Session One Hundred and Twenty-Six - February 13, 2016

Wherein the ongoing story of the FtF campaign may be found ...

Session One Hundred and Twenty-Six - February 13, 2016

Postby Matt » Thu Mar 03, 2016 3:05 pm

Azura 19, 732

The breakfast meeting begins on a normal foggy day.

Baris begins, “Ewen! You mentioned that Meden knew where Kryste was.” Baris continues on this thread of how Kryste is a horrible person and should be found and have very bad things happen to her.

Ewen frowns at Baris’s rant, saying nothing.

Baris, realizing where this is going, says “I mean, do you know where exactly in Orbaal she is?”

Ewen replies with a frown still firmly on his face, “No I do not. I did not inquire. Perhaps you should you should ask Sir Meden yourself.”

Baris shakes his head ruefully. “He doesn’t like me. I mean I’m sure there’s a reason but I can’t think of it, wait, I mean I did insult his father but I did apologize.”

“Right, that is all water under the Pont Neuf. Baris, before you go any further, I would like to know how this would further my designs in life. What is in it for me?”

Baris frowns, brow furrowed as he thinks.

Ewen nods as if to himself, “I thought so. Aeomund, so what about your new face?”

Aeomund turns and glares at Kaelyn, but before Aeomund can say another word Baris speaks up, “I know! We need to find her from keep her from coming back and ruining us!” Baris looks quite happy that he thought of this.

Ewen sighs, apparently there would be no diverting Baris from this track, “Ask Sir Dregald then. Find out where he drinks.”

“Of course!”

“Kaelyn, how long is this new look of Aeomund’s is going to last?”

“That is an excellent question,” Aeomund asks as he looks at his reflection in his knife.

“It should have worn off by now,” Kaelyn replies, with more irritation that her spell did not perform as intended than with concern over Aeomund’s new face.

Baris looks at Aeomund and asks with sincerity, “Have you tried not being Sir Dunisel?”

“I can fix this … I mean what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you kidding!?” Aeomund does not appear to have much confidence in Kaelyn.

Ewen sighs again at that breakfast banter. He motions for his squire to go inquire if Lord Firith is in residence. Aeomund, having been told by Kaelyn that’ll take some time for her to prepare to fix his face, decides that he must go to the temple to pray because he believes Larani is angry with him.

Kaelyn goes upstairs to study for the day. Baris decides that he will have a few more ales and thence will go look for Sir Dregald.


As Goreg makes his way over to Firith House he hears raised voices. It sounds like one group of men taunting another group. He sees a number of soldiers taunting the Osel guards near the gate, but does not recognize who is doing the taunting. Standing back, he listens to the two groups of men trade insults when the gate opens and more people come out. The group in the street, having decided they made their point, starts walking in the direction of Firith House. Goreg being a practical sort, decides to backtrack and go around long way. This does not help him avoid the group of men as he sees them in the street heading through Haldan Square.

Goreg continues on his way to Firith House. The gate stands open and a guard stands hard by.

“Who goes there?”

“I serve Sir Ewen. Is Lord Firith in?”

The guard looks at squire, “Just wait here.”

Soon the guard returns and beckons the squire to follow him. As Goreg follows the first guard, he notes that another soldier falls in behind them. In the courtyard he sees a number of troops, more than 40 is his guess. In the house seated at the table in the hall eating and conducting business, with multiple scribes helping with the work, is Lord Orsin Firith.

“Where the fuck is my son?!” he exclaims.

“Sir Ewen wants to talk to you about that my Lord. Sir Prehil is up at Raven Hall and all is well in hand and …” Goreg begins to stammer at the very displeased face of Lord Firith.

“Tell Ewen to get over here.” Orsin motions to his guards to escort Goreg out, who nearly runs home to tell Ewen all that transpired.

“Go upstairs to tell Prehil to get ready to go see his father.”

Goreg makes his way up and knocks on Prehil’s door. There’s no answer but he does hear giggling and some rustling behind it. After knocking a few more times the door flies open and Prehil stands there draped in a sheet with two ‘pillows,’ both brunettes, giggling in the bed behind him.

“I’m busy!”

“Your father was most insistent you come home.”

“Father is in town? I’ll be right down. Girls don’t go anywhere – I’ll be back soon.”


Meanwhile Aeomund intones and chants while lying prostrate before the altar begging for his lady’s forgiveness. He pledges in offering a warhorse that he seized as war booty at Ternua to the Order of the Lady. After many prayers, he feels a small measure of calm and he returns home to Raven Hall.


Ewen, Prehil, and Goreg make their way over to Firith House, finally. Prehil was delayed for a time. Before they left, Ewen had Prehil wear a hooded cloak as to hide the fact that he was alive and well for a short time more.

“I need to drink first.” Prehil says, “I fear nothing … except my father.”

Ewen merely raises one eyebrow, “How did you get the girls in?”

“I sent out,” Prehil shrugs, “I gave my list to one of your servants; she was very accommodating. I tipped her a whole penny, I hope that’s alright. I borrowed the coin from Aeomund’s room.”

“Have you seen Aeomund lately, he just doesn’t look himself.”

“One question, is my wife there too?”

Goreg answers, “I didn’t see her, but it was a rather short and abrupt visit.”

“What is the bloodline of your wife?” Ewen asks, curious after hearing much about the temperment of Prehil’s wife these past few days.

“Her father is the Captain of the Royal Guard.”

The guards recognize Prehil even underneath his cloak and they banter back and forth as they make their way across the courtyard.

Prehil looks at Goreg says, “By the way I heard you had some trouble the other night. You are going to have to work on that. It’s not as hard as you think.”

Goreg looks ashamed, “That was the problem.”

Prehil stops walking and looks at Goreg, “Okay,” not sure if the serious young squire had ventured a jest. It seemed that Goreg had done what most people could not: render Prehil speechless.

Inside, they find Orsin Firth sitting in the same place Goreg left him.

“Prehil!”

“Father!”

“Dead? Kidnapped” And now with these people?”

“All but the dead part, all of it true.” Prehil begins to give an explanation of sorts. “I was at Galopea’s Feast meeting with constituents and while I was there I was asked to help with an altercation amidst the upper floor. While there I was knocked out and carried from the establishment. They must’ve knocked my head as it aches. I was able to piece together what happened with the help of Ewen and Aeomund. You will hear that Baris somehow lost his clothes in the scuffle …”

Throughout Prehil’s explanation, Ewen looks at the ceiling.

“… and you have heard the rumors abound, and well to shorten the story – Aeomund and Baris rescued me and when I heard you were here I rushed home.”

Orsin looks at Prehil and then turns his head and looks at Ewen, “Is this what happened?”

“That is approximately my understanding of it, I would only add my people found him under the guard of people known to work for Maldan Harabor.”

“Let me get this straight. Prehil, for reasons better left unspoken, with Baris and Goreg accompanying him, managed to get kidnapped for some period of time. Naturally the story was he was killed. Then you rescued my heir from the clutches of the Earl of Osel. Why would he do this?”

“My understanding he has his son with an army at Heru. He had taken possession of the scion of Dariune.”

“I notice the past tense.”

“We delivered him to his father this morning … We have been busy.” Ewen says in his deadpan manner.

“So has Harabor. Ewen, my house is in your debt and we will make appropriate restitution soon. Now I need to talk to my son. Prehil, upstairs.”

I should really say hello to my wife first,” Prehil says, attempting to delay the inevitable.

“Don’t you talk to her.”

“My Lord if I may,” Ewen interrupts, “Prehil and I discussed not immediately making his rescue known.”

“Too late now my men saw him and they will slip up, no matter how disciplined they are. We will not advertise it; I will send word for you.”

Ewen and company bow and the guards walk them out. As they’re leaving Ewen asks one, “I understand there was a noise in front of Osel House this morning.”

The guard replies, “It’s my understanding some Balims went by to expresses admiration for those Osel boys, but we didn’t get involved.”

Cekiya had been wandering outside watching the guards. She recognizes their type, long service professionals, relaxed but ready for anything. She also does a more accurate count of the number of troops: closer to 60 than the 40 previously thought.


Baris, having had a few ales and a second breakfast, wanders around Raven Hall looking for someone to talk to. He hears sounds inside Thilisa’s room and goes inside to investigate. He finds Prehil’s two pillows looking bored and Baris spends the afternoon entertaining them.


After Aeomund returned back to Raven Hall, Kaelyn attempts to reverse her spell. Having studied the problem, she makes one practice run. She deems herself ready and begins. She mostly succeeds but Aeomund’s beard is now a bright shade of red. Regarding Aeomund she says, “You may want to shave …”


Ewen, returning home takes a moment just inside the front door, to listen for sounds of the house and realizes it’s too quiet. Aeomund comes downstairs.

“It’s good to see you. I never know what to expect with you these days.” Ewen says, amused.

“I am never doing that again.”

As Aeomund reaches the bottom step there’s a knock on the door.

As Ewen is standing next to the door, he opens his own door. There are four soldiers wearing Balim livery standing there.

“Good afternoon. We’ve a message for Sir Ewen Ravinargh.”

“It is I,” Ewen says and he is handed a note. He hands it to Aeomund to read. After breaking the seal, Aeomund does a quick scan and informs Ewen that the party has been invited to Balim House for dinner.

Ewen looks the soldiers and tells them to tell Lord Balim that they accept.

The soldiers turn and walk down the street and they hesitate a moment, perhaps thinking of passing by Osel house but make the correct turn and go home instead. Ewen decides that before his dinner with Balim he should go talk to Sir Rohn. He and Aeomund leave to go to the College of Heralds. Walking through town, Ewen takes note of many more men armed in the city than normal. He sees the livery of several nobles including Nenda, Nubeth, and Delwarne.

At the College of Heralds, Sir Rohn greets them. “Sirs Ewen and Aeomund it’s been far too long and I daresay …” Rohn trails off as he sees Aeomund’s beard.

Ewen saves Aeomund the explanation by thanking Rohn for his time.

“Yes, I’m fine, have a seat. I’m quite curious to the reason for your visit, and a bit worried that noble trees may need updating.”

Ewen laughs, “I need you to explain the niceties of protocol to me.”

“You are normally seeking information on bloodlines in matters of political stances. How unusual, I am all ears.”

“It is my understanding from time to time his Grace calls a council of tenants-in-chief.”

“Yes,” Rohn chuckles, “but I doubt you would be on the council. It’s normally only those with titles.”

“Yes, but I would still like an explanation of how the process and summons works.”

“It’s an intriguing question.” Rohn composes himself, “Naturally you’re just asking to further your knowledge.”

“I confess I am a curious man.”

“I thought that from the time I have known you.

“Should he seek to call a council of peers – the major barons – which is called the Privy Council when combined with the great officers of state, a writ of summons is issued naming the holding in question and the date, time, and place to appear. It is only valid and legal if sealed with the Great Seal. If the King is on the march then the privy seal is attached first and in the Great Seal is attached once it reaches Tashal.

“Yes it’s interesting. Let’s talk this through: you would not normally be summoned, for while you are a tenant-in-chief of the King, you not a great tenant-in-chief. This is typically only the earls, the barons holding of the crown, and the Laranian Archbishop. So if you were summoned it would be as the Lord of Varayne, the name of your major holding. You would be able to send a deputy if you could not attend in person.

“For example the Earl of Neph could deputize his son to attend his name. You need to understand the part of the summons and wording of the nature of attendance could change the terms of one’s status. For example had Meden Curo had been summoned himself, his status would change to that of earl instead of that of the deputy of the Earl of Neph. The writ of summons is legally binding of rank. They’re careful not to do that as it confuses issues.”

“The explanation is clear. Thanks for your time. This may be of interest to you. We happened this morning to witness the reunion of Sir Prehil with his father.”

Rohn smiles, “It surprises me not that you are privy to such news. I am glad, for Prehil is a good fellow.”


Back at Raven Hall, Baris hears a lot of noise coming from Maranos way towards the direction of Osel house. At the same time, Ewen and Aeomund near the source of the sound and see a small battle has broken out.

Ewen turns to Aeomund says, “Let’s find what this is about.”

They get to Lady Cheselyne’s and notice one of her servants peeking around the gate.

“Around the corner, my Lord, there is violence in the street as major houses are at each other’s throats.”

“Then secure her Ladyship’s grounds.”

The servant responds that they do not have the manpower to do so.

“Raven Hall will stand by the lady need if needed.”

The servant runs off to tell Lady Cheselyne.

Aeomund looks to Ewen, “Should we break it up or let it go?”

Ewen watches and says evenly, “Let it go.”

At this point Baris, with two more men at arms and Goreg, comes to where they wait.

“Know what colors are to be slain?” Baris asks excitedly.

“None, but stand ready.”

A voice bellow from inside, “Withdraw you whoresons! In the name of the Earl of Osel! So I command you men of Osel to stand back!”

The men reluctantly do so. On the ground three men of Osel and two of Balim lay dead or wounded. Into the melee rides Maldan Harabor. He surveys the street and sees Ewen. He knows that, while Ewen was not involved in the fighting, he has witnessed the scuffle. He nods to him and makes the comment, “There goes the neighborhood.”

Ewen sketches a half bow and turns with his men to Raven Hall. He passes Lady Cheselyne’s house and tells the two men at arms that came with Baris to keep a man posted, as he promised aid to the lady.


Upon return to Raven Hall they find another message has been delivered. This time from Firith, inviting them to dinner. Ewen sends his regrets begging a previous engagement with Balim and asks if he could do late drinks instead. Goreg and the other squires go to deliver the message. They return with the acceptance from Orsin for a meeting for drinks later.


That evening all attend on Balim House. They dress, for those that have them, in this season’s colors. For those that have leathers, they put those under their fancy attire. Baris wants to wear his boar helmet, but Ewen says no. Baris, looking at Aeomund’s bright red beard, turns to Kaelyn and asked if she could make his face into boar’s head literally but not forever just and not for tonight but sometime. Kaelyn looks horrified and says no and walks away. Baris wonders if he could get Sir Rohn to redesign the crest of his arms. After all, he is a landed knight now …

Ewen looks at Baris with a stern look and tells him to be on his best behavior.

Kaelyn puts it in simpler terms, “Don’t. Say. Anything.”


The gates to Balim House stand open. There are three guards outside and more immediately inside the compound. Aeomund believes this is a tactic to show contempt for the enemy, also that it’s a good tactic to let the enemy in and then lock the doors behind them to kill them.

The party is expected, recognized, and escorted into the great hall. There the Earl stands with Sirs Fago and Scina. Lady Donesyn and Lady Serli are also in attendance along with a few others of lesser note.

Ewen and party are welcomed in and Balim directs Ewen to seat the honor and the rest of the group to the table immediately in front of him. Balim makes a speech, a long winded and full of hyperbole, all around rubbish and propaganda about honor. At one point during the speech, Aeomund glances up and notices soldiers on the balcony overlooking and listening.

As the Earl winds down on his opening monologue, he gets to the matter at hand, “Sirs Ewen, Aeomund, Baris, as well as others present who will be named, with great personal risk returned my son to me. I wish to show gratitude for these deeds. Ewen, forgive me. It’s a lord’s privilege to dispense largesse and rewards but, I hope I’m not stepping on your toes. Please indulge me. Scina and I insist something more tangible to be done.

At this point the Lady Donesyn pipes up, “Not just Scina.”

The Earl continues, “I have something for you Ewen, as we discussed previously, but I have something a bit more tangible for the others.”

“That is most generous of you, thank you.”

The Earl nods and Sir Fago stands, holding a chest, near Balim.

“Sir Baris, It is my understanding that you are trying to woo a lady of worth. I have a bit of cloth from the continent with a pleasing pattern.” The Earl takes from Fago a bundle of silk with a pattern of gold and teal.

“My deepest thanks, my Lord.” Baris says, taking the bundle.

“Aeomund, a knight of the order of the Lady of Paladins is beyond material goods and fancy finery. You are also a dutiful son. I thought one reward would be to be put your mind at ease and know your family to be secure. I have a document that is the lease at the house in Eastside where your parents currently reside. I am waiving the nominal fee of rent and will extend the lease under these terms until the generation of your parent’s grandchildren. This will stand as long as one grandchild resides in the domicile.

“It is a great relief and peace of mind. This is a most generous offer”.

The Earl continues, “Squire Goreg,” Balim hands him a leather bound tome, “A copy of The Song of the Chase, the art of the hunt, as any squire or lord should read. This version, from the city of Shiran, is for your entertainment, edification, and education.”

Goreg bows deeply, “I thank you my Lord.”

Earl to Cekiya, “I need to know your name before we begin my dear.”

Cekiya gives her name. No, really.

“It is my understanding that you were instrumental in distracting the guards, uh, permanently, from my son’s cell. Such endeavors convey the sort skills where injuries best avoided are customary.”

He hands her a small casket, “Within this is a very rare preparation of Tirrala’s Pillow. As I understand it, should a deeply injured person consume the entire cake it will introduce a deep healing sleep. The person that awakes will be most hungry but near fully healed. I thought this might come in handy.”

“Thank you for the gift.”

Sir Fago sits down. Lady Donesyn stands up and hands a box to the Earl of Balim.

“Kaelyn of Aletta, our understanding is you were instrumental in effecting the release of my son in an unusual way that is best left unspoken. Nevertheless, my sister has given her personal possession as your award.” The Earl opens the box and inside is a gold chain necklace with a large oval red spinel polished along the neck with five more, half the size, and one in the back, presumably for some counterweight, encased in a gold chamber.”

“Thank you my Lord,” and Kaelyn turns to the lady. “And thank you my lady.”

“Let’s put it on,” Donesyn says and helps Kaelyn fasten the clasp.

Ewen rises again, “My Lord on behalf of my retinue, thank you for your generosity and your indeed handsome gifts.”

Food arrives and conversation begins among those seated at the tables. Balim and Ewen talk about the scuffle that occurred in front of Osel House. The Earl mentions that some soldiers felt the need to take matters into their own hands. He looks up at the men along the balcony, but does not appear to be angry.

Ewen agrees, “Yes there are so many men at arms in town. Frictions and incidents will flare-up in the taverns. The Earl mentions that the innkeepers are making out quite well but they are more concerned with their counting houses and not with the field of honor.

As the Earl spends upon this, Aeomund thinks something is different about the Earl. He normally concerns himself with what is honorable but not to this extent.

As dinner and conversation dies down, the Earl turns to Ewen and says, “This brings me to you and your reward.” He pulls out a document triple sealed – one hanging red wax disc showing an acorn slipped and leaved – two others with red ribbons – a castle and a mounted knight – the great and the privy seals.

Ewen takes a document.

“I think you remember what we discussed. Ewen, noon tomorrow.”

Ewen smiles, “I can’t imagine anything interfering,” Ewen puts the document away.

The evening passes. As they are leaving Balim mentions to Ewen, “As I vote, you vote.”


The party leaves and heads back to Raven Hall with the intention of dropping off and inspecting their gifts before the knights go to see the Firiths.


Once inside the door, Ewen wastes little time in opening the sealed document.

This is a writ of summons by Haldan III, King of Kaldor by right of inheritance and lawful succession etc. etc. whereby in council order our peers to assemble and attend on 20 Azura, 732 to treat and conference with other great men. We command you personally present to attend and give counsel on affairs in Caer Elend. Herein we summon the trusty and right worthy Baron of Ternua. Given this day; 10 Azura 732 in the 11th year of our reign.

It is immediately apparent that Ewen’s name is not on it.

Ewen thinks to take document with him before they go to Firith. Once again, Ewen tells Baris to be quiet. Before they can leave there’s a pounding at the door.

Walin looks at Ewen and says, “I know that knock.” Walin and opens the door and in comes Prehil, his father, and Meden Curo.

Ewen gestures them in. Following the three men are 12 men at arms, including Sir Dregald. There are six for Firith and six for Curo.

Meden looks at Ewen, “We regret that we must impose upon your hospitality in this fashion.”

“Not at all. I trust things are fine in your homes.”

“Merely being prudent. May we leave the men down here while we retire to a more private area?”

Ewen nods, and indicates for the three men and Aeomund to follow him. He asks Walin to send libations and a few small plates upstairs and set something out for the men downstairs. Ewen points to Baris to stay downstairs keep an eye on the boys in the hall.

“There’s a solar on the third floor but I find it cold and depressing. I hope this will be better.” Ewen leads the men into his study and pulls out a hidden stash of the good brandy. He gives toast that the Kingdom of Kaldor may move beyond present troubles and to the prosperity of peace.

Meden turns to Orsin, “With your permission?”

Orsin nods and Meden continues, “Ewen, there is to be a council of the tenants-in-chief of the Crown. It happens that the council is tomorrow.” Meden reaches inside his doublet and produces a document with two large seals hanging off the ends and one large seal sealing the document. “We would like you to attend and form with us a block of three votes.”

Aeomund stops drinking mid sip, eyes moving from the document, to Ewen, then to the document, and then back to Ewen.

Ewen looks at it and says, “Sir Meden I have already received a summons.”

Meden looks nonplussed. “Oh really, Sir Ewen is indeed special. No one else has received two.”

Ewen takes the document from Meden’s hand, “Orsin with your leave,” and Ewen breaks the seal.

It is almost identical wording of the other except this names the holder of the writ as Sir Ewen, Lord of Ternua and not baron and the date is the 17th of Azura. “Meden mentions a block of votes.” Ewen looks to Orsin, “What should we anticipate?”

“It is not clear; Balim has called this meeting. He’s up to something. It may be we approve. But one thing is going to happen: we all know the King is incapacitated, so Balim is going to call for a regency. This is the time to look to the defense of the kingdom, and Meden has suggested a price for my support, the office of Lord Marshal and command of all armies of the King.”

Aeomund knocks on the table, “Hear, hear!”

There is no better man for the job.” Ewen says, “Whom else would Balim put forth, Sir Scina?”

“Scina?” Orsin scoffs, “I am thankful for that, but some say that it would be too much power. But it is no use asking a third for one who controls two of the four major offices. I merely ask for my due.

“Who else will vote your way?”

“I believe we have support of Getha, Nenda, and two others I think will lean our way with appropriate arguments.” Orsin says.

Meden speaks in a low and silky voice, “The Archbishop will support us.”

“Who will be proposing the Lord Marshal office? May I do so?”

Orsin shrugs, “If you feel that is appropriate, I will not stand in your way. Here is the thing, the Earl of Balim’s motives are unknown. He may call for support of himself as regent or not. If it isn’t a vote for him, Meden will be voting first, then me and you last. We shall vote as Meden votes. We’ve discussed this at length and worked through possibilities. Meden will call for a recess if something unexpected pops up. This is acceptable?”

“And if the Earl of Balim proposes yourself as regent.”

“That is the only thing we can think of agreeing to in advance.”

“You have my support.”

“I would hear your thoughts on it” Orsin says and Meden leans forward ever so slightly.

“I think in many ways the Earl of Balim already functions as a regent, in a de facto sense. It seems to me, in terms of pragmatics, little would change. Support would allay concerns for a short term and would allow us to continue plans without rocking the boat too early.”

Meden’s lips curled slightly in almost a half-smile as he looks to Orsin.

“All that is true,” Orsin says, “Especially the part of him already doing so. That is why we would propose the Queen instead.”

“I do not object to the Queen taking that role. But be aware that the Queen as regent may push in a direction we may not care to go”

“This as I said,” Meden nods to Orsin, Ewen echoes me. The Queen pushes direction we do not care for. Let Balim be regent of a kingdom in need of king.

Orsin gives Meden a distasteful look before throwing up his hands, “Fine, I accede to your wishes. It is two against one.”


Downstairs the twelve men at arms are enjoying the pork sausage and ale that Walin had brought out. Baris and the squires mingle amongst the men the best they can, as there is no mixing of either camp. Baris finds this an opportune time to speak with Sir Dregald.

“Sir Dregald, it is good to see you.”

“Sir Baris, aren’t you the one that insulted my lord and his father the Earl and then tried to apologize with a bird?”

“Ummm,” Baris says thinking fast, “To my shame, I did. Your lord, in his acceptance of my apology, his patience and grace, has allowed me to grow, such as the fledging bird, to be a mighty asset to this kingdom.”

“Flowery words.”

Baris believing that he said the right things continues, “I hear you returned from Orbaal recently. I almost went there once. Sadly, I fell ill as the troops moved out from Golotha. Can you speak of it?”

“Golotha? It is a city.” Dregald says, knowing what the other knight is asking, but choosing not be of help. A knight does not have to make nice for the sake of politics, like a son of an earl does.

“No, I meant Orbaal. What was it like?

“It was cold.”

“Well it is in the north. I hear winter lasts longer up there for some reason. What are the Vikings like? I have fought them but never seen how they live.”

“They have two arms, two legs, and a head. They live much like you and well … you.”

“What was their food like? Was it strange? Did they have good pork sausage?” Baris asks as he spears another from the platter.

“Food is merely food. It fuels the body.”

“Would you like more ale? Prehil and I sample this batch frequently. He is a fine knight.”

“Sir Prehil Firith is a fine knight.” Dregald turns to his men, “What say you men? Is Sir Prehil a fine knight?”

Curo’s men all go “Aye, aye, aye!” The men of Firith cheer in response as well.

“We are surrounded by fine knights. You and I.” Baris says before launching into the story of how he, in the company of the fine knight, Sir Ewen, participated in the Siege of Olokand. Telling the tale of the arm he had in his belt, and the lightening that seem to come from nowhere. All the men and the squires are listening. Apparently Baris can tell a good war story. He then starts to talk about the tournament and loses a few listeners as describing endless runs at lists takes a master story teller to keep all interested. Baris then turns to Dregald, “Have you any stories of the interesting places you may have been?”

“No.”


Azura 20, 732

Fine flakes of snow fall in the morning and all is quiet over breakfast before they head over to the castle. The party leaves about 10:30, and on the way see their fellows and their retinues. The party approaches the gate and are asked their business by the guards.

Ewen announces that he is responding to a writ of summons from his Grace the King.

The guards look at the list. One looks up and says, “Ternua. My Lord, please enter.”

They pass into the keep without trouble from the main gate to the base of the stairs and they see Sir Harapa Indama.

“Sir Ewen what are you doing here?”

“I am responding to a summons by the King. I bid you good day Sir Harapa.”

“Do you indeed? Forgive me, I do not know of this. Do you happen to bear authority?”

“I do.” Ewen hands over the writ of summons, the one with his name on it as Lord Ewen of Ternua.

Harapa reads it, looks at Ewen, reads it again, and takes a deep breath, and looks back at Ewen “How did you manage this?”

Ewen smiles, “I’m a busy man Sir Harapa.”

“Indeed you are my Lord,” and he hands back the document to Ewen.

Ewen turns to walk away but Harapa stops him, “My Lord, the chamber is on the second floor. The guards will see you there.”

Sir Harapa directs the rest of the party to the chamber for the retainers at the far end of the hall. Aeomund asks if he may have access to the chapel and is told not at this time.

The party waits in the throne room and mill about with the retainers is from Balim, Curo, Osel, Firith, Nenda, Nubeth, and the Archbishop. No one was asked to disarm but were enjoined to keep the King’s peace.


Ewen walks past the throne room down to the corner and up the tower to a small council chamber, the same one where he was made Lord of Varayne. In the room he sees Meden Curo, Arlbis Hirnan, and Gorbar Eloriath.

Arlbis walks over to Ewen, “Sir Ewen I am surprised to see you here.”

“I trust you have been well.”

“Yes, but you’ve not answered my question.”

“I guess you are surprised,” Ewen says with a smile.

Arlbis smiles himself says “Yes. Technically that was not a question, right?”

Ewen takes pity and says, “I am here as holder of Ternua.”

“Didn’t you just hold a tournament a month ago?”

“I’ve been a busy man.”

“And you were also at Minarsas?” Gorbar says, joining the duo.

“I remember.”

“Indeed, didn’t you kidnap and marry Thilisa?”

“Actually Lindar Bastune kidnapped her. But I did marry her.”

Meden speaks up crossing across the room toward them, “The Bastunes are disruptive a lot.”

Gorbar looks at Ewen, “We are all here as heirs and deputies. Sir Ewen what are you?”

“This writ says I am the holder of Ternua”, Ewen holds up one the document, “and this one says I am the Baron of Ternua.”

“That is highly irregular,” Gorbar says.

Meden chuckles, “A writ is a writ and it doesn’t matter what it actually says.”

Arlbis looks quizzically as Meden takes a seat, sure that can’t be so. Not long after the others enter it is almost a full council. Balim takes a seat immediately to the right of the head chair. The Archbishop sits at the foot of the table. Orsin is in the middle of the table opposite Ewen.

Sir Harapa Indama enters the room and announces that Osel has just entered the courtyard.

“And?” Balim asks.

“When she is ready.”

Soon Harabor strides into the room, “Well, let’s get this done.” He spots Ewen. “What’s he doing here?!”

Balim, Firith, and Harapa all answer at the same time “He has a writ of summons.”

Osel looks at Ewen and mutters loud enough to be heard by all, “I should have killed you years ago.” He sits down.

Conveniently, before anyone can say anything to Harabor’s statement, there is a rap at the door. Harapa opens the door and bows, “My lords, her Grace, the Queen.”

The men all stand as Queen Hesena sweeps in, goes to the far end, and takes the head chair. There are some unhappy faces at her Grace’s choice of seat.

Balim turns to Harapa, “Any word on Vemion?”

“None, but it is to be expected the Earl will not attend.”

“Let us then commence.”

“My lord of Balim by what right do you assume leadership of this council?” Queen Hesena asks.

“By right of royal office; I am the Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Lord Chancellor could preside if preferred but he does not have a vote.”

“You preside, Chancellor of the Exchequer.”

“Sir Harapa, please call the roll.” Balim says.

“In this council of tenants-in-chief of Kaldor in the name of the King, the 20th of Azura, 732. Who speaks for the peers of the kingdom? The Earl of Balim?”

Troda Dariune says, “I do.”

“The Earl of Neph?” Meden Curo – “By the right of my father, I have been named deputy.”

“The Earl of Osel?” – Malden Harabor “I do.”

“The Earl of Vemion?” Harapa looks around, “Absent.”

“The Earl of Olokand?”

“I do.” The Queen says in a clear voice.

“The Serekela of Kaldor?” “I do,” responds Edine Kynn.

“The Baron of Ternua?” – “I do,” Ewen says with no hesitation.

“Baron of Getha?” Harapa Indama pauses a moment before answering himself “I do.”

“Baron of Kobe?” Orsin Firth – “I am.”

“Baron of Nenda?” Arlbis nods and says “I do.”

“Baron of Nubeth?” – Gorbar says “I do.”

“I call the council to order and all of you present so sworn to the King’s Grace.”

Ewen notices at the Queen had no reaction to his being named Baron of Ternua. He does notice that the Queen’s lip is trembling slightly, as if holding herself together by will though stressed.

Balim begins, “My lords and lady, we face a great crisis in the kingdom, our sovereign Lord King Haldan III is desperately ill, we can no longer deny it. You’ve seen the results, throughout our land.”

There are some glances at Harabor.

“The King will recover and live!” Balim pounds the table, “Until then it falls upon us to govern this kingdom as well as he would wish us to do so.”

Gorbar raises his hand, “My Lord of Balim why now? Why call us here?”

“In good time. The kingdom must be ordered.” Balim turns to Orsin, “My Lord of Firith.”

Orsin looks taken by surprise but he stands, “My lords and lady, we have seen an invasion of this kingdom –Vikings – despoilers of northern manors and nearly seizing a principal castle of the kingdom. We require leadership, I shall stand for that leadership – not against, but for the King. But Kaldor needs help”

Meden speaks as Orsin begins to falter, “You will forgive me your Grace,” he nods to the Queen, “There is more to this matter than an ailing king and an invasion of barbarians. There is the matter of fratricide. We cannot ignore that factor.”

Balim bangs on the table, “That is not an issue at hand.”

“It is. It is part of the governance of this kingdom.”

The Queen looks at Meden, “I would like to eject you from this council.”

“Your Grace, if I’m not mistaken you are here as of Olokand. You have no more rights here than I do.”

“I can call my guards.”

“If you split this council you will split this kingdom. Mind your place Madam.”

Ewen glances around the table to see the faces as Meden and the Queen spar; Orsin looks uncomfortable Balim looks gravely distressed, and Osel just laughs.

Osel looks to the Queen, “Forgive Meden and his boorish manners. Yet he does have a point: you are the Queen but today you do but play the part of an earl. My lords this is the matter: the King is too ill to rule at this time.”

“My Lord!” The Queen exclaims.

“My Lady, we have discussed this. Council needs to hear this,” said Balim gently. “Lords, we require a regency. I do not take or suggest this action lightly. Under ordinary circumstances, the crown prince would be regent failing that, the other of the King’s children, but this is not possible and leaves us very few choices.”

Osel speaks, “There are some.”

“I do not present myself as a candidate for regent. I realize I am a polarizing figure and we need unity. Neither do I have a choice for regent in mind. I would open the Council for suggestions.”

The Queen spoke first. “My lords I do not expect you to deliver the reins of government into my hands. I do beg of you to think of the kingdom. My husband is ill, but will recover. These trials and tribulations will pass. Do not take the crown from your King so lightly.”

There is a moment of silence and Ewen glances around the table and Harabor appears to be thinking of speaking, Meden looks like he is eaten a canary, and Orsin appears perturbed.


The Archbishop speaks, “My lords, a terrible moment has come to pass, that our beloved Kaldor has reached such a time. I beg you, I implore you to make a decision speedily and well. I say, I say, our beloved King, may he long reign and quickly recover, be represented by his long standing helpmate, the Queen … who has most recently embraced the Laranian faith.”

“There are those who might have other candidates in mind, but the Queen is an obvious choice. We may vote,” interjects Balim.

Harapa begins to speak but Ewen beats him to it, “By your leave,” he nods to Balim, who merely glares. “Mine is a new voice at a table such as this, and I do hold the Queen in the highest esteem. As Lord Balim mentioned this is a perilous time, and a military matter must be presented. I offer Orsin Firith as a man who would fill the role as marshal of the kingdom and that we need such a man upon whom we can rest the military matters and the perils before us.”

Balim looks at Ewen, “My Lord Ternua speaks well, but is premature. No one holds any greater regard to Lord Firith and his military prowess. But the regent will have to appoint him. The motion before the council is the regency and not anything else. On the motion for regent of this kingdom, I propose queen Hesena as regent. I as senior Earl vote ‘yea’.”

The voting begins. Meden votes nay, the Queen votes yea, Osel and the Archbishop vote nay, Harapa votes yea. Firith, nay. Nenda, yea and Nubeth, nay.

During the voting Ewen attempts to read the room, but the whole room seems to warble. It all comes to Ewen’s vote, as he will either tie for further discussion or remove the Queen from the regency. Ewen begins to speak again, “All due respect I disagree with Lord Balim’s contention that the Lord Marshal is not pertinent I would like to hear the matter discussed. I vote yea, and now we are tied.”

The reactions to Ewen’s announcement are mixed – Balim wants to look happy but is not, the Queen is confused as is Harapa. Orsin looks at Ewen in wonderment with an expression of ‘of what hell they have unleashed?’ Meden still look like he got canary. Gorbar and Arlbis looked very confused as to why they’re even here. The Archbishop appears to have to come to the conclusion that it is time for Ewen to be killed.

Balim “A tie is a problem. It is a shame that Vemion is not present.”

Meden smiles a not nice smile, “There is a solution to that.”

“What?”

“The nearest male relative of the Earl of Vemion is present.”

Before Meden can even finish the sentence there is a chorus of “No! No! No! The Earl must designate a deputy.”

Meden says, “We do require the vote more than the absent Earl requires the right to deputize.”

Balim calls for a quick vote on Meden’s proposal, but unsurprisingly Meden is the only one in favor of it.

“With your leave your Grace and my lords, the kingdom deserves a firm hand in domestic administration and the military, a King can do that. In the case of a regency, the Lord Marshal is the balancing hand. I propose the Queen as regent and Lord Firith as Lord Marshal,” Ewen tries again.

Balim takes a deep breath and says, “I declare a recess. This room must be cleared.”

All leave and going to the hall. Meden comes over to Ewen.

“You play a deep game. Does this change things?” Ewen says.

“No, everything is done and is calculated. Politics is a game of chess and you must predict the positions on the board. You are almost a natural. Good job.”

“I enjoyed the challenge. Now the second act is ahead and the pieces are developing.”

“Some have moved twice, always a bad thing. What are you thinking of I wonder? You are an uncontrolled element.”

“There is a discord of people at the table, the key is taking advantage of it.”

Meden says, “It is important that we leave here without a regent. Nothing else matters. Do you understand why?”

Ewen looks at Meden and says, “Power.”

Meden says, “To be king.”

“As discussed earlier, Lord Balim wields the reins.”

“The exception would be if Firith comes out as regent, but I don’t see that happening.”

“Not all the present, and not all have developed.”

“That is only scenario I see that benefits all. Perhaps the way is to become Marshal and that will lead to an easier path to becoming regent.”

“I’m proposing the vote be connected, Balim will interrupt.”

“It was a nice try,” Meden says, “He will not allow the votes to be connected, and will not let it stand unchallenged.”

“Perhaps. Shouldn’t you be influencing someone instead of talking to me?”

“Yes, perhaps I should.”

Ewen bows stiffly and walks away. Arlbis comes over to Ewen.

“Sir Ewen, I would that we were at the tournament and you were hanging my man.”

“It was a simpler time.”

“I am here at the request of my father. He is back at Nenda and asked me to stand in his seat. I confess that I have imagined myself as baron. After today I would rather retire to a small thatched hut in a lowly village. It is a great matter to be a great noble. The peasants envy us yet their’s is the life to be envied. They have no cares compared to us.”

“Yes, yes, they lay heads up on pillows and lie as a king. We are military men.” Ewen points at the table, “The King can serve as marshal but a regent cannot. We need a steady hand.”

“Yes you are correct. When the kingdom was invaded, I almost can’t say it, his Grace f-f-f-f-failed us,” Arlbis stutters. “Sir Ewen do you believe Lord Firith is the man to defend the kingdom?”

“His Grace did choose him to lead the army against the cowardly ravel of Vikings that struck at our kingdom.”

Sir Arlbis bites his lip in thought. “I shall support Lord Firith as Marshal as you are.”

“It is best for the kingdom. Around the table talk is complicated but some things are easy.”

At that moment Harapa calls everyone back. As they are walking back Ewen turns to Arlbis and says “Why don’t you bring the matter up. I fear they will not listen to me.

“I will, you make a valid point.”


Balim begins to speak “I would like to say …”

Arlbis interrupts, “I would like to make a motion.”

Balim sits back surprised that Arlbis would speak and gives a nod.

“I have been thinking about everything said earlier and it seems to me the most important thing is the defense of the kingdom, seems far more important than regent is to be Lord Marshal. My lords and lady the only choice is Lord Firith.”

Balim says, “I suppose we must allow for this eventually. Let us vote and see it off one way or another. This proposal has been made to make Lord Firith Lord Marshal. I vote ‘nay.’ Forgive me Orsin.”

The vote come around again to Ewen and it is in his hands to tie the votes, by voting with Balim, or to make Lord Firith the Marshal. Ewen votes ‘yea’ and Orsin Firith is made Lord Marshal of the kingdom.

“Cousin, the great office has been thrust upon you. I know you will acquit yourself well. Now back to the original matter, the regency.”

“No, my lord.” Meden says, “This council must deliberate further. I move for an adjournment. Now. I call for a vote.”

Balim again calls for a vote, with his the first cast as nay. This time when the voting comes to Ewen the tally is two nays and six yeas. His vote would make no difference in the outcome, but true to his word, he votes with Balim and votes nay.

The yeas carry the vote and the meeting is adjourned until tomorrow.
User avatar
Matt
The GM
 
Posts: 2556
Joined: Thu Sep 16, 2004 3:38 pm
Location: Weymouth, MA

Return to The Melderyn Chronicle

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 4 guests

cron