The Storm Crow sits at a crossroads, wondering whither the storm will come. But it is always coming, he thinks, stretching his legs and raising his bundle to his back, the Storm always comes to the Fair Lands.
And with that, he turned, heading on to the Vault of Heaven to warn the King. . .
The audience chamber of the King's residence is packed, the high councilors arrayed in the front, and others in the audience gathered here. The strange creature seeking audience before the King is a tengu, a ravenlike humanoid, and a somewhat filthy specimen at that.
Bits of bone, runes, feathers from other birds, and twigs are weaved into the black feathers of the form that stands before you, leaning against a gnarled tree branch, dressed in a filthy traveling robe.
"The Storm is Coming!" The Storm Crow, for that is what he was called, shouts.
"The Storm is coming, and when it breaks, it will sweep away all the Thirteen Petty Kingdoms of the Fair Lands! Set aside your pointless squabbles- for alone, your Kingdoms can only perish!"
The crowd laughs for a minute, but then, look to the dais to the King and the High Councilors to see how they react. . .
Fair Lands, indeed...
The wizened mage looked to his liege, waiting with respect to see how he would respond to this petitioner. A measure of fairness has already been extended in granting this feathered soothsayer an audience in the first place. Despite the accusation the Vault of Heaven's squabbles against the other realms were pointless, the inevitable conflicts were at the fore of Alvero's mind.
His pale skin was in contrast to the tengu's dark feathers as much as his orderly process of refining the land's productivity was to the alarmists' knee-jerk warning. The wizard was no clergyman, and not concerning himself with the spirit realms beyond, he saw few problems martial strength with material support couldn't fix.
After the crown had his chance respond of his own mind, he straightened a crease in his robes and took a few paces over to him, bending slightly to speak softly. "How and when he learned of and revealed this is - if the story is to be believed - as interesting as the information itself. Why one messenger? Why now? And are there more details being held back."
Alvero bowed his head slightly before stepping back and righting it. He had no idea if the alarmist was telling the truth, but the more outlandish a tale, the more skeptical he tended to be. Perhaps it was himself getting on in years, but he'd hoped the king would take after that trait and dispense with much rubbish and expedite his dealing with the riff-raff. Since his wife's passing, the tower elf had been more cold, treating most people like commodities more than commoners. People of status or ability sometimes caught his eye at a different angle though - people like the kind and the councilors here. They can make things happen, and together, we can change the Fair Lands into something useful.
He exhaled slowly. Perhaps some wine would take the edge off after this session of court.
When Addanc appeared before others, he would wear his great full plate, sans the gauntlets, and with the helmet on a stand near him. His crown was a simple circlet of platinum, a far cry from the lavish gold crown encrusted with jewels that his father used to wear. Addanc's armor was a terrible thing to behold, and his mace always rested against the throne. Despite his menacing appearance, his voice was always warm and friendly, and his eyes had a kindly edge, something that his high councilors knew that he worked hard in front of a mirror to cultivate.
"Indeed Tengu? A great storm is coming?"
He pauses, and listens to Alvero, nodding slightly in agreement.
"If this is true, it could be quite serious indeed. Perhaps my spiritual advisor Maurice would be best suited to hearing your story out."
As if summoned from the shadows, Maurice bends down beside the King to speak in Addanc's ear. The man is unnaturally pale, and the whites of his eyes are shades of grey, the irises pupilless and the yellow of weeping pus. However, his dark hair and moustache still contain some color from before his accident.
"My King," he speaks, toadying and deferential, "as you wish, as always. I would be honored to serve you. But if I may," the once-human stands and approaches the Storm Crow, but as he does so, a keen observer may notice that his own shadow lingers beside the King's, seemingly whispering words to it before moving to catch up with the fetchling, out of step and out of sync.
Maurice addresses the entire court as he inquires of their guest. "Crow. You stand in the Vault of Heaven, and in the court of our King, the Avatar of Hapi, and your warning comes during the very month of our goddess. Her feasts and observances are days away, yet you tell us that we are without allies?"
The spiritualist holds his breath for a moment, allowing the susurrus of the court to spread and catch itself.
He is walking a delicate line. Trying to win the crowd's favor by turning them on the tengu, but without going so far as to discredit the bird, incite a panic, or get the bird chased out.
"This is most alarming news," he finishes, throwing the weight and gravity of his position at the Crow's feet.
Maurice's shadow plays and dances along the wall, belying his serious demeanor. In his eyes, he has won (or started to), and regardless of how the Crow responds, regardless of whether the crowd turns on him or lets his fervor and zeal drive them, doubt and fear is in their minds.
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Grym leaps up at the pronouncement of the storm letting his voice carry out like a hammer upon the anvil secure in the truth well made steel.
always the caution that the storm comes, never what comes after the storm. The Sun! Like a hammer through the doubt of the storm cleaving the clouds in a burning truth of light! Here is our moment my King and people. When weaker fools are washed away the sun has planned and knows that it's warmth and power will shine upon all the land! Let us take advantage of the washing away of these petty kingdoms my king and be like the sun, shining and ruling over all these lands ready in power to rule where others have fallen.
"I saw it- a vision, from the Gods if you will. Prophecy is not an exact science, of course! I see the Fair Lands engulfed in the storm- winds and waves toppling the Kingdoms one by one- that is all."
"Hapi, if I might my Lord, is after all the Goddess of death- would fetching back her own to her bosom be seen even as a bad thing?
But there are always times for things- and the Month of Hapi, when the Great Moon has hidden her face- is it not always a time for bad omens? A Bad Year, as they say."
There is but one other, a scout from the Northern border waiting to bring news in this audience session.
Tengu are known wanderers. Always after some mysterious purpose, they wander the world collecting information. The Storm Crow himself is the only tengu inhabitant of the Fair Lands, ordinarily he travels tutoring noble children short term for pittances, or advising courts in short term capacity, and he has been spreading this particular tale in every court in turn.
Standing among the Councilors and Advisors was Finja of Aaramor. The wiry woman was neither Human nor Dwarf, and felt like the anomaly she was at court. Half of the Advisors probably assumed she was a plaything of the king, or here as some kind of affront or amusement.
Finja cared little - all it meant to her was that she was less likely to be the target of any internal intrigue - and that was a plus in her opinion.
Unlike the River Elves, her kind dwelled in the forests, and her smaller frame - a head shorter than most present - allowed her to easily move through the underbrush. It also meant she stood near the front, so that she could see at all, and had a good chance to muster the Tengu while the others talked.
She, too, stepped forward to be heard:"Storm Crow, you call yourself. My kind is long-lived...I was only considered an adult after more then a century had passed...and every decade, someone came forth with prophecies of ruin and salvation. Nothing happend, so far. Why, then, should we heed your words? Do you bring proof? Something tangible? A means to learn the truth you claim? How does your dire prophecy elevate itself above those of years past?"
"Would that I could bring proof- that I could show you the visions I have seen! Lo, who would deny the truth of my words if I could? Alas. . ."
Addanc shifts in his throne, deep in thought.
"The Crow says we must unite or we will perish. Unite..." He snaps out of his reverie, and the advisors closest to him can see a brief flash of avarice cross his face, but it is gone in an instant. "I'm sure that you understand that matter of national policy are best deliberated upon, in private. Perhaps someone can show the Crow to some quarters, in case we have further questions. In the meantime I must grant audiences to others who desire it. You are dismissed for the time being."
Addressing the scout from the Northern border,
"You may approach the throne."
"You Majesty," he says bowing before the throne, "I bring news of a band of Nictari raiders who have grown bold- a dozen men, it is said, operating in the northern woods. They have eluded our patrols and the local constabulary."
"It is said, My Lord, that some of the villages in the areas your father conquered are Nictish by blood and they may be loathe to give up these raiders, even though they strike indiscriminately across our borders."
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"Unity is what the crow promotes. For too long we have had bad blood between us and the Nictari, and if a great storm really does blow our way then we must have allies in the time to come." His eyes lazily look around the room at his advisors, deciding seemingly on a whim on... "Maurice!" He beckons his advisor over, stating in his loud authoritative voice as his advisor walks, "Organize a delegation to speak with the rebels of peace in our time!" As the advisor reaches him, he whispers. "And ensure that the delegation dies at Nictarian hands."
The scout nods and withdraws. . .
The king's mind is racing as he goes through the court niceties, and ensures that the storm crow has someplace pleasant to rest that also allows for easy spying. Then he gathers together his most trusted (or at least most competent) advisors, and sends the rest of his court away.
"The Crow brings grave tidings. Regardless of the possible truth of them, it seems likely that we can turn this to my advantage. An excuse to invade the Nictari that also positions us as the wronged party is an excellent start, but it is just the beginning. What are your thoughts on the matter?"
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"They consider themselves belonging to a culture group that is not represented sufficiently in your kingdom, my liege. The simplest way to gain their acceptance, then, would be to ensure the entirety of their culture lies within your jurisdiction. Have their leaders bend the knee, or replace them with ones that will, then make sure their children learn that the Nictari are part of the Vault, and highly valued members for their prowess in combat. Make them proud of country and ancestry, and interweave them - if someone then calls either into question, their patriotism will make sure they remain loyal. If the only place they can belong to is us, then that is who they will consider themselves part of.", Finja adds her counsel.
Listening to the schemes brandied around him, the wizard nodded to himself. Invasion has a satisfying ring to it, young king, but patience.
He cleared his throat.
"An incursion of force - despite favorable odds of victory - is expensive. It costs lives and resources, not just to secure the new lands, but also in destruction of the territory that would fall under your patrimony. Finja's more temperate plan may require more finesse, but it will enrich your realm all the more as a result."
The tower elf turned to the forest elf. "Did you have particular people in mind for those substitutions? I confess while I'm well connected with the mercantile classes, foreign nobles aren't generally my supper-mates."
"I favor Finja's plan of integration as a long term solution, but how will we force their leaders to yield to us without tipping our hand as an expansionist state? I would not have the other nations worry that we would attack them unprovoked."
"Oh, but they are the aggressors. Some who claim to follow them crossed the border and raid our lands. Surely, they must understand that such is not acceptable. If they can or will not tell their people that these lands and those living on them belong to the Vault, then most certainly nobody could object to enforcing peace forcefully...make them kneel freely, or by breaking their leg. It is no matter, as long as the people see them kneel. After all, anybody who would claim these are Nictari lands and that Nictari is not an ancestral part of the Vault are agitators that threaten the fragile peace in that part of the realm.", Finja smirks.
Of course, that was a lie - there was hardly some ancestral claim to the northern realm, but what did your average citizen know about politics and history? And the scholars? They would tell exactly what kept them alive and in business.
"I mean, we were willing to work with their self-governance, but if they abuse this autonomy to try and escalate hostilities, then certainly it must be revoked, for the sake of stability in the region."
She turns to Alvero:"Unfortunately, no, I have nobody in mind that we could use. But in a warlike society like theirs, there will be no shortage of ambitious young people waiting for an opportunity to prove themselves. And understanding that cooperating with us will be much better for both their people, and themselves - when the alternative is war. Even if they entertain the foolish notion that they could stand against us, they would pay a terrible price in blood, during and after the conflict. They are raiders - but not used to defending their own homes or being starved out. So no, I have no one specific in mind, but I am reasonably certain we will find suitable candidates."
"Time is of the essence. I value a quick solution for this problem so we can turn our attention to more worthy targets. However, subtlety and tact are of even greater concern, the other nations must not see us as the aggressors, lest they become agitated. Perhaps we should approach promising Nictari who share my ambitions. I expect that many of you have connections that you can leverage."
"Perhaps we should send an envoy to Daercia as well, to ensure good relations between our two nations as we peruse this course of action. My brother Alister might be a good choice, he presents well."
The king's expression remains calm when talking of his brother, but he worries about him, both as a king worrying about a political rival, and a brother sending soldiers to their doom. Daercia would be a good place for Alister. Out of Addanc's hair, and safe from the frontlines.
"Send out a small party of reliable, but expendable soldiers. Tell the Nictari that we wish to have peace and that Addanc himself will be present to preside over the negotiations. That ought to draw the attention of any rogue Nictari, and ensure they'll all be there. I will of course need backup."
Three days later, your soldiers return escorting a single Nictari woman who has come to represent her people.
"Mighty Addanc, you offer to negotiate for peace. I am come to set terms or parlay."
As you are traveling towards the meeting point, an attempted ambush by three Nictari halts you in your tracks!
Round 1
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
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Grym presents his holy symbol and uses selective channel to deselect the members of the group and then yells out (as a standard action) and channels into the ambushing enemy (they are within channel range? If not I move to being them into range presenting the holy symbol as part of the move action with BAB 1)
Zailor God of Sun and Sand commands you to bow to your rightful lord and king!
Round 1
The one which is not dazed charges!
miss!
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
Finja takes a single step forward as she draws two arrows from her quiver, then fires both at the attacker:"You would assail your rightful king? How foolish..."
Addanc looks pityingly at the Nictari who's spear bounced off of his armor. No words are needed here. He reaches out a hand, and puts it on the charger's face, gently exerting downwards pressure as he does so.
"Kneel." His voice is gentle, warm, reassuring.
Round 1
Addanc touches the one that attacked him, and two shots from Finja puts him down!
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
Round 2
The Nictari advance and use full defense!
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
Addanc lifts the body of the Nictari warrior at his feet. "This warrior still lives. Would you not prefer to keep it this way?" He advances towards the remaining Nictari, using the fallen warrior as a supplement for his shield. "If you kneel now, and apologize for your actions, I will spare their lives and your own," he says, although he isn't yet entirely sure if he means it.
Finja nocks another arrow and pulls the string, aiming at the Nictari closest to Addanc, ready to fire.
Round 2
The Nictari advance to attack, and Grym channels at them, and Finja strikes but misses.
but both miss!
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
"I make good on my promises."
Addanc crushes the Nictari Warrior's throat.
As was usually the case, a parley resulted in dissatisfied parties on both sides. Usually, this meant each held true to their causes. In this case though, it meant the Nictari had miscalculated.
While the cleric had sought to exert subservience in their hearts, Alvero favored an older, more inescapable format of persuasion: force.
Waving his left hand in the air, he gathered enough arcane power to push at a particular point on one of the interceptor's bodies. The collar should do...
He was surprised Addanc would leave them alive after such brazen assault, but then again, Alvero likely surprised the others by taking direct action in a fight. Being very much aloof from such matters by preference, it seems he'd not gone rusty in stoneworked halls.
However, true to form, the wizard retreated a few paces to keep himself out of harm's way.
Who knows if they have more. I'll conserve my main energy until it's needed.
Stepping closer to get a better line of Fire, Finja does not stop firing, letting 2 more arrows find their mark, while commenting with a low voice:"So be it, then."
Addanc crushes the downed Nictari, attempting to make an example out of him, ending his life.
Finja and Alvero strike, wounding one (now red).
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
Red: -23
The Nictari step up, while the other dances to the side to flank.
hit!
Turn Order:
1. Grym
2. Nictari
3. Maurice
4. Addanc
5. Finja
6. Alvero
Addanc: 30/36
Red: -23
Addanc, somewhat non-plussed by the seeming lack of any reaction from the Nictari other than obstinate assault, draws Gorund, his masterwork light mace, aiming for the already damaged one so that Finja will have a place to stand and fire freely.
"You throw your lives away to doom your cause? What idiot worked out this plan of yours?", Finja asks as she steps right up to the Nictari, not giving him an opening as she fires twice more from Point Blank Range.
Finja's arrows miss this time, and the Nictari tries to parry!
and turns Addanc's mace aside!