Darrick Lebeda's page

"I believe I can answer the question of how the Swordlords found out about the trolls before we did." Darrick interjects. "A contingent of Swordlords went south to Mivon, who are our nearest neighbors. They're a River Kingdom that - if we continue to expand south - we will share a border with. They are a schism of sorts in the Swordlord hierarchy. There is a 'friendly' rivalry between the two, and twice a year they hold formal duels to see which school is best. That contingent discovered the trolls as they passed through. And before you ask, Jubal found this out from his sources in Restov."

"He also found out that they did not deal with the trolls because they felt that such an 'aside' would detract from the tournament in Mivon." He says with some distaste.

"I cannot say, Lords, why these things seem to happen this way." Darrick says, following you through the large double doors to the Privy Council chamber. "Some say we all live according to some pre-written script. That we have no control over events. Some philosophers even postulate that there are no gods, only an unseen all-powerful being who pulls the strings of our fates, under which we are merely characters in a play of sorts."

He gives grim smile to Talia and the rest. "Nonsense, of course. But I do admit that it feels that way at times. But to the matter at hand."

He strides over to the huge oaken table in the center of the room. Opening the scroll he carries, he places a heavy silver candelabra at each end. Then he begins to read. The scroll is from Restov, and it brings some alarming news. Word has reached the swordlords that a band of trolls has taken up residence in the southern reaches of Fairhaven's territory. They task you with eliminating this threat and promise support in the form of gold and supplies (BP) should you succeed.

"My lords," Darrick begins with a bow towards Talia, "I bring news of a matter of utmost import..."

"Maybe..." Darrick says carefully, with a sidelong glance at Vosil, "we should pay this room a visit."

The statement hangs in the air. All three Council members and Jubal look at Vosil for an answer.

Concord

Hold that roll

"Let's wait and see what we learn from your...associates, Vosil. One more day won't make a difference if it helps us know what we are up against."

"Indeed." Darrick nods. "But just the sort of folk we may need for the more...unsavory aspects of managing our affairs. If they can be controlled."

He waits for a response from the others, and when none is forthcoming he continues. "More interesting in the immediate future is this man speaking tomorrow. I agree with Vosil, we must be there to hear what is said.

Concord

The remaining of the Council listening attentively, if not a little bleary-eyed at Vosil's account of the meeting with the Szcarni. When he is finished, they don't hide their concerns.

"Well," Darrick begins tentatively, "one might ask why you didn't inform us of this meeting beforehand, Vosil." He holds up his hand to forestall any protest from Vosil. "You took quite a risk, if any of the stories of the Szcarni are to be believed. I will admit, I know nothing of these wanderers other than what rumors tell."

"Perhaps asking around to the people in general? There is a lot of unease about these killings. The people would be greatly relived if the Council were out investigating among them"

"Officially, we passed that talk off as nonsense..."

"A few days ago," Darrick continues without a skip, "some livestock were brutally slaughtered in their pens at an outlying farm; then two people were killed as well—a maid named Saki, who never made it home after her shift at an inn, and a shepherd boy named Beven, who (along with his flock) was attacked on his way back to town."

Darrick looks at Vosil with a purpose, then down at the drinks already laid on the Council table. "Agreed," he says solemnly, "you had better sit. Food is being prepared."

Once you are all comfortably seated, he begins. "There have been several attacks..."

"Who would that be, General?"

Darrick nods in agreement. "Indeed, Kesten." He stands up from the table, moving over to where a large arched window looks out over Concord and the lake. Clasping his hands behind his back, he says: "My knowledge of these creatures is not from personal experience of course, but I think we can expect some sort of resistance from the Chief. It may be that someone is going to have take control of the tribe, and I don't think that it can be done through negotiation." He turns.

"Am I right, Kaalib?"

It's obvious Darrick is treading lightly here, eager to avoid another confrontation over the kobolds like the last one. But, as is his wont, he is speaking the hard truth.

"Agreed." Darrick nods at Edric. "And if I might add to what Vosil has said: Kaalib, your desire to civilize your clan is admirable, but the practical realities must be considered. If we give in to his demand, he will be emboldened to make more demands, and more, and so on. When does it end? No, we should go in strength. Not with the army, but as one. And by 'we' I mean all of you. The chief will have to be dealt with, one way or another. Best to let him know that you will meet him part way on his terms: you will go to him, but from a position of strength, as a group."

Darrick looks at Vosil and smiles. "You mentioned 'Brevic tricksiness' Master Comarenza? Here's some for you...if Gavriil's ploy does not work, we need merely to take that area in the immediate area of the mine as part of Fairhaven. Then, we negotiate from a position of strength. No supplies get in, no gold gets out. Not without our say - and a heavy tariff."

At Oleg's...

Darrick frowns upon hearing of Magna's departure.

"Ah. That is most regrettable. I don't think we agree on the kobold situation milady, but I can respect your decision to hold to your word with them. I don't think the Brighthammers will see it that way."

"Just coming here has restored our faith that we did not make a mistake." He stands, raising his mug. "I propose a toast."

"To Fairhaven, may she never fail!"

"Indeed." Darrick says, agreeing with Asha. " No sooner did we get established as a government to do 'something different', we went right to Brevic politics when a situation presented itself."

"Not a proud moment." He sighs deeply. "I don't know Vosil or his history. I can only assume that his reaction was from a bad experience with politicians. I - we - would ask that we are treated with the same respect and dignity that you would treat each other. We will do the same. And as Asha said, there is no way to completely take the Brevoy out of us. We will speak our minds based on that. We only ask for a fair and equal voice in the Council."

and now...done!

Series of posts coming up, wait for it...

Asha and Kesten look to Darrick. The man looks at Talia for brief second, then rests his elbows on the table, hands clasped.

"Ah. That. As I am sure you are aware, Milady, there were - words - spoken in the Council chamber. Under normal circumstances, I could not let such words go without response - defense of my honor and all that." He takes a quick look at Vosil.

"But I came here to get away from such foolishness. I came to Concord to be something else, something more, than a Brevic politician."

He leans back in his chair. "Foolish hope, maybe. But I thought that a quick exit to let cooler heads prevail was in order."

"In my desire to let things cool down, I made a rash decision. For that I apologize."

Darrick's eyes narrow at Vosil as he speaks. "Let's reach an accord here, shall we? I think we can all agree that 'etiquette', as it were, has been a bit of an issue with all of us lately. Let's sit down as friends and eat. And establish what is we want to be."

But he does not get up.

"Good day to you too, Viscountess Talia." He says, with small irritation that basic civilities have been ignored. "Please. Sit and have a meal with us. We can discuss why you have come all this way over dinner."

"Are you listening to yourselves?? 'Genocidal gold-crazed zealots?' 'Kill the brothers and offer terms to the rest?' We are talking about kobolds here. Evil to the core. Maybe your friend Kaalib has risen from the depravity of that race, but rest assured they are as bad as rumor holds. This is not about 'Brevic politics', this is about our very survival as a fledgling nation. Do you know how many pissant kingdoms have come and gone in the Stolen Lands, Master Comarenza? How many have tried, how many have died? There is holding to your word, and there is madness. You decide which is which."

Now it's Darrick's turn to leave, followed closely by Asha and Kesten.

"Unfortunate, that." Darrick says, watching the retreating Kaalib. "But that doesn't change the situation. The kobolds do not work the mine, and there is no evidence that they will. Do we let a valuable resource sit idle on our doorstep? May I remind the Viscountess that we do not have an army or any force of note to protect a far-flung location like the gold mine?"

"Well said, Asha. The reality is these kobolds will forever be a thorn in our side. If the Viscountess insists on holding to her word," Darrick says with a nod to Talia, "as well she should, the Brighthammers become our 'out', as it were."

"In addition, Master Vosil, the Freedoms are ranked in reverse order of importance, if my lessons on them is correct. 'You have what you hold' is the most important Freedom. No one can hold you as an oathbreaker if you did not hold the area in question in the first place. Technically speaking, the kobolds 'hold' the silver mine. If they can't keep it, well then..."

'Seconded." Darrick says immediately. "We need to make sure the people's lives are not all toil. The people passed the Ritual of Stardust in an impromptu fashion, but we as the leadership must show we support them."

Fairhaven is good

Darrick steps forward to within a pace of where Talia sits on her chair. He stops and drops to one knee. Bowing his head, he says: "I am at your service, Lady Talia. What is your command?"

Behind him the room goes quiet. Then a chair scrapes along the floor, and a second. Asha and Kesten also drop to a knee.

Darrick watches as three of the charter members walk out. He looks pointedly at Talia.

"It would seem not all of the members are in agreement with your proposal, Talia. Still, you have the support of the rest it would seem. I have not spent enough time with you all to vote fairly, but if it were my preference, I would throw my say behind someone with experience in governing matters."

He pauses a moment, lost in thought. When he speaks again, it isn't clear whether he is speaking about you, or something else...

"There comes a time when all will not agree on the direction the leadership is taking a nation. In that time, you have two choices: stay and have your say, or leave and forfeit your right to speak out about it."

"Very well, Talia. I would normally require all the persons who are on this charter, but if one is missing, we will make do." He accepts Talia's arm and allows himself to be led into the common room of the Post. There Svetlana hurries about getting drinks of the Strolchnya, while Oleg grumbles but sets about the store. He is no fool, the wagons outside represent more business through the post than he would see in a year.

Once everyone is setaed, and drinks are passed, he speaks:

"The Swordlords are very pleased with your progress here in the Greenbelt. Events are moving quickly in the North, and they greatly desire a...reliable...neighbor on their southern borders.'

He chooses his words carefully, weighing them for impact. Clearly this a man used to the machinations of politics.

"To that end, it has been entrusted to me to bring you this..."

From a leather case he carries over his shoulder, he produces a scroll. The wax seal bears the symbol of Rostland. He breaks the seal, rolling out the scroll so as to read it:

"Be it so known that the bearers of this charter, having delivered the northern reaches of the Greenbelt from the scourge of banditry, having provided detailed maps of the lay of the land, and having done no small amount of work in the exploration of said land and the culling of hostile monsters and indigenous hazards, are hereby granted the right to rule. The nature and laws of rule are theirs to define, and the wellbeing of this new nation is theirs to protect. In accordance for providing a stable nation to the south of central Rostland, let there be a generous stipend of funds, support, and advice provided to this fledgling nation as a token of Restov and Brevoy’s goodwill, such that future relations between kingdoms might be mutually beneficial. So witnessed under the watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and by the authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne."

When he finishes, he lays the scroll down so everyone can read it.

"I have been sent here to assist you in this effort. The people and resources out side are to help with your...our...start." A broad smile breaks across his face.

"So. When do we begin?"

The man holds out the reins of his horse, but when no one is there immediately to take them, he frowns again, then lowers his arm, still holding them. His eyes take in the scene coolly, appraising each of you as you stand around the gate. Behind him, the wagon train labors up the small hill to the post.

"Talia Khavortorov, I presume?" He says after a moment. "Certainly you must be, Lady. You match the description I was given, and you bear the fine features of your family proudly." He adds, sweeping into a low bow.

"I am Darrick Lebeda, formerly of Rostland, and I am sent here by the Lords of that realm to...assist you in your endeavor in this land. Is there somewhere in this...place...that we can sit privately? I have tidings that should be heard."

"Knights of Kenabres,' the Queen begins, "you set out today on a quest long overdue - the retaking of Drezen. Remember your oaths, and march to victory!"

There a short but loud cheer, as the army raises its swords and shouts as one: "VICTORY!"

When the shout dies down, she begins again. "One more thing is in order. In light of their heroic efforts to save Kenabres, I present to the Heroes of Kenabres the Righteous Medal of Valor." She then drapes a medal around your neck, which looks like a demon's skull pierced with four red swords. "Wear them well." she says, so that only you can hear.

Then the Queen gestures to follow her into the pavilion. Once inside, you see everyone waiting for you. Anevia, Aravashnial, Irabeth, Sosiel, Nurah, Erin, and finally, Horgus - dressed in an over-the-top general's uniform.

"I've never been one for long ceremony," the Queen says, "so there you have it. Good luck, and may Iomedae smile upon you."

Details on the medals in Discussion

"Very well." the Queen says. She moves out of the Defender's Heart, flanked by her guards. Once outside, she mounts her dappled-grey warhorse.

"Meet me north of the city in one hour. We have a camp set there. I will introduce you to your army, as well as take care of some other business for you."

"Indeed. Form Vilareth Ford, you cross to the west bank and continue north until you reach the dry Ahari riverbed. This will give you somewhat of a natural trail to follow westward to Drezen."

"As far as the citadel is concerned, it was built during the First Crusade as a strategic foothold inside the Worldwound. Dwarves chiseled it from a rocky hill near the source of the Sellen. It held for well over a decade, withstanding almost constant attack before a traitor turned over the Sword of Valor to the demons. We never found out who it was, but with the Sword's protection gone, the demons overwhelmed Drezen in a single night."

"Despite its name, it's not a sword. It's a battle standard as I said before - an artifact once used by Iomedae herself during the Shining Crusade. The Church loaned the Sword to the First Crusade and allowed it to hang Drezen, where it bolstered crusader morale and, perhaps more importantly, warded against attacks, deceptions, and even teleportation."

"As far as we can tell, its somewhere inside Citadel Drezen. At one point, it was held in a special vault, but our divinations have only revealed that the banner remains in the Citadel somewhere. Alas, the same wards that protect it against demons also hamper divination attempts—but we know it’s still in there, likely kept as a trophy.”

"It's a 160-mile journey to Drezen from here. If you take my advice, I would head north to Vala's Gift, then follow the east bank of the Sellen to the ford."

The Queen's shoulders sag for a second, almost imperceptibly. She is tired, but looks you in the eye. "Fabian, I am sorry for your loss. I knew your mother, and her father before her. They were devout followers of the sword, and stout warriors. Much has been lost here, and we must be strong...united...in order to face the tasks ahead. For I feel that this the final play, the gambit the evil powers have long-planned. If we do not stop it here, we will not live to see the results."

All is quiet in the Defender's Heart save the scratching sound of a small child drawing on the stone wall of the inn with a tiny piece of chalk. For a moment, the Queen is startled to see what the little one is drawing: a child's rendering of the great dragon, Terendelev. She strides over to kneel next to the child, stroking her long blond hair. The little girl looks up at the Queen and smiles. "Hullo miss, who are you? I am Alina, and my father is a great warrior!" Her mother rushes over and gathers up the child, and with an embarrassed curtsy, whisks her off to a side room.

The Queen reaches out to touch the drawing, so much tragedy in so innocent a picture. "Yes", she whispers, "we have lost much. Good friends, staunch allies..." She stands, eyes burning from...what? Anger? Sadness? It is hard for you to tell. Then the moment is gone, and there stands the Paladin-Queen of Mendev, warrior maiden of Iomedae.

"The great dragon is gone, but you my friends have been blessed with great power in her stead. You are the heroes of the Fifth Crusade. Kneel before me." Without a word, her sword is given to her, and she draws the blade, holding it before her.

Placing it on each of your shoulders in turn, she swears solemnly: "Let it be known from this day forth that I, Galfrey, Queen of Mendev, Paladin of Iomedae, Commander of the crusading armies, henceforth bequeath these heroes the title of Knight of the Fifth Crusade. They answer only to me and the powers I serve. Rise."

"All of our hopes reside with you, Knights of the Fifth Crusade. May the gods smile upon you.'

"I understand. You must forgive my erstwhile commander of the guard, he is very protective of the title." She smiles at Bollwerk, but it is a weary smile, the smile of one who has seen much suffering.

Add +4 for each 'extra' skill you have on that list. If you have History and Local for example, you get + 4. All three gives you +8. As always, you can the spoilers of a lower DC than what you roll.

"Your Majesty..." growls the scarred knight next to Queen Galfrey. She shoots him a look, but ignores the comments for now.

"“We’re sending three specialists with you. Aron Kir was a cleric of Shelyn here in Kenabres before the temple was destroyed—he can help with healing as needed, but he’s also quite knowledgeable about demons and their tactics."

"Sosiel Vaenic is an expert on siege tactics, traps, infiltration, scouting, and the like; he’s where you’ll be getting your map of the Citadel, incidentally."

"And lastly, there’s Nurah Dendiwhar. She’ll be supporting you with her bardic magic, but she’s also an expert on the regionb and knows more about Drezen than anyone in Kenabres at this point, I’ll wager."

"I’m also going to be sending an army of crusaders with you. There’s only a hundred of them, but they’re all devout paladins of Iomedae. It’s not a large army, but you’ll be able to move without attracting attention. Trust me, that’s an advantage when it comes to demonic foes. They hit hard, so it’s best not to give them the opportunity.”

"Ah, so you are the ones." She looks at Fabian. "You see, I too, have received a vision from the Inheritor. While there are some narrow-minded souls among the crusade who blame you for the destruction of the wardstone border, I do not begrudge you for what you did. Far from it. From the sound of it, you saved entire legions of crusaders from a most vile fate by preventing Vorlesh from transforming them, and the blast of energy gave us the time we needed to regroup and prepare for what will certainly come next."

The Queen stands and begins to pace. "But you understand the implications of what you’ve done, I’m sure—the wardstones are gone, but Iomedae has seen fit that you will be their replacement. I can think of no other reason that would explain why their power would have settled in your bodies and souls and didn’t merely fade into the ether. In time, the demons will regroup and reorganize—we can trust their inherent chaos to make this period of regrouping longer than it otherwise would take, but we shouldn’t underestimate them. They’ll be back soon enough. Already I’ve had reports from along the front lines that small groups of demons are attacking fortifications and settlements along the southern border." She pauses to take a drink.

"But what intrigues me most is news from several reliable sources that as our fiendish enemies are starting to mass in the southern reaches along the Riftshadow within the Worldwound, they have left several of their northern lairs relatively unprotected. In articular, the fiend Aponavicius has taken the bulk of her army from Drezen, leaving it only moderately protected as she joins with the Storm King in Iz to, no doubt, plot greater attacks on larger targets like Nerosyan, Karcau, and beyond. The time is right to strike into their territory."

"Drezen was the first of our cities to fall after the First Crusade, and we lost more than our kin and our pride that day. We lost the Sword of Valor, a magical banner carried by the Inheritor herself during the Shining Crusade. If Drezen could be retaken—if the Sword of Valor could once again be held by the crusade... well, I trust I don’t need to explain how well that would affect morale. But with the imminent attacks along the border, I cannot spare many to lead an assault on Drezen. And even if I could, a large army attacking the city would only draw Aponavicius back to defend the place. The obvious tactic is to send in a group of capable heroes with a modest but well-trained army to strike now, while the proverbial iron is hot. And this is why I’ve sought you out. If you can retake Drezen and reclaim the Sword of Valor, not only will you silence the fools who would brand you traitors for destroying the wardstone, but more importantly, you would bolster the entire war effort with your heroism. And I fear we need all the bolstering we can get!"

Queen Galfrey nods, and the knights rise, watching you all intently. Removing her helm and sword, she hands them to one of her knights, who receives them with a bow.

"Ah then, good. We've had word of events here in Kenabres. I came as fast as I could, but gathering troops from the borders and marching north under these new...circumstances...well, three days was the best we could do." She takes a stool from a nearby table and sits.

"Please. Sit. We have much to discuss and little time for pleasantries...or formalities to be honest. The paladin Tirablade I am familiar with. You," and here she levels her gaze at all of you, "I am to understand are the heroes of the hour? The saviors of Kenbares and possibly also of Mendev itself?"

The Queen watches each of you after her question, weighing carefully your response.

"I do." The voice is feminine, but hard as steel. This woman enters the common room, and all of the knights fall to one knee, heads bowed.

"To whom am I speaking?"