You ride north by northwest, following the line of the forest. Two days out of Concord brings you the area of the gold mine late in the evening. The glow of a fire reflects off of the hillsides in front you. Smells of fresh cooking waft over the hills. Rounding the corner, you are challenged by a gruff voice:
"Oi! Oo goes there?"
The missing councilors are easy enough to follow. They headed straight out of Concord north, and their path leads directly to Oleg's. It's morning on the third day when you come over the rise and spot the familiar shape of the trading post. The bell sounds three times - signalling you have arrived.
Dismounting Apple, Talia holds the horse's reins for stablehand, with a smile. "Asha, Kesten, and another man - are they here?"
Talia approaches the three, her face impassive; a wall, no emotion displayed. She'll keep them guessing for as long as possible. "It is quite a jaunt you three have taken, and while the countryside is beautiful and the early summer air agreeable, you are needed back in Concord."
Oleg's Trading Post...
"Yes, they are, Milady. They're eating inside."
-----------------
The main room goes quiet as Talia and the others walk in. Oleg ceases bustling about the the kitchen, while Svetlana stops in the middle of serving food.
Darrick, Kesten, and Asha sit about that table, waiting on the meal. They remain passive for a moment after Talia is done. Darrick is the first to speak.
"Good day to you too, Viscountess Talia." He says, with small irritation that basic civilities have been ignored. "Please. Sit and have a meal with us. We can discuss why you have come all this way over dinner."
"Please milady, sit with us. And all of you." She says, nodding at the rest of you.
From his bodyguard position (about a pace behind Talia and slightly to her right), Vosil coughs politely.
"I hesitate to be the one to raise the issue of basic etiquette, particularly in view of my own regrettable - and, believe me, much regretted - lapse in manners, but should you not stand when a lady enters the room? Particularly when that lady is your Ruler."
He pauses. "Talia is still your Ruler, after all. Is she not?"
Darrick's eyes narrow at Vosil as he speaks. "Let's reach an accord here, shall we? I think we can all agree that 'etiquette', as it were, has been a bit of an issue with all of us lately. Let's sit down as friends and eat. And establish what is we want to be."
But he does not get up.
If the Viscountess is angry at the lack of respect, she doesn't show it. Talia nods her thanks before taking a seat and looking to Dregan and Vosil to do the same. "My thanks, Lord Lebeda, Lady Medvyed. A friendly dinner it is. Svetlana, if you please, your finest liquor for my advisers."
Crossing her hands in her lap, Talia looks down to her simple silver ring, one of many pieces of jewelry she's managed to acquire. Turning the ring around her finger, she betrays a small sigh. Nice as her collection was, it was still hardly befitting the collection of a noble.
The Viscountess looks up to Lebeda. "Let's answer your first question. It is simple why I've come, really. I've come to bring you three home, where you're supposed to be. If I may, why have you come all this way?"
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Asha and Kesten look to Darrick. The man looks at Talia for brief second, then rests his elbows on the table, hands clasped.
"Ah. That. As I am sure you are aware, Milady, there were - words - spoken in the Council chamber. Under normal circumstances, I could not let such words go without response - defense of my honor and all that." He takes a quick look at Vosil.
"But I came here to get away from such foolishness. I came to Concord to be something else, something more, than a Brevic politician."
He leans back in his chair. "Foolish hope, maybe. But I thought that a quick exit to let cooler heads prevail was in order."
"In my desire to let things cool down, I made a rash decision. For that I apologize."
"I followed Darrick for two reasons: one, he should not ride alone in these lands, despite your recent efforts. Two, the three of us wanted to take council among ourselves. Frankly, to see if maybe we had made a mistake in joining this venture."
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"One thing we did realize as we talked and rode was that old saying: 'you can take the woman out of Brevoy, but you can't take the Brevoy out of the woman...or man." She says with a nod at Darrick and Kesten.
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"Indeed." Darrick says, agreeing with Asha. " No sooner did we get established as a government to do 'something different', we went right to Brevic politics when a situation presented itself."
"Not a proud moment." He sighs deeply. "I don't know Vosil or his history. I can only assume that his reaction was from a bad experience with politicians. I - we - would ask that we are treated with the same respect and dignity that you would treat each other. We will do the same. And as Asha said, there is no way to completely take the Brevoy out of us. We will speak our minds based on that. We only ask for a fair and equal voice in the Council."
Vosil leans back in his seat, considering Darrick's words. With a glance at Talia, seeking permission to respond, he looks back directly at the three advisors, searching for the right things to say. As is his wont, he will avoid disclosing more about himself than he must.
"That was as gracefully said as your House motto might suggest, Darrick of House Lebeda. And I offer my apologies for words poorly chosen and spoken in haste. Let us be civil to one another."
He pauses for a moment, with an aside to Talia and a brief, wry, smile: "Now I think of it, Lady, 'Civil Council' is a far better term for us. Might I propose a change of name?"
He turns serious again. "Kesten of House Garess, you have been part of this venture since even before I joined - dependable, reliable, 'Strong as the Mountains' as befits your House. I should not have insulted you. I apologise."
He sighs. "Asha of House Medvyed, yours was the first welcoming smile, the first friendly face, that I had seen in many weeks when I first arrived here, with little in my possession but a headful of regrets. You aided us when we took down the Stag Lord and your advice since has been invaluable. I add to my regrets the offence I caused you. Please will you accept my apology?"
Gavriil lazily leads the wagon along through the wilderness. He's spent the last day and the most of the present day swapping stories with Naralesh and Edric about what had happened whilst he was away.
If there was one thing he did not miss about their little experiment in the Greenbelt it was sleeping outside. He had thought he would have had at least one night under the shelter of a roof, but no, as soon as he arrived they were off again into the stupid wilderness with bugs and nothing to sleep on but the ground. At least it wasn't raining anymore.
His head snapped up at the sound of the gruff voice and looked to Naralesh and Edric. "Uhhh... friends from Concord. We bring gifts! Who might I be speaking to?"
Dregan sits down next Asha and begins to dug into Svetlena's fine food. He seems to ignore the nobles and their dominance rituals.
Meanwhile, at the mine...
The dwarf guard gives a loud 'harumph', looking you all over with a practiced eye. His gaze settles on the cart, and he stumps over around the back of it to see better. With one eye on you, he draws back the canvas cover cover, exposing the beer barrels.
"Friends from Concord eh? Why dinna ye say ye brought beer? Straight through ahead ye go, an' don't stray! Gaerd and Barod be in the big tent there!"
At Oleg's....
The councilors listen carefully to Vosil's words, accepting the serious nature of his apology.
"Of course, Vosil. Harsh words may be spoken, but nothing that we can't work through."
Kesten looks hard at Vosil, but the touch of a smile turns the corners of his normally-serious face.
"I came here exepcting to avoid these types of confrontations, Vosil. 'Your house' you say, I'd rather not think of them. I do understand what you mean, and I appreciate it."
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"Just coming here has restored our faith that we did not make a mistake." He stands, raising his mug. "I propose a toast."
"To Fairhaven, may she never fail!"
Gavriil nods to the dwarf and leads the wagon onward towards the big tent. He looks to Naralesh and Edric and whispers, "Don't plan on things going badly, but be ready for it anyway."
He pulls the wagon up in front of the tent and awaits either the dwarves to come out to meet them or to be ushered inside.
Dregan smiles as the nobles finish kissing and making up. raising his mug he joins "That something I can agree with, to Fairhaven!" after a big swig "Damn this is a good brew. And to the forest father who taught our ancestors to farm and brew!"
Relief rises off Vosil like steam as his apology is accepted. "To Fairhaven!"
As an aside: "Oh, and don't lose that Brevic tricksiness altogether; I've a feeling we may yet need all the weapons at our disposal if we're to do what nobody has managed before and hold the Stolen Lands... even weapons we may prefer not to use."
Talia smiles, the rancor of the last three days seemingly forgotten by those in the room. Now, if the others can just treat with the dwarves successfully...
Raising her glass, the Countess takes a sip and offers the enthusiastic Dregan a wink. "I do believe it was Abadar that brought such light to the darkness that was our ancestors' lives, but either way, I'm glad we've got some here now!"
Of course, there was still the matter of their departed general. "There is the matter of Magna. She's left our service to go fight demons. We have no army, but not having a general either..."
Talia looks around the table and shrugs, embarrassed. "Dwarves."
Vosil nods in agreement at Talia's words. "They are stalwart fighters, and wonderful allies to have on one's side in a fight, but their grasp of geopolitics leaves something to be desired. There's a reason they have ancestral enemies, after all..." He trails off.
"However, back to the present. Gavriil has returned and he and Edric are making a second overture to the Brighthammer clan. Gavriil procured most of Concord's supply of ale on the way out so I trust - I hope - that he will succeed where we failed earlier. If so, making him General might be an option: after all, he is reasonably charismatic and it's not as if we have an army at present that would require him to do any work."
The Brighthammer brothers are standing around a table made from two barrels and board. Over the table rests a rough sketch of tunnels and caverns, with various note scratched in the margins. they look up as you are ushered in by the guard.
"Eh? What can we do fer ye?" Gaerd asks brusquely.
"From Concord, Gaerd. Say they has ta speak with yerself and yer brother,' the guard answers, "they brought ale..."
"We know who they are, Doro, we ain't orc-brained!" Barod retorts. "We told 'em before we got nuthin' ta say...wait...ale?" He asks suddenly.
Darrick frowns upon hearing of Magna's departure.
"Ah. That is most regrettable. I don't think we agree on the kobold situation milady, but I can respect your decision to hold to your word with them. I don't think the Brighthammers will see it that way."
"True. They will take it as an unwise decision on your part. But in the end, that isn't any of their business. They'll try for the mine, of course, but they can't keep it on their own. They'll need us."
Darrick looks at Vosil and smiles. "You mentioned 'Brevic tricksiness' Master Comarenza? Here's some for you...if Gavriil's ploy does not work, we need merely to take that area in the immediate area of the mine as part of Fairhaven. Then, we negotiate from a position of strength. No supplies get in, no gold gets out. Not without our say - and a heavy tariff."
"But," Asha cautions, "the kobolds will be a problem in the future. Of that you can be sure. We will have to deal with them at some point. I doubt even Kaalib can hold them for long. Once they start breeding - and they will, now that any threats to them are nullified - they will look for room to expand."
Vosil looks slightly pained. "I do not disagree with your assessment, Asha. I have met kobolds, too, in the past. But for the present we have problems enough, without borrowing trouble from the future. And Kaalib...was right. Thus far, the Sootscale tribe has kept to their agreement and caused us no harm. We cannot ask him to take arms against his own people...yet. If - when - they make trouble, we can revisit this."
He pauses, cautiously, metaphorically testing the weight of his argument with a wary foot on each careful step forward. "Is that...reasonable?"
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Gavriil follows the guard into the tent, mulling over how to sort of piece the situation back together in his head. It really all depended on how stubborn the dwarves proved to be. If Magna was any indication of how dwarves acted they were in for a long talk.
Gavriil smirks as the dwarf named Barod falters in his gruff outrage at the mention of the ale. At least that's a good sign.
He again glances at Edric and Naralesh to make sure that they were ok with him proceding then opens up with, "Aye, master Barod. I've been sent here by the viscountess to deliver a wagon of ale for you and your men. She realized that things may have not been left on good terms between Concord and the Brighthammers."
He clears his throat and continues, "I'm Gavriil. And just because I deliver the goods, it does not mean I directly speak for her. I'm a friend of hers, not one of her officials. Though my two friends here are. I thought we might be able to just talk a bit and share some good ale. Not necessarily on official business, but as friends."
He smirks at the two dwarves and says, "And if we can come to a bargain in the end then so be it."
"Not a bad plan, but I suspect Magan was right the kobold will stuff up and then you have them killed with a clean conscience."
"Of course it is reasonable, Vosil. No one saying charge in right now and kill them all. It's something we have to keep an eye on, that's all."
The night passes amicably, even jovially, as the drink flows. The talk stays deliberately away from politics, focused mainly on what each person feels is the best path to success in the coming months. As you might expect, Asha favors the construction of edifices for worship - shrines, temples, and the like. Kesten feels Fairhaven needs more watchtowers, keeps, and walls for defense. Darrick leans towards economical infrastructure: roads, canals, maybe even another city. He keeps referring to Oleg's as an excellent place to start another town. You talk late into the night, until sleep overtakes you.
The next day you set out for Concord, the three councilors with you, ready to start again.
Barod looks at Gavriil. "Best ye start pourin', lad. There's nuthin' we cannae discuss without a stout ale." Once everyone is settled with a great, foaming mug, Gaerd speaks.
"Ain't that we left on bad terms, lad. We left because there was gold ta mine, and talkin' ta some self-proclaimed 'Viscountess' with a likin' fer kobolds seemed a waste of time." He takes a deep drink from a large container emblazoned a with the symbol of a golden hammer. When he finally stops, his beard has a healthy covering of foam on it.
"Aaahhh." He sighs. "That were right proper ale, that were. Now. We ain't fools, lad. The Brighthammers 'ave been minin' gold an' silver in the wilds fer generations. But there's a reason no one's been able ta mine in these parts. Ye be the first ta bring some sense of order ta the Green Belt in years. The trick'll be can ye hold it? We're willin' ta help ye, but don't expect us ta be friendly with them kobolds."
Barod nods. "The dirty lizards been our the enemy of our clan since before I kin remember."
"Right you are." Gaerd agrees. "Long as they stay where they are, lad, we'll do the same."
"But they won't"
Gavriil nods to Barod and starts to pour and pass around the tankards. Once everyone is settled hit sits down with Naralesh and Edric to listen to what the dwarves have to say.
At the mention of Talia being self proclaimed, Gavriil bites his tongue and takes a long swig from his tankard. She wasn't self proclaimed, Brevory placed her there, but that probably would just lead to an argument. Better to let the dwarves throw their weight around a little than get kicked out before he even finishes his ale.
While they continue talking, Gavriil just sits and listens. He learned long ago that when people think they are important its best to just let them keep on talking. There's less of a chance of losing your head that way.
When they finally finish their piece, Gavriil nods along with what they said. He knocks back the rest of his ale and then speaks up, "Aye, that's understandable. Blood feuds take a long time to die. But, we aren't necessarily asking you to be friendly towards them. Just stay neutral to them. As of right now we have a truce with them, but they aren't under our control. If someone were to attack them, though, we may have to step in to protect them."
"While I don't quite understand your feud with them, as I've never felt compelled to kill people because I was raised to, I do understand family. If anyone stepped in to hurt my mother or brother then the authorities would never find the body." he smirks at the two of them, "That being said, the kobolds have done nothing to break the treaty so far. The viscountess and her advisers would probably be hard pressed to move against them because of that, even to gain you as allies.
"But! I think I have a way that we can make this work without there being any hard feelings between anyone, though you may not like it very much. Please just hear me out first. The way it is now, you are not even allied with us and the kobolds are. If for some reason a fight would ensue we would probably side with the Kobolds. I'm not saying we would, but that seems to be the general consensus on the council.
"If you were to ally with us and a fight broke out because of your feud, then we would probably stay neutral to the fight considering we would be allied with the both of us. It wouldn't be our fight and you two would be allowed to carry on your feud till the bitter end with neither side receiving aide from us. Unless one of the sides interferes with Concord, in which case we'd most likely side with the other.
"This is the part you may not like. If you were to join with Concord and become citizens of our kingdom, then we would be forced to defend you if something were to happen. If a fight broke out we would be more likely to defend our own citizens than an ally.
"You get to continue to mine the gold but gain protection from us. You'd have to remain neutral towards the kobolds, but that shouldn't be too big of a problem with how much business you'd be getting from the mine. If the kobolds stick to the treaty, then the Brighthammers would never have to worry about attacks from the kobolds. If the Kobolds break the treaty, then the Brighthammers would not only have an excuse to kill your enemy, but then you would have the help of Concord. Either way, you still get to mine here and make a fortune."
He winks at the dwarves, "And wouldn't you rather live rich than die in a feud?"
"As a representative of Fairhaven, I feel I should clarify some of Gavriil's statements. We are not blind to the savage nature of kobolds, and we have offered them naught but a tentative allegiance. One of their number, raised among civilized folk and the clergy of Abadar, is a close friend of ours, and a remarkable exception to their savage race. He understands the ways of civilization, and of men. It is for him we have offered the kobolds a stay of violence."
Naralesh sips his drink before continuing. "But our 'alliance' with them was proposed many months before the nation of Fairhaven was even founded, and it is conditional on their good behavior. If the kobolds initiate violence with our citizens, then they will have no protection from our wrath. We will not let savagery reign in these lands any more than we allowed banditry to flourish."
"Dangerous creatures as they are, their leaders are chosen by strength and combat. Our civilized kobold ally, a powerful sorcerer, plans to challenge their chieftain and seize rulership of their tribe. If he cannot, and the kobolds will not abide by the rightful rule of law, they will be driven from these lands."
"If you join with Fairhaven as citizens, you shall have our protection."
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The Brighthammer brothers go through two ales each while they listen to first Gavriil, then Naralesh, talk.
"Tell ye what, lad." Barod says to Gavriil. "Let's do this the right way. If'n one of you can beat me brother in a drinking contest, we'll agree ta be citizens in Fairhaven. Win...we're in. Lose and we go about our business without you."
He takes a deep draft and smiles as he lowers his mug. He looks at Gaerd, reaching out to clash his silver mug with that of his sibling.
"Ready?"
Gavriil nods along with Naralesh. The elf made good points and he was glad that at least someone on the council saw the kobolds as a tentative ally at best. Kaliib may be a good friend to them, but that didn't mean his friends were also their friends. And considering that most everyone seemed to be scorning these little lizards it may prove to be their downfall to stand behind them.
He grins at the dwarves when they brought up the deal. He leans over to his two companions and whispers, "This may be our best chance of winning them over. I say we take it. Besides, you can't pass up good drink."
"I'm in if Edric is. I don't think the two of us have an ice elemental's chance in hell, but I'll put my money on Edric." Naralesh chuckles. "That doesn't mean I'm not going down without a fight, however," he says, and grabs a mug.
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Edric grimaces when the dwarves suggest a drinking contest. He had been halfway expecting it given the legendary nature of such dwarven contests amongst the few he had traveled with in the past. Desna, as we sit under your stars I ask for your favor and protection. It is for the good of us all.
He smiles widely, before standing and ostentatiously cracking his neck and fingers. "I will drink with you friend. I have drunk with the last brewmaster of Clan Bugman, who brewed the great XXXXXX, famed amongst dwarves and men! I admit this brew is not its match, but it will do none the less!
He carefully folds himself down again, 'accidentally' tipping his tankard over with his foot as he does so. "Friend Barod, will you stand by me to judge the draught? Naralesh, if you will do likewise for our friend Gaerd then that leaves Gavriil to pour the drinks. If that's not too taxing for you of course Gav! We'll need new tankards of course!"
He learns close to Naralesh for a moment. "If my eyes black out you need to stop the contest - no matter what. I can't control the fits when I'm already unconcious."