Ilimara informs Echo that Grailmont was meeting with Ulfric and Kesten to discuss patrol changes. They should have a report for the meeting. As for a hospice, both the clergies of Erastil and Abadar have expressed interest in supporting a chapel, perhaps a joint venture. Ilimara offers to mention to Kesten about checking with the new arrivals for patrol volunteers. The coffers are currently a little thin to add any full time militiamen.
Ayerth looks over the trio finishing a meal at the table off to his right, an older Ulfen outdoorsman . . . Likely a stout fellow and a direct speaker, a younger Taldan looking man . . . Not sure of anything on that one yet, and an average looking dwarf, though not as dirty nor unstylish as is commonly thought . . . He must be some sort of an artisan or other occupation, he doesn’t have to look of dwarven merchants I have had chance to meet . They appear to be having a light conversation amongst themselves.
At a closer at table a human knight in plate armor appears to be finishing a meal of his own, the serving girl is obviously flirting with him though clearly a little young to be so. But that is by my standards. I must remember the humans are of so many types and varied cultures. Out here in the wilds the humans rules become more lenient on that sort of thing. In a few short years she will be of age. They mature so quickly. . . the man must know and is being polite . . . The armored warriors of their cultures attract such attention.
Another table against the left holds a probable bard, lost in his craft, humming and scribbling to himself. Good, a modicum of art. I should like to hear him perform.
Ayerth is greeted by the Halfling that responds that they do indeed have wine and rooms avalible. just as Ayerth is about to start doing business with him, he then gets offered a menu by another man caliming to be the waiter and the cook. Looking it over he responds:
”The venison steak with onions and peppers sounds nice especially if you have any local mushrooms to pair with it and I think the Sealord Summer will compliment the entrée. When your kitchen opens again please place my order. Thank you for the bowl, the contents are a most welcome change from the fare I have been experiencing on the road.”
Shortly after ordering Silas walks into the hall, he spies Ayerth and walks towards his table.
"Ayerth! Good to see you again. I've already found a place to set up shop, and I should have that special commission you asked me about ready in a day or two."
He has a seat at the same table, and idly begins to browse through the menu.
"I take it you'll be meeting with the council soon as well? I feel it's best to get down to business about our arrival sooner rather than later."
Ayerth stands and steeples his fingers in greeting.
”I have the money for the consignments. It would give me comfort to transfer it into your care. I am aware of how vulnerable I may be here on my own. I have much to learn, I did not understand the exchange between the small folk and the norther. Does the small one actually work for the establishment?”
Ayerth straightens and looks Silas in the eye.
”I am ready to present this writ to the Baron and his council. I would like to have something to eat first and I had hoped to find you before trying to do so on my own. I am wearing the garb of an adventurer, but I have brought my noble garb as well. I am unsure as to which would be most advantageous. Should I lodge here? Or were you inviting me to stay with you?”
Ayerth stands quietly studying Silas converse with the others nodding when he is introduced, but lets the other elf handle the gathering of information.
. . . The bar stools are currently empty, save for a single human, young adult, dressed in common garb, somewhat threadbare, nursing a mug. His short brown hair is matted to his head, perhaps a bit dirty and greasy. . . .
After a few more have come in and after the toast, Orin gets up and trundles over to the bar. He mumbles something and wrings his hands a little ( , ) which winds up being a poor attempt at obfuscating a casting of prestidigitation concentrated on sprucing up the young man. The lad is, however, obviously cleaner afterwards. Orin asks the fellow Is this stool taken?
Silas taps his forehead, a sign of slight embarrassment at speaking to Ayerth in Taldan rather than the other's native language.
"Ah, it is good to see you as well. The Guard detained my wagon as well, and, I must assume, all others on the road. The road here travels out of Restov, and I would not be surprised if this is the Capital's way of threatening settlers into remembering that the Rostlands have fallen out of favor.
"I would not send that letter quite yet... if the thought still bothers you in a few days, and news reaches us that the searches and delays have not stopped, perhaps it would be prudent to inform the local rulers and deliver an official proclamation to the culprit guards warning them of the unproductive nature of their actions, and if that fails, then find their superiors.
"I would be happy to work on whatever you need over the next few days. It seems the town has at least a competent smith and bowyer, but I may very well be the only one in the settlement who knows the first thing about proper enchanted clothing. We are on the frontier, after all.
"And... I do not believe that anyone here really 'works for the establishment'—not yet. This inn is barely an independent enterprise, as far as I can tell, just built with expedition resources. Whether everyone here is employed by the Baron, or themselves, or Oleg, or the Swordlords of Restov, is something I would suspect they are still in the process of figuring out.
...
"Meanwhile, I met a peculiar creature earlier today: a kobold, surprisingly socialized, who wishes the aid of the Barony in establishing a silver mine. If, as he reports, these lands really are undercut with precious metals, we may have quite the business opportunity on our hands—which is fortunate, because I've been told by this expedition's sponsors that the sooner the Greenbelt can support its own industry, the better."
"To the Barony!" he toasts with the other.
It seems this lot is loyal to this new Barony or at the very least such is that which they seek to portray. I shall have to learn more of these and be certain. There is still too much unknown.
Ser Brandon finishes the mug with a deep gulp, his face beginning to glow a light shade of red.
"Speaking of the Barony" he says once he has the attention of the others. "I have heard rumour that there are many that make unsafe these land. I have some skill with the diplomacy and failing that the blade." he says, poorly feigning modesty. "Perhaps the Baron may have use of my services... for the right price."
Ser Brandon notices a few at the inn breaking out into conversation in a foreign tongue, one that he assumes might be elven. Quite a few of their kind around here. Supposedly quite arrogant, but intelligent. Quick but they fall easily with good blow. I'd prefer a good sturdy dwarf any day. Those fellas know their drink and love their food and I've never seen anyone take a beating like those bloody dwarves. It's good to get to know all sorts. One never knows who will be a most useful ally.
"For the right price?" Silas thinks, as the knight in the corner begins grandstanding. This isn't a settlement of the wealthy or noble. That braggadocio may not get him much he values.
And then, noticing Ser Brandon's accent, Ah, a Chelishman. That explains the attitude. Hopefully, he hasn't brought any slaves or devil-worship with him—although if he's come this far, he's likely at odds with at least some of the customs of his homeland.
Looks at Shal Looks like they are busy talking
He, as gracefully as one can expect for seats not built on the scale of his frame, climbs up onto the bar stool before the young man gives Orin an answer. Lovely. Barkeep? He looks about for the halfing that traded throws with Ulfric. If you would be so kind, I would like another water, and another of whatever this fellow is drinking.
He turns to the young man in threadbare garb and speaks again, slowly and with genuine empathy. You look lost in thought. Maybe speaking your story will help you untangle any thoughts, if such currently plague you?
No you fool, you can't come out looking greedy and selfish. Besides this town isn't exactly overflowing with gold. If they had any they would be spending it to renovate this place or some corrupt official is clearly pocketing a good amount. Another likely scenario is they are paying a good amount as protection money to some criminal organisation or the other so that this fledgling town isn't waylayed. Nay, nay, think of something fix it.
After an uncomfortable moment of silence Ser Brandon adds, "Naturally, I mean some arrangement which would be mutually beneficial. I am after all here in search of adventure and to help those who require the services of a valiant warrior. Not all can stand up to tyranny, eh. It takes a certain sort brave madness to ride into a combat, to ride towards nearly certain death in defence of the persecuted." he finishes in a tone of confident heroic grandeur. That wasn't too bad. Decent recovery if I do say so myself. A half smile spreading across his face.
Ayerth watches the armored human with a card game players face.
". . . Or a certain dogmatism, selflessness, and good will with a focus on the greater good."
Taking his silence for a desire to be alone, Orin pays the barkeep and says to the human lad, If you change your mind, I expect I will be around. Good day to you.
He climbs down off the stool and looks around the bar once more. Noticing the three elves now in the bar, but at a loss at what to say to engage them, he thinks As if the fair folk want to converse with a stuffy blacksmith anyway. He grins to himself and nods to all that happen to make eye contact.
He heads over to the other human he has gotten introduced to and rumbles out quietly Grailmont, would you point me in the direction of any of the smiths in town? I would like to take a look at their facilities, if they let me.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20 + 1
Taking his silence for a desire to be alone, Orin pays the barkeep and says to the human lad, If you change your mind, I expect I will be around. Good day to you.
He climbs down off the stool and looks around the bar once more. Noticing the three elves now in the bar, but at a loss at what to say to engage them, he thinks As if the fair folk want to converse with a stuffy blacksmith anyway. He grins to himself and nods to all that happen to make eye contact.
He heads over to the other human he has gotten introduced to and rumbles out quietly Grailmont, would you point me in the direction of any of the smiths in town? I would like to take a look at their facilities, if they let me.
Orin actually begins to suspect the man is trying hard to ignore him, scooting a bit over and tensing up when Orin speaks. He notices the Halfling waiter/bartender doesn't serve the man, having young Asina do so, with a look of distaste in her eyes. Orin overhears Jimes comment to the girl, He's upset the judges found in favor of Grimscar. Come the morning, ol' Trayon there is going to spend three days in the stocks. Teach him to let his hatreds get the better of his mouth I think. As Asina walks away chuckling, Jimes mutters to himself, Shame your mother won't let me save up a few scraps to toss his way, on the morrow.
Grailmont mentions the forges are not yet finished, but if interested he is willing to walk Orin by the place on his way to the Watchtower. We have a meeting starting soon for new charter holders. Naturally you are invited, just a soft bit into his cups after the elf's generous offerings.
he then gets offered a menu by another man caliming to be the waiter and the cook.
Looks at Shal ** spoiler omitted **
Shal and Irakli take a meal at the small tables offered in the Watchtower, catching a bit of leftovers from the night before. After that Irakli heads to the council hall while Shal attends to her own affairs.
After an uncomfortable moment of silence Ser Brandon adds, "Naturally, I mean some arrangement which would be mutually beneficial. I am after all here in search of adventure and to help those who require the services of a valiant warrior. Not all can stand up to tyranny, eh. It takes a certain sort brave madness to ride into a combat, to ride towards nearly certain death in defence of the persecuted." he finishes in a tone of confident heroic grandeur. A half smile spreading across his face.
Asina seems quite taken with the knights words while Jimes seems a bit reserved but still friendly. The quiet man at the bar mutters something under his breath, barely audible We need more real nobles here, ones that know the importance of supporting their own kind.
Grailmont comes over, slapping the knight on the shoulder. You should make it over to the Watchtower too. We are meeting with the new charter members. You'll get a chance to meet the Baron and the council members, impress them with your pretty words. He talks too much too.
Time is drawing near to the meeting at the Watchtower. You have maybe a half hour or so if there is anything else you wish to do before following Grailmont and Orin to the hall. Ser Brandon and Ayerth have taken rooms at the Seven Silvers, I may have missed Orin and Silas' intentions.
Out in the street the new arrivals notice that still only half the wagons have made their way into Olegton, the rest are most likely being held for tomorrow.
Silas currently has his possessions under a spare bed in the Watchtower, where he spent the last night—he'll make arrangements, if there are still spare rooms, to rent one at the tavern, before heading over to the council meeting. If there are other newcomers of importance, he doesn't want to look bad next to them by showing up late.
As the travelers arrive to the Watchtower, their charters are collected and they are escorted into the council hall and up the stairs to what was once the common hall. The room consists of a long table fronting a small podium set facing the councilors. Behind the podium are two rows of benches, eight deep. Two other tables are placed to either side of the podium, facing the council table. Place settings are laid out for a total of fourteen guests.
Several people are already seated at the table, holding small talk amongst themselves. The center chair, reserved for the Baron, is empty. Two militiamen stand watch over the room while three others are setting up the food upon two carts nearby as it is brought up by others from the Seven Silvers. It appears the meal will wait until after the meeting is adjourned. A savory smell of roast venison and smoked trout wafts across the gathering, hinting at something promising ahead.
To the left of the Baron's seat are the following:
Kenzi Eagle, a balding dark skinned Garundi man, dressed in a suit of parade armor decorated with symbols of Erastil, the hunt, and stylized antlers. He is talking with another human,
Jhod Kavken, a mature man, thinning reddish brown hair and a bushy moustache. It is rumored he was banished from New Stetven for speaking out against the Queen-Sister.
Next to Jhod is the matronly Korya Lebeda-Gregori, her long white hair pulled up into a bun, her priestly robes of Abadar settled about her. She gives off an air of stern calm, practiced after years sitting in judgement amongst the courts of Brevoy. She is speaking with the elderly human sage Holgast every bit the image of an aging white haired, long bearded wizard. A single seat at the end of the table is empty, set for Shamus Vendrake, the caravan master currently held up with the remaining wagons in holding outside of Olegton.
To the right of the Baron's seat are the following:
An open seat for Grailmont. Next to that is Sir Dramott Orlovsky , a nobleman from Brevoy here out of retirement from the ranks of Abadar's priesthood, a paladin. The stately gentleman, his balding pate ringed with a crown of grey hair, remains in fair shape despite his advancing years. He is talking to Kesten Garess, a man recognizable from the Seven Silvers earlier in the day.
The next seat is taken by Irakli Laindir, a tall red haired elf wearing a mask over his face. He is talking with Ulfric Gromm, the pair having a bit of a discussion about recent events.
The group looks up as the new travelers arrive, the conversations pausing or quieting a little as the newcomers approach, stopping before the tables.
Kenzi Eagle rises, standing next to the Baron's seat. In the man's absence, he leans over, taking and rapping a small wooden orb bound in two thin iron bands upon a wooden dish, calling for quiet and motioning for the new arrivals to take a seat at the tables set for them, two to each table.
The dark warrior and priest displays an air of wisdom combined with a steely gaze, his paladin-hood displayed in the antlered helm resting behind his seat. Welcome, all of you, to what we like to call the Barony of the Greenbelt, arms outspread before him, a colony formed to the truth of Brevoy and the spirit of Rostland from which it springs. Kenzi lowers his arms and steps back to his seat. He sweeps his arm across the group seated around him, saying We here are dedicated to reclaiming these lands long lost to the peoples and building a place which honors the ideals of our shared heritages. I know you have traveled long to be here, and may have questions. We will do what we can to answer them, to assure you of our purpose here, and hopefully to welcome you to our ranks. Sitting down, yielding the floor, he states at the last, In any case, welcome to Olegton.
Silas currently has his possessions under a spare bed in the Watchtower, where he spent the last night—he'll make arrangements, if there are still spare rooms, to rent one at the tavern, before heading over to the council meeting. If there are other newcomers of importance, he doesn't want to look bad next to them by showing up late.
There are enough rooms if each of you want to take them, whether singly or together at this point. Most of the caravan travelers either stay in the wagons or the tent city around Olegton.
Silas will introduce himself when he gets the chance, if there is a round of introductions either before or after the Baron arrives.
His manner is polite, confident but slightly deferent, and he speaks with carefully chosen, unaccented words.
"Greetings. I am Silas Lavein, of Restov, here by request of the Mayor of that fine city. I've heard this city has a need for skilled builders, artisans, men of magic, and the sort of businessmen who know how to start from scratch, and I'm happy to advise or train others on such matters. I look forward to seeing Olegton transformed into more than just an outpost, and will do what I can to help the town stand on its own."
After Silas' introduction, Orin will step forward. Well now I feel the need to introduce myself or be thought rude. he grumbles out with just a hint of a grin and a bit of embarrassment. I am Orin of family Earthglider. We are not very prominent among my kin, so I do not expect you to have heard of them. I come recently from Grayhaven. He points to Silas, And you, good Silas, I would like to see your crafts. You can tell a lot about a person by their works. He says with a hint of mischief in his eye. But yes. It is good to meet you all and good to be here.
"Greetings builder and dweller under the mountains Orin Earthglider of Grayhaven. I am Ayerth Terramielle and newly arrived here."
Ser Brandon nods and smiles warmly at the others in the room, offering polite greetings when required.
Ser Brandon stands and addresses the council. "My Lord Baron and noble Council members. I am Ser Brandon, just recently arrived. My skills lie on the battlefield though I am no stranger to Diplomacy. I have learned in my short years that most battles are won before they are even begun with the proper tactics, strategy and allies.
A silver mine would indeed be a most worthy asset. Revenue to aid in the development of the economy. Though that would attract attention and where there are riches there will be those that seek to usurp such wealth for themselves. Wealth without strength will never work. We must be able to defend our own and be strong so that others doe not take our wealth away. In such endevour I offer my able services and only ask that my risk and sacrifice be justly rewarded as my Lord Baron and Councillors," and turning to the citizens who have gathered, "and the good citizens deem just, just as you seek fair reward and safety for your family for the sweat of your brow."
Turning back to the Council he continues, "My Lord Baron just as my enemies enemy is my ally, my ally's enemy is my enemy. Perhaps if the Kobolds were to be bolstered in such a battle by our good Barony they may have a different opinion of us. Battle has a way of sorting the good steel from the bad and the surviving good steel of the Kobolds may feel differently towards our noble Barony."
"Alas I speak to much. I offer my services my Lord Baron and Noble Council members. I shall train a select few volunteers that would be bold enough to seek out riches as the wilds hold, and who seek to have their names such as heroes and be forever loved for the their daring, bravery and service. That the mines may be won and then even held by such warriors." he says once again looking to the audience to see if there enthusiasm from the young men or even the women. "Who amongst you will ride with me, will fight by my side? Who amongst you will be the HEROES OF THE SILVER MINES!"
Unnoticed and mistaken for one of the common servers or militiamen, Deudermont, a former bandit now redeemed by the Guardians, steps up once Ser Brandon and Echo complete their discourse. He nods approvingly to the knight, before nodding to the Baron and his leave to speak.
Filling the role of Council scribe and witness, Deudermont begins A small point of order Baron Syne. You are correct that the kobold silver mine is on the agenda for this meeting, as are the separate requests for aid from both the chieftain and the tribe's shaman. Mistress Amberhue is prepared to speak on both requests, if deemed needed. However, I should like to point out there are also a few other matters which seek to be discussed. If you would be so kind as to allow it, I will list them here that they may be voted upon for discussion and deliberation by this body.
Deudermont paces in front of the councilor's table as he checks off a list he holds before him, a sheaf of several papers affixed to a long board used as his portable tabletop.
Firstly, according to the town charter as originally proposed, each member holding a writ or marque as granted by the powers of Brevoy is to be considered a full voting member of this body. Baron Syne, will this mean the new arrivals are to have a voice in the voting on and discussion in the matters heard here today. The charters lay before you now for your acceptance or refusal. Deudermont waits for the Baron to respond, while the other members of the council, Guardians excluded, seem to murmur and nod amongst themselves, awaiting his response.
Deudermont then continues, As an update, the Guardians have accounted for 12 of the warrants issued by Brevoy, with two bandits captured, offering information regarding a "dire threat" to Olegton, two have thus far escaped the jurisdiction of the Barony, seven have been slain in combat by the Guardians, and myself now serving my sentence on the behalf of Olegton. Thirty two warrants remain to be served.
Sir Orlovsky interrupts to mention The captured bandits will not budge on what the nature of this threat is, not without assurance from this body that their requests be honored. They do indicate the Stag Lord grows threatened by our presence here. Perhaps this matter should be added to the adgenda.
Deudermont steps back over to a small side table, dipping a quill pen into an inkwell and scratching a few notes onto one of his scrolls. Master Orlovsky has been added to the list of those wishing to address the body. For those on the adgenda, Master Gromm has a combined status report on our current defensive measures. Master Eagle was to be away, but has taken up his report on the status of the Barony's planned growth and development. Master Holgast has tabled his report on the study of the Charter Stone in favor of allowing Mistress Lebeda-Gregori to speak on a proposal she has been developing.
The scribe flips to another scroll, adding Master Kavken has asked to address the Council in regards to the newly announced visit of Castellan Dupreux of Issia in ten days time. Master Garess has also asked to address the Council in regards to the interdiction of caravans approaching Olegton.
Turning to the new arrivals, he continues, Treasurer Vendrake is currently being detained by soldiers of the Crimson Guard as part of this matter, but our attempts to approach the caravan for information or explanation have been rebuffed. Perhaps our new Guardians may shed some light upon this development. Deudermont then takes his seat to the side, ready to document the meeting.
"I am intrigued by the friendliness of these kobolds," Silas says, "But perhaps years of isolation from human society has kept them that way. The kobold mines also, I think, provide a unique opportunity—until the Stag Lord's raids cease, it may be more practical to limit mining to their community, as it would mean Olegton sparing less men, and the kobolds may have some ability to defend themselves."
"That said, I have heard that kobolds generally respect dragons, and shows of strength. I know quite a bit of unaccented Draconic, which might help a bit in communicating their problems. While I worry that sending men into the mines with them may lead to... incidents of misunderstanding, maintaining a small guard outpost and training station at the surface above their mine may allow the silver to be protected and the kobolds to civilize on their own terms. A few guards could also watch patiently and make sure the kobolds don't get up to too much mischief."
"We could also send a few tough experts to train them in proper mining techniques and martial drills. Lastly, if Orin is the craftsman he seems, we may soon have a surplus of smiths and carpenters in this settlement—trading the kobolds proper tools for mining, proper steel weapons for hunting and defending against the Stag Lord, civilized conveniences like furniture and beds, and some of these 'moon radishes' I've heard about—it may go a long way towards both profitable trade for silver, and earning their trust."
And then, addressing Deudermont's points.
"I know little of banditry, but I've fought my fair share of highwaymen in the past, and would not be averse to aiding in the defense of this colony."
"As for the Crimson Guard, they are searching exhaustively every wagon that travels this way, claiming it is to find some large sum of gold stolen from Restov. That may be true, but it also seems like a move by the Castellan to intimidate travelers on the road to the Greenbelt; with tensions between the Rostlanders and the throne what they are, this may be a royal shakedown to remind settlers of the Greenbelt what authorities and laws they should be afraid of."[b/]
[b]"In the mean time," he adds, with a thought, "I would be willing to take over treasury duties until Vendrake returns."
Knowledge (local) to know about general Kobold culture 13
Most kobolds are keenly aware of their own weaknesses, preferring to set up ambushes, holing up in their warrens behind countless crude but ingenious traps, or rolling over the enemy en masse when possible.
While most kobolds are red, green, blue, or black in coloration, a few among them exhibit abilities based on the color of their scales. Silas is not sure exactly what powers if any "soot" has, though from observing Meepox, perhaps the race is more timid and cooperative, suggesting increased wisdom and a patient temperment.
Knowledge (local) to have picked up rumors about the local Kobolds 25
Once part of a larger colony, the Sootscales are all that remain of a tribe which was comprised of three clutches, the White Eyes, the Darkscales, and the Longclaws. The colony first came into conflict with dark fey from within the Narlmarches and Hooktongue Slough, fleeing eastwards. They then clashed with and were destroyed by the Barbed Spear goblins of the Tors of Levenies. Their warrens taken by the goblins, the remaining kobolds sought refuge in a series of caverns beneath the Greenbelt, near to the Shrike River.
The tribe has remained there about ninety or so odd years now. Over this time the separate clutches merged into one, becoming the Sootscales. Up until recently, each chieftain took the name of Chief Sootscale. Chief Tartuk is the first that anyone recalls being named something different. It was Chief Tartuk that lead the kobolds again into conflict with the fey mites and sent a raiding party to the slaughter against the Barbed Spears, again riling up that band over the past few months.
It is believed that the Sootscales are a superstitious tribe, and it has been claimed that when they have come into conflict with humans and other travelers, those wearing or displaying holy symbols have been spared, allowed to leave with their lives, though only after paying a small "toll" as opposed to being completely robbed.
Yes. Orin rumbles. I cannot say I have much experience either with banditry, but it sounds as if it becomes necessary to focus on the bandits and the Stag Lord. As this place is a hub for those looking for a new start, wherever he is I would guess is a hub for all that is against community and decency. Orin strokes his beard for a moment. But I can see the necessity of dealing with the kobolds first and quickly. Forming a partnership, if possible, would enrich us both.
Maybe this one pointing to Ser Brandon is smooth enough to talk them into citizenship? Either way, having a friendly presence teaching them mining and crafting techniques they do not natively possess could make them favorably disposed, possibly even ardent, in supporting this new barony if it benefits them enough. he says, agreeing with Silas' previous statement.
I wonder how many dwarves we could get to volunteer for mining with kobolds. Orin wonders aloud. I think asking gnomes to volunteer would be a bad idea.
I wonder how many dwarves we could get to volunteer for mining with kobolds. Orin wonders aloud. I think asking gnomes to volunteer would be a bad idea.
Trying not to disrupt the meeting, Silas quietly whispers back to Orin, "I hear there are gold deposits nearer to the city; once the bandits are gone, that might be a better place for any dwarf or gnome miners who've got grief with kobolds."
That is fair and probably wise. I was just indulging in some racial pride. Who better to teach smithing and mining than a dwarf? Though if I thought honestly on it, my kind tends to be jealous of crafting secrets they may possess. So it would be less successful in application than in theory. he responds, looking at first hopeful and then chagrined.
Silas makes a discreet shhhing motion, and returns his attention to the matter at hand.
Well that didn't go the way I hoped at all. The Baron seems to be I ask others so he seems like he cares but does what he wants to. He's probably just threatened by me. I have to find some way to make this work.
"My Lord Baron. with all due how I obtained my charter is of no concern, only that I have one and am entitled to all the rights enshrined therein. If we are to be successful here we must find a way to work together and that requires trust. Your sources are correct, and my charter was bought for."
Ser Brandon pauses for a moment to steel his nerve. "Bought because I could never rise from where I come with the tag that is placed upon me. If a man is only valued for the blood in his vein and but not the deeds of his doing then what sort of home is that. I have come here because I know what I am capable of. I have ambition and would seek fair reward for my risk and labour. I shall not toil only to be given scraps from the table."
"It is clear that there are many forces that seek the failure of this expedition." He pauses for a moment not wanting to reveal more about the caravans being detained lest the good folk be dismayed. "I am newly arrived as I mentioned and I would expect that those who have been here and parleying with the kobolds may know of such enemies. If we do not we may learn from their emissary. But fight for our survival and freedom we shall have to and my blade is at your disposal my Lord."
Ayerth observes the group trying to get a feeling for the intricacies and dynamics of those involved.
Calling for attention, Councilor Eagle addresses the table. Perhaps it would be best, for the sake of expediency, that we table the discussion regarding the additional charters and their merits or circumstances for a later meeting. I call for a vote that for the time being, the new charter holders be granted extemporary powers to the council, advisory and voting, but without position, until our next scheduled meeting on 1st Sarenith. Do I have a second?
Councilor Kavken seconds the nomination, passing the motion to the floor for a vote. The vote is in favor of allowing Kenzi's motion to pass, and so Kenzi again addresses the floor. Thank you everyone. Each of your charters will be reviewed once we have all had time to understand their origins and the purposes they were offered. Perhaps Treasurer Vendrake will be able to clear this matter up once he arrives. He met with the leadership in Restov before this last caravan left Brevoy. For now, thank you for joining us and welcome to Olegton. He cedes the floor that the meeting may continue.
The judge Lebeda-Grigori takes to the podium, addressing the assembly. She brings out two documents, one a wooden dowled scroll tied with a purple ribbon, the other a piece of dried skin. To the matter of the kobolds, I have asked our visitor Meepox to grant me permission to admit these items to the council. The first is a letter from their Chief Tartuk, the second from their shaman Klatoo. They have also sent this, a gift to show the value of what they have to offer Olegton. The judge sets a rock upon the table, nearly completely silver, dirty and rough. Masters Steele and Ironhame both confirmed this stone is near pure silver, few impurities. If the mine is truly of this quality, it would be a boon for our colony. Meepox waits outside should anyone wish to question him further. The scrolls are passed around for all to peruse.
How does the Council wish to address the requests of the kobolds? Are there any motions? Korya asks, returning to her seat with the aid of her ornate golden scales-handled cane.
"Meepox does not seem to be the sort to lie with any skill, and he seems to support the Shaman's message. I would indeed like to question him further."
Judge Lebeda-Gregori nods to Silas, Do we have a second for Master Lavein's request to address shall we call him Ambassador Meepox?
Baron's Arm Garess speaks up, Aye Priestess Korya, I second the request, bring in Meepox please.
One of the militiamen speaks to someone outside the council chambers and a few minutes pass before the small kobold comes in, looking this way and that, approaching the podium. Korya motions for him to come forward and stand upon the step up to the podium. Ambassador Meepox, thank you for joining us. The council wishes to ask a few questions regarding your situation and that of your peoples. Please tell us your name and why you have come to Olegton.
The kobold, eyes wide, gulps hard, his gizzard making a soft dry grinding as he does so. Standing upon his toeclaws, his tail helping him balance, the kobold's head barely rises over the stand for all to see. He talks slowly and loudly, his neck craning, Me am Meepox, sootscale of Sootscales. I here give you stuff. Grated terror-bull Chief Tartuk the tree men deuce said go, said give. Said wait, said hear you say yes, hear you say no. Smelly bad like stinky ugly flowers Chief Tartuk make Meepox yellow if Meepox not go. Looking scared at that, the kobold gulps again, a slight shudder running over him. Yellow bad, yellow die, yellow no be sootscale, making a soft coo at the last. Good nice shaman Klatoo ask Meepox say do. Give scrap to Meepox, say give to Barum, Barum be nice. Say Sootscales be nice too. Say Barum big smart softskin. Say help sootscales be Sootscales. No more yellow. No more fighty fight. Barum help sootscales? he asks, looking around the room, apparently eager for the answer but not knowing if a "Barum" is a person, a thing, the whole group. Settling to his feet, disappearing behind the podium, Meepox finishes Meepox go, Meepox did, Meepox wait.
"If I may..." Silas begins, and then continues in Draconic.
"Meepox, you are among wise men here. You can speak in your own tongue, if that makes it easier to explain what the Sootscales are going through."
To address the main situation at hand here, and to give my professional opinion on the matter, the last thing we need at the moment is to fight two wars at once. It doesn't matter how small the colony, or how untrained the kobolds are, we don't need to use excessive force on something that isn't even threatening us, and with the tri-forge completing soon, we will need the extra resource to keep them from having idle hands. Grailmont said, ending on the kobold note for now.
As far as the attack go, they are getting closer and closer to us and the tents, which means we clearly aren't taken seriously. Ulfric brought note of making a patrol every 4 days, and increase the amount of troops from 6 to 8 men, being lead by a lieutenant. I stand behind this idea, however most of the attacks made happen of course when we aren't on patrol, so I would like to throw on the table the possibility of building watch towers outfitted with signal fires to not only improve our security, but to further increase our border as a growing city. he added, waiting for further input.
On a lighter note as well, I would like to congratulate the new Guardians, I'm quite excited for our future ventures together.
Meepox responds to Silas in Draconic, not realizing the ramifications for those in the assembly that do not speak Draconic.
Meepox continues Tartuk kill Chief Sootscale, curse with yellow scales for sootscale's worship of great dragon queen. Pointing at everyone he says, You not supposed to hear great dragon queen's name. Tartuk made old chief yellow. Chief die that night of bad bad stomach ache, his tongue turn ugly flower color, like sky at almost night, then he go all shaky shake and not stop, then his eyes cry blood and him die. Meepox's eyes are watering a bit at this point.
Tartuk say see, old sootscales not worship wrong gods no more or all be cursed. Said worship his goddess, called Grabbigbootay. Had ugly statue of goddess. Ugly head, ugly body, look like bald ugly nasty gnome girl. He describes her looking like this Grabbigbootay
Tartuk then say we must make not bad for bad god, said have to kill barbie spears tribe to make all good again. Him pick best warriors and send to old caves. They no come back. Tartuk start tossing sacred boxes of Grabbingbootay, reading writing on the boxes. Says more sootscales must go to make not cursed for not kill gobbos. Any sootscale say wrong, they go yellow, they die like old chief.
Meepox starts ringing his clawed hands and pacing as he continues. Now all sootscales cursed and going yellow. Ticktik mites attack sootscales when their turn to raid. We not have sootscales to make raid, so we no go, we not have lots sootscales left. Klatoo hiding last nest of eggs from Chief Tartuk. Tartuk say we must eat sootscale babies to be bigger bad when fight gobbos. Klatoo hide babies. Mites come and they raid, they steal grabbigbootay. They not know it a goddess. Chief Tartuk mad. He say we all go yellow unless we get statue back, unless we kill all barbie spear gobbos. He say prayers to drive out curse, but now three sootscales go yellow every day. He says very bad, soon to die like Chief Sootscale die. They instead go raid mites to get statue back. No sootscales come back after being yellow. It our turn to raid mites, but we no have sootscales to raid with. You must help us get statue back, make us not go yellow. You stop Chief Tartuk? You help us now yes? his last statements imploring.
Meepox paces in front of the group, speaking in draconic, at one part waving an arm around the room, another his eyes tear up, ending on an imploring sound. At one point Holgast interrupts to say Brelove Armosin, this week her hair is purple.
Ulfric responds to Grailmont. Aye lad, but like I said, tha cost would be high fer towers n men ta man 'em. My vote is still ta find tha stag laird, ta kill 'im n be done wit it. 'Im n all 'is sassernach men.
Not knowing a lick of draconic in hopes that someone will explain the story to him, he thought over what ulfric suggests Aye well do we know what all that entails? Irakli, what have you in information about the stag lord and their defence?
"Well..." says Silas, "Sounds like Meepox is a bit more talkative in his native tongue. If his account is to be believed, then Tartuk is a usurper who poisoned the Sootscales' last chief, goaded the Barbed Spears into war unprovoked—a war that may in fact have consequences for our colony, if the leader of the Kobolds cannot be convinced to end it. Tartuk now demands war and... cannibalism, of all things, from his followers, on pain of death. Apparently he has subjected the Sootscales to some sort of yellowing curse or disease, with a statue stolen by the TickTik mites as the only cure—and Meepox is under the impression that, unless the statue can be returned, their whole tribe may soon perish, making its return more of a pressing issue than finding out how to deal with the usurper."
"And Grailmont, if these Mites are in fact in league with the Stag Lord, perhaps... negotiations with them may yield information on his whereabouts. Which is, of course, an issue more directly pressing to those already part of the Barony."
"But regardless, if we are to march against the Stag Lord, I will be happy to travel with you, Grailmont, and tend to what wounds I can."
Priestess Lebeda-Grigori taps her cane on the edge of the table and comments The matter of the Stag Lord, our defenses and related matters are next on the agenda. As for now, we have a guest in the chambers and should finish with the matter at hand before moving on to new business please. Do I have any motions from the floor?
Orin settles back into listening and watching rather than responding, and fights the urge to shout Here Here! when Ulfric suggesting going after the Stag Lord first.
It seems we have a clear course of action. Tomorrow the guardian's should mount, and begin a journey to the sootscale mine in an effort to meet with the chief. We can ask him to leave , peacefully. Or we can do the job that needs done, and then work with the sootscales afterward. But all the evidence is mounted against the chief. Internal politics we will not meddle in, but this usurper chief is an outside force, demanding cannibalism and waging war with soldiers that are not his.
Brandon, you will not be given table scraps, I promise. You do the work that this team of guardians undertakes, you will absolutely be given an equal share of honor, responsibility, and whatever treasure that does not take away from olegton's coffers. As will all the newest guardians.
Of course, my apologies Priestess Grailmont said, he then motioned to the kobold Meepox, when we meet with this Tartuk, what oppositions will we be faced with? Does he have his own force of men? What is it we are to expect when we march in with these accusations against him?
Meepox, thinking he may be getting support from the group chimes up in broken common, Sootscales no be hippo-sites. Sootscales be nice nice. Chief Tartuk not sootscale friend. He has bird Tickbiter and longrat Shellsucker for friends. Both bad creatures. You kill, you eat yes. But Tartuk big priest of Grabbigbootay. Goddess gone, but he still make many heap big prayers go bad bad.
Grailmont looked a bit puzzled, figuring he was talking about some bird and some other creature, still unsure. Uh-huh.. Silas, friend, could you perhaps regale that information to him in his native tongue please? specifics would be great, in terms of a fighting force we may need against Tartuk.
Holgast responds before Silas does so, asking a few quick questions and getting roughly the same responses from Meepox.
It appears that should you march against Chief Tartuk, the Sootscales will step aside. Tartuk apparently has a bond with a black bird, likely a large raven, and a "longrat". The description suggests a cave otter or weasel. Both creatures have tormented the kobolds, freely allowed to by Tartuk.
"It seems we have found the enemy of the Kobolds that we must defeat, though I did not expect the enemy to be their own chief."
"My Lord Baron, I accept your terms. it shall be my honour to serve the Barony. On the matter of improving our defences I am in agreement with Sir Grailmont. Watchtowers would be an excellent way to provide warning. Perhaps some sort of magical communication devices may be fashion to provide warning and information of the attackers. I know little of magic, but perhaps a wizard or sorcerer would be better suited to provide such advice. Signal fires, as Sir Grailmont suggested would also be effective. A mounted force would be quick to respond to such a threat."
"On the matter of the Kobolds, this may be premature, but if they are to be our allies and we are able to dispatch their chief and restore their tribe, as I others have suggested, the matter of training them in mining and combat should be considered. They may prove to be valuable allies and useful when supplied with the proper training and tools."
"May I also suggest that some more of take attempt to learn their language and to teach them common to improve communication and commerce between our peoples. It seems that good Silas speaks their tongue. If you will tutor me Silas I will be most grateful."
Things seem to be coming together well. Adversity and a common enemy is always makes people work together, though once the enemy is gone the infighting resumes. Thought there seems to be much to be dealt with and it shall be a while before we come to that. I shall have to pay close attention to how matters proceed."