Ka'etil nods to Alaric as the man acknowledges him, taking some heart in the respect he has earned, free of the usual prejudices and suspicions he has faced. His face relaxes as his temper calms slightly, and he moves off to search the keep.
"We've stuck with you thus far, and I for one don't intend to leave any time soon. I've found a home here as I never have before, and a level of understanding I have never before experienced, and I shall safeguard that with all my might"
Ry heads back over to where the horses are secured and where Ryul is currently attending to Kae's horse, Konur. "Hello, Ryul." Ariarh walks over to the warhorse and slides her hand gently down from his forehead to his muzzle, all the while whispering lulling words. The horses dark eyes watch her and she accepts the observation. Ry bends her face down against Konur's muzzle and lightly kisses him. "You were brave today, Konur. And strong, for here you are, standing. You deserve your name, my friend." She slides her hand down his neck and along his withers and back, his shoulder, chest and legs, loins and thighs, making sure she checked his body for any subsequent signs of wear and tear. "You just need some proper rest, Konur. We all do." Ry moves over to her horse, Tal, and pulling down her backpack, she removes a bowl from inside. Ariarh casts and the bowl quickly fills to the brim with cool, fresh water. She lifts it to Tal's face and he drinks and then pushes it away with his muzzle. "You know I love you, Tal. You did not let me down today, not even injured." Ry moves to the other horses and in turn gives them water to drink. She wished there had been a water trough where all the horses could drink from alas they had not explored this vast garrison. For now, this would do. After taking her leave with Ryul, she begins to wonder around the keep and happens upon Ka'etil and smiles. "Kae! Find or come across anything interesting in your search of the place?" Silently she was looking him over to see how he was faring after such a fight -- he had spent the majority of the time in the front line fray and she could not fathom how he could do that again and again. "How are you doing, my friend? You fought valiantly, today."
After taking her leave with Ryul, she begins to wonder around the keep and happens upon Ka'etil and smiles. "Kae! Find or come across anything interesting in your search of the place?" Silently she was looking him over to see how he was faring after such a fight -- he had spent the majority of the time in the front line fray and she could not fathom how he could do that again and again. "How are you doing, my friend? You fought valiantly, today."
"Hah, valiantly... I shouldered an arrow, or two and got a little scratch..." he sourly states. "It's been others that have borne the brunt of the pain on this day, and Konur seems to have done more than I, as it was he who felled the outriders this afternoon on the road here. I feel like I must prove myself at somehow, perhaps with a hunt before returning to Oleg's as we are farther south, and we may happen upon Elk, like those I saw from the tower where the Seti were sleeping, or catch other animals on their migrations." Ka'etil seems unsatisfied, and has not yet even thought to clean away the evidence of the fights that is upon him.
His attentions turn to Ariarh, who is less suited for live of violence than he, and has a very different disposition when it comes to carnage. "How do you do after all this savagery? I know you are not at all a war-like creature and are not so suited to violence, or used to it. I do hope this constant battle does not weigh too heavily upon one so naturally peaceable. While melancholy and a heaviness of the heart may enhance the beauty of the soul for some, yours is of a light that should not be sullied by sadness, and a light that I wish to protect and preserve." Concern washes away the poorly hidden signs of suppressed anger. His naturally pretty,tho oft contorted, features take on a rare softness as he offers Ariarh a smile, and lightly touches her, placing his hand on her shoulder momentarily, fingers causing a slight tingle as a storm of electricity that courses within them flares up with his emotion.
The electricity from Kae's fingers sends a short thrill through her at the point where his hand touches her shoulder. Ariarh can't quite define the sensation but it pulses vividly. "You are still wound up." Not an accusation or a question but a plain, simple statement and a feeling Ry could understand in her own limited way. Ry lifts her own hand and places it atop Kae's which is resting on her shoulder and gently kneads the skin in an effort to ease the tension she can sense within him.
Ry can hear and see Kae's genuine concern and it makes her feel sheltered, shielded from the ugliness that can exist in battle and in the aftermath.
Softly speaking, Ry answers, "Aye, battles and death do weigh heavy on me. I would rather talk and act peacefully than go to war and find the cost may be more than anyone bargained for. I attempt to bridge differences. I do not have the stomach for violent interrogation, though I can understand logically the necessity of it at times. Life and death are part of the cycle and so I take them in my stride in the best way that I can. I fear for you all, those of you in the middle of the heaviest battle, and I'm unable to be the warrior I am required to be as support to those more knowledgeable in the art of battle. My strengths lie elsewhere and I do not ever want to be a burden to any of you for my lack of fighting experience. Your friendship and what you offer me is of great value and I extend the same to you, Kae. I am here to aid through the skills I do possess. I may not be the strongest or the most cunning, but I have my wits and my emotional fortitude. If you ever need someone to talk to or with, you can count on me." Ry gives Kae's fingers another gentle massage before dropping her arm by her waist.
Outline of the Fortress
The fortress itself is divided into two sections; each of the them span the forty feet wide canyon; the bottom of which is the road you have traveled on.
At the eastern side of the canyon is a wall with a gateway in it. The wall itself is thirty feet high, and thirty feet thick with the gateway in it. The gateway has five feet of rock on either side of the open gateway. The wooden gate for this wall has been destroyed.
Beyond the wall the road travels straight and true into what looks like a solid wall of stone. This wall of stone is the natural barrier to the dam and it is incredibly thick. Your aerial mounts are able to perceive much from above and can see that the wall of rock on the far western side – the seeming dead end – is about twenty feet thick of near solid stone. At the base of this wall, level with the road, is what looks to be the remains of an old doorway, perhaps ten feet tall, and ten feet wide. Sylvath will explain this is the doorway that reaches to the rampart of the dam, but now it is filled with loose rock and looks likes someone took pains to block it for a level of safety, perhaps...
On the south side of the canyon you see that there is carved large doorways, and examining inside of them you are able to discover what looks like a stable built into the floor of the rock. This stable is large enough to house twenty horses, and perhaps four wagons. Besides the stables is a small room that has a large fireplace, (larger then the rooms for personal quarters, but not as large as the fireplace in the kitchen), and what looks like the makings of a forge. At least, this is your guess, as this particular area is filled with an anvil and tools for a forge, and large sacks of coal rest nearby the fire. You suspect that if not a true forge, at the least the place could be used to fix armor by the bandits who have claimed this place.
There are stairways leading both up and down.
If you take the stairs up you discover taht there are layers of rooms and apartments above you; small chambers that could house families – almost like an apartment complex. You move through the levels of the fortress. The stonework is excellent, and it reminds you of dwarf-work, for it is not only sturdy and well made, but also artistic in its design; that is to say – there is a clear symmetry to the patterns and architecture that often belies simplicity for form.
The south side has eight floors/levels that rise above the ground (that is, there is roughly 80 feet until you reach the "roof, which is actually a battlement sheltered in the height of the cliffs).
The first floor housing the stables, and it is really two floors, for it stretches twenty feet in height. It also has large areas for what seems to be kitchens, with a fairly large fireplace; big enough for even Ariarh to walk into without ducking her head. You see that this has bricks that run through the stone work above. It occurs to you that you have also seen cunning architecture throughout which allows narrow openings in the rooms that may have once housed piping for chimney’s and fireplaces. In this fashion, all the rooms in the southern side could have small fireplaces.
When you travel to the areas above you find many rooms connected with long, well constructed hallways. Each “room” is subdivided into two smaller chambers. Each chamber is roughly twenty feet square, and between them is a long stone hallway roughly five feet in width.
The “Roof” of this place is a wide battlement. Much like before, you can see that the roof allows for rain spouts and gutters to divert water into the ground below; as such, it is fairly dry, though the floor just below the roof is damp and foul; smelling of mold. You believe this is because there are no coverings for the stairs that lead to the battlements and there is plenty of rain lately.
The south side also has stairs leading down. They are roughly twenty feet in width, and have many landings as it crosses back and forth The stairway is twenty feet wide, and as you travel lower and lower into them, you believe it is fashioned to take you to the very bottom of the fortress, to where the estates and villages were once located. However, based on your guesses, when you reach nearly twenty to thirty feet from the ground on the south side of the cliffs, your footsteps take you into a bracken-like water. You suspect that on the bottom of the stairs is the entrance to the fortress, but it has long flooded.
The north side is fairly the same; once you reach the third floor. However; the first thirty feet (or three floors) are made of tall rooms. From what you can gather, this may have once been storerooms for gear and water; granneries or "warehouses". There is also a stairway that leads down to the ground below, on the north side. But this one is slightly different then the stairs on the southern side.
The stairway which leads down to the bottom of the ground descends for about ten feet down, before it is blocked up by rubble. At first you presumed this was coincidence, but there seems no evidence of a cave-in. Also, next to the stairs you see what looks like a deep well. Sylvath explains that this well is not actually meant for water, but indicates that some sort of “elevator”, operated by a long sense destroyed winch and pulley mechanism, allowed for the lifting of heavier goods from the hips on the northern side. But that same chasm is also blocked off, again, this blocking seems rather deliberate.
The southern side, where the horses were, was what was primarily used. The northern side of the cliffs is mostly deserted; though there are many rooms above, like the south side.
You have found nothing magical nor remarkable inside the rooms. Instead, you find that the floors have been stockpiled with goods and gear and some obvious loot.
The upper chambers (1st floor above the stables) are filled with basic furniture; tables, chairs, bedrolls, and so forth. The “kitchen” area also has lots of food and wood stored near by.
You have found a cart in the stables; it is fairly large, four wheeled cart, used for hauling goods and gear. There are two horses in the stables at this time, though they have not been touched by the bandits. A cursory glance reveals that they are not warhorses but rather they are packhorses, possibly for hauling goods and gear to the bridges.
Sorting through the gear you find the following Miscellaneous Gear, in basic bulk.
2 month supply of Dry Trail rations for 20 men
3 month supply of exotic rations (spices, honey, tobacco) for 10 men
12 casks of mead
Bedrolls and supplies for 20 men
1 month supply of Hay/feed for twenty horses
Multiple mugs, plates, cutlery, and so forth for twenty men
2 casks of lamp/lantern oil
4 lanterns, 8 lamps, multiple torches
10 sets of pick and shovel
Surviving Enemy War Horses: Six
10 Trapper Kit’s
Trapper’s Kit Includes –
20 feet of rope
1 hatchet (small axe stats)
1 bedroll
1 backpack
Waterskin
Knife
Cooking Kit
Flint and Steel
2 uses of the Healers Kit
In addition, you also find
4 sets of Climbers Kits
2 sets of Healers Kits
2 sets of Leeching Kits
1 Symptom Kit
General Loot
You also discover a treasure chest of sorts. Inside is the following in raw coinage (it includes pots, pans, silverware, coins, and other things… but only after long appraisal will you discover it – this is just the summary of what you find).
1,000 PP
10,000 GP
7,500 SP
2,000 CP
2,000 GP in Jewels and Gems
Final Note:
Exploring the entire compound; policing the bodies; last rites; redistributing items and so forth will be concluded roughly by 7:00 PM (which is after sundown). You can camp here, or try to make a mad dash to Oleg's in the middle of the night.
Brett will recommend making this your camp, and leaving your own guards here and sending a detachment ot Oleg's to set up information in the morning. But he will wait for an escort and someone to provide him any notes or letters for Oleg. He does recommend some people stay here, as you just claimed it, and others can go talk to Oleg formally.
More information on specifics on what kind of jewels/gems, what items you find on the bodies (via armor, personal effects) and what will occur for the last rites done to Tiam will be taken care of later.
The adventure is formally over; Book 2 formally starts in game in the spring. Between now and then, in game, a lot of information is coming to you (should be in email by the end of the weekend). Then you will be getting more details and you clearly have lots of options right now as to what your next move is. But understand that what is going on between exploring the place, retrieving Tiam’s body, and last rites etcetera will be taking you a bit.
Given what you have found and done, what are your plans next? Oh, and by the way, I am really enjoying the Social RP that I have seen so far. Keep it up, it is really excellent work and I’ve been enjoying reading it all.
"I agree with Brett about leaving a guard here whilst a second group heads back to Oleg's. May I suggest that we consider leaving Sylvath and his kinsmen here to guard the fortress? I believe, for the time being, that we should keep the metallic kobolds existence a secret. By having them all remain here we can ensure their safety as we have no idea what is awaiting us back at the trading post. What say you?" Ry addresses the others in her group, in particular waiting to hear from the kobolds themselves regarding the idea of having them wait it out until the group's return. They had vowed to serve and protect Anuk-Su Seti and if she rode with Alaric then they may feel compelled to also follow. If they are adamant about returning with them, then she would abide by their decision. "Having only recently acquired this keep, I would not see it overtaken by other bandits or some such travellers. In addition, we could leave the gear and horses we have discovered right here. There is too much of it to transport and it will only slow us down. And, if the kobolds stay, they could make use of some of it in our absence." Ry pauses, considering some things. "Khrovin, I remember you wanting to acquire a cart and since we have been fortunate enough to find one amongst the gear, will you be wanting to make use of it?" Ry looks over at Khro and awaits his answer. Her eyes light up when she meets his gaze. "And, if necessary, we could take back the coin and gems, but I have no preference either way. Since this part of the land is now ours with the Stag Lord's demise, I would see our map witnessed and signed off by Oleg as soon as possible and the land legally ours."
If they were to leave in the morning, Ariarh would undertake her hour meditations at dawn to renew her spells before the ride to Oleg's. It would be good to catch up with the others at the trading post and also discover if any of the people, such as the Grears, Banks or Ironhorses, would venture out to the fortress with them. There was room here for many a family. It would take some of the pressure off Oleg, as having them camped at the trading post was probably eating into his limited winter reserves.
"I agree with riding hard back to Oleg's, and assess the situation there. If the Seti remain here, they can hold down the fort, as it were, and we shall return with re-enforcements within a matter of days. We can use this fortress as a staging-ground, go hunting until the weather goes bad, and then hole up here with minimal forces."
"I would say that we should send any trade-goods back to Oleg's so he can convert them into wealth. I've never been partial to fancy foods, although I am appreciative," Kae says nodding to Brett, "so I'd be willing to sell spices and such off, if our master chef doesn't mind, although if the joy of eating properly prepared food will be greater than any coin we receive, as we've found a respectable trove here, I don't have too strong an opinion."
"I feel like the most important things for us to do ensure there are bodies enough to man the fortresses that we have found. There's all this talk of nation-building, but we need a people to give a home to before we can give them a home. So we should make arrangements to settle these forts and may need to figure out how to populate the area, as we shall claim it once we return to Oleg's."
By now, if you check your email, you will see a brief summary of the events of Book 1 that don't specifically corospond to "core material".
The summary includes important people, places, events, rumors and information that is not in the core book, but in the campaign.
I wrote it last night, so there are most likely a few spelling and grammar errors, however; it is roughly 30 pages, so, there is that to consider.
I will be posting again soon, shortly after the details of this battle. Sorry I haven't done something sooner, but I'm afraid I've had a bit of a busy weekend.
Look for a post later this evening,
peace
Indeed, keeping the Kobolds as our personal secret might indeed be to our favour for the moment at least. If they were to stay here, then we could well be back within 2 days at the most with more men to support this area. Let us load as much as we can on the cart and then move on to Oleg's. Each moment we dally is a moment that we might yet fail.
Turning to Alaric Thank you for your kind words Alaric, I came to these lands for a purpose that is entirely my own, and alas I have had no luck in completing it. Perhaps with this land being ours now I might be able to devote a little more time to it.
In the meantime, have you thought about where to place the first city of our kingdom? If it were down to me, I would actually place it on this very spot. Did we not fight hard and furiously in order to claim it as our own? It is a heavily built fortress, and should this land that we call our own come under attack we would be in the right place to defend it from almost all those who would wish us ill.
Khrovin then proceeds to work hard to fill the cart with as much as it can take, and then sits and begins once more poring over the charts and blueprints for the bows that he is to make for Bronwyn.
I could not agree with you more Khrovin. This place is perfect. I hope you will all forgive me but I have made a promise to Ariarh that I hope you will allow me to keep. I promised her that the first city would be named after a friend that she lost. Therefore I hope you will join me in naming this place Saravale. Alaric will bow to Ry and then help Khrovin load the cart...or atleast he will direct his Unseen Servant to do it.
I could not agree with you more Khrovin. This place is perfect. I hope you will all forgive me but I have made a promise to Ariarh that I hope you will allow me to keep. I promised her that the first city would be named after a friend that she lost. Therefore I hope you will join me in naming this place Saravale. Alaric will bow to Ry and then help Khrovin load the cart...or atleast he will direct his Unseen Servant to do it.
I too have knowledge of this friend of Ariarh's, and thus gladly join you in the naming of this place as Saravale. May its fields always be bountiful, it's citizens happy, and the trade routes productive.
Not sure here, guys... are you leaving here in the morning or at night? I think it is still the same evening (that is, the 9th).
But if you plan on leaving, let me know.
Also, if you are planning on taking a laden cart over snow covered fields, it won't be as fast as horses... Instead, it will be actually kind of slow. If you choose to take horses you can ride there, which is faster.
Still and all, are you planning on leaving at night, or in the morning?
Also, Khrovin and Alaric: What are you loading/helping with into the cart? There is a ton of gear you could be moving, if you read the email, and I am kind of curious. Also, depending on what you decide to take, there is also the issue of having to figure out weight and movement. So, as you guys are doing this, if you could let me know, that would be great.
Thanks!
"Alaric...You honour my friend, Saarah. And you honour me by remembering your promise. I would like all the companions to be content in the naming, so I would like to hear from Kae and Bronwyn on this matter, as well." Ry moves closer to Alaric and spontaneously throws her arms around him in a warm hug, feeling suddenly very close to him, whispering against his ear, "You're a man of your word, indeed, Alaric Winter."
After a little time, Ry extracts her arms from around Alaric and turns to direct a question to Khrovin, "Khro, what will you be transporting in the cart? I ask because I believe we should leave the bulk of the items here as we will be returning in a matter of days and hopefully with others in tow. Is there anything of significance you believe should be taken back to Oleg's?" Ry's gaze stays on Khrovin's, awaiting his answer.
I too have knowledge of this friend of Ariarh's, and thus gladly join you in the naming of this place as Saravale. May its fields always be bountiful, its citizens happy, and the trade routes productive.
Ry smiles affectionately at Khrovin. "What a lovely wish for this place and its people, Khro. And, thank you for assenting to the name. That it is being considered means so much to me. If the city is named differently, I will respect the decision just the same."
"It may take much work, but we shall make this city shine like the beacon of hope that is worthy of the name Saravale," Ka'etil says nodding, calming as the evening wore on.
"Let us leave weapons here as we shall want them to defend the place once we bring people here. What we should bring is goods that will be valuable for trade.
I'm sure Oleg would be able to sell off the Trapper's Kits eventually, but most of the goods here would be useful for our people here. Maybe some of the "Exotic Rations" could be sold, but what's really worth more, tasty food, or a few more copper pieces?"
Now standing under the rocky overhang of the fortress Brett has begun to kindle a fire. The night is both cold and damp, winds rising from the waters below.
Sylvath has returned with his companions and between them is the body of their fallen ally Tiam. Brett watches them with the body but says nothing as they carry him up the narrow confines of the canyon road.
Sylvath indicates that they place the body down, and the others lay him on the rock. You are perhaps surprised to see that although the body is laid gently and respectfully, there is no effort made to cover it with a cloth, wrap, or any sort of semblance of dignity. Indeed, the body itself is already starting to stiffen; whether from the chill or the onset of rigor mortis you are not sure.
The bodies of the wyvern soldiers have been colleted; they are surely warriors of wealth, as they each are wearing a similar style of full plate mail and have similar style swords. The mail alone is worth a great price, despite the obvious etchings of a wyvern on the left shoulder piece.
Lighting his pipe, Brett watches the kobolds move to the fallen warriors; he sees them wipe the blood off the armor, and take what actions to clean and tend to their appearance. His eyes flick to the body of Tiam who rests on the stones, the left arm twisted sickeningly, and dried blood still clotting his wounds. He glances between the two – kobolds washing the bodies of evil warriors assuredly dedicated to an evil goddess while their own ally and brother lays on the stone like discarded refuse.
He seems to be mentally debating the matter for a while in his head.
”What the hell ye be doing, eh?” he barks out at last.
”Them basterds be folk that done tried to kill us, near came close. Meantime they done summoned demon-kind and be sworn to an evil goddess, likely as not… and ye be washing them up real pretty? And, if that be yer way, I understand it… but to leave yer own mate and kin laying by like a bloody sack of dung? What be that about, eh?” he asks the last with a growl around the stem of his pipe.
Ryul, Glaidus and Adjt pause, but Sylvath indicates that they continue, and turns to Brett, his gaze cool and steady, the light of the fire flickering in his flat eyes.
”Thou speak to me of things which thy do not understand. I forgive thee for thy attempts at correction. Know thee this; we are of high blood, as such we are bound with sacred duty to treat the bodies of fallen knights with the manner that is correct to their cause. We wash the bodies for it is not mete that they be given to the afterlife in ways that are lowly or foul – they follow a dark goddess, true; but she is a goddess. For that they have honor, for we may contest the gods in their motives, but we do this with dignity, for they are worthy of such in their divine place. Further, these men have met with us in clean battle. There was among them no attempts of deception or trickery. They fought us with honor, and so did die with it. We shall commit them then with honor due to their flesh. We shall at least wash the stains of battle from their bodies so that they are well met in the afterlife; for at the least they are men who fell honorably, doing their duty.”
”I tell ye truly; though we do not agree with their values, yet they had courage – a value all gods and their creations love. Further; they stood true to their oaths, therefore we bequeath to them this last gift as men who died well and true.”
”Bosh! Brett spits out. "That be a whole lot of nothing, then. What about the other group of scum that we done cut down on the plains, the lads by the bridge? Didn’t see ye jumping out to wash their bodies, eh? What be the cause o’ that, then, if ye be all so hot and bothered to be nice to folk and all?”
”We have done so with these men because the manner in which they conducted themselves – even unto death – is consistent with an honorable sending. See here? Even the other warriors who fell on the plains we have recovered to cleanse. But the others that thy speak on? The others were bandit scum who hid in shadows to bring chaos and death to those they knew not, for nothing but promise of coin - for they are not merely bandits, but men of low character; mercenaries. Faugh! I spit on them. They acted as cutpurses, highwaymen, and footpads - and died for their actions. Nay, we shall not tend to their remains. Rather, if thy would, thou or thy allies may bury them, burn them, or let their flesh feed dogs, they were men of low character. They are dead and will be judged as they died – without honor,” Sylvath says with a stern voice.
Glaidus lets out a grunt of agreement and slams the butt of his spear which was laying near by on the ground in assent.
Brett looks between the two, shaking his head in confusion.
”Well… well… then what about yer own mate? Ye be laying him on the rocks there like the bandits, eh? What be the cause of that, eh?”
Sylvath lets out a patient sigh.
”Thou are not accustomed to our ways, and so have erred again. We do not dispose of our kind as men do, but rather, another fashion. Therefore we afford our kinsman the honor due to his flesh even as I speak to thee,” he says with a gentle response.
Brett looks between the bodies of the human warriors and the dead kobold, back and forth, his gaze metamorphosing between confusion, disgust, anger, and now to outright bafflement as he digests this information.
”Well, how do ye be “disposing of yer kind”, as ye be putting it?”
Sylvath kneels and proceeds to help his comrades, indicating to Adjt to continue so he may go back to work.
”All true advanced cultures have proper funerary rites; though they differ,” Adjt begins in a matter of fact voice, like a teacher lecturing a student.
”On this matter I am somewhat learned, though,” he adds, his voice carrying less force then Sylvath, but a somewhat cultured tone – Adjt seems to be a creature more suited to study then action, though he has already proved himself a valliant fighter in the previous skirmishes.
”I have read that some dispose of their dead by burning the bodies; letting the ashes rise to the heavens, I believe. Others will place the body of a fallen comrade unto a sailing vessel, sometimes layering it with goods and gear, often battle trophies, and set it adrift into the waves, letting the oceans claim the body. The dwarven folk make tombs in the stone for the bodies of their comrades, and do not place them in the earth.”
”Many men divert from this; rather, they bury the bodies in the earth; placing the bodies beneath soil rather then stone; sometimes placing the body in a cloth wrap or a wooden box. Further, it is written that that men in the far south will often embalm the bodies of their companions, so that the body remains long preserved; while in the land of Osirion there are tales that the bodies of lords and nobles are given over to powerful rituals that keep their flesh from failing, sometimes attempting to use necromancy so their lords can live on as undead masters; though it does often mean the death of many innocents to perform this vile ritual…” he is prepared to go on, but Sylvath turns an impatient gaze up at him, and Adjt checks his flow of information, reverting back to his point.
”My folk… when a member of our people has fallen we take his body to… how would you call it… sacrenarium un… he begins in Draconic, trying to discern the appropriate phrase, the term seeming to be difficult to translate ”Ah! A ‘High Place”. Yes, in elder times, in our youth, we would take the bodies of our fallen to places that our priests would call holy. Our burial grounds, as thou might call them, are mere pillars of stone, high in the air.”
”These pillars of stone,””Adjt continues removing the armor from another warrior, wiping the flesh down of the blood and brushing back the hair gently with his clawed fingers ”The height of which could not be reached without aid. Thus, we ascended wooden planks to the summit, and laid the body as it fell on the flat rock; exposed to the elements. Then, we would move down the planks, remove them so that another could not ascend, and leave then the body exposed to the naked sky and sun; the stars and moon as well. No man shall touch their flesh on such a high place without aid; no beast shall reach them, nor insect assail them, for the bodies rested on stone, not earth.”
”Well, there are birds ye know,” Brett retorts, clearly interested, but with an almost morbid fascination.
”Indeed; and other creatures less fair. Moreover, the sun shall bake their flesh; the rain shall erode it; the winds shall wear it; snow shall cover it… but these are the devices of the gods alone. When our fallen reach the other side of the afterlife they arrive in the manner consistent with what the gods desire. They arrive as the gods would have it be; brought then to the afterlife in the fashion the gods see fit. They alone take the body into their keeping; and we, their servants, give our trust to them so that they shall dispose of our ally, our kinsman, our very brethren… with the dignity that only the gods can offer,” Adjt adds the last somewhat proudly, and at that Brett turns away, somewhat abashed by the naked emotion the somewhat sensitive and gentle kobold is displaying.
Frowning a bit, he continue to smoke, but begins to prepare a hot meal even as the kobolds continue with their ritual. In a time, they have removed the plate mail of the fallen warriors who bore the mark of the wyvern. The armor is placed gently in a pile by the dormant forge, as are the weapons.
”What’re ye doing with yer mate Tiam in the morning?”
”We shall seek a high place to find for him, then place him there,” Sylvath answers grimly.
”I be meaning to ask ye this," Brett says after a long while, clearly pondering this information "ye be right and true with yer mate here, but why not the other that ye found in the caves? Why’d ye not do the same fer him?”
Sylvath responds with a touch of sorrow in his voice.
”We weep for him, our fallen brother, but in the end his body was filled with poisons. It may even be that he would have been profaned by necromancy. He was burned so that this would not happen – though it grieves our heart to do so. Yet who knows what evils were entered into his flesh? Should he remain as he was, he may pollute others with the evil introduced into his blood by the cursed villain in those pits,” Sylvath adds the last with a growl.
”Well, wouldn’t that be up to the gods then? If ye left him in the open too… Hey, now! I be plain on this, I just want to be learning is all,” Brett retorts quickly, tossing up his hands, seeing the kobolds turning their collective gazes on him, seeking for a jest or a barb in his comments, but seeing nothing but genuine concern, they calm, then resume their work.
”It is as I have said,” Sylvath adds ”we do not know what polluted his body. Were it a wound of steel or something more wholesome… then we should commend his flesh the better. But as it was? Sorcery was involved, and poisons… to leave his flesh in a high place and then perhaps see it walking again, animated by dark magics? This is profane to us; so we chose to act as we did. Were we to do otherwise… in this matter we turned to our brother Tiam, for he is more learned on the gods and their will then we and it was by his knowledge of lore that we agreed to what would happen to our fallen brother, for fire shall cleanse all, it is said. But alas! Tiam has fallen as well; but through clean steel, not such foul actions as were witnessed in the caves. Therefore, we are free to commend his body in keeping with our customs as we would do best. We shall find such a high place, perhaps near the river where he fell… but I sense this place seems better. In the dawning we shall take him to the highest point and leave him open for the gods.”
”Perhaps his spirit shall watch over this place, if the gods let him do so in the afterlife,” Ryul adds, a somewhat hopeful expression in his voice.
”Perhaps…” Sylvath responds meditatively.
”What o’ their gear and weapons? I mean the armor and swords and such? What ye be doing with that?” Brett responds, looking at the stacks of plate mail.
”Spoils of battle and war. We have earned their arms, if one of their own seeks to earn this gear back, let them contest us for it,” Glaidus adds with a dark relish.
”Fair enough… “Brett says slowly.
”Well then, what ye be doing with all the bodies of the bandits? I mean the ones ye moved down the road yonder? Leave ‘em there, or bury them, or what?”
Sylvath is now finished his task, and wipes the blood from his fingers with a rag he found.
”I? I should drag their bodies from this place by their heels, so that they do not profane it with their foulness, as their corpses will no doubt fester. Further? There can be nothing for them. I would cast them into a ditch, or leave them to rot for the wolves. They, and their actions, merit no better end then that. After all; they consorted with men who summoned demons, and acted without honor,” he adds with a disinterested tone.
”But… but the ones that be summoning the demons? The priest?”
”Him we did not touch… perhaps another shall dispose of him, but we care not. In the morning we shall drag him from here as well,” Sylvath answers.
”But… but these soldiers were working with the priest; ye know? The one that summoned the bloody demon in the first place? And them ye dispose of right proper?”
”Indeed, yes, master Brett," Sylvath says. "Those men did foul things, but in their heart was a code of honor; one which they did not break or tack course from. As such, they have earned this at least; a clean journey for the afterlife. They may have been acting with evil intentions, but those intentions died with them. Yet their intentions were carried by a body and heart that adhered to a code."
Sylvath stands and turns, facing the east, seeking the dark sky and the stars with his gaze, saying nothing for a moment, lost in thought.
"Therefore we shall at least respect their body - for it had the strength to adhere to a code greater then their very lives, as we have seen - for they died in battle, fighting to the death for their code; and though we may loathe their code, we must not loathe the body that died to preserve it."
Sylvath turns back to Brett, watching him for a moment.
"That distinction - to some it may seem small. Indeed, others may see my words as nothing but mere trivium, yet; if one forgets the little things that make up the greater part… soon their entire life shall become undone,” Sylvath adds softly, speaking almost to himself.
After a moment Brett nods, then pulls out a hip flask from under his cloak and lifts it in salute.
"Fair enough, master Sylvath! To the little things, then; may nay man forget ‘em,” he says, then takes a deep gulp.
Ariarh, having listened to Sylvath and Adjt speak on the how the bodies would be readied or disposed of after death, decides to speak aloud a concern she has.
"In regard to the Ustalavian priest, the demon summoner, I believe we should not handle his remains too closely and we should burn the body as soon as possible. There could have been all manner of unspeakable things conducted by the priest in life and we have no idea if some manner of dark magic will enable him to rise after death. I would not risk it, for the safety of all living things. In the manner in which we burn the priest's body, perhaps Khrovin knows the best method to do so, and if he requires aid then I shall assist him." Ry's words are uttered quietly and she solemnly approaches the place where Tiam's body lies and bows before the late kobold priest, honouring him for his life, courage and service. She speaks her own silent prayers, not wanting to offend the metallic kobolds by poorly worded sentiments.
"I shall dispose of this priest, as I believe I alone am covered already in his blood. I'll be back shortly, after this matter is settled. I would hate to see a Dark Priest and summoner of fiends raised from the dead, so i'll make sure there is nothing left to raise," Ka'etil volunteers grimly.
He walks over to the corpse, and unceremoniously picks up the gored remains and hefts them over his shoulder, walking quickly out of the fort.
He takes the body down-wind of the city, strips it of it's robes and valuables, save any holy symbols, which he piles on the man's chest. He covers it in oil, and ignites it with lightning, which springs forth from his fingertips.
He watches as the body burns, grimacing at the smell of burning flesh, but not looking away, or hiding his face from the smoke and stench, until the last flames flicker and die. Ten he approaches the body as the embers cool, and changes shape. Using claw and horn with strength born of a fury burning deep within, he tears the charred remains to pieces, rending flesh and shattering bone until only fragments remain.
Kae gathers them up, and takes them to the edge of the swamp-lands and scatters them, watching them sink into the muck, keeping an eye out for anything that inhabits of the swamp.
He then cleans himself and the robes, and items of the Priest, fixes his hair, and removes his elven finery (brought from home) from his pack and changes. Hauling his armor and the robes on his back.
Ka'etil returns some time later looking a new man, appearance impeccable. Clad in dark violet, almost black, silks trimmed with golden threads in intricate elven designs, and a long jacket, his favored sleeveless coat having been stowed, not a hair out of place, he sets his bag down, and and greets the others.
"The foul priest is utterly disposed of, nothing left to raise."
There are spells that can be used to make the bodies of the dead much harder to reanimate, although I would have to wait at least till the morning to be able to prepare any of them. In the meantime, the idea of burning the body till it is mere ash is usually enough to prevent most types of magic that would bring back a body from the dead.
I was planning on moving some of the equipment onto the cart and off. The trade goods didn't factor into the equations, but anything that isn't of immediate use was going to just be so much clutter
There are spells that can be used to make the bodies of the dead much harder to reanimate, although I would have to wait at least till the morning to be able to prepare any of them. In the meantime, the idea of burning the body till it is mere ash is usually enough to prevent most types of magic that would bring back a body from the dead.
I was planning on moving some of the equipment onto the cart and off. The trade goods didn't factor into the equations, but anything that isn't of immediate use was going to just be so much clutter
"Clutter now may become valuable tools when we settle this place, and too heavy cart may not be favorable with this terrain, until there are better roads."
:D
:D
We should probably send at least some of these materials to Olegs and find out about what is going on in the world around us. I will stay here if you wish me to to defend this place.
We should probably send at least some of these materials to Olegs and find out about what is going on in the world around us. I will stay here if you wish me to to defend this place.
"Khro, I would see our group stay together. In the past we have divided the party and it hasn't always gone well. I would see you ride with us to Oleg's come morning. The kobolds are capable and resourceful enough to defend this fortress in our absence."
"Khro, I would see our group stay together. In the past we have divided the party and it hasn't always gone well. I would see you ride with us to Oleg's come morning. The kobolds are capable and resourceful enough to defend this fortress in our absence."
We should probably send at least some of these materials to Olegs and find out about what is going on in the world around us. I will stay here if you wish me to to defend this place.
The risk that we take if we all go however is a large counter attack on this place. I have some basic healing skills as you well know, and would be able to help them defend this place if that is what it came down to. Ultimately I will go with what the group wishes, but I would not like to see us have to fight so hard to take this place back again.
The risk that we take if we all go however is a large counter attack on this place. I have some basic healing skills as you well know, and would be able to help them defend this place if that is what it came down to. Ultimately I will go with what the group wishes, but I would not like to see us have to fight so hard to take this place back again.
"You know my thoughts on this and if you choose to stay, then I shall respect your choice, Khro. I will wait to hear what the others have to say in regard to how many of us should ride to Oleg's." Ry grows quiet and thoughtful.
"You know my thoughts on this and if you choose to stay, then I shall respect your choice, Khro. I will await to hear what the others have to say in regard to how many of us will ride to Oleg's." Ry grows quiet and thoughtful.The risk that we take if we all go however is a large counter attack on this place. I have some basic healing skills as you well know, and would be able to help them defend this place if that is what it came down to. Ultimately I will go with what the group wishes, but I would not like to see us have to fight so hard to take this place back again.
Sorry Ariarh. It seems each time that you and I say something to one another, we butt heads like two male elk in mating season. You know I would like nothing more than to go to Oleg's post and sit and drink and have a single night where there is little to no responsibility. I would love to be able to share a blanket with you once more as we converse the night away and then go to our meditations with the dawn light. My worry is that we have no idea what is out there in the wilderness around us, and whilst the Kobolds do have some healing of their own, I have more of it. Alaric leads us, ultimately it is his call, but I would split us into two if it were me, knowing that the separation would only be very short.
Sorry Ariarh. It seems each time that you and I say something to one another, we butt heads like two male elk in mating season. You know I would like nothing more than to go to Oleg's post and sit and drink and have a single night where there is little to no responsibility. I would love to be able to share a blanket with you once more as we converse the night away and then go to our meditations with the dawn light. My worry is that we have no idea what is out there in the wilderness around us, and whilst the Kobolds do have some healing of their own, I have more of it. Alaric leads us, ultimately it is his call, but I would split us into two if it were me, knowing that the separation would only be very short.
Ariarh looks at Khrovin silently for a few seconds and as her cheeks redden from the embarrassment of his summation of their communication and relationship, she softly utters, "My apologies", and walks a little away from Khrovin and the others. Dior follows his mistress.
Ariarh looks at Khrovin silently for a few seconds and as her cheeks redden from embarrassment at his summation of their communication and relationship, she softly utters, "My apologies", and walks a little away from Khrovin and the others. Dior follows his mistress.
Khrovin looks at Ry and Dior slowly walking away. His heart slowly turning and twisting in his chest, he slowly reaches out one hand to Ariarh. He was without a clue as to what to do, having never before faced such a situation. His cheeks reddened, his eyes misted up slightly, and the weight of the world seemed heavier upon him. He had offended Ariarh, hurt her. The worst of it was, he had never intended to do so. What he had said was not meant to be something that was offensive, but rather in his mind just a flat statement of where they stood relative to each other. They did indeed seem to clash heads often, but it was never something that he had taken personally. Back in the temple, there were simply certain ways of doing things, and Ariarh evidently had different ways of thinking. He wanted so much to make things work between the two of them. Ariarh was an incredibly interesting woman, one that he felt himself to be falling in love with. That he was so brilliant at finding new and improved ways to hurt how she felt did nothing more than fill his heart with sorrow.
"I would much rather keep all in company and go to Oleg's. I'd also rather leave the weapons here, for they will make travel more tedious, and any who would and could take it would be well armed anyway, so may as well hasten travel and trust our compatriot Seti." Then we shall return faster, and decrease the likelihood that anyone would be able to take it," Ka'etil suggests.
some time after the conversation, Ka'etil approaches Alaric, and takes him aside quietly, as not to disturb anyone, and asks, [b]"Those boots you made, they let you move freely over the snow. Would you be able to craft for me some such boots that can allow me to move more easily and quickly when you are able? I am already fast, but believably so. I'd have an unexpected edge with even greater a pace. And I could leave Konur further from the fray."[/b] The half-elf reflects momentarily on the day's events. "Would that be within your power?" he straightens up and asks, looking at the Sorcerer intently.
[ooc]I have no problem with anyones gear selections so I think everyone can go ahead with them. Alaric isn't going to take anything as there isn't really anything he needs or can use. I would say let Adjt copy any spells he doesnt have from the damaged spellbook into his spellbook and then sell it with the rest.
Alaric looks at the interactions between the group and says Khro, your wanting to stay does you honor but in this case I am in agreement with Kae and Ry. I believe the Seti can hold for the time being and I would have you with us when we return to Oleg's with the news of the Stag Lord's defeat.
When Kae mentions riding fast Alaric agrees We should pack our horses and pack horses with what we can so that we can make the trip with all speed. After the news is delivered we can return for whatever else we want to bring to Oleg's for him to try and sell. Speed is the key here I think but I will abide by the groups consensus.
Khrovin looks at Ry and Dior slowly walking away. His heart slowly turning and twisting in his chest, he slowly reaches out one hand to Ariarh. He was without a clue as to what to do, having never before faced such a situation. His cheeks reddened, his eyes misted up slightly, and the weight of the world seemed heavier upon him. He had offended Ariarh, hurt her. The worst of it was, he had never intended to do so. What he had said was not meant to be something that was offensive, but rather in his mind just a flat statement of where they stood relative to each other. They did indeed seem to clash heads often, but it was never something that he had taken personally. Back in the temple, there were simply certain ways of doing things, and Ariarh evidently had different ways of thinking. He wanted so much to make things work between the two of them. Ariarh was an incredibly interesting woman, one that he felt himself to be falling in love with. That he was so brilliant at finding new and improved ways to hurt how she felt did nothing more than fill his heart with sorrow.
She had much to learn. Her parents made relationships look relatively easy; sure they had their occasional disagreements, but she never once saw her mother turn away, wounded by harsh words spoken from her father's lips. Ariarh never expected that she and Khrovin would agree on everything, but to have him say that he felt they disagreed more often than not, it wasn't an opinion she held nor a situation she realised had been transpiring with such frequency. A small seed of worry had now been sown in her head and heart. Aye, she had been voicing her opinions readily these past weeks, and more so since Khrovin joined the party. But it was due to a feeling of ease with her companions and those she placed her trust in. Ariarh wondered if she should practice reserve with Khrovin and the others in the future. Could she hold her tongue if there were pressing concerns or she had a different insight on a matter? And could she be with people who drove her to this mute compliance? Her forehead creased with the weight of her reflections and she shook her head as if to dispel tears she knew were near surfacing. She had been a fool moments before; to cry before her comrades would only make her seem all the more silly.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ariarh spied Khrovin extending his hand toward her. It seemed like long minutes had passed before she extended her own hand (but really it had only been mere seconds) and laid it atop his open palm. To be inflexible and unmoving did not seem right; could not right a wrong (as her father would say). She looked into Khro's blue eyes and saw shadows; the flickering of a sadness akin to her own. It caught at her heart and she pushed her own worries to the back for now. This was not the time to conduct such emotional intricacies. Yet, she had to admit the labyrinth of emotion was ready to draw her in if she gave herself over to it. Ariarh would have smiled to ease the divide, the apparent tension, but somehow a joyful, even peaceful smile was not readily at hand. So she did the only thing she could think of, pushing aside the worry of the impropriety of the action. She drew nearer to Khro and lifted his hand to her face and brushed his fingertips with her cheek. Ry did not want there to be an uncompromising distance between them, ever.
She had much to learn.
The tired knight takes off his helm, his sickly complexion slowly regaining color after the massive blood loss from the infernal wound. He shows straw-blond hair matted and covered in sweat and a mouth bloody from the battle. Nevertheless, the look out of his dark blue eyes is of relief and accomplishment.
Bronwyn Winter walks to Alaric's side and puts a gauntleted hand on his shoulder.
My brother.
He sighes heavily, trying to form up his thoughts. The absurdity of it all suddenly weighs in his mind, and he drops his shield in body and in mind.
Heh. They should be lead by a poet.
The horseman looks at Alaric's eyes, noticing the aristocratic features of his adopted brother's face. His own features are much more blunt and rough, scarred by sun, wind and dungeon. The horseman takes off his gauntlets.
The fact is, I am as lowborn as they come. My father is Bronos the stableman, and my mother is Gwynn the washerwoman of the late lord Ivan Petrov, bannerman of House Medvyed. I used to work in the stables, brushing horses and scooping horse dung from the floor. If not for my father's loyal service and courage beyond his station, I would be there still. I may wear mail and plate now, but there were days I would wear only ragged pants and cloth sacks about my feet.
Each phrase is punctuated by a metallic clack, as he removes one of the countless pieces of his armor.
I may know a bit of courtesy and kind words, but even after the many years squiring, I'm still more of a stablehand than a proper knight. I still bite my tongue, trying to remember to say "my lord" instead of "m'lord". So you see the troubles of the Petrov house, if the common workers of the castle chose me as their leader when they revolted and ran away from his cruelty. They should've chosen a poet or a nobleman, to whisper honeyed words in the ears of the lords begging for a place or work.
The coat of wool under the armor is caked with dried blood and sports a slash where the devil's spear blade found a weak point in the plate. He also removes that.
Instead, they chose me. And I lead they into running. Wasn't chivalrous nor particularly brave, but it either run or die. And so we came here. Almost a dozen hungry mouths led by the lamest excuse of a knight this south of Brevoy. And yet, you have given us haven and sanctuary. And you have freely given me loyalty and love. And even a name.
Finally standing with his chest covered by a thin and soaked-through white shirt, he looks at Alaric.
Our honor and destinies are forever entwined, brother, if not by blood but by deed.
Turning to the half-elf, Bronwyn offers:
Ka'etil, I hope you'll let me be your beacon if you're sailing on black waters. This sort of magic is not unlike a blackglass sword, thin and razor-sharp, but it can shatter and cut you into ribbons even as you wield it against your enemies. You are strong in mind and body both, but let me share your burden if it ever threatens to overwhelm you.
Kneeling next to the kobolds, he asks:
In the short time we've met, I have come to know you as a people of courage and determination unparalled by any other. In this, if not in stature, you are giants. I humbly offer myself at your service, to learn from the ways of honor and truth your people follow. It's been a long time since I've squired, and I still feel a little rusty from the years spent in the dungeon, but you'll find in me an eager and determined if not particularly smart student. Let me learn the truth of your history, the wisdom of your words and the power of your gods and you can ask for anything in return.
Ariarh, having listened to Sylvath and Adjt speak on the how the bodies would be readied or disposed of after death, decides to speak aloud a concern she has.
"In regard to the Ustalavian priest, the demon summoner, I believe we should not handle his remains too closely and we should burn the body as soon as possible. There could have been all manner of unspeakable things conducted by the priest in life and we have no idea if some manner of dark magic will enable him to rise after death. I would not risk it, for the safety of all living things. In the manner in which we burn the priest's body, perhaps Khrovin knows the best method to do so, and if he requires aid then I shall assist him." Ry's words are uttered quietly and she solemnly approaches the place where Tiam's body lies and bows before the late kobold priest, honouring him for his life, courage and service. She speaks her own silent prayers, not wanting to offend the metallic kobolds by poorly worded sentiments.
You can indeed hear it. If anyone also wishes to respond, they may also do so.
Sorry about late postings... Internet has been spotty...
More to come soon...
Stripping the saddle and bridle of Stybba, Brett proceeds to rub down his trusty steed, feeding the goodly beast some apples, and leaving him plenty of hay to munch on. When Stybba is comfortable and drowsy, Brett looks around the grounds and finds a heavy blanket, and throws it over the back of Stybba so that his pony will be comfortable in the chill from the rising winds.
The sounds of those same winds echo through the canyons, and the noise is both eerie and disturbing. In the distance though, you can hear the sound of beasts and birds from the wide range of swamps and marshes on the bottom of the northern cliffs. You are not sure what is down there, but it seems that it was a wise course to avoid the swamps and what mysteries lurked there and instead ride for the path.
Brett jogs quickly up the stairs and after moments he is now on the highest level, and free to look around.
He pulls out his spyglass and stares at the heavens for some time. It is the Ninth of Neth, and the quarter moon is waning. He glances about and watches the sky for some time, walking over the parapets examining the stone work; peering below to the canyon beneath.
Putting his spyglass aside, he pulls himself onto the edge of the cliff and is free to walk around a bit. Beyond the walls of the parapet the cliff itself stretches in a rather wide range to the south, but he does not wander far. It is extremely cold, slippery and windy. So, turning, he hops down, than moves down through the passageways until he is finally at the bottom of the stairs again, and comes to face the group.
The company is still talking and Brett watches the proceedings for some time, than gathers his gear and equipment, taking it by a warm place near the fire he kindled. There are large bundles of wood – nearly stacked out of the weather – and plenty of space to get comfortable by the fire. Indeed; there are skins of elk and bear lying about. Whoever furnished this place was well prepared for a cold winter.
Laying down, he snuggles under the pelts and stares at the ceiling for a while, than slowly drifts off into sleep.
In the early morning Brett rises before dawn and treads back to the top of the cliffs to watch the dawning. He has taken the cliffs on the south side, and there, he spends the morning for an hour, resting and in quiet meditation, thinking about the words that Sylvath told him the previous day, and what they meant, and more, perhaps. He considered his actions, and the way he lived and conducted himself, and attempted to decide if what he did was goodly or immoral, decent or foul. He considered the teachings of his family, and the lessons given to him by the Duke and his grand court, as well as the teachings and bits of lore that he had picked up from listening to others more learned in matters of history and knowledge.
Even as he does this, across from him, on the parapet on the northern side, the other kobolds have brought the body of their fallen brother. The northern side is less used then south; for it contains huge empty granaries and very little else on the first floor, while the south side has its fireplaces and other warm gear. Therefore, the north side is more private, more discreet, and gives their ally the chance to have what privacy he may need in the afterlife. Brett can see this ritual across the way, but does not interfere. It is, after all, their business.
He wonders, though, if any of his companions had attempted to witness the ceremony and offer any last words; and if so, what hey would be?
But he says nothing now, thinking rather on his next goal, and his next purpose – what he should do next, and how he should behave… Then, after his thoughts, he contents himself with his conclusions, then heads down the stairs and begins a quick breakfast.
In his pan he scoops a spoonful of lard from a jar and is soon frying up some venison sausages he found in the larder. Black bread and clotted cream soon accompany it, with a tall tankard of good beer to wash it down. Naturally, he makes enough for any who would join him; and though the kobolds do not eat the bread, they readily feast on the sausages.
By now the kobolds have returned from their duties on the northern wall and accept his breakfast gladly. Glaidus and Ryul lift their own tankards of beer with Brett, though Adjt sips sparingly from a tin cup of some mead – only Sylvath avoids the liquor at this time, drinking nothing but cool water. When they have finished their meal, Brett takes Stybba out from under the caves, and lifts the saddle over the mount, and cinches the straps.
”Hey, ho! Lads and lasses,” he says to all, stretching his arms above his head ”it be a fine morning and glorious new day. Fine way to start things off with all done explored proper and true, I say,” he adds with some gusto.
”Any case, I be thinking we be heading back to Oleg’s sooner then later. We need to be claiming this proper, and we also may be thinking o’ bringing back some o’ them folk at Oleg’s place. Must be getting right crowded fer the lad, eh? But fer now, I be saying we need some speed, just till we get things settled. Then, we bring back who we trust, and show them the once over.”
”Alaric lad, I be thinking on yer offer to be handing out part and parcel of acreage to them back at Oleg’s, eh? Well, that be fine and all… but how about instead ye give them room in this here place? See, way I figure it, ye give ‘em room here, then they got a reason to stay close and be helpful. And, if they done do something bad, why… it just be that easy to send ‘em packing. Land be harder to kick a lad off of, if he be doing something bad, is all.”
”And don’t be worrying, I got a few other plans fer good ol’ Oleg, if he’ll be agreeing to ‘em. But I’ll share ‘em with ye on the road. I reckon on keeping the kobolds here, as they can be guarding the gates and such, being that the gates be all smashed up. Mayhap they can fix it proper while we be gone? And as I be thinking on it, any o’ ye be taking gear to Oleg’s this cart’ll hold it. But nay too much, else it be slowing us proper. If we take the cart, I say toss in some wood, a few tents, animal skins and food fer Oleg’s people, as not all o’ ‘em may want to stay with us, and giving him food be a nice way o’ keeping the hands greased as were. Fer me, I got me goods, and be right full and proper. The ‘baccy’s all filled fer my pipe; and it be fair as Longbottom Leaf out of Southfarthing, or I've ne'er smoked 'afore! But I got some nice plans on this place, and others… ‘Course, I be liking to hear yer’s.”
”As I be hearing it, the folk in Brevoy be real friendly that we done did what we did about bandits and all… Mayhap we get a reward? If so, why, folk’ll come down and see us. When they do, what’ll we be saying to ‘em? That is, what be the plan? I mean, how we be introducing ourself’s?”
Brett looks like he is having trouble articulating himself, but then, after a moment, he seems to hit on it.
”Ah! So, if we be in the town we make, and a lad walks up and says: “Beg pardon sir – or lass – and who may ye be?” Why… one could say “Well, I be Alaric– man’s man, lady’s man – man about town” as it were…. Or he could be saying “I be Alaric, the mayor” or “I be Khrovin, the priest of Erestil” or something… I know we ain’t got’s kings and queens and dukes that be formal and all… or what not, but titles – as it were, and position and rank… well, it be giving a lad some form of respectability. And it make our folk seem more impressive to the lads that come by. Ye know, there be a huge difference between “Lord High General” and “Captain of the Watch” but then, even “Captain of the Watch” sounds better then “that lad o’er there by the tavern with a stern look on his face”, eh?”
Brett loads a sliver of tobacco quid into his mouth and begins to chomp on it.
”Oh yeah, that reminds me, Alaric lad… what ye want to do with the dragon lass ye finded? Should we take her with us, or have her wait here? I reckon the kobolds can watch her, and maybe everyone from Oleg’ll meet her soon enough… but there be lot’s o’ hash on the road twixt them and us… Could be safer to wait. What think ye? And while I’m at it, if we do decide to be leaving the wagon, mayhap we could send some o’ the kobolds with it to fetch the gear from the bandit camp by the river… There be a pestle of stuff there that we could take back, if ye’ll be agreeing on it, eh?”
Brett adds the last genially, spits once to the leeward and takes a swig from his hip flask.
The time is 9:00 AM. The day is Neth the Tenth. The Stag Lord is dead and all’s well…
Today Ka'etil rises with the sun, and hearing movement, he gets up and dressed, once again in his elven finery, and observes the funeral rites for Tiam. He is silent and stoic, not wanting to offend the Kobolds as he feels he often does...
After the rites, he follows them back in, and happily munches away at his breakfast, helping himself to a rare drink, feeling it and giggling, glad not to have any dwarves around to mock his non-existent tolerance.
He watches speak, and wonders how someone so small can ramble away so far, then stifles a giggle as he tries to imagine Brett running with his mouth somehow, and can't.
"Well, I for one wouldn't want to get kicked out for misbehavior. I hate it when that happens," Kae pipes in, then muses to himself silently for a few moments, before returning his attention to the Halfling.
When the little man finishes, Kae emphatically agrees, "Yes, I would like to quickly return to Oleg's as quickly as possible and not carry around all sorts of extra weight, but supplies for the people at Oleg's minus what we'll need here will be good to bring to the camp and things Oleg could easily sell, or use, like skins, and Trapper's Kits. Yes. We shoudl bring things that we want to leave there, and won't need here so we don't have to make two trips." Kae stops talking before he further looses track of what he's talking about.
Kae contemplates the idea of a title, suspecting one like "Malas'rae" would not go over too well. "I've never had a title before, not a good one, anyway. Think we can afford to spend our time on the road chatting about it, hammer out responsibilities, cause I'd people to expect me to do things like manage money or something..." HE looks perplexed a the mere thought of calculations.
Kae thinks about what they've found for a while, and is clearly counting, then says "Maybe we leave the cart for the Seti, perhaps they will be able to rebuild the gate and collect supplies and such from the other' bandit's camp. We can just load up a horse with the Trappers kits, one or two with wood, and one or two with rations and bedding?" He shrugs not too sure about what to carry or weight of things...
From an ingrained routine, Ariarh awakes just before dawn so she can carry out her morning ministrations and then meditations. She had slept somewhat fitfully last night but managed to gain some rest from basic tiredness and the warmth of the fire and pelts. Pouring water into a bowl, Ry washes her face, splashing the cool liquid across her eyes to fully waken. She takes brush to her long hair to comb the knots out and braids it afresh. She finds a discreet corner to change into clean, warm clothes. Dior is waiting for her, wide eyed and eager to head outdoors.
*
After concluding her hourly meditations, Ariarh makes her way to the place the Seti clan have designated for Tiam's funeral rite. She stands just off to the side and bears quiet witness to the process, so strange and different from any she is accustomed to. In soft prayer, she entreats,"I call on the Light, I call to the Lord and the Lady, I call to the four corners of the Earth, Embrace the spirit of our fallen companion, Strengthen this circle and let the power grow." She bows her head and walks soberly back to the main hall and to where Brett is cooking breakfast. She takes some of the bread and two sausages (one for her and one for Dior) he has prepared and pours a cup of water, sits down, feeds her griffon the tasty sausage and begins eating her food silently. Listening to Brett and Kae speak, she ponders briefly before quietly speaking, "Aye, talking out our ideas and responsibilities seems wise as we ride to Oleg's. I can only identify myself as the resident druid, perhaps assistant healer, giving aid to Khrovin as principal healer. Still...I have things I still have to learn and thoughts on what to do with the swamp area that once was a thriving water channel. There is much to do and many plans to make."
Once she finishes her meal, Ariarh will stand and make her way over to her sleeping place, collect and pack her things and begin readying herself for their ride to Oleg's.
1st Level Spells: Cure Light Wounds, Entangle, Magic Stone and Produce Flame.
2nd Level Spells: Flaming Sphere, Bark Skin and Bull Strength. (Can spontaneously cast and drop a spell and replace with Summon Nature's Ally II.)
Plus, the usual class and racial abilities and domain spells.
@ Bron: No one could ask for a better brother. You do me more honor than you know. I am proud to have you at my side. Alaric blinks back the tears that seek to well up at the exchange.
Alaric wakes in the morning and marvels at all that this small band of friends and companions has managed to accomplish over the past months. After getting himself ready in his nicest clothing, an outfit of black breeches and doublet slashed with deep purple, Alaric goes to the funeral of Tiam. The ceremony is beautiful in its simplicity. Alaric puts up a fervent prayer to the gods to watch over Tiam and see the purity of the kobolds spirit.
After the ceremony, when Brett makes his suggestions Alaric will respond A place here for the people sounds like it might make sense Brett. We shall put it to the people and see what they think but I believe they will find the arrangement satisfactory. As far as titles, that is an excellent idea. It will make it easier to organize and helps to give responsibility while we start our fledgling society. I will think on it and give suggestions as I hope you all do as well. One thing I will say is that names have power so think carefully and know that there is going to be a certain expectation of power for us now that we have taken down the Stag Lord who has terrorized the area. That will give a certain celebrity quality to us and we need to make sure we do not overplay our actions but also that we do not downplay them either. People will see hope in us and we need to nurture that hope and that needs to come across in the titles and names we present. I say this not for some false sense of vanity but knowing that symbols are important and like it or not, we will be symbols now.
"Please pardon my eaves-dropping, but I could not help but overhear. You may suggest that your people would have been better served by a poet, but how often does the shean of a silver tongue exist to hide a sour soul, like the fair speaking ustalavians. You are a true and honest man, with the best interests of your people at heart, and you. Have found yourself a brother who's mouth must hide hives upon hives of bees for all the honey that drips from his tongue, and he will speak for you. So worry not about your lack of knightly etiquate, as you have honor greater than many a knight I have seen during my wandrings."