Gorn-Rel gathers Aranatha up in a fierce hug. "It is good to see you face again, sister. There have been moments these past few days that I doubted I would."
Setting his little sister back down, Gorn-Rel responds, "Yes, I heard about father. It is why I left the trade negotiations. How did he die? I have seen Hok-Rel defeat many mighty foes. His loss is a terrible blow to the Black Crowns, but one that we will overcome. Is Namanda's legacy secure? Do any of the elders survive, so that our teachings may continue? How fare our brothers? The only thing more precious than Namanda's lore is the blood of Korthog."
Though Gorn-Rel presents a stoic mien, his little sister knows how to read him. Gorn-Rel grieves, but he will sacrifice any grief -- any sentiment -- on the altar of practicality. Their father was dead, but their people survived. His first duty is to the living. The iron will does not weep.
"I could bring some Collard Wrap Springrolls, alongside some hot tea. The rolls are leaves wrapped around spring vegetables marinated in ginger, sesame, tamari and lemon juice.
"He died, he died saving..."
"He died fighting for the people and his family, Gorn." Comes a new voice. You turn around. Behind you is your brother Samar-Rel. "To be more specific, Sordiko and Aranatha led a contingent of troops to defend some foodstuffs they thought were important. They said that 'without it our people would starve'. Idiot. Demons don't care anything for food. They have no use for it.
They later sent message that they were surrounded, so father and I led a rescue team to save them. We were ambushed along the way by creatures of shadow. I was cut off..."
Aranatha bows her head in shame. "Yes, it is our fault. We overextended ourselves, and father's life was forfeit because of it."
"You and Sordiko are both fools! You should have come to me first! Now father is forever gone!"
Samar-Rel takes a deep breath, to calm himself.
"I can assign blame later. Come Gorn, Nameris is safe for now. Lets have you go see father. Then we can discuss father's will and the city's problems.
Gorn-Rel frowns at his brother's words. So quick to assign blame, Samar-Rel? Resentment will not aid our family.
But Gorn does not speak those words. He knew that the best way to soften Samar-Rel was not through open conflict. His brother would not bow before any threat. Confrontation simply made him harder. Kindness. Respect. These were his brother's weaknesses.
With that in mind, Gorn clasps Samar in a brotherly embrace. "It is good to see you too, brother. I assume you have had the oracles or those priests attempt to raise Father. Do they know why it was unsuccessful? A change of rulership is not in our best interests at the moment. We need Father."
There is a brief crack in Gorn-Rel's stoicism, "I'm not ready for him to be gone."
"That sounds very nice, thank you." replies Varda. After a pause, she adds, "What is your name?"
Samar-Rel shakes his head. "Just before father died, I saw some robed and hooded caster reach out and touch father's face. He wore a tailsman shaped like a bull's head. Whatever sorcery he cast, was powerful. Our oracles have tried and failed to raise him Gorn. From what I understand, whatever binds him to death, requires more power than what they can cast."
You arrive at the end of the hallway. "Our father's body is within the room here. Take your time Gorn. I know I did, and I probably will again. I'll be in the meeting room downstairs."
@Varda & Aenthurien
"Chipieg Tien, my lady." he responds, lowering his head.
The short woman smiles. "Well then, Chipieg Tien, after we have eaten would you be willing to show us around your city?"
She looks over at Aenthurien. "Assuming, of course, that you'd like to come?"
A problem. Problems were something Gorn-Rel could address, goals that could be accomplished.
"A Bull's head? That caster was most likely a cultist of Baphomet. I have been vying with his followers these past few days. What powerful magic has done, powerful magic can also undo. Here is what I would like to have you begin while I view our father. First, have father's body magically preserved so that he does not decay, if you have not already done so. This will aid in his return. Second, begin researching what sort of magic was needed to accomplish this. All spells have their weaknesses. Third, have our oracles and priests begin to divine who has done this to Father. Once we know who has father's soul and how to break the spell, we will seek out this cultist and show him what kind of mercy the blood of Korthog has to its enemies."
Aenthurien looks up absently at Varda, then turns his attention to his host. "Um, yes, that would be lovely."
Your brother looks at you strangely. "I suppose I underestimated you big brother. Some time ago you would have appreciated the dumbed down version that I gave you. I see that you've gained a bit of experience over the last few days while you were away. I suspect you'll have quite the story to tell us over dinner tonight.
I already ordered that the Gentle Repose spell be cast on father's body. I fear though that it may be pointless. The reason why we can't raise father is because I believe our father was slain by necromantic magic. As such, it will require a resurrection spell to have any chance of bringing father back. However, we do not currently have the resources to cast it. Baring some miracle that we can find a holy man of the 7th circle willing to cast it for us, we have no way to bring him back."
@Varda & Aenthurien
"Yes, my lady. As you wish." He departs to get your food, leaving the door open.
A few moments later, another hobgoblin passes by the open door. He glances inside, and stops at the doorway. He is dressed in superbly maintained green and blue robes, and is adorned with several jewelry on his wrist and neck.
"So these are brother's guests, huh." He tilts his head slightly. "Father said not to take first impressions too seriously. However, you three don't impress me much."
"I beg your pardon." replies Aravashinial.
"Your father was wise." replies Varda mildly.
@Varda & Aenthurien
He raises an eyebrow. "He was."
A short pause.
"I am Nimander, son of Hok-Rel. What is your name, human?"
"I am Varda Beardedheart, daughter of Thoric Noblehammer of the Blacklock clan. Why do you resent your brother, Nimander of Namaris?"
@Varda & Aenthurien
"Resent? Hardly. He is a strong leader and a good person. He and I merely don't see eye to eye on certain subjects. Now human, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."
He gives a polite nod, and leaves you alone.
A little while later, Chipieg Tien returns with your food and drink.
"My lady, here is your meal. If you need anything else, please ring the bell on the table. I will be right down the hall.
Gorn-Rel gives his brother a sly smile, but otherwise does not rise to the insult. Your barbs are losing their sting, brother.
"Money, favors -- these are no obstacles to our blood, brother. These challenges only strengthen us.
Gather our siblings. There are things they must know of the events of the past few days. Things that have happened to me and to some of our guests. We must plan for the future, and we must do so secretly. Ensure that none will overhear or disturb us."
The hobgoblin prince then enters into the room where Hok-Rel rests. He stands over the corpse.
He looks down at the man who taught him how to lead, how to speak, how to act, and how to fight.
Your fight is not yet over, Father. You cannot rest until Namaris is made safe. You chose to stay and fight. You chose for our people to be a people instead of drifting apart defeat after defeat. You do not get to rest until you have seen this through, Father. I won't let you. I'm not yet ready to let you go. Our people are not yet ready to let you go.
Gorn-Rel stands like this silently railing at and praying to his dead father for the better part of an hour before seeking his siblings in the meeting room.
"Brothers, sister, the humans' wardstone net is gone. I and a few others -- two of which came with me -- have absorbed their power." He continues to tell them of the role he played in these events, his meeting with a goddess (in hobgoblin form), and of the state of Kenabres.
"The elven mage who came with me is a Rift Warden. He was blinded in the demonic assault. I helped rescue him, and I restored his sight to him. He is a valuable resource to cultivate. He has already proven his worth, and will continue to do so in the future. Aranatha, Samar-Rel, see what you can do to befriend him and what secrets of magic that the Rift Wardens have accumulated to fight demons that he will yield to you."
"Moreover, from what that goddess said, I believe that I will soon be meeting with the queen of Mendev. I believe that I will be able to negotiate peaceful trade and military alliance between our kingdoms. Now, what have you to tell me."
Varda chuckles softly. You do indeed have work to do, but I think you don't know what it is yet. You have much to learn if you wish to be like your father...
She smiles at the servant as he returns with the refreshments. "Thank you, Chipieg Tien."
Varda chuckles softly. You do indeed have work to do, but I think you don't know what it is yet. You have much to learn if you wish to be like your father...
She smiles at the servant as he returns with the refreshments. "Thank you, Chipieg Tien."
Nimander stands up. "The battle cost cost us dearly. We were over 6000 strong before the battle. Now, we are down to slightly more than 2000 people. Our outer defenses and buildings in the outskirts are also in shambles. Morale, as you can expect, is low."
"Not everything is horrible news. Most of the elders survived. Only one, Rok-Nath'al, perished during the attack. In addition, the wash of holy light from Kenabres destroyed all the demons that were attacking at the time. We still have hobgoblins from around Golarion joining our ranks daily, and we have enough soldiers to enforce order for now. Thankfuly, our food supply is enough to last for awhile."
"It will take time to rebuild, but we can. I know it, and it is what father would want."
Aranatha continues, "Of more importance is the fact that Rok-Nath'al was caretaker of father's written will. We all know that both you and Nimander were both groomed to be his successor, and that that document would declare which of you was to be named lord. Without it, we must decide between us who is most worthy to rule."
"Where is this will? Did it survive Rok Nath'al."
@aenthurien & Varda:
"Gorn-Rel, if we knew where it was, we wouldn't be having this discussion." Samar-Rel lectures. "It wasn't on Rok Nath'al's person, and it wasn't in his home. Either he hid it for safekeeping and didn't tell anyone, or his murderer took it from him. Our oracles and magic users cannot locate it. Either way, it is currently lost. The question is now what shall we do about it?"
Sordiko speaks out. "I suggest that, for now, we split up responsibility for ruling the city between all of us. None of us expected that this situation would come up, so we all need time to think. Gorn-Rel, as the eldest, can be temporary regent of Namaris until we decide which of us will become ruler. Besides, it has not been ruled out that our father cannot be brought back from the dead."
Nimander nods thoughtfully. Aranatha has a poker face on. Samar-Rel, however, speaks out.
"I respectfully disagree. We should pick a ruler here now, and bury our father. I want him back as well, but I do not see any convenient way to do so. Where are we going to find a magic user strong enough to raise our father? For that matter, how will we pay for such a service? Our coffers are not exactly flowing at the moment.
Gorn-Rel pulls out a silver scale and plinks it down on the table between them. "Aranatha, Samar-Rel, tell me do you sense the magic in this scale? It is from an ancient silver dragon and it retains some of her power. I had planned to present it to Father as a gift, but I think I might be able to trade it to one of the crusade's powerful priests in exchange for the magic necessary to restore Father to life. We need not bankrupt Namaris to restore Father to life. Though distasteful as some of the humans are, I have made several diplomatic inroads with them. Father was right. They can be put to use.
My suggestion is thus. Nimander, you are an excellent leader of our people. While you guide us internally until Father is restored to us, I will take sole and binding authority to negotiate with the other races and kingdoms. Each of us have gifts. Each can be of use."
The meeting lasts for the rest of the hour, as your family plans out the future. You are given leave as diplomatic envoy, and are free to return to Kenabres.
Whatever your character would want to do really. We are using the downtime rules in ultimate campaign. Those rules are available I'm the srd. Build relationships, work for gold, create items, explore, etc. Dont forget that characters will want days off from work or they will get burned out.
Gorn-Rel will make a point to introduce the three of you to his four siblings: Nimander, Samar-Rel, Sordiko, and Aranatha over dinner.
That night Gorn-Rel will ask Aravashnial what he knows of the more powerful divine casters involved in the crusade. Particularly, whether or not he believes any would be interested in exchanging a Resurrection for the scale of Terendelev.
Gorn-Rel will also corner his sister, Aranatha, that night. After making sure they are in private and swearing her to secrecy (she should love that), he will say I encountered a cult in Kenabres, the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth. We have been in these demon infested lands for less time, but we hobgoblins are no more immune to corruption than human paladins. Father's death and the missing will seem rather convenient. I need you to search out and destroy any traitors root and branch, no matter where your search takes you in Namaris." He will then reproduce all the intel he gather in Kenabres for his sister.
Converstation with Aravashnial:
I do not get much involved with the Crusade directly. This is something you should probably be asking the Irabeth. However, if you are looking for a caster of the 7th circle or above, it may be difficult to obtain one outside of the Church of Iomadae, at least in this region. I could probably count the number of priests who can cast that spell on one hand. Kenabres used to have one, but she died during the attack. They probably will be interested in the Scale, though I'm not sure if they would be willing to trade just one for a 10000 gp diamond.
The only other option I can think of that may have the resources required is the Pathfinder Society. I know they are operate in Mendev, but they are fairly secretive about their local headquarters. They are also close allies of my Queen. However, they would definitely be interested in your scale.
------------------
Conversation with Aranatha
"I will do my best. Are there any more copies of these papers?"
"A kitsune woman once told me that 'for all things there is a market.' Honestly, my friend I would not care who I traded it to if, they restored my father's life save the powers of the Abyss. If you think these 'Pathfinders' would give me such a deal, then I will seek them out. How would you suggest approaching them? They can keep their secrets as if they are willing to barter."
Gorn-Rel makes a point to offer the elven mage some choice Tien vegetarian fare during dinner. He is trying to cultivate the man's friendship beyond the stressful time they shared.
-----------------------------
"I brought you copies for this very purpose. We must know our enemies."
----------------------------
"Thank you both for coming. This is not a happy time for Namaris, but we will prove its equal."
@Gorn
Aravashnial says he will see if he can find a way to contact the pathfinder society for you.
Aranatha asks, "No, I meant who else has copies of these?
"The military leader of Kenabres."
She nods. "I'll keep that in mind. I need to get to work now. Shoo, shoo."
DAY 4
Gorn & party has a restful night in Namaris before leaving next morning back to Kenabres.
DAY 5-7
Aravashinal goes to see if he has contacts in the pathfinder society.
So far, I have:
Gorn-Rel - Performing ambassador duities for kingdom.
Frekhi - Retraining
Na'shok - Getting capital, building house, retraining
Varda - ?????
Aenthurien - ?????
[DAY 6]
After a day of training and gathering supplies for their future home, Na’shok and Larissa are in their room laying in their bed after a romp in the sheets.
”Master, I have a question.” Larissa says, her head on Na’shok’s bare chest. ”Earlier today I witnessed Irabeth and Anevia giving away their own property to some beggars on the street. Irabeth gave them her scarf, and Anevia passed them a little bit of coin. Why do they do that? Wouldn't they be better off keeping it for themselves?
After a long day of hard work and a rough tumble with Larissa, it takes an act of will to keep Na'shok awake but remembering his encounter with a certain butterfly jars him back to his senses.
"For some, there's more to life than survival and personal satisfaction", the burly orc explains as he teases the beautiful demon's hair. "For them, helping others is worth far more than the value of what they give up in doing so. Does that make sense?"
She lifts her head off your chest, and shakes her head indicating no. "I don't understand master. What satisfaction can they get by handing out their personal belongings? Why would they get satisfaction that way?"
Nash shrugs slightly, not understanding the principal terribly well himself. "Some consider it a higher calling - a better way to live. It shouldn't seem so impossible. Haven't you done something for another at the cost of your own well being? Why did you do it?"
"I... I don't know... I... think i did... once, maybe? Its... strange. I have brief flashes of... a sister?" She clutches her head. "Trying to remember is like swimming in thick maple syrup."
"Master, why do I feel so strange? Part of me feels that I should take what I want from anyone, and that anyone in my way are obstacles to be forcefully removed." He holds her hand over her heart. "But my dreams tells me that is wrong, that I should be doing the opposite, and helping others at the cost of my own. It is like my heart can't make up its mind."