Opening his mouth to give the red stag a reply Berrin's expression turns to one of horror as he feels his muscles turn heavy under his draws blade and he freezes in place.
'Uh oh..'
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Clad in full arms and armor Berrin dismounts deftly form Valnyr, despite the long travel the general had opted to wear the full plate and have Valnyr carry his spare arms for him and neither showed any particular weariness from it. Berrin had wanted to travel as lightly as possible, leaving anything but the barest necessities back in Sanctuary, but he hadn't won out in that one and had been forced by Aylene to accept a pair of escorts and a chest full of her version of the barest necessities, and as a result Berrin had added a small cart and two bodies to the procession traveling from the capital. Both men were good professionals that Berrin knew, Kristof and Marcin Wolscky, cousins out of Restov, Kristof a former woodsman and Marcin a fisherman, now both First Army regulars and veterans of Hydra Bridge. The pair chatted ceaselessly between themselves but both went about their tasks and duties without complaint, and Berrin was glad for the extra pair of eyes as well as the help to don the armor. Looking around the growing city on the hill with a somber expression Berrin is pleased with what he sees, sensible and defensible. Nothing seemed out of place and everything served a purpose. "Don't bite." Berrin says sternly to Valnyr as he hands the reins to a a stable boy and turns to greet Nikolai, walking over to the lord of the estate to shake his hand. "Love what you've done with the place, we came as soon as we could." The question had been raised about what Nikolai had gathered so far so Berrin saw no need to repeat the question instead turning to the Wolscky cousins and giving them a nod and recieving one in return. They would set up his room and see to it that Valnyr was taken care of.
The hours go by quietly for Berrin, in a silence only broken by the rustle of the wind and the sound of the fire. Wishing he could somehow comfort his wife Berrin shows amazing constraint in realizing his best option is to stay quiet and try to enjoy the moment. Brought out of the quiet by a knock on the door Berrin answers it to receive the letter from Jemini. Sitting down in his chair, his mother having left for the night, he sits down and reads the letter. Raising an eyebrow at the questions raised there Berrin's first thought is 'What the hell's do I know about undead?', but of course Jemini had a point. Mulling it over for a bit goes to his desk and scribbles a brief letter to each of the captains of the armies and to Zander and Akiros. The letter:
Make sure to coordinate with the clerics, of any faith, as they're knowledge and insights might prove invaluable in the coming days. If any offer insights or advice, do your utmost to see if their suggestions can be practically implemented. Boyar Myrdal It is obvious to any who know Berrin that his writing has musch improved in the last two years, no longer does he look like he's stabbing the paper with with the pen, splattering blood in the form of ink over the delicate material but his hand is quick, sure and precise. Reading the missives over Berrin just sighs and seals them all with melted wax and his insignia, writing each individuals name on the back he stops and wonders briefly whether there was anything else he could do, coming to the conclusion that, no, he was doing everything he could at the moment, he sends the letters off and tries to turn his attention back to his wife and son. He only had a few precious hours, they would go by quickly and Berrin couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't get enough of them.
Entering the room Berrin notes the founders and captains gathered in discussion around the map. Making his way to the the group he is let into the circle quietly and examines the map as he tries to catch up on the discussion, finding it gravitating toward politics. Listening keenly, knowing that the moods of the various nobles might play a great role in the treat assessment of the surrounding lands, he nevertheless turns to his captains, muttering quietly to them, making sure his information on the armies condition is up to speed.
Sitting patiently by Aylene's bedside 'till she awoke Berrin knew in the back of his mind that the war council had probably gathered already. He knew, but he just didn't care. Berrin trusted that they would proceed just fine without him, Kesten, Akiros, Zander and the captains all knew their business and wouldn't need Berrin to guide things along. Luckily he had had plenty of time to talk to his mother, hopefully she'd support him in what needed to be done. Enjoying the moment when Aylene woke up Berrin is taken aback by Aylene's accurate assessment of his mood, Berrin blinks and frowns at his wife, sitting up a little straighter. Eyeing her he realizes that he shouldn't be surprised, if anyone knew him it was her, and despite how well he tried to conceal his discomfort, she'd know. Sighing he sags and looks away. 'Here goes.' "It's Maegar, Aylene. Your father." he says by way of clarification. "We've lost all contact with Varnhold. Elsir's scrying produced nothing, not even a glimpse. It seemed to be blocked by something and I fear for the worst." Berrin trails off, glancing at his mother. "We managed to contact Nikoali, at Dragonswatch." he continues. "There are reports of missing persons there, he just initiated investigations, and we're setting the ready state of the army to high and going out to investigate. We head out tomorrow at first light." Looking up at Aylene he sees that her features have hardened, a frown on her face. "Please, Aylene.." Berrin is interrupted by Maegar giving a gurgle of protest which draws both their eyes to him, making Aylene catch her breath and force herself to relax and ease her grip on the child, helping him get comfortable again to no avail. "Here, child. Let me show you." Berrin's mother says soflt, stepping forward and picking Maegar up from the confused Aylene's arms. Setting him up on one shoulder she bounces the baby softly and pats it on the back, producing a burp after a short while, calming Maegar considerably. Giving him back to his mother they can see the look of confusion on her face, as if she is on the brink of tears. "There's no trick to it, love." she soothes the new mother, sitting down besides her and stroking Maegar's head as he settles back down to suckle his mother. "It'll come as natural as breathing before you know it. Just let him finish one before you set him to the next, no matter what they would tell ya, it'll help you produce for 'im an' make sure he grows up big an' strong. The consistency of his feeding for first months of his life will determine much about his future." Obviously calmed by the elder woman's presence she gives her a grateful look before turning her attention back to Berrin, her look turning into one of desperation. Rushing forward Berrin is quick to embrace his wife, seeing the look of fear on her face and judging rightly that she is on the brink of tears. "No, no, sssh..." he mutters into her hair, stroking it as sobs come forth. "Sssh.. it will be alright. I'll find him, don't you worry, I'm sure it's alright.." Berrin mutters words he doesn't really believe on instinct, hoping to sooth his wife. As the sobbing subsides Aylene gently pushes Berrin out of the embrace, which he reluctantly lets go off. Looking at her Berrin sees she has adopted a stubborn frown as she settles back onto the bed. "Muster the men Berrin, investigate the disappearances. Go, find my father." she says, staring forward unblinking. Standing up hesitantly from the bed Berrin can't help but plead with her. "Please, Aylene..." "Go." she interrupts him. "Go. Now." she commands. Looking away dejectedly Berrin slowly makes his way to the door, stopping, thinking that he would try one last time he is interrupted by another "Go." before he can even turn to face her. Sighing, Berrin leaves the chamber to make his way to the war council, he could only pray that his mother could hold some rein over her.
Turning on Verik when he objects to leaving for Dragonswatch Berrin eyes his old friend, regarding his reluctance as cowardly. "Then stay. I'm sure we can recruit another cleric willing to face the danger of undead." he tells the cleric coldly. Berrin's face goes through a variety of expressions as the talk moves to Aylene doing something less than thought-through, nobody knew how headstrong she was as well as Berrin after two years of marriage. "She's in no condition to ride. She stays and that's final!" Adopting a stubborn expression he looks Jemini and Verik full in the face, a stubborn expression that soon turns pleading, "Right? I mean.." Berrin looks away, looking for words. "...she wouldn't, would she? By Cayden.." Pondering how he'd bring the news to her Berrin turns away from the group and starts pacing again, muttering something to himself as he pictures an argument with his wife. Interrupted by Borodin's soft question he stops and looks up, meeting Verik's eye as he answers Borodin. "Tomorrow. We leave first light tomorrow. We need time to gather supplies, set affairs in order and make ready." "We need to put the army on high alert, Jem." he addresses Jemini. "If worst comes to worst then we can't be caught with our breeches 'round our ankles. Seeing as we've lost contact with Varnhold we must assume that an army could possibly have been raised already so the army must be able to mobilize with no notice." Waiting for Jemini's confirmation he waves over the squire. "Gather the captains in the war room, two hours!" he commands him, receiving an affirmative he looks dejectedly at his friends and makes his leave. "I must talk to Aylene." he says by way of excusing himself and goes to find his mother. If he was to succeed in convincing Aylene, he would need allies.
Berrin stands throughout Elsir's explanations and the ensuing discussions, shifting from foot to foot, holding the swaddled Maegar. His face goes through a variety of facial expressions as Vordekai, lichdom, branch points and the various points of history are brought up and discussed, feeling out of place and more than a little worried, glancing down at the sleeping new-born more than once, Berrin adds little to the conversation. When the discussion winds down and Elsir seems to be making ready to ready his spells Berrin sees his opportunity to depart the hall, walking up the steps deep in thought to check on Aylene. Making his way to their chambers Berrin finds his mother sitting in a chair sleeping, the nursemaids long gone and all tools and evidence of a new birth gone. The sheets have been removed, the windows opened and a fire is roaring. The room is quiet, almost serene when Berrin enters hesitantly. Going to the bed Berrin find it empty, looking through the drapes Berrin sees Aylene standing by the window, a blanket draped over her shoulders, looking out over Sanctuary and Lake Candlemere. Looking over to Berrin their eyes meet and she smiles softly. Stepping over Berrin is hesitant to meet her eye. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asks, making his way to her side and handing over the young Maegar. "I needed some fresh air." she replies, looking at her husband suspiciously. "Come, help me to bed." Giving her an arm to lean on Berrin guides Aylene to the bed and helps her get comfortable, tucking the covers in and making sure she has the best position possible. Going over to the window he closes it. "Maegar?" Aylene asks softly and Berrin's shoulders bunch up along with a sinking feeling in his gut. Walking over to the door, still not meeting Aylene's eye, he opens it and sticks his head through and waves a passing servant. "Send for a squire please." Getting a confirmation he sighs and steels himself to face his wife. Turning back to the room Berrin stops mid-stride as he sees that Aylene is crying softly in bed with the baby in her arms. The strong woman of steel, the brazen cavalier who led the charge against the trolls at Hydra Bridge, lays in her bed with tears in her eyes and looks at her husband. Rushing over to her side Berrin takes her in his arms and tries to soothe her. "No, no. Please, don't cry. Please Aylene." Sobbing soflty for a moment Aylene takes a deep breath and raises herself out of her husbands embrace, staring him directly in the eye. "Where is my father, Berrin? Whet's going on?" she asks firmly. Sighing, Berrin does his best to explain. "I took Maegar out to the council, to brag I guess, but the council was is session. Seems Tandlara woke briefly, warning of impending trouble, Vordekai, a lich by Elsir's reckoning is rising, or has risen, and Borodin has lost contact with his contacts in Varnhold and, no, no word from Maegar. When I left Elsir was going to prepare a casting of some spell to scry on them and check in with Nikolai at Dragonswatch." Looking up to meet his wifes eyes Berrin finds only grim determination on her face, husband and wife stare at each other for a moment with no words spoken between them, a look interrupted by a knock on the door and a muffled "Squire, sir." from the other side of the door. Feeling that no words were needed Berrin squeezed Aylene's hand and gave her a brief smile before standing up. "Enter!" he commands the squire, noticing his mother had woken up sometimes during his and Aylene's discussion, wearing a somber expression on her face, as he moves over to change into his white, padded generals uniform, the under layer for his armor that the squire had been summoned to help Berrin don.
'Find my father, Berrin.' Staring mesmerized as Elsir works with Aylene's parting words echoing in his mind, now fully dressed, armed and armored, Berrin's brow furrowed at the strangeness off it all, his hackles standing on end and feeling the palpable traces of magics in the air, a familiar sensation as Berrin had taken lessons from bards during the last two years at Aylene's behest, as well as from historians and various other tutors in so called 'lordly behavior'. Most had been received with little thanks from Berrin but one bard in particular, Orrin Falconan, a Taldan man in his early 30's, had perked Berrin's interest with his ability to change water into wine, an act that had sparked Berrin's curiosity and earned the man quite some credit and leeway when it came to less interesting subject matters such as politics and family connections. But now Elsir was chanting Maegar's name repeatedly, assuming that the spell was reaching some sort of climax as the crescendo of his voice rose Berrin found himself holding his breath and leaning forward, starring open mouthed at the elf work. When it was apparent that no results would be forthcoming Berrin sags and turns from the room. Meeting Verik by the door he mutters "Aylene will want to know." to his old friend, making his way to bring his wife the news.
Fortunately Aylene had been fast asleep when Berrin had snuck into the room, recieving a cold stare from his mother, warning him not to wake her unless the news was good, Berrin slunk back the way he came; out the door and back to where Elsir was performing his magics. Standing through another failed scrying Berrin was pacing, wearing down the rug, by the third. Frustrated at the lack of results, Berrin nearly jumps when Elsir indicates that contact has been made and starts addressing the silver bowl as Nikolai, hearing Nikolais voice after some moments Berrin steps up and peers at the bowl. Seeing nothing he arches an eyebrow at Elsir, receiving a signal that they can converse with him Berrin hesitantly replies. "Umm.. Nik? Hi, it's Berrin. Eeh.. Tandlara woke up, briefly, and warned about a threat from 'below'. She mentioned Vordekai, a lich from ancient times by Elsir's reckoning. Do you need help? We can be there the day after tomorrow, maybe sooner."
"Wait, Varnhold?" Berrin interjects into the discussion., his face growing somber. "We've been expecting Meager out of Varnhold for the past day, has Maegar arrived? Aylene has been asking for him, has nobody seen him yet? We need to send riders to meet him, send word to Dragonswarch, scry him too.." Berrin looks from council member too council member with worry written all over his face as he unconsciously tightens his grip on young Maegar. "And what about Nikolai? Could you do one of those sending whatever's you did on me when you warned us about Hydra Bridge when the trolls invaded?" he directs at Elsir, locking his gaze on the magister.
Rising his head from Aylene's Berrin sees that both she and the baby are fast asleep and the room was completely quiet. 'How long have I been in this position?' He had no idea, but judging from the stiffness in his shoulder it had been some time. Detaching himself gently from Aylene he places her head on the pillow and kisses her on the cheek, noticing his own cheeks hurt in the process. He must have been smiling he whole time. Looking down at the new-born Maegar Berrin gently detaches him from him mothers arms, sushing him as he does, keeping him calm, so she can get a decent rest. Besides, Berrin needed to display the child. Walking through the castle halls with a swaddle of cloth held gingerly in his arms and a smile plastered on his face he makes his way to the founders hall, looking for his friends. Entering the hall quietly he notes the fuss and bustle, the worried faces and the seriousness of the atmosphere. Standing there, disheveled from a nigh without sleep and then sleeping in his clothes, with the swaddled baby in his arms and a wide smile on his face he clears his throat to get attention. Beaming with pride he meets each of his friends eyes and asks innocently, "So.. What's the big fuss?"
"Nope, haven't seen him." Berrin replies half-consciously to the half-heard question, staring mesmerized at the child swaddled in Aylene's arms with a soft smile on his lips. 'A boy... Maegar Myrdal... My son..' Sitting down on the bed, next to Aylene, Berrin leans in strokes the stubble of hair on his head, black as his own, and traces his his temple and jawline with one finger. The boy, first, moves away from the finger, disturbed as he samples his first meal, but then calms down as Berrin mutters to him. "Big boy aren't you? Just like your daddy, and your gran-daddy I bet. On your mothers side anyway, my daddy was a mouse of a man according to my mother, guess I got my size from her, but your a big boy. And you'll grow up big and strong too, Elsir and Borodin told me, though I don't reckon I should be telling you too much about those two, or the future neither. But your here now, yes you are, and you're safe as can be Maegar. Maegar, you like that? You're grandad will, oh yes, he'll be proud of you I bet. He'll have to be. You're his as well I reckon, he's even louder than daddy, you'll love him just like he'll love you." Looking up Berrin meets Aylene's eyes and looks into a mirror, exhausted, smiling and serene. Leaning forward Berrin places a long kiss on her forehead and then shifts his weight, moving to a position on the bed sitting next to her he places one arm around her and they lean their heads together with a soft sigh. "He'll be here any moment I'm sure, don't you worry love."
Yay! Part 3 of the story :) School's started back up and I've been sick, I'll get better, and back in the saddle.
Erastus - Arodus 4712 The summer months are good for the kingdom of Newhaven, crops are plentiful, the mines and quarries work is productive and the sawmills keep supplying quality wood throughout the season. The roads and cities are kept safe by the various companies of Vaultmen, the Freewatch Guild and Newhavens own Guardsmen under Akiros Ismort resulting in a steady flow of goods and supplies and providing the stability that merchants and tradesmen desire the most in such dangerous lands. I lieu with it's discussions and planning the council claims and retrofits a Watchtower from the cyclpeedean ruins on Harpy Isle and, along with fortifying the easter district of sanctuary, dedicate the required resources for architects, builders and various tradesmen and artisans required to lay the foundations and plan out the southern district by the shore of lake Candlemere and, slowly over the high summer months, a hospital is raised, staffed mostly by the devout of Sarenrae though many skilled healers, and those interested in learning the art, are quick to offer their aid in making the hospital a welcoming place for any in need. The sector stacked out by the devout of Sarenrae takes on a more permanent shape as houses with large open, second story balcony gardens, domed roofs, colored, glass windows depicting various things, religious and not, and arched doorways, something of a clash between Osirian and Brevic architecture in a struggle to blend style with functionality, arise to fill up the lot with it's own square and well at it's center. The tale of Boyar Myrdal's reunion with his mother after First Brewing spreads through the kingdom and beyond, causing some to frown and others to laugh, but the Boyar's wife, now about 8 months pregnant, is often seen in her company and as best any can tell an intimate relationship is quickly formed between the Boyars wife and mother. The mother quickly becomes known for her hard tongue and tasty bred buns as she founds a bakery in Sanctuary to peddle on it's streets. She, herself draws many a customer as a curiosity item and people want to see if the Boyars mother is really peddling bred buns on the streets of her now-noble son's city. But her business is quick to rise and before long she has several employees peddling for her and any attempt to make investments in her industry is coldly refused by her stating that she accepts alms from no-one. Drawing near the end of summer, with the wind growing cooler and autumn on the horizon, the Cathedral of All-faiths is completed and a grand ceremony presided over by Jemini Lebeda is held, with the funds given by the faiths represented in Newhaven making the costs for Newhaven itself minuscule, and the building is both large and grand, taking up space rivaling the castle itself it is a towering masterpiece of architecture and artistry combined. Five towers of white marble rising a hundred feet in the air stand around a huge, open-aired circular dome of colored glass supported by marble columns ending in archways connecting from tower to tower. The area is all opened air gardens of flowering plants and flowing springs with paths of red gravel running through them, shrines to all faiths represented in Newhaven are scattered throughout the grounds among the foliage, each shrine as well wrought as the next. Standing in the center of it all, right under the domes middle, is a circular amphitheater with six rows of benches facing a circular stone table at it's center surrounded by twelve stone chairs, the Conclave of All-faiths council area, all open aired and open to the public. The only areas closed off are the towers themselves which house the clergy with plenty of space to welcome travelers of faith to Sanctuary. No expense is spared in the ceremony itself as all faiths pitch in their own rituals to help commemorate the day in a feast that spans from Fireday to Sunday. Starting on Fireday with a procession from the southern gates, led by Jemini Lebeda among the leader of each represented faith, walk to the Cathedral and a ritual of consecration is performed, each one adding his own blessing to ritual. The Erastilians make the grounds fertile, causing all the plants to bloom at the same moment and promising that the grounds will bloom again each spring and follow the seasons in a most natural manner, the Desnites offer a warding against evil and it's ilk, the Caydenites turn one spring by their shrine into an everflowing wine spring, Sarenites offer wards against undead. Archery contests, firesword dancing, the releasing of Swallowtail's and the ale rolled out by both Erastilians and Caydenites after the ceremony all serve to mark the occasion in a three day festival of games and laughter ending in a joint ceremony held at the cathedral on Sunday.
2nd. Arodus 4712 - Late afternoon the day after First Brewing; A Public Scandal. The first thing to come into focus was a steady ring resounding in Berrin's ears, a constant, high-pitched whine that usually followed after a solid hit on the helmet or a similar loud bang close to the ears. Muffled sounds are somewhere on the edge of Berrin's sound range as he furrows his brow at being disturbed from his sleep. Trying to open his eyes is a battle he's all-to-willing to loose as he works his mouth and frees his too-large-for-his-mouth tongue from the roof of his mouth as he tries to make reality out of his sleep drunk mind. 'Why am I so thirsty? When did I last drink anything? Why in the heavens is someone trying to wake me now!? What time is it?' Those thoughts and more race through Berrin's mind as he ponders the familiarity of the muffled sounds at the edge of his hearing, growing louder and louder in his consciousness. Trying to tell the voice to go away results in a weak "Uuughmmm..." coming from the Boyars mouth, trying to shift his position to a more comfortable one results in feeling like the world just kicked him off a cliff and the feeling of falling makes every nerve stand on edge as he fumbles around to grab hold of something to save his life. The sharp intake of breath is knocked out of him as he lands flat on his back, his eyes flying open and the familiar, muffled sound coming into focus along with a steady thudding in his skull. "BERRIN MYRDAL YOU LOUT! YOU GET OFF YOUR ARSE RIGHT THIS INSTANCE! DO YOU HEAR ME YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING SCOUNDREL! YOU WAKE UP RIGHT THIS INSTANCE! HOW DARE YOU, YOU SON OF A DRUNKEN DEGENERATE!" Berrin's eyes snap open with a muffled "Mum?" on his lips and he quickly finds a seated position which he immediately regrets and instead opts for the fetus position as the world tilts sideways and his brain threatens to leave out of his ears, the ground is cool and wet, welcoming, but the steady thudding grows louder and more distinct followed by the sounds of rushing water in the background. The quick glance he got of his surroundings tell him that the lights ate too bright and there are some people standing around. "Get up!" The berating continues despite Berrin's best efforts to will it to go away. "G´way.." he groans, managing the words a little better this time. "I will not go away Berrin Myrdal! You get up this instance! What is the meaning of this!" Putting one hand under him self Berrin slowly pushes himself to a seated position with his head hanging down and shielding his eyes with the other. 'I'm getting to old for this.' He thinks to himself as he tries to piece together what had led him to be here and where here was. "What!?" Keeping his eyes closed against the brightness Berrin raises his head toward the source of the voice and manages a near-complete sentence with a thin-lipped smile. "Whadya whant." It couldn't possibly be his mother, could it? "I want a son that's not an embarrassment, a thief and a liar! I want to live out my years in peace knowing I left something good behind me other than a litter of thieves and scoundrels that cause nothing but heartache and headache, worry and sorrow. Is you father here too? Did he put you up to this!? Answer me, or by Gorum boy, you'll get a licking!" 'Oh, s!#~.' That sounded like his mum alright. Sighing Berrin hangs his head again and rubs his temple, groaning, he opens his eyes, accepting the pain the light causes them. 'It will fade' Taking in his surroundings Berrin sees he is lying on grass, green and cool, surrounded by sparse trees and a red-gravel walkway winds among flower beds, next to him is a square stone table with stone benches at two sides which must be where he was resting before he fell to the ground, with amazing powers of deduction Berrin concludes that he must be in the park in the main district, he must have gotten lost on his way home from First Brewing. 'Teaches me not to mix Dragonsbreath with Bokkens.' Looking up at a figure outlined in the sun he can only confirm that his mother has, indeed, arrived in Sanctuary. Standing at near six feet, brawny and tanned, her grey hair tied in a knot behind her head, dressed in high leather boots her dress cut up to the thighs, wearing pants underneath it and a leather breastplate over it, a sword at her side and a shield on her back, her heavy hands in fists at her hips and her ever-present frown on her face. "Hi mum." Berrin manages with a weak smile. "Did I ever tell you you would be much prettier if you smiled a bit more?" A nervous laugh draws both Berrin's and his mothers eye to the figure standing behind her, Guardsman Corlsboch, uniformed and fidgeting, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, managing a muttered 'sorry' he raises his hands and takes a nervous step back. "Of course I only had to ask the watch where to find you. Of course that letter of yours was too good to be true. Of course you're just like your father, a drunken no-good liar who's only good in life is to run out on any iota of responsibility you get handed in life!" Her anger seems to rise, if anything, as she takes a step forward with a raised finger. "I should have known! And where'd you get that money you sent!? Who'd you steal it off!? And this wife of yours!? A fiction as well!? I swear, Berrin Myrdal, you'll be the death of me if I don't beat you to death first!" "Now, now ma'm." Corlsboch steps in, seeing that a crowd has gathered to witness the woman assaulting the Captain-General of Newhaven he raises his hand to try and calm the woman. "There's no call to be attacking the general like that." he says, glancing around nervously, it would be just his luck if this got out of hand. Stopping in his tracks as the woman's glare is directed at him he's quick to reply to the generals "Stand down, guardsman." with a "Yes, sir, Captain-General, sir.", unable to hide the relief in his voice as he steps back earning a quizzical look from the old lady 'Who looks like she'd take me thrice over in a fight'. Waving Guardsman Corlsboch over Berrin uses him to help himself stand. "No, no mum. It's all true." he manages as he waits for the disorientation to subside. "Aylene know where I am? Good." he asks the guardsman, earning a nod from him. "Come, mother. It's time you met the missus." Walking stiffly away, one hand on Guardsman Corlsboch's shoulder, Boyar Berrin Myrdal, Captain-General of Newhaven, makes his way, dirty and disheveled, through the park, past the foundry and the town hall, through the castle gates with his disbelieving mother in tow to introduce her to his wife and soon to be mother of his child, thankful with the knowledge that at least she would let him go back to sleep.
Pharast - Gozran 4712 Spring comes with it's rains and ice melts to the nation of Newhaven as it does to the rest of the northern countries. Farmers make ready to plant, lumberjacks start inspecting their turf to see how woods come out from under the winter and tradesmen make ready for a new season in business. With the thaw comes comes caravans from the north and south and boats come in from the Tuskwater out of Lake Candlemere from the River Kingdoms, sparking a discussion in council about the waters security and possible defenses. The council discusses the possibility of restoring the cyclops tower at Harpy Isle and, in lieu with that, Newhaven claims the lands surrounding the Tuskwater under it's protection, building roads and drawing more settlers to farm and work the land. Meanwhile White Heart sees a before unknown number of caravans and tradesmen come to their town (kingdom event) as the town seems to be the popular bet among merchants for profits in trade. Drawing less public attention, though it goes anything but unnoticed by the upper echelon, is the building of a military academy in Sanctuary and the appointing of Sigmund Greyhelm as it's headmaster, a Scaldic veteran of many winters, and men and women are drawn to it and it's potential. The following month sees a curb in Newhavens expansions and a shift to focus on it's cities infrastructure. A sector in Sanctuaries east district is carved out in honor of Cayden Caylen, Desna and Calistrae with Berrin and Aylene Myrdal's support as a temple, a tavern and a dance hall are erected. Named Talking Heads the tavern sports Nagrundi's twin heads as it's sign post and next door to it the Nymphs Fruit is opened, offering shows, a place for monitored gambling and a place for gathering in general merriment. Rumored to have direct ties to the Archbanker a stable is built as well to service the rising need of travelers to Sanctuary. Marking it's rise and growth the cities of Olegsgrav and Dragonswathc build a park and a monument for it's citizenry to enjoy and a jail is built in Olegsgrac and Whiteheart as well to house the growing number of disturbances to the peace that inevitably follows the increase of gathered humans and demi-humans alike.
17th. Pharast 4712 "What'ya think?" Berrin asks the large man next to him, somewhere between Berrin and Nikolai in size, a bearded, Scaldic man in his late 40's with more gray than red in his braided hair standing in the rain, mud caking up to his knees from the slogy dirt road that was Sanctuarys east district. Dressed in battered chainmail and with a notched axe at his hip and a plain brown wool traveling cloak draped over his broad shoulders, his round wooden shied painted white with a broad red stripe across it the man just grunts in reply as he stares up at the mortared, two story, grey stone building with water dripping from it's slanting red-tiled roof. Boxes, barrels and crates are stacked by the buildings front under linen cloth and the narrow glass windows are dark, that, and the grey, overcast sky give the impression that the building is old and abandoned, not new and waiting for it's first inhabitants. Sigmund Greyhelm, veteran of many wars, former sergeant of the Red Stripe mercenary group and Berrin's former drill sergeant, arches an eyebrow and stares at Berrin. "There's more in the back, com'on." Berrin says, waving him toward the archway leading to the courtyard of the compound. Sighing, Sigmund follows. Coming out of the dark tunnel, some 30 feet in length and 10' in width, and out into the wide courtyard Berrin has grown a grin and he starts pointing out the various features within the walled compound. "Barracks for students living quarters, staff will have quarters in the main building, stables, weapon storage, food storage, kitchens, Sanctuary has sewers so there are latrines in all living areas and the dump is nearby so refuse disposal is simple. Drill area, jousting area, duel ring and best of all..." Berrin pauses and looks at Sigmund seriously, "You're here." he states, drawing a snort from Sigmund. "No, seriously. We'll be drawing veterans from our ranks to send here, both army and police, and we've already seen interest from across our borders from Brevoy, Rostland, Varnhold and even Myvon. Men will be coming here to teach and train in short order, everything is in it's place but for one thing. I need a headmaster, someone I know and can trust. Someone to sift through the dirt that is sure to come through here and find me the one's that can be trusted to lead men in battle. A war is brewing, sir, and Newhaven needs capable commanders to lead it's troops." Silence ensues as both men stare at each other appraisingly in the grey light, Sigmund in his worn, veterans gear and Berrin in his padded white Captain-General's uniform and his blue cloak, Berrin is the first to brake the silence. "You're training kept me alive, sir. Me and many others as I was made general. If not for you none of this would exist as far as I'm concerned. You thought me soldiering sir, not just fighting, you kept me alive for two years despite my best efforts. This is, in part, your legacy around you. We need you Sigmund. I need you." Another silence ensues, longer this time, as Berrin has said all he could think of and Sigmund still just stared at him. "You've come a long way, boy, I'll give you that." Sigmund finally says, grudgingly braking the silence, and drawing a lopsided grin from Berrin as he looks around the compound again. "Alright. I'll bite. But don't you expect me to go around salutin' and 'sir'ing you boy!" he says, jabbing a finger at the Boyar. Berrin barks a laugh and grabs Sigmund hand in a clasp and shakes it with both hands. "Only in public, old boy, only in public. I am, after all a Boyar now." Raising an eyebrow at Berrins enthusiastic shacking of his hand Sigmund raises his other hand to point a finger. "Alright, but I'll need a quartemaster, I've never had a head for logistics, just shoutin', and I'll need people I can trust, if any of those teachers don't hold up to my standards they're out, and the same goes for these so called students...." *** 12th Gozran 4712
The first thing to run through Berrin's mind as his shoulders bunch up at being caught sneaking out is how much Aylene sometimes reminded him of his mother in the way she could use her voice to freeze him in his tracks. The second thought to run through his mind is followed by guilt at comparing his beloved to his mother and then more guilt follows as the realization hits him that he was caught. "But Aylene...!" Berrin near whines as he turns to face his wife, standing in the stairway in her night gown, a slight swelling of her belly on her otherwise firm warrior figure betraying pregnancy two months in. "The opening is tonight! Everyone will be there! The shrine, Talking Heads..." "And the Nymphs Fruit!" Aylene finishes for him, hands on her hips, face like stone, her fiery red hair back-lit by a flickering torch and her emerald green eyes taking on a yellow hue as her anger manifests. Those eyes that would be shooting lightning if they could. "Yes, and the Nymphs Fruit.." Berrin tries, lamely, unable to think of any good reason to go besides that he wanted too. "But, Aylene..." Berrin tries again. "No! Berrin. But nothing!" A finger comes out, pointing admonishingly. "You have lessons in the morning. We've discussed this, Berrin. As a leader of men and a noble you have resposibilities, Master Ratlain will be here first thing to go over your History and Lineages, Master Beufork will be here by noon to practice your speaking and grooming and you have council in the afternoon..." Aylene trails off, seeing her husband hanging his head with his fists bunched at his sides. "But Aylene.." Berrin starts again, growing angry at the unfairness of it all. He never asked for this, sure, he asked to be Boyar to marry Aylene, but the lessons? It was getting too much. "Everyone will be there.." he tries again. "The masters..." Aylene says again, softer this time. Berrin roars, looking up, anger evident in his every feature. "I've been slaving over those books for months! I've attended every lesson with every master you could draw out from the far reaches of the coldest hells for months! Filling my head with nonsense of lineage and postures, which fork to use for which course, which glass and what wine, what to address what lord and his bloody dog Silence ensues as husband and wife glare at each other for what seems an eternity, the husband angry at his loss of freedom and the wife angered at the tone of his voice. Sighing, Berrin's features soften as he looks up at his beautiful wife, made even more beautiful by her pregnancy and terrible anger. "Aylene... Please... I need this..." Berrin says, giving up, desperately wanting to go but desperately wanting to keep his wife happy as well. "Alright." Berrin looks up, not believing he just heard the ok from his wife. Seeing her features had softened his hopes stir. "Give me a few moments to get dressed. I need this too." Turning, Aylene heads back up stairs, leaving Berrin at their bottom with a grin on his face, the happiest man in the world. "But don't you dare make me carry you home Boyar Berrin Myrdal..." she grumbles as she goes.
Berrin's face is a mask of open surprise as he hears the kind words Jemini has for the kobolts and their endeavors in Sanctuary. Grand homes? These hovels were dirt-packed scraps picked up from the heap nearby. But then Jem would see the best of it wouldn't she... Looking around Berrin eyes his surroundings again and tries to see what Jemini sees. Low houses, mud-packed, dug down hovels with rickety bridges connecting the upper stories of those few that reached above Berrin's own height. Tightly spaced, the narrow alleys ending in walled buildings and a narrow road winding through the buildings. Raising an eyebrow the Captain-General realizes that this place would be a nightmare to assault for anything larger than a dwarf. Was that what Jem was seeing? No probably not. In a rare moment of insight Berrin suspected that she saw something grander, she might actually mean just what she was saying; There was hope for cooperation between species maybe not thought of before. If kobolts could be convinced to integrate with human society then what next? Dragons? The implications blew Berrin away, made him feel small in the grand scheme of things. Looking to Verik with a newfound respect for the Bankers efforts in interracial cooperation Berrin made a mental note about asking Verik to bring Jabber in for a defense meeting, if Jabber was the mastermind behind this districts planning then he might hold interesting insights on possible city defenses as well. Relieved when Eyess was revealed to be a single kobolt, living and breathing and giving lip to his leader, not some malign draconic sorcery Berrin wonders at the title the small kobolt insists on giving Jemini, curious at what the children call him he turns to Jabber for an explanation. "Kreka-tu-what? What did they just say to me, Jabber? And what is that title Eyes gave Jemini?"
Feeling an involuntary shudder at Jabber's drawn out mention of eyes watching the Boyar's grin, which had started to fade as they made their way through the 'tenements' of the Sootscale tribe, went away completely. Pulling his fur-lined, blue cloak tighter Berrin glances around, wondering how many there were that he couldn't see, hiding in the rubble they called home. Forcing a smile Berrin, unable to altogether hide his discomfort from his face, addresses Jabber. "Hah!" he fake laughs, wondering what the joke was. "Yes, errm.. we're here. Jemini was so keen to see your new home and I just had to come along... To, err, see you as well, of course.. erm.. Jem?" Raising an eyebrow he looks to Jemini, trying to gauge her reactions to what was effectively Sanctuaries first slum.
The messenger halts at Jemini's words and looks at Berrin who's face has adopted a grimace at the the thought of a kobolt cooked dinner, he'd ridden past the tenements several times to survey the new building grounds cleared east of the main district to investigate the prospect of raising a more militarized zone, a smithy, stable and perhaps to help Akiros and Borodin's dream of an Aldori dueling school, Berrin supported the idea fullheartedly but he had ideas of his own about what would be taught there, tactics, mass combat and leadership. If proficient commanders could be recruited there then Berrin was all for the idea, but the smell emanating from the tenements made food the last thing to come to his mind. Glancing at the messenger he shakes his head and shrugs, maybe bringing Aylene was a bad idea, of course not inviting her was a bad idea as well, that could bring a whole new level of problems on Berrin's head. Looking like he bit into something sour Berrin's train of thought takes him far away and comes to the conclusion that he needs a beer. Sighing he looks to Jemini and Verik to lead the way.
"Aylene? Good idea!" Gesturing over a messenger Berrin leans in and whispers in his ear, sending him on his way to fetch his wife. "They'll join us at the perimeter." Berrin says smugly.
This I got to see. Berrin cracks a lopsided grin at Jemini's insistence of touring the Scales, Berrin had seen them, and he wasn't keen on going again, but this he had to see. "Yeah Verik, no time like the present eh? You must be exited to show off how well you've 'civilized' the kobolts." With an emphasis on civilized the sarcasm drips from Berrin's voice as he gets up to follow them to the Scales.
09/4710 The month following the Battle of Hydra Bridge was a solemn time for the populace of Newhaven, with the battle fresh in their minds, efforts were made to soothe the inevitable aches of families of the men and women lost in the battle. A graveyard was consecrated in Sanctuary to hold the fallen in a ceremony led by High Cleric Verik Jarrow, an orphanage was established and overseen by the First-founder Jemini Lebeda and added housing was built for the, surprisingly, still growing populace. Efforts were made to expand Newhavens borders toward their allies in the east, Varnhold, and the ruined Erastilian Temple was annexed into Newhaven territory and the area cleared for settlement. With the troll threat dispatched Jabber, now chief of the Sootscales, announced within a week of the battle that his kobolt tribe would join Newhaven as citizens, assuring concerned parties that any wrong doers and doubtful among the Sootscales had died in the battle of Hydra Bridge or shortly there after. 10/4710 With the area around the ruined Erastilian temple cleared and the intentions to rebuild it announced and verified, Magistrate Jhod Kvaken announced his resignation from council and his intentions of accepting the offer of the local Erastilian clergy to take up the mantle of High Priest and assume the leadership of White Hart and it's surrounding area. Going with the blessing of the council and the resources to to build the temple and housing for a budding hamlet everything seemed in order as Elsir Tel'arn was raised to the council in his place. Efforts continued to connect Newhavens border to Varnhold and to solidify it's infrastructure of roads and farm. As the month drew on voices started to become louder and louder, voicing concern that the Erastilians had lost their voice in the council, refusing to listen to High Priest Jarrow's assurances that every faith had it's voice on the council through him as High Priest a sizable number of the clergy made camp in front of the Temple of All-Faiths in peaceful protest insisting that the High Cleric pay them more heed and take their concerns seriously. Thinking to come to the clerics aid, General Myrdal rode out with three units of Newhavens First intent on dispersing the crowd with words, his message was met with leers and jeers and thrown dirt along with the rising of angry voices. With one thing leading to the next more than one nose was bloodied and the result was a rallying of persons taking to the streets in the Erastilians support.
Here is the kingdom as it currently stands:
Olegsgrav (05/4709)
White Hart (10/4710)
09/4710
Upkeep
Edict
Income
Events
Here is the kingdom as it currently stands:
Olegsgrav (05/4709)
09/4710
Upkeep
Edict
Income
Events
Going over Berrin's equipment I'm dropping off some mundane stuff, giving me more wiggle room, here's a list of what I'm dropping, what I'm picking up instead and what I'd like Verik to craft for me. Dropping:
Sash of the War Champion
+1 agile half-plate mwk. handaxe longbow studded leather Picking up:
military saddle
saddle bags mwk. lance cold-iron arrows (20) Crafting list for Verik, if you please.: +2 full-plate
+1 on mwk. composite longbow (+4 str) +1 on Berrin's longsword +1 arrow (10) flaming arrow (10)
Why? If I treat by zero levels of fighter as four higher I treat them a four, giving me armor training 1 and braver +1, right? Am I missing something?
Introducing; Boyar Myrdal. |