Berrin wrestles the inconsolable Akiros into submission, with Taisper assisting in the form of a rather abrupt clubbing with the handle of his morningstar. They remove the doppelganger's body from the room after returning him to his bed, though removing the embedded sword from the wall takes all of Berrin's strength. He sleeps in exhaustion, tearfully calling out for Sarah in a nightmare. The others wait by his bedside as a group, waiting for his fever to break. In mid-day, despite their exhaustion after riding through the night, the whole of the Founders are crowded in his room. Akiros awakens to see Jemini, Verik, and Zander, having joined them after finding out what happened when they saw Berrin dragging a gray corpse into the Founder's Hall. Even Nikolai came and waited. Taisper and Berrin, the men who prevented him from stabbing himself in his agony, sit the closest to the bed and focus intently on him when his eyes flutter open. Both seem poised to grab him, and he notices that there are no weapons anywhere near him - even on the Founders themselves. Tandlara continues to breathe quietly in her own makeshift bed, still locked in whatever comatose state her dark magic brought upon herself.
"He's coming around."
Berrin didn't catch who said it. He was exhausted, tired, he stank from travel and his growth of beard was beginning to itch as he sat at the edge of the samurais bed, half falling asleep himself. Berrin's eyes flew open at the words and he jumped to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. Sure enough Akiros was stirring, his breathing changed and finally his eyes opened.
Berrin stood over Akiros as the samurai took in his surroundings, watching him carefully, wondering if he'd try anything.
"Hey buddy. You still with us here friend? You alright in there? Gave us a little scare there last night buddy, but it's over now ok? Nobody gon'ta hurt ya now, no need for anything rash, you skewered that doppelganger good. It's dead now, you killed it ok?"
"What...how..." Akiros closes his eyes again for a few moments, taking stock of himself, not sure if he was still dreaming or was awake. What was the last thing...? He recalled discussing plans with Jhod, then feverish dreams while he waited for...the Shapeshifer!
His eyes snapping open, worried his allies do not know of the danger his eyes snap open with the name on his tongue "Malgorzata! The doppelgänger! She..." but then suddenly he spies the dark blood stain on the wall and it all comes flooding back. Closing his eyes once again he cannot help the groan of pain which escapes him. Yet this time the moment is brief, for there is work to be done. As his eyes open again and for the first time he spies all those crowded into his room, eyeing him with great concern, a wave of healing floods through his heart. He was not alone in the world. For he now had this new family he had become a part of. At the moment, he is even glad to see Nokolai there. Struggling himself into a sitting position he says with deep sincerity "My friends, I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you all. I do not yet know how much of the past few weeks events you are aware of, but we have much to discuss. I am also grateful for your concern for my well being, but I...I am well, now. So please focus your concern on Tandlara, for she is in desperate need of our aid."
The tired but mostly recovered warrior then quickly fills the group in on the highlights of recent past events. As the others then turn their attentions to Tandlara, Akiros grabs the arms of the two closest to him. Noticing the bruise on Berrin's cheek he grimaces and says quietly "Did I...? I am sorry my friend, please forgive me. And...thank you. Thank you both. I was...if you hand't been here I...well, thank you. I owe you my life."
"Hey, hey. Don't worry big guy." Berrin says with an honest grin, patting Akiros's hand, relieved at Akiros apparently having regained his senses. "Don't worry about it, an' I'm sorry about smacking you on the head too buddy, heat of the moment an' all that. As you said; you weren't in your right mind, no wonder with what the doppelganger put you through but you did good ok? You done right by everyone, stepping up to the challenge even with Corwin gone and Tandlara out, you did right. Ok buddy."
”Initiate Petyr, please bring me the final stack of petition requests.” Verik finishes his signature on a final set of arrest documents, his hand aching as he discards his third quill and picks up a fourth. He frowns as he hears what sounds like snoring coming from the adjacent library room where many of the magistrate documents and guardsmen reports are sorted out. ”Petyr?" Verik hands the last document to be sealed with wax to Thomas Quiss, his oldest and most adept clerical assistant, and turns to crane his neck around at the archway opening to the dimly lit room beyond. He spies young Petyr Mikhalia in the room behind, soundly asleep on the floor amidst two imposing stacks of books. The other initiate, young Ethen Hoefurrow is likewise asleep in the worship hall just beyond the main door to the study, even as he was checking on the candles in the hall and waiting to replenish the light for the guardsmen outside.
”I’ll wake them at once Enlightened Father,” says Thomas resignedly as he moves the document to his own writing desk, stifling a yawn himself even as he does so. Verik looks up at the globe of light above them that he himself cast, realizing he replenished itself four times already without thinking about it. ”That’s quite alright Thomas, I did not realize the time. Assist getting the boys to bed and let us have you and Anya do the same, for there will be much to do when the sun rises." He waves a hand at the large stacks of well-ordered documents spread across the three tables. ”It is a good start to it, and has given me a good understanding of what has transpired since we left.”
Over at the third table, Anya Amitel looks up with almost in protest. ”But I am not tired Enlightened Father, and these transcriptions need to be completed tonight if they are to go out with the morning couriers northward.” Brushing aside a strand of long brown hair, Verik can see that she has a determined look upon her worn face – Anya always was the last to bed and the first to rise, as if she had to continually prove to the rest of them her worth, unnecessary as that was. ”Finish then if the Master compels you to not leave your work Clerk Amitel, but not a moment longer than that hmmm?” She beams a rare smile and furiously dips her quill into the ink for another page.
Verik cannot help but smile at his little “family” of initiates and clerks, as glad as he was to see them safe and whole as they were of him. After a bit of tea as they all anxiously related to him what had transpired over the past fortnight, he took one look at the stacks of petitions, requests and reports and immediately went to work, forcing himself to direct his mind to the written accounts of the mundane and momentous alike, much as part of him wanted to take Virtue and race to the castle to find out the status of events there. In a way it helped him immensely to work these past hours with his four clerks and initiates, grounding him in his duties and reminding him of his place as Banker of Sanctuary and Newhaven. Besides, there would be no rest for him tonight, and he would go to the castle as soon as the others had gone to rest.
Booted footsteps echoed in the worship hall as they approached the main study, and Verik looked over to see Bertram Dakkone, still mailed and armed for full duty, scoop up young Ethan in his arms, muttering, ”I’ll get this lackabout to his bed Enlightened Father – the hall is secure and nothin’ stirs outside but the town guardsmen.” Unlike the men outside guarding the front doors, Bertram Dakkone was an oathsworn guard of Abadar, the other man who came with Thomas up from the Grand Bank of Absalom. A man who should be into his time for grandchildren, he had no wife or family and had been on either ship or wagon for the church well over twenty seasons. Bertram completed the “family” of Abadarians in Sanctuary, acting as part guardian, part handyman and a solid authority figure when Verik was needed elsewhere.
As the two young initiates are put to bed and Thomas stoically finishes his last group of wax seals on the edicts Verik has signed for the morning, a solid knock at the front of the hall interrupts the relative silence of quill, parchment and books. Bertram emerges from the initiate’s room and moves spryly to the front doors with a hand to his warhammer, opening the small viewing port to peer outside. After a moment of muttering words to someone outside, he closes the port and makes his way back to Verik, bowing slightly. ”Enlightened Father, it seems you have been called to the castle this late hour on a matter of unstated importance. The man outside is one of the Warden’s men and I know ‘em, but all the same I should escort you there as well.”
Verik thinks about it for a moment, and then says, ”No Master Dakkone, I will feel better if you are here to keep watch on the others as you have done. I trust my cousin would have alerted me if something sinister was afoot at the castle.” Before he goes he instructs Thomas and Anya to have the completed edicts and works ready for the castle in the morning after sacred devotions, and for the Bank to be opened for worship and petition at the usual hour.
"Indeed Akiros," interrupts Verik with a tired but somewhat bemused look upon his face, "you are to be commended and rewarded for all that you have done and endured! However, I must regrettably inform you after recent events that you do not have the authority to tell us to ahh 'ignore your well-being' and 'focus solely on Tandlara' as you so put it."
Verik moves to stir a tonic that he has been preparing at a side table, looking at its color critically with all the mannerisms of an attending healer. He adds dryly, "Short of having Berrin thunk you on the head again - which I might add is not what I would prescribe for your recovery - you will do well to heed my counsel and lie there in rest and take your tonics."
The two weeks following the Gyronna cult's attempt to destroy the city see the Founders working overtime to reassure the citizens. Berrin seems to take a particular pleasure at parading the body of the doppelganger through the city to convince the people through firsthand experience that the threat has passed.
The Founders travel out to the field outside Oleg's Trading Post (now a full-fledged village under the Levetons' eyes) with Corwin and the others who fell to the cult's vicious plans. Amongst the fallen heroes of Stagfall, they bury one of their own not far from where he was nearly killed by the Stag Lord - Nikolai, who now stands amongst them as an ally.
After a few nights at Oleg's Inn, they return to Sanctuary to fulfill their duties. Filing into the Founders' Hall the morning of the 10th, the Council meets formally for the first time since what occurred to decide how to best fill the Council's positions and to discuss what they have learned. Additionally, petitions from citizens and messages from other nations must be read and discussed.
Gregary's time back in Newhaven has done well for him. A few days free of the dark influence of the tower on Candlemere Island and his mind began to heal. A week after his return, he tells Zander what little he recalls from his scouting. A week after that, in the hours before the Council meeting, he tells Zander what he has pieced together from his fragmented memories: the trolls follow a leader called Hargulka, who has amassed more than a few dozen of his vicious kin. Through force, they have seized hundreds of slaves - mostly human - but has been running out of victims to seize in the sparsely settled frontier lands. Additionally, he has gained control of all the local tribes of kobolds, lizardfolk, bugbears, and hobgoblins. Hargulka and his dull-witted, two-headed enforcer look to the surrounding kingdoms to expand towards. From what Gregary could gather, Hargulka is quite cunning and has settled on preparing for war with the nation least capable of raising an army - Newhaven.
Zander beams at Gregary. A curious reaction to the news just delivered. "Good to have you back. Troubling news, but an excellent report. You have set a fine example for the Wardens. Your news will hopefully give us time to arrange a response."
Wearing his best uniform and White Stag helm he makes his way into the hall. He takes his seat nodding to those already in attendance. Removing the helm, he places it on the table before him. Zander then calls over the court scribe and requests quill, ink and parchment and sets to quickly scrawl out the following note:
"I have troubling news concerning a troll led ARMY approaching for war. Not sure the news of an invasion should be broached in open council, but raising an army in response to recent events should. Please help Verick move quickly through new business. Will provide details later. Share as you deem necessary.
Z."
He folds the parchment and writes Berrin
Rising from his chair, Zander walks to Berrin's empty chair and places the parchment on the table in front of it, before returning to his seat.
Jemini tries to cope with all the stresses that her new home is experiencing, but it is hard. The people, the dismay, the uncertainties... they only slowly fade. She takes consolation in her prayers for guidance, and is relieved to find that the young nation is proving more resilient than she dared hope - the recovery of Gregary turning into a particular boon; or so she hopes.
She seeks out the man a few days after he's made his recovery. "Gregary! There you are! Please, a moment of your time - if you will," Jemini's concern is still evident in her voice, but it is also clear that she's got greater things on her mind. "Gregary, please consider the request I wish to make of you. You may very well be the only one of the victims of the harpies that can ever find peace of mind and heart again; nobody here can understand what they go through and how their nights are haunted by Lamashtu still. I... I have found a small farmstead, not far from Newhaven. I hope for it to become a place of tranquility and a simple life that those who suffered can turn to and have a place safe to stay at. Simple work and chores to keep them occupied. But, they also need someone at the helm. Someone who looks after them and their needs on a daily basis." She looks seriously at Gregary, "I was hoping you could be that man."
"That... that is wonderful. Allow me to leave this in your care - a fund for the purpose of caring after the survivors." She hands him a bag of money, totaling 1000gp.
Berrin strolls into the Founders Hall whistling, twirling the iron crown on a finger and with Reggie panting at his heels. 'Today was the day I'll get rid of this thing.' Coming up to the council table he switches from whistling to humming as he flicks the crown onto the center of the table with a twinkle in his eye. Looking around he meets everyone's eye and gives a nod in greeting before plodding into his chair and giving the thylacine all his attention. Those looking at him note that he appears to be sober, shaved, groomed, in clean clothes and smelling nice. Maybe Emma was coming home?
'Too bad Emma's not back.' Berrin thinks, slightly marring his own good mood. Coming home to cold empty chambers had been harder than Berrin would admit to anyone. Admit to anyone when sober anyway. But he had kept busy. Riding around town with the doppelgangers corpse in tow, letting anyone who dared look and see, daring those who wouldn't, and finally stringing it up on it's feet besides the castle gates. Gruesome, he knew, but an effective signal he hoped.
Getting the city to settle down had mostly come down to being visible, attending the daily open sessions, receiving petitions and hearing complaints, and going out and about, letting those who would see him. Verik had called it A Reassuring Front. Whatever it was, it seemed to have worked and now that things were settled, Jemini could step up while Berrin could step down. 'I'm sure Verik will bring it up.'
Finding himself growing worried again Berrin lets go of the thylacine and looks around to see who's arrived, seeing no one new he sighs. 'This is why I'm never first in at council. Can't stand the wait.'
Seeing the letter before his seat he frowns and opens it, double reading it's contents he looks over to Zander and nods when he catches his eye.
Latter, as the council members arrive, Berrin passes Zanders letter to them, even Verik, Though they already knew most of it the news were to grave to sit on.
When Jemini speaks to Gregary, it's clear that his mind is only partly recovered. He speaks slowly, as if unfamiliar with the words that come out of his mouth. "I can help... But not alone. Too many things. It's hard..." He grimaces after forcing out words that don't come naturally. "Maybe your family? After I'm better... I'm a Warden." He takes the money and looks at it curiously.
Verik enters the Founder's Hall dressed in his most formal clerical garb, including the rather tall hat that has trouble staying perched atop the Banker's head if he moves too suddenly. A clank of keys jangles back and forth from his belt as he carries a literal stack of parchment in his hands - some rolled, some folded and sealed, and others loose but stuck inside two full-sized books as if to place-mark sections he had been studying. Behind him but keeping pace is a teenage girl in simpler clerical robes of Abadar, her long brown hair tied back primly and carrying another full stack of books and tomes with some difficulty of effort.
She places the books in a stack behind him as he takes his seat at the Council table, absorbed in placing various scrolls, letters and loose parchment before him in some organized manner that only makes sense to him. The girl steps forward to his chair, producing a quill and small vial of ink from her robes, and he takes them with a nod and murmur of thanks, though Verik appears intently focused on the materials before him. The girl takes several steps back and stands in attendance near the stack of books.
As citizens come into the gallery of the Founders' Hall, the available members of the Council assemble a few at a time and take their seats. Oleg and Svetlana Leveton enter together, sitting next to each other on the end. Svetlana hugs the other members of the Council as they enter, inquiring as to their well-being. The married couple returned from the newly-founded Olegsgrav, one of the first to use the completed road that extends between Olegsgrav (and thus Brevoy) and Sanctuary. In hushed tones, Svetlana asks Berrin about Esmerelda and if she's marriage material.
Jhod comes in next, giving Akiros a nod upon his entrance in recognition of their shared experience. While they told the others what happened in the city while they were gone, only those present in the city can understand the paranoia and fear that gripped its heart. He takes a seat next to the general and settles in for another incident of Verik getting overly excited about rules.
Tandlara's seat remains unfilled. The elven spymaster remains comatose, locked in whatever state of recovery her magical exertions placed her in. Jhod brought his and Akiros's concerns to the others, and they decided not to speak of it publicly. As far as the citizens of the city know, Tandlara is still recovering from her injuries following the battle with the cult of Gyronna.
Kesten is the last of the Founders to enter, taking a moment to whisper something to one of the guards as he enters. He grins at Jemini as he enters, but says nothing when the paladin leans over to ask him what is going on. He brings a stack of sealed messages, bearing a seal from each of the noble houses and even ones from Pitax and Mivon.
Nikolai and Taisper take a seat (separately) in the gallery, not having any official place on the Founder's Council. People in the audience give them some wide berth, apparently mistrusting the hulking warrior. Taisper looks up and notices that Ilyana (minus her son) has sat down next to her. She smiles softly at him, though her shaking hands hold a folded piece of paper.
The first order of business on the Council agenda is to officially name Jemini the appointed ruler of Newhaven and the leader of the Founders' Council. Berrin has made it clear that this cannot happen long enough. At one point, he slipped it on her head and ran off with Reggie yipping happily, only to endure a blisteringly boring lecture from Verik about the necessity of protocol and formality.
Akiros stares up at the leaden sky. It was only fitting that the heavens should weep as well, for this day they buried a good man. Corwin may have never fully recovered from his battle with the Stag...with Nikolai, but he had lived and served and fought bravely up until the end, and what more could be asked of any man. 'And the fact that he lies here dead is entirely my fault.' the forlorn General mulls to himself 'My fault for not seeing through Malgorzata's lies. My fault for not being better prepared and bringing more men with us. There are so many things I could have done differently, done better, and if I had, my friend would still be alive and well. I shall not let your memory nor your deeds be forgotten Corwin! I only hope that, wherever you may be, that you can find it in you to forgive me. Not that once such as I, with so much blood on his hands, deserves any forgiveness, yet, one can still hope. For hope is all there is when nothing is left...'
Akiros had come into the council hall quietly and had spoken little since his arrival other than to return the greetings given to him. He had evidenced a slight tension that was relieved substantially by Jhod and Kesten's arrival. The two were the only Founders present who truly understood how close Sanctuary had come to being lost for good. And Jhod was the closet one to understanding all that had befallen with Tandlara.
Despite his ongoing animosity with the Spy Master, his nature being as it was, Akiros felt a certain responsibility for her condition. Perhaps if he had handled things differently, better, then she would not...but no, he had been over this ground a hundred times before in his mind, and it had gotten him nowhere. The past was the past and there was naught he could do to change it now. It was the present which mattered.
Gathering his focus to the council meeting, Akiros leaned forward slightly. He had heard rumours circulating amongst his men that some of the founders were thinking of a change in the command structure. It wasn't very difficult for Akiros to surmise what change that might be. Of course Jemini would be installed as ruler of Newhaven once more, as was right and good. But that left Berrin without a position to fill, and only one position would seem to suit the Hero of Sanctuary, that being the one he himself currently filled, General of the Army.
As he thought on things, Akiros' eyes followed Berrin around the room. The notion of losing his command filled Akiros with mixed feelings. It was his army, and those were his men! He had trained them, disciplined them, inspired them, led them. In the short time he had been given he yelled, and punched and whipped them into fighting shape. And his reward for his efforts would now be to simply hand them over to another? One who he had some serious doubts as to his ability to lead the army properly and give it all it needed.
On the other hand though, there was no denying Berrin's immense popularity in Newhaven in general and Sanctuary in particular. With Berrin at the helm it was quite likely that the army would see a significant increase in volunteers, and with the many threats they faced, most especially the Troll army, Sanctuary needed all the soldiers they could get. 'If only I could trust the man to do the job properly! I mean, look at him! Running around the council hall like a spoiled child, that ridiculous flea bag nipping at his heels. This is the man to inspire and lead Sanctuary's fighting force?'.
A part of him knew he was being too harsh on the former Steward, yet he could not quite seem to help himself. They were going to take away his command! With a deep and quiet sigh, the, for now anyway, general gathered and calmed himself 'It shall be as it shall be, and I must trust that all here simply have the best interests of Sanctuary at heart. I shall serve in whatever manner I am ordered too. For I am now a soldier after all, and I have sworn to obey.'
Throughout all of his inner dialogue, none of Akiros' inner turmoil is visible except to the most discerning and sensitive of eyes.
Jemini sighs inwardly, it would still take a while before Gregory would be ready for the duties she intended for him. Still... it would work out. I'll have to speak with Zander, and hope he agrees.
She takes a moment to reflect. Yes, Gregory had a point - whether inadvertent or not - she could turn to her family. At the very least they would be able to find and send a man with suitable aptitude. Her spirits brightening, she sets off to pen a suitable letter.
Dearest Father, dearest Mother
with greatest joy I write to you of the growth of Newhaven. Prospects in and around our Primary holdings are growing brighter as I write. The people are a joy to behold, there's an Adventurous Spirit that pulls and lifts people to Newhaven - and it is apparent with each passing week and month how it grows.
There is, however, also grief in our growth. A more Sinister side to our work has claimed victims. We have followed rumors and confirmed the building of a troll and lizard army within a week of our walls. We rode out to ascertain, and in the process rescued a troupe of men from a hatch of harpies. It bleeds my heart just thinking about their suffering. Death in many ways would have been kinder: their Minds addled and Bodies crippled. I have hopes to salvage a small home for them near Newhaven, a place for them - and other like them - to find peace and solace. If you allow myself to be as bold, I ask that you find a person of suitable acumen to care for the survivors - I have put aside a fund to serve this Purpose.
Alas - our absence has brought about Dark Tidings in Newhaven; it is not clear what motivations hath carried her - but a Vixen by the name of Malgorzata, devious and doppelgänger by nature, has nearly undone much of the growth and progress of this new nation. It is Fortunate that likely most wounds inflicted will heal in Time, albeit Corwin now rests near Stagfall.
I trust in your wisdom in this,
in eternal gratitude
Jemini of Lebeda
"...and moreover in the interests of maintaining for the historical record the civilized and proper behavior, decorum and dignity of the first Steward of the Realm, for whatever moments you have left of it, I ask once again that you stop running about like a...like you have...well just stop it already!" Verik is clearly flustered, and snatches the iron crown that has become the symbol of rulership for Newhaven, clutching it to his chest as if it was going to be damaged by Berrin's display. Though the great warrior was once again in his seat at the table, the thycaline was still running amok, with none of the guardsmen by the entrances wishing to have any part in subduing him.
With a huff he turns back to the Founders' Council and addresses them directly, absentmindedly cleaning part of the iron crown with the hem of his cloak. "Now then. We know Berrin's answer clearly enough but ALL must agree to it, with one notable abstention of the Founder Tandlara which has already been approved and legally noted by this Council. The casting of a 'yea' vote shall be verbal and open, but upon final tally of the Judgment I shall ask Clerk Amitel there to bring the transference document to each of you for your signature and seal."
After straightening his hat and clearing his throat, Verik holds the crown up with one hand and points towards Jemini with the other, loudly and boldly asking, "Do the Council of Founders approve, assent and submit the leadership of the Realm of Newhaven to Lady Jemini Lebeda, hereby to be known forthwith as Lady Marshal Jemini Lebeda, Wielder of the Ironborn Crown, First Founder of Newhaven, High Defender of the White Stag and Protector of the Realm?"
Berrin just shakes his head and looks at Verik with his hands half raised, palms outward, and a look of confusion on his face, he hadn't been doing anything! Well, mostly not anything anyway. He had been sitting as still as a statue besides a few fidgets, but it was hardly his fault the proceedings were taking so damn long that he was getting sore in his backside! And was he to blame if the thylacine needed to stretch it's legs? Reggie was just patrolling! Verik should be thanking the beast, not scolding Berrin for it. What if Reggie found out a poisoner or a daggerman in the shadows? The thylacine was smart! Not some mindless beast. He deserved an occasional pat on the head and a scratch behind his ears.
Settling back down as best he could despite the stifling heat and his itching backside when Verik continues his tirade he waits as patiently as he can. 'Blast it Verik! There are trolls coming! I know you saw the damned missive from Zander, I gave it to you myself!' He thinks as he glares at the cleric in his puffed up finery.
When he finally winds down Berrin lets a few moments pass before raising his hand. 'Best not seem to eager, someone might take it the wrong way. But damn! Those are allot of titles.' "Aye!" he finally drones out from his seat.
"Aye!" comes the clear and heartfelt answer from Akiros 'And about time, too' he adds to himself
Zander gives a quick and clear, "Aye" in hopes of moving things along. A Ruler and Marshall will need troops. This is beyond what the Wardens can handle.
Verik looks around the table, nodding with each acceptance, until with a start he realizes he himself is part of the vote and says quickly, "Yea do I approve, assent and submit!"
Smiling to all, he nods and closes his eyes, whispering a brief prayer in Celestial. "Lu iy il Motwelt! Phelllicwl yu zuo wnelay Salyeln, bun ahh yray zuo rajel qnujitelt yu pnicw ol yu yril qhavel act yisel. I wijel sz uayr cuf, yu wijel sz hibel'l funx act sz hibel'l phuut yu pnicw zuon funxl ub qnuwnelll relnel, frelnel lu sacz rajel baihelt pelbunel ol. Yril I lfelan, act I avy al zuon lelnjacy yu frayeljeln qonqulel saz lolyaic puyr Unteln act Felah ic yril hact ub Celfrajelc."
"So it is judged! As High Cleric of Newhaven, I give humble thanks to our holy patrons who have blessed us to see this day a reality - I give praise and thanks to Abadar, Master of the First Vault. To Erastil, Old Deadeye. To Iomedae the Inheritor. And to all others who bless and protect this land and its people."
Stepping towards Jemini with the iron crown in hand, he says to her warmly, "Well my Lady Marshal, you said upon the anniversary of Stagfall that the iron crown should not be worn, but it is a symbol of your office all the same. Therefore, I have taken the liberty to have a wooden stand carved to rest it wherever you hold court, so that the symbol of your office may be a reminder to all whom would entreat with you." He gives a brief glance at the silver circlet with moonstones and rubies that he crafted for her and adds softly with a chuckle, "Of course what you bear upon your brow now is far more fitting and flattering than iron...and most excellently fashioned I might add!"
With that he hands the iron crown to her with all the fanfare he can muster. "Founders of Newhaven! Rejoice!"
***************************************
A little while later as the congratulations subside and the young clerk of Abadar finishes up having each Founder sign three copies of the document and press their personal seal to the wax, Verik once again stands from his chair and walks around to the front of the council table, grabbing yet another set of rolled-up parchments and clearing his throat. "At the Founders' permission, shall we continue?" With almost a hearty relish, he adopts an imperious demeanor and points directly at Berrin. "Berrin Myrdal, we are not done with you yet, Hero of Stagfall! I would bring a motion before the Founders for consideration, concerning the fulfillment of the vacancy of Praefectus-Marshal by Corwin of the Axe." He looks at all the Founders solemnly as he says this last part, though his eyes do linger upon Akiros a touch longer than the others.
Berrin hurra's heartily for Jemini when she accepts the crown, equally for her as himself perhaps. No more petitions, no more delegations, no more prim receptions with food so small he had trouble seeing it and the wine so watered he couldn't stomach it. No more Steward Berrin.
'No more Steward Berrin Myrdal. Just Berrin.'
Now that it had finally come true, Jemini returned to life and formally placed as leader, Berrin didn't know what to feel about it. Sure, it had been tedious, but it had it's benefits. The nice rooms, the servants, good food, free ale (as far as Berrin was concerned) and feasts. Going over maps and planing the progression of the realm hadn't been all bad. Berrin was alright there, he even had a better understanding of geography, engineering and tactics than most, if not all, of the founders. Plus he was a seasoned soldier... 'Now what?' Berrin glares at the cleric as his revery is interrupted yet again by Verik berating him for something he didn't do. 'That's getting tiresome.' But he just frowns and takes his seat.
"Spit it out already. We've got trolls on our borders, preparations must be made so save your pomp for your flock and sermons and get to the bloody point already!"
"Besides that!" Berrin interrupts Verik again with a raised finger while he fills his lungs. "You forget that we brevic offer equal respect to Pharasma, Lady of Fate, and Gorum, Lord of Battle, as we do Abadar of the Vault. If your going to be offering prayer and praise to the gods you best not forget them as well. Also, we need to talk about him." he says, pointing at Nikolai.
"The returned heir to House Rogarvia."
"He'll be causing quit a stir in Brevoy by now. It's been near a month now since his and Jemini's resurrection by Pharasmas blessing and we've sent no word to anyone. How are the great houses supposed to take our silence? Let alone our neighbors of Mivon?"
"Jemini, have you had any word from your father? Or Kesten, you from yours? Oleg, you must hear things at Olegsgrav. What are people saying?"
The young frontier woman sitting next to Taisper in the gallery stands up. With a quavering voice, she speaks up. "The people are saying that he is a criminal." Her trembling hands hold a folded paper, which she gently unfolds and holds out. "I am Ilyana Flaxton. My husband was Nicholas Flaxton, who was kidnapped and pressed into service as a bandit by that man. Given the chance, he fought and died for his freedom and for all our freedom. The Stag Lord has many crimes to answer for. I have here a petition to arrest him and try him for his crimes! It's been signed by a hundred citizens. We don't care about who he was born as, we care about what he did."
She walks up and places the petition in Verik's hands. He takes a look at it and sees that the formalities are all in place to seize Nikolai Rogarvia, the so-called Stag Lord, under shackle and try him for his crimes. He recognizes the handwriting that meticulously lists the crimes that Nikolai is accused of and looks at Anya Amitel. The young clerk looks away from him and casts her eyes elsewhere.
Ilyana's words seem to start something in the crowd. Shouts of support and condemnations of the Stag Lord start to ring out. The guards grip their spears tightly, though do not bring them forward to a position of battle, and look closely at the Founders' Council for their reactions to this petition.
Berrin cringes at the accusation laid forth by Ilyana, slumping down in his seat with his finger still hanging limply in the air.. "Ahh... Shit!" 'Didn't see that one coming.' ..and looks to Jemini with a pleading expression and shrugs.
That was not Berrins' intentions but it's yours to defend Nikolai to the people.
As the words of the petition ring out and the voices of the crowd are raised, Akiros sits back forcefully in his chair with an audible thunk as a wave of shock hits him.
As the tumult increases, like a loadstone the general feels his eyes drawn to those of his former master. As their eyes meet across the room, another wave hits Akiros. This time a wave of memory. Memory of, and guilt for, the many atrocious events they had committed together. For his part, Akiros had always done his best to try and moderate the actions of the Stag Lord. Had tried to stem the tide of his wrath, his fury, his murderous, destructive tendencies. Yet the Stag Lord had been as a force of nature, and holding him back from anything he had desired, or simply had the whim to do, was akin to holding back a hurricane. Thus for all his good intentions and efforts, in truth Akiros knew he had done little, if anything, to halt or change the actions of the Stag Lord for the better.
As memory continues to wash over him, Akiros finally breaks the gaze and looks down at the floor. Yet all he can see at the moment is blood. There had been so much blood. The blood of all the victims, of anyone who had stood in the Stag Lord's way. Some had been innocent, some not so much, but for anyone who had stood against the Stag Lord, for whatever reason, it had ended in blood. For Akiros, it had begun with the blood of his Swordpact brothers, and the crimson tide had continued, the flood of blood debt ever rising. That is, until them.
At this point Akiros raises his gaze again, and this time it alights on the perfect and beautiful form of the newly appointed, once again, ruler of Newhaven. Although her gaze does not meet his. No, at the moment her gaze is solely for another, and it is the scion of Rogarvia to whom she looks.
Yet the flow of Akiros' memory continues unabated. For yes, it was not until Jemini and the other Founders had stood against the Stag Lord that his murderous reign had been successfully challenged. It was they who had stood firm and provided a bulwark against the Stag Lord and his horde, and had proven the stronger, had won. Yet more blood was spilled to pay the price of such a victory. Much more blood.
Unable to hold his gaze upon Newhaven's shining leader either, Akiros looks back down again, this time at his own hands. Yes, there had always been so much blood, and so much of it was on Akiros' own hands. He had always known, in the back of his mind, that such a day would come, must come. Yet he had pushed the awareness back, had tried to atone for his many past sins with diligent and selfless duty to Sanctuary and her people. Yet is was not enough, it was never enough, and the blood, the blood was still on his hands.
As the shouts of the crowd died down while they waited for word from the Founders, a pregnant silence descends upon the council chamber. Into this silence the noise of Akiros' chair scraping back against the floor is loud as the Ronin stands. His eyes once again locking on Nikolai, Jemini, then all the other founders and then sweeping around the room to finally rest on Newhaven's leader once more, in a clear, strong and purposeful voice he says "If Nikolai of Rogarvia, former Stag Lord of these lands, is to be seized and tried for his many crimes, then I, Akiros Ismort, must also too be held and tried. For I was his second in command for many months, and thus am guilty by association of many of the same crimes. Further, unlike many others under his command, I was not coerced to be so, but gave my oath to him of my own free will. Thus, in good conscience, I must resign my title as General of the Army and place my self at the judgment and mercy of Sanctuary's rulers and they people they have sworn to defend."
When done, Akiros slowly unbuckles his sword belt, removes his badge of office and all his other weapons and places them on the table before him. His gaze never leaving Jemini's, who's full attention he now has.
Verik stands there with his mouth clamped shut and the petition in his hands, clearly furious, his face nearly as flushed as when he argued with Nikolai back on the island. As the crowd cries out their conflicting opinions for all to hear, he steps forward towards Berrin with his free hand clinched, earning a warning growl from Reggie. His words are low so that the onlookers cannot hear, but his words do not escape the Founders seated upon either side of him. "You pig-headed fool! Impatient lout! You can't just throw slop into the pot and expect a fine stew to come of it! Next time maybe you'll remember this and know that I have a purpose in what I do, but for now it's too late..."
Though he incurs an angry retort from Berrin he does not reply, and stalks back to the middle of the hall, leveling a withering look at his young cleric Anya for all to see, a harsh implied penance inevitable. As he walks he looks towards Akiros and waves his hand upwards in irritation. "Captain-General Ismort, your resignation is NOT ACCEPTED. You WILL pick up your blade and DO YOUR DUTY AS A FOUNDER OF NEWHAVEN! May I remind you that you were BLINDED for several months and the other part of your sentence was commuted to a year of service to train the militia, of which that term was completed at the end of Gozran. There were only THREE individual petitions levied against you back then concerning your offenses, which I read and confirmed, and which you CONFESSED to, and your sentencing was appropriate to those petitions. You are not him. Now take your place and your seat, unless you desire to sow further discord and chaos here."
Shaking his head before he speaks, he takes one brief look at his cousin with a curious intensity, and then addresses the hall. "SILENCE! SILENCE NOW! NEWHAVENERS! THIS IS NOT GALT! SILENCE AND HEAR ME!"
After the crowd's words have diminished enough for him to be heard, he bullrushes forward with his words, interrupting any other Founders before they can talk over him. "Get to the point the former Steward said, well then fine. I WAS going to move us through fulfilling the vacant seat of the Founders, but now that shall have to wait - until THAT HAPPENS Berrin has no FORMAL post decided upon by THIS Council, and therefore CAN NOT deliberate, vote or make any formal actions on this Council! Other pressing issues of threats on our southern frontier by the Warden of the White Stag, as well as correspondence in the hands of Grand Diplomat Garess must be discussed, but both are hereby tabled until this matter of grievances and petitions has been dealt with."
As Verik erupts and lambasts him, Akiros looks over to the young but headstrong cleric, brief memories of their many theological debates flashing through the ex-?general's mind. Clearly the words of Abadar's earthly representative carry weight with the now weapon-less Ronin, particularly the insinuation of his dereliction of duty. Yet Akiros is also still clearly unsure what do. Yes, there had only been three petitions against him, yet there was still so much blood on his hands...so much...
A rare look of unsureness in his eyes, Akiros remains standing, his weapons still before him, and turns his gaze once more to Jemini, waiting for the judgement of Newhaven's ruler, and the crowd's reaction to it.
Jemini, somewhat used to official functions and proceedings, allows Verik - who obviously enjoys himself tremendously inspite of his berating of Berrin - to go through all the motions and words. It was necessary - not a necessary evil - but it was the right of it. Things needed to proceed in a manner that made it official. History would mark this day more than others, just for the speech that Verik delivered and the symbolic gestures that it was accompanied by.
Although she had been expecting it, it was with a hint of dread that she heard Ilyana voice her grievance. Both so justified and so misplaced, she sighed inwardly. Then she looks up, to see the tension mounting. Quickly now! Iomedae steady my lips...
She stands up and steps forward, to catch the center of the limelight before it can be swept away by rash actions or improper words. "This is correct and just. Nikolai must be tried, for a fourth time."
She lets her words sink in, yes, a fourth time... "The Staglord was a monster of a man, much a product of the cruel master he escaped from - his reign of bandit law caused suffering and death, with little to show for it. A purpose obfuscated by avarice and liquor. The Staglord was both the first and the last challenge we had to overcome to lay claim to these lands, and his challenges have exacted a tremendous price that all of us still pay for."
Her voice is tinged with a hint of sadness, but no regret. "The first trial, judgment and execution of the Staglord happened not far from here at the battle of Stagfall. His crimes evident, his sentiment unrepentent, his violence following him every step of the way. We, the Founders, tried and judged him then - mustering the army of goodhearted souls that called the Stolen Lands their home. His death was ominous. A victory bought with blood. Blood and more blood. We had found him guilty and his execution followed immediately..."
Her voice trails off, leaving those present eager to guess what comes next. Finally she continues, "The price of our freedom, is eternal vigilance - we must be watchful, ever watchful." She nods earnestly, "When I awoke in the grey plains, it was clear that I had died, and so had Nikolai. Death had washed him bare of much of his madness, as it does for us all when we pass on. Our conversation, then, was timeless. I learned then of the true man that is Nikolai of Rogarvia, so much more than the beast that was the bandit lord. I learned then that the future of Sanctuary was not to be one of peace and prosperity, but that a dark threat was forming and a mighty conqueror astride dragons would lay this nation and all of the greater river kingdoms to the flame. The rumors of a troll and lizard army that we have been investigating are but the hint of the vanguard of this threat."
"The price of freedom, is eternal vigilance! ...at this point the second trial of the Staglord had already concluded, he was sentenced to torment in the fathomless suffering of the daemonic planes. A blistered and blackened world that mocks us with its insanity and deprivation. It was then that all remnants of the monster fell away - torn from him by the dread of Abaddon. I stood with him then, blaspheming against the judgment that had been given me. I stood with him then, as the first fiendish hunters came for our eternal extinction. I stood with him then, as his pride and repentance was obliterated and he was about to give himself onto his fate. But no! NO I WOULD NOT HAVE IT! I demanded his fate from him. I demanded he carry the burden of his sins. I DEMANDED a life of repentance from him - until he found his faltering will again."
She steps forward, a slow methodical circle as she addresses all. "It took a long time. Oh... such a long time. An eternity may have wept as it saw us walk by, yet we must press on. Onward to reach the boneyard of Pharasma. When we finally could stand before her - it was not given to Nikolai to speak against the judgment he had received. Instead, it was given to me to petition the timeless goddess, to beg a new trial. My very salvation was obsolved and my soul tied to his. The third trial was by far the longest and hardest to bare. Nikolai's sins and previous life have not been cleared, his sins a burden on him - a weight as grievous and terrible as before. Should he find death again, he would immediately be returned to Abaddon and suffer relentlessly. All that I've bought for him, is the time to repent and time to make amends where he can."
"Yes." Jemini insists, "A fourth trial of Nikolai of Rogarvia is paramount - in fact, it is already in session. His every action, word, and even thought, is recorded and tallied against his sins. Yet another trial, now, before the people of Sanctuary, will hopefully illuminate this truth even more so."
There's a little pause before she adds, "My actions condemn me with this man, as such I shall stand trial before Sanctuary by his side."
The people in the Founders' Hall murmur in awe and reverence for Jemini's words. They are clearly moved by her speech. While their desire to see the Stag Lord in fetters burns strongly, their love for their leader and the rule of law that reigns in Newhaven shines through. The guards relax their grips on the spears, simply watching Nikolai to see if he will submit willingly.
Kesten stands to say his piece. "Lady Jemini, if you wish to walk this path with the Stag Lord, there are traditions that we must follow. We are not part of Brevoy, but we are a nation founded in Brevic law and custom. To bring forth a charge against the head of any house or nation bound by the shared laws of our people, a representative from each house must sit in judgment. The Lords of each house currently summit in New Stetven, likely discussing their own responses to the return of House Rogarvia. Several - Lord Orlovsky, Lord Lebeda, King Surtova - have already sent representatives to see the man in person, some of whom will arrive in hours. It will not be difficult to send to New Stetven to request a representative of House Lodovka, House Garess, and House Mevedvev. We can begin proceedings within a week."
Oleg stands to add his voice to the mix. He rubs the stump of his severed arm rather furiously. "The Stag Lord has many sins to answer for. Much as I don't want to see any Brevic nobles here, it wouldn't be fair for us to judge. I'll abide by the decision."
Zander the Warden rises at the end of Kesten's speech. He stands there letting his words sink in, before he speaks. He goes to start speaking, but pauses, he did not want to do it this way but things were getting away from the the problem before them. He lifts the helm and slowly puts it on his head.
"Trials are fine and we will have trials if that is what the founders and the people want. But now is not the time nor in a week. I now wear the stag helm, re-purposed to Serve instead of oppress. Nikolai has shown that he is willing to do the same. I say we let him do that till time for a trial."
"Jemini spoke of dangers facing our community. Some of those are far off, but one is very immediate. An army of Trolls and Goblins forms on our border. We will be marshaling to face it. Having spent time fighting with Nikolai and against him, I can say this, Newhaven is better off using his skills. Have his trial, but after he helps fight off this attack. Let his current actions be his defense. Because let's face it, besides Jemini's voucher for his time before Pharasma, he has no defense. He has killed many, but has a chance to save thousands."
"When he returns, his crimes will be aired and reconciliation or punished can be discussed in full. But right now me and my men will be putting our lives on the line to protect this city and this country. At this moment, I want those three..." and he points to Nikolai, Jemini, and Akiros "... on the front line of defense. I only ask for time in a time of...need." He leaves the word Dire out of his conclusion. He doesn't want to frighten the people, but he needs to get the point across...there is going to be a war. Let's not chop off the heads of our best warriors. He goes and joins Berrin in pacing about near the table.
Berrin, having risen from his seat, is stopped from a heated retort to Verik and following it by storming out by Jemini's words. Instead he just stands dumbfounded and stares, unable to form any words. 'This is way over my head.' he concludes and with a stiff bow to Verik he walks away from the table to stand by a wall, not meeting anyones' eyes he still watches everyone in the room.
'Nikolai must be tried, for a fourth time'... The echo of Jemini's words lights a path of white hot flame through Verik's mind, catching him speechless. No that cannot be...he must be held accountable for his actions...the petitions are valid...but he has...already? How can I have possibly missed this?
Verik stands there wordlessly as Jemini makes her impassioned case, followed by Kesten and then Oleg. He recoils at the absurd notion of Brevoy coming here to sit in judgment over misdeeds done on what is now Newhaven soil, and wants to refute it, but cannot as his mind is too occupied with a point-of-fact that he has failed to understand. Until now.
What did she say...'Blood and more blood. We had found him guilty and his execution followed immediately'... Verik nearly reels from Jemini's words, going over them, finding a way to dismiss or contest that singular truth. Somewhere a part of him hears Zander talking, of the warning to the south, of setting that man loose once again to sneer and threaten and put all of their lives into danger with his chaotic whims and uncontrolled rage. He wants to counter this, to have Zander see the reason of it, but still his mind is preoccupied with the Law. The Law stares at Verik with its inevitable, emotionless truth. It is beyond contest...
NO! NO NO NO! I have not ignored the Right of Past Issue Irrelevance because he has NOT answered these charges, and the Right of Separate Justice for Separate Issues allows me to pursue the punishments sep...but he WAS EXECUTED! By the sword! By the Charter! Yes but the Charter no longer is valid...now! If I do not accept the Charter than all of Stagfall would be considered an act of...no we cannot go that route. Alright Jarrow think then - blast what are the laws of precedence concerning the Prescription of Ultimate Punishment! Of Brevoy? Of Absalom? Taldoran precedent? Can IT be circumvented if applied? NO! But separate justice for separate issues...yes...no but if the PRIMARY penance is DEATH then the others cannot trump...but a reviving would not negate the sentence...yet if a raising brings back one who is consigned to death, then the crime falls to the acting party and that party must be responsible for the damages...but the act was performed by...NO!
Verik looks like he has aged about ten years, his eyes dull and his voice suddenly haggard. "No mortal punishment in law can outweigh death..." Verik clears his throat and turns to look at the Council. "NO. There can be no trial on Newhaven soil by Brevians beyond their domain of sovereignty." He looks to Kesten directly. "If they are coming as you say, and all want to have a look at him like some prized fish at market then let them do so, but they cannot make Judgement here. We would forfeit our own sovereignty by allowing it. Your only other choice is to let them take him beyond our borders to give trial of their own. Deliberate on that if you wish, but that is something I do not think you all are willing to do, as Jemini says it will lead to our own prophetic destruction." Verik says the last part glumly, as clearly he wishes that was not the case.
Looking at no one, in a resigned tone he adds bitterly but loudly, "Jemini is RIGHT, though she doesn't know it fully. With my heart I wish it were not so, but I must uphold the Law without reservation. Nikolai of Rogvaria WAS the Stag Lord, true, and the petition for these crimes unanswered WOULD allow a trial, could be given with all testimony and witnesses and COULD find him guilty for any or all of them. But even if you did ALL of that, and he was found guilty of it all, it would be only for posterity, for the histories. In sentencing the Law states he cannot receive LESSER punishments after he has been given the FULL penance of death by execution. A punishment that has already been given. At Stagfall."
Few were more shocked by Jemini's words than Akiros was, for to him, the Paladin represented the epitome of beauty, grace and true nobility. And, as none here, besides Nikolai himself, knew better than Akiros did the many sins and deprivations of the Staglord, for Jemini tie herself to the man's sins as she had was almost unbelievable to Akiros.
He opens his mouth to protest but closes it as others speaks first. As he listens to the others, first Kesten, then Oleg, it is Zander's speech which move him the most. When the Warden points at him, Akiros unconsciously stands taller and firmer, nodding briefly in silent recognition of the Founder's wise words.
After Zander finishes Akiros speaks up once again. "Thank you for you reminding us all what must needs be our priorities my friend. If the other Founders will still have me, and if the populace permits it, then I shall remain in service as General of our Armies, or in whatever other fashion it is determined my talents and abilities shall best serve. I shall fight to protect Newhaven and it's people with all I have in me. I have already pledged my life to such an oath and it I swear to it still." As he re-swears his oath, Akiros grunts in slight pain and his hand goes to his stomach. Almost immediately though his face clears and he seems perfectly fine. With only a brief frown on his brow, he continues.
"However, if I am to be a true servant to the people and Founder, at such a time as our situation permits, I insist on a public trial to clear, or condemn, me of my sins." at this he looks down at his hands again 'Perhaps that shall wash away all this blood on my hands' As he thinks this Akiros' vision suddenly goes blurry, and a moment of panic hits him, as his first thought is that somehow Tandlara's restoration of his vision has come undone. But once again, mere moments later everything is fine once more.
Gritting his teeth under his implacable expression, he nods and sits once more. Jhod's leans over and quietly inquires as to his well being, the kindly priest being concerned that Akiros may not have fully recovered from his previous wounds and illness as of yet, to which the General whispers back with a small smile 'I am fine my friend, thank you for your concern. Likely just something I ate'
Yet despite his words, inside he is not feeling so fine at all. Something had...shifted within him just now. He knew, on a deep level of himself, that he was changed in some way, yet what that way was, and what it meant, he had no idea...
"Should the Whispering Tyrant return to life, resurrected by foul dark magics, would he be excused of his crimes, too?"
Words from the doorway of the Founders' Hall echo forth to the seated and assembled Council. These words are delivered with such force and clarity, beckoning the audience to look back at the mouth from which they are delivered. To all but Jemini and Nikolai, the voice is familiar and unwelcome.
Grigori, a bard "recently of New Stetven" has returned to Newhaven, seen for the first time since the trial and execution of the Red Stag. He looks directly at Taisper first, savoring the surprise of his arrival towards the man who assaulted him last time he was in the city. He bears clothing as fine and delicate as the first time, with the thin beard still covering his meaty jowls. He lets his sudden speaking settle in for a moment, then continues. He unrolls a parchment inside a scroll and reads it aloud. "Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 14th day of Abadius, 4708, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne." The words of the original charter that they were assembled under echo through the room, familiar to those who carried it out.
"It seems that the very foundation upon which this great nation was built is settled in Brevic law, and Brevic authority. The people demand a trial to settle this matter. Can they trust this Council to absolve its own members of wrongdoing? What legitimacy has that? Should we simply trust that you are capable of providing a fair trial when one of your own number is under judgment? Shall she lead the proceedings?"
"Whaaat?" Verik's head snaps up and glares at the bearer of that voice, the one who caused so much upheaval and mockery during the trial of the Red Stag. That he returned so boldly, with that charter, pretending he knew the law when all he desired to do was twist everything to his foul ends, with everything else it was almost more than he could bear.
"You!" He points a finger at Grigori. "You slithering snake! Anarchist! How dare you read that as if you know anything about the laws of Newhaven! Brevic 'authority' be damned." Verik takes a step towards him, his hand still clutching the petition. With a sneer he dismisses him with a wave and says, "Fool! You answered your own question. A trial may be if the Council decrees, but the punishment of the Stag Lord has been lawfully and dutifully given 'by the sword' over a year ago. By the laws of nearly every civilized land you cannot execute someone twice. In any event this is not for one such as you to decide, and your poison is not welcome here. Leave."
Berrin scoffs at Kesten's notion of inviting the Brevic nobility to hord court in Newhaven but when he mulls it over he has to admit that he's right. 'Ain't no noble houses in Newhaven, 'xept us perhaps, an it ain't fair for us to be judging our own.' Berrin gets a sour taste in his mouth at the thought of sitting in judgment over Jemini.
Hearing Grigori's voice puts a frown on Berrins face. "I thought I expelled that man from Newhaven." he mutters sourly.
A half smile creeps onto his face at Verik's response though. "Yup. I distictly remember his intestines spilling on the ground when I ripped my sword out of his gut." Berrin speaks up drawing Grigori's gaze he meets his eyes and smiles coldly at the bard. "Were'nt expelled from Newhaven?" he asks inocently.
Grigori adopts an air of indignation. "I most certainly was not! What sort of justice would that be? The Archbanker's cousin was the only one exiled that day. This may not be a true River Kingdom, but does the principle of 'Say What You Will, I Live Free' not still ring true in Sanctuary? A Sanctuary for whom, if those critical of unchecked power are not allowed to speak?"
"Should the Red Stag, vicious bandit that he was, be allowed to walk these halls again should his words of warning hold true? Should he, too, be allowed access," he says with a bit of a suggestive sneer, "to the good Lady Jemini here? Are one's sins are washed away in death? How are we to trust that he is repentant? Should that not be a question for a court of law, bound by tradition in the customs of the nation that first set Newhaven upon its path? Or shall it be decided simply by the fiat of a Council beholden to no one?"
"Oh, so now we are to believe that you're a neutral party in all this." Berrin says with a laugh. "Listen, bub. The Red Stag did not repent, so we gave him the noose. Just like the Stag Lord did not repent and we gave him the sword. The Red Stags boys repented so we were lenient, Akiros Ismort repented so we were lenient. If the Red Stag would walk in and beg mercy we'd give him the same chance we did others, on a tighter leash to be sure, but still a chance."
"We have Jemini's word that Nikolai repented during their walk through the abyss. And frankly, I'll take her word over anything you'll ever say in your entire, miserable, little life."
Svetlana is the next to speak, trying to please all as she always does. "He has a point, Berrin, and so do you. I'm confident that a careful look at the facts will show that he is repentant and that his death and resurrection gives him a second chance. But it's healthy for us to not simply rely on our own judgments. I, for one, could not be fair in judging Jemini, and I'm not sure I can be fair regarding Nikolai either. His bandits terrorized us. You were there the night that they almost killed Oleg. Can I be a fair judge and a victim of one, or a friend of another? Can you?" She stands and presses her hands gently on the back of her chair. "Let's bring it to a vote. I think that we should do it the way that Kesten suggested."
Oleg grunts and clears his throat. "Guess I agree."
Hearing Svetlana echo his own thoughts make Berrin flinch. "Your right Svetlana. Agreed." he says after a pause.
"Not that I get a say in the matter." he mutters with a glare at Verik.
"Like I said. I agree to a trial, but not in favor of the timing."
In the heated words that follow her speech, Jemini smiles earnestly and nods at each of the speakers. Her expression stays a serene mask even as Grigory speaks, though her eyes hold a blue shimmer for a few seconds - almost imperceptible in the barrage of debate that floods to and fro around her.
That's why bards are pesky, all that hide-alignment trickery. :p
Pointedly ignoring the outsider Grigori, he takes on his most authoritative tone of voice that he can muster and addresses the Council. "As High Cleric of Newhaven I will not stand against a full accounting of Nikolai Rogvaria's prior acts. For Ilyana and the others, I would give full voice to those that were grieved by these actions before his lawful execution."
He then holds up his hand in warning. "But as Adjudicator of the Tribunals and Agent of the Lawgiver in these lands, I must tell you this Trial is non-binding under the Lawgiver. You can have no lawfully recognized penances issued for these past acts, due to the Paradox of Dual Poena Circumstantia."
Verik lowers his hand, but moves to displays his holy symbol out for all to see, adding, "You all seem to want to defer to customs of foreign circumstance because it is easier to do so. I understand your reasons for retribution, but that is not the Law. If any of you pursue or by inaction defer or allow a punishment to occur on Newhaven soil, you will be held as lawbreakers under the eyes of Abadar. This is my word. This I swear."
Jhod slams a hand in frustration against the thick table that sits in front of the Founders. "Damn it, Verik! This is not a theocracy! We don't require anyone to worship Abadar, nor do we decide things by Abadar's laws. I'll be the first one to say that it's a good start to base our own rules on, but just that. Would you want to be judged by Erastil's rules? Old Deadeye would object to Jemini being our leader, but here we are. Let's not get ahead of ourselves and say that Abadar's rules are any more or less binding than the traditions that Kesten's talking about. The only law that should apply in Newhaven are the laws of Newhaven. Not Abadar's, not Erastil's, and not Brevoy's. I vote against Kesten's proposal."