Birthright: Tuornen, Chapter Ten

[ewancummins]

RENN


Word of Carilon's imprisonment leaked into the city yesterday around noontide, and Renn's watchmen have had their hands full dealing with drunken mobs of revelers for much of the last two days. A gaggle of tradesmen and tavern bullies have loudly called for the enemy Duke's head on a pike, and demonstrated in the Fish Market near Caer Haes and the River Gate.
Sergeant Gilly reports holy symbols of Cuiraecen on display among that crowd.


But by even-fall the the city seems to be more or less under control, with no reports of riots, looting, or gang fights and the demonstrators having dispersed from the Fish Market.
Renn finds himself free from his duties for the nonce...

[ewancummins]

GUNNAR


Gunnar has spent a lot of time in Caer Haes the last couple of days, keeping an eye on Duke Carilon.
But he does have another set of duties, service to his sworn master Sir Ranald and to Lady Beatrix, Renn's young sister. He's supposed to be protecting the noble girl. Sir Ranald has sent word that the young lady wishes to see her protector once again.

Tonight Gunnar has been replaced as a door guard by a set of six armed men and a priest of Haelyn; the priest wears mail under a red surcoat and carries a short sword at his hip.

On his way out the hall, he sees Warden Roald Flaertes enter the apartment where Duke Carilon is being held.

[Varrus the Ethical]

Roald, Haes.

Roald nods to Gunnar when he spots him just before he enters the Caestellan's chambers.

ROALD, MEETING WITH CARILON
"I expected you rather sooner, Lord Warden, but then I suppose you have been very busy enjoying the plaudits of your peers and fighting off marriage proposals. Hmmm, or could it be that not a single high noble lord or lady of Tuornen has yet congratulated Duke Gilgaed's eldest son on capturing his father's greatest enemy?"

Roald smiles coolly. "Actually, Your Grace, your daughter was the first high lady to send me a letter. It was quite lovely." He places a hand over his heart. "Her concern for your welfare is rather heartwarming."

[VAN]

Filbert doesn't turn to look at Atli, he just makes a small nod and immediately orders a mug of ale and says at the maid:

"Keep them coming, we are rather thirsty."

Then he pats his left pocket where his purse is. The halfling knows that was of no use lying to Atli about his money since he could easily get the money himself or follow him outside and force to give him the purse. At least he has spend some money already and the dwarf will not take a huge amount of the Duke's money.

When the ale came, the halfling raises his mug and makes a toast:

"To us, His Grace and to whoever men he has in Car Haes."

The halfilg is sure that Atli will get that he isn't talking about Devlin but about Carillon and hopes the dwarf will tell him if are men in Car Haes making a conspiracy or trying to save the Duke.

[Adam]

CORMAC

"Well," Cormac says, finding a stump to sit down on. "I suppose I could tell ye' abou' the battle o' the broken bell. Assumin' you have'nae heard tha' one before."

He jumps into the story, emphasizing the tales of courage of he and his men facing down the horde of goblins down, culminating in the battle in the bell tower.

"An' I chased the bastard up to the roof," he chuckles, "Still don' know wha' I was thinkin'. Here's me, exhausted from a day o' fightin' and armed with not but a durned hand axe, dashin' up to face a massive hobgoblin warrior in an enclosed space. Well, way I saw it, there was no chance to kill the thing in a fair fight, so I buried my shoulder in the brute's guts an' threw him out the window, landin' on his horde as they were chargin' through the front door."

"An' as I watched him fall, the idea hit me," he shrugs, "Don' ask me where, cuz I ain't what ye call the mos' clever o' men, but I knew wha' to do. I called my men an' the monks up to the roof, an' we waited until just as the gobs broke in the front door an' cut the ropes holdin' up the signal bell in the top o' the tower, lettin' it fall an' crush the filthy blighters as they charged up the steps. Squashed 'em like bugs, an' ran the rest off. An' may I be struck dead if I'm lyin', but the sound o' tha' bell ringin' out over the valley started a land slide tha' crushed the goblins as they tried to retreat, smashin' em with Aeric's power an' savin' all the rest of us from a second attack."

[RocEter]

FOERDE, MEETING WITH HOTSPUR IN CAMP (day)


The cat-man finds the elf at the southern verge of the camp, sparring with a a couple soldiers, one against two. Braedonnal deftly disarms a man and shield-bashes the other onto his backside, leaping clear and laughing.
"Good show, men. I'm taking a break. You fellows have fun!"

The elf turns away from the sweaty, tired men and walks over to greet Foerde.
"Please tell me you are as bored as I am, and this is a unofficial visit to see if we can't stir up some trouble." He sheathes his blade and begins pulling the straps loose on his shield-arm.
" I hate sieges. Warfare should be fun; charges with banners flying, flashing blades, breaking lances, cracking skulls. Not mucking in the dirt like a lot of goblins."

Foerde, Meeting with Hotspur in camp (day)
Giving the elf a hearty laugh, the cat-man smiles wide showing his sharp teeth. "Glad to see somethings never change." He says.

"Now I may wear the symbol, hand out justice in the Storm Lord's name and on occasion preach but the only time I do anything official is when Fhylie stokes a fire under my arse." He says laughing again.

Foerde pulls his waterskin free of his belt and tosses it over to Braedonnel. "I won't try to council on warfare or the impact of rash decisions has on a unit as a whole." He says. "But if its trouble you wish stir, then I am your man."

Foerde grins widely again.

[JMaytr]

The two riders arrived last night and delivered their news to Duke Devlin.

Somehow, rumors of their role in the capture of Duke Carilon must have leaked out into the camp over the night, for in the morning all the Tuor soldiers and many of Fhylie's crusaders hail them as heroes. Fighting-men cheer wildly whenever the two so much as stick their heads outside their tent flap, and female camp followers of dubious virtue grab at the two men's bums rather than their coin-purses.

The weather today looks fine and clear, with a warm summery breeze coming up across the low green country to the south.

Morale in camp seems good, with the men at work improving their earthworks and stakes ( when they are not drinking bitters and celebrating the prowess of the heroes of the hour, Cormac and Foerde).



DEVLIN
Duke Devlin may chance to hear the soldiers digging, chopping wood, or carousing not far from his pavillion.
He has recieved a report from Count Robin about the local smallfolk, after the Count and his soldiers questioned as many as they could find. Count Robin has heard the peasants say that Baron Lynwerd was little more than a bandit, but they have little complaint against Duke Carilon. The local militia leaders are willing to keep out of the siege if Duke Devlin promises to leave their property and families alone.

Devlin-

Reading the news that Carilon Alam is a prisoner at Caer Haes, Devlin nearly jumps out of his skin. The gods are good he thinks as he summons Sir Lotho to his chamber.

"Summon Fhylie the Sword, Braedonnal, and Sir Robin at once. And deliver me the heroes that brought these letters to me."

[ewancummins]

ROALD


"My daughter's concern is only natural. I am her lord father, after all. Perhaps you think me an ogre, like Riegon?"
He shakes his gray head.
"I have sinned heartily and much to keep what is mine in this world, but I have not sinned against my own flesh."

He collects the cards from the table and shuffles them.

"Sit. Let's play a game and I'll tell you a story or two about our family, coz."

[ewancummins]

FOERDE, MEETING WITH HOTSPUR IN CAMP (day)


The cat-man finds the elf at the southern verge of the camp, sparring with a a couple soldiers, one against two. Braedonnal deftly disarms a man and shield-bashes the other onto his backside, leaping clear and laughing.
"Good show, men. I'm taking a break. You fellows have fun!"

The elf turns away from the sweaty, tired men and walks over to greet Foerde.
"Please tell me you are as bored as I am, and this is a unofficial visit to see if we can't stir up some trouble." He sheathes his blade and begins pulling the straps loose on his shield-arm.
" I hate sieges. Warfare should be fun; charges with banners flying, flashing blades, breaking lances, cracking skulls. Not mucking in the dirt like a lot of goblins."

Foerde, Meeting with Hotspur in camp (day)
Giving the elf a hearty laugh, the cat-man smiles wide showing his sharp teeth. "Glad to see somethings never change." He says.

"Now I may wear the symbol, hand out justice in the Storm Lord's name and on occasion preach but the only time I do anything official is when Fhylie stokes a fire under my arse." He says laughing again.

Foerde pulls his waterskin free of his belt and tosses it over to Braedonnel. "I won't try to council on warfare or the impact of rash decisions has on a unit as a whole." He says. "But if its trouble you wish stir, then I am your man."

Foerde grins widely again.

"I'll keep that in mind."


Hotspur hangs his shield over his back and walks on towards a nearby green tent. He pauses a moment and casts a wistful glance at the high, soot-smeared watchtower of Castle Sorentier, where the stonework rises above the hills a half mile to the north.

"Judhael Sorrelon. I don't suppose you ever met him in your younger days, when you were travelling under some other name. A good man, he was, and a friend of mine."

Reaching the tent flap, Braedonnal flips it open. Within, Foerde spies the glint of silver and blue crystal tableware set on a small folding platform that stands in the midst of the little tent.

"To see how his house has fallen in honor and fortune. Sad."

[Varrus the Ethical]

"Sit. Let's play a game and I'll tell you a story or two about our family, coz."

Roald takes a seat at the table across from Carlion.

"Is one of those stories about how you sent a toymaker to kill your cousin and his son? Because that's the story I'm most interested in."

[ewancummins]

CORMAC

"Well," Cormac says, finding a stump to sit down on. "I suppose I could tell ye' abou' the battle o' the broken bell. Assumin' you have'nae heard tha' one before."

He jumps into the story, emphasizing the tales of courage of he and his men facing down the horde of goblins down, culminating in the battle in the bell tower.

"An' I chased the bastard up to the roof," he chuckles, "Still don' know wha' I was thinkin'. Here's me, exhausted from a day o' fightin' and armed with not but a durned hand axe, dashin' up to face a massive hobgoblin warrior in an enclosed space. Well, way I saw it, there was no chance to kill the thing in a fair fight, so I buried my shoulder in the brute's guts an' threw him out the window, landin' on his horde as they were chargin' through the front door."

"An' as I watched him fall, the idea hit me," he shrugs, "Don' ask me where, cuz I ain't what ye call the mos' clever o' men, but I knew wha' to do. I called my men an' the monks up to the roof, an' we waited until just as the gobs broke in the front door an' cut the ropes holdin' up the signal bell in the top o' the tower, lettin' it fall an' crush the filthy blighters as they charged up the steps. Squashed 'em like bugs, an' ran the rest off. An' may I be struck dead if I'm lyin', but the sound o' tha' bell ringin' out over the valley started a land slide tha' crushed the goblins as they tried to retreat, smashin' em with Aeric's power an' savin' all the rest of us from a second attack."

The boy claps, as do most of the men. A busty woman blows Cormac a kiss.

Several of the folk ask questions about Aeric. They seem to have heard of the god before, but mostly as a figure of fairy tales and folk stories, not a god whom they would regularly worship.

Cormac may use this opportunity to enlighten them , at least somewhat.
Not long after he begins answering questions, a messenger arrives to tell him that he has been summoned to see the Duke.

[ewancummins]

INTERVIEW WITH DUKE CARILON

Roald takes a seat at the table across from Carlion.

"Is one of those stories about how you sent a toymaker to kill your cousin and his son? Because that's the story I'm most interested in."

"That madcap scheme of Riegon's--I found out too late to stop the assassins from striking. But of course I took advantage of the situation as it developed. You'd have done the same."

He frowns.

[ewancummins]

The two riders arrived last night and delivered their news to Duke Devlin.

Somehow, rumors of their role in the capture of Duke Carilon must have leaked out into the camp over the night, for in the morning all the Tuor soldiers and many of Fhylie's crusaders hail them as heroes. Fighting-men cheer wildly whenever the two so much as stick their heads outside their tent flap, and female camp followers of dubious virtue grab at the two men's bums rather than their coin-purses.

The weather today looks fine and clear, with a warm summery breeze coming up across the low green country to the south.

Morale in camp seems good, with the men at work improving their earthworks and stakes ( when they are not drinking bitters and celebrating the prowess of the heroes of the hour, Cormac and Foerde).



DEVLIN
Duke Devlin may chance to hear the soldiers digging, chopping wood, or carousing not far from his pavillion.
He has recieved a report from Count Robin about the local smallfolk, after the Count and his soldiers questioned as many as they could find. Count Robin has heard the peasants say that Baron Lynwerd was little more than a bandit, but they have little complaint against Duke Carilon. The local militia leaders are willing to keep out of the siege if Duke Devlin promises to leave their property and families alone.

Devlin-

Reading the news that Carilon Alam is a prisoner at Caer Haes, Devlin nearly jumps out of his skin. The gods are good he thinks as he summons Sir Lotho to his chamber.

"Summon Fhylie the Sword, Braedonnal, and Sir Robin at once. And deliver me the heroes that brought these letters to me."

Fhylie the Sword and Count Robin come almost immediately, as they were close by when the messenger went looking for them.

Count Robin dips his head in a respectful gesture and then moves to the right side of the pavillion. He yanks off his gauntlets and stuffs them in the pockets of his leather coat.
Wiping sweat from his weathered brow, he tells Devlin
"Good day, Your Grace. Any news from the south?"

Fhylie nods at Devlin, and then extends her open right hand in blessing.
"Strength and honor be yours."

[ewancummins]

FILBERT

IN THE TAVERN

Filbert doesn't turn to look at Atli, he just makes a small nod and immediately orders a mug of ale and says at the maid:

"Keep them coming, we are rather thirsty."

Then he pats his left pocket where his purse is. The halfling knows that was of no use lying to Atli about his money since he could easily get the money himself or follow him outside and force to give him the purse. At least he has spend some money already and the dwarf will not take a huge amount of the Duke's money.

When the ale came, the halfling raises his mug and makes a toast:

"To us, His Grace and to whoever men he has in Car Haes."

The halfilg is sure that Atli will get that he isn't talking about Devlin but about Carillon and hopes the dwarf will tell him if are men in Car Haes making a conspiracy or trying to save the Duke.

"Aye, to the rightful duke."
Atli drops a pinch of golden dust in his cup before drinking.

He gulps down his metallic-tinged ale.

"Yum."
Looking sideways at Filbert, the swart dwarf mumbles,
"I heard that you can ride a pony, just like a human boy. Maybe you'll find a little something worth buying at the horse fair being held just south of the city. Starts tomorrow. There will even be some fine Alamien steeds there, fit for for a lord to ride out of town."

[Varrus the Ethical]

INTERVIEW


Roald smirks. "Such an obvious lie is unbecoming of you, Your Grace. Your invasion happend the day of the assassination. There's no way you could've mobilized an army that fast if you were just taking advantage." He leans forward. "Unless, of course, your army was already waiting to attack, because you were in fact quite aware of the plot."