:Sohan goes with Naimar and Baldur:
While waiting, Henry will use his investigation skills throughout the manor to see if he can figure out what might have happened to Blooming guy and his staff.
Sohan, Baldur and Naimar search the manor. Though the Ironhall soldiers reported that D’Bleum has been missing for a few months it’s obvious that the manse has been neglected for far longer. Many of the rooms have been looted and stripped of furniture and the halls are littered with animal feces. In the master bedroom Baldur finds a faded Ironhall tabard with a cloth of gold hem.
*At first Henry doesn’t find much. But perhaps just as he’s about to give up on his search and report back to the others he spots something in an upstairs fireplace. Sifting the object from the ash he discovers it’s a book. Most of the crumbling pages have been burned away but the cover is still barely readable: *“The Adventures of Lord Magnus and the Lady of Cups[sup]1[/sup].” Perhaps this was discarded or used as kindling by squatters?
By evening there is a crowd of perhaps two hundred peasants gathered outside Venora. Sir Harrow directs them south and they begin their march to Ironhall, the party following alongside. The days pass quickly and, mercifully, the traveling host does not encounter Mist. On the evening of the sixth day after leaving Ironhall (the party must move slower to account for the large numbers of men on foot) the party and their peasant accompaniment have returned to the seat of the Greyhorn Mountains. The party meets with Melanaeus in his audience chambers.
“We’ve brought about two hundred heads. We could have gathered more but we thought it best not to delay the keep’s reinforcement, m’lord.” Says Sir Harrow.
“Of course, of course.” The Lord Ironhall is aloof, his mind elsewhere. After a long silence he directs his unseeing gaze upon the party gathered before him. “Sir Paul?” The partymembers give one another uncomfortable looks.
“D’Bleum wasn’t there, m’lord.”
“Ah…”
The doors of the chamber are thrown open and the butler scurries in, bowing as he approaches the huge obsidian throne. “M’lord. Sir Keiron has returned!” Behind him stumbles in a tall, thin man with a bushy, dirty beard and short hair. He is wearing sackcloth rags and is blanketed with dirt and mud. His skin is covered in bruises, cuts, open sores and partially-healed burns. He attempts to take a knee at the foot of his lord’s throne but collapses onto all fours instead. He is exhausted and obviously weakened. Sir Harrow rushes by his side and helps him to his feet. “What happened to you?!” He demands.
Ricnan can’t see his returned knight but he shows a mix of surprise and concern. “Keiron? Where have you been?”
1 - The tales of Lord Magnus and the Lady of Cups are a series of folk tales [del]ripped off of[/del] similar to the real-world Arthur and Grail Quest myths.
“I’ll be fine. I think I’ll be fine.” Keiron says. “You might want to get a healer. But later! There are more important things right now.”
“My lord, forgive the intrusion. We have a lot to discuss. I had a run in with Lady Shedlund on the way back from Whitewall. No, before you say anything, it was completely by accident. I wasn’t working at the time, I swear.” Keiron winces as he pushes himself to his knees. “A dark wind blows, my lord. I think Ironhall is in danger.”
“Indeed it is, my boy.” The old baron leans forward in his towering throne, looming over the battered knight.
“Primrose did this to you?!” Sir Harrow is scandalized. “M’lord,” he directs his attention back to Ironhall, “we have that weasel Delacroix lounging in a suite! We need to repay this outrage!”
Ricnan considers this for a moment. “No.” He shakes his head and leans back. “We will do no such thing. Our honor is all we have left.”
“But m’lord-”
“Enough!” Ironhall shows a rare frustration.
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Now, Alexander.” The Lord Ironhall is referring to Keiron. “Tell me, what have you learned?”
“My lord, I was returning from Whitewall just as ordered. Lady Alana sends her regards, by the way. We had a very productive discussion on trade between our cities and how we may…” Keiron rubs a forearm across his brow. "I think you likely were not asking about what I learned at Whitewall.
"I wish I had more for you regarding Shedlund. I stopped there with my men on the way back here. We were received warmly enough, I had planned to rest there and gather supplies for the final journey home. I… overheard something that may not have been intended for my ears. Truthfully I did not get enough to be of much use. But the Baroness was most certainly discussing a plot against Ironhall. What little I caught between her and Wil… Wilfred?, certainly a plot against you. They caught me eavesdropping right then. Not one of my best moments, I’m afraid.
“Lady Primrose took me prisoner and confined me to her dungeons. Ron, Joren, and Iden were killed, I fear. I have not seen any of them. That was weeks ago, I don’t know how long exactly. They were tough in their interrogation but not cruel. most of this,” Keiron waves his arm around himself to indicate his injuries, "was from escaping. I got here as quickly as possible.
“I think I only caught part of it. But Shedlund is definitely plotting against you. War, maybe, some other scheme perhaps. But I did catch Mildred’s name. Is she okay?”
Cyrus chuckles under his breath, upon hearing the name.
“Faramonds,” Ricnan steeples his fingers. “My trust in you was correct. Your story has been corroborated.”
“M’lady has returned to her sister.” Ricnan calls for a pair of servant boys who prod at Keiron’s injuries with damp rags.
The Lord Ironhall rises from his seat and begins descending the steep steps of black glass. Harrow and Keiron step forward to help their blind master down the rest of the way. “Bring in the map.” The baron snaps his fingers towards where he knows one of his guards to be and a few moments later a massive rug is brought forward. The party backs up to give room and the rug is unfurled across the floor; it is a large map of Pordeaux. “I have sent riders to Alnpass and Ibene.” The blind baron uncannily prods both points on the map correctly with the heavy pommel of the weapon he bears by the handle. “The former is a greatly deteriorated land. We can’t expect much from them. The latter has long been an ally of Ironhall. I’m confident we can expect aid from them shortly.”
“If they haven’t been bought by Shedlund.” Offers Harrow.
“Do not insult their name with such talk.”
“As you say, m’lord.”
“We need to fortify the keep and prepare for a siege.”
“With all respect m’lord, I think the only chance of defending our population centers is to engage her on the field. Here.” Harrow crouches and points a finger just beyond the edge of the Greatwood, in the rocky Brayers region where the party encountered Mildred. “While our main force is preparing in Ironhall we can move here and set up positions at the mouth of a valley.”
Ricnan contemplates this. “So far from home, Harrow? Her force may be in the Greatwood as we speak.”
“We have to try. It’s the nearest natural barrier that we can make good use of.”
Cutter interrupts the noblemen. “You kiddin’ me? I’m sure I ain’t privy to the secrets o’ battle you folk learn playin’ wargames but this ain’t how I’d do it.”
“You insolent dog.” Harrow rises, facing Cutter.
“Hold, Harrow.” Ricnan lifts a hand. “Who are you?”
“Cutter, m’lord.”
“And you are a soldier for the Faramonds?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“He’s mercenary scum, m’lord.” Harrow offers.
“Look, you’ve got the Greatwood, don’ ye? That’s ambush city, mate.” Cutter explains to Harrow.
Ricnan and Harrow both seem contemplative. The Lord Ironhall looks towards the party. “What ideas do you have? Now is the time, my friends.”
“You can rebuild farms and cottages,” Cyrus muses. “I’d defend the fortress. It’s what it was built for.”
“While that is true,” Baldur respectfully agrees with Mosier, “farms and cottages are not always so easy to rebuild. Once they are gone, if the land is not cooperative, it can be almost impossible to get started again.” Baldur turns and looks to his companions. “Something I believe we all know well…” His voice trails off, his eyes seemingly looking somewhere far away…
Suddenly, Baldur snaps out of his haze. "Lord Ironhall, may I recommend a plan? If Shedlund’s forces have not yet entered the Greatwood, then we can meet them in Brayers, as Sir Harrow suggested. But that is not all. We can hide a large portion of our forces in the woods, beyond their line of sight. The Shedlund forces should not be too hard to goad into attacking, where-upon we strike. That should take out a good chunk of their forces, evening the playing field.
If at this time, the enemy army is still too vast to overcome in traditional combat, we still have the option of retreating into the woods. From there, the choice whether or not to engage in ambush warfare is indeed available. Whether it is right or honorable, 'tis hard to say. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Furthermore, the manner in which this war has been precipitated is far from honorable. It would be no great loss to reputation to end it in the same."
During the silence that procludes Baldur’s unexpected and uncharacteristic verbosity, he walks over to Henry and whispers to him, “Do you think we should offer the services of our friend mage at this time?”
:Sohan will give this “Keiron” medical treatment when the time is right:
Can someone provide me a link to the world map we were given? Thanks.
Check the bottom of the first post in the thread ^^
Alas, my strengths lie more in strategizing when it comes to people, not battle. However, many of my party are veterans of multiple battles, and I trust their judgement in these matters explicitly. Even Cutter, here. His methods might not always be ideal, and his personality can certainly be off-putting, but he’s more than capable in battle.
I don’t see why not. We should use any resource at our disposal here. Besides, if the rumors we heard from Mildred are true, something tells me Ironhall isn’t going to be all that opposed to magic being used in his service.
“Baldur’s got the right of it,” grunts Hrothgar, "dependin’ what we’re up against an’ what we can field. But for sure, trees help keep you from bein’ gull-feathered if the other side’s got archers, aye, and the thicker a forest gets, the worse for any horse, which is all to the good if you’re outmatched that way too.
“I ain’t too proud to look over our peasantry an’ see what we can muster. I’ll get to it, if you want it done.”
*Hrothgar is escorted by a soldier into town, where Ironhall’s forces are mustering. A pair of yeomen help him take inventory of the men. There are: *
[ul][li]Approximately 150 head of men-at-arms[sup]1[/sup]; lightly armored, shield-bearing spearmen. These men are also trained to use longbows.[/li][li]Approximately 700 head of conscripts; untrained, unarmored and lightly armed (spears, clubs, short swords, the occasional pitchfork).[/li][li]Approximately 50 head of light cavalry; lightly armored, mounted and armed with spears.[/li][li]Approximately 20 head of heavy cavalry; armored, mounted and armed with lances and short swords.[/ul][/li]
1 - Men-at-arms are the backbone of a true fighting force. They are the trained peasantry that defend a noble’s lands, though not all men-at-arms are on duty at any given time. Such men make up the ranks of the yeomen and castle guards.
Additional note: There are also 50 halberds available to be used by the men-at-arms. But any man-at-arms armed with a halberd must forego his shield.
Cyrus, to the group - “I spoke my piece. Let me know when the fighting starts.”
To Hrothgar - “Save some money for a horse strong enough to carry all the weapons your cursed axe claims.” Cyrus chuckles humorlessly.
To Choke - “Round up the extra animals and the salvaged weapons. We’re going to the market.”
(Assuming Henry and Baldur agree, Cyrus will attempt to sell the salvaged items and horses acquired during the adventure.)
To Cyrus: “That sounds fine with me and B-,” he catches himself. “That sounds fine with me.”
Turning back to Lord Ironhall, “Oh, and one more thing before I forget. May I also humbly offer the services of our court mage.” He gestures politely towards Naimar. If he is inclined to speak, attention is turned towards him at the moment.