Ivan wakes up early and goes the the once grand marketplace. It is early so there are no crowds, but the merchants arrange their displays and prepare for the daily exchange of goods.
He looks for silver and cold iron weapons, especially silvered arrows.
The night passes, the night’s fog recedes into the Vhatsuntide River, and the hazy dawn creeps back onto the labyrinthine streets of Ardis. Breakfast isn’t terrible, but even the food is a testament to the city’s ennui. What little commerce is left in the city begins with the city criers’ piercing cries of woe and misery, just another day in the grand old city.
As you arrive at the docks, there seems to be an odd man waiting for your group. He dresses in well-worn, hooded traveling gear, and would look like just another passerby except for the pallid half-mask he wears over his face, and the exquisite rapier on his hip. His gloved hand waves you forward.
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"Doctor, I was hoping to talk to you alone for a few minutes. Don't fear - this isn't some intrigue. As a fellow Leipstadt man I hope you will let me say my piece - the Good Gods know I've had to consume a third of a bottle to drum up the courage."
"I didn't want to say anything around the Droht - I fear the man would have to take offence and duel me. It seems like an inauspicious start to our fellowship. There is also the chance that you might take offence - and I apologise if you do, as none is intended - but as a scholar I am sure you can understand the difference between a thesis and an accusation. I also believe that you would rather have uncomfortable knowledge than not."
Quickly Edward continues
"When your cousin was overthrown, it was a spark to tinder. One after another the Counties started to turn. I'm not sure why it stopped - I suspect it is a testament to Count Muralt - but what happened once could happen again."
"I believe that if one of the Palatines can be redeemed to proper rule by noble blood, we may once more see the movement spread. Perhaps my own dear Vieland can be redeemed."
Edward coughs and starts to speak in an even more academic tone
"I present to you the following argument: Firstly, that there were reasons that of all the Counts, your cousin was the first to fall. Secondly, that that line, once deposed, has shown a weakness in either divine mandate or hereditary virtue, and is ever vulnerable to a new revolution. Thirdly that Galt shows how dangerous it is for a country to ever enter a cycle of revolution and counter-revolution."
"My thesis is that it would be a mistake to see the old Count or his descendants take the County throne if we are successful in restoring order. I posit that if we are successful it is you who should sit upon that seat."
Edward holds up a hand
"Understand that I will support you regardless of your decision - I would risk Ustalav becoming Galt to see things put right. I do not ask you for an answer. I simply present a thesis to my old teacher."
Edward looks even more uncomfortable.
"I have talked little of Ravenholm. If I am to bare myself before you - and I think I must - the sad truth is that I am Earl in name only at this stage. My father left the people there alone, and the stewards are in all but open rebellion. I am confident that in time I will prevail, but at this stage my true holdings in Ravenholm are little more than my ancestral house. I could possibly put my hands on a few teams of people, but not enough for any true army."
Edward shrinks a little
"Further... Further having spent all my money on redeeming Ravenholm, I am all but bankrupt. The twenty silver I spent on the whiskey was... well..." he hands over a small pouch with 32 gold and 4 silver in small denominations "It is yours. I've sold all the jewellery and clothes I could bear to do without, but if it really is the difference between success and failure I might find another piece." he twists his signet ring as he talks.
"On a more positive note - and I didn't share this in the common room, but am happy to do so discretely - I have studied exhaustively the ancient arts of conjuration and summoning. I am in the process of training up apprentices at Ravenholm - I have a dream of an Ustalavic school to rival the Arcanarium. If we do need troops I may well be able to summon them - what they'll lack in numbers they'll make up for in expendability."
Edward looks definitively the worse for wear in the morning. He is all too happy to let the others rush to the marketplace while he slowly dresses, and slumps downstairs. Breakfast seems to per him up slightly, and he takes his time with it. Finally he packs up his possessions into a backpack, hands it to his apprentice and walks to the docks, leaning on his quarterstaff like a much older man.
"Boats." he sighs at the docks.
Amos approaches the man that appears to be waiting for them. Is there something that Myself and my colleagues can do for you? I do hope that you plan to keep that rapier where it is.
The Doctor regards Edward for a long moment with a piercing look, one eyebrow raised, before offering his mirthless smile. "I appreciate a man who knows there is a time and place for uncomfortable truths, and who will speak them in those times, Earl of Caromarc."
"You may be correct that my cousin is not fit to rule. On the other hand, he has had time to think over his failings, and he never had me to advise him. If there is an argument to be made about rulership by birthright, one must respect those rights. His claim is legitimate, mine is weak."
"And as I said in the tavern, I have no facility for rulership. I find the needs of the lowborn tiresome, their travails often easily avoided and of little consequence, when it comes to the great matters plaguing our nation. But... I will take your advice under advisement. Even the pure-blooded have shown themselves incapable rulers, from time to time. If my cousin shows himself ill-equipped to rule, he wouldn't be the first nobleman to do so."
Pausing to pack his pipe, the Doctor continues. "Worry not about your home, Earl. You are in the process of rebuilding it, and that is the first step in establishing your family's name again. We'll need an army, but for now we need a scarcer resource - information. What is the situation at Ascanor? Are there locals nearby that would welcome us, or at least consider us an improvement on their lives? Lands for peasants to till? Resources to be taken advantage of? Armies can be raised, if you have people that will follow you. Information must be uncovered."
"Keep your coin, Earl of Caromarc. I'll cover the passage of you and your assistant to Ascanor, discreetly of course. I'm sure that a man of your standing would not hesitate to return the favor, if I needed it."
"And, if I may offer you some advice, Master Caromarc. You gave me the impression you were a Palatine agent back there, in the tavern. No doubt you left that impression on the Drocht as well. You'd do well to make things right with him, before your head graces a pike."
The morning comes soon enough, the cries of a nearby rooster rousing the Doctor from dreams of fog, shadows, and things crawling just beyond sight. After a stiff cup of coffee, Aldous heads down to the docks, arranging for passage with a local captain at an almost criminal price. Sighing, the Doctor gives over the money for himself, Edward and his assistant, and the carriage and horses, and then heads to get a proper breakfast and some supplies.
-----------
Returning to the docks, the Doctor sees Amos speaking with a stranger wearing a half-mask just visible under his cloak's hood. Complications already, the Doctor thinks, and heads to the stranger to sort out whatever trouble has arisen.
"Good morning to you. Please come and sit."
"I didn't want to wake you early at your room, but I needed to speak with you privately."
"I went to the docks and found out how many coins it would be for passage. I have only 12 pieces of gold left. I am reluctant to part with any of my effects because they are all I have left from my Sire and I would have little hope to sell them at a good price or return to reclaim them if ransomed."
"You said you had extra coin, yes? . . . I was wondering if I could give you something of mine as collateral for passage until I could repay you these coins?"
"I had gone to the market earlier to look for silvered weapons, but they required many coins. Do you know if any among us have such weapons? I carry my badge of office and it is made of cold iron, useful against the old spirits of the woods, but not all its denizens."
"I also wanted to beseech you that we must be ever mindful of the balance of the Shudderwood. There are many truces and understandings in place there to ensure many can shelter beneath the leaves. . . There is a reason the wood survived even during the Reign of the Dreadlich."
"Finally, I wanted to express to you my concerns about The Earl and the Devil Follower. I worry that the Earl has become like so many nobles in the Palantines care. Content to sit like cows in a pen and chew the cud of whatever their peasant masters throw them. He spoke openly in complement of them."
"Likewise I worry about the Asmodean. Tamrivena Paid the price for Count Andachi's transgressions with outside powers. He too held order and law above all else."
[b]The Dark Prince, The Midnight Lord, heard his prayers, and sent the mercenary Kazavon, who quickly reorganized Tamrivena's army, brutally training them to be ruthless and efficient. Kazavon led the army across the border and massacred the disorganized orc hordes. By 4043 AR, the enemy had been driven off Tamrivena's land, retreating into the foothills of the Kodar Mountains. It was then that Kazavon revealed his true intentions: instead of returning to Ustalav, he built a stronghold at Castle Scarwall and began to gather forces of his own. When Count Andachi realized Kazavon's cruelty and lust for power, he turned against the general, raising an army and marching against Castle Scarwall. Like in the other Palatine infected counties, the King failed to send his cousin and vassel aid."
"The Count was easily defeated and publicly executed. Kazavon expanded his realm and ruled with terror and war for over a decade, until he was destroyed by an Mandraivus and his army."
"I fear for our land and peoples. We are not Chellix and we must learn from what history has shown us."
"I speak to you openly, because my mother and I owe our lives to your cousin. The True Count of Lozeri."
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At the docks:
The Droht eyes the man assessing his moves and stance. When he sees the Doctor move forward he tries to interject himself into the conversation.
He approaches next to Amos.
"Forgive my companion's brusque tone. He is simply egar to be on his way, you can see we are packed for travel, but the days is young and the bats just now settling for their rest. There is no need for harsh words, talk of weapons or rush. I am Ivan, whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
The masked man steps forward, and bows to Amos, "Greetings, favored son of the Inferno, I am Guy Severin, representative of the house of Thrune, at your service."
His white smile seems to bear fangs, but perhaps that's just your imaginations, he does give a friendly nod and good morning to each of the company. The man is insufferably polite.
"I understand that you will be heading into the Shudderwood with your companions here, and, as a representative of our great liege would be honored to assist you in your grand enterprise."
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The Doctor sits and folds his hands around the mug of coffee, enjoying its warmth. It was all too often too chilly in this part of the world, and the Doctor had learned at a young age to appreciate warmth wherever it could be found.
Listening to the Droht, Aldous sits silently for a minute when the man finishes his talk. Then nodding, the Doctor offers his thoughts.
"I appreciate your honesty, Droht, but then I know from last night that you are an honest man. I'll happily pay your way to Ascanor - I know that you would do the same. And there is no need for collateral. A small kindness is easy to offer one that has known my family for so long."
"I have, in my coach, bolts of silver and cold iron. If you need some arrows, you have but to ask - I can afford them, and I'd prefer you have the tools at your disposal to be effective."
The Doctor sighs, and rubs his eyes before taking a sip of coffee. "I'd not worry about the Earl. He gave me the same thoughts as you - that agents of the Palatines own him somehow. But we spoke last night, and I see now that he's simply at times rushed with his words. I believe he is no more friend of the Palatines than you, and I believe his interests align with ours."
"The Asmodean, I do worry about. He has a love of order, and his god, of tyranny, that is inflexible. We'll have to be careful with him, but there is a place for his type in the world. One need not be loved to rule if one is feared, but above all one must be respected. Of course, it is a fine line from fear to hate, and hate leaves little room for respect at all."
The Droht maintains his smile.
"Oh . . . Well, nice of you to offer. We shall see if the Good Doctor would like to accept."
The Doctor arrives at the end of Severin's introduction. Giving the man a nod back, Beauturne offers his hand. "Well met, Master Severin. A question, if you'd indulge me? When you say you are a representative of 'our great liege,' of whom do you speak? I'm sorry that I need the clarification, but we all hail from different places..."
Severin shakes Aldous' hand with gusto, "Certainly, I completely understand." He then gestures emphatically as he speaks, as if performing on stage.
"Why, one may lay claim to many lieges, my superior, and so forth, up til her ladyship Queen Abrogail the 2nd, and even beyond that, dear sirs, even beyond and below." He reaches up to the sky and then bows deeply again, his hand almost touching the ground. "Many are the gods of Golarion, but the matter is this: I have means to provide you to your due course, and all I ask in return is your friendship."
Edward slaps his head
"What? No wonder the man took such a dislike to me! I was simply trying to warn him to be discrete! I shall seek him out in the morning."
"You are very kind, Doctor. I certainly hope were our circumstances reversed I would."
"Intelligence is something I should be able to help with. Let me sleep on it and I will see what I can do."
Edward lurks outside the conversation, peering intently in at the meeting.
If the man is of noble blood it would be anathema not to work his heraldry or colours into his outfit somehow. Perhaps there is some clue.
Suddenly he stands straight, flapping back his cloak, then walks smoothly to the meeting.
"Severin, did you say?" he cocks his head a little to the side "of Westcrown? I am Edward Caromarc. Delighted to meet you." he bows and returns to clutching his quarterstaff.
One of the three largest cities. Ardis of Thrune. With any luck he'll be too proud not to state his home city.
"Ah, delighted as well, I assure you sir, the canny Caromarcs, how could I not be delighted?"
"You are too kind - but only to be expected from a civilised Severin." he smiles "I hope you got a chance to take some in the theatre in Ardis. It may be some time till the chance comes again."
Severin sighs, "I'm afraid I haven't been able to, I have some pressing business in Karcau to which I must attend."
Ivan disliked that Amos worshiped a deity the professed law and order and to hate chaos, but spread chaos and destruction wherever he touched.
He greatly mistrusted this man in the half-mask stated all he wanted was friendship, her certainly couldn't mean it. These devil worshippers were masters at playing on meaning and tenses of words.
He had decided to work with Amos due to the Doctor's calming words, but this was too much. The man was claiming to have ties to the House of Thrune and the Queen herself.
Men like that didn't travel to Ustalavv simply for friendship.
The masked man steps forward, and bows to Amos, "Greetings, favored son of the Inferno, I am Guy Severin, representative of the house of Thrune, at your service."
His white smile seems to bear fangs, but perhaps that's just your imaginations, he does give a friendly nod and good morning to each of the company. The man is insufferably polite.
"I understand that you will be heading into the Shudderwood with your companions here, and, as a representative of our great liege would be honored to assist you in your grand enterprise."
Amos looks at the man, as he says that, and suddenly Amos's face looks slightly less menacing.
Very well. By great liege do you refer to Asmodeous, or another? Please do come along. We can speak further on our journey. I would love to hear more about this House of Thrune. Or did you have something else in mind?
Looks like we found a fine man here. I hope we can recruit him along on our journey.
The Doctor scowls and turns away for a second to regain his composure. A lot of fancy words, nothing of substance said. No answers within his answers. But Caromarc seems to think highly of him, as does Amos, without a doubt.
Turning back to the newcomer, Beauturne nods to the ship. "Well then, Master Severin. May I help you with your things?"
Looking about, the Doctor tries to see what, if anything, Severin has brought with him.
"Promise me that you will take the time to visit the Opera in Karcau then! Think of your family's reputation as patrons and connoisseurs! Surely even your equally famous loyalty to Thrune would brook one night off!"
"You said your liege was offering to become our friend, and, as a friend assist the good Doctor's expedition? I assume any details would need to be worked out somewhere a little less... public?"
"Master Windelton, the same," he gives a sly smile to Aldous, "I mean no offense by my coyness, his faithful are not welcome in Ustalav." Turning back to Amos, he continues, "As I said, I have pressing business to which I must attend, as much as I would dearly love to travel with this fine company. As such, let me attend to the business of paying your group's passage."
"Fortunately I believe this boat is headed north. I dare say you could catch a boat in Ardagh and be in Karcau before any carriage could make the trip."
My apologies for being so blunt, but if you don't mean to accompany us may I ask why you are here? While we appreciate the offer it seems odd to send someone so fine as yourself out simply to give us a few silver. If there is nothing else I believe we should be on our way.
I have a bad feeling about this guy, if he was part of our team why not meet us at the tavern? No one this important is sent so far for a few silver. Beauturne could have just sent it with the letter if he wanted
The Doctor nods. "My apologies then, Master Severin. I had assumed that you were to be traveling with us. Though, as the Earl points out, you still could, if you wish."
"There's no need to speak in entendres here. As you can see, Master Windleton wears his religion with great pride - on his armor, around his neck, and on his shield. And yet, no one has dared not welcome him to Ustalav, to my knowledge."
Aldous coughs politely. "As for the ship's passage, I am afraid that I have already booked it, so we won't be needing your gift, gracious as it is. You are quite aware of our purpose here, it seems, so if we are successful, perhaps you can look us up in Ascanor? We can always talk of friendship then. If, of course, you are not going to head north with us, to Ardagh at least."
The Doctor coughs politely again, and thinks, Beware of those that darken your doorstep with gifts, completely ignoring the fact that he paid for the passage of three of his colleagues.
I do believe friendship is important to keeping order. I do hope we will meet again on our travels. Perhaps we can work together.
"One of your tenants is, "Aid is not to be sought, or accepted, lightly". Also, "Contracts and preferred if they heavily favor one party over another". These words of flattery back and forth are fine, but what is it you are actually wanting? I have not usually found slavers fond of going about seeking friendship."
"What I am saying is, The Doctor asked a simple, but profound question. Who are you and what motivates you to do this for us? We Ustalavians have a saying, "Beware of friends who come in the mists", because you cannot see them clearly or what they may bear. Why would you offer to assist us without knowing any of us and what do you seek to gain from it?"
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Edward's assistant staggers down the docks, barely moving under her load. Over her left shoulder is slung a bulging backpack, under her right arm is precariously balanced an enormous bag, and on her back is a strange, giant looking reversed crossbow with arms spreading like small wings. Perched on top of that is an enormous raven - almost like some sort of orcish war totem.
Finally making her way over to Edward she grunts as she dumps the bag and backpack unceremoniously on the ground and shoots him a filthy look. Now clearly visible she can be seen to be relatively attractive, wearing highly practical, yet primitive clothes with little decoration except feathers, scraps of fur and a few tiny skulls.
She kicks the backpack, which makes a dull ringing noise for a moment. "What?" she asks Edward.
Severin bows to Aldous and Amos, "I will endeavor to visit after my business is concluded, I will sorely miss the adventure of accompanying your troupe."
He face turns visibly sour at Ivan's words. "Slaver? I'd admit to being a flatterer," he flashes a cold smile, "but slander is slander Sir, and so you have impugned my honor. As a gentleman, I will give you once chance of apology, or we will duel."
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"What's happening?" asks the new girl of Edward, unslinging her crossbow "Are we fighting? Which ones are ours?"
Not having a good read on the newcomer, Aldous steps between the two men, fishing some tobacco from his sash as he does so. "Now, now, gentlemen. There's no need to sink our mission before it even gets started. I dare say much more than your honor will be impugned, Master Severin, if 'our great liege' found that little squabbles contributed to the failure of a grand scheme, and you and I are both intelligent enough to know that wheels within wheels are spinning here, beyond the ken of us mere pawns, as skilled as pawns as we may be."
Hoping that he's done a good enough job of playing to the Asmodean's religion and vanity, Beauturne turns from the Chel. Lighting his pipe and looking to the Droht, the Doctor cocks and eyebrow and takes a long pull on his pipe. "As I said to Master Severin, our liege will be unhappy I'm sure to know that we've squandered our opportunity before even leaving Ardis." Patting Ivan on the shoulder, the Doctor begins to walk towards the boat, speaking low in Varisian as he goes. "N-am juca până nu știu regulile casei, Droht. Spadă aceasta cuiva arata bine utilizate."
The Doctor's hand twitches, and he rests his fingers on the crossbow dangling from his hip, just in case, while somewhere in the back of his mind, a high-pitched keening begins...
Severin nods in agreement, "It was a base insult, but not a severe one, should it come to blows, the terms will be to first blood, unless your man here insists otherwise."
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"Those," the Doctor says, the slightest grin playing on his face, "are terms we can all live with."
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Annoyance crosses Edward's face for a moment and he gestures for her to stand down
"We're not fighting. A matter of honour has come up. The Gentlemen may duel. I for one hope they do not."
Amos watch the 2 men closely. The strong shall prevail over the weak that is the teaching of my lord. Perhaps this will be an opportunity to see just how weak these men are. If I am to ever to push my will on them, I will need to know their weaknesses.
Let them fight. An offense has been given and taken.
"He said they were fighting. Hey - could we start a..."
"No! And it's duelling. Shh. Take the bags on board. Follow the Doctor."
Grumbling Mircalla grabs the bags, precariously balances them and lumbers after the retreating Aldous.
"Hey! Hey! Doctor!" she calls out, loudly.
Well this escalated quickly, please gentlemen, stand down. There is no need to waste resources here, we have a long road ahead. Thank you sir for the help, we would be fools to make an enemy so early in our journey As he says that he gives a pointed look at Ivan.
The Doctor watches Edward's Assistant stumble towards him, heavy under the weight of the Earl's baggage. Moving forward, he takes what he judges to be the heaviest bag from the woman. "Yes, miss. What do you need?"
Ivan looks over to the pentagram covered warrior Amos.
"So Amos with this verbal contract I can be assured, that for as long as we are allied, your sword shall be mine, that you will defend and fight along side me and everyone of the party, no? How does that apply here, because you urge me to fight?"
"I did not hear any conditions placed on that."
He considers what the doctor and the other have said to him.
"Hummmm, to first blood, conditions favorable to a Mendavian Adder which needs only one strike for its venom to take. The rapier is quick like an adder is it not? Quick and agile, not the strongest of bites, but adept at finding its mark."
"You are right, I shouldn't have inferred that you are a slaver. I have no personal knowledge that you are such a person. For this I apologize. For sake of diplomacy, I am not saying your sword is an adder either, I was simply making literary comparison."
Amos has a puzzled look on his face. He looks conflicted. I am conflicted. Interfering with a duel does seem quit unhonorable. But you are correct in my sword being ready to defend you. Should you only ask, I shall step in and fight either along side you or for you as you request. I honor all contracts.
With that Amos draws his sword, and looks ready for a fight. He turns to Severin. Severin, please do understand, that I have entered into a verbal contract with these people. Asmodeus would never allow me to violate a contract, that is one of the most unsacred things to do.
ugh, very well do as you wish, Kyraska throws up his hands and heads off after Aldous.
The Doctor continues to help Mircalla with her bags, but keeps his attention on the two arguing men.
"While it is an unfortunate row we're witnessing, I do think there is some good to come of this. We're seeing how our companions react without time to think or plan. The Droht is hot-blooded, and prone to giving insults to those he doesn't care for. And we now know he has little respect for the Chels. Amos is so bound by his word that he'll kill a potential friend or ally, rather than break an oath. And Severin is quite possibly a slaver - often those quick to be offended are offended for a reason. Perhaps the Droht's insult cuts a little close to the quick."
"As long as no one kills each other, this will have been a very instructive moment."
I can see your point, do you need any further help with those bags madam?
Mircalla knows enough not to interrupt the conversation, waiting her turn.
"Just wanted to know which of these boats are ours."
The small woman is all to happy to let the gentlemen help her with her bags, beaming at them both.
"Thank you sirs! These weigh a ton! Very kind!"
She shoots a dark look back at Edward and turns back to the doctor.
"Wish I was your apprentice." she mutters quietly.
Severin puts his hand up to stay Amos, "By rights, that is so, any duelist may choose his champion."
He then considers Ivan, "An apology from a proud man is worth consideration, I accept it and wish you luck in your current endeavors. To which I will leave you, safe journey all, may we meet as better friends next time." He bows with a flourish of his hat, greets all sincere goodbyes warmly, then departs down the dock.
Amos has a very relieved look on his face.
Amos then turn to Ivan, with a very angry look on his face. Well that escalated quickly. Lets try not to start fights with potential allies in the future.
"Amos, for long as I can remember I have known Asmodeus is the lord of Hell, and hell is a bad place where Pharasma sends people to go when they die. I have been taught those who worship Asmodeus are wicked and depraved, and they seek to take advantage of, and dominate, those who are weaker than them."
"You are an enigma to me. You are a very interesting man, but I would not count that man (gesturing towards the receding figure) as a friend or ally."
"One must be careful of whom he allies himself with or those who come as friends behind masks and spending large amounts of money without an open and logical reason."
"Politics and what little history I know makes me suspicious of you and your people from Chelix, but!"
Ivan signals for Amos to allow him to finish.
"But, having said that. You are a man of your word and have proven that to me. While I do not understand you, I can respect you. I can work with you Amos, but my people and I live free and do not seek to labor under another tyrant, or have our children do the same ever again."