SESSION 39 RECAP

The morning after the defeat of the Imperial army by the newly united Taeghan army, Cuinn calls a council of the heads of the other houses to discuss their next move. Tychon, unsurprisingly, wishes to attack the remainder of the Avanese and drive them out by force; Ukko and the others feel they need to save their strength for the siege of Stormpoint. Some tensions arise as Corliss Isilvaere feels House Valmyrri were disloyal to Islien, and questions are raised about the loyalty of Athelan, the Haelynite priest who-- after what was undoubtedly a memorable night with Aerona-- joined the Taeghans. Cuinn decides they need to negotiate, and sends a messenger to the Avanese to arrange a parley. She also sends a message to Blaede Sloere, as nothing has been heard from Brosien for some time.

Cuinn, Mara, and Aerona meet the Imperial envoy to negotiate. The Avanese want twenty gold bars to leave Taeghas without further raids in order to resupply, and state they will only relinquish the Taeghan soldiers if the estates loyal to the Empire continue to give tribute to it. The latter is an unbearable compromise, as the Fulcairns cannot abide a patchwork Taeghas of conflicting allegiances; Aerona cunningly points out that mercenary units would be cheaper, and Cuinn notes that she pities them, for she has seen how Avan treats those who fail him. They manage to negotiate down to twelve gold bars, and the Taeghans are released from Imperial service without further cost.

Cuinn thanks Corliss for her unfailing bravery and loyalty to House Fulcairn, and vows to aid Corliss and House Isilvaere however she can in the days to come; wishing to dispel the tension between Corliss and the Valmyrris, both who purport to speak for Islien, she speaks with Moerel Valmyrri privately. She offers them the regency of Seamist as reward for their bravery, and promises to either exile or make a vassal of Caron Duene. Moerel's heirloom sword is still vibrating mysteriously; he discloses that it vibrates in the presence of those with Valmyrri blood. Cuinn, made suddenly uncomfortable, departs.

Cuinn signs the agreement letting the Imperial army leave in peace, and they depart. The Taeghans who remained loyal to the Empire return with great apprehension. Cuinn and Aerona reassure them, and Cuinn vows that they will be safe from harm if they renew their allegiance to Taeghas.

A messenger comes back from Brosien bearing a letter not from Sloere, but from the Duchess of Brosengae. She claims that, at Sloere's request, Brosengae has taken over Brosien as a "protectorate", and she invites Cuinn to visit to discuss the situation.

Cuinn and the other heads of the houses are outraged. Cuinn decides that they cannot ignore this direct attack against Taeghan sovereignty, even with the impending siege of Stormpoint, nor can they ignore the plight of Sloere, who they doubt is complicit of his own free will. Cuinn, Mara, Aerona, and a dozen men-at-arms ride south for Brosien.

They find Brosengae military here and there, but not enough to be called an outright occupation; they notice that the servants in the Keep appear genuinely terrified. The Fulcairns immediately suspect not all is as it seems. They are greeted warmly by a beautiful and well-dressed woman calling herself the Duchess, and at her side is Xander the Arcanist-- the wizard who served the Imperial army under Thaliere, who evidently escaped and made straight for his home of Brosengae. Sloere is present, unharmed, but his wooden demeanor makes it clear that something is amiss. Stiff pleasantries are exchanged, and dinner is served. The Duchess claims she came at the behest of Blaede Sloere to "protect" Brosien while a three-front war rages in Taeghas; she makes it clear her forces are going nowhere.

The Fulcairns silently deliberate what to do. They are certain that Sloere is being blackmailed or otherwise manipulated, and worry that the consequences of a military assault on Brosien may fall squarely on his house, and also sense that Xander may be constructing a magical trap for them of some kind. They consider playing along and attempting to gather information or at least speak to Sloere. However, Cuinn decides that this insult to Taeghan sovereignty, and her newly-fledged rule of Taeghas, cannot be suffered, and her actions here will send a clear message to both allies and enemies. She draws her bow at the dinner table and, before anyone can blink, puts two arrows into Xander at close range, killing him instantly.

However, the "Duchess" is not taken off guard-- she moves just as fast as Cuinn, and as soon as Xander falls, she is on Cuinn, rapier at the ready. Both parties of men-at-arms leap into action. Aerona attempts to hold them off with her spectral warriors, and Mara tries to help Cuinn, who is locked in a duel of blinding speed with the "Duchess". She savagely wounds Cuinn using techniques that are decidedly familiar to her, and only by sheer luck does Cuinn manage to best her. Her death does not demoralize her men in the slightest, and the Fulcairns quickly realize the truth-- she was not the Duchess of Brosengae but an assassin, and this was indeed a trap laid for them. However, without the wizard and the assassin, they are at a disadvantage, and the Fulcairns and their men finish them off.

Blaede Sloere is also gravely wounded, but the gratitude is plain on his face; he confirms this was a trap and they are holding his wife and child hostage upstairs. Aerona moves to the keep door to hold off any further attack; Cuinn and Mara quickly move upstairs, where three men are holding Lady Sloere and their two children at knifepoint. Mara casts a sleep spell and it lands with perfect precision; Cuinn dispassionately slits the captors' throats, and they go to reunite Blaede Sloere with his family.

He explains that he had been fighting a sustained war with Brosengae through a long and convoluted web of deceit, sabotage, skirmishes, and treachery, perpetrated in part by his own vassal houses, culminating in this attempt to assassinate Cuinn and consolidate Brosengae's ownership of Brosien. He expresses his gratitude and vows undying loyalty to the Fulcairns, and commits both gold and a unit of siege engineers to aid with the war in Stormpoint. Cuinn embraces him and expresses regret that the previous rulership of Taeghas had done so little to aid Brosien; she vows that this will not happen again.

The Fulcairns return triumphant to rendezvous with their army in Seamist.

Thunder and Flame

[To everyone's surprise, Marlae Agelmore, the venerable bard from Three Corners, took up a bow and marched with the Wilder archer regiment. She composed this as a marching song to rally the troop's spirits, and it proved very popular all over the north.]

Steady as it goes, lads!
'Neath the hawk, wave, and rose, lads! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)
Cuinn the Countess, she came, lads!
With her thunder and flame, lads! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)

Steady drive the nags, girls!
'Neath brave new griffon flags, girls! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)
Cuinn the Countess, she came, girls!
To break two sets of chains, girls! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)

With the Lady of Thunder who rides on her left
Mara Firehawk rides on her right
With the Lords of Portage and Bayside,to flip
The bird at the Emperor's might!

So we March to take back what is rightfully ours
With our eyes ever fixed on our kill
If Cuinn's arrows should fail to find Thaliere's heart
Then the thunder and flame surely will!

Steady as the forge, lads!
For the pride of the Gorge, lads! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)
Aim as keen as the elves, lads!
Masters? None but ourselves, lads! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)

Steady down the path, girls!
Bring Cuiraecen's wrath, girls! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)
Bring the Empire to shame, girls!
With our thunder and flame, girls! (Hey! Hey! Hi!)

Revealing the Crown

The Northron Skein - Part 4

Cathal prepares to move south with Dolan and the rest of the warriors provided by Fulgrim. Njorna enters the yard, visibly distraught, and rushes to Cathal, saying she has seen the blood of Thrumrsson’s hostages staining the gold they prepare to send in payment for the Gryphon stone. Cathal’s conscience takes control, and he commands his warriors to make ready for the ride back to the bear lord’s hold.

The journey is quicker this time; they ride hard and know the terrain better. Cathal sends out scouts and outriders upon crossing into The White Witch’s Realm. One returns with news that Thrumrsson’s hold is under attack. Cathal, worried that the Yngvi captives may be in imminent danger, forces a march the rest of the way.

When they reach the hold, the Northern walls are under assault by another, superior band of Trygvaar warriors. Thrumrsson’s fortress is ablaze, and chaos calls out within. Cathal wastes no time. He gathers his swiftest and quietest followers, and scales the south wall of the fortress. They meet no resistance there. It seems all of the bear-chief’s fighters are occupied. Cathal orders a few warriors to the south-east gate to let in the rest of their band, ordering them to secure their retreat. He orders his three scouts to spy the battle-line, and to return to him should the captives be among those fighting. He and seven other warriors, including Dolan and Egil, move to infiltrate the main hall.

They find a group of Trygvaar women, children, elderly and sickly in the hall. Cathal briefly considers taking them back to Hogunmark with his band when they retreat, but errs on the side of practicality. He informs them that the Southeast gate is clear, and that if they wish to try their luck in escaping, they may. Only half of the Trygvaar take him up on the offer, the others grumbling stubbornly.

Cathal, Egil and Dolan ascend to the upper level of the hall, sending the other four huscarls into the cellars below, all searching for the Yngvi captives. Cathal’s group stumbles on a small team of Trygvaar warriors attempting to batter down a barricaded door. Caring little about for which side they fight, Cathal rushes them, killing one instantly and wounding another. Dolan and Egil fall in behind him and they make short work of the surprised Trygvaar. Cathal knocks on the blocked door and calls out, identifying himself and his intention. There is no answer, and the sound of fighting rises from below. The three of them rush to the cellars to come to the aid of the other Yngvi.

There, they find the hostages locked in crude iron cages, but three of their allies are locked in combat with some of Thrumrsson’s raiders, another is wounded on the floor. Cathal orders Dolan to free the Yngvi hostages while he uses his blood to heal the fallen warrior.  He, Egil, and the man he healed then charge to reinforce their companions. Cathal fights ferociously, felling Trygvaar wherever he casts his blade, Egil also makes a brave accounting, and the Trygvaars’ nerve quickly breaks, though another Yngvi suffers a wound. The attacking force eventually breaks into the cellar, a deep, cavernous hall, and Thrumrsson’s men are forced to leave the Yngvi to their task, or be slaughtered between their two foes. Dolan has, by then, freed the hostages.

Cathal leads them out of the dungeons, and covers their escape. As he stands at guard, a large warrior, not one of Thorbjorn’s, calls out as the attackers breach the hall at the other end. He is a massive, black silhouette against the fires outside.

“IT’S HIM,” He screams, “THE ONE THE LADY SEEKS!”

Cathal calmly spreads his hands, gives the warrior his best leg and yells

“Tell your queen that I am flattered, but I really must be going!”

He and the other Yngvi mount up outside, and flee back to Hogunmark.

Upon arriving, they are given a hero’s welcome. Cathal is loath to rest too long though, and almost immediately prepares to depart for Rjuvik. Fulgrim informs him that warriors belonging to other Jarls have arrived in Veikanger, having heard of Cathal’s quest. Some twenty or thirty from all over Hogunmark, asking to join his band.

Cathal meets with them and consults Dolan as to which he should bring. The cagey mercenary offers his opinions, saying there are some whose motivations are not clear, and they must be left behind. Cathal thanks Dolan for his counsel, but chooses to bring them all in the end, though is careful to set up watches in which Yngvi always outnumber the newcomers among the waking.

His band, now close to seventy strong, makes for the south. There they must seek out an ancient barrow; a time-haunted burial mound near the fetid swamps of Dankmaar, and within a day’s ride of Viborg, where the Reaver Queen is said to have her hall.

After party

It is deep in the night when the Priestess tosses the roiling masses from her tent; she pushes them out into the blackness to find their beds or folly. They wander off in pairs or more toward the still-burning fires throughout the war camp.

Aerona is pacing - rolling her shoulders, her hands raised up in a guard. She should be exhausted but she’s ravenous. Nothing: not sex, nor drink, nor food has quenched the electric buzz of her limbs. Nothing can sate the blaze in her belly. She’s the lioness rampant tonight.

The conflict is as yet unfinished - and the unbridled hunger of Cuiraécen flows through his Priestess. Aerona curses herself for encouraging Mara and Cuinn to ride off without her - choosing instead to march in with the infantry. She rages at her inability to have brought her confrontation with the Haelynite to its fateful conclusion. The Knights Hawk have been decimated, their leader Iseult Bennett remains close to death, and Laurentius has fallen; all these things she laments. If she were a devotee of Nesirie, she would sink her body to the neck into the river and wail for the fallen.

“Let my sword lance the wicked as the knife lances a wound, oh Lord Cuiraécen. Let me strip from myself that which is unworthy of your Favour.”    

There is naught she can do but avenge the exalted dead. Aerona had stood firm - the rock upon which the wave broke, but the infantry streamed behind, crushed between two lines of Anuireans. Her ghostly Shield Brothers - terrifying in their luminous ferocity - had struck down any who dared approach, isolating her at the front of the phalanx. But it wasn’t enough. She knew without doubt that the Haelynite would have been forced to his knees before her: when the retreat was called, he’d slunk away heavily wounded. Her own infantry however had barely survived the fight.

Aerona lit incense and oiled herself before her altar. Eyes closed, she thanked the Protector of the Weak for protecting her - for sending her to Wilders Gorge, and saving her from herself. Cuinn and Mara, and the people of the Gorge, and of Taeghas herself had opened before Aerona like a gift. She’d discovered her passion in the people she’d left behind a long time ago. This kingdom had risen up to meet Cuinn’s ambitions with a fervor that surprised and delighted the Priestess. Surely the hand of Cuiraécen had guided Balros in sending her here - if only to bear witness to an army turning on itself at the order of the Lost Queen of Taeghas. Cuinn and Mara were so unimaginably powerful - everywhere they went the world reshaped around them. Aerona saw the hands of the gods in their wake.

There’s a shadow in the doorway.

Aerona is on her feet before the the intruder makes it through the tent flap but her punch is wide and is blocked by an elbow. The palm strike to her abdomen pushes her back further into the tent, but her attacker is just fending her off. It's a moment before Aerona connects the tall, dark-haired man with the Haelynite. He is dressed in plain clothes, and his shoulder length hair hangs free. Once inside the doorway, he stands silently before her. Aerona could yell, and the entire camp would be upon them. The Haelynite stares intently into her face, dark eyes smouldering.

Somewhere in the distance thunder rolls. Aerona rolls atop him as soon as they are able to tear his clothes from his body. They don't talk, not yet, but both are determined to outlast the other. Here too, Aerona sets out to prove her mettle.

Shrapnel

Cuinn was having trouble sleeping.

She was exhausted; was in fact beyond exhausted and still running on the dregs of battle-rage and desperation and terror. Still, this was hardly an unusual event. Even before Reynhild Andersdottir and her ill-gotten gift of gods-touched hyper-alertness, Cuinn rarely slept more than a consecutive few hours. It was likely a result, she figured, of growing up in a world where your companions would like as not slip a knife between your ribs for your boots or the handful of jerky in your purse.

She'd even taken the precaution of pitching her tent well away from Mara's and Aerona's. They certainly didn't help. Mara was apt to shout phrases in ancient mystic languages in her sleep, some of which would make the room shake, glowing sigils half-appear in the air before winking out, or summon a stink of brimstone. Aerona either snored, particularly if she'd been drinking, or kept all and sundry awake with ecstatic cries from her tent's other occupant, or occupants. Or both.

Only next to Corrac had she ever slept the untroubled six or more hours' span of sleep that everyone else in the world seemed to relish.

For a brief moment she pictured him sitting next to her at the open flap of her battlefield tent, clad in his field plate, stropping a dent from the edge of his sword. What would you think of all this? she wondered. Would you grin at me wryly? Remark "Reyn, my star, don't you think this has all gotten a little out of hand?"

Because at some point, she realized, she had ceased doing this to honour Corrac's memory, or Cullan's. Nay, at some point, the burning ambition that kept her rushing headlong down this foolhardy path stopped flowing from any other source but inside her.

And with a twinge of guilt, she realized it had been a long time since she had thought of Corrac. His shade seemed a firefly burning a bright trail through the darkness of her memory, something precious but evanescent, where it used to feel like an anchor dragging her to the bottom of an abyss of loss.

Cuinn winced; she was more bandaged and poulticed wounds than hale flesh at the moment. She had nearly died; she had not gazed death so squarely in its vacant eye sockets since the battle with the Bladesingers. Her face smarted. Thaliere's greatsword--a handsome, monstrously large thing with an onyx dragon head for a pommel-- had taken the tip off her right earlobe, slashed along her lower right jaw and chin, cleaved clean through her cuirass and into the flesh beneath her left shoulder. If she'd been a fraction of a second slower, the erstwhile Countess would have taken her head clean off. As it was, she would carry the scar from their fight. Aerona had offered to try and heal it, but Cuinn declined. Thousands of men and women have died, for the ambitions of dukes and emperors, for our lofty notions of independence, for my desire to see the lost glory of House Fulcairn restored. Thousands of men and women have given up far more than a gobbet of flesh. Let me see them, let me remember them every time I look in the mirror. 

She rose and walked into the night. An eerie stillness had descended on the valley. The dying had been put out of their misery, and the wounded had, through Aerona's spells and more mundane medicines, at least found some rest. The carrion crows had been driven off. The only sound was the wind, and the last crackling embers of the pyres where bodies burned.

Tomorrow, she would ask Aerona to use her skill at magically shaping stone to erect a monument for the fallen, here on the valley floor. A griffon taking flight, perhaps, to commemorate their bravery in the fight for Taeghas' freedom. A touch of irony; a flying creature it might be, but she knew she would carry its monolithic weight always.

''Tis a great victory we have won today, but I feel the weight on my heart and the scar on my face more than the victory. And perhaps this is as it should be. The day I throw away lives on a whim is the day I am no longer  fit to lead.

Something glittering caught her eye as she walked. There, in a pile of iron shrapnel, was a handful of chips and splinters from the ensorceled rubies that had powered the arcanist Xander's iron construct. She bent to pick them up; they gleamed like spilt blood in her palm.

Maybe I'll have one set into the Crown of the Taeghan Kings, she mused.

So many deaths, all for my desire to see the lost glory of House Fulcairn restored. 

My desire. 

I am no one's grieving widow anymore. No one's wife. No one's paramour. I am no longer an impostor, a bandit, a grifter playing at respectability. I am Cuinn Fulcairn. 

As she walked away,  two teenage squires from Seasdeep, who'd sneaked from their encampment hoping to scavenge bits from the golem's remains, timidly crept closer. One pointed at her retreating silhouette and whispered "The Titanslayer" to the other, but she didn't hear him.

SESSION 38 RECAP

The Fulcairns discuss the plans for the spring campaign with Count Tychon and Count Ukko. They decide they must intercept the Imperial army enroute to Stormpoint and appeal to the Taeghans to join them as a free and independent Taeghas. Cuinn discloses two things to the other counts-- the ancient crown of Taeghan kings, and the documents proving House Fulcairn once ruled Taeghas. Ukko states that these make her not just a rebel, but a legitimate claimant. Emboldened, they part ways until spring.

The armies of Wilder's Gorge, Bayside, and Portage begin to march. Aerona dispatches a magical message to Caern of Redstone, bidding him to join the fight for an independent Taeghas. Both armies' scouts become aware of each other, and the Imperial army sends a messenger to offer terms of surrender-- Thaliere vows that the soldiers will go unharmed if they join the host enroute to Stormpoint. In lieu of answering, Cuinn, resplendent in the tabard with the new crowned-griffon heraldry of free Taeghas, with hawk on wrist and a cairnhound following alongside, addresses the army, her voice magically boosted by Aerona. She entreats the Taeghan army to join them and fight for the freedom of Taeghas and its destiny as a sovereign nation and people, free from the yokes of both Boeruine and Avanil. The Imperial envoy leaves, Count Tychon spits at the ground in his wake, and the armies mobilize.

The Imperial army is a terrifying sight-- more than twice the size of the northern Taeghan army, equipped with siege engines and the wagons of the Imperial mage, the arcanist Xander. The Fulcairns nonetheless grimly urge their army forward. Suddenly a cry is heard from the Imperial army, urging Taeghans to fulfill their duty to the land and the common people of Taeghas. Someone names the speaker Valmyrri-- the long-lost vassal house of Wilder's Gorge. A mysterious vibration is felt. Two units, formerly in service to Islien, and a unit of Seasdeep turn against the Imperial army. The Silver Lions, led by Corliss Isilvaere, waver, undecided as to their allegiances.

The fighting begins in deadly earnest. Mara summons her horde of firehawks, Cuinn stays to protect her, and Aerona descends into the fray with the Bayside elite infantry. Almost immediately, a horrifying sight appears-- Xander has raised a massive iron golem encrusted with gems. Immune to normal weapons, it begins slaughtering the Valmyrri soldiers.

Cuinn, wielding her magical bow from Melehan's armoury, sends volley after volley at the iron titan. Mara, catching sight of Xander, sends a fireball not at him, but at his wagon of supplies. The alchemical reagents explode in a massive mushroom cloud, slaying a number of bystanders, though Xander manages to evade.

Aerona summons her ghostly warrior guardians and attempts to hold back the enemy infantry, but the Bayside infantry is taking heavy losses. Soon she finds herself face to face with the Haelynite priest whose magic is healing and bolstering them, and the two begin trading blows.

Xander and Mara are locked in a magical duel; Xander attempts to magically change Mara's form. She evades, but traps him in a sphere of magic, where he is immune to attacks but is unable to cast. He can, however, move slowly, and begins to inch away. They cannot give chase, for soon, Thaliere herself, face red with rage, and her Dragon Knights, are upon Cuinn, Mara, and their men-at-arms. Despite the protective shields of the Dragon Knights, Cuinn manages to strike Thaliere with two arrows before they are upon them and Cuinn is forced to drop her bow.

The Silver Lions, Corliss Isilvaere's unit, turns against the other units of Islien and joins the Taeghans, effectively betraying her father and family.

Mara's young mage assistant, Dorian, bravely takes on a Dragon Knight singlehandedly; all his magical abilities barely help him stay alive, and Mara can only watch, horrified. Their men-at-arms are clearly outmatched by the Dragon Knights, and Cuinn cannot stand toe-to-toe with Thaliere in melee combat; Thaliere rains blows on Cuinn, gravely wounding her. Cuinn gets in a lucky strike with her blades, and an odd golden light seeps from the wounds-- the Haelynite priest's magic has saved Thaliere's life. Mara makes a desperate, dangerous gamble-- she throws a fireball directly into the melee. A Dragon Knight hurls himself on Thaliere, taking most, but not all, of the damage for her. Taeghan men-at-arms and Dragon Knights alike perish in the blaze, but Cuinn's god-touched blood protects her; the majority of the flames sluice harmlessly off her. But Thaliere and two Dragon Knights survive, and rise.

Both Cuinn and Thaliere are so grievously wounded that both can barely stand and continue fighting. Mara draws her own blood to gain the power to cast one final spell-- she sends a storm of magic missiles at Thaliere that cut through her armour and perforate her body in a dozen places... finally slaying her.

Aerona and the Haelynite priest are locked in combat, and Aerona has greatly injured the priest, but she realizes that the decimated Bayside infantry are falling back, and she disengages to join them, shrugging off a handful of javelin strikes as she retreats.

The Taeghan men-at-arms surge forward to protect Cuinn, Mara, and Dorian, just as a horn sounds-- the Imperial army are finally falling back. The battle is won, at least for now. Miraculously, the other heads of the Houses have survived. They quickly confer over what to do. Tychon, ever zealous, wishes to pursue them and drive them off forever, but Ukko and Cuinn believe they need to regroup, tend the wounded, and assess the situation further, as the Imperial army has merely retreated, not been routed decisively.

Cuinn and Mara are greeted on the field by a trio of brothers who state they are of House Valmyrri. Cuinn thanks them for their service. One of them notes that his ancient legacy sword, the heirloom of their house, is still vibrating-- the characteristic vibration they all had sensed earlier in the battle. Cuinn asks what it means, but he replies "A family matter" and says no more.