Willing herself not to show her fear, Rahaal puts her hand on Abadar's golden key and prays, "Master of the First Vault, bless our negotiations with clarity, understanding, and mutual benefit."
Then looking the chief in the eye she says "Thank you, Great Chieftain, for hearing us out. You lead your people and lands with wisdom and a strong hand. Even if we had the might to do so, we wouldn't want to interfere with that. Rather, we seek to bring order, justice, and fair commerce to the lawless reaches overrun with bandits.
"It seems that--unawarely--we have trespassed on Raging Claw land. For that I ask your forgiveness. Let us start again, if you would. While your might is great, perhaps there is yet something that we can offer to you, as neighbors. Perhaps trade with Restov, for good you can't easily produce? If you would care to, I have a Kellish treat that I've brought with me from Absolom, we call it chocolate. Perhaps I can share some with you, as a sign of good faith? And perhaps you can tell us if there's any way you see--in your wisdom--that we might be friends, allies, or good neighbors to the Tiger Lords? Surely even the mighty can use allies."
The chief listens intently to Rahaal's speech, and replies, "You provide empty words and false promises. My men have watched your activity for some time, your camp along the river. We know you have few warriors and few weapons. And the people of the Lake have long made it clear they would see us destroyed before returning the lands they stole from us ages ago. No. The things you offer are of no interest to the Tiger Lords. If you wish to prove the value of your lives, you will have to offer something with more substance than that."
He pauses for a moment, sizing up the whole of the group, before continuing.
"You claim to be here to tame the lands of those who would take from us. Yet, your people have brazenly begun building structures upon our hunting grounds. What say you to this?"
Serafina becomes more nervous at the chief's response, her manner antsy. She wished they had had the opportunity to plan out the encounter, but unfortunately their captors had them marching the whole way. Her impatience and anxiety getting the best of her, she steps to Rahaal's side.
"Great chief, it is true in our ignorance we started to construct a fort, a base from which to sally forth and clear evil-doers such as the bandits we slew from this land. Surely there is room enough for both Tiger Lords and our group?" Her speech steadily speeds up, before she takes a deep breath and calms back down.
"We have many talents, wise one. Is there a task we could perform for you? A trouble that perhaps we could solve? We acknowledge the supremacy of your tribe over this region, but would like to become friends, to stand together against the bandits and the wild."
"Tell him we'll take care of the lake people," Miloslav suggests. "Return to them part of their stolen lands in exchange for being able to live on the rest."
The chief turns to focus on Serafina as she talks, though a man among the number of warriors in the room steps towards her aggressively. He stops instantly, however, when the chief holds up a hand, halting him. He takes a couple steps back to where he previously stood, allowing her to finish speaking.
"Yes, you have displayed more than one example of ignorance to these lands already. How so, being so ignorant, do you hope to offer us anything that we could not handle ourselves?"
He then turns to Miloslav, adding, "You would travel north and deal with these 'Surtovas' and force them to do what generations of our forces could not? I doubt that. Their forces are strong, and they believe the land to be theirs by right."
He leans back in his chair and thinks quietly for a moment, looking over his men, namely the warrior that led the group that captured you.
The chief raises a hand, replying, "Silence, Gromag. There is a reason the Lake-men keep sending these groups to our lands. I intend to determine the cause once and for all."
Gromag steps forward as he says, "It doesn't matter! We have defeated both groups sent forth without a single loss! Now that the prophecy has been fulfilled, nothing can stop the Tiger Lord Clans! With the return of Armag, we will crush the Lake People and take back our ancestral homes, once and for all!"
The chief scowls at the man, saying "You put too much faith in this Armag. Do you not remember that he was defeated once before?"
The large man continues to speak against his chief. "Yet you knelt before him, swore fealty to his forces. You know what he is capable of. Are you saying you were mistaken? If so, are you worthy of being this clans chief?"
A murmur of excitement ripples through those gathered as they watch the stand off developing. The chief stands from his seat, and responds hatefully, "You think to claim the title for yourself, boy? You ready to challenge me for the right to rule the Claw?" as he speaks, his eyes flare red with an inner power and his hand drops down, an energy building within his mostly closed fist.
Gromag glares at his father for a long moment, before turning and storming out of the building. Several of his warriors follow suit, though the largest number remain behind.
Chief Tikron sits back in his seat after the dispute, his breathing heavy. He silences any attempts to speak to him for a few moments by holding up his hand, but once he catches his breath, he turns to face the captives once again.
"Among the clans of the Tiger Lords, there is but one thing we value. Strength. It comes in many forms, but to prove your worth to us, it must be displayed. So far, you have failed to do so. However, I give you one chance to do so, which is more of a chance than I am required. Choose one of your number to represent you as champion, and we shall see if your lives have any substance."
"A test of blades?" Serafina sounds doubtful, looking at the departing warrior who had stepped forward with a grim expression. "To make sure our ignorance does not strike again, are there any rules for this contest? What is the objective? Just to slay the other?"
"If none of you are willing, I have fought several duels. I will stand for us if necessary," Miloslav says. He wears an expression of grim determination, or perhaps it's resignation. It's hard to tell.
"I am certainly no swordsman, that is for certain." Andrezi begins to stroke his beard and appears deep in thought after speaking. The smallest hint of a smirk appears, but he keeps whatever thought or idea that amuses him to himself.
His goat cocks his head at his master, confused as to why he's feeling a feeling of evil delight coming from their empathic link.
"The Surtovas are a bunch of beckstebbing, boot-licking whoremongers thet snuck into a throne they did not earn!" Erimriel blurts out, the first hint of actual anger any have heard creep into her words. "Restov respected strength too, when they bowed to dregons. But the dregons are gone. I do not fear House Surtova! They are a cowardly shedow of the House they stole!"
"I will fight with Miloslav! Send two of your chempions against ours, end I will show you what true strength is, old one."
Tikron holds a hand up to silence the eager combatants. "What kind of leader would I be to risk the lives of one of my men just to test your strength? Strength squandered is no strength at all. The fight will be without weapons. If you wish to have two champions face two of mine, so be it."
Chief Tikron commands his warriors out to the courtyard, and asks for a volunteer to act as champion for the Raging Claw. A muscle bound man steps forward, and the group is led outside.
The bonds on Erimriel and are cut free, and the Chieftain says, "Remove your armor, lest you wish it forcibly done so."
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Erimriel grins as her bindings are severed. She begins unfastening the buckles of her chain shirt, and stretches vigorously once the armor has been removed. When she rises back to her feet, she flexes the muscles in her legs, arms, and upper body. Her bulk increases slightly as her musculature shifts to a proportion more like a half-orc than human. She tosses a few practice jabs at the open air then grins again. Hitting her knuckles together, Erimriel steps forward and stares down her intended opponent. Her breathing becomes controlled and she remains stationary for several minutes, waiting. . .
The champion of the Tiger Lords tenses, then Erimriel springs to life, closing the distance in a blur of speed. She shifts her weight with a surprising alacrity. Whirling past the barbarian's guard, she hooks her elbow hard into the man's left temple.
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The man roars in rage as Erimriel strikes him in the head. He responds by grasping her hair and bending her over forcefully, then driving a fist down into her face.
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Erimriel spits a mouthful of blood into the enemy champion's face before slamming her head into the man's brow. She draws her right fist back in preparation to unleash another blow if necessary, but the man topples backwards from the force of her headbutt.
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Miloslav grins and claps quietly after Erimriel drops the tribe's "champion" in two blows. "What think you of our strength now, Chieftain?" he asks the chief respectfully.
The barbarians gathered about the circle fall silent for but a moment before clamoring out in their tongue harshly. Those of you that can understand the language hear them calling out for your heads, despite the victory.
Tikron steps forward and bellows out, growing in size to that of a giant as he shouts:
The gathered crowd falls silent, and begins to disperse. A pair of warriors step forward and carry away their unconscious friend, and the chief returns to his normal size. He steps over to Rahaal and says to her, "Well done. I apologize for the need to go through that, but tradition demands it. And, perhaps it has bought you some time. Walk with me, all of you. We need to talk. I shall take you to Aegild, our shaman. She shall tend to the injury of your champion."
As he walks, he says, "We are but one part of a whole. The Tiger Lords are a collection of clans throughout this land that, in ages past, were once united. With the fall of our great leader, Armag, the war bands were splintered, and lost much of our ancient homelands to self conflict. For the past few years, a tenuous peace kept us from losing more of our people to one another, but that is all changing... Here. This is Aegild's hut," he gestures to a small hut decorated with the bones of various animals, with small plants growing to one side in a garden. He announces himself in his native tongue before stepping inside, gesturing for you all to follow.
Aegild is a young woman, in her early twenties, with long black hair. Her face and arms are tattooed with a variety of runes and depictions of animals. Dangling from the walls and ceiling are more aerial's made of animal bone, and several hides hang on the walls with more strange runes upon them. Tikron nods towards Erimriel and Aegild looks at her swollen cheek and jaw and says, "Come, lie down here," as she gestures to a place on the floor near the fire.
As she sets to work gathering things, Tikron looks at the gathered group and says, "Before I continue, I must ask: What would you do if left alone here. Speak truthfully, for I have shown you more of a courtesy than you likely can understand, yet."
"We would explore the region and eliminate banditry and other lawlessness from it. That is the task we have been given. Peaceful trade between our peoples would also be looked upon favorably," Sasha explains.
"I'm here to beat beck anything dumb enough to cross us. It got boring sitting idle with a bunch of stuffy Brevics all the time. Pricks only seem to care about this House or thet House, or this noble bret offended thet noble bret, so now they hev to swing their little swords et one another to prove which one is more pompous then the other." Erimriel rises from the ground to a crouch, ignoring the fussing of the healer tending to her. "I'd rether be out here dealing with bendits and exploring then spend another moment listening to little boys with skinny arms bleat about how honorable they are."
Erimriel looks to her companions gathered nearby, then back to Tikron. "I think you don't hev much to worry about with these few. They seem to mean well enough from what little time I hev spent with them. Perheps we cen find a new place to set roots—something we hed discussed when first we arrived here—end only esteblish a river crossing where mister Girndmar end his laborers are building now?"
Serafina merely nods along with her companions' comments, thinking they have covered everything quite well.
Chief Tikron looks at Erimriel and says, "So you intend to build a home for yourselves here? Then heed my advice: there is a river to the south, the lands beyond are not claimed by our people. There you will reduce the exposure of our peoples, and thus reduce conflict. If you wish to continue to build your fort to the east, I will allow it as long as you do so in peace and remain off of Tiger Lord lands. The Raging Claw is the nearest of the tribes to the river, and the others do not travel those lands. Keep to the lowlands, and there can be peace between us."
"A question, Chieftain. Would you object to a road between this area south of the river and the river crossing and fort currently in construction?" Sasha asks.
Serafina nods, exhaling in relief. She smiles thankfully at the chief, her companions, and whoever else happens to be around. "You are very wise and gracious, Chief. We thank you for your understanding and desire to have a peace."
The sorceress remains all smiles, but her body language tells a different story. It tells of a desire to leave, get the hell out of dodge, before the chief or one of his underlings has a change of heart.
"I agree to those terms without reservation," Miloslav adds. He offers the chieftain a short bow from the waist, and a smile.
The chieftain eyes the young boy suspiciously before answering, "Certainly a path would be made between the two. That seems only a natural course of action," he then shifts his gaze to Serafina before replying to her, "And one does not always get what they desire."
He sighs and says, "My daughter here can witness the troubles growing in our lands. My son is impatient in his youth, and the prophecies of the Black Sister have convinced a large number of our younger warriors that they will be the generation to beat back the Lake Men and reclaim our ancestral lands. I expect him to soon make a serious challenge for the right to rule, and in my age, I do not expect I could hold him off. For now, the memory of my former strength has been enough to hold him at bay, but soon that likely won't matter."
He looks to you all before adding, "Fortunately, our tradition requires him to accept my laws as his own, unless he has good reason to overturn them. This may be your only hope. I will command that your fort and home to be respected, and no unprovoked harm are to come to your people. That will hopefully give you some time, should he claim my place, to show him the error that I feel lies in the teachings he has grown up having poisoned his mind."
Once Aegild has concluded her work, he says, "Go now, in peace, before he does something to force my hand. For now, your people have nothing to fear from the Raging Claw. If you encounter the other clans, however, that may be another matter..."
Serafina dips a shallow curtsy, then quickly exits, taking his words to heart. She reclaims her goods, wherever they might be, and makes ready to travel, waiting for her companions so they can determine exactly which way to go.
Rahaal keeps her mouth shut, but her face shows how little regard she has for matters of justice being decided by combat. These are truly backward, savage people then. Neither Justice nor Fair Commerce will have a place here until they change...or are changed. I pray that we can persuade them of the benefits of a Just Society and Fair Commerce peacefully...but these peoples deserve more even if it take might to overcome their backwardness.
Nonetheless she's relieved and grateful at how Erimriel brutally dispatches the burly savage, and breathes a sigh of relief when their fate is decided.
Rahaal listens with interested to the chief--realizing that he's a bit more forward thinking than many in his clan. She asks, "Chief--or Aegild--if I may, I'd be very curious to hear more of these prophecies of the Black Sister."
"Don't worry, gremps, we'll steer clear of your hills. Just don't go dying on us before we cen get our walls set up proper-like!" Erimriel flashes Chief Tikron an unsettling grin, not helped by the dried blood splotched around a nose that had been busted open previously.
"Speaking of walls, mester Dolgrin is probably starting to wonder ebout us."
The chief looks to Rahaal and answers, "I've only met them once, about three years ago. But they had arrived among our people about 20 years before that, spreading word of Armag's return. And now, they claim he has done so, and the man claiming the name has one by one forced the splintered clans to unite beneath him. That was the only time I got a good look at them, when I was forced to yield to him. They are women clothed entirely in black, their faces shrouded behind masks. That is all I can say."
"I graciously thank you that my head remains attached to my neck, good chieftain. Rest assured that our agreement shall be honored as long as it remains as such, my head being attached that is," Sasha says, saluting the chieftain and taking his leave.
As they take their leave, Serafina breathes a sigh of relief, turning to the others with a satisfied grin. "Well that went about as well as could be hoped for. Our heads stay attached, and we have the leave of the locals to continue as planned."
If no one has anything else to do, she again offers her horse to Rahaal before they set out, determined to make it back to camp and take a long-deserved rest.
The group manages to depart the village of the Raging Claw tribe without any further incident beyond several harsh glares from some of the inhabitants.
As you ride back to their campsite, you can see that Dolgrin has managed to build another building near the other one, and it appears to be a mirror image of it's predecessor. As you approach, he flags you down and says with a smile, "I go' tha las' o' tha bunk'ouses under roof, so now most o' us can a' least sleep in a bit o' comfort 'ere now. Ya'll were gone a long while 'is time...wha' took ye?"
"Just making nice with the locals. Nice work here, Dolgrin! You and your men work very quickly!" She smiles as she praises the man, playing down the near-disastrous incident so the dwarf won't get spooked.
She turns to her companions. "I'm beat after all that travel. I'll see you in the morning." She goes to the newer bunkhouse and finds herself a spot to lie down.
Tiger Lords," Miloslav elaborates. "We came to an agreement with them, but I'd keep your folks from heading north anywhere. We promised to stay off their land."
Dolgrin raises an eyebrow at Miloslav. "Tiger Lords, ye say? Tha tribesmen? By Torag's freshly forged cod piece, what kind o' arrangement can ye make with tha' bunch tha' ye can trust 'em ta honor?"
He scowls and looks to the camp, and says quietly, "Best nay mention it ta tha boys. Nay unless ye wanna see abou' 'alf yer workers up an' missin' come mornin'. Ah'll be lookin' ta me plans, see wha' changes Ah need ta make. Ah'm open ta suggestions, if'n ye got any."
Serafina ponders for many minutes, slowly nodding to herself.
"Walls, for sure. All three sides. As our stake here inevitably grows, we'll come into conflict with these barbarians at some point, whether we honor our agreement or not. There's also the 'regular' bandits to be concerned about. These minions of this Stag Lord are not apt to look keenly upon an intrusion of order upon their carved-out stake."
"Sure, walls sound fine. We should find where we plen to build something more permanent soon." From her disinterested tone, it's clear that the ongoing development isn't of great concern to Erimriel. Only just returned, she's already eager to get back out into the wilds and see what else the region has to offer.
"I know nothing of building forts. I came here to take wealth and find glorious battle. Let us return to the south and hunt some more bandits," Miloslav suggests.
The sorceress nods at Miloslav's suggestion. "Aye, he's half right, at least. I'd prefer easy battle, but either way, the bandits beckon." The woman wears a wry smile as she goes to drift off to sleep so they can get an early start.
"I concur, walls first. I'd say start on the gatehouse for the river crossing, if we're not back in time to decide." Sasha says. "You are correct Serafina and Miroslav, there is much more work to do with bandits."
"It's settled, then! Walls it is!" Serafina smiles expansively at the summoner before trudging off to bed. Getting what she wanted always put her in a good mood.
Rahaal listens to the discussion of what to build first with a troubled expression. What to build where, in what order? I don't doubt that it's important...but what do I know about it? What I want is a comfortable bed!
Now if we needed advice on courts or trade agreements perhaps, but...why was I sent out her in the first place?! Of course my superiors had their reasons but--(looking over her stained, sweaty traveling clothes, feeling the ache in her butt from riding all day)--I can't say I can fathom them. The wilds are no place for me.
When talk turns to where to explore yet, Rahaal nods. "I'm game to travel South on the other side of the river. I don't know if we'll encounter more servants of the so-called Stag Lord or what but it seems as good a place to explore as any.
"For tonight though, I need some food that doesn't come from a rations sack...and perhaps a game of Dancing Loons or Jester In The Corner? Something to make these wilds more bearable."
"Walls.. are never a bad idea, though that fortified common room also sounds like a good idea - except for how long it would take, of course." Before he heads to bed for the night (sleepy as he is, constantly yawning), Andrezi cooks up some of the frogs he's collected for anyone who's interested in some good, old-fashioned frog-legs, with a side of frog-stew.
And then, after he's had his share of his meal, he falls fast asleep, leaving someone else to clean up his mess.
"A fortified common room is certainly something that I think should be done, but walls around our builders so they can safely build said room should come first, in my opinion."