I Have A Few Things I Need To Say To You

She leaned on the doorframe for support as, even standing still, the wine made her sway like a willow in a gale, but her voice was clear, steady as it echoed into the darkness of the catacombs.

"I... I have a few things I need to say to you.

"I'm not sure what I expected, after we slew the Duenes. Peace, perhaps? I was a fool to think so. The only time I've ever known peace was with you. A surcease from the feeling that I will never truly belong here? Nay, if anything, that's worsened... almost as though avenging you was my last real reason to linger here. Vengeance gave me purpose, for a time. The notion of finding the shadowy enemies who plotted the downfall of our House... truly, that was a grand and glorious purpose, for a time." She let free a short, bitter bark of a laugh. "But the anticipation proved greater than the reality. They were nothing. They were weaklings, cowards, and their only real weapon was our naivety. You died for nothing more than petty greed. What a waste. What a fucking, gods-forsaken waste. You were born for greatness, every hair on your head, every word out of your mouth, was meant for greatness. And now you are down here, and all we do now is stumble from one disaster to the next. From one funeral of a loved one to the next. From one barely-evaded snare laid by a scheming shit-bag, to the next. The priests are fond of saying the gods have a plan for all of us. From what I've seen, their plan is shit, it is insane."

She sat on the first step leading down, rested her head on her knees for a moment.

"Oh, gods, I wonder what you'd make of all this. I was certain we were going to die, in Stormpoint. Die for Cathal's ideals, his dream of how things ought to be. How would you feel, I wonder, about my head on that executioner's block, for Cathal's notion of how things ought to be? Mara's, Finn's, Dolan's, Elena's heads, plopping into that basket, our towns burned to the ground and our fields salted, all for Cathal's notion of how things ought to be?

"Nay, it seems I live yet, it seems the gods' shit insane plan isn't finished with me yet. I may even yet live to teach Cathal's children how to hunt."

The ragged edge of hurt in her voice echoed into the dark dusty stillness, and her eyes welled with tears. 

"I suppose in his defense, the other heads of the Houses are self-serving spineless cowards, and Avan would cut his mother's throat if he thought it would turn one more kingdom to his banner. But this is how nobles have always been, and perhaps it takes a commoner like myself to see it. The rich and powerful jockey for gold and land, and the poor die in the dirt. I have seen more genuine desire to protect and defend the people in one's care from Leandra than ever I've seen in a king or a priest.

"This situation is insane, it's impossible. It truly is the pinnacle of the gods' insane shit scheming. There is no way out for us now. Wilder's Gorge is caught between the hammer of the Empire and the anvil of Cathal's ideals. 

"I saw an abandoned woodsman's cabin just a little north of the Seamist border, close to the mountains, on the bank of a little stream. The woods are deep there, lush, so full of pheasant and rabbit you could almost catch them with your bare hands..." She trailed off.

"I know now that killing the Duenes could have never given your restless and discontent spirit peace. Everything you were, all the goodness and the light that you were, left this world long ago. You would have never tormented me, baying for vengeance, anyway. It is only my restless and discontent spirit that burdens me, not yours.

"And I know now that it is not the Fulcairns, or the people of Wilder's Gorge, who make me feel like a stranger and an unworthy impostor here. It is me who does that. I feel like a stranger and an unworthy impostor everywhere, anywhere, for in my heart of hearts that is who I think I am, and I know not how much love and acceptance and time could ever heal the cracks in that particular mirror, or if indeed, if it can be healed.

"And I know now that Cathal will never be you, and that part of me expected him to be you for far too long, and that I did him a disservice by expecting that. And we cannot move forward together, in any capacity, until I stop."

"And I am not leaving this House now, or ever. And if it isn't in the gods' shit insane plan for me to serve it as its Lady, then I shall pass that duty to someone more worthy of it than I, and serve it instead with my true strengths... stepping quietly and seeing that my arrows strike their marks."

She stood, and said quietly, almost inaudibly, "Goodbye, Corrac." 

Session 18 Recap

The Wilder army rounds up the surrendered soldiers from the Seamist army and takes them to the keep; Cathal insists that they are treated fairly and humanely. Cathal and Reynhild interrogate some of Nyrion Duene's honour guard; they learn that the rank-and-file soldiers bear no great love for Nyrion and Vulpina Duene, that there was no real military leadership during the battle, and that the most distinguished military commander in Seamist, a man named Caern Redstone, has been conspicuously absent for some time.

Cathal thanks Corliss and her Silver Lions for their service to Wilder's Gorge, and bids them farewell.

Melehan informs the trio he will be joining their assault, and that he wishes to recover certain of his possessions. When he refuses to disclose what and why, Cathal angrily confronts him, leading to an uncomfortable standoff between the two.

Without further ado, the Wilder army rides south, first to the occupied town of Firstcairn. They discover it has been abandoned by the occupying Seamist army, and only a straggling handful of Wilders remain. The magistrate, Bulric, has been slain, but most other townsfolk were allowed to escape. Reynhild reunites with her Ghosts, haggard and exhausted but victorious after their efforts to harass the Duenes' army, and commends them with great pride and a rare show of emotion. The young Ghosts are sent home, and the veterans-- Adair, Asha, and Telfyrdd-- are asked by Reynhild to accompany the army. Adair is sent to find his contact Garon, the Seamist ranger who helped him uncover the plot to murder Brinden.

As they debate whether to storm the gates of Seamist or destroy them with Melehan's magic, Adair and Garon reappear. Garon offers to lead them to a secret path into the keep, and cites their fair treatment of the people of Seamist as his motivation to help them. Cathal, Reynhild, and Mara decide to infiltrate the keep by themselves, leaving their forces camped outside.

Led by Reynhild, the three enter the keep through stealth. They overwhelm, interrogate, and then tie up a servant, trying to find the Duenes; unfortunately she is discovered and raises the alarm before too long. They reach the upper floor, but encounter the youngest Duene-- Lady Niela, only five years old, and her bodyguards. Mara casts a sleep spell on them. Not long after, they confront Nyrion Duene, the wizard Faysal, several men-at-arms, and the House of Wind assassin in the Duenes' employ. A fierce battle ensues; Reynhild puts an arrow in Faysal's chest, Cathal cuts the assassin near in half, and Mara incapacitates the group with another sleep spell. Finally Cathal cuts down Nyrion and, crying vengeance for his half-brother Nyrion, bloodthieves him.

Cathal, Mara and Reynhild attempt to interrogate Faysal. He admits to murdering Corrac with sorcery, but will not confess who his master is. Mara casts a spell to compel him, but he breaks his own magical geass and it slays him.

They continue the search and eventually find Vulpina Duene. Reynhild sprints past her guards and subdues her, and both Reynhild and Cathal beseech the guards to cease their service to their unworthy and corrupt masters. With only a few moments before mayhem breaks loose, Reynhild interrogates Vulpina. Vulpina admits to killing her and Nyrion's father, Richard, admits to engineering the assassination of Corrac, Cullan, and Brindon, and states her only motivation was to crush the Fulcairns who she deemed as weak, and take over Wilder's Gorge. Reynhild kills and bloodthieves her, finally avenging Corrac.

The three make haste to pick up the sleeping Lady Niela, and head to the dungeon to free Caern of Redstone. Reynhild hands Niela over to him, and Cathal explains the situation as best he can. Caern advises them to leave. They withdraw; Caern meets them to parley later. Cathal states they wish no harm to the people of Seamist, that they have found justice for their House, and that he wishes to install a regent until Niela is of age. With no suitable regent in mind, Cathal is instated as temporary regent. He delivers a speech to the people of Seamist, informing them of the situation and his intentions, and they retire to the city to await what comes next.

Honour Your Enemy

Syggi was having nightmares again.

The small girl tossed to and fro in her sleep and muttered in Rjuven. Asha watched her warily, torn between wanting to let her sleep-- she and the other young Ghosts were exhausted-- and wanting to wake her, lest she alert the enemy who, for all they knew, could be approaching on their tiny makeshift camp even now.

Furthermore, she was keeping Asha awake. The three women-- Asha, Syggi, and the other girl from Stormpoint, the sturdy and stoic Patches--slept spooned together for warmth in the fireless riverbank hollow. Adair and Elgren dozed nearby-- even now, Adair was too gentlemanly to snuggle with a teenage girl-- and Telfyrdd crouched at the base of a tree on watch.

Truth be told, they were all tired, even she and Adair. It had been three weeks since Lady Reynhild had sent them south. Asha was more at home under boughs and stars than she ever was under roofs or on cobblestone, but this was nothing like her duties as one of the Gorge's rangers. No, that had been easy. Patrol the green pastures of the Cradle, bring back the occasional lost child fallen into a ravine, maybe put an arrow into a troublesome bear that had acquired a taste for mutton, and once in an age, track down a bandit lair for Baron Fulcairn's men to deal with.

But this... this was war.

Clothed in their masks and shrouds, they were near invisible in the thickets and rolling grasslands; using the techniques and training Reynhild had drilled into them, they moved silently and vanished like... well, like ghosts. The lightly-guarded supply wagons hadn't stood a chance. One of Reynhild's insane ideas-- simultaneous fire from cover, with one Ghost counting down in silent hand signals-- was so effective that sometimes multiple wagon guards fell dead in their seats and the horses ambled on unaware.

None of them particularly liked the notion of killing unsuspecting targets. Hell, none of them particularly liked the idea of killing. But Adair was quick to remind them that these folk carried grain and jerky that would be filling the bellies of soldiers marching on Fulcairn Keep, their blades thirsty for Wilder blood. And gods, the rumours they'd heard from the Wilders fleeing northward, of the atrocities the Duene raiders wreaked...

The first few wagons had been easy. They'd even lucked out once, and intercepted a shipment of unstrung bows and fletching supplies. Heady with victory, their tiny band had gotten bolder, burning the caravans and triumphantly marking the Ghosts' sigil with charcoal on nearby trees. But the raiders were no fools, and now the Ghosts were both hunter and hunted. They could hide in hollows that would barely fit a cat, they could walk across a forest floor and barely disturb a leaf, but Asha feared if cavalry caught them in the open, they'd be run down.

Syggi's breathing resumed the rhythms of deep sleep, and her wild shock of white-blond hair slumped. Asha relaxed. Reynhild's contact in the city had chosen these two well. Just common street rats, apparently; they'd never even seen a forest before coming to Wilder's Gorge. But they were brave, and determined, and loyal. They threw themselves to whatever absurd training exercise Reynhild put them to. Asha wasn't sure if anyone had ever given them respect or responsibility before, but their youthful eagerness to be worthy of both was almost painfully earnest. She was certain it was all that was keeping them going at the moment, when none of them had had a good night's sleep or a hot meal in nearly a month, and the snapping of a stray twig by an incautious foot could mean all their deaths.

Overhead, the blue of twilight deepened and the stars showed themselves one by one. Telfyrdd rose, silent as smoke, and came to wake them.

It was time to get to work.

****************

Syggi crashed down into the ravine, heart hammering in her ears, terror pounding like a war drum in her brain. She couldn't think to muffle her footfalls, or to hide; the pure animal instinct to flee controlled her. They couldn't follow down here, not with the horses, but she heard a neigh, and an yell, and was sure they were following her on foot.

Stupid. Stupid no-good street rat. 

Everything had been going so well. They'd been playing cat-and-mouse with a group of Duene raiders for days in the lightly wooded hill country. "After all, if they're here," Asha said, "they're not riding against Baron Cathal and Lady Reynhild. We don't even have to kill them, just keep them busy."

But then Syggi had seen him-- the one-eared man the Wilder village girls had told her about, with fear, and rage, and helplessness in their voices. Syggi knew that fear, from her time as a Stormpoint street urchin-- the fear of the lowest of people, cringeing at the mercy of the iron-shod boots of the highest. And she wanted to protect them, defend them-- it was her mission, she who'd never dreamed of having anything like a mission, other than finding enough moldy breadcrusts in order to not starve, in the first eighteen years of her life. And she had one perfect clear shot, even though Adair had carefully orchestrated where they would aim and when, and this was not in his plan.

Her shot went wide, the one-eared man yelled "Ambush!", the mounted men exploded in all directions, and the Ghosts scattered. Three of them headed straight for her. Asha's arrow sliced the jugular of one of the horses, but that was all Syggi saw before fleeing for her life.

Oh gods.

The ravine reached a dead end in a massive pile of tumbled rock and scrub. There was nowhere to flee. Climbing out would be a slow and arduous process; they'd see her exposed on the boulders, she'd be easy pickings.

Oh gods. I'm dead. Stupid no-good street rat. Street scum. Now I'm going to die here, a million leagues away from Stormpoint, in a forest, where the wolves will pick my bones. I suppose that's better than being thrown in a charnel house...

Then Syggi saw him, the one-eared man, barrel-chested and twice her size, his brigandine jingling.

The words of the Ghosts' oath drifted back to her. Honour the forest.

Honour the forest...

There was still some cover here. The leafless branches of birch and ash and shrub willow blended perfectly with the non-colour of the Ghosts' shrouds. She might be able to hide, at least for a few seconds. Maybe long enough to aim her bow. She dropped into a crouch.

"Where are you, you Fulcairn coward? You dog-fucking, treacherous piece of shit?"

Her heart pounded, but the words of the oath brought her calm, somehow.

Honour the common folk...

Syggi thought of the village girls, of their helpless terror... of feeling like less than an animal, less valuable to the rich folk than their oxen. With the deftness of endless practice, she nocked an arrow. The one-eared man drew his sword; it winked in the moonlight. "Is this how the Fulcairns make war? They send fucking cowards to play at hide-and-seek in the woods? Face me like a man, you snivelling weakling!"

Honour yourself...

I am Syggi. I will always be from the streets of Stormpoint. But now I am something more. I am no longer afraid, or helpless. I am a Ghost.

"I honour my enemy, you son of a bitch," she hissed, and her arrow streaked out of the shadows.

Session 17 Recap

Cathal, Reynhild and Mara return to Fulcairn to find the castle town in chaos. A steady trickle of refugees is arriving from the south. Finn has returned with his men and tells Cathal that the Duene forces have already occupied Firstcairn, the village on the border between Seamist and Wilder’s Gorge.

A council meeting is called and battle plans are arranged. Reynhild sends two of her youngest Ghosts to the west to raise a levy to protect the western border, as Cathal is suspicious of Geoffrey Khorien. Cathal and Reynhild themselves travel south with Cathal’s men-at-arms and the rest of the Ghosts. Mara stays at Fulcairn at Melehan’s request. The wizard says he can help prepare Mara for the battle to come. Reynhild sends more birds to Bayside and Islien, confirming that the Duenes have attacked, and requesting aid.

Before leaving, Cathal meets with Gwenevere, a novitiate priestess of Haelyn who chose to stay and help when news of the Duene army arrived. Her superiors all fled. Cathal promises her whatever help she needs to offer succor to the refugees.

Cathal and Reynhild ride Southeast, looping around the expected route of the Duene army. They split up in the woods outside Firstcairn. Cathal rides at speed to the South, into Seamist, to harry Duene supply lines. Reynhild further splits her small band of Ghosts; Adair and three others move to reconnoitre Firstcairn, while Reynhild takes Asha and Syggi North to trail the Duene army.

In Fulcairn Keep, Melehan provides Mara with a powerful scroll of conjuration magic and gives her a crash course in realm magic. He teaches her a spell of such power that it requires the magic of the mebhaigl, the deep well of divine power within the land of Wilder’s Gorge, to complete. Mara studies as astutely as she can, as she has mere days in which to learn.

Cathal comes upon a Duene wagon train guarded by a small cadre of Duene footmen. He and his horsemen strike the first blow of the conflict for Fulcairn, crushing the Duene soldiers under mace and hoof. They steal what supplies they can carry ahorse and destroy the rest. Cathal then turns Northward once again to rendezvous with the Ghosts.

Reynhild trails the Duene army. One night, she manages to steal deep into the enemy encampment and eavesdrop in a conversation within the army’s command tent. She recognizes the voices of Vulpina and Nyrian Duene, the wizard Faysal, and one other, who comes as a shock. The representative of the House of Wind, with whom Reynhild thought she had built a rapport, was discussing the unfurling of a scheme years in the making with Vulpina, saying that “the charade will soon be over.” Troubled by this, Reynhild tries to focus on Vulpina’s voice and uses the silhouettes cast upon the pavilion’s walls by the flames within. She raises her bow and fires into the tent, but narrowly misses the noble lady, and is forced to flee.

Reynhild and Cathal rendezvous outside Firstcairn. Adair reports that the village is held by a token force. Cathal wishes to move to retake it by stealth. At the last moment, they spy Nyrian Duene and his cavalry arriving to bolster the village defenses. Cathal reluctantly orders their group North. They circumvent the Duene army, and return to Fulcairn.

Reynhild and Cathal report their experiences and organize the keep defenses. The Ghosts are all sent south to disrupt the Duene army's supply lines. They bring all refugees possible into the town’s walls and build barricades on the three bridges that link the island to the mainland. The Duene army arrives and camps out of bowshot of Fulcairn’s walls a few days later. They send a messenger demanding that Cathal turn Mara over to the Duenes. In return, they will lift their siege. Cathal ignores the message, and the Fulcairns dig in for the long haul. The Fulcairn soldiers are outnumbered in the field more than two to one, and Cathal is reluctant to waste them in an attempt at a decisive battle. They wait.

Nearly a month passes. Cathal organizes regular events to keep spirits high among the civilians in the castle town. The soldiers are kept well fed and rested in case battle is joined. The Fulcairns, knowing their supplies are limited and that the Duenes know this as well, do not expect imminent attack.

One morning, a banner appears on the horizon: an azure field bearing the charge of a silver lion’s head. Cathal recognizes the Silver Lions, a Brecht mercenary company that Corlis Isilvere once claimed to have spent some time with. A clarion of trumpets arises from the ranks of the mercenaries, and Cathal rushes to organize a sortie. The Wilder Billmen and Archers are mustered in the main yard, with Cathal, Mara, and Reynhild taking up their mounts to ride with Cathal’s small contingent of Cavalry. Gwenevere, the brave priestess of Haelyn, blesses the Fulcairn forces with the word of her god, and they go forth.

The Duenes send a block of infantry to face the Brecht greatswordsmen to their rear, but turn the rest of their army on the Fulcairns. A block each of pikes and infantry, one of archers, and a small group of heavy infantry, in which Reynhild is certain the Duenes and their mage are hiding.

The Duene forces are still forming battle lines when the lesser Fulcairn force takes the field and Cathal uses this to his advantage. He sends is billmen to the right to engage the Duene infantry, thinking their polearms will give them a slight advantage over the better armored swordsmen that they would not have against the pikes. He sets his archers on the rise of the bridge, where they open fire on the more ill-trained and equipped Duene archers. Cathal then rides his cavalry around the flank of the Duene pikes, where Mara finally unleashes her magic upon them.

The conjurer summons a living vestige of the very land itself, a walking hill-side that rises from the earth and smashes into the center of the Duene pikes. The Fulcairn bills fight stoutly against the Duene infantry, who hold their ground. The pikes are useless against Mara’s creature, and it sets to work turning Duene soldiers to pulp. The Duene archers attempt to return fire against the Fulcairn archers, but their weaker bows and the cover of the barricades minimize Wilder casualties. Reynhild snipes the captain of the Duene pike block from horseback and sends the pikemen into further disarray.

Across the field, the Silver Lions are making quick work of the Duene infantry sent against them. The Duene armour is no better than leaves against their greatswords. The other Duene infantry unit pushes back against the Wilder infantry, inflicting some casualties, but also catching themselves on the points of the Wilders’ bills in the process. From within the small block of the Duene Honour Guard, Mara senses Faisal’s magic. The sky opens, and bolts of lightning strike Cathal’s wedge of cavalry, killing three horsemen and their mounts outright.

Incensed, Mara unleashes devastating balls of magical fire upon the block of Duene archers, killing dozens. Using the magical onslaught to his advantage, Cathal sounds the charge and the Fulcairn horse gouge into the archers’ flanks. Reynhild once again finds the flesh of a Duene captain with her deadly arrows. The Duene pikes attempt to disengage from Mara’s elemental, but leave themselves open to a storm of Wilder arrows in doing so. They are raked by Cathal’s archers and lose a great number from their ranks. The Wilder billmen fight on, their ferocity and heart overcoming the better equipped Duene soldiery. The Silver Lions eradicate their foes almost to the man, the few survivors rush from the field, fleeing South toward their homes. The Duene Infantry facing the Fulcairn polearms also break and run. 

Cathal’s cavalry are pressed, however. Heavily outnumbered and now engulfed between the remnant of the Duene pikes and now regrouped archers, they start to take casualties. Cathal calls upon the power of Anduiras that runs in his veins and bellows with the voice of a dead god. The power of the divine blood shatters the morale of the Duene soldiers, already shaken by Mara’s magical power, Reynhild’s systematic removal of their commanders, and the unshakeable fighting spirit of the Wilders. Cathal calls for their surrender, offering succor to those who will throw down their arms and beg it. 

The Duene Honour guard flee, presumably with Faisal within them. Cathal, Reynhild, and Mara give chase. After a short pursuit, the honour guard stop short and close ranks to intercept the Fulcairn Cavalry. Faisal, astride a ghostly steed, sprints from within them, and dashes off to the west. He is too fast for the Fulcairn cavalry to catch, so Cathal reigns up before the mage’s honour guard and demands their surrender, which they offer readily. Alas, the Duene siblings are not among them.

The Fulcairns win a decisive victory, despite inferior numbers and resources. Captives are stripped of their armour and detained. Cathal greets Corlis Isilvere with great joy and offers his hospitality to her and the Silver Lions. A feast is held within the town that night, and then rest, for soon the Fulcairns must march on Seamist, and end the machinations of Vulpina and Nyrian for the good of Taeghas. 

Session 10 Art Recap

Session 16 Lazy Recap

The dwarven tradesman Dvorak Iron-Tongue arrives at Fulcairn Keep, transporting the tome of necromancy Leandra obtained through her criminal underground connections. He cautions the Fulcairns to take great care with it.

The Fulcairns receive a message from the Duenes, stating that they need the Fulcairns' offered help against orogs in the east. Sensing a trap, Cathal replies trying to stall them.

Mara begins to study the book, at a great and terrible cost to both her mind and body.

Cathal and Reynhild deal with the rumours that have been circulating among the townsfolk, that the House is cursed. Reynhild's Ghosts attempt to ascertain that the rumours are planned and deliberate, but are unable to do so. They locate a merchant who has been uttering such; Cathal reassures him that all is well, and he seems put at ease.

The Fulcairns receive a summons from the capital-- that criminal charges have been laid against Mara. Cathal, outraged, demands to know specifically what the charges are, and from whom, and states they will not leave Wilder's Gorge until he knows.

Mara races desperately against time to save Melehan, even as studying the book begins to consume her strength and sanity. Finally she is ready to begin the ritual. She conducts it in the woods, away from the Keep. First a Fulcairn hawk is sacrificed, then their horses, but she manages to turn aside the necromantic spell on Melehan. She does not manage to uncover its source, other than it is not Anuirean in origin. Cathal, horrified by the necromantic ritual, demands Mara destroy the book. A fierce argument ensues, but in the end, Mara destroys it herself with magical fire. Cathal's trust in Mara is affirmed. Melehan is saved, though not yet conscious.

Back at Fulcairn Keep, the message arrives-- House Duene is accusing Mara of slaying Richard Duene with necromancy. Reynhild is quietly enraged-- both her attempt to connect with Vulpina, and her attempt to take the high road by sparing Nyrion from the House of Wind's assassins-- were evidently for naught. With no other choice, the Fulcairns leave Melehan in Elena's care and ride for Stormpoint.

At Stormpoint, there is chaos, as the Taeghan interim government envoys attempt vainly to maintain order. Cathal furiously refuses to relinquish Mara to the court's custody. Reynhild tries to secure Leandra's help against the Duenes, but nothing can be done. The trial begins the following day. An old servant claims he witnessed Mara casting dark magics, but rather suspiciously, he dies on the stand. Vulpina insists Mara is responsible, and calls for her execution. Uproar fills the court. In the midst of it, the Fulcairns receive a magical message from Melehan-- he tells them it was the Khinasi wizard, Faysal, who enspelled him.

Reynhild, desperate to save Mara's life, addresses the court, speaking of her love for Corrac, her agony at his illness and death at the hands of the same necromancy, and her complete certainty that Mara was not responsible. The court appears to relent somewhat; furious at having lost control of the situation, the Duenes storm out. The Fulcairns, sensing something is awry, leave for Wilder's Gorge immediately.

Upon returning home, they discover villagers fleeing Firstcairn-- the Duenes are attacking Wilder's Gorge.

Session 15 Recap

Reynhild is recruiting more people to join her Ghosts, among them Elgrin, the archer who made a good show at the spring tourney.

Varyan readies to leave. Cathal has his suit of Rjurikan mail altered to fit the Paladin and gifts it to him with thanks. Mara gives Varyan a pair of vambraces and he is moved to tears at this. Reynhild asks Varyan how he is able to discern people’s potential. He tells her has no explanation, and advises her to trust her instincts.

Cathal receives a message from Stormpoint urging his presence at a council of the peers of Taeghas. Cathal, Reynhild, and Mara make ready to leave as Varyan rides away from the Castle. Reynhild and Mara have a conversation about Melehan; Mara reassures Reynhild that her first obligation is to the house.

On the road to Stormpoint, Cathal takes Mara fishing. He talks to her about her place in the house and re-assures her that she has his trust, and that he considers her a sister. He speaks to her of Melehan as well, saying he wants to trust the wizard but needs her to keep an eye on him.

Upon reaching Stormpoint, Mara takes the Fulcairn party to her parents’ wine shop, where they gift Cathal with a rare vintage brewed in the Chimaeron. The Fulcairns move to the palace and hold a modest feast to celebrate their safe arrival. Only Cathal and Reynhild abstain from drinking. When the party retires for the evening, Reynhild departs to seek out Leandra, her contact in the city.

Cathal wanders the Palace gardens, and spends some time watching the stars. He spies a shower of meteors passing through the Tower, a major constellation. Cathal is somewhat troubled by the ominous sign.

Reynhild speaks with Leandra, inquiring after the well-being of her people. Reynhild requests that Leandra seek the most proficient and good-hearted among her people and send them to Fort Caedmon for training. Reynhild also discovers that the agents Leandra sent to spy on the Duenes have not reported in some time. Worried, Reynhild returns to the Palace.

The next day, Cathal joins the other provincial lords of Taeghas in the council chamber, each of them attended by their closest advisors. Lorica Norvien explains that Harald Khorien will be abdicating his throne, and rule of Taeghas will not be passing down the familial line. Darien Avan is sending delegates from his court to ‘aid’ in the choosing of a new ruler of Taeghas. In the meantime, as is tradition, the peers of Taeghas have been granted the opportunity to elect their new liege lord. Being the seneschal of the realm, Norvien recuses herself from the process, and asks the other peers to consult their advisors before casting their vote, granting that none may nominate themselves.

Cathal speaks with Mara and Reynhild. Together, they discuss who would be the best candidate, both for Taeghas and for the future of the house. After intense deliberation, they all conclude that Ghaelen Isilvere is the best choice. While they are all sure this vote will never result in an actual election, who they vote for could greatly impact the future of Fulcairn.

Cathal returns to the table to partake in the vote. Isilvere votes for Branna Nentril, quoting her military experience and the potential need for such. Noelen Bhaine unwisely chooses to abstain, thinking it is the only way to keep his rivals from gaining an advantage. Branna Nentril votes for Isilvere, as does Cathal; each of them speak of his superior influence and experience. Blaede Sloere votes for Cathal, as Fulcairn is the only noble to have offered him any respect at fall court. Geoffrey Khorien, overcome with rage at being passed over for inheritance, abstains and flees the room. Vulpina Duene nominates Branna Nentril, also quoting her military prowess. No majority is reached, and Norvien exhaustedly admits that the succession in Taeghas will now be utterly under Avan’s control. She then opens the table to discussion of issues within Taeghas.

Isilvere spends his time pontificating about the virtues of the burgeoning empire. He reinforces Avan’s ultimate authority, and stresses acceptance of the Emperor’s envoys as extensions of the Emperor’s own voice.

Branna Nentril speaks of her concern over Khorien’s absence. She sees some instability fomenting in Taeghas and worries that Khorien has abandoned the realm.

Noelen Bhaine speaks of issues with trade. The expansion of Avan’s empire is putting strain on trade relationships outside its border. Bhaine is concerned about Taeghas’ mercantile future if trade keeps being disrupted.

Blaede Sloere speaks of encroachment on his lands by folk loyal to Brosengae. He says that, for the time, they are mostly traders and rabble rousers, but he fears an armed advance into his territory is not far off.

Cathal stands and addresses all present. He speaks of Khorien’s absence and, in response to Nentril, says responsibility now falls to them to protect and nourish Taeghas. He then implores his peers to listen to each other, and to offer help where they can.

Vulpina Duene offers a few choice remarks about outside envoys having anything to do with Taeghan politics. She then claims that her father’s death was no accident, but a magical assassination, and that she believes the culprit is Taeghan. This shocks many present.

The meeting adjourns, and the nobles mill a for a moment before departing. Cathal speaks with Bhaine about helping Sloere hold off Brosengae’s merchants. Bhaine dismisses the idea out of hand, and leaves. Cathal then thanks Sloere for his support and offers aid, should an opportunity come for it to be given. The Fulcairns then leave.

Reynhild, Mara, and Cathal all wish to speak with Vulpina Duene about her father’s death as it is too similar to Corrac’s to be a coincidence. Cathal sends a message to her requesting a meeting on the morrow. Cathal and Reynhild then go to see Ghaelin Isilvere in his chambers and discuss the implications of what had been discussed at the meeting.

The next day, Cathal and Reynhild find Vulpina Duene and her brother Nirian Duene. Cathal proclaims that he wishes to squash whatever grudge is between them, and that he wishes to help them with the investigation into who killed their father. Reynhild asks and is granted a moment alone with Vulpina. Reynhild opens up to Lady Duene, speaking at length of Corrac’s deterioration and death. At the end, Vulpina shows no emotion, or concern at all despite Reinhold’s obvious distress.

That evening, Cathal receives a message from Tashairah. The poet writes that Boeruine is under the control of a new Archduke, and its lords have been united once again. They are being aided by a mysterious mage who is known only as The Dragon. Cathal is troubled by this news.

The Fulcairns start the journey back to Wilder’s Gorge the next morning.

Upon their return, they are greeted with harrowing news: Melehan has been struck ill by some strange malevolence. An item had been delivered to the keep shortly after they left for Stormpoint, and it emanated an eldritch energy that struck the great mage.

Mara rushes to Melehan’s side and begins to assess the curse that afflicts him. She discovers that it is necromantic in origin, but Melehan has also cast a strong abjuration upon himself that has placed him and the sickness in stasis. Mara is left with a choice to make. She can suppress Melehan’s spell and risk his death to trace the necromantic spell back to its source, or she can use brute force to attempt to dispel both spells, with the risk that she may dispel one without dispelling the other. Mara decides that she needs to know more about the magic of the curse, and asks Reynhild to use her contacts to find a very dangerous book.

Good Times

Overheard in the ‘Horse and Tack’ at Seamist:

“Remember that time we rode in full force when that young Wilder lass was bathing? The one with the perky tits? After this, she probably never took a bath again!” Loud laughter roared throughout the common hall.

“Aye, her brothers tried to give us trouble. Well, one of those idiots doesn’t need to till the farmlands anymore. He has no more use of his leg!” Again, laughter rolled off the mouths of the six rough men sitting in the tavern.

“I tell you, we ride again tomorrow. Not just us though, as we have done in the past. Nyrion is taking the army as well. Firstcairn will be ours. I’ll personally slit the throat of that fat bastard.” The one-eared man intoned, after gulping down his ale.

“Will any of the troops give us any trouble?”

“Nah. Nyrion is our liege lord. Who would disobey him? Besides, it is that witch at Fulcairn that killed Duene. Blood for blood.”

“And perhaps some Wilder lasses for entertainment, eh boys?”

And the raiders cheered.