"Alright look, we will all come with you to Whiterook to meet your battle chief, but we need to hire out one of you to stay with our ship and guard it while we go. You're obviously excellent border guards - let us pay one of you to stay with our ship and guard it. I'll pay the man who stays 5 gold pieces now; I'll pay the other man 5 gold pieces on our safe return. You don't need both of you to get us to Whiterook, and this way you can both make some money while you do your sworn duty."
The guards look at each other, finally the inspector one, addresses the leader one. Don't look at me! I got muddy boots, I need to go back to the hut to dry um out! The leader scowls at his comrade and says to Craggark, OK I'll do it. But, I want all the gold up front. I've no guarantee Halvor, doesn't just decide your Irrisen spies and have you all killed. So I'll take what ye've promised now, r ye can forget about it! He says it with such a satisfied smirk, it makes you want to punch him.
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"Fine. Just make sure our boat is here as we left it when we get back. I wouldn't want to have to claim weregild for damaged property when we return."
Craggark turns to Faenethor.
"Master Bookkeeper, we will need access to our mercantile fund. I only have 8gp of our petty expenses funds on hand."
Once Craggark has 10gp in hand, he'll approach the bossy one.
"I'll be sure to let your leader Halvor know of how honourably you've watched our ship for us."
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"So, we are asking a man who just might be a river pirate to guard our boat and cargo while his friend leads us off into the woods to a place where the rest of his pirate buddies are waiting?
In exchange for this favor, we are giving him all of our gold up front?
Just want to make sure I have the story straight. Sounds like a great plan so far."
Jawhar will toss 2 gold to Craggark.
"So, we are asking a man who just might be a river pirate to guard our boat and cargo while his friend leads us off into the woods to a place where the rest of his pirate buddies are waiting?
The leader stares daggers at Jawhar and says to Craggark,Tämä on valikoima kokoojan lempirunoja Risto! eikä sitä pidä käsittää laajana eikä kuvaavana valikoimana Rasan runotuotannosta Risto.
Without another word he snatches the gold out of Craggark's hand and moves toward the boat. The other declares it's time to get moving and the group follows. Haltani, is always near Jamir or Craggark and doesn't speak the entire trip. You pass through the stand of fir trees that parallels the river.
Another 1/2 hour travel brings you to a more open rolling hill type of terrain. The snow is about a foot deep so Jamir and the Dwarves slow the party considerably. After another 1/2 hour travel you come upon a stand of birch trees near a spring. It doesn't take a trackers skill to recognize the abundant fresh humanoid tracks leading to and from the copse of trees.
The village of Whiterook sits against a tall cliff wall. A line of
close-growing birch trees and tangle of vines shield the village,
acting as a natural palisade. One of the larger birches bears a
carved bird, which lends the village its name. In the center of the
village, a massive fire pit sits stocked with timbers and dry brush
as if ready for a massive bonfire.
Several humanoid bodies hang naked in the trees outside the palisade. Hanging next to them is the skinned corpse of what
appears to be a bear-sized wolf.
Jamir and Torvald (being in close proximity to her) both hear Haltani murmur;
The guard leads the PCs into Whiterook, their small but well defended village. The people here look tough, worn down by the harsh lands and the proximty to Irrisen. While going about their daily chores, they give your group wary looks, especially Faenethor. As the party is lead toward center of the village they pick up an escort of sorts. Men and women begin to drop what they're doing and follow the group at a distance.
By the time the group reaches a large fire pit where a few large timbers still smolder their is a large group of citizens and warriors surrounding them. One of the citizens runs into the largest looking lodge of the settlement and returns following a tall man with massive muscles, long blond hair, and a thick beard, whose face bears numerous battle scars. He walks with a brisk authoritative gait and proceeds strait up to Craggark.
Before he speaks, the guard that escorted you back whispers in the apparent leader's ear. What dangerous substance does my man speak of? Who are you and why are you heading to Irrisen? You speak now to Halvor, of the Whiterook lodge, if you've plans of deceiving me think twice. You'd not like the price, we offer oath breakers here.
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Abadar, settle my hand.
"I am Craggark Frostkin of the Miusunnit. I hail from Aaminiuit, renowned across the Crown of the World for our ice peppers. My mother is Honourable Irikh Stonyfish, Elder Speaker for our People."
Craggark takes a deep breath and stares unflinchingly into the Ulfen brute's eyes.
"I see you, Housecarl Halvor, and you are correct. We had plans to deceive."
The half-orc takes a pause, half-expecting his head to come off his shoulders at that moment.
"Our mission is to cross into Irrisen and right the wrongs of centuries past, when the ice witches and Baba Yaga herself slaughtered their ---"
---here Craggark points at Torvald and Tusk---
"---ancestors and erased the town of Naldak's Point from the map. Naldak's Point, a dwarven artisan village founded by Naldak, son of the dwarven emperor---"
The half-orc appears to be searching his brain for a name. Finding none, he returns to his narrative:
"---and hidden from the world for hundreds of years. And then we come to the border of Irrisen, and warriors harry and halt our ship without identifying that they are proud Linnorm housecarl like I am, and so we assume that they are skulking Irriseni, sent to prevent us from completing our mission to find evidence of Naldak's Point, and we deceive, for who would wish for the eyes of Baba Yaga to be cast upon them?"
The half-orc's eyes are locked with Halvor.
"I am a proud warrior of the Miusunnit, and yet I do not wish for that attention. We, my colleagues and I, we would wish to travel to Dalun, the closest known place to where Naldak's Point once sat, and attempt to trade with the locals as a cover so that we might locate the ruins of the dwarven village, under centuries of ice and snow, and bring glory to the dwarven lineage lost therein once more. And when the dwarven rulers hear of the location of the previously-lost village of Naldak's Point, they will also hear of the honourable people of Whiterook who aided the expedition, and one wonders what favours the thanks of a dwarven king might be."
Craggark motions towards Torvald.
"This is Torvald Stonecask. He is a gifted alchemist. He bears in his pack an alchemical tool that allows us to burrow through the ice and snow to the ruins beneath. I will let him explain it better to you than I - for he speaks and understands Common, contrary to what we told your soldier previously."
And Craggark finally shuts up.
You are a complete idiot.
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The leader stares daggers at Jawhar and says to Craggark
Jawhar does not back down from the stare. He crosses his arms and stares back. He is used to being treated with politeness and a small amount of deference. This outright rudeness from the strange men and the inexplicable reactions of his teammates has set him on edge.
Really, Jawhar? Questioning their honour out loud in front of their faces?
Jawhar feels Craggark's glare and glances at him.
Yes, Father always said to treat rudeness with more politeness. That is the mark of civilization. My outburst was unseemly.
Still, someone needs to explain what is going on sometime soon.
In response, Jawhar uncrosses his arms and changes his expression from a challenge to simply a look of disapproval.
As they trudge through the snow, Jawhar can't help but get more and more uneasy. Seeing the bodies hanging on the outskirts of the village changes that to outright alarm, and his hand now rests on the hilt of his scimitar. His neck and shoulders form into a tight knot, expecting an arrow in the back at any moment.
As Craggark begins to speak, Jawhar finally begins to understand. Ah, so Craggark knows of these people and expects this kind of treatment. This truly is a strange world that we live in.
I am glad that we have someone familiar with the locals to handle the discussion.
As the speech goes on Jawhar gains a new level of admiration for the man who had previously seemed so uncouth and uncivilized. Still, would it hurt these people to be just a little polite?....
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"Ah...Hm." Faenethor raises a finger and opens his mouth to say something but no words come. He's rather befuddled that Craggark offered such a diplomatic introduction and entreaty, seemingly from thin air. He instead clasps his hands at his waist and bows his head deferentially as Craggark addresses Halvor.
My very first mission. Will I end up skinned like the dire wolf? Maybe I was better off in Korvosa, afterall.
With the mention of Dalun Halvor's head snaps to attention. He turns to one of his men and orders, Go get some of the raiders things. Halvor then calls Thorvald forward and ask, is what the half-breed says true? What do you carry in your sack?
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Torvald scans the village and it's inhabitants carefully, counting, Don't care for these odds, best not to start any fights. As the Housecarl mentions the price of oath-breaking he suppresses a snort. Threaten all you like, northman, we've sworn you no oaths. Stepping forward at the chieftain's request, he addresses the man in Skald.
"He told you true, and got the broad strokes right. If you care to hear the longer version I'll be pleased to oblige. This pack contains blackfire clay, an alchemical substance that can generate impressive heat when properly activated. Our intention is to employ it to melt our way though the ice to reach the ruins of my people's long-lost hold."
Throughout the exchange, the dwarf tries to keep his gauntleted hand free, though he is careful not to reach towards his bandolier with it. Many speak of honor, Housecarl, I sincerely hope that you walk with it. I'm in no mood to die, or kill, this day.
Halvor leans over to, casually peek inside Torvald's ruck-sack. He paces around, picks up a stick, and begins to stir the embers in the pit. He sits quietly for a moment. There is a hush in about the camp. You hear a dog bark in the distance. He spares your a group a glance; *worry*, *pity*, *sorrow*, mark his face? Going into Irrisen expecting anything but death is folly. Ice and pain await you there; even if you live, you will have lost much by going there. Turn back. Abandon whatever fool’s errand has sent you.
After a slew of objections from your group members, Halvor holds his hand up to quench your dissent. I know you think you're on a mission of peace but, hear me. I know of Dalun and their claims of peace. I believed those claims myself, up until the last moon. They sent envoys to talk of trade, but as we were about to let them in, we were attacked by winter wolves, ice trolls, and a dozen Jadwiga soldiers. He spits on the ground before continuing. We slew enough of them to scare them off, but lost many good warriors. I just wished we had captured that Jadwiga witch while she was here, but she vanished into the night.
Halvor looks to the east.We've ships of our own. I'll have a dozen warriors escort you back to Kalsgard. I'd not want the Dwarven Clans or the Miusunnit representatives harmed in lands under my care. Unless...unless you were willing to listen to another alternative?
A moment later, the man Halvor sent to fetch "the raiders things", returns with a bundle of bloodstained uniforms, scabbards, buckles, and other equipment. Halvor tells his man, to distribute it among members of your group to inspect. Several of your group rummages through the equipment. Although none of you are familiar with the particular insignia stamped on several pieces; Faenethor, does recall that there is another Irrisen settlement not far from Whiterook, Saarbotten. Faenethor also recalls that, each Irriseni settlement has it's own forces and acts independent of the others.
As the party inspects the uniforms Halvor lifts his voice in order for all to hear. You could go back to Kalsgard and my warriors will escort you there. However, if your mission is really so urgent, let us help one another! My warriors demand retribution. We will go with you to Dalun, acting as your caravan guards. Once outside the city’s walls, we’ll attack. After that, you can continue on your way without the threat of Dalun at your backs!
Haltani is no longer silent, NO!! You can't do that! All eyes turn toward her sudden outburst. Realizing the attention brought to herself, she lowers her voice and says meekly, I mean there must be a more peaceful solution
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"Respected Elder, we cannot even begin to consider a request of vengeance without knowing for certain that the people of Dalun are responsible for the attack you experienced.
We are outsiders, here, and have little knowledge of the patterns and insignia of Irrisen locales. Can you please point out for our uneducated eyes what proves that these uniforms came from Dalun?"
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I am for whatever approach does the job. These guys are clearly experts that know more than us and if they think violence is the answer, then we use violence on the people of Dalun. And these people we are with are good warriors As Tusk says this seriously, not sarcastically. And he says good warriors with pride and enthusiasm.
Haltani,(mouth agape) looks shocked at Tusk's suggestion. And what about the rest of you?! She challenges, hands on her hips. Are you all so eager for blood?
"Respected Elder, we cannot even begin to consider a request of vengeance without knowing for certain that the people of Dalun are responsible for the attack you experienced.
We are outsiders, here, and have little knowledge of the patterns and insignia of Irrisen locales. Can you please point out for our uneducated eyes what proves that these uniforms came from Dalun?"
Halvor looks annoyed at being question. They were Irriseni! I can cut one down if you need a closer look Haltani winces. Halvor's voice raises as he continues. Dalun lies up the river a mere 6 leagues from here! They lulled us with their talk of peace! Who else could it be? No my southern friend; looks like a dog, smells like a dog, must be a dog says I!
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"I think, Housecarl, you have presented us with two alternatives. I would ask for time and perhaps an ale with which we can decide our course of action as a team."
Here, Craggark fixes Tusk with a glare.
This one needs to have a talk in confidence before airing his mind.
"Haltani, we shall talk together as a team."
Craggark moves to attempt to draw his crew together in a huddle.
My opinion was already well stated, I think. They have presented no evidence that these people came from Dalun.
Leading them to Dalun to commit acts of violence is not an option.
We can try to find out where these attackers came from.
Haltani nods in satisfaction. And what about you Jamir and Torvald, you've both been pretty quiet. Where do you stand?
"I think, Housecarl, you have presented us with two alternatives. I would ask for time and perhaps an ale with which we can decide our course of action as a team.
Halvor studies Craggark for a moment then cracks a smile.You will dine in my Hall tonight! a few subdued cheers usher forth from the crowd I'll tell my men to relive the man standing watch on your boat and quadruple guard, with some of my best men! That way, we'll be sure no one makes off with your vessel.. Halvor, winks knowingly. Take your time deciding, and tell me this evening your decision, when you dine at my table. In the mean time, I'll have my people assign a lodge of your own so you can speak (with each other) over a fire and hearth.
Halvor signals for a couple of his men to show you to your quarters.Until this evening! Halvor offers as you're being lead away. You're taken to an large vacant log house. One of the guards shakes his head sadly and walks away after showing you the way. The other lingers, This was shield maiden Briska's lodge and her betrothed Erik Wineguard. They were both killed, in last weeks attacks The brutal Ulfen warrior looks at you all, moisture in his eyes. Treat their home with honor, or the Gods will know.. The man stalks away muttering vengeful curses directed at Irrisen.
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Raiders? But if there were raiders attacking here, what must be happening to our boat?
Jamir shakes his head slowly. "My good Housecarl, believe me when I tell you, I am not one to turn away from a plan because it seems half-baked! I am a halfling with a sword, trying to sail a boat into a land of winter witches, filled with frost giants and ice trolls and white dragons and malevolent children of the First World, pretending to be a trader of knick-knacks. I understand unlikely plans! My entire life is an unlikely plan!
"This plan, though. This plan ... is terrible. This will never work. You want to pretend to be caravan guards, wearing uniforms from city forces? A different city's troops? Are the military forces of Irrisen hiring themselves out as mercenaries now?
"Let me give you an example. Perhaps I have a friend, who when he was a small boy - a very small boy - he occasionally may have done things that might cause the city guard to chase him. These were large, foul-tempered men with indifferent hygiene, but they wore very fancy uniforms. There were not very many of them, because although taxes were high in this boy's city, the city fathers had many pockets that needed to be filled before they worried about paying the guard. So - and this is important - the guards all knew each other. Putting on a uniform and pretending to be a guard would have worked for just up to the moment someone actually saw you.
"Yes, yes, I understand, you are all very tall, and very strong, and very brave, and perfectly willing to charge into the land of the witch queens, where the awful weather and the nasty evil fey and giants and ice trolls and the gods-damn-them-all witches will rip you - and us - to pieces before we get within spitting distance of Dalun."
The halfling kicks one of the dead raiders' breastplates. "I am sure that if we do not agree to this incredibly terrible plan, you will shortly cut our throats and hang us from the trees as a lesson to others. I have to tell you, if you do, I do not think you will have many other visitors to learn the lesson. As for me, I will see what my friends have to say, but perhaps you should just kill us now, and then yourselves, and save the witches the trouble of killing all of us."
He shakes his head again. "Really, those are just the worst disguises. Believe me, if it were so simple to just put on a uniform and trick people into believing you belonged in it, I would not have had to leave Magnimar so quickly. And how could you even be sure that the raiders had not stolen this equipment from someone else?
"No, Housecarl, if you want to sneak into Irrisen in disguise, you would have to..."
After listening to Jawhar and Craggark, and noticing Haltani's approval, Jamir sighs and nods as well, "I suppose that is reasonable. But I still think we could have gotten them all into Dalun if we had them dress up as though they were a wedding party and they were late for the ceremony. We can try it" he shudders for a moment "the easy way."
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"No, Housecarl, if you want to sneak into Irrisen in disguise, you would have to..."
The half-orc interrupts Hamstring's abolitionism.
"I think, Housecarl, you have presented us with two alternatives. I would ask for time and perhaps an ale with which we can decide our course of action as a team."
"You will dine in my Hall tonight!..."
"A warm meal and an ale would be well-met on such a cold night. We thank you for your hospitality."
The half-orc walks with his band and the battle chief's guard to the lodge of the fallen Wineguards with a smile on his face. Once the party is left alone to talk, the smile disappears, and he growls.
"What in the Worldwound is going on? I thought that we were a team! I thought we had come up with our plan! I thought we were being ambushed by Irriseni border guards! I can blame myself for not recognising the insignia of Whiterook or the Southmoor people, but by Rovagug's loin cloth, I am not getting into a fight with my own country's people on my first Pathfinder mission - and my country is FRIENDLY with the Pathfinder Society!"
He takes out his waterskin and attempts to squeeze some liquid from the quite clearly frozen leather - unsuccessfully. Disgusted, he throws the skin down and responds.
"Well we could have possibly done that, but one of us decided---"
The half-orc calms at the kind words.
"You're right, of course. There's no point in salting the meat after it has been placed in the stew, so they say. We need to act as a group, of one mind, and decide things together."
Craggark addresses the moustachioed dwarf.
"Tusk, our mission is to find the lost piece of the Sky Key, but Venture-Captain Benarry also told us that we're supposed to make connections with the people of Dalun and keep the few friends that we have there. I can't say letting angry barbarians loose upon their city would complete that portion of our mission. Hamstring, the same. Unfortunately, Halvor wants blood payment for the ambush. I'm surprised that he hasn't mentioned weregild - I wonder if the Dalun people would consider paying weregild for the warriors that they killed." Here, Faenethor clears his throat loudly.
The half-orc blinks multiple times, a dull look on his face. "Did you say that those militia uniforms came from Saarbotten? Are you sure about that, Fayneethor?
The half-orc replies: "Let me see if I have this straight. Halvor and the Whiterook folk are talking to Dalun, across the Irrisen border, about setting up a trading deal. They set a date to finalise the plans in Whiterook, and Saarbotten militia led by a jadwiga show up and ambush the party?? Why would they do that? Does that make sense to anyone else? Is it possible that Saarbotten wants Dalun overrun by barbarians? Fayneethor or Haltani, do you know any more?
(if possible to his Knowledge Local check)
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"I am sincerely sorry for the loss of your kin, Chieftain, and I pray the gods will give you justice. But while I would be willing to act as a neutral intermediary between your clan and Dalun, I won't agree out of hand to help the first group I meet attack the second. You're a man of honor, you understand."
Once safely in the privacy of their lodgings the alchemist growls angrily. "That was a bit of a hash, wasn't it? Going forward, we should perhaps bear in mind that a plan is like an alchmemical brew, the fewer steps required the fewer chances for things to go wrong!"
Dropping his pack to the floor, he yanks off his gauntlet as well. "And I'm not playing along with any revenge schemes, 'rope in the outlander' is one of the oldest tricks in the book!"
As Faenethor relates the information on the insignia, Torvald's eyebrows knit together in thought. "What game is Halvor at...are we supposed to believe that he wouldn't recognize the town insignia of the next town over from Dalun? Is he convinced it's a trick? Wearing another's uniforms is another old trick... Alright, here's my proposal: we refuse to help Halvor's clansmen attack Dalun, but we counteroffer by agreeing to look for evidence of their perfidy while carrying out our Pathfinder duties, including whether this Saarbotten might be playing them both."
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Jamir sailed the Steaming Sea and Varisian Gulf for years. Although he never picked up enough Skald to be comfortable with the language, he certainly met his share of Linnorm-landers, and Irriseni escapees as well. From stories heard in dockside taverns, longshoremen hauling cargo onto and off of ships, and the occasional passenger, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of the political setup in Irrisen.
"It is not that I am so eager for a fight! My point was simply that if they were going to insist on being smuggled into Dalun, they would be far more convincing as a bride and groom and some of the celebrants. We could even hide the others in a large cake! But if we are avoid bringing a score of angry barbarians along with us at all - and when I put it that way, not bringing them along sounds like a really good idea, although I am surprised the rest of you are not more interested in having more arms for the rowing - then we need to consider the local politics. Here is what I know about the area:[....]"
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are we supposed to believe that he wouldn't recognize the town insignia of the next town over from Dalun?
"You make an excellent point, Torvald. He certainly should have recognized the insignia.
Perhaps we can infer from this information that it is not actually the insignia of Saarbotten. So, it would seem some research needs to be done.
We need to find out two things. Where did the uniforms come from and where did the raiders come from?
For the former question, Saarbotten might be a good place to start. Irriseni might be better able to tell us where the insignia is from.
As for where did the raiders come from, that would be best answered by following the raiders tracks. I am honestly surprised that these Ulfen have not already done so. They must have some excellent trackers within this settlement."
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Tusk says to the group in private when no pirates, barbarians or anyone else is around or within earshot listening.
Haltani purses her lips and considers Craggark for a second. She glares at Tusk and waves her hand dismissively at him, then she says, Craggark has the right of it. We cannot be the provocateurs of more bloodshed. We must convince this ..this..HalvorHaltani pauses to catch her breath. Yes we must convince Halvor to abandon this madness. Or at very least to send an emissary to Dalun to get to the bottom of this ordeal.
Haltani places her self in the center of the room, and turns to each member of the group individually, whilst making her case.Because, violence is always the last resort. Further escalation of this situation serves neither Whiterook, Dalun, or the Pathfinder society. She ends her speech eyes resting firmly on Tusk.
Haltani turns her eyes on Jawhar and Craggark. When you speak with the Housecarl tonight I will do my best to aid you in the path of peace by sharing what I know of the citizens of Dalun.
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"More unjustified bloodshed will not help resolve this situation. It will only help to expand it.
I can live with justified bloodshed, but I can't go along with that unless we know for certain where these raiders came from.
I am happy to go along with any other peaceful solution, but I think investigating this other town and following the tracks would be the best course of action.
With help, and with our pledge to assist once we have investigated, I am sure we can convince Halvor to cool his bloodlust for a couple of days."
Jamir sailed the Steaming Sea and Varisian Gulf for years. Although he never picked up enough Skald to be comfortable with the language, he certainly met his share of Linnorm-landers, and Irriseni escapees as well. From stories heard in dockside taverns, longshoremen hauling cargo onto and off of ships, and the occasional passenger, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of the political setup in Irrisen.
[dice=Knowledge (local)] 1d20 + 5
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"More unjustified bloodshed will not help resolve this situation. It will only help to expand it.
I can live with justified bloodshed, but I can't go along with that unless we know for certain where these raiders came from.
I am happy to go along with any other peaceful solution, but I think investigating this other town and following the tracks would be the best course of action.
With help, and with our pledge to assist once we have investigated, I am sure we can convince Halvor to cool his bloodlust for a couple of days."
Um, pardon but when I said, Saarbotten was close by Dalun, what I meant was it was one of the closest Irriseni settlements to Dalun. Not that it was actually near in proximity. You see Saarbotten is 70 miles away! We past near it while sailing up the Thundering river over a week ago! Faenethor pauses a moment to tap his chin, clear his throat. Yes I believe, even if we were able to track these raiders through fresh fallen snow, and even if they did originate from Saarbotten. Faenethor pauses for a moment as he picks up an Irrisena matryoshka doll, off a nearby shelf and inspects it; facinating.. he mumurs. Seeing him distracted,ut..um..Haltani clears her throat.
Faenethor snaps back to reality. Oh yes...where was I .. Haltani answers,Saarbotten, the raiders? Faenethors eyes light up again with recognition. Yes of coarse, the most likely route, of a raid, on Whiterook from Saarbotten, would be through Dalun! Faenethor snaps his fingers in triumph. Haltani, again looks shocked. What do mean? Dalun and Saarbotten, colluded to raid Whiterook?! Faenethor waves his hand dismissively. No , no...nothing so complicated nor nefarious. It simply makes sense. Irrisen is a land where monsters roam freely yes?So there would be no suspicion if trolls and winter wolves accompanied a regular trade delegation between Saarbotten and Dalun would there? Haltani thinks for a moment, No..no I guess there wouldn't she concedes. It's simple then, If Saarbotten attacked Whiterook they probably went to Dalun first to resupply or just to sow confusions or both! Faenethor says with an eager smile. Therefore, even if we can follow two day old tracks through fresh snow, I suspect they will lead strait back to Dalun!
Faenethor still somewhat engaged with the doll looks up to see a mixture of shock and disappointment on nearly everyone's face.What did I say? He ask innocently, it's just a theory, as likely or un-likely as any other? Faenethor puts down the doll and walks over to a chair to sit down. What did I say? Of coarse you wouldn't hike 70 miles through the snow, to attack a fringe outpost, without stopping by a nearby friendly outpost...Is it the way I said it....?
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Jamir listens to Haltani, with his head cocked to one side, and watches her listen to Craggark, Jawhar, and the others. He has not forgotten the way she diverted him on the boat when he asked what had been troubling her.
Nothing she says is inappropriate or should give me cause for suspicion, and yet... She is skittish when there is no need for concern, and commanding when I would most expect her to be retiring. And I cannot recall her answering any of the questions put to her about her own background.
Or I am a fool who is creating conspiracies as an excuse to stare at a beautiful woman. He jumps off the bench he had been resting on and begins to stretch out his legs by the fire.
"Peaceful persuasion it is. It is always good to try new things, is it not, my friends?"
Later that evening, when the group is speaking to Halvor, Faenethor get's up and clears is voice. Um, good sir..er..Housecarl I mean. You are mistaken to believe that only one possibility could present itself to your present circumstance. Graviloni's law of psycho-analytical analysis states that, there are may possible out....uh hey! Faenethor protest, as Haltani pulls him back into his chair.What the good elf is trying to say Housecarl, is with Irriseni, the most obvious, is often a trick or diversion Halvor and many other heads nod in agreement. If it pleases the Housecarl, continue to listen to master Jawhar's reasoning.
Faenethor *sniffs*, as he dabs wine from his lapel. No need to be rude Haltani, I was getting there! Haltani puts her finger to her lip. Shhhh..shut up and listen..
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Craggark's brow has remained furrowed for most of the afternoon as the party slowly teases out their decision.
"So, the raiders could have come from Dalun, but they could have come from Saarbotten THROUGH Dalun. And per your words, Fayneethor, Dalun and Saarbotten would not necessarily act independently, and in fact, might be opposed to one another because the jadwiga ruling the two towns hate each other AND in fact, Dalun might be actually open to trading, but Saarbotten most definitely is not and is well-known for raiding and pillaging and nonsense like that."
The half-orc splashes water under his arms and gives a curt "Hoo!" to the icy coldness.
"And unfortunately, we wouldn't be able to track the band because those tracks would lead straight back through Dalun, regardless of their origin. So how do we investigate where these raiders came from? Are we so completely sure that they didn't come from Dalun?"
Craggark listens closely to the Sarenrite.
"With help, and with our pledge to assist once we have investigated, I am sure we can convince Halvor to cool his bloodlust for a couple of days."
"I think you have it correct, but I fear that this is beyond my meagre means to talk through. You're a man of a righteous god, yes, Jawhar? Perhaps your righteous words would lend some wisdom to the bloodlust of Halvor and his clan. Perhaps we could convince him to send one or two of his warriors with us to poke around before unleashing their fury. I will back you up with my translation of your words into the home-tongue of the gathered people, and perhaps, just perhaps, Abadar and Sarenrae will see us balance their hearts to a wiser path."
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Later that evening, Craggark speaks to Halvor and the gathered dinner audience, first in Skald, and then in Common.
"Jeg er en stolt kriger; Jeg er ikke vores taler, for mine gaver er i mine arme, ikke mit sind. Jeg vil lade vores kloge Jawhar præsentere vores plan for at hjælpe dig. Jawhar, du har mit skjold."
"I am a proud warrior; I am not our group speaker, for my gifts are in my arms, not my mind. I will let our wise Jawhar present our plan to help you. Jawhar, you have my shield."
As Jawhar begins to speak, the half-orc uses a particularly expressive form of Skald (complete with chest-beating and facial expressions) to highlight the points made:
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Jawhar and the rest of the crew sit down for the rest of the afternoon and discuss how to present their arguments in the best light. There is much back and forth. Craggark and Haltani provide reccomendations on how to reach the hearts of the noble warriors. Faenethor and Torvald give advice on how to direct the flow of the speech itself. Jamir reminds everyone that is will be the emotional element that will truly touch the Housecarl and alter his thinking. Tusk tries not to help, but his occaisional jabs and criticisms expose holes in the planning that help to sew up the edges.
Once the speech has been outlined, Jawhar heads up to the sleeping chambers to pray for guidance from Sarenrae.
When the time for the feast comes, Jawhar tries to be as sociable with the Ulfen as possible, but his stomach is tied in knots and he eats but little. His polite refusals when offered alcohol serve only to set off how much of an outsider he is in this setting and he knows that this speech may be the hardest bit of healing he has ever attempted.
"I am a proud warrior; I am not our group speaker, for my gifts are in my arms, not my mind. I will let our wise Jawhar present our plan to help you. Jawhar, you have my shield."
With that introduction, Jawhar stands to address the gathered community, giving Craggark a strong clasp on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Craggark, my brother. With your shield at my back I know I have nothing to fear."
He turns to the Housecarl and other assembled elders and proceeds in a strong voice. "Housecarl, we thank you for your hospitality and generosity. Truly this feast shows us the strength and honor of the people of Whiterook.
Not that the strength of your warriors could ever be questioned. Earlier today, when your warriors approached us on the Thundering River, we immediately saw and respected their strength. Not knowing about recent events, we thought that we were about to fall under attack. Even though there were only two Whiterook warriors, we surely feared for our lives.
Yet, from the very beginning, we have been treated as honored guests, and from the bottom of our hearts we thank you. You brought us into your community, allowed us to meet your people, fed us, and protected us. Even in so short a time, we feel that we have become a part of your community.
The recent attack on Whiterook pains us all, and my heart especially bleeds for the loss of life, the loss of what seem like friends and family even though I never had the opportunity to know them. You allowed us to stay in the now empty lodge of shield maiden Briska.
Empty, yet I dare say not empty. I could feel the spirits of Briska and Erik. While I was trying to figure out what I would say to you tonight, I felt a compulsion to examine a corner of their sleeping chambers. In that corner, I found a doll. A lovingly hand-crafted doll, and on its head two braids of real hair obviously from two different people. This doll called out to me of the hopes Briska and Erik had of starting a family and raising their children in this wonderful community."
Jawhar pauses for a moment to compose himself, then continues. "The spirits of Briska and Erik remain. They are not yet ready to proceed to Pharasma's scales. They, like you, demand vengeance! Yet, I know a little about spirits. They are more aware of events than you or I. Dwelling closer to the realm of the gods allows them greater knowledge. They will demand true vengeance, and a false vengeance will only cause them more pain.
Housecarl, you entreated with the Irreseni of Dalun. You accepted contact with their emmissaries and allowed yourself to believe that trade between your peoples could actually be possible. Then, the attacks came. Treachery!
I feel your pain, Housecarl. You feel that you have failed your people. You feel that you grew soft and allowed your defenses to be lowered, that your hopeful longing for peace and prosperity blinded you to the truth of Dalun. Now, you have resolved never to trust again, to set out and enact revenge on those treachersous Dalun worms.
I feel your pain, Housecarl because I too have known treachery. I too have failed to protect those who trusted in me. I allowed a man to deceive me with false claims of his intent to propose marriage to an innocent young girl and led that girl into the clutches of evil. Like you, I cried out for vengeance and found that vengeance at the edge of my scimitar. Yet, even though I know that the vengeance was just, I still have scars on my heart from my failing. I still have doubt in my judgement, and still seek redemption in my own eyes. How much worse would be the pain if I had taken vengeance only to find out later that the man I slew had not been guilty.
Because I feel your pain, and feel the doubts that you have in your own heart, I know that you fear inaction more than anything at this moment. I know how hard it is to step back and examine the facts, and even harder for you to imagine that there are any Irreseni who are not inherently evil.
I beg you now, please allow your emotions to cool and consider what my brothers have to say."
Faenethor stands now, explaining what he knows about the insignia on the Irriseni uniforms. He explains also what he knows about the local geography.
Next, Jamir and Haltani speak about the political structure and inclinations of Dalun and Saarbotten.
Last, Torvald speaks explaining very logically how unlikely it would be to use trade envoys to stage an attack.
"Housecarl, you have listened to my brothers, and I pray that you have heard their words. You cannot argue that there is doubt about the guilt of Dalun. Yet, vengeance MUST be sought. But, it must be real vengeance. Vengeance against the jadwiga who attacked. We hear your pleas and feel your pain. Your pain is now our pain.
Hold your sword for now. Allow us to continue on to Dalun. We can gain entry to the city. Once there, we can find the truth behind these attacks and lead you toward a true vengeance that will satisfy the spirits of your slain warriors. We pledge to you now our solemn oath that we will return to you with the truth and do whatever we can to assist in your vengeance."
With that, Jawhar returns to his seat to await the decision of the Housecarl.
As Jawhar begins to speak, the hall quiets and all eyes turn towards him. In his deep subconsciousness, Jawhar has already seen two possible out-comes; one a path of Glory the other, destruction. He begins eloquently, and mentions of Whiterook's hospitality, are greeted with toast and hear! hear! However, Jawhar shortly after, feels that he begins to loose the audience, particularly the Housecarl. When Jawhar gets to the point in the speech about the strength of the Whiterook warriors, and there only being two of them, when you first encountered them; puzzlement and...and doubt, seem to cross some faces. Perhaps, it was because of Jawhar's deep Qadira accent. Perhaps they just miss-understood his intent..but, it was not looking good.
Yet at that moment, when all seemed for naught, Jawhar didn't panic. Jahar was suddenly struck by, inspiration of gallant proportions. He redirected the speech, back to Whiterook's hospitality and segued into the tragedy of the attacks. He mentioned the sorrow of loosing good people like Briska and Eric. The last part brought comments like,They ride in Valhalla with the Valkyries! and They're in Gorum's honor guard now!.
When mentions of revenge come up, thunderous approval erupts in the hall. As Jawhar transitions to focusing their revenge on those who were really responsible most heads in the hall nod in agreement. When mention of the Housecarl feeling he failed his people come up, there are shouts of No! it isn't Halvor's fault and It's those Damned Irriseni!. However, Halvor raises his hand prompting the Hall to quiet as Jawhar continues.
When Jawhar speaks of Dalun grumbles and hisses can be heard throughout the Hall. However, after Jawhar finishes his line of thought their are a few faces that show consideration and not out-right hostility. Finally, when Jawhar finishes with, there is doubt about the guilt of Dalun and your proposal to investigate; the hall erupts in chaos. Many of the warriors simply state They're Irriseni! it's in their blood to murder and plunder!. Others take a more level approach of, Dalun is the closest settlement of friend or foe near to us. Trade with them would be beneficial...if they were not responsible for the attacks. Arguments ensue.
After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Halvor speaks.I have considered the words of the outsiders. It is true a reckoning must be made for the blood of our kin! cheers erupt flagons are banged on tables. However, there's some doubt whether Dalun is responsible. Irriseni or not. Silence, I've made my decision. I'll see it from the their own lips of their claim to innocence. If they be innocent I'll know, If not.. He draws a hand axe from his belt and slams it into the wooden table before him as he says, Then the people of Dalun will meet Gorum's justice!*Thunderous eruption of cheers*
Halvor, later comes to the party's table and says, Myself, and a dozen of my men will escort you up the Thundering River tomorrow. slightly drunk, Halvor slaps Faenethor on the back while talking. You will be following our long-ship but, I'll post a man on your ship to guide and help you through the ice. His crystal blue eyes clear for a moment. Bring warm clothes it is un-naturally cold in the witches land He summons a serving maid over and motions for her to give Jawhar two vials of dark blue liquid. The elixirs will give one person warmth, should the cold overtake you. Beware, they don't last long. Some men come up asking Halvor over to their table. Before he is dragged away he says, until the morning then...I am looking forward to seeing the truth or not, in these witches eyes.
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Later on that night, a bit tipsy himself after the revelry of the battle chief's table, Craggark shares his opinion back at the former Wineguard home.
"Ish fine, really. We talked our way out of leading barbariansh into Dalun, and inshtead...*hiccup*...we're leading barbariansh into Dalun."
The half-orc leers drunkenly at Faenethor.
"But no ORDINARY barbariansh, no nope nope no. DIPLOMATIC barbariansh."
With this, the half-orc sticks his head out the door of the lodge and lets out a primal "WOOP!" that echoes back a few times from the drunken Northernmen still conscious in the darkened village.
He stumbles back inside.
"D'you know what we really need?" he says, index finger extended as he faces a wall and addresses no one in particular. "We need a -----"
Craggark's eyes roll back in his head and he collapses in a heap to the side of one of the beds, snoring loudly.
Haltani, escapes out into the freezing air of the star filled sky. Behind her, she can still hear the sounds of revelry and cries for justice. She steps lightly into the packed snow, and begins to walk with practiced ease. A huge sigh of relief parts her lips, as she trudges back to the log house, a crease of worry upon her brow.