The copper haired woman looked up from her desk “How did it go?” she asked to the dark haired beauty entering her office.
“As well as could be expected. Meaning S&~*, but acceptable S~~@.” the armored woman flopped in another chair, pulled her lame leg up to thud on the Baroness's desk. Which unfortunately dislodged quite a bit of dirt from her heavy boots onto the ledgers.
Chrysa gave Arri a raised eyebrow of What the F#!&, and was rewarded with a chastized look back from her fledgling general. “I’ll clean it after, promise.” which got a smile in return.
“And recruiting?” she asked looking back to her paperwork. All this wood she is harvesting has attracted a talented bowyer and his family. Chrysa is bankrolling his shop for a discount in arming her troops with his goods. Win win in her mind.
“Great actually. Our land might not be fit for much beside murder and banditry, but heck that hardens the folk more than a bit. Mix that up with paying them instead hunting them, we’ll be up past our ears in former brigands before week’s end.” a pause “Which is good cause I’ll have to break more than a few to get the others to understand the need of taking orders.”
“If you need help-”
“No I got it.” the warrior interrupted quickly. “The baker can concentrate on his own pies, thank you. My men will need to see it is me they need to fear, not someone who's busy with his hammer elsewhere most times.”
Most business covered, the two settled in with a lovely bottle of rum, that was declared ‘acceptable’ by the resident expert recently, discussing all matters of trade, violence, and other less enjoyable things.
------------------------------------
The wagon lurched slightly and the infant Annalla held up against her shoulder made a gurgling sound.
"I think Tristan likes the rough road," the android said to her wife as she continued to pat the baby's back. She took a moment to look Isabella over. The scowl on the woman's face was indication enough that she was not enjoying the wagon ride as much as her son.
"I know you wanted to ride," she continued. Therese and the other maid that shared the small compartment with them turned away to look out the small curtained window. This argument had been had many times over the last day or so. "But with two babies, horseback travel was just not feasible. And don't think that I don't notice how you attempt to hide your discomfort every time you sit a horse. You must give it time, my love."
Isabella removed Tremaine from her breast and traded infants with her wife.
Annalla proceeded to burp her dark-haired son and turned her gaze out the window as well. "And with the current climate at home it was not an acceptable option to leave them there."
Isabella offers an old retort Anna has heard a dozen times over "It's fine. I'm more useful to everyone out there then in here. You can hold them while I protect us. What if... What if a tribe of lizardmen fall upon us! Would you rather want me in here them at my breast or out there striking them down with my blade?"
Still, she relents as she takes the child from her wife without further argument. She looked way from Anna and finally asks what had been on her mind for sometime now "Do you blame me for what has happened at home? It would appear that when I'm left in control everything fell apart."
Annalla reaches out a single hand to rest it on Isabella's knee. "You carry no blame whatsoever for what happened at home. Why? Has someone said something? Tell me who is blaming you for the death of that woman and I will have ... a discussion with them."
A large belch emanates from Tremaine's mouth and then another similar noise from somewhere else.
"M'Lady?" the younger maid offers her hands as Therese pulls out a bag containing required gear for the changing of a baby. Annalla gives the dark-haired infant a few more affectionate pats before handing him over as the smell begins to permeate the small enclosure.
"And in answer to your first question, I'd rather you be by my side to protect our sons over anywhere else in the world," she says with a loving smile.
They had all turned against her. The solid Riversteels, the seductive Rina, ever sweet moon radish queen Svetlana, hells even the Baker politely turned his back on her on this one.
"A Baroness should not enter a rival kingdom on the back of a Mule." her diminutive diplomate insisted, calmly but with enough mirth in her musical voice to let her leader know she was truly enjoying this.
She relented eventually but refused the carriage that Tasha had procured for such visits. The gnome got to ride with Birgit the bard in that thing, while Chrysa rode a ridiculously beautiful black stallion. "Too big, too pretty, screams steal me." she heard the memory of Kan's voice tell her. She didn't think of him nearly as much as she used to, so the memory hurt fresh.
Besides that, the ride was pleasant. Her chosen companions both enjoyed banter to no end, so the three fenced with wit and word as the hours passed. A half dozen guards with bows and axes on horse and two driving the carriage filled out the rest of the delegation.
Sophiel had packed lightly, though she still went through her checklist as she prepares to drive her bison through the mountains to Varnhold. She had sent the missive to the lord of Candlemere, without receiving a response, but she was glad enough that Sootscale had resolved to meet her at the ford in the river, she at least would have his company, and perhaps others. She was somewhat indignant to hear that the little reptilian king hadn’t been invited to this event, a feeing which her advisors had shared. The Kobolds had been wonderful neighbors, with minor exceptions, and she made a note to speak to Varn about it, though they suspected he would not be receptive to such things.
She travelled alone, none would speak for her in these matters, though they trusted her judgement, in effect Alidar had grown sullen, she drew him aside as she prepared to leave.
”Look, I know this holding pattern is not your preferred state of affairs. I’m not trying to hurt you, I just...” she trailed off looking into his eyes and then gently touched his cheek. ”It may be some time before I can give you what you ask for. There’s a hurricane around us, and we are at the eye. Our friends may soon lash out in desperation. New acquaintances may seek to destroy us. You must stay here and keep Tri Firinnean safe. You made a pact to the people of this land because you believed it our ideals, not just me.” She sighs, ”but I promise this - it has been months. When I return, I will make myself clear to you, however it may shake out.”
He looked sadly at her, ”my lady - administrator - these people you consort with, they are fools. They lack your vision. That much has become clear. What can you learn from them now that you do not already know?” He asked, genuinely surprised. ”And this Varn, from what you’ve said, he has little in his heart but greed. How do you know he will not trap you there?”
Sophiel laughed, ”little can trap me, or hasn’t that been made clear? I am like the wind, or a memory, and if I am trapped than I did not read the portents correctly and deserve it.” And her eyes grew a little flinty and hard, ”as for my companions... we are as family. I owe them much, though not everything in the world, and even family may test that bond, but for the moment, I pray that you hold your tongue in my presence regarding their wisdom or lack thereof. I am of their company, and if they be fools than I am as a fool as well. Remember this. If the bonds break, I will deem it so, I need no counsel from anyone regarding this, no matter how dear they may have grown. I will not speak of the issue again.” The flint of her eyes had ignited, and Sophie’s infamous anger seemed poised to release again, but she composed herself. ”We small creatures, in our limited time on Golarion, must extend mercy and grace to all who oppose us, until we have no other choice. This is our second duty, after our duty to truth. They deserve kindness and grace, no matter what they’ve done to others.”
Alidar nodded, ”of course. But if I am... and forgive me, but it seems that their houses are barely in order, at least some. And some have build societies which would enslave or genocide of our people. When do we draw the line? When the wolves are barking at the gates?” He almost pleaded with her.
”When it is clear there is no other choice Alidar. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be prepared.” And she whispered at the councilor, slipping him a piece of paper with a cryptic scrawl on it. The man peered down at the sheet, and then back up at Sophiel, his face grim, and he nodded at her. ”I await your return. I hope I may prove myself to you, ad-administrator.” She smiled up at him, then hugged him, as tiny tears sprung to her eyes. She let him go, and then swiftly departed for the wagon after performing one last check. Alidar watched her go, then took the paper she gave him, and opened a lamp, burning the contents in a blaze of violet fire. He returned to the council chamber to gather the others.
The group travels via the established roadways along the southern edge of Brevoy to Nivatka’s Crossing before turning south and following the road to Varnhold. Varnhold is a fledgling colony comprised primarily of single adults evenly distributed between craftsmen and farm laborers, though there are a number of married couples and even a few families with children.
Most of Varnhold’s buildings are constructed of fieldstones up to a height of about 3 feet, with wooden planking and even some frame and stucco above that. The windows bear shutters and are unglazed. Roofs are uniformly shake shingles. A few dwellings, however, are still the sod dugouts constructed in the colony’s earliest days
L1: Hogkeeper’s Farm - This structure, though fairly new, is poorly built. The clapboard walls have large gaps and its roof sags alarmingly. Behind the cottage sprawl a mud-filled enclosure and a covered shed. A number of feral hogs roam around in the pen behind the house.
L2: Farmhouses - Each of these small cottages is fairly well kept and modestly furnished with simple accoutrements.
L3: Tannery - The acrid stench of a tannery wafts faintly from this modest building. An outhouse stands across the yard in front of the building.
L4: Brewery - This large, two-story building partially overhangs the river bank. A wagon sits at the loading dock being unloaded by a small group of men. A sign above the front entrance shows a barrel and a smiling dwarf, that looks very similar to the man directing the laborers. The dark haired dwarf waves pleasantly to you as you pass by.
L5: Sellen Ford - The ground slopes steeply downward to the river bank, where the river runs wide and shallow. The opposite bank rises at a gentler slope into the town proper.
L6: Temporary Market Square - Various small stands have been set up here in preparation of the festival. More are being set up out of the backs of wagons and it seems this is going to be one of the primary centers of the festivities.
L7: Commons - A greensward occupies the center of town. A few trees grow around an unoccupied pillory, and a well has been dug at the southern end. The trees and greenery have all been decorated for the festival.
L8: Livery and Blacksmith - This long, low building partially surrounds a yard encompassed by a split-rail fence. A sign above a wide, barn-like entrance shows harness for a horse and a blacksmith’s anvil. A large number of horses and other livestock mill about the yard.
L9: Tailor - Numerous freshly spun fabric creations hang in flittering in the wind outside of this building. Included in their number are some freshly made banners bearing the markings of House Varn.
L10: Potter - A small yard adjoining the house and surrounded by a low picket fence holds numerous clay vessels and statues, clearly indicating this dwelling belongs to a potter.
L11: Underground House - This house clearly is dug into the hillside, only the front facade can be seen from the outside.
L12: The Waterhorse - A two-story inn stands just off the village commons. A sign above the door depicts a rider clinging to the back of a madly galloping horse with a green mane and a fish’s tail extending from its hindquarters. The inn’s walls are painted a cheerful shade of yellow to complement the red shutters.
L13: Church of Erastil - A small church stands here, its whitewashed walls and stained- glass windows gleaming in the sun. The bow symbol of Erastil shines like a beacon above the doors. Behind it on one side sits a neatly kept parsonage, and on the other a low hill holds the beginnings of a small cemetery.
L14: Weaver - This cottage has cheerful curtains in its windows. Four children, ranging from 15 to 2 years in age, can be seen playing happily in the front yard. Their father sits on the small porch working with reels of thread while the mother sits on a rocking chair, petting a calico cat curled up in her lap.
L15: Grange - This giant barn has both a cargo door on the front and a smaller door on the side where a lean-to abuts the structure. The strong odor of barley and other grains wafts through the seams in the clapboard walls.
L16: Gemcutter - This house is a bit more lavishly decorated than most of the others in town, and a sign on the door of a gleaming diamond reveals the structure to belong to a gemcutter.
L17: Stockade and Blockhouse - Perched atop a low hill, this triangular fortification looms over the town. A palisade of sharpened stakes leaves enough gaps for archers within to fire out upon the surrounding hillsides. The southern corners of the fort both have twin watch platforms, and the northern corner is anchored by a solid-looking blockhouse of sturdy timbers. Several trails of smoke rise up from behind the walls from chimneys and cooking fires.
"I know you are itching to look around." Tasha says to her ruler with a smile, "But we really should introduce ourselves to the master of Varnhold first. Otherwise it would be a sign of disrespect."
Chrysa knows this but it is her diplomats job to make sure she knows it so she nods and asks the pleasant dwarf in front of the brewery. "Excuse me good sir, where might I find your Lord Varn on such a lovely day?"
Vincent, playing the role of ward to the somewhat taciturn Lord Lebeyda, smiles and waves at the children across the street but doesn't 'wander off' just yet.
With Annalla carrying Tremaine and Isabella with Tristan and the maids trailing along behind with only the required gear (the rest being sent off to their rooms). The ladies join Orri and Vincent.
"Hello, Master Maridos," the android says as she bounces her son against her shoulder. "And greetings to you as well, Lord Lebeda. Shall we pay our respects to our host?"
Vincent turns around with a bright smile. "Sure!" He says with a big smile, flashing a wink as his back is turned to the weaver family.
Chrysa heard a commotion behind her. The horned copper haired woman looks back and all thoughts of respecting the lord of the land before doing anything else is abandoned in the wake of BABIES!
The woman how has stabbed, gutted, decapitated without no remorse and little emotion is suddenly standing before Annalla and Bella, barely able to keep from bouncing on her heels in excitement. "Can... I.. hold one?"
Annalla smiles at Chrysa excitement. She gives Tremaine a quick kiss on his forehead and then gently hands him over to her friend. She can't help but subtly correct how the woman holds the infant as she brushes his hair back down.
"Chrysa Surtova, meet Tremaine Lebeda," she says, holding to forms. "Tremaine, this is our friend Chrysa."
She stands closer that what would normally be warranted, ready to take the baby back at the first sign of distress.
The dwarf smiles broadly and replies. ”The Baron should be up in the fort on top of the hill. Unless he’s already started the festivities himself over at The Waterhorse,” he concludes with a chuckle that is shared by the other men gathered around moving barrels.
Those of you with the babies see they have two boys. One is significantly larger and stronger looking, with deep red hair, whom they have named Tristan. The other, Tremaine, is a good deal smaller and more frail in appearance.
She bids the dwarf a thank you before she notices the babies...
Chrysa falls in love instantly with the tiny little frail baby in her arms. She has never held one of these things for more that a second before so doesn't take offence at the corrections at all in how she is holding him. "Hi" she breathes in wide eyed wonder "I'm your godmother, they just haven't told you that yet, give them time they are slow sometimes, I will teach you all about the wonders and horrors about this world and how to make both work for you, and I swear by all I hold dear I will murder this world to keep you safe." her oath rings true.
Annalla watches Chrysa's interaction with her son closely, absorbing every nuance. She smiles as the dark-haired boy looks up at the rogue with eyes filled with curiosity. New faces are a rare commodity in their home and he's taking in the one above him with wide eyes. He smiles and his face shifts to a reddish-pink.
"I know what that means," Annalla says as she reaches out to take the grinning infant. A wet, squelching sound follows as she passes the baby to the older maid. Once she's passed Tramaine off to be changed, she takes possession of the red-headed baby to introduce him to the rogue as well.
"And this is Tristan," she says, placing the larger baby in Chrysa's arms. "Tristan, Chrysa."
She glances at her wife before looking back at the fey. "Chrysa, we would be honored if you would consider being their godmother."
Chrysa makes a sound. Something tight and high pitched, unlike anything you've ever heard her make. Nothing you could imagine the former bandit could make. But she makes it none the less. She nods her head in acceptance, eyes a little misty, as she makes the same oath to Tristan (minus the part where they have not asked her to be the godmother yet).
"Oh, you are a tad heavier, aren't you?" she teases the plump baby in her arms "remember to share SOME of the milk with your brother."
Looking up at Anna and Bella "Do you have a preference? I mean of Gods. Pharasma and... well Pharasma, would be the most appropriate of the ones I am most familiar with, but will study up whichever you two are most partial to." Chrysa doesn't really have a complete notion of what godmothers are meant to do, other than be there for them always.
Sophiel trundled into town with the two combat bison merrily pulling the party's wagon, the bison having finally received names. She had been attempting to train the two to respond to names, but being pack animals, it wasn't always easy. "Dictum, slow... Mayhem, straight..." The pair slowed and walked a little slower, but to an untrained eye, it was hard to see which she was referring to.
She gazed at the settlement - impressed by the number of stout buildings, and the clever foundations that were used. She frowned slightly as her eyes flitted about, peering for larger and more substantial buildings, but the frown quickly disappeared and her expression returned to a genial smile, one which remained with few exceptions as she traveled. She wore the badge of Gliocas, and with her administratorship on the cusp of fame, she hoped that this would smooth over the diplomatic tension that might come from her carrying what ... some... people might think of as monsters. She was dressed in a smart green and purple suit jacket, befitting a military commander or the uniform of a civil servant, though somehow the lines of the jacket seemed to accentuate her curves, modest but encouraging those with more creative imaginations a fantasy in their own right. Her legs wore a pair of high-quality canvas pants, obviously made by the fine tailors of Shadowfall. Her hair was held up, as befitted a traveler, with lavender woven into her hair as usual.
She drove the wagon towards the market square, with the hope of getting direction to the meeting itself. When she approached the square, she encountered the leaders of the other small municipalities. Spotting Chrysa with people from her barony as well as Isabella and Analla, she approached slowly, watching them, and watching the interaction between the couple, their children, and Chrysa. She watched everything closely, and after a moment, drew close enough to call out a greeting through the bustling market, as she tried to avoid running over any stray children or cats that are common in market squaares.
"Good day all, I see you've received the same missive. I brought King Sootscale as well." She gestures toward the Kobold, smiling. Her eyes alight on the children, and she hops off of the wagon, after maneuvering their wagon to be out of the way, and short words to Dictum and Mayhem that obviously mean "stay", and marches in her high-topped, sturdy-looking but shapely boots over to the cacophony. She is still smiling, and her eyes are kind when she sees the children, though she did not extend a hand to hold them. "Isabella, I am happy to see you and the children are safe." She pauses, "Annalla, you seem to be taking the situation well, considering everything." She nods at the android, not unkindly.
Sophiel has a hidden emotion when seeing Isabella and Annalla. It's not clear what it is.
Sophiel is trying to be polite, but her hidden emotion seems to be disgust, not at the children, it seems, which seems odd.
"Chrysa, it's only been a few weeks, but it's good to see you too." When Chrysa's arms are free, she'll move to hug her friend. "I hope you are all well; I intend to head to the fort in a moment, but I thought that I should pay my respects." She glanced at each party's retinue, and says, "you certainly brought a lot of people between the three of you; I hope Varn doesn't think less of me - I am alone."
She spots the younger Maridos nearby, with Orri, and she extends her hand to him, as well as embracing Orri when he is available. "Lord Maridos, I am glad that you came with Orri, I apologize. I sent a missive to invite you to meet me at the ford to accompany me here, not certain if you'd been invited. My messenger must have gotten lost, though she told me she delivered the note to one of your people, a lizardfolk, with instructions to give you the missive." She shakes her head "No matter, I was at least able to bring Sootscale."
She pauses, "Annalla, you seem to be taking the situation well, considering everything." She nods at the android, not unkindly.
Annalla tips her head at the comment. She looks at her wife and then at her sons before turning back to Sophiel with confusion on her face. "I don't understand. What about the situation should I not take well? I have a beautiful wife and two precious sons. Is there something that you know that I do not?"
Her eyes narrows slightly and there's a glimmer of blue along her arms. "Or are you referring to the fringe anti-sylvan element that we've been dealing with at home? If so, then know that they will be dealt with. I will find who is responsible and they will receive their due reward. Every. Last. One."
Chrysa is distracted by the utter delight cooing in her arms. She gives Sophie a hug, warm and loving, since she is quite happy at the moment... which is a rarity.
She does look up at the mention of anti-sylvan elements, squashing something quickly.
Interest, not guilt, if you were wondering and thinking bad things about dear Chrysa. :)
Sophiel nods at Annalla, "that, yes. I had heard rumors. I did not wish to pry. I know as well as anyone the stresses of managing so much at once. Though I'm glad you brought along some help, at least. There's no shame in relying on people who care about you," she gestures towards the maids. "I worked as a nanny for some time, so I understand their jobs as well. For that, I hope they are well compensated." She chuckles a little.
"It's useful to understand as much as you can about the people who rely upon you for their sustenance, and lives. And who you rely upon to help you. Luckily I've had many jobs over the years..." She looks a bit wistful.
She says to Annalla, as kindly as she may, "anyway, if you ever need help, our people have learned to live and work in harmony." She nods slightly, "I can give you advice, which is free, or loans, should we find some favorable terms. We could spare resources, should my people get a favorable return on their investment."
She thinks, and adds "we are almost finished building our university - that was quite an investment, but we have managed to develop a sustainable resource stream throughout the country." She laughs, "though the most modern economists have different ideas. I intend to switch to representative government as soon as is possible, and that itself is unsustainable in an extraction-based economy." She seems to be talking to herself at this point, but she catches herself, "or perhaps you and Orri should join your lands. I've helped him as much as I can - but can only do so much from afar."
Vincent bows politely, "I've been away." He says with a wide smile. "Maybe the letter just got misplaced."
The vampires finely tuned sense pick up almost all the undercurrents of the human's various interactions and he arches a single eyebrow before the 'childish' mask falls again and he starts looking around like the slightly wide-eyed teenager he is pretending to be.
She nods at Vincent in response, ”think nothing of it, I’m glad you were able to enlist aid from Orri. You must have been aiding Orri with his rebuilding efforts, of course, which is why you came with him.” She fixes Maridos with an earnest look, and it’s clear she isn’t being duplicitous. ”I did what I could, with healing and the like. It’s only the honorable thing to do.”
There is the unmistakable sound of chewing as King Sootscale emerges from the back of Sophiel's wagon, his mouth covered in Sophiel's delectable fangberry preserve, his hand shading his eyes. "Too bright, too bright!" he insists as the sun reflects off the snowy mountains.
It is just the two of them, him and the Fey Queen. There was no good excuse for bringing more kobolds, and in any event, he did not trust this place. Sootscale gave clear orders that if he was killed or imprisoned in this foreign land, Mikmek would be his successor to rule the kingdom.
Wiping his mouth with his scaly arm, King Sootscale--bright plumage worn as a crown--forces himself to go out in the daytime sun as he wills himself over to Isabella and Annalla, "Ah! Two hatchlings. Good. Good! Ipmeek knew you strong woman, Isabella. Have more babies at one time like kobold." He goes up to them and starts poking at Tristan with a scaly finger, as if to test his response. Sootscale's handling is not the most pleasant, and Tristan starts to cry.
"No poking the baby, King Sootscale" Chrysa says softly, cooed the child, but she gives up the baby as soon as Anna comes to get him. Her hovering in worry didn't go unnoticed.
Brushing out the wrinkles in her dark doublet and red vest, she then suggests "Now that we are all together, shall we go meet Baron Varn?" the horned woman nods to her bard, who smiles, bows and gathers the guards Chrysa rode with to go to the tavern.
The well dressed pretty gnome who has been watching all of you intently stays by her Baroness's side.
Isabella is proud of her sons and admires the response of the group as they give them praise. As expected, Chrysa seems most taken with them, but that is what she had hoped to see.
When the kobold mentions more babies at one time, Isabella waves her hands "No-no, two at once was more than enough. I'm quite thankful there were no more of them, I'm not sure I could have taken it!"
Isabella stretches, happy to be out of the wagon and happy to see her friends again. "It's quite nice to see you all again."
Turning to Chrysa, she nods "I suppose we should, no? But first", she asks, turning to the gnome, "Who is this?"
"Tasha Nebetta Allena Seabreeze, your grace." the gnome's bright smile descends into a perfect curtsey of crinoline and silk. "Chief.. and only... diplomat of the kingdom of Shadowfall."
.
Making your way a through town, you are greeted with the sights of a quaint, happy town. Children playing in yards and streets, families happily talking with one another as they prepare decorations in the streets and public places, fathers, brothers, sons, daughters, wives and mothers all sharing drinks as the festival begins to kick off in earnest.
Eventually you begin to pass by the Waterhorse, seemingly the only inn and tavern in town. From inside you can hear quite the crowd obviously already taking part in the inebriations. Electing to secure your own lodging for your stay before all the rooms are claimed, you make your way inside to the sight of a large gathering of folks at the bar and several tables, drinking, eating, and telling tales with one another. In a corner near the hearth, the old wizard that accompanied the Varnling Host sits with a simple chalice of wine, seeming more interested in the warmth than the drink. A man sits opposite him by the hearth, playing a beautiful viola with expert skill.
A moment after you have entered, a voice rises up from the crowd. precedes the sight of Maegar Varn pushing out of the crowd around him, and his friends and staff all let out a large cheer and raise their glasses to you in your honor as he approaches, arms outstretched as he obviously intends to offer you an embrace in greeting. ”Welcome! Welcome to Varnhold!” he gestures to the room around him as if the whole of the town was able to be seen from within. ”Come! Come! Join us!” he says before turning to the hostess and calling out ”Miriam! See that our honored guests are properly accommodated!”
Vincent shrinks back behind Orri, doing a very good impression of an intimidated child, not too hard with the sheer size and volume of the Baron.
Chrysa is not a hugger of random met once people, she's barely a hugger of those she does know and love. But diplomacy...
She excepts the hug, getting squished, but offers a polite smile after. ,"It is good to see you again, and I am quite impressed on how your city is shaping up."
Sophiel watched as Sootscale poked the baby, and was obviously pleased that it didn't end with anyone coming to blows. She greeted Chrysa's diplomat, kindly, though she raised her eyebrows in Chrysa's direction.
Before too long, she excused herself amid the greetings and made her way towards the fort, leading the wagon up the gate, and asking the guard where the Dictum and Mayhem might be stabled. She led them there, and emerged from the stables with the same outfit, though perhaps with a bit more polish. She took a deep breath and waited at the entrance for the others. When their retinue eventually arrived, she nodded and began approaching the doors. At this point, she stood to the side, and nodded at the guard, gesturing for the others to enter. When the full complement of Barons and Baronesses had entered, she followed behind, hands folded behind her back, which stood straight, and her slight form seemed slightly taller than usual. Anyone standing near her for very long could perceive the scent of lavender and sage, a pleasing scent, which seemed to put the smeller at ease.
She stood to the side and waited for the others to introduce themselves, watching their interaction with Varn carefully.
Earlier: Chrysa catches the raising of eyebrows, causing her own eyes to narrow a bit at the implication, shaking her head in disagreement of categorization.
Now: "May I introduce Tasha, who will be spending time to the neighboring kingdoms, such as yours, to pave the roads to mutual benefit." she looks down to the perfectly poised gnome "Is that how you put it?"
Chestnut hair in lush rings, smiles back and gives a proper curtsy again "Perfectly suitable, Baroness. A pleasure, Baron Varn. Shall Shadowfall and Varnhold by friends throughout the ages."
Once again Vincent's preternaturally sharp senses catch emotion flickering across Chrysa's face.
Once again he says nothing about it.
[ooc]In situations like this Vincent will always take 10 so the effective DC to beat him is 33.[/dice]
"That's quite a name, Tasha." Isabella responds to Tasha, bowing her head in acknowledgement. "Pleasure."
Isabella also greets Vincent, Orri and Sophie, thought she is not in a hugging mood either. She ensures both children have been passed on to their temporary care before escorting Annalla arm and arm to green Varn. "Greetings. Thank you for the generous and thoughtful welcoming."
Baron Varn waves off the formalities of introduction, clearly preferring a more personable atmosphere. ”Please, please, just call me Maegar. Come! Get yourselves settled in and then join me for a bit of what I’ve taken to calling ‘Early Merrymead,’” he says, eliciting a round of hearty laughter from his friends who were all also quite intoxicated already.
From his seat by the fire, the mage Cephal Lorentus raises his wine glass in your direction with a sincere smile, though makes no effort to stand.
Sootscale stops poking the baby once Chrysa intervenes, apparently satisfied. "Healthy boy!" he insists. "Squishier than kobold baby, though. Not enough scales."
He follows along as the group moves on to find lodging--and apparently Maegar Varn. As Maegar hugs Chrysa, he leans in toward Sophiel, still playing the role of her "guest." "Hm, does Varn know Chrysa? Maybe he likes her, yes? Look like good choice for mate."
Chrysa gives Tasha leave to mingle, then goes to pay her respect to the wizard. "A pleasure again, Cephal. I am glad your friend got his wish, to make a name for himself for something other than a mercenary captain. His people do seem to love him." if there is a seat available, she rests in it, since she is not used to the width of a horse.
"Did you have much trouble with the centaurs?"
Sophiel watches the scene carefully, and replies to Sootscale, shaking her head, "no, that's just his personality. I expect he would hug most of his visitors, if given a chance." To the last statement, Sophie chuckles, "I doubt Chrysa would be up for that; but I've been wrong about people before." She continues to wait until the others have introduced themselves, though she adds "I'm waiting for the others to finish, I can introduce you then, if you'd like. It might be good to get on his good side, for the sake of your clan."
Cephal doesn’t rise to greet Chrysa. Not from a lack of desire, but likely due to the negative effects of age. ”Lady Chrysa. Indeed, a pleasure,” he says with a gesture to the seat opposite himself. ”Yes, he is a fair and surprisingly capable Baron. I cannot deny that I had my doubts, but he is earning his title and holdings.”
At mention of the centaur, Cephal grows solemn. ”The Nomen centaur are a perpetual problem. They do not take kindly to our presence here, and have lashed out at the people of Varnhold on numerous occasions. Efforts of diplomacy have not been met with great success either.”
”Dumbass monstrosities, is all they are, would be why Old Man!” Maegar calls out from his table. ”Ignorant primitives who think the whole world is theirs just because they’ve ran across the region a dozen years ago,” he waves his hand around him and says ”If they had their way, all of us would be dead or forced to live in tents on the move! But, we showed them, right boys?” he asks boisterously to a chorus of cheers from his men. ”Sent them packing every time they’ve reared their hindquarters our way!”
Chrysa nods to the sentiment "My own encounters with them, growing up around her as I did, were much the same. Always territorial, more willing to throw a spear at you than to chat. That and marking their territory in horrible ways..." she scrunched her nose. In truth her encounters were few and far between since banditry required wanting something from the effort and the centaurs had little. "Our own troubles were trolls, which we solved by killing their king." it is unclear if she is offering a suggestion or just stating a fact. After that she changes the subject, "Not all the denizens of these lands are primitives who need to be put down. If you've not had the pleasure yet, please greet our friend and neighbor, King Sootscale." she gestures and smiles to her friend hovering near Sophie. "Since misunderstandings can be known to happen, especially between different races, we felt it would be wise to make sure everyone is aware that his kingdom and ours are strong allies." her tone is a mix between respectful of those around her and steel to let them know this is not negotiable.
King Sootscale nods at Sophiel's offer, but Chrysa beats her to the punch.
The kobold puffs out his chest and wings as much as possible as he approaches Maegar's table. He grabs a mug of mead from Orri while the charmer is distracted chatting up a lady. "Is honor to meet you, Baron Varn. You build great kingdom here, many fine buildings, even underground house!" His admiration of their engineering is genuine. "Kobold kingdom growing, know much about mining. Just as Varnhold know much about beer!"
He raises a mug in toast. "To Varnhold!" and downs the mug.
"Wow! Oh! Very strong. Hm . . ." He feels his stomach rumbling with discomfort. "Good beer, fine beer," he insists through gritted teeth.
Anna nods her head politely at their host's introduction. When he envelopes her in a boisterous hug, her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, uh, and we're hugging," she says with a nervous laugh.
Once the initial pleasantries have been seen to, she takes a seat off to the side to watch and try to learn the dynamics of the newly met players. She'd been spending a large amount of time reading about human and demi-human behavior, but nothing compares to seeing the interactions in person.
She arranges for mugs to be delivered to their table and steels herself to the look of disappointment from Isabella when the warrior-woman takes her first sip and realizes that hers has been strongly watered down.
"You remember what I told you I read in that book?" Annalla says with an understanding look. Beer isn't good for babies. And some of what you eat and drink gets passed through to the milk you produce. If I could share the duty with you, you know that I would. Unfortunately, the body that I currently possess has no means of milk production." A look of longing crosses the android's face before being replaced with her neutral smile. "So enjoy what drink that you may partake in and entertain yourself with conversations about tribal centaurs," she says, patting the woman's thigh.
Sophiel watched the various exchanges, and finally approaches the leader of the mercenary band that carved out a modicum of civilization from the wilds. As the man moves to embrace her, she returns the favor, hugging the strapping fellow as tightly as her slight frame can afford. She releases the fellow and looks up into the his eyes, hands on her hips, ”Varn! It’s been too long. We haven’t seen you since that first meeting. Tell me, tell me, what in the world have you been up to since then?” She grins at him cheekily, ”my people say the holdings of Varnland are just -“ She gestures broadly, shaking her head as if in disbelief, ”- huge!” and she winks, grinning wider at the man. ”Centaurs or otherwise, this land is harsh. You’ve carved out a commendable home for all these people. Varnhold is a testament to this, from what I’ve seen.”
She appraises the hall admirably, and she grows a bit more serious ”Most of us are struggling in some way or other, maybe we can pick your brain a bit?” She grabs him by the shoulder , the question sincere, guileless, and friendly.
Chrysa's eyes lit up in their usual amused admiration at Sophie's 'honesty'. Turning back to the wizard, she asks quietly "Recently there was a horrendous attack on Orri's lands. Someone charmed a gigantic owlbear, the biggest I've ever seen, sending it barrelling through buildings. Since it just to the southwest of here, I was wondering if there are any reports of the centaurs using animals like that in their attacks." she doubts it but asking hurts nothing.
Maegar does not object to Sophiel’s casual touch. He himself seems quite the extrovert anyway. He and his men, however, do give Chief Sootscale a bit of an untrusting look, but when a toast is made, they silently take part. When Sootscale begins coughing on the beverage, several of them burst out into laughter, Maegar included.
As he recovers, he turns back to Sophiel and answers ”Yes, yes, we will get to telling our grand tales eventually. For now, get yourselves settled in. Miriam! See my honored guests to their rooms! I will handle their room and board for their stay!”
Cephal is intrigued by the information Chrysa relays to him, but shakes his head as he comments before she departs for her quarters ”I have never heard of them taming beasts so large. That is concerning...”
The innkeeper leads you upstairs, and holds out five keys. ”Rooms one through five. Divvy ‘em up as you please, My Lords and Ladies. Room six is already occupied.”
___________
A large feast around several long tables is prepared, enough so that the whole town can attend and sit and eat with one another. While there is in fact a table of honor for the town’s leaders and their honored guests, it would seem that the local Baron has not let his newfound title go to his head. He spends much of the evening mingling with his people, sharing tales and laughing with them amicably as if they were all close friends.
Indeed, the people of Varnhold seem quite jovial, happy, and particularly festive this Merrymead.
The feast prepared consists of three large boars that have been roasted beautifully. The meat literally falls off the bone and is quite juicy and tasteful. Alongside it are various vegetables that have been preserved through the winter and breads baked fresh and prepared by the various farmers of the town. Every single beverage available at the table is alcoholic in nature. A few bottles of wine can be seen here and there, but by and large the drink of choice is Cheerful Delver Stout, an earthy, dark beer that seems to be Varnhold’s own brand and an obvious favorite of the locals.
Eventually, Maegar stands, albeit wobbly at this point, and calls out ”Welcome, my guests and friends! I am truly happy to have you all here tonight!” he holds up his mug, immediately joined by the rest of his people, and calls out a toast ”May Varnhold and her neighbors continue to prosper for as long as the Gods see them fit to do so! And may we all be Merry! Now, let’s drink up all the Cheerful Delver that is left in this town!” before throwing back his glass, drinking the whole mug down in one go, as do many of the people.
Vincent takes a few swigs of the ale he is given, since even the children seem to be getting alcohol this evening and has to fight hard to avoid vomiting - the drink tastes disgusting. 'Why do humans like this so much?' He wonders.
Seeking a distraction, or at least someone who isn't laughing at his disgusted reaction, Vincent's eyes alight on the mage, Cephal Lorentus.
"Excuse me, Mr Lorentus? You're a wizard aren't you?" He asks, turning on the charm. "My uncle Orri told me about you. It must be really exciting to be a wizard, making fire and turning people into toads! Can I see your spellbook? I want to be a wizard one day so I'll show you mine?"
Chrysa listens to the mage's response. Previous knowledge, smugness, tinge of guilt; Anything other than the simple distant surprise, mild interest, she'd expect from a tragedy that is far enough away you can ignore softly.