Vallen doesn't leave the cloud of smoke slowly dissipating around him. He still has a hand on his belt pouch, ready to load another alchemical cartride into his pistol. "We can butcher it here, aye, and haul the meat to the fort on a covered sled. Just... make sure it's dead first. Did you see the way it loked at us? I've never seen an animal with such.. hatred in it."
Jenya grins and takes out her dagger Yup, I think we can take care of it here. It's a big one though so the more helping hands the better. I guess we take the head again fer proof of the deed?
"Definitely not wasting this one," Cassandra says taking out a knife. She took another look at the beast and then at her measly knife and wondered if a sword would not be more appropriate. The thing was as big as a horse. "This is going to take a bit."
After it is clear the boar is no longer a threat, Vallen holsters his pistol and moves towards the beast. "Hmm... I'll work on lifting this porker up so we can properly drain it." The dwarf comments, stroking his beard in thought.
He whips out his Traveler's Anytool, folding it into a block and tackle. In the background the priest can be seen busing himself- finding a sturdy enough tree to support the beast's weight, animating a silk rope to snake its way up the tree, securing the tackle, and preparing to hoist the boar up for draining.
"I'm afraid I haven't much experience with butchering game," Alexei apologizes as the operation sets into full swing, "but I can start a fire so that we can all enjoy a meal of fresh meat. That'll be a nice change from the trail rations. Korinne, perhaps you'd like to join me? It would be safer to gather wood as a pair rather than risk one of us getting lost or running into trouble alone."
You're a handy dwarf to have around Vallen Jenya comments as they haul the boar up leg first to leave it hanging head down. A nice cut on the jugular and the we can start on the hide....
After some discussion you decide to spend some time prepping Tuskgutter for his final journey to someone's guts. Hatch reminds you that the bounty specifies that the boat will be made into head cheese, so the head needs to be intact. You do your best to butcher and smoke the immense boar, which takes the rest of the day.
As the explorers sit around the fire enjoying the fruits of the day's labor Alexei looks thoughtfully at the pile of meat and remarks, "it would be a sad loss if anything happened to all this good meat... and it's probably not wise to carry it while exploring, who knows what kind of predators it could attract. Perhaps we should head back to the fort, or to Oleg's, to drop off the food and maybe turn in some of the bounties we've secured?"
Jenya nods Yeah, don't particularly feel like carting around so much meat when we're delving into the wilderness. Let's get back to the trading post before we come back here. The region's definitely safer than it was before 'cause of our work
Vallen sits by the fire, slowly chipping away at the figurine that has become his pet project. "ye, let's go back and resupply. I need to order some things and send a letter. The sooner House Garess knows about the gold mine we found, the better. Ah, it will be good to hear the songs of working dwarfs again. They're considered holy hymns to Torag, you know. On top of that, this place could use a good dwarven tavern, though they would have to import their drinks until there is some farmland around here."
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"Dwarven taverns are very similar to human ones except the doors are wider and the ceilings are lower," Alexei jokes.
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Vallen opens his mouth to answer Korinne, only to be intercepted by Alexei's joke. "Wha-? No no no, it's more about-" He stops, hands halted in front of him in the beginning of a series of punctuated gestures. "Oh, that was a joke." The dwarf chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.
"Ah, well, you see... it's the atmosphere. Humans go to taverns to relax after a hard day's work. Dwarfs are different- the Forge-Father blessed us with the capacity for incredible industry, and excessive idleness is a sin. Most dwarfs are really only "relaxing" when they're sleeping. So in a dwarf tavern, all the miners and craftsdwarfs and soldiers aren't really relaxing. They're discussing plans, trading stories of our rich history or honoring our ancestors, collaborating with peers... It's social work, and the tavern is the heart of it. Just as a carpenter has their workbench, dwarf society has taverns to facilitate the crafting beautiful relationships."
He smiles, and admits with a jovial chuckle. "That's not to say we can't appreciate the finer things in life. Pleasure takes the form of fine ales and food at a tavern, or maybe a game of strategy like Dwarven Defenders or Towers and Time. But these are merely the vehicles for which bonding or discussions are carried."
Vallen strokes his beard for a moment, puzzling over something. "Though I may have generated more grudges than goodwill over Towers and Time. It's a bit of a specialty of mine and I'm not prone to defeat... Some dwarfs are very sore losers, unfortunately, especially after the tenth flagon or so."
Alexei raises his hands and spreads them grandiosely, as if framing a large sign, and offers, "The Maiden's Beard!"
Aww, I always heard dwarves had the best drinking songs. You're telling that me that ain't true Vallen? It's all building plans and figures and discussions of different metals?
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Vallen dismissively waves off Alexei's suggestion. "Yes yes very funny... You humans always have such a wit about you. But Korinne is right, it would need something that really captures the spirit of what it is to be a dwarf mining gold in the middle of the wilderness. It's not my place to name this non-existant tavern, but I feel Glitterdust or perhaps Cup of Luck would be more appropriate."
The priest turns his head to Jenya, moustache giving a twitch in thought. "Ech, well.. All right, there are quite a lot of drinking songs. If you can call them "songs". It's more reminiscent of a rowdy badger repeatedly squeezing a bagpipe full of beer. But still! It's all about bonding, and coming together to share tradition."
Discussion continues as you settle in for sleep, then you set out to return to Oleg's.
The first thing that Cassandra reports as you close in on the trading post is the smell. There are a lot of people there - far more than the small garrison and Oleg and his wife. Cassandra's nose wrinkles involuntarily as she catches the scent of refuse and fire-pits.
As you get closer you see white smoke - cook-fires. The palisade walls of the trading post rise on the horizon, and then dotted all around it are small tents made of burlap. Some are brown, some are beige, some are many-colored. People are moving about and bustling activity surrounds the fortress.
Over the scattered encampment of tents is a flapping flag of a black eagle with wings spread in front of a field of gold. (Note: The link goes to the page about the owners of the flag; the picture on that page is wrong.)
"Those are the banners of House Orlovsky, my kin," Alexei informs his associates with a sense of mingled pride and confusion. "What are they doing here now, though, I wonder?"
here to claim some of the new territory, no doubt... it is my house and I must honor that but if our work here is to help stabilize the homeland and bring peace then we must be careful not to enlarge the house so greatly that it emboldens the leadership to try to seize greater power at home...
"Come, let us ask what brings them," he invites those with him as he spurs his horse towards the camp. Once they arrive he looks quickly for the most important person nearby and offers, "I am Alexei of House Orlovsky, charter member of this expedition. Who is in charge here and where might I find him?"
Vallen looks over the assorted tents, a frown growing on his face. "I thought I'd be happy to see more humans, but something about this rubs me the wrong way. I was expecting homesteaders and farmers, why does this feel like a military camp?" The dwarf grumbles, seeming to fall into a melancholic pessimism.
Jenya shrugs I thought we were just going to explore and clear out the bandits. That's pretty much done, right?
As they ride towards the tents Alexei answers Vallen and Jenya, "Well, once the bandits and other threats have been cleared out there will be the work of repairing the fort, and building mines and taverns, and establishing new settlements and trade routes... so the job is really just beginning. I do... appreciate Vallen's concern though. I also expected that the early settlers would be small groups of homesteaders and the like. A major house, though, will have the resources to develop areas much more quickly; we'll just have to make sure that such development doesn't become disruptive of what we're trying to accomplish here, or dangerous back home..."
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Cassandra ignored most of the banter going on around her out of necessity. One look at the boars massive size and she saw a challenge presented to her. A fur coat that large could be cut into several smaller pieces. Cassandra wanted to do it in one though. One massive, perfect piece. With great focus she made her cuts slowly and precisely. Peel and cut. Peel and cut. On and on she went for the rest of the afternoon until finally she had a skin capable of covering the entire floor of a decent sized bedroom. Perfect.
A few days in the woods and sometimes you forget what civilization smells like. You become used to certain smells and forget others. Cassandra recoiled visibly from the many scents emanating from Oleg's. Her steps forward were hesitant, both from the smell and the large gathering of people. For the first time in a while, she put her hood back up to hide here white hair and wild features. She gripped her bow nervously as they proceeded through the camp. Why in the world were so many people here?
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Oh I dunno. I'm thinking he might be loving the extra business. Jenya grins It feels a bit like Jovvox here. 'cept fewer explosions and stuff.
As you approach, one of the soldiers on the palisade wall - one of Kesten Garess's men - shouts down to into the fort below. You spot people involved in cooking, talking, and even a few traveling tradesfolk - a cobbler seated at a stool in front of one tent mending boots, a woodworker carving out a new chair leg. Among the tents you also spy several pack mules and wagons.
Oleg emerges from the front gate and waves to you, but Auric comes out on horseback and rides up to join you. He is met along the way by another woman you don't know, also mounted, who comes from the camp.
"My lord," says Auric. "These settlers have arrived with more news from the north."
The woman says, "My name is Kiely Crowfarron. I've come at the behest of the Swordlords of Restov. Lord Orlovsky, we have important news for the charter group here. But first, I must confirm: is it true? Is the Stag Lord defeated?"
Vallen eyes the woman named Kiely with a hint of suspicion, as if blaming her for the sudden influx of all these soldiers. This better not turn into some territory dispute... I'm here to build a capital city, not get involved in human politics or watch humans butcher each other.
Kiely, incidentally, is a human woman with brown hair cut to shoulder length. You'd estimate that she's probably in her 30s, with some crow's feet at the edge of her brown eyes and premature gray along the hairline by her ears. She appears fit and skilled in the saddle. She wears a tabard with the livery of Restov over a mail shirt.
Auric says to the team, "We have conferred and I have determined that there is no malice in her motives," which you think is probably a coded way of saying that she doesn't detect as evil, "though of course she is simply the messenger for her lords."
Whoah, you guys are real formal when you want to be. My name's Jenya.
Cassandra wished to stay quiet and out of focus. But from the murmurs about her, she realized that was impossible. She carried the StagLord's helm and others were beginning to notice. She steps a few paces forward but still behind Alexei. She holds it out for the woman to inspect. "Helm of the StagLord. It is actually blessed by Erastil so I decided to keep it." Cassandra keeps her head slightly lowered to shadow her face as much as possible.
Kiely says to Jenya, "Good day to you, Jenya. You are the traveler from Alkenstar, yes?" She turns in her saddle to regard the helm of Erastil that Cassandra wears, then nods curtly. "A body would be better, but under the circumstances this should be satisfactory." She reaches one leather-gloved hand into her saddlebags and retrieves a rolled-up scroll with a wax seal on it, then holds it out.
Once broken open, the scroll says:
"Be it so known that the bearers of this charter, having delivered the northern reaches of the Greenbelt from the scourge of banditry, having provided detailed maps of the lay of the land, and having done no small amount of work in the exploration of said land and the culling of hostile monsters and indigenous hazards, are hereby granted the right to rule. The nature and laws of rule are theirs to define, and the wellbeing of this new nation is theirs to protect. In accordance for providing a stable nation to the south of central Rostland, let there be a generous stipend of funds, support, and advice provided to this fledgling nation as a token of Restov and Brevoy’s goodwill, such that future relations between kingdoms might be mutually beneficial.
So witnessed under the watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and by the authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne."
Kiely clears her throat after you have a chance to read the document, then says, "To be honest, the politics of why the Dragonscale Throne would establish a new, separate kingdom are beyond me, but the orders are clear. The Swordlords have donated no small amount of resources so that you might establish a new township and, hopefully, from there stabilize and pacify these lands. House Orlovsky has also backed this venture with men and material, as has House Garess. It is a rare show of cooperation between the various Houses of Brevoy."
Auric says, "I have spoken with many of the people here and most of them are journeyman craftspeople, younger landless folk eager to make homes for themselves, and the occasional traveler, itinerant, or tinker. They have been sent with supplies under the banner of Brevoy to settle a new encampment and build a village at a place of your choosing."
Jenya scratches her head at the proclamation. It seemed like the formality was for a very good reason. Huh, seems like you all got a heckuva promotion
Well this was...honestly Cassandra had no idea what this was. She had not expected something like this so quickly and to this extent. The document said they, her and her companions, would rule here. Rule. She didn't know the first thing about ruling. Did any of them? One happy thought did niggle at the back of her mind though. She would be in a great position to negotiate the relocation of her village and help with the obvious tension that would arise from a village of monsters nearby. But first things first. "So, uh, what do we do now?"
Kiely says, "I would recommend sending back a letter to Restov to let them know that you are undertaking this task with all due seriousness. Then these people need to know where they are going to live. My understanding is that the Swordlords put out a call for settlers, which naturally attracted some poor folk and some folk from large farm families who did not have enough land to support all of their siblings, and they are eager to establish new homesteads. Houses Garess and Orlovsky delegated journeymen from various trades as well, as these journeymen and women need to earn their mastery and there are precious little opportunities for advancement among the guilds of the cities, where competition is fierce."
Hatch says, "We better talk to Oleg. He's probably pullin' his hair out, with all these people around."
Kiely continues, "While this is a project funded in part by Brevoy, you do have a great deal of leeway. Some settlers may assume that the laws of Brevoy apply in this fledgling settlement. Others may assume that as these lands are the River Kingdoms, they will abide by the 'rules' attributed to these parts - might makes right. You will want to move quickly to establish what will and won't be tolerated."
"You have established something of a reputation as dependable folk who can deal with the likes of bandits and monsters, so these settlers will look to you for protection," Kiely continues. "Responsibility now rests squarely on your shoulders."
Vallen stares at Kiely, processing the words of the document. "The right to rule?! I'm an architect, not some gold-bangled noble. This... Look, my loyalty is first and foremost to Torag, and then, well, politically speaking, to High King Borogrim the Hale. I'm on loan to House Garess, who is sponsoring me, because of my skills at building. You have to understand I can't rule anything behind the back of the High King and the Gathering Council in Highhelm. We have very clear rules on Dwarf Lords and their subjects, and I'm no royal bloodline. My family are merchants! Taking a public office with the possibility it could be interpreted as the will of the High King is unacceptable, maybe treasonous, without his blessing." Vallen frets, his speech increasing rapidly throughout the panicked moment.
It looks like his sky-blue eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, his moustache is frazzled in excitement, and his assortment of rings and metal all jingle as he stirs up his horse to move. "This is all happening too fast. You humans are always in such a hurry, all the time... I have letters to send, many letters, and plans to make, oh Torag I don't have any surveying at all started why have you sprung this on me, Forge-Father? No, I am sorry, it's the humans, I know, they do not understand your Grand Strategy and its need for careful deliberation, roads yes roads and farms..." He canters out of hearing range on his horse in a fuss.
Ah ease up Vallen, I'm sure if you're just an advisor or something folks won't mind. Jenya grins at the frazzled dwarf.
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Vallen finds a table, rubbing a hand through his hair and starting to partially calm down from the realization he was going to have to be responsible for more than just which hill everyone's excrement will be flowing down. I can't believe this. I just wanted to build a city. A work of above-ground art in your honor, Torag. Something unique, never before seen.
He sighs and sits down, putting a parchment down and holding the ends steady with various nick-knacks. He stares at the paper for a long moment, not even sure what to say. Well. The letter to House Garess will be the easiest. I'll start with that first.
He puts pen nub to paper and writes in Taldan- the dwarf's script is clear and effortlessly flowing cursive. So different from the runic language of Dwarven but beautiful in its own way.
Lord Howlan Garess
Torag's warm fires glow within these lands, and through both His and your wisdom my purpose becomes clearer. I have seen what the humans cannot- the Forge-father has blessed a cave in this region with bountiful, if difficult to extract, veins of quartz-gold.
I humbly request a contingent of fine Dwarf miners, orechemists, smelters, and laydwarfs from Greyhaven or elsewhere to accept Torag's offering and tease the golden gift from the earth. Fortune-seeking humans are of course welcome, but I must warn of the difficulty of extracting gold from quartz is a laborious and dangerous process for the most hardy of Dwarfs.
I intend to establish a settlement around this mine; an above-ground stronghold of Dwarf culture and industry, flying the Garess flag. The gold mined from here will benefit the House, the Dwarfs, and the burgeoning kingdom to be realized here.
I have included a quartz-gold sample for study with this letter and urge your consideration in patronizing this matter.
By the Grace of Torag's Glowing Hearth,
Vallen Silverclasp
Thick, stubby fingers fold the paper and set it aside, placing the shining piece of quartz-laden gold he took from the mine on top of it. Everyone can benefit from this mine if it is handled properly. These humans could stand to have some more of Torag's children around to advise them in any case.
Out comes the second parchment, and he sucks in a nervous breath. Addressing this to the High King himself would be presumptuous... I should send it to priests at the Forge of Torag so they can seek approval in my name.
This letter he writes in perfect runic script, each symbol bearing the weight of centuries of culture and tradition that demand precise pencraft so as to convey the correct connotations.
Representatives of the High Priests,
I, Vallen Silverclasp, thrice-ringed, silver-symboled, ordained cleric of Torag ask for the legal advice of Torag's chosen and humbly request the transmission of rulership permission to the High King if so advised.
I have been offered a chance to rule in a burgeoning human kingdom alongside my duties as an architect while representing the Brevy House of Garess. The High King and his Council loaned me to the House Garess as recognition to their long and oreful relationship with the dwarfs of the Golka Clan before their disappearance some years ago. I was sent to advise the settlement of some lands outside of Brevoy, but now the Dragonscale Throne has decided this region should be a separate and autonomous region. The Swordlords have offered myself and a group of humans leadership of this area, but my political loyalty remains to the High King. I wish to help these humans, for it is obvious that the happenstance of me being here at this very moment is part of Torag's Grand Strategy. I trust His guidance in placing me here and I shall see to it these humans are guided according to His principles.
As such, I humbly ask for your advice in approaching this matter, and if appropriate, for the High King's permission to become a representative and stakeholder in this new kingdom.
By the Grace of Torag's Glowing Hearth, the Wisdom of our Ancestors, and the Strength of our Steel,
Vallen Silverclasp
Vallen sighs and places the second letter to the side, holding his head in his hands. Well, worst case scenario he says no and I go on being an architect, right? It's not that big of a deal Vallen, just the fate of an entirely new political entity in a land full of sentient creatures stabbing each other over whose loaf of bread is bigger or whatnot.
Sluggishly, he puts away his writing materials, picks up the letters, and has them sent off to House Garess, and the Forge of Torag in Highhelm, respectively.
Cassandra was beginning to feel over loaded the more Kiely talked. Laws. Politics. Houses. Hell, what would they even name it the city? The Kingdom? What would be the laws? She'd heard of the Six River Freedoms but one of them was just mean. You have what you hold. That completely legitimized the Staglord and that was not right. Eyes wide and body tense, Cassandra latched on to what Vallen said. "Oh. I need to write a letter too."
Then she remembers what Hatch said. "Yes, Oleg. Meeting. Lots to plan. Lots." She drags out the last word in a sullen tone. Where do they even start? Kiely gave them some ideas but how do you start those? Cassandra was having a hard time seeing the little picture, too wrapped up in the scale of this endevour.
Dear Jessica,
We have taken a big step forward in realizing our dream. It's so close I can almost touch it. And yet, I never realized how much more difficult the work would be the closer we got. Its almost overwhelming. I have friends, good friends here, but I feel like we are outmatched. There is a lot to learn just to get started on the new obstacles that we have just discovered. To be frank, I need help. A lot. Anything you can do to help would be appreciated.
Sincerely,
Cassandra
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No sooner has Vallen wandered off to Oleg's small outdoor pub to fetch a pint and work on a letter than he hears his name shouted in a deep voice. "Vallen!" comes the unexpected cry, and as Vallen turns on the bench to see who is calling him, he is dumbfounded by an unexpected sight: Olin Silverclasp, his uncle.
Olin is wearing fine gray-and-green clothing with a heavy leather belt and hobnailed boots. He has a leather vest over his tunic and his salt-and-pepper beard is neatly brushed into three forks, each with a silver ring clasping it. Vallen recalls that Olin is a mason who not only makes works for his own people, but spent a good twenty-five years working on fortifications for House Garess. He became quite wealthy and well-known for his work, and he chose to remain on the surface for the prestige and the pay. (After all, if a dwarf works for humans, there is always the chance that rumors might start up that the craftsdwarf only did so because his skills were not up to the level of excellence necessary to succeed in a dwarf-hold... Olin is, certainly, a great stonemason; but rumors are rumors and once one has left the dwarf-hold behind, politics can become complicated.)
"I'd heard that you were here, charting these lands and making room for new buildings," says Olin as he eases onto the bench next to Vallen. "This will be a great reunion! House Garess has decided to invest in this venture and I had the opportunity to take a contract doing masonry for these new lands. How could I say no? My boy, making fortifications to defend an existing castle is one thing, but making a whole new city! Planning it from the start, getting it right, turning the earth and stone into a monument to creation!" He lets out a hearty chuckle. "Oh, I can see you have that fire too. With Torag's will, we'll make something of this place." He frowns slightly and looks off in the distance (which is essentially the palisade wall that looms overhead). "A shame that there's not a mountain to be seen, though."
Korinne and Hatch go to talk to Oleg, who is practically fuming. Svetlana is running about fetching food and drink while Oleg is snarling at the occasional customer who has come to trade for supplies.
"WHAT NOW!" he snaps, before he realizes that it's Korinne. "Er, sorry, miss Korinne. It's just been so much busy and bustle here with all these people! I wish they'd move along. This is a trading post, not a town square!"
"Hush, dear," says Svetlana, taking a moment to lay a comforting hand on Oleg's arm. "I'm sure this will all die down in a day or so and business will be back to normal. Speaking of which, now that the ladies are back, shouldn't you try to get a note out to the locals in case there are any more jobs that need doing?"
"Right, right," he says, taking some coin from a settler and sending the man on his way with a shooing motion. "I came out here to get away from people, but they chased after me!"
Auric says to Alexei, "M'lord, Kiely is simply a messenger. She will have to return to Restov with the information of how this settlement proceeds. We should draft a plan for where these people will settle, and then make a public announcement."
Vance hauls Tuskgutter into the stockade. Later that evening, Vekkel Benzen finally arrives, hobbling on his bad leg. Vance and Vekkel exchange hearty hugs and Vance says, "You finally got the better of 'im!"
Vekkel replies, "Well, you folks did. But I'm sure glad to see he met his end, th' beast."
Vance says, "Nah, you did your part - you survived to tell the tale, made friends, that's what got 'im in the long run. Damn pig shoulda learned to talk an' gotten friends of his own if he wanted to live."
Vekkel chuckles and says, "My only regret is that yer friend the wizard didn't blow one of his legs off in revenge. But we'll have our revenge anyway! Tasty, tasty revenge. They may say it's a dish best served cold, but in this case it's best served piping hot with black pepper and barbecue sauce."
Vallen has a hand around the handle of a pint, staring deeply into the dark brown depths of a (at best) sub-par human beer. The sound of his name causes his eyebrows to raise- that voice...
Vallen's head rises and looks to the source, but he already knew who it was. "Uncle Olin!" He nearly shouts, voice quivering with familial excitement. "Oh, praise Grundinnar! " The dwarf belts in their native language, quickly spreading his arms and leaping to embrace his kin with a happy laugh. "It's been years! Not since..." Vallen's laugh trails off, and he sits back up from the embrace with a sigh. "Ah...Azak's funeral." He says soberly, before the smile returns to his face, and he clasps the older dwarf's shoulder with a hand. "It is truly a blessing to see you here Olin, what brings you?"
Sipping his pint, Vallen half-listens to the mason's words. The other part of his mind coasts through memories- looking up to Olin throughout his entire life, occasionally seeing the drafts of his Uncle's works. Vallen nods enthusiastically, smiling at the shared vigor for construction he too feels. "Aye Uncle... Torag has given us this opportunity to create something truly special. You said it exactly, the chance to do it all right, to give these humans thousands of years of accumulated Dwarven wisdom, planning, and expertise! I swear to you, when they finally put me in the Silverclasp family tomb this place will be on par with the Sky Citadels of old!" The architect says wistfully, an excited gleam in his eye. "Though uh... yes." A sheepish smile creeps up to take over his face, and he admits sadly. "Well, once we ship in a bunch of stone from the Five Kings...it's not good mason territory, you're right, but by Torag's magnificent beard we're up to the challenge."
Oleg seems dumbfounded at Korinne's news. He opens and closes his mouth several times like a fish, but then - with Svetlana still resting a hand on his arm - he says, "I suppose, er, if you're going to make a go of turning this land from bandit-infested country to something resembling a real civilized place, I'd rather trust you ladies than anyone else."
Svetlana adds, "Though it seems odd that the Regent would extend aid for you to make your own nation, rather than just settling new towns in the name of Brevoy."
Oleg shrugs and says, "Politics. Feh." He scowls slightly and says, "I guess that means a lot more people coming through here now."
Svetlana says to him, "But that does mean we may finally have the means to fix up the old palisade and defenses, and to rebuild some of this place."
"Well... that's true I suppose," says Oleg. "Anyway, I guess... I'm gonna miss the tranquility of living out where people aren't bugging me all the time, but if the trade-off is that you're going to be my new neighbors and keep away no-gooders like those bandits who were harassing us just a month ago... I suppose that's a trade I can live with."
Letter done, Cassandra rejoins the impromptu meeting with Korrine and the owners of Oleg's. So now they had to build a kingdom. Great. How does one do that? "Hey guys? What are we even going to call it?" she asks suddenly. "The kingdom. And the Staglord's old place. I assume we are using it to start things off right?"
Jenya has a letter of her own to write
Hey Ma,
How're things at the shop? I know I promised to write more often but things have been real busy for me the last little while. Fell in with a good group of people and we've been travelling around the Stolen Lands collecting bounties on monsters that have been preying on travelers and you know Desna isn't in favour of that.
I know you wished I was more of a good Abdaran but I've always felt the Starsong more. It's why I didn't stay in Jovvox and, I don't regret it! I do miss everyone though.
Speaking of people, the ones I told you about had a charter to explore The Stolen Lands, and it seems like they took out a real bad bandit known as the StagLord! Cause of this I think they've been given the right to set up a brand new kingdom and turn The Stolen Lands into something different! I think I'll hang around here some more and see if they need help with that.
Your loving daughter
Jenya P.
Having done that she goes off to find Korinne and Cassandra; the two members of the group that seemed like they had been a part of the group the longest. Hey, I don't know if you guys need me around still but, would love to help you build this new thing.