link 1
His voice is tired and soulless, but he remains at attention. "I appreciate your generosity. I welcome some time doing nothing but physical labor. My redemption... must come from a higher source. If I may, sir... I understand you have slain Nugrah? That is good. My family might find some peace in that news... once word reaches Avendale. That is.. I assume they have not moved on... "
link 2
"Many years ago, my father's aunt was to wed a man who had saved her life. At the time Nugrah was known as the Jackdaw Prince. He had forged an accord between the followers of Erastil, and the fractured factions of the Green Faith to unify against the malevolent fey menace. My family was quite wealthy, a house of considerable power in Touvette. My great-grandfather chartered this land for their wedding from the Outlaw Council of the River Kingdoms.
My father's aunt, Doreesa... died giving birth. I know now, that child became the Stag Lord. Nugrah went mad, called down lightning and killed everyone who came to grieve. There were several attempts by my family... directly and through mercenaries, to bring him to justice. All who have attempted either turned up nothing, or turned up dead. Since then, politics in Touvette have changed. My family backed the wrong horse, and their wealth has been seized by the Usurper General.
I came here to find Nugrah. I had heard someone was recruiting mercenaries at this fort, and volunteered incognito. My methods for ridding the fort of its defenses were deplorable. I have strayed from my faith for revenge, and failed even so."
link 3
"Satisfy? ... maybe not, but it is over nonetheless. Yes... the old madman, Nugrah. No I do not expect any to return soon... assuming you have dealt with those who were sent to the bluecloaks. Some were sent to the Bloodbands, some were sent to find the hidden ironwood grove in the Narlmarches... The Stag Lord was impressed with the living steel items he had taken from his father's spoils, and was driven to discover a plentiful source. They... are most likely dead from the protectors of the wood."
link 4
With the talk of his faith, Akiros gets the look as if someone had walked in on an unclothed examination by a doctor. "I would prefer no further discussion of my faith. The ironwood grove surrounds a statue of Erastil... it is said to be hidden by its woodland protectors. The Stag Lord mentioned there was an orc settlement near there which his father had razed looking for it."
"Regarding what is to be done with myself, Ser Ambrosi here has accepted my offer to do manual labor toward rebuilding this fort." He faces Norton again at full attention. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
Sonechka cocked her head to one side as she looked at Akiros, looking not unlike a bird with her intense, ghostly eyes focused on the one-time bandit. "A long trip, all the way from Avendale. Did your uncle and cousin have a pleasant journey?"
"Not entirely unpleasant according to Lord Fievri. He was not inclined to go into further detail... neither upon matters regarding his well-being nor that of my other kin. He did remark surprise upon seeing I was 'still alive', but has not yet seen fit to display any manner of warmth toward my person."
"They were quite pleased to reaquaint with the elders of the Broadhammer clan you have in residence, however. It was good to witness a brightness upon his typically dour visage." He smiles with a serene acceptance. "That alone is enough for me."
"So...they merely wanted to sort of get confirmation that the man was really dead and the fortress cleared out?
Forgive me if I am perhaps just a little sceptical, I've found that people are most often more complex than that."
Sonechka nods slowly at Akiros's answer. "Yes, the Broadhammers and Ashmoors have been associates for generations." Her people had briefed her on the kingdom's people of interest and the Iobarian witch rarely forgot.
She indicated Green with a small gesture of her hand. "But he did not come to see them, you said, he came to see the site once word reached Avendale that the Jackdaw Prince was dead. This is... a delicate subject, given your good service here in the time since Nugrah's death, but it must be asked. Do you believe your uncle intends to renew the Ashmoors' claim to this land, based on your great-grandfather's charter?"
He snaps at Green straight off. "If you are suggesting an ulterior motive to their wish to see the end of a wicked wicked man..."
He offsets his jaw and his eyes light with a spark of unwarranted ire.
"Well forgive me, My Lord, but like disparagings could be voiced toward those too quick to bear idle skepticism...."
He nods in understanding after Sonechka's question, then shakes his head with a quick puff of a snort. "Ah... I see. I would grant it may be best to inquire upon this matter with Lord Fievri himself on the morrow, m'lady."
The Green Man shrugs a little accepting the criticism in good humour but at the same time knowing that it is not build on anything but his pretty good knowledge of the nature of man.
"Perhaps, perhaps not, either way, it seems like we will have to wait until the morning to find out.
But I will say that lord Fievri may regret coming here once he learns of what is to come.
There is a LOT of fighting yet to come."
The leather armour creaks a bit as the Green Man flexes his arms to underscore his point.
"I intend to live to see the end of it and at least see the start of the future I envision."
Green's good humor seems to sap fuel from the man's fire. With some apparent regret to his behavior yet unwillingness to concede completely, he looks downward. "Very good, then. Will that be all, m'lords, m'lady...."
Sonechka nods, in what could have generously been called a gesture of regret. "It seems I insisted on dragging you out of your bed for nothing, then, Akiros. My apologies."
Akiros nods, and leaves.
Meanwhile Barndoor follows Furiel up from the depths - passing by - spinning and dancing toward his new digs.
"Ahh... clean fresh air such a beautiful sight.
And m'lady Sonechka. Looking lovely tonight.
He stops to bow deeply....
Lead on, good General I can barely control
My jiggling joy to be out of that hole!"
"Mmph...I still have something to learn of being a leader, but at least it did not escalate.
I will just have to remember what I learned tonight and apply it in the morning.
But, let us go to bed now, a lot of the night is already gone, and we have a lot to do yet."
"We definitely need to present a unified front in tomorrow's meetings. If Lord Fievri means malice tomorrow we should be prepared. Same if he offers friendship. But for this evening, my plans involve supper and some cold drinks. Anyone with me?"
"So good general about my new station,
I'm willing of course to provide information,
But there is one thing I'd to make clear,
Do I go out and find fey or do I stay here?"
"My knowledge of what may lie out in the wood
Is better than most, but still not that good.
I can wrack my brain to fill a few pages,
But walking the wood might be more advantageous."
Furiel shows Barndoor around what will soon be his magic tower and is careful to introduce him to Kesten and the builders to make it clear Barndoor is now the Chief Emissary to the Fey Court. With plenty of room in his wing, he makes sure Barndoor has his own room near his bedroom.
Furiel responds in rhyme:
"Our way around here tends to the informal,
you will find you have more latitude than normal.
Your task is to improve knowledge of and standing with the fey,
as to the how of it you are free to choose your own way!!"
He also tells Barndoor of the walk that he will be partaking in on behalf of his former mistress. "I like to think of it as a grand nature walk."
Furiel points to the greenhouse under construction with the expansive windows with basins for baths with the collected waters.
"Barndoor, you may be able to help me grow plants and herbs. With out druid gone, I may need some help."
Not having seen Norton around lately, Furiel drafts up diplomatic credentials and papers and makes sure that Barndoor has quality clothes tailored to his size.
Furiel pops up from the armory with three enchanted weapons for Barndoor to choose from.
One is a feybane warhammer, one is a heartseeker sword, and the other is a light hammer (shocking).
"You will need to be armed, as you may find yourself in danger. I have found a good selection of weapons for you to choose from."
Barndoor looks impressed. His eyes glow as his arcane sight manifests... He then looks very impressed...
"If I'd known it were weapons.. you'd gone after, my Lord,
To be blunt I'm keen wielding neither.. not hammer nor sword."
He conjures a dagger made of ice....
"My dagger - on the other hand, comes quite natural to me.
But to the extent of the offer, the gift's not lost on me."
"Some say safety comes part and parcel from numbers
I posit this more often multiplies blunders
That said, I've heard rumors regarding a gnome,
Who lives and breathes travel and makes nature his home."
"Have not seen him of late, but I think he's about,
With he by my side we'd do well. I've no doubt."
The whole time Norton had been away from Stagfall he had planned to come back and talk to Nithscada, but right now, after the long hours on saddle he feels to tired to engage in a conversation with the prisoner. "Tomorrow, I should really work to get many things done."
Dolgrym will have some ale and food with the builder dwarves before turning in for the night.
Morning comes.
The Broadhammers at the near end of the build site cheer when they see Dolgrym again, and laugh about some half-recalled incident from the night before.
You see Barndoor finely dressed in a long asymmetrical toga, chatting with a couple giggling girls selling flowers from a cart.
On the far side of the build site, the Ashmoor carriages provide shade from the morning sun to a few figures under a pavilion tent. Two of the Broadhammer dwarves are speaking with an elder fellow seated in an litter - and another in attendance (likely Lord Fievri and son Weidfer). Six house guards in laundered and polished armor are posted around the area upon which the Ashmoors are camped.
Hmmm, should we meet with the Ashmoors before my speech or not? I will wait to hear the opinions of the others and see what they think.
Having decided that, The Green Man makes sure to take a leisurely breakfast, to give the late risers plenty of time to join him at the table.
Sonechka enters the meal (tent? room?) a few minutes after Green, her black feathered cloak concealing her body from shoulder to toe. She gives the soon-to-be king a familiar nod as she sits, not across from the enormous barbarian but next to him. "Good morning. Did you have a pleasant evening?"
"I suggest greeting our visitors before you address the town, Green. If they are insulted, then their mood could certainly worsen."
Norton reaches the others for breakfast. "I think we should invite our highborn guest over breakfast. For what I reckon there is no need to talk of business right from the start, whe can share a meal and get acquainted with small talk. There will be time for more formal matters later on."
"I can get them if you agree."
"Before you do that, I have something to discuss that is... not for the ears of outsiders. Two things, in fact, but the first is more sensitive than the other."
After making sure none but council members are close enough to hear, she goes on. "My little birds believe Kinsilvi is turning captured kobolds into weaponized disease carriers. He is a danger to us, our people, and the future existence of this kingdom. I would like to sanction his... removal. If you do not want my little birds to do so, I believe we should see to it ourselves."
"The second matter is not as dire as the first, but could be just as dangerous in the long term. There is grumbling among the people about our ability to effectively lead this kingdom. I would not normally bring such doubts up in this fashion, but many of the complaints are too similar to have occurred independently. Someone has coached the grumblers, someone who wants to remain hidden. Someone is working against us in secret, using our own populace as her weapon. I might have saved this until later today, but it is possible some might care to voice their complaints during your speech later, Green."
The Green man listens intently as Sonechka outline her news, and as she explain Kinsilvi's plan his hand slam down on the table with enough force to make the cutlery jump.
"That black hearted bastard! I've been looking for an excuse to remove him, and now I am proven right in my instincts not to trust him!
That is a despicable plan on so many levels."
He then calms down enough to listen to the second piece of news.
"So we already have an agitator amongst us?
Think they might be working for the foul king? He would be the most logical one to benefit if Stagfall turns into anarchy at this point, but I suppose there might be other hidden agendas as well."
"So, it will be a good thing that the rest of you will be here to help me with the speech.
I will speak from the heart, to try and draw the people in, but if agitators turns sly and insulting, I think someone with more skill at courtly talk should step in, that will be you Ser Ambrosi of course.
But I suspect that we may all have to speak if things comes to that."
Sonechka nods. "That sounds like a good plan in case of agitators in the crowd. I will hold back on sanctioning the man for now. We can discuss the matter more later today."
"Kinsilvi doesn't collect the agreements of nobody here, we are very eager to see his claims over the land fall. We will need proof, but once we have it, that problem will be sorted."
"I suspect we will find a great deal of proof if we confront the man directly, and in strength."
"Agreed, I think the time for subtlety Is over now, the knife will be put away and the hammer brought forth.
Still, one thing at the time yes?
So, do anyone else have something they want to share or shall we see about meeting the Ashmoors next?"
"I believe it is time to put on our pleasant faces and greet the nobles visiting."
"Or at least invite them to breakfast. A formal greeting may have to wait until everyone has shaken the sleep from their eyes."
"Yes, besides, if we meet them in an informal setting like this, we may be able to take them by surprise and see more of them than they may have been prepared to share."
The Green Man taps the side of his nose and winks.
In attendance for the conversation, Kesten simply asks "Shall I?"
"Yes, please go ahead and make the invitation, let us get this over with."
"Maybe next time we have visitors we will have a more suitable place to receive them in."
"Well, we run a two step plan. We formally move into his estate in force and 'survey and assess' his holdings. We declare he needs to present his papers to Stagefall for acceptance. This should drive him from his support base and let Sonechka and her agents sweep him up or do something more drastic."
Furiel gets Kester and writes up a set of clear orders to do just that.
Lord Fievri's guard bears the old man by litter to the VIP breakfasting pavilion tent. They prepare comfortable seating while he hobbles to the table with his son's assistance.
His expression is of extreme focus, and does not even acknowledge you until he is properly seated.
Weidfer the son is thick-necked and pudgy (like a strongman who'd "let himself go") with coarse dark locks barely contained by hair grease and tie.
Lord Fievri shifts in his seat until comfortable, sighs, then looks up to you with a sufficiently content smile. He flits his hand to wave off his guards as Weidfer unrolls a linen with their own fine cutlery.
Lord Fievri then speaks - sitting deep in his chair and the stiff, high, and tight collar, he looks as if strapped to the chairback.
"A fine morning to you, m'lords, milady. Take no offense if I do not linger on idle chatter. It is only to be sure my presence bears no misrepresentation or inference of impropriety. Any informal meeting with things as they are carries that danger...."
Weidfer moves over to Spitch Fowler the cook to advise him on what the Lord Fievri is to be served.
The Green Man scratches his chin in an effort to hide his mouth long enough to sneer in irritation.
Already putting on airs, but it's too early to judge so I will hold my peace.
Not yet sure were the Lords is headed Norton engages him in the talking.
"So mylord, I heard your families has deep roots here. I understand that is quite an intense one."
Sonechka had watched the others carefully, particularly Green, as Lord Fievri and his son entered. Following their lead, she had not risen from her seat. She nods in Norton's direction, indicating her comment was meant to reference his. "Things as they are, Lord Fievri?"
The Green Man lifts an eyebrow, at first a little unsure of what exactly is being said, then the words begins to percolate in his mind.
Hmmmm, if I remember correctly, the Swordlords are not that keen on the Dragonthrone in the first place...so what's being said here is "If it becomes a civil war, don't take sides or we'll make sure you lose your legal claims in the end."
Drumming his fingers on the table top, The Green Man considers trying to play up on his looks and what he has grown accustom to those looks saying to people in power.
Well, I MIGHT do that, but let's see if the brains cannot make him spil more first.
"What reasons have been discovered that call into question the Restov official's motivations? That card needs to be placed on the table for us to respond properly."
Sonechka shakes her head, a vaguely impatient look on her face. "The Swordlords of Restov and the Dragonscale Throne have found themselves at odds since the day when Choral conquered Rostland. The Surtovas would look three times at a wreath sent on Harvest Feast, if the Swordlords sent it. Of course the throne would be suspicious of their motives here in the Stolen Lands." She didn't sound like it concerned her very much or that it was any sort of secret knowledge.
"Is your word is the word from New Stetven, Lord Fievri? I must have been mistaken in thinking you were a representative of Avendale here." She glances over at Akiros for a moment before continuing. "And who might House Surtova consider more prepared to rule this kingdom?"
Sonechka shakes her head and gives a significant glance in Green's direction. "I am not the one who you need worry about offending with that particular suggestion, Lord Fievri."
"Politics, we are not exempt by it neither in the wilderness. I can imagine what my friends here will answer in regards. But I wonder if, right now, when there is still little to rule, and a lot to fight, an official regent could be dealt more easily and by us some time."