Tana primarily remains to herself as night falls, opting to venture a bit further from the group to collect a good share of herbs before returning to settle for a meal. She spares Cainneach and Famh curious looks throughout the night and briefly questions Salt when the hounds breaks away from the two of them for a moment.
As the morning comes, she acknowledges Thatch and Ori, but lingers as the two go off to find food. She beckons to Salt when it seems Famh and Cainneach are taking a moment to speak with one another and opts to play with the hound until Cainneach calls upon him again.
Hearing Almeric speak in the distance, she furrows her brows in consideration and casts a glance at the rest of the companions. None were quite what she'd imagine 'deputy' material to be, but she would likely toss Thatch's hat into the ring when asked.
Goods are loaded and stowed and supplies are pack back aboard ship the crew set their shoulders to work breaking her free of the sand and pebbles and climbing aboard is a cold and salty endeavour.
Once aboard and settled the Linden is rowed out until she can turn and head back for open water, the repairs hold well and the ship makes good progress around the Cape and the Baron seems pleased that they came across no ships bound out of or for Brymstone.
After some days the coast becomes less wild and farmland and pastures can be seen dotting the lowlands and hills, and eventually the Linden enters Beltayne Bay itself.
The bay becomes a fjord and finally a river mouth; with the paired fortresses of Crawdor and Morden squat on either side of the river mouth like ancient stony toads. Granite walls extend out someway into the river forming a chokepoint where catapults and trebuchets could make short work of a ship forced into the narrow gap.
Looking ahead and beyond them toward Beltayne itself lies the ancient battlefield of Pertbough Field and the haunting mist-choked Linnings Haugh on the north bank.
Looking to the city itself you can just see the ancient Sewark Keep where Duke Carnasse winters, the great square walls of which lie on the northern side of Trone Gait and beyond it the steeple of St Marys or NaomhMhairis as it is known locally.
The Linden entered the Gillburn River and towards Gorbaldis, the great granite walled harbour and shipyards of the city linked to the main city by a high stone bridge of ancient work.
Sailing slowly through the gap without incident or inspection and down the river until it comes level with the bridge and the quays that cluster about it, the Linden was tied alongside in mere minutes and upon the shore stood a number of people.
Most seemed to be shoremen ready to assist with unloading but there was also a heavily bearded and broad knight dressed in maille with a long plaid cloak drawn about his shoulders.
... ... ... I suppose I'd better ask Myrrdin if he can look at the thing whenever he has a free moment."
As she regards the needle and a drop of her blood runs down the metal a word comes to her mind....snàthad..
As she almost involuntarily speaks the word the needle between her fingers writhes for a moment as if alive and blossoms into a sharp and shining dearg.
Famh's eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. "Crivvens!," she exclaims. "That's a greater glamour than I'd guessed! And useful, if you're caught some night without sgeain dubh or dearg by a bandit. "Twould be a nasty surprise for the rogue." Her brow furrows a moment as she tries to recall the exact pronunciation of the word that floated into her half-dreaming mind. From her beloved stories, all sorts of memories are coming back of the dire consequences which were said to follow from a misspoken incantation. When she is sure she has the inflection just right, she repeats the word cautiously but with no hesitation in her voice or mind: "Snàthad."
The Linden entered the Gillburn River and towards Gorbaldis, the great granite walled harbour and shipyards of the city linked to the main city by a high stone bridge of ancient work.
Sailing slowly through the gap without incident or inspection and down the river until it comes level with the bridge and the quays that cluster about it, the Linden was tied alongside in mere minutes and upon the shore stood a number of people.
Most seemed to be shoremen ready to assist with unloading but there was also a heavily bearded and broad knight dressed in maille with a long plaid cloak drawn about his shoulders.
As the Linden sails into port, Famh has been looking about her with small movements of the head. She seems curiously subdued. "I don't remember hearing much about Duke Carnasse when I was a girl.," she whispers to Cainneach. "I'm not sure if Laird Erek didn't get on well with him, or if they simply hadn't much occasion to deal with each other those years; but all I ever knew about this place ye can learn by looking about. That it's on a river; and that there's a great strong bridge and keep of ancient work where the laird dwells at seasons like this one -- when only madfolk like us are abroad on land or sea." She gives a small laugh at her own joke, but even that is rather subdued. And as the sailors and loingseoirmen begin hauling on the final ropes to bring the Linden to her mooring, she falls silent. Her eyes appear to be modestly averted and she tries to seem like she isn't gazing at anyone in particular, but in fact she watches the strange knight carefully from under her brows to learn whatever she can.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(So much activity, awesome! But I have to go to bed - close - to on time for a change, so no wall of text tonight ...)
Cainneach squirms away from the sandy hound, wondering what he could have been up to, digging around. He's thankful to see Tana spending some time with Salt. Even though she was often aloof, Cainneach liked and trusted her, and Salt certainly did as well. Maybe she knew where Salt had been digging around ...
The forester's attention is again taken by Famh as she lets out a painful exclamation. Cainneach is in the middle of nodding in agreement that consulting Myrrdin seems prudent, when Famh utters a strange word and the needle is suddenly a dagger! "That's an odd thing, useful to be sure. Maybe keep an eye on that wound, though, small though it may be. Show that to Tana so she can take a look, in case there's something more to that needle."
As he looks over the dagger and Famh's delicate fingers, Almeric's request is issued. Cainneach looks at Famh, wondering what she's thinking on the matter. As far as Cainneach is concerned, he trusts all of them, aside from possibly Fergus if he's in one of his ... inattentive? states. Who would be the best to lead, though? It seemed like Ori had the most experience in the group, and he was the one who stood with Cainneach in trying to avoid the dreadful ship that carried them back to the Linden. Although it turned out well, Cainneach was still shaken by the encounter and would prefer it not be repeated. So, his vote will go with Ori for now, Cainneach silently resolves. Hopefully that won't upset any of the group ... "What do you think of Almeric's request, Famh? Do you see an obvious deputy among us?", he inquires deferentially.
Speaking of leadership, Cainneach's rumbling stomach concurs that Ori has the right idea at the moment. The forester stands, brushes off the sand, helps Famh to her feet, and heads with Thatch and the rest to find some food.
Cainneach does his best to help the dedicated and tireless crew with their work in readying and freeing the Linden from its sandy berth. Unfortunately, he again winds up wet and cold. Back to the pallets and soggy awning for the rest of their trip to Beltayne! Salt is similarly soaked, as there's not much anyone can do to prevent it. They're lucky to get the hound back aboard at all. Given that he's already drenched, Cainneach goes out of his way to keep his companions as dry as possible, especially Famh and Ori, after their previous miserable experience. When they finally reach Beltayne, the forester looks on in wonder at the fortifications marking their path upstream. He'd certainly never seen anything like this. The Duke must be an impressive man, indeed. That sentiment is reinforced by his appearance at the docks. Especially after Famh's remarks, Cainneach is curious as to the Duke's thoughts on our Baron and his proposal. He will keep an eye on them and attempt to read lips where possible.
Famh groans silently, a sinking feeling beginning at the pit of her stomach. She knew she ought to have turned her head left instead of right just then, but she didn't; and she thinks she caught a suspicious gleam, perhaps even one of annoyance, under the Thulish knight's brows even as she was quickly averting her gaze. She is afraid it wasn't quickly enough; and that she's offended the knight with her most impertinent curtiosity. The incident combines with her recent remark to Cainneachto remind her how little she truly does know about either Carnasse or his duchy; she suspects that the knight is a liegeman of the Duke's charged with keeping a watch on the quays, but even this is only a guess. She may have returned to Thuland with this journey, but she has seldom felt farther from home.
In fact, though she would sooner have torn out her own lights and liver from below than to have missed the chance to learn how much Cainneach loves her, she otherwise isn['t quite sure why she came along in the first place, or why either of them are aboard the Linden at this moment in the first place. Or, for that matter, why any of her friends in the retinue had to go through this increasingly unpleasant ordeal in the FIRST first place. But one suspicion that floats to her mind, if true, is such that she feels it ought to be dealt with promptly. Giving her newly bagged forester a little squeeze of the hand for reassurance, she says to him, "It's just occurred to me, dearest. We two are the only Thules in the retinue, so some might think we'd be the likeliest to have been here before. Well, I've already told you how little I know of Beltayn, and you didn't mention it when you were telling me of your past either. I'm still not exactly clear as to why the Baron wanted our retinue to come along on this trip; but it's just occurred to me that one of the reasons might have been because of us. You know, that perhaps he hoped we could give him some local knowledge, or some insight into the Duke he's come to treat with? We'd best go ask our knight, I think. I'd hope he would have talked with Baron Aldred and learned what he wants of us in at least a little more detail by now."
... ... ...
... ... ...
"And ... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm .... I'm not so just precisely all that easy about that other knight. I'm afraid he, um, might think I was, um, ... watching him.
... ... ... Just a little!... ... ...
And...and I meant no harm by it, really I didn't, I was just curious ..." Her voice trails off awkwardly as even Salt gives her a look that seems to say, "Oh, Famh ... ! *<sigh>* " If his anatomy allowed for the possibility of his adding a facepalm ... or in his case, a facepaw ... she imagines he would have done that as well.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric carefully observed the impressive strategic defences of Beltayne, from the sea to the the citadel. The twin fortresses of Crawdor and Morden, guarding the natural straight at the head of the fjord, makes it impossible to attack by sea without taking excessive losses. A hard learned defence taught by the Selentine invasion a thousand years ago and triggered by constant raids Mercanian Reavers over the last 100 years. This was a land that had experienced constant hardship, attack and threat of invasion for centuries, from the Selentines, Mercanians, Albish and their neighbour Thulish Clans. The ancient battlefield of Pertburgh Field acted as a reminder and memorial of the sacrifice these people had made. If it was difficult to attack by sea, the landward route to Beltayne was equally well defended with stout forts, natural hills and dales and by the lion hearted Thulish. Surely, this was one of the best defended cities Almeric had ever seen and comparable to any in the Western Lands in strategic importance. Now Almeric understood Aldred's interest in Duke Carnasse.
Duke Carnasse commanded a vast amont of fertile farmland which could sustain a large population. Natural resourcs of wood, wool, iron and copper has enabled the Duke to build a 'modern' society from his ancient roots. Beltayne also controlled the Cape Calogen, which allowing access to and from Katorheim and the summer trade routes north to Glissom and Cornumbria. Katorheim is the royal seat of Thuland, the official residience and demesne of the king. The relationship between the King of Thuland and the Duke of Carnasse has always been a close one, whomever the incumbents were. Traditionally, the King granted the Duke the title of Lord Protector, as the Duke literally protects Katorheim and the whole East Coast of Thuland from attack. To ally with the Duke, Aldred's security, influence and prosperity would increase ten fold! Almeric wondered what the Duke would want in return?
Turning to his scribe, "Fergus, please make some notes on the topography of Beltane Bay. This is a fascinating place and one of the bets strategic defences I have seen." Almeric wanted to keep Fergus busy at work and apart from the others, to give everyone time to cool down before they could have the full debrief he had promised.
Then, to the whole Retinue, Almerics gives some words of encouragement. "Fahm, please keep the the booty close to you, wherever you are. We cannot allow anyone to touch those wands. Everyone, please follow the Baron's lead, observe and listen to what goes on. Speak when you must and only directly to me. Much depends on the successful outcome of this mission." Almeric was aware that there had not been an assertive response to his request for a Deputy. One vote for Thatch and one vote for Ori. Thatch had much potential but was very young. Ori had much experience but was a little jaded. Very well, it was time to act.
"Ori, I hereby promote you to the rank of Sergeant-at-Arms within the Household of Baron Aldred, with all the rights and privileges of this rank. As such you are the Retinue Deputy. Please accept my apology for putting an undue strain on you earlier and your loyalty is deeply appreciated. Well done!" Almeric claps Ori on the back and gives him a gold crown, as was tradition. He leaves them and goes off to inform the Baron of this change.
===
When the Linden docks at the riverside quay, Almeric has prepared himself properly. Groomed and cleaned, wearing his full raiment of the Worshipful Order of St Withan of Barada. he is the first passenger to disembark after the crew tying off lines. He strides confidently towards the bearded knight in full maille, dressed in plaid. Stopping a few yards away, Almeric takes a knee.
"I am Almeric Dayne, Household Knight to the Baron Aldred of Gorham. It is my honour to meet you, your Grace." Almeric remains kneeing until given leave by the Duke and will then introduce the Baron formally, before stepping behind his master.
Ori found himself missing the smooth nature of that ghost ship as he empties his personal chun bucket over the side of the Linden. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the crew and captain, but you couldn't beat the way that boat rode. As another wave of sickness washed over him, Almeric started in on one of his speaches. Probably going to tell us Ferg is going to be his next in command. Makes sense as the man takes down all Almeric wishes and would be the most accustomed to his wishes.
Ori was shocked to say the least at the announcement of not only be Retine Deputy but promoted too? Dumbstruck, and fighting the next veiwing of his last meal, Ori didn't say a word in response to Almeric's congratulatory pat and coin. Ori stares down at the coin in his hand as Almeric takes leave to do something that Ori didn't hear. Was this some trick? Why me? I'm just a big circus clown with a big stick, what do I know about having rank and privileges. He was good at keeping others safe from a distance not being the one center stage. Maybe Almeric appreciated being questioned more then Ori would have guessed? Nah that can't be it. Well position and title be damned, Ori wasn't going to change who he was.
He felt at the mask under his tunic. For some reason unbeknownst to even Ori himself, he kept the mask on his person always now, not even in his pack on his back, but hidden just above his hip. The same hip that he keeps his note in his belt sash. He has started to put his on the mask instinctively instead of his note. Ori grins a bit as he watches the rest start to file off the ship realizing that instead of looking like he just places his hand on his hip as he used to, he now holds on his back like an old man with aches. He fills his bucket one last time before he attempts to deboard.
Famh's hands flitter about the neckline and shoulders of her earasaid, making any number of minute adjustments and fixes as she anxiously waits to see whether there will be any unfortunate consequences of her ill-timed inquisitiveness . Anyone who has traveled much in Thuland and had an opportunity to observe the general demeanor of her lairds towards the common folk they rule can well understand her concern; one learned commentator has summed it up by saying that the lives of the crofters and boumen are of little more importance in the eyes of their lords than the livestock whose capture forms such a mainstay of those same lords' summer entertainment. But only Cainneachunderstands all the subtleties that make his heart catch in his throat every time he sees her adjust the little needle she has both secured and concealed by continuing to use it as a collar pin. Only he knows the reason behind the endless hours she spent the night before, when she knew they would be arriving in Beltayn next day, obsessively adjusting and re-adjusting the position of that little sliver of steel until her collar lay perfectly smooth and flat.
None of the other companions have likely been to Thuland enough ... except perhaps the well-traveled and well-bred Capellar ... to notice the distinction that it is generally only the gently born Thulish woman who wears the earasaid. Women of Famh's class are much more simply clad, sometimes having little more to protect themselves from the elements than their plaids and a simple smock (one reason the full Thulish plaid is such an ample and sturdy garment; a pressing one, indeed, given the biting cold of Thuland's winters). From what she has shared with him of her life, Cainneach knows she would have had time at her mother's knee to learn how to use her needle ere her growing strangeness and the common folk's superstitious fear drove them both forth. He admires how well she has altered and how inconspicuously patched her dress; and even his eyes had missed the fact it was not originally hers until he'd discovered a particular reason to look upon her more closely ;) But of course there was only so much she could do with the materials available to her at the time. Although the strange knight is a good distance away and may be unable to see the finer details that would give her away, Famh's borrowed plumage is unlikely to withstand the closer inspection of any native-born Thule, be the reason of that inspection what it may. He can almost hear the wheels turning in her mind as she guesses what her share of the retinue's recent gains might amount to, and compares it to the astronomical figure she would have imagined as the price of a new earasaid in the days of her far-off girlhood. Besides, she now has a bright gleam to bear her up. As unlikely as she believes she is to be able to afford it, she is already dreaming a little about the moment she'll ask Cainneach how he likes her new dress.
===========================
(OOC: the fruits of further online research. I've lost the URL, but I ran across a blog which discussed among other things the finer cultural details of Thuland and specifically Beltayn. When I dressed Famh in the thing, all I knew was that the Google at Delphi prophesied that it was a Scottish type of dress. I'll be glad to start an archaeolgoical dig through my papers to discover if I wrote down that site, if desired, unless Damian_May or Bonivant happen to recognize which one it might be)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Then, to the whole Retinue, Almerics gives some words of encouragement. "Fahm, please keep the the booty close to you, wherever you are. We cannot allow anyone to touch those wands. Everyone, please follow the Baron's lead, observe and listen to what goes on. Speak when you must and only directly to me. Much depends on the successful outcome of this mission." Almeric was aware that there had not been an assertive response to his request for a Deputy. One vote for Thatch and one vote for Ori. Thatch had much potential but was very young. Ori had much experience but was a little jaded. Very well, it was time to act
... ... ....
When the Linden docks at the riverside quay, Almeric has prepared himself properly. Groomed and cleaned, wearing his full raiment of the Worshipful Order of St Withan of Barada. he is the first passenger to disembark after the crew tying off lines. He strides confidently towards the bearded knight in full maille, dressed in plaid. Stopping a few yards away, Almeric takes a knee.
"I am Almeric Dayne, Household Knight to the Baron Aldred of Gorham. It is my honour to meet you, your Grace." Almeric remains kneeing until given leave by the Duke and will then introduce the Baron formally, before stepping behind his master.
The ice in Famh's stomach only increases as she watches the deferential manner in which Sir Almeric greets the silent figure in maille waiting to greet them. Oh, Voice of God, if she'd been staring at the Duke himself... !!!
And what did the Capellar mean by, "the booty",she was supposed to take care of? She certainly hopes she left the cursed staves and everything else tainted by the moon demon safely in Myrddin's hands, and she'd thought Fergus had been entrusted the rest. She certainly doesn't want to make it worse for the poor fellow and rub it in that even Sir Almeric doesn't fully trust him anymore. After a moment, though, she shrugs to herself. She can always talk to the knight later and straighten out this misunderstanding. At least he's not shown any tendency to leave your head grinning on a spike on his castle wall for breathing his air too soon after his lordly lungs had exhaled it, as one of the more notorious lairds was whispered once to have done.
(OOC: Is Myrrdin travelling with us? I thought he was not, although so much has happened over so long a time I may not be remembering it correctly. Also, if you find that URL, I'd really like to see it. The materials I've found aren't extremely detailed, so Cainneach's backstory is a little patchy. Now on to the RP, responding in order of the posts ...)
To Famh ... Cainneach squeezes her hand back and looks at her with a thoughtful expression. "You make a very good point, love. It may sound a bit daft, but I dinnae make that connection. My time in Thuland feels so long off that it's almost a foreign land to me, even though it's my home. I'd hope that Almeric knows enough of you and I to recognize that we'd not be the best sources of information on the goings on here these days. Either way, we've both served the Daynes and the Baron well and we can't know things we haven't been there for. And all that worry about looking hard at the Duke, or at least I think it's the Duke, leave that behind as well. I'm sure a man as impressive as he is looked at all the time! Why if I were him, I'd probably be offended if we weren't paying him any mind!" Cainneach is certainly naive regarding the proper treatment of nobles, aside from Almeric's frequent reminders not talk to them, but he feels sure that looking at them must be okay. He gives her a playful smile, hoping to brighten her mood.
To Almeric/Ori ... Cainneach is privately delighted to hear that Ori's been selected as the Deputy, but also surprised. As far as he knew, no larger discussion had taken place, nor was any nomination relayed to Almeric. If true, that meant it likely that Almeric had selected Ori with his own judgement. Which further implied that neither he nor Ori would face any repercussions for their hesitation in boarding Almeric's ghost ship! Or at least Cainneach hoped that would be the case. He'd found his personal logic didn't always hold in the dealings with nobles and clergy. The promotion was especially nice for Ori, given how much he'd suffered aboard the Linden. From the look on the big man's face, he was as surprised as Cainneach was. Cainneach gives Ori a moment to compose himself after a bout of wretching, then approaches and also gives him a clap on the back, saying, "Well-deserved, my large friend! I hoped it would be you and I'm glad that Almeric had the good sense to put his trust in you. I've got your back." Cainneach nods to Ori with a smile, then turns to gather Salt and wait his turn to disembark. He's curious to observe the reactions of the rest of the party to Ori's elevation.
To Fahm ... "Oh, and I should have mentioned it sooner, but you are looking particularly lovely this morning. I'm trying to get in the habit of offering regular compliments, but I'm just a quiet lad from the forest. You're more likely to catch me stealing glances than to hear me saying how I feel, but I'll do better! I know you've fancied up for the occasion of arriving in Beltayne, but I'll keep pretending it's just for me." Cainneach blushes slightly and gives her hand another squeeze, fully aware of the many people on the docks casting their gazes toward the ship.
Famh's eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. "Crivvens!," she exclaims. "That's a greater glamour than I'd guessed! And useful, if you're caught some night without sgeain dubh or dearg by a bandit. "Twould be a nasty surprise for the rogue." Her brow furrows a moment as she tries to recall the exact pronunciation of the word that floated into her half-dreaming mind. From her beloved stories, all sorts of memories are coming back of the dire consequences which were said to follow from a misspoken incantation. When she is sure she has the inflection just right, she repeats the word cautiously but with no hesitation in her voice or mind: "Snàthad."
As the Linden sails into port, Famh has been looking about her with small movements of the head. She seems curiously subdued. "I don't remember hearing much about Duke Carnasse when I was a girl.," she whispers to Cainneach. "I'm not sure if Laird Erek didn't get on well with him, or if they simply hadn't much occasion to deal with each other those years; but all I ever knew about this place ye can learn by looking about. That it's on a river; and that there's a great strong bridge and keep of ancient work where the laird dwells at seasons like this one -- when only madfolk like us are abroad on land or sea." She gives a small laugh at her own joke, but even that is rather subdued. And as the sailors and loingseoirmen begin hauling on the final ropes to bring the Linden to her mooring, she falls silent. Her eyes appear to be modestly averted and she tries to seem like she isn't gazing at anyone in particular, but in fact she watches the strange knight carefully from under her brows to learn whatever she can.
===========================
Investigation 10
Insight 9
Deception 5
Tired from travel and taking in so many new sights Famh can determine little of use.
(So much activity, awesome! But I have to go to bed - close - to on time for a change, so no wall of text tonight ...)
Cainneach squirms away from the sandy hound, wondering what he could have been up to, digging around. He's thankful to see Tana spending some time with Salt. Even though she was often aloof, Cainneach liked and trusted her, and Salt certainly did as well. Maybe she knew where Salt had been digging around ...
The forester's attention is again taken by Famh as she lets out a painful exclamation. Cainneach is in the middle of nodding in agreement that consulting Myrrdin seems prudent, when Famh utters a strange word and the needle is suddenly a dagger! "That's an odd thing, useful to be sure. Maybe keep an eye on that wound, though, small though it may be. Show that to Tana so she can take a look, in case there's something more to that needle."
As he looks over the dagger and Famh's delicate fingers, Almeric's request is issued. Cainneach looks at Famh, wondering what she's thinking on the matter. As far as Cainneach is concerned, he trusts all of them, aside from possibly Fergus if he's in one of his ... inattentive? states. Who would be the best to lead, though? It seemed like Ori had the most experience in the group, and he was the one who stood with Cainneach in trying to avoid the dreadful ship that carried them back to the Linden. Although it turned out well, Cainneach was still shaken by the encounter and would prefer it not be repeated. So, his vote will go with Ori for now, Cainneach silently resolves. Hopefully that won't upset any of the group ... "What do you think of Almeric's request, Famh? Do you see an obvious deputy among us?", he inquires deferentially.
Speaking of leadership, Cainneach's rumbling stomach concurs that Ori has the right idea at the moment. The forester stands, brushes off the sand, helps Famh to her feet, and heads with Thatch and the rest to find some food.
Cainneach does his best to help the dedicated and tireless crew with their work in readying and freeing the Linden from its sandy berth. Unfortunately, he again winds up wet and cold. Back to the pallets and soggy awning for the rest of their trip to Beltayne! Salt is similarly soaked, as there's not much anyone can do to prevent it. They're lucky to get the hound back aboard at all. Given that he's already drenched, Cainneach goes out of his way to keep his companions as dry as possible, especially Famh and Ori, after their previous miserable experience. When they finally reach Beltayne, the forester looks on in wonder at the fortifications marking their path upstream. He'd certainly never seen anything like this. The Duke must be an impressive man, indeed. That sentiment is reinforced by his appearance at the docks. Especially after Famh's remarks, Cainneach is curious as to the Duke's thoughts on our Baron and his proposal. He will keep an eye on them and attempt to read lips where possible.
Cainneach keeps his eyes peeled but his keen senses note that a number of the longshoremen standing near the knight are actually concealing weapons and armour beneath their cloaks, and that the Duke seems aware of this and unconcerned. The Duke gives the slightest of smiles as he sees Baron Aldred appear on deck and head towards the gap to step onto the quay.
Famh groans silently, a sinking feeling beginning at the pit of her stomach. She knew she ought to have turned her head left instead of right just then, but she didn't; and she thinks she caught a suspicious gleam, perhaps even one of annoyance, under the Thulish knight's brows even as she was quickly averting her gaze. She is afraid it wasn't quickly enough; and that she's offended the knight with her most impertinent curtiosity. The incident combines with her recent remark to Cainneachto remind her how little she truly does know about either Carnasse or his duchy; she suspects that the knight is a liegeman of the Duke's charged with keeping a watch on the quays, but even this is only a guess. She may have returned to Thuland with this journey, but she has seldom felt farther from home.
In fact, though she would sooner have torn out her own lights and liver from below than to have missed the chance to learn how much Cainneach loves her, she otherwise isn['t quite sure why she came along in the first place, or why either of them are aboard the Linden at this moment in the first place. Or, for that matter, why any of her friends in the retinue had to go through this increasingly unpleasant ordeal in the FIRST first place. But one suspicion that floats to her mind, if true, is such that she feels it ought to be dealt with promptly. Giving her newly bagged forester a little squeeze of the hand for reassurance, she says to him, "It's just occurred to me, dearest. We two are the only Thules in the retinue, so some might think we'd be the likeliest to have been here before. Well, I've already told you how little I know of Beltayn, and you didn't mention it when you were telling me of your past either. I'm still not exactly clear as to why the Baron wanted our retinue to come along on this trip; but it's just occurred to me that one of the reasons might have been because of us. You know, that perhaps he hoped we could give him some local knowledge, or some insight into the Duke he's come to treat with? We'd best go ask our knight, I think. I'd hope he would have talked with Baron Aldred and learned what he wants of us in at least a little more detail by now."
"And ... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm .... I'm not so just precisely all that easy about that other knight. I'm afraid he, um, might think I was, um, ... watching him.
... ... ... Just a little!... ... ...
And...and I meant no harm by it, really I didn't, I was just curious ..." Her voice trails off awkwardly as even Salt gives her a look that seems to say, "Oh, Famh ... ! *<sigh>* " If his anatomy allowed for the possibility of his adding a facepalm ... or in his case, a facepaw ... she imagines he would have done that as well.
Famhs enquiry of Almeric during the journey had been answered in the likely affirmative, though the Knight admitted the Baron had not spoken directly on it he was a shrewd man who had made his own observations of the retinue.
Almeric carefully observed the impressive strategic defences of Beltayne, from the sea to the the citadel. The twin fortresses of Crawdor and Morden, guarding the natural straight at the head of the fjord, makes it impossible to attack by sea without taking excessive losses. A hard learned defence taught by the Selentine invasion a thousand years ago and triggered by constant raids Mercanian Reavers over the last 100 years. This was a land that had experienced constant hardship, attack and threat of invasion for centuries, from the Selentines, Mercanians, Albish and their neighbour Thulish Clans. The ancient battlefield of Pertburgh Field acted as a reminder and memorial of the sacrifice these people had made. If it was difficult to attack by sea, the landward route to Beltayne was equally well defended with stout forts, natural hills and dales and by the lion hearted Thulish. Surely, this was one of the best defended cities Almeric had ever seen and comparable to any in the Western Lands in strategic importance. Now Almeric understood Aldred's interest in Duke Carnasse.
Duke Carnasse commanded a vast amont of fertile farmland which could sustain a large population. Natural resourcs of wood, wool, iron and copper has enabled the Duke to build a 'modern' society from his ancient roots. Beltayne also controlled the Cape Calogen, which allowing access to and from Katorheim and the summer trade routes north to Glissom and Cornumbria. Katorheim is the royal seat of Thuland, the official residience and demesne of the king. The relationship between the King of Thuland and the Duke of Carnasse has always been a close one, whomever the incumbents were. Traditionally, the King granted the Duke the title of Lord Protector, as the Duke literally protects Katorheim and the whole East Coast of Thuland from attack. To ally with the Duke, Aldred's security, influence and prosperity would increase ten fold! Almeric wondered what the Duke would want in return?
Turning to his scribe, "Fergus, please make some notes on the topography of Beltane Bay. This is a fascinating place and one of the bets strategic defences I have seen." Almeric wanted to keep Fergus busy at work and apart from the others, to give everyone time to cool down before they could have the full debrief he had promised.
Then, to the whole Retinue, Almerics gives some words of encouragement. "Fahm, please keep the the booty close to you, wherever you are. We cannot allow anyone to touch those wands. Everyone, please follow the Baron's lead, observe and listen to what goes on. Speak when you must and only directly to me. Much depends on the successful outcome of this mission." Almeric was aware that there had not been an assertive response to his request for a Deputy. One vote for Thatch and one vote for Ori. Thatch had much potential but was very young. Ori had much experience but was a little jaded. Very well, it was time to act.
"Ori, I hereby promote you to the rank of Sergeant-at-Arms within the Household of Baron Aldred, with all the rights and privileges of this rank. As such you are the Retinue Deputy. Please accept my apology for putting an undue strain on you earlier and your loyalty is deeply appreciated. Well done!" Almeric claps Ori on the back and gives him a gold crown, as was tradition. He leaves them and goes off to inform the Baron of this change.
===
When the Linden docks at the riverside quay, Almeric has prepared himself properly. Groomed and cleaned, wearing his full raiment of the Worshipful Order of St Withan of Barada. he is the first passenger to disembark after the crew tying off lines. He strides confidently towards the bearded knight in full maille, dressed in plaid. Stopping a few yards away, Almeric takes a knee.
"I am Almeric Dayne, Household Knight to the Baron Aldred of Gorham. It is my honour to meet you, your Grace." Almeric remains kneeing until given leave by the Duke and will then introduce the Baron formally, before stepping behind his master.
Baron Aldred slowed his step and nodded over Almerics head to Duke Carnasse, Duke Carnasse nodded and tapped Almeric once on the shoulder with a meaty finger.
" Aye, an honour to meet one of St Withans faithful.", the Duke drawled with a strange grin.
He then waited a moment for Almeric to withdraw before stepping forward to greet Baron Aldred......
Ori found himself missing the smooth nature of that ghost ship as he empties his personal chun bucket over the side of the Linden. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the crew and captain, but you couldn't beat the way that boat rode. As another wave of sickness washed over him, Almeric started in on one of his speaches. Probably going to tell us Ferg is going to be his next in command. Makes sense as the man takes down all Almeric wishes and would be the most accustomed to his wishes.
Ori was shocked to say the least at the announcement of not only be Retine Deputy but promoted too? Dumbstruck, and fighting the next veiwing of his last meal, Ori didn't say a word in response to Almeric's congratulatory pat and coin. Ori stares down at the coin in his hand as Almeric takes leave to do something that Ori didn't hear. Was this some trick? Why me? I'm just a big circus clown with a big stick, what do I know about having rank and privileges. He was good at keeping others safe from a distance not being the one center stage. Maybe Almeric appreciated being questioned more then Ori would have guessed? Nah that can't be it. Well position and title be damned, Ori wasn't going to change who he was.
He felt at the mask under his tunic. For some reason unbeknownst to even Ori himself, he kept the mask on his person always now, not even in his pack on his back, but hidden just above his hip. The same hip that he keeps his note in his belt sash. He has started to put his on the mask instinctively instead of his note. Ori grins a bit as he watches the rest start to file off the ship realizing that instead of looking like he just places his hand on his hip as he used to, he now holds on his back like an old man with aches. He fills his bucket one last time before he attempts to deboard.
With Oris departure the crew quickly begins off loading the ship and the longshoremen come forward to assist, Ori notes that four of the men stay exactly where they are....arrayed behind Duke Carnasse.
Famh's hands flitter about the neckline and shoulders of her earasaid, making any number of minute adjustments and fixes as she anxiously waits to see whether there will be any unfortunate consequences of her ill-timed inquisitiveness . Anyone who has traveled much in Thuland and had an opportunity to observe the general demeanor of her lairds towards the common folk they rule can well understand her concern; one learned commentator has summed it up by saying that the lives of the crofters and boumen are of little more importance in the eyes of their lords than the livestock whose capture forms such a mainstay of those same lords' summer entertainment. But only Cainneachunderstands all the subtleties that make his heart catch in his throat every time he sees her adjust the little needle she has both secured and concealed by continuing to use it as a collar pin. Only he knows the reason behind the endless hours she spent the night before, when she knew they would be arriving in Beltayn next day, obsessively adjusting and re-adjusting the position of that little sliver of steel until her collar lay perfectly smooth and flat.
None of the other companions have likely been to Thuland enough ... except perhaps the well-traveled and well-bred Capellar ... to notice the distinction that it is generally only the gently born Thulish woman who wears the earasaid. Women of Famh's class are much more simply clad, sometimes having little more to protect themselves from the elements than their plaids and a simple smock (one reason the full Thulish plaid is such an ample and sturdy garment; a pressing one, indeed, given the biting cold of Thuland's winters). From what she has shared with him of her life, Cainneach knows she would have had time at her mother's knee to learn how to use her needle ere her growing strangeness and the common folk's superstitious fear drove them both forth. He admires how well she has altered and how inconspicuously patched her dress; and even his eyes had missed the fact it was not originally hers until he'd discovered a particular reason to look upon her more closely ;) But of course there was only so much she could do with the materials available to her at the time. Although the strange knight is a good distance away and may be unable to see the finer details that would give her away, Famh's borrowed plumage is unlikely to withstand the closer inspection of any native-born Thule, be the reason of that inspection what it may. He can almost hear the wheels turning in her mind as she guesses what her share of the retinue's recent gains might amount to, and compares it to the astronomical figure she would have imagined as the price of a new earasaid in the days of her far-off girlhood. Besides, she now has a bright gleam to bear her up. As unlikely as she believes she is to be able to afford it, she is already dreaming a little about the moment she'll ask Cainneach how he likes her new dress.
The ice in Famh's stomach only increases as she watches the deferential manner in which Sir Almeric greets the silent figure in maille waiting to greet them. Oh, Voice of God, if she'd been staring at the Duke himself... !!!
And what did the Capellar mean by, "the booty",she was supposed to take care of? She certainly hopes she left the cursed staves and everything else tainted by the moon demon safely in Fergus hands who had also been entrusted with the rest. She certainly doesn't want to make it worse for the poor fellow and rub it in that even Sir Almeric doesn't fully trust him anymore. After a moment, though, she shrugs to herself. She can always talk to the knight later and straighten out this misunderstanding. At least he's not shown any tendency to leave your head grinning on a spike on his castle wall for breathing his air too soon after his lordly lungs had exhaled it, as one of the more notorious lairds was whispered once to have done.
To Famh ... Cainneach squeezes her hand back and looks at her with a thoughtful expression. "You make a very good point, love. It may sound a bit daft, but I dinnae make that connection. My time in Thuland feels so long off that it's almost a foreign land to me, even though it's my home. I'd hope that Almeric knows enough of you and I to recognize that we'd not be the best sources of information on the goings on here these days. Either way, we've both served the Daynes and the Baron well and we can't know things we haven't been there for. And all that worry about looking hard at the Duke, or at least I think it's the Duke, leave that behind as well. I'm sure a man as impressive as he is looked at all the time! Why if I were him, I'd probably be offended if we weren't paying him any mind!" Cainneach is certainly naive regarding the proper treatment of nobles, aside from Almeric's frequent reminders not talk to them, but he feels sure that looking at them must be okay. He gives her a playful smile, hoping to brighten her mood.
To Almeric/Ori ... Cainneach is privately delighted to hear that Ori's been selected as the Deputy, but also surprised. As far as he knew, no larger discussion had taken place, nor was any nomination relayed to Almeric. If true, that meant it likely that Almeric had selected Ori with his own judgement. Which further implied that neither he nor Ori would face any repercussions for their hesitation in boarding Almeric's ghost ship! Or at least Cainneach hoped that would be the case. He'd found his personal logic didn't always hold in the dealings with nobles and clergy. The promotion was especially nice for Ori, given how much he'd suffered aboard the Linden. From the look on the big man's face, he was as surprised as Cainneach was. Cainneach gives Ori a moment to compose himself after a bout of wretching, then approaches and also gives him a clap on the back, saying, "Well-deserved, my large friend! I hoped it would be you and I'm glad that Almeric had the good sense to put his trust in you. I've got your back." Cainneach nods to Ori with a smile, then turns to gather Salt and wait his turn to disembark. He's curious to observe the reactions of the rest of the party to Ori's elevation.
To Fahm ... "Oh, and I should have mentioned it sooner, but you are looking particularly lovely this morning. I'm trying to get in the habit of offering regular compliments, but I'm just a quiet lad from the forest. You're more likely to catch me stealing glances than to hear me saying how I feel, but I'll do better! I know you've fancied up for the occasion of arriving in Beltayne, but I'll keep pretending it's just for me." Cainneach blushes slightly and gives her hand another squeeze, fully aware of the many people on the docks casting their gazes toward the ship.
( Indeed Myrrdin is not travelling with you, only a small number of Pages and a Deputy Seneschel have accompanied the Baron as well as you lot. But Cainneach does know that said Pages and Deputy are skilled with a blade though perhaps not exactly in the best practice. Famh is certainly free to give the items to the Seneschel though that will likely annoy Almeric somewhat.)
The Companions file down behind Ori taking positions on the dock, Salt is particularly eager to get onto dry land but heeds Cainneachs silent signals to stay at his side.
.................................
Duke Carnasse gave Baron Aldred a wide grin then as the Baron gave a slight bow, returned one of his own.
" Well, you survived the trip then? Dra' wit' me and we'll talk back at the Keep."
" Showers gonna come through soon enough, might be a bit cold for delicate southern bones....", he grinned wider as Baron Aldred shook his head and chuckled.
Duke Carnasse gave the companions a look over as he clasped Baron Aldreds shoulder, " You've an interesting honour guard there. Capellar an' all."
His eye lingered on Famh as if recognising her earlier observation.
" If you've gear to haul best get to it, anything else can be brought up by the lads later."
Baron Aldred indicated the two small trunks the pages were carrying, " I have all I need. Sir Almeric. Seargent Ori. At the rear. Duke Carnasses men will walk the front."
Duke Carnasse caught Aldreds eye for a moment then nodded slightly before whistling to the four disguised men-at-arms.
As the companions move up, through the warehouse and tannery district of Gorbin and cross the bridge and enter Beltayne proper they may make the following observations:-
The Briggait or the Bridge-gate- Heading off from the northern end of the bridge at a 45 degree angle The Briggait is a lively place full of tenements, taverns, small shops all jostling for space, where the townspeople could learn news from the ships coming into the harbour and where goods would be brought in from abroad. The Vennel is a long alleyway lined with tenements at the midway mark of the Briggait linking it with Trongate.
Continuing straight north from the Bridge is Stockgait which joins Trongait at a T-junction. Stockgait is lined with a mixture of workhouses, private dwellings and a number of boarding houses; amongst them The Bracken, the Sands, Wolverlinger, Farleys Field.
Trongate- The name of the street takes its origins from the town's tron or wooden weighing beam; situated to the south side of St Thenew's Gate, or 'Tron Gait'.
Tron Kirk- on the southern edge of the long Trongate, is the Tron Kirk, officially called St Marys.
St Annes - To the left of the Tron Kirk, looking right, down King Street, sits St Anne. It is constructed of blocky stone and has a burial ground and gardens. Famh would wager that the bulk of the townspeople often attend the less imposing church rather than the Tron Kirk.
Steeple Cross- At the eastern end of Trongate you come to the Cross, where the Trongate, Walkergait, Saltmarket, and the Gallowgate meets - area of the weekly marketplace.
The folk of Beltayne seem well fed and at ease and indeed little fussed by the sight of Duke Carnasse walking the streets rather than astride horse or in a carriage, the southerners with him draw a number of eyes but all bow or curtsey to the passing retinue.
Travelling along the wide and paved Trongait the group soon arrives at Sewark Keep, once an isolated fortress on the highest hill over the river the city has grown up around it and its only real defensive function in this age would be as a final bastion the city could retreat to in case of utter disaster.
The group enter through the gated and guarded walls of the Keep and Duke Carnasse points to a line of courtiers dressed in sable and silver, " That lot will get you sorted for rooms and such. Theres a feast tonight in your honour Aldred, Baron Aldred. Sometime round sundown, we'll wait on you and we'll talk at length after we've filled our bellies."
He bowed again to Baron Aldred who returned the gesture, then Duke Carnasse headed inside through the kitchen entry snatching up a ham hock as he did so, his voice echoed perhaps a little more than intended as he yelled at someone within, "........git over here an help me get this load off. Aye, so ye say, I dinnae see you doing 'naught, ya daft wullie."
A rather harried looking man in the same livery moved over and closed the kitchen portal firmly smiling at the retinue, for their part Duke Carnasses guards withdrew into the great hall after making low bows in Baron Aldreds direction and respecful nods to Ori and Sir Almeric.
(So much activity, awesome! But I have to go to bed - close - to on time for a change, so no wall of text tonight ...)
Cainneach squirms away from the sandy hound, wondering what he could have been up to, digging around. He's thankful to see Tana spending some time with Salt. Even though she was often aloof, Cainneach liked and trusted her, and Salt certainly did as well. Maybe she knew where Salt had been digging around ...
The forester's attention is again taken by Famh as she lets out a painful exclamation. Cainneach is in the middle of nodding in agreement that consulting Myrrdin seems prudent, when Famh utters a strange word and the needle is suddenly a dagger! "That's an odd thing, useful to be sure. Maybe keep an eye on that wound, though, small though it may be. Show that to Tana so she can take a look, in case there's something more to that needle."
... ... ...
"That's a good thought, leannan. I'll tie a string about one finger to remind me to ask her." Famh returns the dagger to its needle form and uses it to carefully tease out a thread from her dress in a way that won't unravel any further. Then a sudden anxiety clouds her brow. "We'll be landing in Beltayn . . . ," she mutters and then lapses into quiet. But all the rest of that night, over and over, she uses the needle to pin her collar down before sighing, shaking her head and pulling it out to start again. Only when the crease and lie are perfect, sharp and smooth does she allow herself to fall asleep.
Famhs enquiry of Almeric during the journey had been answered in the likely affirmative, though the Knight admitted the Baron had not spoken directly on it he was a shrewd man who had made his own observations of the retinue.
With a small frown, Famh replies, "That was what was concerning me. Please tell the Baron that between us Cainneach and I have a fairly good general knowledge of Thuland; but as for the particular local details, what I know is specific to Brymstone and the area around there; and he could probably tell you a bit about the eastern Pagans near the borders with Cornumbria and Erewhon. But in both cases what we know is ... not exactly current."
To Famh ... Cainneach squeezes her hand back and looks at her with a thoughtful expression. "You make a very good point, love. It may sound a bit daft, but I dinnae make that connection. My time in Thuland feels so long off that it's almost a foreign land to me, even though it's my home. I'd hope that Almeric knows enough of you and I to recognize that we'd not be the best sources of information on the goings on here these days. Either way, we've both served the Daynes and the Baron well and we can't know things we haven't been there for. And all that worry about looking hard at the Duke, or at least I think it's the Duke, leave that behind as well. I'm sure a man as impressive as he is looked at all the time! Why if I were him, I'd probably be offended if we weren't paying him any mind!" Cainneach is certainly naive regarding the proper treatment of nobles, aside from Almeric's frequent reminders not talk to them, but he feels sure that looking at them must be okay. He gives her a playful smile, hoping to brighten her mood....
... ... ...
To Fahm ... "Oh, and I should have mentioned it sooner, but you are looking particularly lovely this morning. I'm trying to get in the habit of offering regular compliments, but I'm just a quiet lad from the forest. You're more likely to catch me stealing glances than to hear me saying how I feel, but I'll do better! I know you've fancied up for the occasion of arriving in Beltayne, but I'll keep pretending it's just for me." Cainneach blushes slightly and gives her hand another squeeze, fully aware of the many people on the docks casting their gazes toward the ship.
( Indeed Myrrdin is not travelling with you, only a small number of Pages and a Deputy Seneschel have accompanied the Baron as well as you lot. But Cainneach does know that said Pages and Deputy are skilled with a blade though perhaps not exactly in the best practice. Famh is certainly free to give the items to the Seneschel though that will likely annoy Almeric somewhat.)
(apologies everyone. As I mentioned to Bonivant, I've been going on the assumption that the Baron would bring his adviser along with him for a meeting and journey of this importance; and it didn't occur to me that he might also be Aldred's castellan and therefore would stay behind to look after the Baron's estates. Knowing this ... no, she certainly would give them up to no one else)
The happy blush that shines from Famh's cheeks at her beloved's compliment immediately doubles the available light being provided by the misty morning sun so typical of Thuland."Of course it was mostly for you, dearest Cainneach! I've got to cut a credible figure by your side, leannan, and you always look so elegant and handsome even when the retinue is just getting up from the tree roots we've slept on and even Sir Almeric has twigs in his beard!" She giggles at the memory, the shadow of fear in her eyes magically dispelled by the new sun in her life. Salt, too, responds to the lightening of her mood with a happy yip; and begins prancing about against their legs in hopes that one of them will be able to take him for a long run soon.
Almeric fell in to the rear with Ori and the rest of the Retinue, ensuring that Fahm/Cainneach were carefully carrying the wrapped wands and cursed booty. As they move through the warehouse and tannery district, Almeric speaks to the others. "There may be restrictions on arms and armour at the Castle. Full war gear is only worn at times of high alert. As we are guests it may be prudent to stow armour, bows and heavy weapons. Anything bigger than a Dagger is normally frowned upon. Anyone of the rank of Sergeant or higher can wear a sword though." Almeric grinned at Ori. "Your Sword of Vallander would suit perfectly."
+++
As they all processed to the keep, Almeric was confident and friendly, smiling and nodding to the people who bowed and curtseyed to the Duke and Baron. Persuasion = 24 - NAT20!
+++
At the keep, as the pages usher everyone off to their accommodation, there appears to be some time for the Retinue to rest and recuperate before the banquette. This may be an opportune time to issue 'wages' that could be spent in the city market. [OOC = Everyone is being paid 10GP/week and at least 2 months have passed. This means everyone has up to 80GP each in the Retinue purse. Some of you 'may' have spent some of this already. Almeric has spent ALL his wages. Fergus can issue these monies upon request.]
Once the Baron was safely ensconced in his quarters and Almeric was reassured of his security, he took his leave. Addressing the Retinue one last time before dismissing them,
"Everyone should have something clean to wear at the banquette tonight, that doesn't smell of wet dog. You may launder clothes or Fergus can issue funds from the Retinue purse to buy new clothes if they wish. I am going to have a bath. See you all at dusk." Almeric has a silk brocade tunic, clean hose and fresh linens packed especially for the occasion.
"Thank you, sir.," Famh replies. "I'll take advantage of that to get something to wear that's more fit for a Duke's table. I'd hope you or Fergus could guide me ... just as to what you might have seen the ladies wearing in the courts you've been in. That will help me know what's thought of as tasteful and what ... isn't. If you can get me access to a good-sized chest with a lock, I'll put the cursed things there ere I go out."
=========
(edit)
She is about to go speak with Fergus when another thought arrests her one question more. "When you spoke of our weapons earlier, sir ... will the way I've lashed my sgeain dhu to this walking stick be a problem? I've fallen into the habit of just leaving it tied on in case of need, so the knots are all snarled and tangled and that's helped me put it off still further. And I'll not be needing a walking stick in the city, really, so I could also just leave it behind until we're ready to set sail again," she grimaces a little at the thought, but use and custom have worn away most of that visceral repulsion which the constant cold drenching first inspired in her, "and make my ordinary dearg a little more conspicuous to deter the riffraff."
"Thank you, sir.," Famh replies. "I'll take advantage of that to get something to wear that's more fit for a Duke's table. I'd hope you or Fergus could guide me ... just as to what you might have seen the ladies wearing in the courts you've been in. That will help me know what's thought of as tasteful and what ... isn't. If you can get me access to a good-sized chest with a lock, I'll put the cursed things there ere I go out."
=========
(edit)
She is about to go speak with Fergus when another thought arrests her one question more. "When you spoke of our weapons earlier, sir ... will the way I've lashed my sgeain dhu to this walking stick be a problem? I've fallen into the habit of just leaving it tied on in case of need, so the knots are all snarled and tangled and that's helped me put it off still further. And I'll not be needing a walking stick in the city, really, so I could also just leave it behind until we're ready to set sail again," she grimaces a little at the thought, but use and custom have worn away most of that visceral repulsion which the constant cold drenching first inspired in her, "and make my ordinary dearg a little more conspicuous to deter the riffraff."
Fortunately, Almeric was mentally preparing for 'diplomatic duty' since arriving at Beltayne. He found he was no longer triggered by the very enthusiastic comments coming from Fahm constantly. Perhaps this was personal growth? Perhaps he was developing as a leader? Before they all dispersed for the afternoon, Almeric made three requests of a liveried usher. "Can a Lady-in-Waiting attend upon the Freewomen Tanatari Crelieu and Fahm Thrawn Faidhaich, please". Almeric does his best with the pronunciations and does not say more, for fear of offending anyone. "Can an empty weapons chest be provided to stow arms and armour during their stay. " This would be used for the cursed treasure and wands and other arms and armour may be stowed on top to conceal the treasure. "I would like to bathe before the banuqette. Thank you for your service."
Almost interrupting him and the Usher mid sentence, Almeric imagined Fahm thrusting the improvised weapon under his nose while asking for his advice about it. Carefully placing two closed finger on the side of the dagger blade fastened to a stick, and gently pushing it aside, Almeric enthused empathy. "A fine weapon as this is, it would not be seemly for a Freewoman like yourself to wield such a thing in mixed company. If you are asking for my martial opinion, I would categorise this as a polearm now, besides," Almeric glances at her 'hair pin' "put it away, for you are not defenceless my friend."
Cainneach spies the Duke's men-at-arms, but only nudges Ori and Thatch and nods toward the disguised men. Ori clearly has spotted them as well, but with their collective experience, the retinue remains cool and collected.
During their parade through the city, Cainneach is careful to take note of the features and geography along the way. He assists Famh in transporting their collection of dark items, doing his best to remain vigilant, yet nonchalant. The forester is thankful to reach the keep without incident. He assists Famh in obtaining the chest to store their collection and conceal its contents.
As to his arrangements for the feast, Cainneach is a bit baffled. He didn't feel that his current clothes would be suitable, but also wasn't interested in obtaining anything finer that wouldn't be practical while travelling the wilds of Thuland and Albion. After some moments of indecision, Cainneach asks Fergus about what the best course of action would be. In general, Cainneach is uncomfortable with the idea of trying to be presentable and couth for this pivotal negotiation, so he hopes he can volunteer to be a guard or lookout or something that the Duke would find useful. The less speaking, the better.
As she prepares for her upcoming shopping trip, Famh's mind is in a whirl. The subject of her frantic meditations is, of course, the upcoming state dinner where she will be expected as a member of Sir Almeric 's retinue ... and he a 'household knight' to Baron Aldred... to sit somewhere and at least look like she has SOME clue as to what to do with her hands. And while she's grateful to Sir Almeric for arranging for ladies-in-waiting to attend upon Tana and herself, this only partly eases her mind since there's also the worry what thoseladies-in-waiting will think of her. She's not sure they are used to someone like herself who knows nothing of proper etiquette.
She does hope she won't be required to sit at the head table, though her uncertainty as to whether Sir Almeric 's rank would even allow for such a thing does soothe her somewhat. But the main source of her concern ... besides the ever-present one of remaining as enchanting to Cainneach as she can, and her uncertainty how well she would be able to focus on this in such a public setting as the head table... would have absolutely astounded her but a few hours before. She is no longer so much afraid that her crude conduct will draw the Duke's ire, but that the Duke's rough-hewn ways are going to embarrass her Baron at the dinner table!
Great Gatanades, could she really believe her ears? Had she really heard the fellow swearing and ranting at his poor gillie like any plain-tongued, coarse-spoken herdsman jawing at the trader who had cheated him in a cattle swap?! It was lucky his knight had gotten the door shut in time ... except that no one had seemed particularly taken aback, as if this was something that happened all the time. She found herself almost having to laugh in the midst of her anxieties. Why, she imagined the Duke might have even called the poor target of his wrath "a feartie nyaff!" once or twice after the door was safely shut!!! She is still chuckling as she adds her "pole arm" to the concealing layer that hides their dark burden and locks the lid safely down on at least THAT anxiety for the night. "Would ye like to come with me, love, out to the marketplace? You might find a treat for Salt there, or a new silken bowstring, while I'm looking for my dress. Or we might find better bargains at the Briggait. And then we can come back and you can tell me all sorts of nice things before dinner about how pretty my new earasaid looks. Oh, and I'll toss you a little bone of a compliment every now and then too." She laughs and pats his arm affectionately.
(I'm on vacation, so some thoughts may be a little scattershot ...)
Cainneach and Salt frown at each other at Almeric's mention of smelling like a wet dog. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Salt! It's not like you can help it. If we can find someone willing to lend a tub, I'll get you and I cleaned up. Although I feel like we got a few good baths in courtesy of the Mergeld Sea. Still have to figure out about clothes, though ..."
The pair were about to accompany Famh to town, although he had no idea what help he might be, other than keeping her focused and cheered. However, these ladies-in-waiting swoop in upon request and usher her and Tana off to who knows where.
With Thatch's help, Cainneach finds his way with Salt to the stable, where he washes the wiry hound. On the way through the town, Cainneach spots a fine suit of Studded Leather armour, which he procures using funds from the retinue purse. He reluctantly sells off his patched together Leather armour, but there's no sense in being sentimental about it. They return to the keep, with one of them cleaned up. After consulting with Fergus and one of the staff of the Duke's household, Cainneach exchanges his Traveler's Clothes for a set of clean Common Clothes that he will wear while his heavier outdoor wear is laundered. Cainneach bathes (in his room?), while Salt gnaws on a bone they scavenged from the kitchen.
Almeric fell in to the rear with Ori and the rest of the Retinue, ensuring that Fahm/Cainneach were carefully carrying the wrapped wands and cursed booty. As they move through the warehouse and tannery district, Almeric speaks to the others. "There may be restrictions on arms and armour at the Castle. Full war gear is only worn at times of high alert. As we are guests it may be prudent to stow armour, bows and heavy weapons. Anything bigger than a Dagger is normally frowned upon. Anyone of the rank of Sergeant or higher can wear a sword though." Almeric grinned at Ori. "Your Sword of Vallander would suit perfectly."
+++
As they all processed to the keep, Almeric was confident and friendly, smiling and nodding to the people who bowed and curtseyed to the Duke and Baron. Persuasion = 24 - NAT20!
+++
At the keep, as the pages usher everyone off to their accommodation, there appears to be some time for the Retinue to rest and recuperate before the banquette. This may be an opportune time to issue 'wages' that could be spent in the city market. [OOC = Everyone is being paid 10GP/week and at least 2 months have passed. This means everyone has up to 80GP each in the Retinue purse. Some of you 'may' have spent some of this already. Almeric has spent ALL his wages. Fergus can issue these monies upon request.]
Once the Baron was safely ensconced in his quarters and Almeric was reassured of his security, he took his leave. Addressing the Retinue one last time before dismissing them,
"Everyone should have something clean to wear at the banquette tonight, that doesn't smell of wet dog. You may launder clothes or Fergus can issue funds from the Retinue purse to buy new clothes if they wish. I am going to have a bath. See you all at dusk." Almeric has a silk brocade tunic, clean hose and fresh linens packed especially for the occasion.
Over the next few hours the various members of the retinue are chuffed to hear the servants and guardsmen remarking upon the fine figure Sir Almeric, Baron Aldred and the companions cut during their passage through the city. Fergus distributed wages to everyone and organised with the castle staff to have chests, ladies in waiting and other minor services and items delivered as needed.
"Thank you, sir.," Famh replies. "I'll take advantage of that to get something to wear that's more fit for a Duke's table. I'd hope you or Fergus could guide me ... just as to what you might have seen the ladies wearing in the courts you've been in. That will help me know what's thought of as tasteful and what ... isn't. If you can get me access to a good-sized chest with a lock, I'll put the cursed things there ere I go out."
She is about to go speak with Fergus when another thought arrests her one question more. "When you spoke of our weapons earlier, sir ... will the way I've lashed my sgeain dhu to this walking stick be a problem? I've fallen into the habit of just leaving it tied on in case of need, so the knots are all snarled and tangled and that's helped me put it off still further. And I'll not be needing a walking stick in the city, really, so I could also just leave it behind until we're ready to set sail again," she grimaces a little at the thought, but use and custom have worn away most of that visceral repulsion which the constant cold drenching first inspired in her, "and make my ordinary dearg a little more conspicuous to deter the riffraff."
A chest is procured and the items secured within, three keys exist: one is given to Famh, one to Almeric and one to Fergus.
Fortunately, Almeric was mentally preparing for 'diplomatic duty' since arriving at Beltayne. He found he was no longer triggered by the very enthusiastic comments coming from Fahm constantly. Perhaps this was personal growth? Perhaps he was developing as a leader? Before they all dispersed for the afternoon, Almeric made three requests of a liveried usher. "Can a Lady-in-Waiting attend upon the Freewomen Tanatari Crelieu and Fahm Thrawn Faidhaich, please". Almeric does his best with the pronunciations and does not say more, for fear of offending anyone. "Can an empty weapons chest be provided to stow arms and armour during their stay. " This would be used for the cursed treasure and wands and other arms and armour may be stowed on top to conceal the treasure. "I would like to bathe before the banuqette. Thank you for your service."
Almost interrupting him and the Usher mid sentence, Almeric imagined Fahm thrusting the improvised weapon under his nose while asking for his advice about it. Carefully placing two closed finger on the side of the dagger blade fastened to a stick, and gently pushing it aside, Almeric enthused empathy. "A fine weapon as this is, it would not be seemly for a Freewoman like yourself to wield such a thing in mixed company. If you are asking for my martial opinion, I would categorise this as a polearm now, besides," Almeric glances at her 'hair pin' "put it away, for you are not defenceless my friend."
Cainneach spies the Duke's men-at-arms, but only nudges Ori and Thatch and nods toward the disguised men. Ori clearly has spotted them as well, but with their collective experience, the retinue remains cool and collected.
During their parade through the city, Cainneach is careful to take note of the features and geography along the way. He assists Famh in transporting their collection of dark items, doing his best to remain vigilant, yet nonchalant. The forester is thankful to reach the keep without incident. He assists Famh in obtaining the chest to store their collection and conceal its contents.
As to his arrangements for the feast, Cainneach is a bit baffled. He didn't feel that his current clothes would be suitable, but also wasn't interested in obtaining anything finer that wouldn't be practical while travelling the wilds of Thuland and Albion. After some moments of indecision, Cainneach asks Fergus about what the best course of action would be. In general, Cainneach is uncomfortable with the idea of trying to be presentable and couth for this pivotal negotiation, so he hopes he can volunteer to be a guard or lookout or something that the Duke would find useful. The less speaking, the better.
Fergus asks around and settles on fine woolen garments with minor fur trimmings, the staff do remark that wearing your own peoples plaid is certainly fine as long as it is well laundered.
As she prepares for her upcoming shopping trip, Famh's mind is in a whirl. The subject of her frantic meditations is, of course, the upcoming state dinner where she will be expected as a member of Sir Almeric 's retinue ... and he a 'household knight' to Baron Aldred... to sit somewhere and at least look like she has SOME clue as to what to do with her hands. And while she's grateful to Sir Almeric for arranging for ladies-in-waiting to attend upon Tana and herself, this only partly eases her mind since there's also the worry what thoseladies-in-waiting will think of her. She's not sure they are used to someone like herself who knows nothing of proper etiquette.
She does hope she won't be required to sit at the head table, though her uncertainty as to whether Sir Almeric 's rank would even allow for such a thing does soothe her somewhat. But the main source of her concern ... besides the ever-present one of remaining as enchanting to Cainneach as she can, and her uncertainty how well she would be able to focus on this in such a public setting as the head table... would have absolutely astounded her but a few hours before. She is no longer so much afraid that her crude conduct will draw the Duke's ire, but that the Duke's rough-hewn ways are going to embarrass her Baron at the dinner table!
Great Gatanades, could she really believe her ears? Had she really heard the fellow swearing and ranting at his poor gillie like any plain-tongued, coarse-spoken herdsman jawing at the trader who had cheated him in a cattle swap?! It was lucky his knight had gotten the door shut in time ... except that no one had seemed particularly taken aback, as if this was something that happened all the time. She found herself almost having to laugh in the midst of her anxieties. Why, she imagined the Duke might have even called the poor target of his wrath "a feartie nyaff!" once or twice after the door was safely shut!!! She is still chuckling as she adds her "pole arm" to the concealing layer that hides their dark burden and locks the lid safely down on at least THAT anxiety for the night. "Would ye like to come with me, love, out to the marketplace? You might find a treat for Salt there, or a new silken bowstring, while I'm looking for my dress. Or we might find better bargains at the Briggait. And then we can come back and you can tell me all sorts of nice things before dinner about how pretty my new earasaid looks. Oh, and I'll toss you a little bone of a compliment every now and then too." She laughs and pats his arm affectionately.
Those who wish to do so may head out into the city, the men in the retinue are fairly sorted already with the Baron providing tunic and hose in house livery of an acceptable standard; Cainneach will be distinguished by his plaid, Ori by his station of Seargent and therefore bearing a longarm, Fergus procures an ermine shoulder cape from an amenable subsidiary of the Keep Castellan.....Thatch will need to determine his...or perhaps not if he wishes to remain inconspicuous.
( With many hours to kill give me a rough idea of route and actions and I will amend the promenade as needed.)
Almeric will take a long bath and allow himself to relax for the first time since they left Gorham. He will also bask in the glory of his achievements thus far; Recovering the body of Harold the Tax Collector from Hob's Del, avoiding death at the hands of Tuannon Dur. Escaping and evading Beorn to warn Aldred of his treachury, avoiding death aswell. Destroying the Blue Moon Demon and neutraling the Temple, avoiding death and demonic possession.
After a shave, Almeric will dress in his banquette clothes, a silk brochade tunic in the Dayne Colours, matching hose over fresh and clean linens. A small silk embroidered path of Aldreds Arms was a new addition, over his left breast. Strapping on his sword and clean boots, Almeric left with hours to spare to stroll around the keep. Taking in his surroundings, nodding and smiling to everyone he meets, he checks upon the Baron, to confirm when Aldred will be ready for dinner.
Almeric will visit the Guard House and pay his respects to the Keep Commander, sharing a few war stories and assessing the tactical situation and defences of the castle. Almeric really wants to build friendships and contacts here. Almeric will ensure to collect Aldred in plenty of time to arrive promptly at the banquette with his master
Tana primarily remains to herself as night falls, opting to venture a bit further from the group to collect a good share of herbs before returning to settle for a meal. She spares Cainneach and Famh curious looks throughout the night and briefly questions Salt when the hounds breaks away from the two of them for a moment.
As the morning comes, she acknowledges Thatch and Ori, but lingers as the two go off to find food. She beckons to Salt when it seems Famh and Cainneach are taking a moment to speak with one another and opts to play with the hound until Cainneach calls upon him again.
Hearing Almeric speak in the distance, she furrows her brows in consideration and casts a glance at the rest of the companions. None were quite what she'd imagine 'deputy' material to be, but she would likely toss Thatch's hat into the ring when asked.
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Goods are loaded and stowed and supplies are pack back aboard ship the crew set their shoulders to work breaking her free of the sand and pebbles and climbing aboard is a cold and salty endeavour.
Once aboard and settled the Linden is rowed out until she can turn and head back for open water, the repairs hold well and the ship makes good progress around the Cape and the Baron seems pleased that they came across no ships bound out of or for Brymstone.
After some days the coast becomes less wild and farmland and pastures can be seen dotting the lowlands and hills, and eventually the Linden enters Beltayne Bay itself.
The bay becomes a fjord and finally a river mouth; with the paired fortresses of Crawdor and Morden squat on either side of the river mouth like ancient stony toads. Granite walls extend out someway into the river forming a chokepoint where catapults and trebuchets could make short work of a ship forced into the narrow gap.
Looking ahead and beyond them toward Beltayne itself lies the ancient battlefield of Pertbough Field and the haunting mist-choked Linnings Haugh on the north bank.
Looking to the city itself you can just see the ancient Sewark Keep where Duke Carnasse winters, the great square walls of which lie on the northern side of Trone Gait and beyond it the steeple of St Marys or Naomh Mhairis as it is known locally.
The Linden entered the Gillburn River and towards Gorbaldis, the great granite walled harbour and shipyards of the city linked to the main city by a high stone bridge of ancient work.
Sailing slowly through the gap without incident or inspection and down the river until it comes level with the bridge and the quays that cluster about it, the Linden was tied alongside in mere minutes and upon the shore stood a number of people.
Most seemed to be shoremen ready to assist with unloading but there was also a heavily bearded and broad knight dressed in maille with a long plaid cloak drawn about his shoulders.
(...
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
(So much activity, awesome! But I have to go to bed - close - to on time for a change, so no wall of text tonight ...)
Cainneach squirms away from the sandy hound, wondering what he could have been up to, digging around. He's thankful to see Tana spending some time with Salt. Even though she was often aloof, Cainneach liked and trusted her, and Salt certainly did as well. Maybe she knew where Salt had been digging around ...
The forester's attention is again taken by Famh as she lets out a painful exclamation. Cainneach is in the middle of nodding in agreement that consulting Myrrdin seems prudent, when Famh utters a strange word and the needle is suddenly a dagger! "That's an odd thing, useful to be sure. Maybe keep an eye on that wound, though, small though it may be. Show that to Tana so she can take a look, in case there's something more to that needle."
As he looks over the dagger and Famh's delicate fingers, Almeric's request is issued. Cainneach looks at Famh, wondering what she's thinking on the matter. As far as Cainneach is concerned, he trusts all of them, aside from possibly Fergus if he's in one of his ... inattentive? states. Who would be the best to lead, though? It seemed like Ori had the most experience in the group, and he was the one who stood with Cainneach in trying to avoid the dreadful ship that carried them back to the Linden. Although it turned out well, Cainneach was still shaken by the encounter and would prefer it not be repeated. So, his vote will go with Ori for now, Cainneach silently resolves. Hopefully that won't upset any of the group ... "What do you think of Almeric's request, Famh? Do you see an obvious deputy among us?", he inquires deferentially.
Speaking of leadership, Cainneach's rumbling stomach concurs that Ori has the right idea at the moment. The forester stands, brushes off the sand, helps Famh to her feet, and heads with Thatch and the rest to find some food.
Cainneach does his best to help the dedicated and tireless crew with their work in readying and freeing the Linden from its sandy berth. Unfortunately, he again winds up wet and cold. Back to the pallets and soggy awning for the rest of their trip to Beltayne! Salt is similarly soaked, as there's not much anyone can do to prevent it. They're lucky to get the hound back aboard at all. Given that he's already drenched, Cainneach goes out of his way to keep his companions as dry as possible, especially Famh and Ori, after their previous miserable experience. When they finally reach Beltayne, the forester looks on in wonder at the fortifications marking their path upstream. He'd certainly never seen anything like this. The Duke must be an impressive man, indeed. That sentiment is reinforced by his appearance at the docks. Especially after Famh's remarks, Cainneach is curious as to the Duke's thoughts on our Baron and his proposal. He will keep an eye on them and attempt to read lips where possible.
Insight 14
Passive WIS (Perception) 20
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Famh groans silently, a sinking feeling beginning at the pit of her stomach. She knew she ought to have turned her head left instead of right just then, but she didn't; and she thinks she caught a suspicious gleam, perhaps even one of annoyance, under the Thulish knight's brows even as she was quickly averting her gaze. She is afraid it wasn't quickly enough; and that she's offended the knight with her most impertinent curtiosity. The incident combines with her recent remark to Cainneach to remind her how little she truly does know about either Carnasse or his duchy; she suspects that the knight is a liegeman of the Duke's charged with keeping a watch on the quays, but even this is only a guess. She may have returned to Thuland with this journey, but she has seldom felt farther from home.
In fact, though she would sooner have torn out her own lights and liver from below than to have missed the chance to learn how much Cainneach loves her, she otherwise isn['t quite sure why she came along in the first place, or why either of them are aboard the Linden at this moment in the first place. Or, for that matter, why any of her friends in the retinue had to go through this increasingly unpleasant ordeal in the FIRST first place. But one suspicion that floats to her mind, if true, is such that she feels it ought to be dealt with promptly. Giving her newly bagged forester a little squeeze of the hand for reassurance, she says to him, "It's just occurred to me, dearest. We two are the only Thules in the retinue, so some might think we'd be the likeliest to have been here before. Well, I've already told you how little I know of Beltayn, and you didn't mention it when you were telling me of your past either. I'm still not exactly clear as to why the Baron wanted our retinue to come along on this trip; but it's just occurred to me that one of the reasons might have been because of us. You know, that perhaps he hoped we could give him some local knowledge, or some insight into the Duke he's come to treat with? We'd best go ask our knight, I think. I'd hope he would have talked with Baron Aldred and learned what he wants of us in at least a little more detail by now."
... ... ...
... ... ...
"And ... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm .... I'm not so just precisely all that easy about that other knight. I'm afraid he, um, might think I was, um, ... watching him.
... ... ... Just a little! ... ... ...
And...and I meant no harm by it, really I didn't, I was just curious ..." Her voice trails off awkwardly as even Salt gives her a look that seems to say, "Oh, Famh ... ! *<sigh>* " If his anatomy allowed for the possibility of his adding a facepalm ... or in his case, a facepaw ... she imagines he would have done that as well.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric carefully observed the impressive strategic defences of Beltayne, from the sea to the the citadel. The twin fortresses of Crawdor and Morden, guarding the natural straight at the head of the fjord, makes it impossible to attack by sea without taking excessive losses. A hard learned defence taught by the Selentine invasion a thousand years ago and triggered by constant raids Mercanian Reavers over the last 100 years. This was a land that had experienced constant hardship, attack and threat of invasion for centuries, from the Selentines, Mercanians, Albish and their neighbour Thulish Clans. The ancient battlefield of Pertburgh Field acted as a reminder and memorial of the sacrifice these people had made. If it was difficult to attack by sea, the landward route to Beltayne was equally well defended with stout forts, natural hills and dales and by the lion hearted Thulish. Surely, this was one of the best defended cities Almeric had ever seen and comparable to any in the Western Lands in strategic importance. Now Almeric understood Aldred's interest in Duke Carnasse.
Duke Carnasse commanded a vast amont of fertile farmland which could sustain a large population. Natural resourcs of wood, wool, iron and copper has enabled the Duke to build a 'modern' society from his ancient roots. Beltayne also controlled the Cape Calogen, which allowing access to and from Katorheim and the summer trade routes north to Glissom and Cornumbria. Katorheim is the royal seat of Thuland, the official residience and demesne of the king. The relationship between the King of Thuland and the Duke of Carnasse has always been a close one, whomever the incumbents were. Traditionally, the King granted the Duke the title of Lord Protector, as the Duke literally protects Katorheim and the whole East Coast of Thuland from attack. To ally with the Duke, Aldred's security, influence and prosperity would increase ten fold! Almeric wondered what the Duke would want in return?
Turning to his scribe, "Fergus, please make some notes on the topography of Beltane Bay. This is a fascinating place and one of the bets strategic defences I have seen." Almeric wanted to keep Fergus busy at work and apart from the others, to give everyone time to cool down before they could have the full debrief he had promised.
Then, to the whole Retinue, Almerics gives some words of encouragement. "Fahm, please keep the the booty close to you, wherever you are. We cannot allow anyone to touch those wands. Everyone, please follow the Baron's lead, observe and listen to what goes on. Speak when you must and only directly to me. Much depends on the successful outcome of this mission." Almeric was aware that there had not been an assertive response to his request for a Deputy. One vote for Thatch and one vote for Ori. Thatch had much potential but was very young. Ori had much experience but was a little jaded. Very well, it was time to act.
"Ori, I hereby promote you to the rank of Sergeant-at-Arms within the Household of Baron Aldred, with all the rights and privileges of this rank. As such you are the Retinue Deputy. Please accept my apology for putting an undue strain on you earlier and your loyalty is deeply appreciated. Well done!" Almeric claps Ori on the back and gives him a gold crown, as was tradition. He leaves them and goes off to inform the Baron of this change.
===
When the Linden docks at the riverside quay, Almeric has prepared himself properly. Groomed and cleaned, wearing his full raiment of the Worshipful Order of St Withan of Barada. he is the first passenger to disembark after the crew tying off lines. He strides confidently towards the bearded knight in full maille, dressed in plaid. Stopping a few yards away, Almeric takes a knee.
"I am Almeric Dayne, Household Knight to the Baron Aldred of Gorham. It is my honour to meet you, your Grace." Almeric remains kneeing until given leave by the Duke and will then introduce the Baron formally, before stepping behind his master.
Ori found himself missing the smooth nature of that ghost ship as he empties his personal chun bucket over the side of the Linden. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the crew and captain, but you couldn't beat the way that boat rode. As another wave of sickness washed over him, Almeric started in on one of his speaches. Probably going to tell us Ferg is going to be his next in command. Makes sense as the man takes down all Almeric wishes and would be the most accustomed to his wishes.
Ori was shocked to say the least at the announcement of not only be Retine Deputy but promoted too? Dumbstruck, and fighting the next veiwing of his last meal, Ori didn't say a word in response to Almeric's congratulatory pat and coin. Ori stares down at the coin in his hand as Almeric takes leave to do something that Ori didn't hear. Was this some trick? Why me? I'm just a big circus clown with a big stick, what do I know about having rank and privileges. He was good at keeping others safe from a distance not being the one center stage. Maybe Almeric appreciated being questioned more then Ori would have guessed? Nah that can't be it. Well position and title be damned, Ori wasn't going to change who he was.
He felt at the mask under his tunic. For some reason unbeknownst to even Ori himself, he kept the mask on his person always now, not even in his pack on his back, but hidden just above his hip. The same hip that he keeps his note in his belt sash. He has started to put his on the mask instinctively instead of his note. Ori grins a bit as he watches the rest start to file off the ship realizing that instead of looking like he just places his hand on his hip as he used to, he now holds on his back like an old man with aches. He fills his bucket one last time before he attempts to deboard.
Famh's hands flitter about the neckline and shoulders of her earasaid, making any number of minute adjustments and fixes as she anxiously waits to see whether there will be any unfortunate consequences of her ill-timed inquisitiveness . Anyone who has traveled much in Thuland and had an opportunity to observe the general demeanor of her lairds towards the common folk they rule can well understand her concern; one learned commentator has summed it up by saying that the lives of the crofters and boumen are of little more importance in the eyes of their lords than the livestock whose capture forms such a mainstay of those same lords' summer entertainment. But only Cainneach understands all the subtleties that make his heart catch in his throat every time he sees her adjust the little needle she has both secured and concealed by continuing to use it as a collar pin. Only he knows the reason behind the endless hours she spent the night before, when she knew they would be arriving in Beltayn next day, obsessively adjusting and re-adjusting the position of that little sliver of steel until her collar lay perfectly smooth and flat.
None of the other companions have likely been to Thuland enough ... except perhaps the well-traveled and well-bred Capellar ... to notice the distinction that it is generally only the gently born Thulish woman who wears the earasaid. Women of Famh's class are much more simply clad, sometimes having little more to protect themselves from the elements than their plaids and a simple smock (one reason the full Thulish plaid is such an ample and sturdy garment; a pressing one, indeed, given the biting cold of Thuland's winters). From what she has shared with him of her life, Cainneach knows she would have had time at her mother's knee to learn how to use her needle ere her growing strangeness and the common folk's superstitious fear drove them both forth. He admires how well she has altered and how inconspicuously patched her dress; and even his eyes had missed the fact it was not originally hers until he'd discovered a particular reason to look upon her more closely ;) But of course there was only so much she could do with the materials available to her at the time. Although the strange knight is a good distance away and may be unable to see the finer details that would give her away, Famh's borrowed plumage is unlikely to withstand the closer inspection of any native-born Thule, be the reason of that inspection what it may. He can almost hear the wheels turning in her mind as she guesses what her share of the retinue's recent gains might amount to, and compares it to the astronomical figure she would have imagined as the price of a new earasaid in the days of her far-off girlhood. Besides, she now has a bright gleam to bear her up. As unlikely as she believes she is to be able to afford it, she is already dreaming a little about the moment she'll ask Cainneach how he likes her new dress.
===========================
(OOC: the fruits of further online research. I've lost the URL, but I ran across a blog which discussed among other things the finer cultural details of Thuland and specifically Beltayn. When I dressed Famh in the thing, all I knew was that the Google at Delphi prophesied that it was a Scottish type of dress. I'll be glad to start an archaeolgoical dig through my papers to discover if I wrote down that site, if desired, unless Damian_May or Bonivant happen to recognize which one it might be)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
The ice in Famh's stomach only increases as she watches the deferential manner in which Sir Almeric greets the silent figure in maille waiting to greet them. Oh, Voice of God, if she'd been staring at the Duke himself ... !!!
And what did the Capellar mean by, "the booty", she was supposed to take care of? She certainly hopes she left the cursed staves and everything else tainted by the moon demon safely in Myrddin's hands, and she'd thought Fergus had been entrusted the rest. She certainly doesn't want to make it worse for the poor fellow and rub it in that even Sir Almeric doesn't fully trust him anymore. After a moment, though, she shrugs to herself. She can always talk to the knight later and straighten out this misunderstanding. At least he's not shown any tendency to leave your head grinning on a spike on his castle wall for breathing his air too soon after his lordly lungs had exhaled it, as one of the more notorious lairds was whispered once to have done.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
(OOC: Is Myrrdin travelling with us? I thought he was not, although so much has happened over so long a time I may not be remembering it correctly. Also, if you find that URL, I'd really like to see it. The materials I've found aren't extremely detailed, so Cainneach's backstory is a little patchy. Now on to the RP, responding in order of the posts ...)
To Famh ... Cainneach squeezes her hand back and looks at her with a thoughtful expression. "You make a very good point, love. It may sound a bit daft, but I dinnae make that connection. My time in Thuland feels so long off that it's almost a foreign land to me, even though it's my home. I'd hope that Almeric knows enough of you and I to recognize that we'd not be the best sources of information on the goings on here these days. Either way, we've both served the Daynes and the Baron well and we can't know things we haven't been there for. And all that worry about looking hard at the Duke, or at least I think it's the Duke, leave that behind as well. I'm sure a man as impressive as he is looked at all the time! Why if I were him, I'd probably be offended if we weren't paying him any mind!" Cainneach is certainly naive regarding the proper treatment of nobles, aside from Almeric's frequent reminders not talk to them, but he feels sure that looking at them must be okay. He gives her a playful smile, hoping to brighten her mood.
To Almeric/Ori ... Cainneach is privately delighted to hear that Ori's been selected as the Deputy, but also surprised. As far as he knew, no larger discussion had taken place, nor was any nomination relayed to Almeric. If true, that meant it likely that Almeric had selected Ori with his own judgement. Which further implied that neither he nor Ori would face any repercussions for their hesitation in boarding Almeric's ghost ship! Or at least Cainneach hoped that would be the case. He'd found his personal logic didn't always hold in the dealings with nobles and clergy. The promotion was especially nice for Ori, given how much he'd suffered aboard the Linden. From the look on the big man's face, he was as surprised as Cainneach was. Cainneach gives Ori a moment to compose himself after a bout of wretching, then approaches and also gives him a clap on the back, saying, "Well-deserved, my large friend! I hoped it would be you and I'm glad that Almeric had the good sense to put his trust in you. I've got your back." Cainneach nods to Ori with a smile, then turns to gather Salt and wait his turn to disembark. He's curious to observe the reactions of the rest of the party to Ori's elevation.
To Fahm ... "Oh, and I should have mentioned it sooner, but you are looking particularly lovely this morning. I'm trying to get in the habit of offering regular compliments, but I'm just a quiet lad from the forest. You're more likely to catch me stealing glances than to hear me saying how I feel, but I'll do better! I know you've fancied up for the occasion of arriving in Beltayne, but I'll keep pretending it's just for me." Cainneach blushes slightly and gives her hand another squeeze, fully aware of the many people on the docks casting their gazes toward the ship.
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Tired from travel and taking in so many new sights Famh can determine little of use.
Cainneach keeps his eyes peeled but his keen senses note that a number of the longshoremen standing near the knight are actually concealing weapons and armour beneath their cloaks, and that the Duke seems aware of this and unconcerned. The Duke gives the slightest of smiles as he sees Baron Aldred appear on deck and head towards the gap to step onto the quay.
Famhs enquiry of Almeric during the journey had been answered in the likely affirmative, though the Knight admitted the Baron had not spoken directly on it he was a shrewd man who had made his own observations of the retinue.
Baron Aldred slowed his step and nodded over Almerics head to Duke Carnasse, Duke Carnasse nodded and tapped Almeric once on the shoulder with a meaty finger.
" Aye, an honour to meet one of St Withans faithful.", the Duke drawled with a strange grin.
He then waited a moment for Almeric to withdraw before stepping forward to greet Baron Aldred......
With Oris departure the crew quickly begins off loading the ship and the longshoremen come forward to assist, Ori notes that four of the men stay exactly where they are....arrayed behind Duke Carnasse.
( Indeed Myrrdin is not travelling with you, only a small number of Pages and a Deputy Seneschel have accompanied the Baron as well as you lot. But Cainneach does know that said Pages and Deputy are skilled with a blade though perhaps not exactly in the best practice. Famh is certainly free to give the items to the Seneschel though that will likely annoy Almeric somewhat.)
The Companions file down behind Ori taking positions on the dock, Salt is particularly eager to get onto dry land but heeds Cainneachs silent signals to stay at his side.
.................................
Duke Carnasse gave Baron Aldred a wide grin then as the Baron gave a slight bow, returned one of his own.
" Well, you survived the trip then? Dra' wit' me and we'll talk back at the Keep."
" Showers gonna come through soon enough, might be a bit cold for delicate southern bones....", he grinned wider as Baron Aldred shook his head and chuckled.
Duke Carnasse gave the companions a look over as he clasped Baron Aldreds shoulder, " You've an interesting honour guard there. Capellar an' all."
His eye lingered on Famh as if recognising her earlier observation.
" If you've gear to haul best get to it, anything else can be brought up by the lads later."
Baron Aldred indicated the two small trunks the pages were carrying, " I have all I need. Sir Almeric. Seargent Ori. At the rear. Duke Carnasses men will walk the front."
Duke Carnasse caught Aldreds eye for a moment then nodded slightly before whistling to the four disguised men-at-arms.
As the companions move up, through the warehouse and tannery district of Gorbin and cross the bridge and enter Beltayne proper they may make the following observations:-
The Briggait or the Bridge-gate- Heading off from the northern end of the bridge at a 45 degree angle The Briggait is a lively place full of tenements, taverns, small shops all jostling for space, where the townspeople could learn news from the ships coming into the harbour and where goods would be brought in from abroad. The Vennel is a long alleyway lined with tenements at the midway mark of the Briggait linking it with Trongate.
Continuing straight north from the Bridge is Stockgait which joins Trongait at a T-junction. Stockgait is lined with a mixture of workhouses, private dwellings and a number of boarding houses; amongst them The Bracken, the Sands, Wolverlinger, Farleys Field.
Trongate- The name of the street takes its origins from the town's tron or wooden weighing beam; situated to the south side of St Thenew's Gate, or 'Tron Gait'.
Tron Kirk- on the southern edge of the long Trongate, is the Tron Kirk, officially called St Marys.
St Annes - To the left of the Tron Kirk, looking right, down King Street, sits St Anne. It is constructed of blocky stone and has a burial ground and gardens. Famh would wager that the bulk of the townspeople often attend the less imposing church rather than the Tron Kirk.
Steeple Cross- At the eastern end of Trongate you come to the Cross, where the Trongate, Walkergait, Saltmarket, and the Gallowgate meets - area of the weekly marketplace.
The folk of Beltayne seem well fed and at ease and indeed little fussed by the sight of Duke Carnasse walking the streets rather than astride horse or in a carriage, the southerners with him draw a number of eyes but all bow or curtsey to the passing retinue.
Travelling along the wide and paved Trongait the group soon arrives at Sewark Keep, once an isolated fortress on the highest hill over the river the city has grown up around it and its only real defensive function in this age would be as a final bastion the city could retreat to in case of utter disaster.
The group enter through the gated and guarded walls of the Keep and Duke Carnasse points to a line of courtiers dressed in sable and silver, " That lot will get you sorted for rooms and such. Theres a feast tonight in your honour Aldred, Baron Aldred. Sometime round sundown, we'll wait on you and we'll talk at length after we've filled our bellies."
He bowed again to Baron Aldred who returned the gesture, then Duke Carnasse headed inside through the kitchen entry snatching up a ham hock as he did so, his voice echoed perhaps a little more than intended as he yelled at someone within, "........git over here an help me get this load off. Aye, so ye say, I dinnae see you doing 'naught, ya daft wullie."
A rather harried looking man in the same livery moved over and closed the kitchen portal firmly smiling at the retinue, for their part Duke Carnasses guards withdrew into the great hall after making low bows in Baron Aldreds direction and respecful nods to Ori and Sir Almeric.
"That's a good thought, leannan. I'll tie a string about one finger to remind me to ask her." Famh returns the dagger to its needle form and uses it to carefully tease out a thread from her dress in a way that won't unravel any further. Then a sudden anxiety clouds her brow. "We'll be landing in Beltayn . . . ," she mutters and then lapses into quiet. But all the rest of that night, over and over, she uses the needle to pin her collar down before sighing, shaking her head and pulling it out to start again. Only when the crease and lie are perfect, sharp and smooth does she allow herself to fall asleep.
With a small frown, Famh replies, "That was what was concerning me. Please tell the Baron that between us Cainneach and I have a fairly good general knowledge of Thuland; but as for the particular local details, what I know is specific to Brymstone and the area around there; and he could probably tell you a bit about the eastern Pagans near the borders with Cornumbria and Erewhon. But in both cases what we know is ... not exactly current."
... ... ...
(apologies everyone. As I mentioned to Bonivant, I've been going on the assumption that the Baron would bring his adviser along with him for a meeting and journey of this importance; and it didn't occur to me that he might also be Aldred's castellan and therefore would stay behind to look after the Baron's estates. Knowing this ... no, she certainly would give them up to no one else)
The happy blush that shines from Famh's cheeks at her beloved's compliment immediately doubles the available light being provided by the misty morning sun so typical of Thuland. "Of course it was mostly for you, dearest Cainneach! I've got to cut a credible figure by your side, leannan, and you always look so elegant and handsome even when the retinue is just getting up from the tree roots we've slept on and even Sir Almeric has twigs in his beard!" She giggles at the memory, the shadow of fear in her eyes magically dispelled by the new sun in her life. Salt, too, responds to the lightening of her mood with a happy yip; and begins prancing about against their legs in hopes that one of them will be able to take him for a long run soon.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric fell in to the rear with Ori and the rest of the Retinue, ensuring that Fahm/Cainneach were carefully carrying the wrapped wands and cursed booty. As they move through the warehouse and tannery district, Almeric speaks to the others. "There may be restrictions on arms and armour at the Castle. Full war gear is only worn at times of high alert. As we are guests it may be prudent to stow armour, bows and heavy weapons. Anything bigger than a Dagger is normally frowned upon. Anyone of the rank of Sergeant or higher can wear a sword though." Almeric grinned at Ori. "Your Sword of Vallander would suit perfectly."
+++
As they all processed to the keep, Almeric was confident and friendly, smiling and nodding to the people who bowed and curtseyed to the Duke and Baron. Persuasion = 24 - NAT20!
+++
At the keep, as the pages usher everyone off to their accommodation, there appears to be some time for the Retinue to rest and recuperate before the banquette. This may be an opportune time to issue 'wages' that could be spent in the city market. [OOC = Everyone is being paid 10GP/week and at least 2 months have passed. This means everyone has up to 80GP each in the Retinue purse. Some of you 'may' have spent some of this already. Almeric has spent ALL his wages. Fergus can issue these monies upon request.]
Once the Baron was safely ensconced in his quarters and Almeric was reassured of his security, he took his leave. Addressing the Retinue one last time before dismissing them,
"Everyone should have something clean to wear at the banquette tonight, that doesn't smell of wet dog. You may launder clothes or Fergus can issue funds from the Retinue purse to buy new clothes if they wish. I am going to have a bath. See you all at dusk." Almeric has a silk brocade tunic, clean hose and fresh linens packed especially for the occasion.
"Thank you, sir.," Famh replies. "I'll take advantage of that to get something to wear that's more fit for a Duke's table. I'd hope you or Fergus could guide me ... just as to what you might have seen the ladies wearing in the courts you've been in. That will help me know what's thought of as tasteful and what ... isn't. If you can get me access to a good-sized chest with a lock, I'll put the cursed things there ere I go out."
=========
(edit)
She is about to go speak with Fergus when another thought arrests her one question more. "When you spoke of our weapons earlier, sir ... will the way I've lashed my sgeain dhu to this walking stick be a problem? I've fallen into the habit of just leaving it tied on in case of need, so the knots are all snarled and tangled and that's helped me put it off still further. And I'll not be needing a walking stick in the city, really, so I could also just leave it behind until we're ready to set sail again," she grimaces a little at the thought, but use and custom have worn away most of that visceral repulsion which the constant cold drenching first inspired in her, "and make my ordinary dearg a little more conspicuous to deter the riffraff."
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Fortunately, Almeric was mentally preparing for 'diplomatic duty' since arriving at Beltayne. He found he was no longer triggered by the very enthusiastic comments coming from Fahm constantly. Perhaps this was personal growth? Perhaps he was developing as a leader? Before they all dispersed for the afternoon, Almeric made three requests of a liveried usher. "Can a Lady-in-Waiting attend upon the Freewomen Tanatari Crelieu and Fahm Thrawn Faidhaich, please". Almeric does his best with the pronunciations and does not say more, for fear of offending anyone. "Can an empty weapons chest be provided to stow arms and armour during their stay. " This would be used for the cursed treasure and wands and other arms and armour may be stowed on top to conceal the treasure. "I would like to bathe before the banuqette. Thank you for your service."
Almost interrupting him and the Usher mid sentence, Almeric imagined Fahm thrusting the improvised weapon under his nose while asking for his advice about it. Carefully placing two closed finger on the side of the dagger blade fastened to a stick, and gently pushing it aside, Almeric enthused empathy. "A fine weapon as this is, it would not be seemly for a Freewoman like yourself to wield such a thing in mixed company. If you are asking for my martial opinion, I would categorise this as a polearm now, besides," Almeric glances at her 'hair pin' "put it away, for you are not defenceless my friend."
Cainneach spies the Duke's men-at-arms, but only nudges Ori and Thatch and nods toward the disguised men. Ori clearly has spotted them as well, but with their collective experience, the retinue remains cool and collected.
During their parade through the city, Cainneach is careful to take note of the features and geography along the way. He assists Famh in transporting their collection of dark items, doing his best to remain vigilant, yet nonchalant. The forester is thankful to reach the keep without incident. He assists Famh in obtaining the chest to store their collection and conceal its contents.
As to his arrangements for the feast, Cainneach is a bit baffled. He didn't feel that his current clothes would be suitable, but also wasn't interested in obtaining anything finer that wouldn't be practical while travelling the wilds of Thuland and Albion. After some moments of indecision, Cainneach asks Fergus about what the best course of action would be. In general, Cainneach is uncomfortable with the idea of trying to be presentable and couth for this pivotal negotiation, so he hopes he can volunteer to be a guard or lookout or something that the Duke would find useful. The less speaking, the better.
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As she prepares for her upcoming shopping trip, Famh's mind is in a whirl. The subject of her frantic meditations is, of course, the upcoming state dinner where she will be expected as a member of Sir Almeric 's retinue ... and he a 'household knight' to Baron Aldred ... to sit somewhere and at least look like she has SOME clue as to what to do with her hands. And while she's grateful to Sir Almeric for arranging for ladies-in-waiting to attend upon Tana and herself, this only partly eases her mind since there's also the worry what those ladies-in-waiting will think of her. She's not sure they are used to someone like herself who knows nothing of proper etiquette.
She does hope she won't be required to sit at the head table, though her uncertainty as to whether Sir Almeric 's rank would even allow for such a thing does soothe her somewhat. But the main source of her concern ... besides the ever-present one of remaining as enchanting to Cainneach as she can, and her uncertainty how well she would be able to focus on this in such a public setting as the head table... would have absolutely astounded her but a few hours before. She is no longer so much afraid that her crude conduct will draw the Duke's ire, but that the Duke's rough-hewn ways are going to embarrass her Baron at the dinner table!
Great Gatanades, could she really believe her ears? Had she really heard the fellow swearing and ranting at his poor gillie like any plain-tongued, coarse-spoken herdsman jawing at the trader who had cheated him in a cattle swap?! It was lucky his knight had gotten the door shut in time ... except that no one had seemed particularly taken aback, as if this was something that happened all the time. She found herself almost having to laugh in the midst of her anxieties. Why, she imagined the Duke might have even called the poor target of his wrath "a feartie nyaff!" once or twice after the door was safely shut!!! She is still chuckling as she adds her "pole arm" to the concealing layer that hides their dark burden and locks the lid safely down on at least THAT anxiety for the night. "Would ye like to come with me, love, out to the marketplace? You might find a treat for Salt there, or a new silken bowstring, while I'm looking for my dress. Or we might find better bargains at the Briggait. And then we can come back and you can tell me all sorts of nice things before dinner about how pretty my new earasaid looks. Oh, and I'll toss you a little bone of a compliment every now and then too." She laughs and pats his arm affectionately.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
(I'm on vacation, so some thoughts may be a little scattershot ...)
Cainneach and Salt frown at each other at Almeric's mention of smelling like a wet dog. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Salt! It's not like you can help it. If we can find someone willing to lend a tub, I'll get you and I cleaned up. Although I feel like we got a few good baths in courtesy of the Mergeld Sea. Still have to figure out about clothes, though ..."
The pair were about to accompany Famh to town, although he had no idea what help he might be, other than keeping her focused and cheered. However, these ladies-in-waiting swoop in upon request and usher her and Tana off to who knows where.
With Thatch's help, Cainneach finds his way with Salt to the stable, where he washes the wiry hound. On the way through the town, Cainneach spots a fine suit of Studded Leather armour, which he procures using funds from the retinue purse. He reluctantly sells off his patched together Leather armour, but there's no sense in being sentimental about it. They return to the keep, with one of them cleaned up. After consulting with Fergus and one of the staff of the Duke's household, Cainneach exchanges his Traveler's Clothes for a set of clean Common Clothes that he will wear while his heavier outdoor wear is laundered. Cainneach bathes (in his room?), while Salt gnaws on a bone they scavenged from the kitchen.
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Over the next few hours the various members of the retinue are chuffed to hear the servants and guardsmen remarking upon the fine figure Sir Almeric, Baron Aldred and the companions cut during their passage through the city. Fergus distributed wages to everyone and organised with the castle staff to have chests, ladies in waiting and other minor services and items delivered as needed.
A chest is procured and the items secured within, three keys exist: one is given to Famh, one to Almeric and one to Fergus.
Fergus asks around and settles on fine woolen garments with minor fur trimmings, the staff do remark that wearing your own peoples plaid is certainly fine as long as it is well laundered.
Those who wish to do so may head out into the city, the men in the retinue are fairly sorted already with the Baron providing tunic and hose in house livery of an acceptable standard; Cainneach will be distinguished by his plaid, Ori by his station of Seargent and therefore bearing a longarm, Fergus procures an ermine shoulder cape from an amenable subsidiary of the Keep Castellan.....Thatch will need to determine his...or perhaps not if he wishes to remain inconspicuous.
( With many hours to kill give me a rough idea of route and actions and I will amend the promenade as needed.)
Almeric will take a long bath and allow himself to relax for the first time since they left Gorham. He will also bask in the glory of his achievements thus far; Recovering the body of Harold the Tax Collector from Hob's Del, avoiding death at the hands of Tuannon Dur. Escaping and evading Beorn to warn Aldred of his treachury, avoiding death aswell. Destroying the Blue Moon Demon and neutraling the Temple, avoiding death and demonic possession.
After a shave, Almeric will dress in his banquette clothes, a silk brochade tunic in the Dayne Colours, matching hose over fresh and clean linens. A small silk embroidered path of Aldreds Arms was a new addition, over his left breast. Strapping on his sword and clean boots, Almeric left with hours to spare to stroll around the keep. Taking in his surroundings, nodding and smiling to everyone he meets, he checks upon the Baron, to confirm when Aldred will be ready for dinner.
Almeric will visit the Guard House and pay his respects to the Keep Commander, sharing a few war stories and assessing the tactical situation and defences of the castle. Almeric really wants to build friendships and contacts here. Almeric will ensure to collect Aldred in plenty of time to arrive promptly at the banquette with his master