Teyran nodded, "That is all that I asked, and it will be done." True, Teyran had hoped to turn loose anyone who wished to flee Brevan Territory, but this did seem to be a decent compromise.
He turned back to Falgrim and added, "I do not wish to have men fighting for me that do not want to, it is a drain on morale that we can ill afford. I would have offered those without the stomach for war unrestricted access to the borders, but I suppose this is the best we have for the moment."
"Look on the tha bright side," Tad says, clapping Teyran heartily on the shoulder. "Right now their options are 'stay & fight', 'try ta sneak through a civil war', an 'try & sneak through a dangerous territory where even tha animals're up again' them'!"
"Sounds ta me like tha best o' a bad sit'ation."
Falgrim does not hesitate to frown as Varn continues. Falgrim does not seem overly happy at Antha's words, and just shrugs, “We have fought under several tyrants in the last year that used threats of violence and death to keep us from fleeing, what difference will another one make.” He nods to Morley, “Falgrim Sneeg.” Falgrim turned to Teyran, “Those of us that remain have seen everyone around us die to the Stolen Lands over the last year. A week ago we watched that vile druid and his psychotic lapdog get eaten by trolls, and the wolves set upon us. We may fear to die ourselves, but we have the stomach to fight for our survival.” Falgrim gestures towards Tad, “He has the right of it except I am fairly certain the lot of us are fools and we will all die here in this land. You haven't got a clue what is inching towards you from the south, do you?”
"Ah've known worse places, comp'ny'n causes ta die fer." Tad turns his predatory grin to Falgrim. "What say yer educate us?.."
Teyran nodded somberly. "We are, each of us, fools, and if we are to die, then this seems as fine a patch of ground to do it on as any other." The statement was odd, in that his words and tone seemed at odds with his previous resolve. It seemed to suggest that it was all a façade hiding a much darker outlook.
Teyran shook his head, not inclined to continue that line of conversation. He had that conversation often enough in his head that it needn't be spoken. "Regardless, I have heard of little of late but the doom that encroaches from north and south, but we will surely gain from hearing of this threat. Speak, if you would."
Falgrim frowns and nods, "The short of it... An army of trolls are slowly making their way up from the south forcing the other monsters to join them and eating everything that doesn't... and some that do. That is why we fled the Tuskwater. That vile druid..." Falgrim spit as if just describing the man left a bitter taste in his mouth. "claimed they were allies sent to aid us from his goddess to bring the Stolen Lands to heel... the massive troll that called himself the Troll King ripped him apart along with his lapdog, Dovan, in sight of the walls of the fort. He threw the remains to a two-headed monstrosity to devour. The effect was immediate... we fled before the army of monsters."
::blink::
::blink::
"Well..." Tad replies, contorting his lips in consternation & contemplation.
"Well, mister Sneed, it seems as though we each have something the other wants: Swordlord Garess is rebuilding the fortifications a day's travel away, yet hasn't the men to hasten the building or fully defend it. You and your men are in need of somewhere to go. Teyran, Morley, Tad, Falgrim - would you not agree that Fortune may finally have caught up with us in this circumstance?"
Tad rocks his head from side to side but neither agrees nor disagrees.
Tad rocks his head from side to side but neither agrees nor disagrees.
Noting Tad's misgivings, and having some of his own, Teyran said. "And this troll army, where did it come from, exactly?" He let the question go when Antha spoke. "Oh never mind. I suppose we will do as best we can," He added in responce, indicating that this had not been his preferred outcome.
Teyran raised his voice, in the manner a commander would when speaking to his troops, and announced, "Falgrim Sneeg! You and the men loyal to you, from now until a time undetermined, are conscripts in service to. . ." He paused for a half moment, wondering to whose name he should pledge them. To claim Garess would be lending power to the sword council in all its newfound irrelevance. Claiming Lady Orlavsky, on the other hand, would reveal things that he would prefer to remain private, Morley's stray comment aside. Finally,he had it! "You are to answer to the charter members of the expedition to reclaim the Stolen Lands. From this moment on, you will be expected to act as a soldier would. If you cannot do that, I suggest trusting your luck to outrun the arrows of Varn's archers."
"If I had to wager a guess, I would say they came from the south. If the druid was to be believed they came from his green goddess." Falgrim offered with uncertainty. He looked to Antha, but his attention was drawn back to Teyran
A mummer began through the remains of the bandit army, but even though the columns shifted the men remained. Falgrim glanced back once to the bandits and looked back at Teyran, "It seems no one is interested in out running arrows at this time. Where are we to go? There is a convoy headed for keep, should we join it? Lead from the front? Bring up the rear?"
"We will lead. Let Varn's forces worry about our flanks. If this convoy hasn't been overtaken by now, I rather doubt that we will before we make it back."
That wasn't the whole truth of it, of course. Teyran may have forgiven them of their banditry in any legal capacity, but that didn't change the fact that these were highwaymen, robbers at the very best, but likely much worse. He wanted to keep them as far from civilians as he could.
Falgrim nods, "So be it. I will spur the men forward to lead the convoy." He goes to turn away but stops as he turns back to Teyran, "Oh, will there be anything else?"
Lady Orlovsky waits anixously for Falgrim to depart, before she approaches Teyran. "You did well to convince Master Varn without a fight to spare the bandits, but how are you doing to address it to the Sword Council tonight? Even though you represent Master Garess, your words will not necessarily carry the same weight as his own, being an outsider. The Sword Council is a prideful bunch and it will not be easy to sway them against Master Varn who is best situated to become the next Sword Baron. I don't envy you." She frowns, and manages to squeak out in a final burst of thought, "Maybe you should have challenged Master Varn, and taken his authority as a Swordlord." She puts her hands to her mouth in surprise, "Though peace is always desirable over fighting. May the Dawnflower shine light on your path." She quickly recovers from her outburst.
"I'n they don't accept, tha boys're no worse off'n better placed ta fend fer themselves.". Tad responds.
"That will be all." Teyran said with a smile, not certain if the man was mocking him or not.
When the Lady Orlavsky approached, Teyran bowed his head reverently. His tone and manner quickly changed after she spoke, however. "They would follow such a man? No wonder they are leading the march into exile." He paused for a moment before continuing. "The prospect having someone speak for me is growing appealing, though as Lady Scapegrace has said, there is little legitimate, recognized authority in this region, so it may come down to a challenge anyway. We shall see."
Lady Orlovsky nodded, "It seems that what Master Varn can not achieve with words, he can be achieved with rage. It may not be as simple as them following such a man, but more to do with who can challenge such a man." She holds her hands apart, "You may want to think about that. Master Garess can contest him, but that will likely result in a challenge anyways. The Sword Council tonight will likely hold a number of gambles, and determine what happens to the expedition, the soldiers, and even these refugees. "
Lady Orlovsky moves over to her brother, Thadeuzs, "I am sorry, brother, but it appears I remember far more of father's teaching than I meant too."
Tad steps over, embracing his sister awkwardly.
"Then I suppose I will be that man." Teyran said. "I have no fear of him, except from the consequences of his leadership. I will challenge him for his title, and that will bring this nonsense to a close. Unless I fail, in which case he will likely kill me. He looked at Antha, and continued. "If that happens, you have the scroll, use it to bring them in line. I have no desire to politic with this band of fools, but if I fail it will be up to the rest of you to ensure that they don't rekindle a failed civil war."
"I agree, Teyran: if we are to make a new future here, it will be best to do so based on honesty and goodwill rather than deceit and self-interest. Is there anything we can do to aid you, should you issue a challenge?"
The convoy of bandits, refugees, soldiers, and swordlords found the remaining journey to the once-derelict keep uneventful. Master Garess continued to push those that remained behind when he sent his men to defend the convoy hard to complete the repairs. It did not long for rumors of a Sword Council to get through the camp as the evening deepened. Master Garess had met with Lady Orlovsky privately when the convoy first arrived before he found himself busy with hosting the other Swordlords as getting ready a location for the Sword Council. He did not neglect to send a message to Teyran and company with an invitation to attend Lady Orlovsky at the Sword Council.
As the group approached they could hear Lord Varn's voice booming, "We have bandits in the midst of our remaining stronghold. We have an aggressive enemy to the north in the Surtova forces, and our city is occupied by them. Our baron is dead, and we must elect another one. I am the first blade, and I am the strongest, therefore, the most fit to lead. Who would challenge me in claiming the right of Sword Baron?" He roared the last part as a challenge.
Teyran had considered Antha's offer and declined, claiming that the fight was his to bear.
During the sword council, Teyran watched Varn as closely as he could, studying the other man, trying to determine if his heart was as black as Teyran suspected, or if he was just a reckless fool.
When Varn was finished with his boast, Teyran spoke up. "I will! You would throw your men away at useless counter attacks, and you have let your pride cloud your view of reality. If you are the greatest among the Sword Lords, then it is no wonder that Restov has fallen!"
As Teyran gaze pierces into Varn to strip away and lay part of his soul to bear the aged paladin comes to a startling conclusion, the man Maegar Varn does not have a black heart, he senses no evil in the man; Swordlord Varn is just a reckless fool, but the words were already out of the elder man's mouth.
Maegar Varn instantly clenched a fist, "How dare you. You pathetic washed-up nobody speak out in a council of your betters and denounce me."
Another man, one of Varn's supporters leaps to his feet, "You have no place here. This is a Sword Council. Guards have him removed!"
Angry low-spoken words begin to pass from one man to the next among those that seem to support Varn's might.
Kesten Garess raises, "Brothers. Calm yourselves. Master Rilskel has spoken with passion, and anger. What he truly means is that might alone will not win back our home, if we go to war with the Surtova in our weakened state with the Stolen Lands at our back we will be crushed. We need smart leaders. We need leaders with conviction and a different type of strength. And forget not that even Master Varn is not trained a Swordlord, he earned his position with his own strength! Our paladin ally may not be a Swordlord, but if he issued a challenge to Varn than he has the right to become one under our own laws!"
Tad, calmly having positioned himself to impede any attempt on the part of the guards to follow Swordlord Varn's order smiles amicably but implacably at them as he anticipates the direction matters proceed.
Maegar Varn look towards Kesten with fury in his eyes as his face began to redden under the rage. This must be his doing. He loses nothing if the outsider fails to defeat me, but if I am defeated than I lose my position. You trained him better than I suspected Ioseph. It was written on his face the distrust for the younger Swordlord.
He began to speak through clenched teeth. "It appears I underestimated you, Garess. I will accept the challenge of the outsider."
Teyran watched Varn warily for a moment, wondering what his words meant. He underestimated Garess? Why? Did he believe that Teyran was nothing but a pawn in some game of power? What foolishness.
Teyran scoffed, loudly. "Lord Garess learned of my intentions in the same moment you did. If he has organized for you to be challenged in this way, then he is clearly a master of schemes."
He turned to the rest of the swordlords, as if to speak, but then said nothing. If he won the fight against Varn, they would have to contend with him soon enough. If he lost the fight, he would likely die, and nothing he said would have meaning to them anyway.
Between Teyran and Kesten's words there was little the Swordlords that were solidly behind Maegar Varn could do, even Varn himself felt outmaneuvered so they cleared the center of the room that had been repaired as a meeting hall for the duelist to dispute their claims. Maegar Varn took his place as Teyran approached from the opposite side of the make-shift dueling ring.
"I will show no mercy to you, Paladin." Maegar Varn hissed out as he drew his blade. The fury was already in his eyes as his face flushed and his neck turned bright red as the blood began to pumping faster through him in his enraged state of mind.
Teyran drew his blade, and the two stared at each other as the seconds crept forward without movements from the two opponents. It was an instantaneous explosion of motion as Teyran tensed to strike and Varn sprung upon him with a solid blow from the dueling sword that he gripped in two hands. [To Hit: 20, Damage: 12]
It was a solid blow that bit into his adorned chain mail managing to bring blow from the aged paladin, but Teyran was not felled by the blow as he deflected the Swordlords' blade away from him as he twisted the greatsword expertly into an overhead blow that reigned down hard against Varn. The apparent-heir to be Sword Baron barely managing to not be cut in two by the blow with a last minute parry that didn't save him from a solid wound. [To Hit: 25, Damage: 17]
The blow did appear to wind the enraged Maegar though as he came upon Teyran again but couldn't break through his defenses for another wound. [To Hit: 10, Missed]
It was the next blow that sent a gasp through Varn's supporters and whispers through the Swordlords that were on the fence or sided against him. Teyran even though he had been blooded was fueled by his own righteousness as he twisted the greatsword with surprising ease and struck another blow against Maegar which crushed through his armor into his chest. There was sufficient blood flow for concern that came pouring out of his chest spilling through the links in his armor as glazed down for a moment than collapsed in a heap. [To Hit: 21, Damage: 18]
TEYRAN is victorious.
"And yer fellers wonder why yer lost..." Tad remarks, shaking his head disgustedly as he turns & walks from the tent.
When Varn fell, Teyran immediately sheathed his sword. He was no fool, he kicked away his opponent's weapon. He knelt down near the fallen warrior, and placed a hand on the other man's shoulder.Teyran closed his eyes as he focused.
If that wasn't enough to bring him about, Teyran would call for more skilled healers, otherwise he would address Varn. "If you were the sort to show mercy, I would have had no reason to challenge you. You are a fine warrior, but strenth is not leadership. You are a fiine warrior, and you may yet get the chance to fight for your country, but not in the way you would prefer. Now, retrieve your sword, and have your wounds tended."
Teyran would have preferred to take his own advice rather than give it. There was a maddening ache in his side where he'd been struck, and that, combined with the stress of the last day had combined into a deep seated desire to lock himself away somewhere and hibernate until the world was better, or destroyed. That was not an option, however. He refused to let anyone else see him in pain, least of all the sword council.
Antha watched the duel with unrestrained worry, one hand gripped tightly on Kesten's sleeve. Gasping in relief after Teyran delivered the final blow to end the match, she resisted her urge to rush to the older man.
Attending to more practical matters first, "Kesten," she asked quietly "With Varn's place on the Council taken by Teyran, how do we proceed?"
"And what of Varn? Politically... is he a wounded boar or is he on the spit?"
”I have no simple answer to that. Varn is not dead which means he could turn again. Likely best to exile him but that could make him a grave threat as we won't know when he could come back. He can still issue a challenge under the Sword Pact, no matter his position, just as Teyran did. I would suggest finding something far away to keep him busy there are several places in the Stolen Lands that could be used for that purpose.” Kesten offered with a spread of his hands before his face dropped into seriousness. ”Word came to me that Lady Orlovsky delivered Master Sellemius' last message to you?” He glanced about a moment before he continued, ”It was part of the plan from the beginning of passing the newly liberated Greenbelt to the expedition, but I was not sure what would happen now that Ioseph was dead.” He left the last statement hang in the air, but his expression was pained as if he had forced himself not to ask questions.
Teyran said nothing to the assembled mass, instead returning to his companions and speaking quietly. He smiled wearily at them before he spoke. "It seems the more we accomplish, the more remains to be done. As much as I regret to admit it, Varn was right: we cannot allow bandits, who reformed only to save their lives, to mix among the populace. I suggest we lead them to the Temple of the Elk and build a garrison there. It would provide a fine buffer between the fort and the forces to the south, and if they could be trusted, it would send a fine message to the faeries that we encountered that we are looking out for them as well."
As before, he tried to maintain composure, but his hand unconsciously drifted to his wound, and he was unable to hide his pained expression.
As Teyran explains his concerns & his plan for dealing with them; Tad, still disgruntled with the Swordlord's stupidity, makes his way back to his sister's entourage.
You will find your sister in the midst of her entourage inside of her pitched tent for the evening. Consider her knowledge of the usual lengths of the Sword Council meetings, she is surprised to see you.
Kesten listens quietly as Teyran speaks, and gives only a nod of agreement. "Truth is there. I already have word that Falgrim is among the bandits. However if I am at an impasse, to offer the duel for his honor then kill him while he leads the bandits would throw the fragile alliance into disarray. If they can prove trustworthy, and Falgrim leads them befitting an exiled Swordlord then his honor could be restore in service." Kesten moves into a tangent of thoughts that spill out of his mouth, partially because he seems interested in Teyran's opinion.
"I agree with Teyran, Kesten. We can continue with our own exploration of this land to find homes, food, and industry for the people which will allow you and the rest of the Sword Council to worry about... everything else," Antha said. "I believe it the best solution for all."
"No wonder Da scarpered off!" Tad explodes, slumping sullenly as his ire slowly recedes.
"Varn is a barbarian. Born and raised. A man that grabbed his title with strength. Even... Ioseph... expected he wouldn't hold any true power." She gave a soft sigh when mentioning the former Swordlord, before continuing her words. She moved to a small chest as she drew a key from her person and slide it into the lock. It opened with a turn and she pulled another scroll from the chest. "He drafted... suggestions... to Varn, Kesten, or anyone that earned the command of the Council." She held the scroll to her chest as she lost her voice a moment, "I am afraid this is the last of his help."
Kesten nods, "Speaking of exploration, there are some gnomes that came to rest in the keep before your return which had been an expedition of sorts that were mapping the region for their cartography guild or something. They may have detailed information about the Greenbelt." He offered to the party as he looked back towards the tent where the Council had begun to fill once again. "We still have to deal with them. Someone will attempt to rise in the vacuum left by Varn if we don't." He shrugged, "I am not really the commanding type. Not like Master Sellemius was, even if he tried to mentor me in leadership. I prefer a good fight, a good woman, and a good drink... not necessarily in that order."
Teyran nodded, the pain was beginning to dull, though he didn't know if that was a good sign or bad. "I would be interested in speaking to them at the first opportunity. If we could make allies of another set of explorers, we could have this region mapped all the quicker. There is also the fact that if they are on our side, it lessens the likelihood that they would sell their maps to our enemies if war comes to the Stolen Lands. . ."
When Garess looked back at the tent, Teyran did as well, looking over his shoulder. He turned back to the others and sighed wearily. "Politics," He said, "I left my order all those years ago to escape it, and now it hounds me like a starving dog after a hare."
He turned his attention fully to Garess, and his words seemed more like a request than an opinion. "If we cannot have a friendly ear as Sword Baron, I would rather there be none. Let them bicker and squabble amongst themselves while we secure this region. With any luck, when they come to a decision, they will find themselves irrelevant."
"I agree, Teyran, on the importance of securing the goodwill of the explorers. But however much the Sword Council frustrates you, remember that their decisions still affect what we want to do here and that - at least for the moment! - we are still reliant upon Kes-... er, Lord Garess' supplies and fortifications for rest. I understand all too well your feelings, but we need to be practical about things. Teyran, Morley: would you like it if I act as 'ambassador' for us in dealing with the Council from now on so that you don't have to?"