Nikolai grits his teeth and tries his best to deliver a message with special meaning. It doesn't take much for his special meaning to become clear: Newhaven is a fearsome nation that will not hesitate to defend itself against any enemies. He simply couches it in slightly less plain language. "Does the Kolga appreciate its position now? It stands at a crossroads, as I once did, having to decide where to place its trust and its future. My lady is a stalwart friend to have. Choosing to ignore this would be a foolhardy move."
Hargulka, for his part, simply abandons subtlety and tact entirely, eschewing Jemini's approach and sticking with his own strengths. "Fools follow little human girls," he growls. "Mark my words - the arrogance of humanity will be its undoing. It will march its armies into my lands to take what is mine, what my patroness has recognized is mine by right. We are mighty, and they are weak! Are you weak, centaurs? Do you wish to lay down as lapdogs, to be thrown first into my claws? Choose to side with the humans if you will, for I know that centaur meat tastes just as fine as human. So long as you do not want this to happen to you, you must take my offer!"
The others let out a howl of terrible noise to cap off his demands. It is a sheer show of force, one that lets the centaurs know how dangerous of an enemy these "monsters" might be to them. "You are either with us, or you stand against us," whispers the hag in a guttural spit that manages to ring out over all of them.
The Kolga chieftain looks between Hargulka and Jemini. It is plain on his face that he does not know who to choose. The chieftain of the Ganghash seems to be whispering to him furiously, but he doesn't seem to be listening closely. The other members of the tribe look indecisively between themselves, torn between Jemini's words and the sheer fear inspired by Hargulka.
Verik takes the moment as the centaurs are considering their options of fear to step close to Jemini, waving Nikolai and Akiros in to his urgent whispered discussion.
"There's nothing for it now - Kolga should not have buckled under such sinister threats, but I cannot tell if they are swayed by pure fear or not. Look to Magrat now, and see how they react to the threat of force! They are not like our Rashkala friends, even though they hold alliance between them. They must be shown strength Jemini, and somehow we must show our might is greater and more vast then the reach of these monster's claws and teeth. Go at Magrat with everything you can to impress upon them that we are deadlier to cross, and hopefully their alliance with Rashkala will carry them the rest of the way."
With a quick look that the gathering is starting to quiet down to hear their words once more, Verik whispers his final guiding instructions. "Magrat, then Cangarit for last. I was wrong about Cangarit though, thinking they were mere warmongers like their Ganghash allies. No, I was in error - they hold to Ganghash out of survival and hate all the other tribes, but I think it is in part because they feel themselves to be maligned and pushed by the others. Honeyed words may just sway them to see a different path where they can be more influential than they are now, even if to simply spite the will of the others."
On Verik's words, Jemini spies the stomping of hooves with the Magrat young - and even the veteran warriors looked restless. Verik was right, a show of strength would sway their line. Iomedae sharpen my tongue!
Jemini steps forward, a step, another. Straight towards the troll king, her face is awash with anger, that had been held in check under the surface from when the troll spoke last. Her head cranes up toward the towering form, but her words speak onto him as if from a great height. "Hargulka! Cease your shameful tongue! You can belittle me all you want and taunt humanity from within the safety of this summit - but how dare, how dare you, threaten our hosts the nomen?! Their tongues may be sealed by the traditions of the bones we stand under - but mine is not!" Jemini's rage flares with her hair as a wind sweeps her mane aloft for a moment. "Is that all a troll king is good for? To be the first to feast on the flesh of slain foes and subjugated allies? Strength?! Strength alone makes right? A pawn to a patroness and still you seek to subjugate others! What blind arrogance compels you to spit this drivel of might and right and the desire to eat centaur meat? ...I was expecting an equal and hoped for a potential ally, but this... this is pitiful." She keeps standing, right before the troll king, her eyes ablaze.
Aid Another Intimidate:
"Words...so many words. Why do we continue to speak when all know what is needed here, what must be done. Justice must be had, the souls of the many slain cry out for it!"
He then turns once again towards the hag, his hated enemy. He approaches her. She towers above him, she is creature straight out of the nightmares of men. Her strength is prodigious, her fangs fierce and sharp and able to rip and tear flesh with ease, and yet this man, this human, stands before her. Not only is it clear to all that he has no fear towards her whatsoever, but that also he wants to do battle with her, he is eager. His eyes cold as the death he promises, Akiros sweeps his gaze over all the Troll King's minions, his words hard as steel as they leave his lips "Enjoy the protection of these talks while you can, spawn of evil, for know this, your deaths are already sealed, and I shall deliver yours myself." his glare locking onto the hag as he finishes.
"Truly now you see the savagery of these who call themselves enlightened beings, their hidden "truth" about humanity little more than a paper veil to pitifully hide their own desire for wanton blood."
Verik steps forward then, but towards the edge where the Magrat tribe watches and not towards Hargulka or his minions. He sizes up the leadership as best as he can, making a bid to put enough fear in forcing them to choose a course of action.
"But this Hargulka is right about one thing. Humanity IS coming. And by the grace and might of Abadar, we bring steel to ward his blows and sunder his claws! We build engines of war to tear down his stones and logs! We bring ships to guard the waterways and confine him to his stinking swamps like a cage! And," he adds with a final look at Hargulka and his two-headed troll ally, "we bring weapons that use fire to end their roars. ALL that he boasts in this fear-mongering is countered by my people. We did not seek the fight, but we shall put an end to it, and to those that stand with him in blind folly."
Grunting with pain at the foul negative energy spirit searing his leg, Verik focuses intently upon the Dragon Lord’s massive hulking frame, his eyes narrowing shrewdly as he seems to spy out something unseen. With a defiant bark he yells, ”By the grace of the Inheritor and under the gaze of my departed love Arianne, I both name you and defy you, Nikolai Rogarvia! To the Abyss shall you be hurled screaming! You may be ruler of flame and fearful darkness here, but I am the master of magic crafted upon this world!” He clenches his left hand into a fist even as the golden key symbols upon his shield and armor glow with a bright golden light, lending his voice strength. ”BY ABADAR’S unyielding will, DENY this anarchic beast of Woe his magical protections, so that we may lay him low!”
Using his shield before him as a bulwark against the Dragon Lord, Verik cannily casts his powerful prayer, building a powerful golden ball of swirling light in his hand until it bursts forth in a wave of energy at the monster; the golden wave coalesces around the Dragon Lord's armor, boots, the ring on his right hand and finally Dragonsbreath. The light seems to cause each dreaded item to flicker and falter, their own magical auras intermingled with golden light and seemingly caged within it. In a reversal of overt raw power, the Dragon Lord suddenly shrinks back to his "normal" towering size, losing the fraction of muscle and mass that had been gained by his enlargement. So too does he seem to slow down to a more normal movement that before seemed to blur with serpent-like speed. Only Dragonsbreath counters the Archbanker's spell, the raw fiery fury of the blade cracking through the golden light and then breaking its hold completely, roaring in full strength as if to protest the attempt.
"That confounded sword," breathes Verik while shaking his head slightly, surveying his handiwork. Then raising his shield once again, he rapidly utters the words "Cogs to Light, Feet to Flight!" and suddenly becomes a white ball of light; the light orb streaks a small distance away from the Dragon Lord before he can strike with his blade, reappearing as the Archbanker with an audible "pop" to Nikolai's far left flank, as if daring the Dragon Lord to pursue him and expose his side to Jemini and The Cog.
Zander laughs, "I guess, I could have just said no. This is what I get for being bored in court all morning."Taisper chuckles softly, his hair obscuring his face for a moment. "Yeah, I understand, I just..." He gives a resigned sigh. "I always feel like she's correcting me, you know? I always feel...I guess...sort of less when she's around. Maybe that's a result of the whole Will thing you mention, and from her bein' a noble and all." He pauses, thinking, then starts again, speaking slowly, as if working something out for himself and unable to do so unless he's also talking. "In this book, Irori writes 'There is no mastery of the world, only mastery of Self.' I guess I need to see what it is within me that generates these feelings, what old wounds I-WHOA! What the heck is that?!" The Inquisitor stands, suddenly, and points at the now brightly-glowing Hall. "Wow! What are you guys doing in there these days, Z?"
Zander turns and runs for his horse yelling back over his shoulder, "That is nothing that was planned for today and looks quite unnatural. Come, ride with me. With the others gone, we are the first line of defense...and the Hall definitely looks in need of defense."
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Bless her, Nikolai thinks to himself as Jemini advances on the Troll King. She is good and beautiful and fearless. And I would be another Hargulka but for her compassion.
Nikolai steels his resolve. He understands what is happening in his heart. At first, she was merely a cutish warrior woman, one he thought to slay to rid himself of inconvenience. When the two cut each other down, he knew she was different. Her first gift to him was to end his pain.
Then redemption came, and Nikolai admired her nobility. Her heart. Then his appreciation bloomed and her began to think of her as woman. Chaste, beautiful, desirable.
Evn then, he could block the thoughts from his mind. Nikolai had celebrated battles in the company of women. He had taken the wives of fallen foes for his own. His greatest pleasure had always been killing, but he understood other joys. He knew in time of war how to block them from his mind.
But today it is clear to him, she is lovely, and radiant. She is fierce and fearless. Today the vision of Jemini before him is a complete woman, and better than he in every way. Today he cannot deny he has fallen in love. Even if she does not return his affection. Even if he can never tell her or show it.
Nikolai loves Jemini.
But he knows he is no good to her staring like a lovesick dog. The nomen must hear the choice she offers. He strides to stand behind her, even as Akiros speaks to the hag and Verik judges Hargulka's words. Nikolai has led men into battle, but has never led men into goodness. His heart fills with resolve. For the first time, he thinks with Jemini and her friends at his side, the Conqueror is destined to lose. The immortal fey who play at their games have not seen such as these heroes before. Events will be different this time.
Nikolai stands a head taller than Jemini. He ignores her flowing hair and the strength in her posture. He allows himself only to be moved by the courage in her voice. He is careful not to move in front of her, mindful that he must give strength to her words. When his companions have finished their statements, Nikolai nods to the nomen chiefs, casting his last gaze on the Magrat. "This moot is a new beginning. Those who devour their enemies have been judged. Do not side with them. If you do not trust the words of my liege, then stand your ground while I slay the Troll King. You will know neither his slavery, nor will you be branded an enemy if you lay down your arms while the monsters fall. I give you my word, Hargulka and his allies are no match for Queen Jemini. Our offer is one of friendship if you join us, his offer is for destruction if you do not join him. I tell you today, the Troll King Hargulka will not survive engagement with my Queen. Take sides with her, or take no sides at all until you see my promise fulfilled. We are asking to join with your strength, and not demanding to shatter it."
Nikolai take a step back, very clearly leaving Jemini alone in the light before the assembled nomen. As he does, he adds a final comment.
"If you do join us tonight, the spoils of his camp will be shared with you. He owes you that much for his threats."
Hargulka seems to shy away from Jemini's incredible righteous power. He watches as the Magrat openly cheer her on and stamp their hooves. His grotesque features fall as he realizes that this round of negotiations is already lost to him. Jemini's show of force is more than he can muster on its own; the ample assistance of her steely lieutenants is more than he can overcome. "You think I fear you?" His roar is directed at maintaining what he already has.
The two-headed troll scans the crowd, likely looking for undecided centaurs. He nods with one head to the minotaur and with the other to the hag. The other two scan, looking for a way to maximize their final pitch rather than trying to convince an already-convinced Magrat tribe. They watch for the reactions to Hargulka's speech.
"I fear nothing, little girl. I have known power, seen things that you could not comprehend. We have been gifted with strength from the planes that you cannot match. This is no boast, nor is it a warning. It is a promise. Marshal your forces! I will feast on your flesh myself! I know no fear!" He strides out and grabs a torch that has been set up to grant a flickering light over the proceedings. He presses it against his flesh, directly in the meddle of his chest. He matches Jemini's gaze with one of his own as he shows neither pain nor fear of fire, a troll's traditional terror. He holds the torch against his chest and pushes it into his own skin until the flames are smothered. He throws it to the ground with a soft thump against the dead grass. "You don't scare me, humans."
Zander and Taisper rush to the Founder's Hall. The timber-and-stone castle glows with a blue light that comes from the Hall itself. The local guards, having rushed to meet the source of the strange light, have their weapons out and look to the pair for guidance. The door guardsmen pull open the heavy oak doors to the Hall.
Taisper and Zander see a very strange sight before them. Juxtaposed over their own familiar Founder's Hall is a dark doppelganger of the same. Both are visible, overlapping, and distinct. Close to them, they see a familiar face standing atop a glowing set of runes. They seem to be straddling the two versions of the Founder's Hall, somehow in both at once. Both Taisper and Zander recognize Willas Gunderson, the Pathfinder that Verik has been working with for several weeks. He is accompanied by an elf - a wizard, by the look of him, though most elves would have that look if not wearing armor - and a grim-looking man with a glowing sword of the Aldori style.
Further into the Founder's Hall, they see a terrible mirror of their own familiar meeting hall. It is dominated by a massive throne, seemingly modeled after the Dragonscale Throne in New Stetven. Standing at the base of the throne is an unmistakeable figure: the hulking form of Nikolai Rogarvia, dragonsbreath in hand. It is not the Nikolai that they know, however; he looks far worse than he ever did as the Stag Lord and considerably older. His face hides under a massive draconic helm, but his booming voice carries over.
To the right of Nikolai, Taisper spots Verik in full armor and regalia. He immediately knows his own cousin, from mannerisms to gait to speech. His cousin, though, looks decades older than the young man he saw a few days before. "”BY ABADAR’S unyielding will, DENY this anarchic beast of Woe his magical protections, so that we may lay him low!”" Verik invokes their shared god, and pours a radiant light over Nikolai. He mutters something to himself when the magic seems to have little effect on dragonsbreath, then says clearly, "Cogs to Light, Feet to Flight!" He blinks out of vision for a moment, then reappears to the left of his foe.
There are two other figures in the room. Jemini is there, radiant with power and purpose. Despite Taisper's earlier complaints, she is a breathtaking figure. Sword and shield in hand, she and Nikolai stare at each other with years of pain in their eyes. The other figure, though, Taisper recognizes immediately and intimately. The figure is himself, glowing with divine energy and power. Taisper can hear a steady stream of Celestial voices in his head, overwhelming his senses. He hears a voice in his mind - his own voice, but not one that he has any control over. It speaks to him in Celestial and Common, all at once. "Taisper. Look at this future. It cannot come to pass as it has. Trust in the Lawgiver."
The doors of the Dragon Lord's throne room burst open. A half-dozen growling worgs, mutated beyond recognition by Choral's experiments, stand in their way. They flex the dragon wings that the experiments gave them, while their maws drip flaming saliva onto the ground. Elsir, Borodin, and Willas all prepare to defend themselves against the horrible creatures.
At the same time, they feel a pulling sensation, like slowly falling backwards with one's eyes closed. The runes below their feet rotate more quickly, lighting up and changing form a hundred times a second. The throne room begins to slip away, replaced by a different version of the same. Two figures come into focus, staring at them. One is a man with a horned helm and a bow; the other is a young ascetic of little remarkability. Elsir points to them, "There! They're from our present!"
"Withhold our destiny? Nikolai, think! You've blinded yourself - or perhaps Choral has blinded you - to what was plain to see. We've spent 20 years together. Have you only laid your eyes on me with lust? Have you not once looked at what was really there?"
Jemini's words evoke powerful emotions, they stir at memories long suppressed; a half-light of spirits shimmer into the air and show what once was, a battle that happened years ago:
Jemini's decision is made almost before the scales can be drawn. The greatsword of the Stag Lord plunges into her womb with such finality that her life fades from her as she feels the hilt push against her ravaged belly.
The Stag Lord's roar of victory echoes through the plains, his wild eyes turn to settle on Taisper. That frozen insect will die now and the usurpers will be vanquished. He swings his-- the weapon does not follow, with rage he looks back to the corpse of the paladin, why is she smiling? Serene?! Her dead hands have closed around the blade, not yielding the sword. With another roar, this time of anger, he tears the blade free, leaving Jemini's womb a barren sickly mess after birthing a giant sword.
"Nikolai... not once in twenty years have I shed my monthly blood. Not once since you first tore me apart."
The sensation of the runes gives Borodin pause. Seeing the young Taisper enter the throne room is heartening but brings distraction. The runes are working but they are obviously not completely charged. The flaming spittle and roars from the Worgs refocuses his awareness back to the fight. With an arcane word and a quick gesture, Borodin invokes a shield to bolster his defenses against the vile creatures.
The Cog - now an avatar of Abadar's will - glows with divine power. His clarion voice continues speaking in Common and Celestial, overlaid with a hundred chiming voices. "Nikolai, you have failed the will of Abadar. You have defied God's Will. All that you have killed for will crumble away in time. I can See the laws of time, of reality itself. This is a future that will wither away, as it should. All the misery that you have inflicted upon this world will be undone." As he speaks, he settles into a reactive stance of martial ability. He swings at the Dragonlord with a few strikes, testing his reflexes and keeeping himself at the ready to deflect dragonsbreath if Nikolai turns to him.
Elsir seems to react to the worgs entering the throne room even before the door flies open. He holds his hand up and launches beams of pure force at the malevolent creatures. The blue missiles hit three of the worgs squarely and unerringly. Two of them fly back, knocked to the ground despite their powerful builds.
Jemini shakes her head at Hargulka, but then turns away from the troll king and returns to her initial position. Outwardly it appears as if she's regathering her thoughts and restoring her composure, a small prayer on her lips, Sarenrae, please nudge my thoughts . She takes a deep breath, then gives a nod to the head of the Cangarit tribe, before addressing all assembled.
"I am Jemini, born of House Lebeda, I've enjoyed the privileged life of nobility as I grew up. For many in a similar position, that is where the story ends. A life of privilege begets a life of privilege." She pauses a moment to allow the thoughts of her audience to shift gears easier, then continues, "But Newhaven is not like that. It is a nation founded on practical needs, and its core tenets - the ideas it lives by - are of pragmatic equality. I give voice to the nation, but the power behind it lies in its council, who in turn derive their insight from those who live in Newhaven. ...why does all this matter? Because our citizens are not just humans. Some of our eyes in the wilds are noble wolves. Some of our friends are kobolds. No celebration in Newhaven is complete without toasting with the fine ale made by a naked dwarf. Oh yes. There are humans. Many too. But what is important is who you are, and how you can contribute."
"Newhaven is a place where differences are celebrated, not shunned. And in our choice of friends and allies we are no different. We are honored by the opportunity afforded us here today. We are grateful. And we welcome the nomen to share in our lives."
So, cracks in the juggernaut’s air of invincibility! That’s grand. But moreso the aid of craft to counter clear weakness. Clever for a troll…hmmm… really a granted given for an intelligent troll such as he. But can they craft magic as well as we? Surely not…probably the hag…but no matter how he comes by his powers. I can no longer afford to underestimate him because of his race…this journey has taught me that lesson and I should heed it. Time enough for that after the moot, but we must now try and capstone this well.
Verik nods in thoughtful assent at Jemini’s speech to the Cangarit, noticing how she gives voice to the non-human races they have encountered in a preemptive attempt to spoil the static vision that Hargulka has tried to push before. He can see some of the spiteful and distrusting eyes of the tribe widen slightly at the mention of wolves and kobolds, and at least one snort humorously at the reference to Bokken. He can tell she offers a different vision than what they have ever heard previous to this gathering, and her vision is compelling.
Yet Verik can see they are fearful in losing their own alliance with Ganghash and set with animosity to the other tribes around them; they seethe at the cheers of Magrat, the apparently haughty nods of Rashkala and the scheming ways of Kolga. No doubt they hope that if the mighty Ganghash and the other detestable tribes fight the “humans” for this Hargulka, the losses inflicted upon the most powerful tribes could provide an opening to a Cangarit resurgence, or at least more territory northward to roam. A simple fool’s gambit of desperation really, one that surely is understood by every tribe’s elders to ensure Cangarit does not avoid bloodshed with their own warriors. But how to counter?
Verik seizes on something Jemini just said, for the words “protection” and “slavery” with Jabber’s people has troubled the Banker for quite some time. He holds to that angle, hoping that it will resonate with the Cangarit and their own feelings of suppression.
”Great Cangarit of the Nomen, hear the words of Jemini, for they have truth and are truly spoken. You have heard of what this Troll King and his noble warriors will do to humans and all those who side with them. Oh yes, those threats of teeth and claws and smashing and eating are now quite clear to their many enemies.”
He says the last with as much smug derision as he can muster, then turns to Cangarit fully and uses his most impassioned voice for the next part. ”But what of their friends great centaurs of Nomen? What of their friends? Do you suppose they will afford you honor and respect? A place at the great stone table to be heard as equals with the others in this Kingdom of Troll King? NO! No. It is a lie. For we know what happens to those that are allies in his kingdom who do not hold as much power as troll. They are reduced to slaves. Slaves! To serve and die at his whim. This is the fate of the kobolds of his lands, who all serve as his slaves. Some have joined us humans, and are no longer slaves. Are the kobolds in Newhaven stronger than those in lands of Troll King? No. That is proof of Jemini’s words as truth.”
In a flourish, he points his arm and hand back at Hargulka. ”Join him, and you may fight for gain, and even prosper for a short time. But the moment you lose strength of warriors and weapons, and can no longer hold your lands with spear and bow, your value to him is no more, and you will be chained as slaves, a free tribe no more. That is his promise for your future, and those of your children, once you are ground down to meat and bone in his wars.”
Tired of all this talking and debate, yet fully aware of it's vast importance, Akiros summons the patience for one more attempt at coming up with the right words to sway yet another Nomen tribe. Taking his cue from the others, he steps forward towards the Cangarit "Think also, mighty Cangarit, of the rewards for our allies when the Troll King and his disease of a 'kingdom' are finally no more. There will be much land to reclaim, many riches to redistribute. Our Jemini is nothing if not generous, some may even say to a fault. So what would you be? Slaves? Or masters of new land and wealth?"
Diplomacy:
Nikolai barely hears the events going on around him. His "friends" have committed all they once fought for to ruin. Jemini is fool enough to take arms against him, and the grace of Abadar, denied the Dragonlord his whole life, is once again bestowed on the old Taisper.
The blood rushing through his draconic skin gives him an inhuman red tint, and the roar of battle lust drowns out the sounds of roaring wargs and fleeing servants as the giant lifts dragonsbreath overhead and steps into his swing. Your god is too late, Cog. Explain your failure to him yourself.
A bright flash intercedes between the great blade and Taisper's reformed body, but Nikolai brings the blade through Verik's shield of magic and connects with his one-time friend. Blood flows and boils, though the the heat from dragonsbreath does not sear the Cog at all.
The blade sizzles, Taisper's blood caking and charring on the steel as it rises and falls again. As Nikolai swings, the ghostly images of the dragons his blade has slain rake out with their claws.
The Dragonlord does not even raise his strike a third time, knowing the Cog will twitch for several seconds before his death rattle. He turns to Verik. You should have saved that shield for yourself, Fool. As always, you think to support those your cowardice places in harms way. You should have supported me.
One ghastly dragon head snakes out to attack Verik's legs again. Another, its ghostly image proud and tall, lifts its maw to the arched ceiling and roars.
The former Staglord affects a cheerful look. The words of Hargulka boil somewhere deep inside him, but Nikolai saves that rage for later. He approaches the troll and his monstrous friends to began his final remark in support of his queen.
"I am grateful to the Troll King for one thing. He has made your decisions very easy tonight. By threatening you if you do not join him, he reveals what kind of beast he is. He shows you his teeth and his claws and he promises to eat your neighbors if they do not join you in siding with him. He made it easy for me to promise to kill him for you. But I did not promise you I would kill him." He turns and looks barely up to lock eyes with his adversary. "That promise I make only to him."
He turns his head and moves over to the centaurs, reaching down for a cup full of mead as he passes one of the tables. He stops and raises his flagon toward the chief of the Cangarit. "This is the promise I make to you. To make friends, and for all of us to be free." He pauses, guzzling a long draught of the spirits until his upturned cup dripped no longer, while the younger nomen cheered him on. He slams down the flagon and gestures broadly, toward the Cangarit, and then to the other centaurs. "I pledge to you all, and always: Brothers in arms when need be, but always willing to share freedom, and a drink and a song in peace."
"Tasiper? Talk to me. What are we looking at? Is that you..and Verik...and Jemeni? What is going on and....oh no, that's Nikolai."
The door bursting open followed by the arrival of a pack of scaled worgs allows Zander to pick a target without worrying over what he didn't understand
Hargulka and his followers barely contain their collective rage. Hargulka came to the centaurs looking for allies, and did not expect or plan for humanity's champions to offer any resistance. "Stand with the humans, fools, and you will share their fate. Once my patron gives me leave, do not expect mercy or patience." His words seem to have little effect on the Cangarit, who appear unimpressed and uninterested in his bluster. His lackeys glare and growl to bolster the threats, but there isn't much room left. The tribes have settled upon which sides they will follow.
Verik counts his allies as closely as any politician counts votes. The Rashkala, Magrat, and Cangarit definitely appear to have thrown their lots in with Newhaven. The Ganghash definitely seem to desire an alliance with Hargulka's empire of monsters. The Kolga, though, seem to be the only ones that waver at all. Verik's canny eyes and newly insightful gaze sits upon them long enough to see that they appear - tentatively - to be following the Ganghash towards Hargulka's side. Disappointed as he is to lose one of the tribes, the three tribes that Jemini's strong words brought to Newhaven's side should be sufficient. Together with Nikolai's strength over the worgs, the trolls have far fewer allies than they did a month prior. What did Hargulka mean, though? Was the mysterious fey queen of winter waiting? With the army of Newhaven being barely more than a few hundred at most, they are still vulnerable.
The rest of the day and night go by quickly. The divided tribes shuffle and sort themselves into new alliance - the Cangarit, Rashkala, and Magrat joining the humans at a camp north of the giant skeleton; the Kolga and Ganghash to the south. The groups can see one another, illuminated by dozens of huge bonfires that dot the landscape. The centaurs offer wineskins and dripping bison meat to their new allies, while making boisterous boasts about the impotence and powerless nature of their enemies. The champions of Newhaven speak to the tribal leaders of their three allies, working out a plan for the nomadic centaurs to manuever northwest. (Berrin, they desperately hope, will be able to convince Baron Varn to respect the border between Varnhold and the centaur lands.) Naturally, Hargulka's new allies will move more to the southwest. The centaurs explain that they will likely have some skirmishes between the tribes to settle scores that have festered for hundreds of years, but that they will not go into open warfare without the blessing of their allies.
The summit complete, the humans and trolls both head back to their respective homelands. Both groups are accompanied by a veritable herd of centaurs to guard against an ambush attack by the other group. Safe passage is assured to and from the summit by the centaurs' ancient customs. Violating those customs will result in the wrath of the centuars, and the loss of allies previously gained. The two groups separate and head in opposite directions.
The Founders return to the mesa of the Rashkala and spend another night there. Verik finds his items strewn about again, resulting in a long speech to the young centaurs about a respect for private property. They do not appear to understand, even with a translation from Erdija. Some things simply will not change, no matter how much he desires it.
Jemini, Nikolai, Verik, and Akiros ride west back to Silverstep Lake. They stop to check on the abandoned fishing hamlet, finding it to still be eerily quiet with no sign of life or activity. The south side of the coast has a few small huts with wary families. The frontier - a no man's land with no central leadership or protection - has a citizenry of brave, hardy souls. The group is suspicious, more than most, of outsiders not known to them. While the Founders might be well-known and welcomed in any home in Newhaven, here they are viewed with suspicion and skepticism. They could be bandits, after all. The four of them make it past the lake to the Gudrin river, camping along its banks.
Nikolai's worg allies return, finding them as they break their fast in the morning. Red Eyes reports that they followed the scent of the fishing village eastward, deep into the craggy hills and mountains beyond the Tors of Levenie. The trail eventually went cold and faint, leaving them unable to follow it any further. Nikolai thanks them for their service and sends them to herald him at the moon moot.
The Founders cross the Gudrin River at the ford just as dusk falls over the land. Candlemere Lake glistens a dozen miles to the west. They ride hard as night falls, trying to close the distance back to Sanctuary so that they can sleep in their own beds rather than bedrolls or centaur cots. They arrive a few hours later, with no one to greet them. Akiros waves to Lieutenant Grayson, who leads the guard patrol. She reports little action or criminal activity in the days since they have been gone. With the city safe and sound, the four of the tired travelers retire for a well-earned rest.
The Dragon Lord brings his flaming blade down into the glowing Cog, cutting the divine emmisary down with vicious brutality. The body of the Cog goes down, though the divine light - and the overwhelming presence of Abadar's blessing - continues to radiate in the shape of a man. The mortal vessel of Taisper Stosz lays on the floor, but his spirit remains fully within the fight.
Taisper sees Nikolai - a hulking, unmistakable figure despite his unusual armor - cut into his alter ego. The young man's head swims that at what he is seeing. He can feel the aura of his God emanating from his fallen self. He can feel the power coursing through him, like lightning through a rod. With his future self struck down, the avatar of divine strength that he was channeling remains connected to this place and time through the younger Taisper. "Is this how I die?" he quietly wonders to himself. "Is this my destiny?" The certainty of the situation - his death at the hand of Nikolai Rogarvia, the way it might have been at Stagfall had Jemini not sacrified herself that day - gives him strength. He knows now that he will not die in any of the challenges of Newhaven, not for decades at least.
Elsir launches out a stream of blue energy at the worgs, as Zander's arrows fly at the backs of the half-dragon worgs. One of them leaps onto Willas, bringing him down and slashing viciously at him with terrible claws and burning bites. The Pathfinder fights hard, hitting the lupine beast with the pommel of his rapier, trying to get it off. One of Elsir's blast smashes into the worg with the force of a charging bull, throwing it off Willas and onto its side.
Nikolai turns his attention to Verik. "You! I should have killed you years ago!" The cleric of Abadar, attention briefly diverted by the fall of his cousin and the appearance of his cousin's younger form, looks back to Nikolai. He erupts with the power of Jemini's blessing. He takes a step back and calms himself, even as Nikolai advances upon him with murder in his eyes. He steps forward just as Nikolai does, pressing his hand upon his former friend's chest. Nikolai recoils as the dark energy courses through his body. It burns worse than fire and chills more than ice, but it will take far more than that to bring down the Dragon Lord.
Nikolai brings his blade up and viciously hammers Verik with blows. He does not fence with subtlety, like the Aldori Swordlords who fell a dozen at a time to his onslaught when he first joined Choral. He slams his sword as if it were a hammer on a forge, relentlessly bringing it down upon Verik's shield. Verik keeps his shield arm up, letting the barrier take the brunt of Nikolai's wrath, but each blow is heavier than the last. Blood runs out of his ears, as each strike from Nikolai's blade rocks his entire body. His knees buckle under the onslaught, driving him downwards.
Jemini charges forward, catching Nikolai's final blow just before he can deliver a fatal strike towards Verik. "You have killed enough, Nikolai. This must end now," she says. She drives her blade into him, piercing through him with a shining blade. "You must know how far you have fallen, Nikolai. Repent, allow these travelers to return home. Look at how my blade cuts you. I linked my destiny with yours, and there is still a chance for you to cast off your sins and save us both!"
Nikolai shouts with years of pent-up anger and desperation. "It is your fault, Jemini! I loved you, and you spat in my face! could have joined me years ago, fought Choral together. I did what I had to for you, and no other! I saved thousands with my sacrifice, but you all stood before me at every turn!"
Kneeling before the man who cut out his tongue and addled his mind, Verik coughs up blood. "No, Nikolai. You chose your path." He reaches forward and invokes his god. He calls not for his own safety, or to smite down the man who turned him into a echoing shadow of his former self. He knows that he will be open to Nikolai's attacks, and that his life is all but over. At least, he notes ruefully, he knows that his sacrifice - like Taisper's - will bring forward a new and better world. He gives his life willingly so that none of this will ever come to pass, happy to finally be himself for the first time in years at his final moments. A radiant, pure light emerges between the Dragon Lord - and himself, Jemini, and the Cog - and the travelers trying to return to the past. A wall of pure force, intricately designed with hexagons of mutually-reinforcing magical power, separates them. It will be enough, he knows. Nikolai's strength is terrible enough that it would not hold forever, but between the wall and Jemini, he will not have the time.
Nikolai, mad with grief and rage, shouts a terrible bellow. He brings his sword down upon Verik and does not stop until it is wedged deep into the floor that Verik stood upon. The cleric falls before his power - but the final miracle of Archbanker Verik Jarrow stands separating the Dragon Lord from his prey.
As the wall of perfect force shimmers like blue diamonds, the three travelers struggle with the monstrous servants of the Dragon Lord. Zander continues pouring arrows as quickly as he can from the doorway at the worgs, focusing his precise fire upon the same wolf. Three, four, five arrows go into its hide, an ugly mix of scales and matted fur. "Who the hell are you?" he demands from the trio who cling to the glowing runic circle below their feet.
Taisper lopes into the fight, seemingly unprepared and ungirded for the fight. But the divine power courses through him just as it does on the other side of the force barrier. He drives his foot, heel-first, in a vicious strike in the ribs of the closest worg. They crack under his heavy blow, made much more dangerous by the flash of divine light. He follows it up with a open-palmed downward strike to the worg's skull, with another powerful flash of energy.
Borodin channels electricity into his blade and rolls towards the worg that Taisper just pummelled. He comes out of the roll with a downward one-handed slash with his elegant blade. The lightning shoots out of it as he splits open the worg's bloody flank. The shocking burst courses through the blade into the worg, scorching out of its front left paw. The worg collapses on the ground, smoking out of the wounds. Its mishappen wings twitch uncontrollably as it writhes on the ground.
Willas rolls backwards and gets to his feet. "It's a bit hard to explain! Ask Verik, I'm the Pathfinder he's been working with! Some divination's gone awry and we got punted into the future!" He dips into a defensive crouch, ready to dodge out of the way on his injured ankle if one of the worgs comes back to him.
Elsir summons a conjured glob of glowing, glittering energy. He points towards the several remaining worgs in the middle of the group of travelers. It bursts with a rush of air, turning the air into a glowing radiance. Several of the worgs caught in the blast screech with draconic rage, caught unable to see.
The worgs caught in the blinding blast howl and roar at the same time. One of them lashes forward blindly with flame-dripping teeth, snapping at the air. Two of them turn towards the source of the spell, spitting out cones of flame at Elsir. The elf tries his best to dodge out of the way, but takes the brunt of the blast. Fortunately, the flames of the creatures are not nearly as white-hot as a true dragon. Elsir smokes with scorched and burned skin, but keeps his footing. The remaining worg charges towards Borodin, leaping into the air and using its wings for additional momentum. It hits Borodin squarely on the chest, but the tough veteran rebel pushes back and stays on his feet instead of going down beneath hundreds of pounds of muscle.
Jemini stands between the Dragon Lord and the protective barrier. She raises her shining shield and stiffens her stance. Verik may be fallen beneath his terrible wrath, but she remains ready and able to stop him from getting past her. "You must repent, Nikolai. There isn't much time left! Repent!" She glows with radiant power - Queen Jemini Lebeda of Newhaven. Even now, with her most loyal friend slaughtered at his sword, she tries to save Nikolai's soul. "I believed in you, and I still do. Lay down your sword," she pleads.
The hulking, bloody figure of the Dragon Lord looks up at her with red, burning eyes from beneath his draconic helm. "No, you still have a chance! I made the right choice," he shouts, "not you and not them!" He gestures rudely at the fallen Verik and Taisper. "I would have given you everything! Now get out of the way!" He raises his massive sword and charges past her, trying to slam at the wall of force. She steps between the gargantuan warrior and the protective wall. She raises her shield to him, precisely as if she knows where his sword will fall, and knocks it out of the way. He roars with anger and disbelief at her, then turns his wrath upon her.
Jemini - still both awkward and smooth at the same time - unleashes a stunning series of slashes with her sword at Nikolai. Each leads into the next, cutting him time and time again. Each slash burns with divine energy, but it is not nearly enough to take the man down. For the second time in their lives, Nikolai and Jemini are locked in mortal combat. She closes her eyes as he turns the momentum on her, taking powerful and relentless attacks at her. She dodges several of them in a row, rocking from side to side. Nikolai may be fast and unbelievably strong, but she seems ready for each attack. She absorbs the impact of one of the attacks, a deep slash that drives a hole through her armor.
Spinning in circles, Nikolai seems locked in battle with her with no thoughts for the protected travelers. He is lost in decades of love and hate twisted into one. "I loved you! Why couldn't you love me? Why?! Why?!" His diatribe is interrupted and punctuated by their traded strikes. For each of his powerful blows that he connects with, Jemini cuts him three or more times. Soon enough, the ground is wet with their blood spilled together. He looks down at the mixture, saddened and enraged at the same time. "Is this what it takes for us to be together? Where my soul goes, as does yours! You will be mine, Jemini, if it takes eternity!"
"My duty was to Newhaven, Nikolai. Beyond love. Beyond family. If you never understood that, then you never truly loved me." She spins and cuts deeply into his torso. "I hope that you understand when they make things right. I want you to be happy, but it would never have been with me." Even as she hurts him with her words, she positions herself for his next salvo of strikes. She seems exhausted and bloodied by the vicious combat. She drops her shield and grips her sword with both hands, holding it back and closing her eyes again.
Wounded both with her words and her attacks, Nikolai stumbles forward. "Forever, Jemini! It was always you!" The emphasis on the last word is tinged with a hundred emotions. He steps forward with a lunging strike. Over twenty years before, in an entire different life, he used the same attack to strike her down as the Stag Lord. Today, as the Dragon Lord, it has the same effect. He plunges his greatsword deeply into her belly, emerging from her back into a fiery burst of blood. Ready for the sacrifice, Jemini pushes forward and accepts the deadly stroke, lunging with her own thrust. She pierces his heart with her holy longsword.
Locked together, the Dragon Lord and the Queen of Newhaven stare into one another's eyes for a long few seconds. Neither speaks with their words, but a thousands things left unsaid for years passes in their connected gaze. They both fall to their knees, swords embedded in one another. She reaches out and cups his cheek, silently offering her forgiveness in her last moment. The Dragon Lord lets a fiery tear run down his face. Together, Jemini Lebeda and Nikolai Rogarvia leave to meet Pharasma again.
The blue runes of the circle below Elsir, Borodin, and Willas continue to glow and spin. The titanic battle between Jemini and Nikolai fades from their view just as it comes to a climax. The world that Taisper and Zander came from comes into bright focus as they fight for their lives against the worgs. Bloody and badly injured, the trio manages to put the last of the worgs down with the help of Zander and Taisper. The circle swirls until it bursts in a spray of blue light that forces the air pressure from the room. Ears popping, the chaos around them dies down. The three time travelers stand free, returned to the 'past' at last. The Dragon Lord's throne room is gone, replaced by the warm woods of the Founder's Hall.
Wary of mind-tricks since...since the Lake, Zander slowly backs to the door he came in. He nudges Tasiper to follow suit. His quarry gone, he now has his bow trained toward the three newcomers, moving between each as he does a quick assessment.
"You fought well against the worgs, but now stand armed in my home. I am Warden here, sworn to protect this land. What part do you play in what...whatever I just saw?"
The last of the Dragon-Wargs disappear as the blue light of the temporal runes fade from view. For Borodin, the victory is bitter sweet. He hears birds singing outside, can smell the greenery even from within the walls of the hall. But every time he blinks, he sees the trappings of the Dragon Lord surround him. The phantom images disappear as quickly as they manifest, but it is disorienting none the less.
He shakes off the distraction and helps Willas to his feet. When he is sure Willas is stable enough, he lets go and looks to Elsir. Seeing that he is ok, Borodin pulls forth a cloth and cleans the gore from Augur.
The sound of tension on bow followed by Zander’s challenge almost makes Borodin laugh. Great, am I going to die twice in one day?
He turns to face Zander as he sheaths his blade. Borodin takes one step forward and holds his hands open in front of him. “We mean you no harm Warden. And I don’t think you would believe my story, so there is but one thing to do.”
He walks slowly to the Warden’s companion and pulls a scroll case from his pack, handing it to his former master. ” Cog… I mean Taisper, you wanted me to give you this when next I saw you. Since this is probably the only way anyone will believe where and when we came from, I think you better just read it now so your friend there doesn’t ventilate someone accidentally. I just got here and I really don’t want it to be me.”
Taisper takes Borodin's offering tentatively, unfurling it without moving out of his combat stance. He reads over it twice, eyebrows moving up with surprise. He curls it back up and puts it into his waistband. "Put your bow down, Zander. They are friends."
Willas asks, "Is Verik here? We were working together on research. My associate and fellow Pathfinder, Elsir Tel'ran," he says with a gesture towards the elf, "came here to help my research."
Elsir continues the explanation. "I am a diviner, with an emphasis on augury. Willas and I engaged in a divination to determine the best course of action of the Pathfinder Society here in Newhaven. It somehow went wrong, though. I can't explain what happened, but we ended up... Elsewhere. In a possible future. A dark timeline. As you saw a moment ago, we fought our way back to our present. We have seen things in this future. It acts as a warning. We can prevent the calamitous course of events that you caught a glimpse of, if we are careful."
Zander relaxes a bit, but can't bring himself to shrug. "That makes as much sense as what I just watched." And while he lowers his bow, he leaves the arrow nocked.
He looks out into the hall, but only seeing scurrying staff. "I believe Verik and the others came in very late last night. None bothered to come down for the morning administration functions, not that I blame them. But I imagine all THIS will have garnered their notice."
Seeing the bow lowered, Borodin finally stands at ease. "C..Taisper, what year is it anyway?"
Taisper seems unbothered by the question, strange as it might seem. "4710 - the first of Desnus."
Elsir marvels at the response. "That means that we have been gone almost a week, even though we spent less than a day in this future. One would assume that we would return at the same moment we passed into the time stream, or posit that we would return an equal amount of time later. This is wholly outside the normal realm of magical knowledge. As harrowing and difficult an experience as it was, I expect that it will prove most illuminating."
Taisper seems to be a bit out of focus. Perhaps something in the note threw him off. "Borodin, right? The letter says good things about you. It says that you can be trusted, but that you might have difficulty adjusting. Why is that?"
With a clatter of feet on stone and ringing of weapons and steel, an obviously still tired Akiros rushes into the hall, followed by a passel of his guardsmen. He is unarmored, but wields 'Justice', his broadsword and is surrounded by a faint glow of magic. Several of the guardsmen bear pole-arms or swords, while the remainder are equipped with knocked and drawn bows.
Moving far enough into the room so that his milky eyes can perceive everything, he seems clearly surprised to not find the raging battle he had obviously expected to. Upon seeing Taisper and Zander apparently at ease, more or less, he holds up a hand to halt the guards. Giving a direct and discerning stare to the two strangers and the Pathfinder, Willas, without taking his eyes off of them he address the two other founders "What the hell is going on here?? I expected to find half the castle up in arms with the din from down here! And did I hear Nikolai and Jem shouting?? And worgs?? Where are they all??"
Knowing their jobs, the archers train their bows on the odd trio while the remaining guardsmen move into a position to threaten them with melee weapons.
"I'm right here," Jemini says as she descends the stairs, sword in hand but no defensive items. "But, I too wonder why I heard myself shouting. The last few words I caught from our... new arrivals... have done little to illuminate the situation. This doesn't look like it'll require immediate force to resolve, so can we have everybody gather and get this explained?"
With the arrival of Akiros and support, Zander will stow the drawn arrow in his half-empty quiver.
When Jemini enters, Zander looks to her but then quickly away. His gaze instead seems to focus on the center of the Hall. "I saw...we saw, Taisper and I, a vision. A dark vision. These three were in it, as were you, Jemini. Verick and Taisper too, I think, and...Nickolai...and worgs. But somehow these three seem to have materialized from within the dream as it faded." He turns and looks at Tasiper and Boroden, "It seems they were sent, as they brought a note."
"A mystery and a handy note explaining it? Almost too good to be true. Can we see it? I'd like to hear Verik's insights on it. And..." Jemini assesses Elsir's trappings, "...you look like a thinker, not a fighter, your thoughts too please."
Taisper keeps the note tucked away. "You will just have to trust me on this. They are who they say they are."
Elsir beckons them to sit in the seats at the Founders' Table. "It is difficult to explain with any certainty. Chronomancy is impossible to control, unlike most other types of magic. The chaos of the uncertainty of the future - each choice leading to another, like branches on an infinitely-growing tree - makes divination into the future a difficult prospect in the best of circumstances. We set out to divine the wisdom of attempting to erect a Pathfinder Lodge here, but we stumbled into a coalescence of potential outcomes. It was real, I believe; bringing back Borodin, with his experience and life borne out of the events unfolded in that future, indicates that it must exist in some form or another. The possibility of an infinite number of timelines in actual existance is a fascinating one. It is not relevant to our present, which I like to think of has some primacy. It may well have been an echo, extinguished with our return, that we were fully immersed in."
Sheathing his sword and ordering the guards to stand down, but still remain present guarding the hall and moved far enough away for privacy, Akiros shakes his head saying "Ok, so, wait, let me see if I'm understanding you correctly. You two" pointing to Elsir and Willas "Were somehow sent into some kind of alternative future? And then you somehow brought this one" indicating Borodin "back here with you? I must admit, this makes little sense to me. I can barely wrap my head around it. But, so why did this happen? What was this so called future like? And I still want to know why we heard Jemini and Nikolai yelling. It...it sounded like they were perhaps in battle with each other??"
As he turns a concerned look on Newhaven's leader.
*soft whistle* Zander pulls his helm a little lower over his face as he leans back in his chair and puts his feet on the table. He awaits the story, knowing full well nothing good can come from it, but it must be said.....and also prevented. The stag helm turns to focus on the sage, Better you than me, sir.
Borodin is about to respond to Taisper when everyone comes into the room. He turns to face them and after Akrios’ question, steps forward to address the crowd. He looks around the room before finally settling eyes on Akiros.
”My existence…all of our existence was in one word, hell. I was born two years ago in Mivon. I then spent time in Restov before coming to Sanctuary in 4726. A year later Choral the Conqueror returned to these lands claimed Brevoy and razed Restov.”
He scans the group for their reactions and then fixes his gaze on Jemini.
”Nikolia betrayed all of you, threw in his lot with Choral, and ruled Newhaven in return for who knows what. All of you were killed save for Jemini and Verik but they were both maimed and stood in Nikolai’s mock court. And Taisper, he was known only as The Cog. He led a resistance group against Nikolia, the Dragonlord. He saved me from his guards and I took up arms with him.
The battle Taisper and Warden Zander witnessed and took part in was the culmination of good versus evil in Sanctuary. Nikolai and his dragon-wargs on one side, Jemini, Verik, Cog and us travelers on the other.”
He walks closer to the newcomers but is closest to the Queen of Newhaven as he pulls back his left sleeve. ”I have come back to prevent this.” He raises his forearm so that everyone can see the brand he carries.”This is the mark of the Dragon Lord. I gave my word to the future Taisper, that I would do everything in my power to prevent my past from happening.”
Verik raises a hand to his eyes even as he stifles a long yawn, stretching his legs out underneath the heavy wooden table that dominates this section of the Keep's private library. His yawn is interrupted by yet another crashing sound from somewhere below them in the Founder's Hall, this time accompanied by muffled shouts that seem oddly familiar to him for some reason. The Banker shakes his head firmly and gives a tap-tap-tap to his forehead to be alert, all the while muttering that he should invoke his Silence prayer to keep Aylene's rantings and ravings out of his mind, even if only for a few minutes.
The prior night as they returned finally to Sanctuary, Verik hadn't even had the saddle off of Giles yet before the "Lady Myrdal" came to the courtyard with her equally foul-tempered ladies-in-waiting, demanding to know why Berrin had not returned with them. Naturally, she settled her wrath upon Verik above the others as the easiest mark. It hadn't taken more than just a few minutes before his travelworn patience had been worn away to the nub, ending in a walking shouting match between the pair all the way through the Founder's Hall. Verik finally reminded her to act like a Lady and the wife of a Founder and not like some lovesick child. Aylene responded by throwing plates from the nearby dining table that had been set with the first decent food and drink he'd seen in a fortnight. Verik finally had to leave for the Bank and his longed-for quarters with a just few scraps of bread and an apple for comfort, the wine all but smashed upon the floor.
Therefore the ruckus that was brewing down below in the Hall was decidedly ignored by the Banker of Newhaven as he sighed and attempted to finish his assessment of the "Nomen Expedition" as he crudely called it. He had brought both Anya Amitel and Dannil LeVane with him today to help cite his field notes with proper maps and documented references from established works in the library, such works as they had at hand anyway.
"This is the last of it Banker," announces Junior Clerk LeVane as he checked his own handiwork and began laying out parchments with maps and illustrations across the table for final review. He shoots a slight smug glance over at Anya at the other smaller table, as if he had just bested her in a footrace.
For her part, Senior Clerk Amitel had not picked up on the contest, tapping a quill at her cheek as she read over a passage in a nearby open tome and then furiously crosses through something she had written and corrects it. Nodding to herself, she brushes back an absent strand of brown hair behind her ear and then stood to bring over several tomes to the main table where Verik sat. "Banker, here is the final list of citations. If you approve I shall complete the final draft tonight back at the Bank's private study...you still look tired and I can handle the transcription."
"Of course Anya, I know you can." Verik rubs his eyes and looks through the references once while nodding. "Good, good. If you do not mind it so. Oh yes and good work as well Dannil - the revised maps are accurate and I like your choice of illustration as it is not overstated."
Both clerks smile and seem genuinely pleased, though a glance to each other shows a hint of jealously at being equally commended. Verik raises an eyebrow and is just about to ask them the matter when another muffled shout rings down below. "Horrid woman when she gets in these fits," he mutters, rising slowly from the table to stretch his back when a rapid series of knocks echoes off the library door.
"Just give me a blasted moment before I have to..." Verik's thought is interrupted as the door open and Jabber scampers inside, nervously looking around until he sees Verik, waving hurriedly at him.
"Master! Master of Place-with-lock-boxes-that-hold-shiny-things-of-great-riches-that-men-grove l-on! You must come with Jabber to see down in Found-Man-Hall!"
The Banker shakes his head slightly, making a mental note that he must try to explain the concept of a "Bank" better to the kobold herald when he has the time. "Jabber, I am well aware that Lady Myrdal is redecorating the Founder's Hall with a wide assortment of broken crockery and splintered chairs, but I will not allow her tantrums to..."
"No no no Master! Not red-haired scary woman with stab-sword do this! A fight down in Hall! With blue lights like talk-balloons but NOT talk-balloons, and bad snarl-wolfs but with wings like red bats! And men Master! New men here, and some have blood-leaks that cannot be good for them! Master you must come to help!"
A low voice bellows into the chamber. "What are you on about? Who sent you?" Nikolai strides into the room late. He bears the constantly flaming greatsword by its leatherbound pommel, and hastily donned breaches. His naked chest is a relief of tanned flesh and toned muscle. At almost seven feet tall, he dominates the room as he enters.
Seeing Jemini, he bows, sweeping his eyes around the room to glower at those who do not.
"Good morning, my Queen. I heard shouting. Now I see that you are in audience, but no one bows. Are you safe?"
"Not so much an audience as an unexpected offering from destiny herself," Jemini muses as she ponders the involvement of the gods most likely responsible for these events. "But be at ease," she smiles softly, "when we're among ourselves, we bow before good and virtue - but to no man or woman."
Jemini moves forward to take a closer look at Borodin and specifically the mark of the Dragon Lord. "I've had my fair share of tall sounding tales that I needed to make the world believe, it is only just that I - for now at least - trust in yours. Not least because Taisper vouches for your veracity. ...though even if you believe the truth of your own words, we do not know the reality of what happened. Whether you're indeed dis-entimed, or victim of an elaborate illusion or, perhaps, a pawn in the game of the gods. But, what is important then is that you are here now, and we welcome you to this new old Sanctuary. Please. Please join us and be part of the wall that keeps Choral at bay."
"Is there somebody who's well-being you wish to foster, now that you're... now...? A mother, or sibling? Perhaps even your younger self?"
"Yes, I should like to know more about all of this myself in prudent caution, at least before we all bundle up and tell campfire stories to each other," announces Verik with a stony voice as he descends from the side stairwell opposite from Nikolai. He has two young clerks in tow behind him, but all three are surprisingly armed and have a hand on their respective weapons. Behind the clerks in the shadows is what appears to be some small boy in castle livery, doing his best to not be seen.
With a look towards the shirtless Nikolai and his blade Dragonsbreath before him on the far side stairway, Verik scans the room quickly once again but adds with scarcely veiled irritation, "And stop this 'Queen' business. That may have been necessary for the Nomen to understand matters they could not otherwise fathom, but in truth Newhaven has no Queen, and the people are not 'ruled' by a misguided and archaic monarchy. She is the Lady Marshal, or First Founder if you prefer."
Willas sees Nikolai come into the room and noticeably blanches. The sight of the massive warrior, so little removed from seeing the same man (two decades removed) slaughter great warriors with ease, unnerves him immediately. He trembles as Nikolai speaks, hand drifting back to the pommel of his rapier.
Elsir notices his friend and puts a hand up in warning. "This is not the same man we just saw, no more than this is the same woman we saw in battle with him. Nikolai has not yet betrayed Newhaven, and there is no certainty that he will. That future was a possibility, not a guarantee. But I warn all those who have seen the future - Borodin, especially - from divulging too much information about it. There are many known cases of prophecies being fulfilled by an overly aggressive attempt to avoid them. It is our duty to guide the development of this new timeline, but only in an organic and natural way."
At the sight of the towering barbarian entering the hall Borodin starts to move into a fighting stance but just as quickly masks the motion by seemingly adjusting his gear. Most in the room would have missed the motion, but Jemini can see Borodin's eyes narrow slightly, in wary anticipation.
His gaze goes to Verik next and Jemini can see Borodin's tension subside. He looks back to her, answering her question.
"No mam, I have no wish to return home. There are too many wounds I would not wish re-opened."
"Betrayed Newhaven?" Nikolai crosses the room in two strides, stopping short of imposing a true threat. "I have never stopped a man from raising his tongue, but accusing me of treachery against those who showed me mercy and friendship may be the math to my first. I'll hear no talk of betrayal on my part, elf."
He looks over to Jemini, and up to Verik. "We'll talk about the Queen business ;ater. But when any emissary first meets you, they recognize Newhaven by recognizing you, Your Grace. I'll hear it no other way. When they ride and bleed with you, they can call you whatever you allow."
He takes a slower step toward
He takes a slower step toward the three newcomers, settling his gaze on Willas. "Calm yourself, man. I tell you, you are in no danger here."
Verik looks back at Nikolai with a scowl and slight shake to his head, though a moment later he silently mouths Your Grace as if mulling over the honorific, finally pursing his lips and nodding to himself as if liking the sound of it.
Hearing talk of betrayal seems to snap him out of his current line of thinking, looking over the newcomers with yet a more critical eye. When he sees Willas his tone-of-voice takes more urgency. "Willas Gunderson, you are injured!" He takes several steps forward towards where Taisper stands, though wary of the newcomers that he does not yet know. "I shall bring healing energy to stem it and any injuries of your fellows here, and then we can see you to more precise healing later."
"In a sense, from what I witnessed, these men have fought and bled with us. I do not understand all I saw, but their loyalty is to Newhaven."
"I would say that Willas is uneasy because you have charged in here with your flaming sword drawn threatening violence. So it is somewhat contradictory for you to tell him to be calm."
Borodin looks as shocked as those around him as he realizes he said that last out loud.
Really smooth Borodin! Trying to start another fight? Calm yourself man!
He looks again at Jemini and gives a slight bow. "Please forgive my rash words. It has been a trying day for the three of us. It may be better if I could retire for a few hours as I don't think I am very good company at the moment."
Not sure of what else to do, he stands across from the Queen of Newhaven waiting for a response.
"I'm afraid not, not yet at least - there is too much that needs discussing, and you'll have to be part of that," Jemini tells Borodin, "but, if its any consolation, we don't need to do so without refreshments. I'm not sure if you could be familiar with Bokken's finest - but I'm sure you'll quickly gather to appreciate it."
"Taisper, zuo bict zuonlelhb ic awnelelselcy fiyr yrel ynoyr ub yrellel vhaisl, act yrel selacl pz frivr yrel yniu rajel nelyoncelt il cuy bnaowry fiyr telvelqyiuc un saheljuhelcvel yufantl uon rusel, tellqiyel yrel olel ub felaqucl?"
With the intense look of his cousin and slight nod as his only reply, Verik ponders the trio before him and then turns to Zander at the table. "And you vouch for their intentions as well Zander? From what you witnessed I heard you say? I have known you long enough to know you do not give your assurances lightly. I have powers to verify the veracity of any claim for a brief time if necessary, but..." Verik holds his hands aloft in a show that he accepts Taisper and Zander's words on the topic.