Unable to reach the elf and deliver more substantial aid, Tove takes up a closer position and does the best she can with another surge of energy.
Azen continues to sing as she shoots at the Troll facing Garethane.
(bullseye, inspire courage)
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With Celebeth finishing off her and Kalaman's opponent, Rhiannon breaks into a run, hurdling the troll's body as she races across the distance, to drive her blade deep into the remaining troll's back.
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Gritting his teeth against the assault of the troll and thankful for the healing grace of Erastil, the timely help from Rhiannon, and the confidence of a bard song well sung, the elf continues to trade blows with the creature.
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Tove does her best to keeo the party alive, channeling more healing energies and Celebeth finishes off the downed troll while the others swarm the remaining troll with arrows and blades. Rhiannon's burning blade finishing off the fight.
Azen stops singing and climbs down from her perch in the tree. She checks the trolls for loot and then heals Garethane a little more.
Cleaning her blade as the fire dies down, Rhianon sheathes her weapon, checking on her companions before helping to inspect the bodies.
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The party gathers back after a successful ambush of the troll scouting party. Searching the burning bodies of the trolls reveals little beyond greasy loin cloths and bags of food stuffs of dubious origin.
With the immediate troll threat neutralized, you begin your journey back to Elkmark. The trip will take you until mid-evening to make it home, but it will be nice to sleep in your own beds again tonight.
Tove grimaces and closes the bag. "We should bury these, whoever they were, they deserve better than this."
With the remains of those unfortunate enough to cross the troll's path previously laid to rest, the party sets off for Elkmark.
When you arrive in Elkmark, a good number of the ruling council are not in city - out seeing to reports of a troll menace to the west as you are told. A few days pass by with no word of the councilors return, when on the evening of the fourth day, the young boy you had contracted for the hefty sum of five silver pieces comes rushing into what passes for an inn in the small town. "Sir Wulfric!" the boy exclaims. "They're home! I just saw them heading into the keep."
The journey back to Elkmark is uneventful, though Kalaman seems more distant than usual. It is early evening of the second day of your journey home when you see the welcome sight of the Fort Redemption on the horizon.
You ride into town, the townsfolk happy to see that you have all returned safely. Most are eager to hear how the expedition went and see your safe return as a good sign. As you ride up to the gates of the keep, Kalaman suddenly speaks up. "I think my time with all has come to an end." he begins. "I find myself struggling to control the blade and its urges are becoming stronger and more difficult to control. Rather than risk your safety I shall be departing Elkmark in the morning."
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Garathane claps a hand on the shoulder of the uneasy warrior. "Best of luck on wherever your travels take you, Kalaman. Know your work here had value and we appreciate the time you spent with us."
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Tove’s face falls slightly as she hears the finality in Kalaman’s words. She watches him intently as a reluctant understanding sinks in. Finally she gives the tiefling a solemn nod.
"I can see you’ve given this much thought," she says, stepping forward to mirror Garethane’s gesture. "If this is truly your path, then I won’t stand in your way. Just know that Elkmark will always be here, and the gates of Fort Redemption will always be open to you."
"Not 'Sir', at least not yet. But thank you," Wulfric replies to the boy. He heads out of the inn and either walks or rides to the keep .
Catching the party after Kalaman departs but before they go inside, he calls out. "Baroness Tove! It is Wulfric Tilernos from Rostland. Might I have a word?"
Wulfric wears a mithral breastplate, clearly of exceptional value, and has a cutlass at his side.
"I am pleased to see you have made it back from dealing with trolls. Word has spread of your successes, and I wish to offer my services to your enterprise. I have training as a scout and mage, if that could be of any use."
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Celebeth gives Kalaman a hug before the tiefling can escape.
"It was good to have you with us," she says. "Good luck in figuring things out. I'm sure we'll cross paths again."
~~~~~~~~~~
The half-elf watches curiously as the stranger introduces himself to Tove. She blinks a few times and keeps her thoughts to herself as she tries to get a bead on this new arrival. It's inevitable that as the team's star rises, supplicants will come with various agendas, for good or for ill. If only she were a better judge of character...
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As Tove hears her name called, she turns, squinting slightly at the man approaching them. His face is familiar, but it takes her a moment to place it. When he introduces himself as Wulfric Tilernos, her memory clicks. She remembers visiting Tilernos farm, administering treatment to the man’s ailing father, she remembers his face in the crowd as she held services in the village nearby.
"Wulfric… yes, from Rostland," she replies, her tone warm but measured. She raises a hand to her companions, signalling that she knows the man before stepping forward to greet him properly.
"Welcome to Elkmark! Folks ‘round here tend not to use the word 'Baroness'. I’m go by the title of Stag Lord, but you friend are welcome to call me Tove. I’m glad to see you here." She takes in the sight of his mithral breastplate and the cutlass at his side as she takes him by the hand, and she listens thoughtfully as he explains himself.
"Well Wulfric, we can use all the help we can get here, especially from someone with your skills. As you may have overheard, our Magister just now let us know that he will be leaving us come morning. And the threat of the trolls to the south has not yet been entirely extinguished, she furrows her brow.
"The Stolen Lands have been unforgiving, you might notice none of my original cosignatories from Restov remain at my side. But I promise you the work here remains rewarding for those sturdy enough of heart and mind. You’re welcome to join us if you’re willing to put in the work."
With an encouraging smile, she adds, "Come, we are road-weary and could use a good meal. You can get acquainted with the others over dinner. I do hope you’ll put down roots here. Elkmark could certainly use a man of your quality."
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"It was an honor to fight alongside you, Klaman!" Rhiannon says, clasping the tiefling's forearm firmly before stepping back.
-----------------
When the armored man calls out to Tove, approaching her, the warrior stands quietly behind the Baroness, although an astute observer would note that she stands within easy striking distance, her posture only relaxing slightly with Tove's acknowledgement ad welcoming tone.
"I would be happy to join you for a meal and tell you my story."
--
"My family has connections to Lastwall, and I was fortunate enough to be sent there as a squire. It was reassuring to be in a more forthright nation. Great devotion to their goddess and the cause of justice, even if a bit more urban than I would like. Their cavalry training is unmatched, and I did the best I could to pick up some useful skills. As it happens, I also displayed some skill at wizardry, and even there Lastwall can offer some training.
I returned home to Rostland last year, when my father took ill. Tove was passing through, and she tended to him as well as spoke in the village. My family follows the way of Erastil, as does she. He is doing well, by the way. Has regained some of his strength, and the neighbors help with the harder tasks on the farm. It is the way of small villages that decent folk help one another.
I confess, I have always had some distrust of Brevoyan politics. Virtue is not held in such high esteem in the big cities, and 'honor' often seems to only go so far as avenging insults. So when the call came for explorers to venture into the Stolen Lands under the auspices of Restov and the Dragonscale Throne, I feared being used as a pawn in their politics. I was too cynical, it seems. You have been able to do some good for the people here, and uphold the faith of Erastil.
My focus is scouting. I am fairly skilled at moving unseen, I react quickly to danger, and I can use magic to see around corners or beyond doors. Should you have particular needs, I can work to learn such magic, although I struggle with illusions and with magic that bends the mind."
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"Well, a goud scout is always a bonus, and the more magic the better." Rhiannon says, smiling at the irony, that she, among her companions was the only one without some semblance of magical talent.
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During the meal, Kesten remains quiet, observing the newcomer. The young settlement's General, Celeste cozies up to Tove and listens to the conversation.
Jhod is not in the keep at the present time, apparently back at the Temple of the Elk at the time being.
Azen sits beside her sister at dinner, letting her sound out the newcomer before getting too attached.
Celebeth nods at Wulfric's story and says, "So what is it you hope to do out here on the frontier? We're slowly building up a new town, what do you see as the future here and your role in it?"
"Help build the town, and the lands around it. A place for decent and honest folk to go. Not a crusader state trying to rid the surrounding lands of their lawless ways - the River Kingdoms are going to be the River Kingdoms - but a refuge for honorable people to try to build something together. Homesteads, villages, farms, and the like.
Even in lands of backstabbing politics like Brevoy there are many who would prefer a more virtuous place to live. And even in the River Kingdoms there are those who would prefer to live in a place with concepts of law and justice. A realm here in the Stolen Lands could attract many.
I don't know what your vision is, or how it lines up. If you have something different in mind, I might still be able to help.
My talents specifically? Scouting and magic. Have you need of a Magister?"
Brevoy is a fine place to live. Lots of good people live there. You should be careful who you are talking to with those wide insults.
"Lots of good people live there. But they aren't the ones running things. I do not wish to serve the Dragonscale Throne.
If you do, then perhaps I made a mistake coming here.
I had hoped that a land with more moral leadership could be a refuge for those not fond of the machinations of the great houses of Brevoy."
Celebeth nods a few times and adds, "Well, Elkmark is young yet. How its culture shapes up is going to depend upon the influence of people who take charge and serve as inspiration to the locals."
"For the moment we still have good ties with the Swordlords, and while we may have differences of opinion regarding the direction of House Surtova and the flow of Brevic politics, it's useful for now to remain on decent terms with the neighbor that is, after all, financially sponsoring this venture."
"Anyway, sounds like you might have a personal beef with Brevoy? That's your business. It seems like your heart is in the right place."
"I believe Azen would be happier if I left.
My apologies for wasting your time, Tove. I take my leave."
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"I don’t think that’s what she was saying," Tove says, looking between Azen, Celebeth, and their guest. "However, while I do understand your bitterness toward the Crown, as Celebeth points out it wouldn’t prudent to bite the hand that feeds us, as it were. Such is our situation at this point in time, but I hope I can reassure you that our vision for Elkmark’s future aligns with yours. An honest land for honest folk is exactly the kind of realm we’re striving to build here. I do hope you’ll stay, Wulfric."
Please stay, Wulfric. I grew up in Brevoy. Perhaps I am too sensitive. I'll leave you to talk to Tove.
Azen leaves to go clean up and get a nap.
"I grew up in Rostland," Wulfric replies, and there is clearly a great deal of emotion and meaning in that statement.
He sits back down and picks at his food.
"And that is why I have a beef with the Dragonscale Throne. The Valley of Fire. The forced union with Issia. Many Rostlanders feel as I do. Most? I can't say. But beyond that, I dislike Brevoy's incredibly pointless patriarchy, and various aspects of the feudal tradition.
I would hope that your realm does not, for example, declare that women cannot inherit property. There are four women running things, it seems.
And the status of commoners? I would hope they have a voice and some legal rights, unlike in Brevoy.
I can certainly keep my mouth shut when talking to our patrons. It is prudent to do so. But it is good to know what you see as things that can be corrected or improved upon in a new realm."
"Anyway. Have you need of a Magister?"
Taking in the tense conversation and letting out a sigh as Azen takes her leave, Rhiannon turns to Wulfric, responding to his emphatic outburst.
"As you said, there are a number of women among the Ruling Council, our Stag Lord is a woman, as is the General of our militia," Rhiannon says looking at Tove and Celeste beside her. ”Our Spymaster and Diplomat…the faces we meet both the outside world and inner unrest are women. I am the hand that dispenses the Stag Lord’s law.” she says, giving a slight bow in Tove’s direction without even being conscious of it.
”Do you truly think we would allow women to be treated as anything less than full and equal citizens in our lands? You will find those of both noble and ‘common’ blood at this table, yet we all have a voice. Yes we might have been granted our authority here by the Dragonscale Throne, but Elkmark is based on Community above all else. The wellbeing of those who live here is always the first among our concerns.”
"And yes, we do happen to find ourselves in need of a Magister."
Tove leans back, resting her arm across the back of Celeste's chair. She allows Wulfric to finish, listening closely as he vents his frustrations with Brevoy's feudal politics.
"You have strong opinions, Wulfric, but as you can see, we've no patriarchy here." She smirks to her girlfriend and her smile broadens as she looks around the room to the other women on the ruling council. "Brevoy’s feudal traditions don't hold much sway here. The politics of those big cities always struck me as being out of touch with the realities of life. Especially in the frontier. Here in Elkmark, we aim for something different."
"You feast in the halls of Fort Redemption, a place for folk to build new lives, find new purpose, and leave behind the inequalities of the old world. We’ve no intentions of barring anyone from building a life here, not because of their gender, and not for any other reason for that matter. Elkmark has room for anyone willing to work hard, regardless of who they are or where they were born."
"Our settlement here is a work in progress, to be sure, but our foundations are rooted in the strength of our fledgling community and in our commitment to building in harmony with the land here, and its native peoples. Regarding the status of the common folk, we have little regard for such distinctions here. Lord Surtova might have granted us the right to rule on paper, but my mandate comes from the Stag Helm, and it was bestowed on me by the Elk Father himself."
Her green eyes glaze momentarily as she recalls the moment when the antlered helm first became hers and she continues with a tone of reverence, "Erastil teaches us that strong leadership must be tempered by acts of service to our communities. A leader in Old Deadeye's church doesn’t stand above or apart from their flock, they stand among them, building with their own hands, supplementing their wisdom with the perspectives and experience of the people around them. Communities thrive when everyone in them has the opportunity to contribute their voice and their energy towards their common goal. I have no interest in withholding any rights from those who come to build this nation with me. Those outside have just as much right to speak as anyone within these walls."
At the conclusion of her sermon, she takes a drink and clears her throat before continuing in a more practical tone.
"As for our need for a Magister, your arrival here is a fortuitous one for all of us. As I mentioned outside, our friend Kalaman is leaving in the morning, and he has been serving in that post up until now. If you would be willing to step into his place, I could use someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind. Your skills, and your convictions, would be a welcome addition to our council."
”Do you truly think we would allow women to be treated as anything less than full and equal citizens in our lands?"
Wulfric relaxes and smiles.
"No, I did not think that at all. The question was rhetorical, to illustrate where you have already improved over Brevoy in wisdom and justice."He listens to Tove's explanation with great interest.
"If you would be willing to step into his place, I could use someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind. Your skills, and your convictions, would be a welcome addition to our council."
"Gladly. You have very much put my mind at ease. This venture is sounding like all I hoped it could be, and full of great promise. However I can be of assistance, I will."
Celebeth waves to her half-sister as Azen takes her leave.
Celebeth listens carefully, then her pointed ears twitch ever so slightly and she says, "Ah. Ah. Of course. The Rostlander-Issian divide. That makes sense." She nods once and says, "In many ways we're idealists. Brevic resources funded this venture, but we're not afraid to break away from tradition to try to make something better. The Swordlords don't seem to care so long as we keep the southern border peaceful, which has other political implications... but that's for a later day."
The elf may have had a bit much ale upon his return home as he starts spouting philosophy. "Ultimately, we can only control what we can control. And this little patch of the River Kingdoms likely exceeds that!
But protect it... That I think we can hope to do. Especially with your help, Wulfric."
Rhiannon smiles as the worst of the...misunderstanding...is smoothed out. There was no doubt in her mind that at some point in the future a break with the Brevoyan crown would happen, but they would deal with that when the time came.
Taking another swig of her ale, she looks around the table, focusing on the kingdom’s Warden after a bit. ”You’ve been quiet Kesten, things relatively uneventful since we ventured out?”
"Fortunately, yes." Kesten begins.
"Although the mood of the town has been rather somber with the threat of trolls and the uncertainty of if you all were going to return from your latest scouting mission. Not because they felt you were going to leave to town to their own devices, rather that trolls are simply dangerous."
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"Hmm... then we should probably make a point of being visible tomorrow, and put out an update regarding the troll activity in the area, I suppose."
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"Agreed," Tove says firmly. "I must admit, the temptation to return south and finish off these trolls is eating at me, but you're right. The people could use some reassurance, it would do everyone good to see us returned and in good spirits."
She glances between Kesten and Celeste, squeezing the latter's hand in her own. "Thank you both for holding the line in our absence."
"Hmm, it's been almost a month to the day since the Lover's Moon feast. And by my reckoning, yesterday marked six months since our exploration charter was signed in Restov. Perhaps a small gathering, something simple to celebrate the things we've accomplished and to remind everyone we're not alone in all this. I dare say a day off has been well-earned by all of us anyway."
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"That sounds like a wonderful idea." Rhiannon replies with an enthusiastic smile.
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"Oh crap, Lovers' Moon is coming up and I still don't have a lover? Oh what will I do?" wails Celebeth quite fraudulently.
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Tove laughs, "It’s another year before the full moon falls in Erastus again, Celebeth," she chuckles. "You’ve plenty of time to catch a lucky lad or lass’ eye if you wish it."
Rhiannon chuckles. "All the more reason to enjoy a bit of downtime and mingle."
So they speak of Brevic resources, but the Charter was signed in Restov, not in New Stetven. And the Swordlords seem to have more influence than the Crown. That's good.
"What do you have in mind, Tove? What sort of celebration are you envisioning?"
"I thought we could start with a town meeting," Tove replies. "Let everyone hear firsthand of our successes against the trolls and give them a chance to voice any new grievances or concerns. Afterward, we could hold a small feast. Nothing extravagant but a shared meal and some drinks to celebrate our progress, both in our defence against the threat of the trolls and in building something here worth defending."
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"Speaking of grievances and concerns, are there any potential troublemakers that need attention?" Rhiannon asks Meridian, turning to address the Councilor.
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Kesten speaks up, even though he was not the one addressed.
"That portly rabble-rouser that was in town about the time of Bassius's death has been back while you were gone, but my folk ran him off again. Still, it is a situation that should be looked after. Frankly, if I had my way of it, I'd string him up next time I saw him around here...although I would need a rope of significant strength."
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Celebeth frowns slightly and says, "Hmm... worth backtracking quietly, find out who he's working for. One doesn't simply rabble-rouse without having some kind of income. Can't waste his time standing around in the town square haranguing people unless he already has some income stream paying for his room and board."
"True, and while most would likely ignore him, words like his can be a lingering poison. Looks like I'll need to kick in a few doors and turn over a few rocks, once I've gotten together a list of people he's been seen associating with." Rhiannon says, and angry edge slipping into her voice.