Muricar rises from his seat to reply.
"Clenched in the teeth of the Hungry Mountains, Amaans careens from the heights of Ulcazar to the hill country of the Ghorcha Passage. A land of seclusion, storms, dense mist, and deadly beauty, Amaans refuses to yield easily to either plow or blade," Muricar recounts with a flourish.
His friend Hearthmount looks on with a warm smile, and Straelock seems impressed by his description. Faravan rolls her eyes.
"Put more simply," the rakish diplomat continues, stepping back from dramatics, "The County of Amaans is due east of Canterwall, across the rolling moors, tangled forest, and swampy lowlands that makes up the eastern half of your domain, m'lady.
"Count Galdana is a fair and even-tempered ruler, but he is more renowned for his recreational pursuits. He is a sportsman of great fame, known for his preference of hunting fierce game, including wolves, boars, and, yes, the occasional brigand.
"As for Marian Leigh," he adds with a chuckle, "I have often dreamed of visiting that town of gardens and greenhouses, filled with such peerless flowers and fruit. I have considered sending a letter to Lady Urora Demerrval, around whose estate the town is centered."
The capital and largest settlement in Amaans is the holy city of Kavapesta. Beyond that, most of the county's sparse population is scattered in tiny hamlets that dot the vales and highlands of the mountainous land.
Straelock's fears of rising taxes earns a smile from the magister; he understood quite well that to tax too heavily would bleed their land dry. Nikolai would clear his throat soon after, shaking his head for a moment before he spoke back up.
"Not at all councilor. It is merely collecting what should already be arriving to Ravengro. These taxes are owed to the Countess. No place will be taxed beyond their limit; we must all grow hand in hand if we are to make these moors prosperous." Hearthmount's eagerness to secure the boundaries of the county were admirable but it was obvious that the man's glorious days were behind him. Bashuk handled the situation with diplomacy and ease, earning a respectful smile from the scholar. She was doing better than she imagined she would. It was then that the Countess began to give her speech, informing them all of the gains that had been made and the effort put forth by her and her retinue. Nikolai couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at his assistance in aiding the blossoming county with its lofty goals and desires. An outsider's perspective was a grand shift, one that would certainly change the county and perhaps the country on a whole. There was an intrigue at watching the proceedings before him; those who were comfortable in their position and those who were not. The natural leaders and those that would follow along. Already, Nikolai was categorizing and putting each little bit of each person into their own book in his mind. How full the pages would become, he could not say.
"Any potential suitors would need to present themselves to you, of course. Any marriage, should the occasion arrive, would need to be matrilineal in order to ensure the succession of your own house. House Talanova may, in the centuries to come, revolutionize this country. We cannot let it simply be absorbed into any existing house." Nikolai knew the statistics and general knowledge of the places that they were speaking up but Muricar's description was a welcome bit of prose. The fact that Valda consistently called him out on his rakish behavior brought a little snort to his lips before he cleared his throat.
"Shall we ready the horses and prepare to make our departure for Clover's Crossing? It is the largest town that the good...salesman...said had disappeared. It is likely the one with the most evidence left behind it as well."
Please, all of you... We all have our foibles. None of us are beyond reproach if looked at from this or that perspective, through one or another lens.
I would appreciate a heightened gentility, she looks towards Muricar.
And a softer tone, she turns to Valda.
We are each a part of what will make Canterwall great, each called to serve. We help each the other to becomes our best selves. I do not know what friendships will develop, but I hopw that some do.
Diminishing some or even one, diminishes us all.
Valeska pauses, as if to further compose herself.
We stay one more night, we leave at dawn. I have a few businesses to visit, including two inns, if anyone would like to join for a meal.
Are there any new items or lingering items that need to be discussed before we adjourn?
The councilors have no additional pieces of new business to share. However, Hearthmount does inquire whether you will be bringing Evets along as a guide, or if you intend to leave the "doctor" behind in Ravengro. The dubious way the retired cavalryman speaks of Evets makes it clear that he would much rather not have snake oil salesman around town.
Meanwhile, Straelock offers to rustle up some supplies for the party's tour of the eastern county.
Thank you, Mirta. You are a dear... and the supplies will be paid for of course.
As to Evets, we shall ask him and make some proposal of payment, should his information prove fruitful or at least, true.
Valeska invites Valda, Nikolai and Bashuk to a meal once more by way of hospitality, before saying her good-byes and leaving to ready for the evening.
Her assumption is those who have been with her longer understand it's an open invite and probably do not need the nudge.
Outside, she takes Lorena aside. Didn't mean to put you on the spot, my friend. Folks seemed to pitch in. Thank you for keeping things together here during our outings.
Nikolai appreciates the offer but takes his meal to go after exchanging pleasantries. The amount of people her had left him a little uncomfortable and there was research to be done about this Clover's Crossing. For the rest of the day, the scholar secludes himself with whatever books, scrolls, and tales he can get his ink-stained fingers upon.
Nikolai, you shall me missed at both The Laughing Demon and The Outward Inn... shall we have food and libation sent to you?
Eventually, Valeska and Sasha will make their way to The Laughing Demon with whomever has decided to join them.
Along the way, she will walk slowly, taking in the town and the restoration efforts. Her eyes glance to the jail, where the Orc prisoner remains.
Sister Valda, Bashuk... do you mind joining me for a visit? We have an unprecedented guest. Perhaps you can reason with them?
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Doctor Evets mentioned that, before being chased off by whatever howling creatures he heard in the distance, he found that Clover's Crossing had been destroyed by a gaping sinkhole that seemed to have swallowed most of the settlement. Although the village was located along the Vistear River, the local landscape has good drainage, unlike the marshes several miles downriver. This makes it highly unlikely that this was a natural sinkhole caused by erosion or water infiltration.
There are conflicting accounts of whether it was the army of Prince Ardurras II or that of Prince Adamondais who mustered at Clover's Crossing and sought blessings at the Pharasmin church before venturing forth on their doomed attacks against the Whispering Tyrant. The historical records are confusing because the two ill-fated campaigns occurred within a year of each other.
Further muddling the facts are the accounts that both princes carried a relic weapon that ended up lost to the ages when their wielders fell in battle - the sword Corpselight, carried by the elder Prince Ardurras, and the holy mace Raven's Head, carried by his brother Prince Adamondais.
Thank you for joining me. Our guest... prisoner would be a more literal or perhaps accurate term, is a shaman of the Open Barrow tribe captured and to the villager's credit not killed during the festival raid.
I've been trying to get through to him, but after coming to understand the tribe is ruled by necromancers of sorts, I'm not certain alliance is possible. Valeska seems disappointed having come to this conclusion.
I suppose our next best option is to... impress upon him how bad an idea it is to EVER attack Ravengro, Canterwall or any of our interests or allies.
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"I--Countess I will aid you however I can, but a shaman of the Open Barrow...my people have had little contact with that tribe. Their reputation is known to us, and it is a dark one. If he truly is a shaman of theirs, the rites he has likely participated in..." Bashuk's expression darkens as she considers the implications. "Your desire to see the good in this one does you credit. The Everlight looks with favor on your hope for redemption--but not all will chose to forsake the darkness. When you say you wish to 'impress upon him' an idea, what do you have in mind?"
Nikolai gathers all he can from his research and transcribes it into scrolls, using shorthand and personal symbols to quickly convey large ideas in short and concise lettering. After cleaning his weapons and armor and preparing his alchemical extracts for the day, he prepares to rest for tomorrow's journey.
Nothing untoward, Bashuk... he will be given food, water and his gear.
He's met the General, but needs to know there are more in our ranks... yourself, Sister Valda and the allies we gather.
Also, that an attack on our allies is an attack on us that will be responded to accordingly. Valeska seems nonchalant regarding the matter.
You find the captive Open Barrow shaman in the Ravengro Jail, much as you left him before you last set out. Deputy Trestleblade stands watch, having just delivered a simple meal to the cagey prisoner. Though his limbs remain quite gangling, he has not lost much weight if at all. It seems that a steady, reliable diet of prison fare is little different from what his tribe could provide.
Inside the jail, once Bashuk steps into his line of vision, the shaman grimaces with disgust.
"I feel the same," Bashuk retorts when she sees the shaman's expression. "Count yourself lucky I wasn't here when your butchers tried their raid. What were you hoping to accomplish?"
The shaman speaks in Orcish.
"We were trying to survive," the shaman replies coldly to Bashuk. "If you were truly a child of our land, you would understand that.
"Our land cultivates strength by showing no mercy. Our tribe continues to grow strong. Yours is dying out under the rule of that cross-soul."
Bashuk shakes her head with a derisive snort. "Dying out? Tell yourself whatever you must. Your raiders were crushed, while my tribe has gained an ally and stronghold. There's no conflict between mercy and strength--you'd do well to learn that lesson."
Hooking a chair with her foot and dragging it closer, Bashuk sits with her chin in her palm, studying the shaman.
<"Hah! You think mercy will save you?"> he scoffs.
The opportunity to taunt Bashuk enlivens the imprisoned shaman, while also serving to loosen his tongue.
<"You don't even know what's coming. We know what's coming. That's why we attacked. Food? Money? Bah! Unimportant. We attacked this weak town for the one thing that will matter: bodies.">
Bashuk yawns, making a show of being unimpressed. <"Bodies, sure. They tell you me your warriors died quickly and poorly--I suppose their bodies will feed the crops that strengthen this town. Just another failure by the Open Barrow. I pity you, shaman. All that's coming is your tribe's irrelevance.">
Set aside their methods and our abhorrence of them... What is coming?
What is it that they fear so much, that they must amass an army?
Effectively, they are... recruiting.
Valda's divine senses assess the shaman and find him thoroughly evil.
If an execution is ordered, the shaman briefly and barely perceptibly recoils at the pronouncement (if translated for him), but he quickly puts on a stoic face and acts as though he embraces such a fate.
Before being taken away for final punishment, he offers one last set of words.
Valeska speaks in a combination of Orc and Common. You will be welcomed just as you were, based upon your intent.
Tell your people, we know who they are now... what they are. It would be in their best interest to leave Ravengro and Canterwall in peace.
Valeska looks Valda, eye to eye. Yes.
It's... complicated. Execution is not something I wish for Ravengro or Canterwall to become synonymous with.
We know more about them, now... we will be better prepared. And, they will be less likely to attack.
Besides, we cannot send a messenger and expect them to return. He will carry the message.
If we hear about them planning an assault, we can always launch a pre-emptive strike.
Bashuk sighs, leaning back in her chain as she continues to study the shaman. "I agree with Grandmother Crow's knight, Countess. Maybe he is just acting defiant, but he seems unrepentant to me. Returning him to his tribe is just giving them another weapon to hurt us with. Leave him here then, it is not a bad thing for a ruler to be reluctant to kill."
Leaving the shaman inprisoned, Valeska leads the others away.
I believe Pharasma is over her initial shock at the practices, wouldn't you say? And, as to repentance, I never considered he had an inkling of the state.
After a thoughtful pause.
How would you wish to be treated if you were captured, if the roles were reversed? And, I'm not asking what they would do...
How would you wish your sisters and brthers in arms be treated if they were captured?
And if they merely wanted to breed or enslave? There are a multitude shades of gray. Once you sanction cold blooded killing, execution... how does one draw the line?
I'm not naive, just wary of a slippery slope. I maintain that we must act in a manner that we would universally prescribe. In a manner we wish all peoples to act.
Outside, Yes, let's catch up with the others.
I wonder if perhaps putting him to work, repairing what they damaged is a good option. I doubt he will ever be remorseful, but he can be useful.
After having collected his thoughts on the matter, he finally speaks up.
For what it is worth, Countess Talanova, are we to be seen as a people that enslave our enemies for our own gain? What difference is there in forced labor of the defeated and slavery? I as well would favor the side of execution. That, or free him so that he may be dealt with on the battlefield. If we capture a hundred orcs or a thousand, are we too keep them under lock and key? Feed them? Trust them as laborers? No, I do not believe that the best course of action. Yet if we release them, it is likely they will cause suffering to the populace... I do not think any situation can be treated the same. And while I believe laws have their place, having too many can cause more harm than good, especially if the laws attempt to plan for every situation one may think up. Though offering each prisoner individually a choice, work for a time, then be released, or death, may work. Though may still have consequences later if they return to raid. He pauses momentarily before continuing.
I say, If you are so against his death, release the shaman at the edge of the Hold. Have him carry a message, a warning. Should we have need to meet their tribe on the field of battle a second time, no quarter will be given. Be beloved by your people and allies, and feared by your enemies yet treat both fairly and honestly. Despite our personal morals and beliefs, we have a duty to the people, to put their well being first.
He gives a small nod of respect as he ends.
Doctor Evets hitches his swaybacked mare to his colorful wagon and steers out to meet the party once your preparations have been made for the excursion. The colors of his motley clothes seem brighter, having been washed overnight, scrubbing the dust of the road from their seams and stitches.
"With any other companions, I'd expect this to be a one-way trip," the huckster says. "I think the only thing keeping this from being an ill-starred venture is the competence of your lord and ladyships.
"Now then, we've got about 30 miles of moor and scrubland ahead of us before we reach Clover's Crossing. If anyone needs to relieve themselves, I'd recommend doing it now. I've learned the hard way that once you're out on the rolling wide open, you're least likely to find a stand of trees for privacy when you most need it," Doctor Evets says with a laugh.
It's always a one-way Doctor Evets, we always have to earn our way back.
But, you are right in that our particular group does instill a confidence. Your compliment is appreciated.
Sasha moves around the line, as a herding dog might. Periodically, coming to walk alongside Valeska.
A cynical person might presume you are leading us into a trap to curry favor with this or that patron. She says this raising her voice a little, just enough to be clear and in a steady tone, as if stating something obvious.
She lets the words hang there.
"You give me too much credit," Evets laughs. "I am not nearly brave enough to lead anyone into a trap. If I were some manner of villain, I would merely send you into the trap.
"Not that I'm any manner of villain, mind you," he hastily adds, suddenly conscious of how accidentally suspicious he was being.
Meanwhile, Valda notices a dearth of animal tracks as you progress further from Ravengro.
She and Valeska suspect this to be evidence that the region been overhunted.
Well, how would you know if we foiled your plans if you merely sent us? I hope you can handle yourself well enough, at least in keeping yourself alive. Though I have faith in your abilities in that regard.
Kain says, gauging the man one final time on his words.
"How many people live in this area? If it's not farmersteaders it may be beasts of some kind." Bashuk looks up from where she has been riding quietly to scan the surroundings. "It's always something, isn't it."
I was noticing that too, Valda... I do remember Shontar having a confrontation with a hunter of some local repute.
Perhaps he would have some insight, if we do not come across an answer ourselves.
Upon further consideration, Excellent point Bashuk about beasts... and they could be killing or... frightening the wildlife off.
You recognize that Evets is harmless, and he hopes that no harm comes to any of you. He is almost comically worried, though, that the party suspects him of wickedness. He is actually beginning to sweat with anxiety.
You pass across the easternmost boundary of the lands that you have reclaimed. While you have invested in revitalizing existing farmsteads and founding new ones for the refugees who've flocked to Ravengro, it would be all but impossible for these settlers to have depopulated the local game in only a few weeks.
Although this new expanse of land, stretching along the Vistear River, legally belongs to you as part of the county, it remains as yet untamed. Doctor Evets, recalling his last trip through the region, characterized it as largely uninhabited - at least owing to the abandoned hamlets and homesteads he witnessed. Even if some holdouts remain, woodsmen in the wilds or squatter in the hovels, they also would not be a satisfactory explanation for the lack of game animals.
The hairs on the back of your neck prick up.
You can narrow the watched sensation as coming from ahead, towards the general direction in which Clover's Crossing lies.
Kain almost shows a smile in regards to Evets.
Fear not Evet, I believe your claim. He pauses, a barest hint of a smirk shows briefly on his lips. But that doesn't mean I like you.
As the sense of unease begins to weigh upon him, Kain scratches the back of his griffon's head to help relax them both before speaking as he continues to scan.
Lady, I cannot help but feel that, whatever it is that awaits us in Clover's Crossing, is keenly aware of our coming. Perhaps watching as we speak. I suggest we remain alert for the remainder of our journey. I doubt this is the work of beast or man. It is too unnatural for that. For nothing that lives upon the ground seems to survive here. He thinks back to his encounter with the revenant, where he had nearly been found wanting. He steels himself, should he face such a creature or similar again, he would not waver.
Well, then Good Kaine... Let us not disappoint.
If we are attacked, our defense shall be coordinated and decisive. We move as one.
Dr. Evets, do you have and can you manage a crossbow?
"Oh. Oh wow," Doctor Evets mutters when offered a crossbow. "I think I may have used one at a shooting gallery at a fair, a long time ago. If I recall correctly, the best I could do was winging the target."[/b]
The sunlight fades. You have perhaps an hour's worth of safe travel time left. If something is lurking out among the moors and heaths, then being caught out in the open after dark is a wicked prospect.
Nikolai happily rides alongside Evets. Not that he was happy to be riding alongside the man who sells false remedies and empty hopes. His happiness came from the fact that he was able to write down his observations of their trip along with the fact that he wouldn't need to ride his horse that was tied to follow along the back of the garish cart.
Evet had wisely remained silent and did not talk to the Lepidstadt graduate. Instead, he watched and observed. He sat back at General Kain's observations, nodding in agreement.
"I concur. There could be a number of unnatural predators that have led to such...silence. We will need to exercise caution." The scholar advises, looking up into the sky as the sun begins to creep downwards to the horizon. With it went the light and...and the hope of safety.
"Shall we take watch? I require either the first or the last watch; a chance to refuel my spells will be best after a long rest."