Drakkenheim: Over the Sea

Rivyre sees the aggressive stance their newly acquired yellow horse takes against the riders. She mutters a quick prayer before trying to calm the horse & move on to the oncoming riders, "Gracious Flame, I ask for your wisdom as I navigate this uncertainty to direct me toward the right path. Give me the discernment to recognize opportunities & the courage to take action on them". She approaches the horse & gently runs her hand across her mane & gently wrapping her arms around her head in a comforting hug. She speaks in Sylvan, "Socair a nighean, socair. Cha leig mi leotha cron a, dhèanamh ort." (Easy girl, easy. I won't let them hurt you) (Animal Handling: 21)
She turns to the riders as she continues petting the fairy horse & raises her other hand in recognition of the riders arrival. She replies, "Flame be with you, & good blessings riders of Enniskillen. I am Flamekeeper Rivyre of Altbruke, & it's a pleasure to make your aqquaintence. I assure you we have no hostile intentions as we are just finishing several long days of travel. My apologies if our arrival startled you, but we are in need of safe shelter for one of our wounded companions & an infant in our care. Would you be kind so kind & guide us into town to the monastery? I was hoping they'd have guest quarters available for us. Can you also tell us what day it is? (Persuasion + Guidance:  11)

"Who are you to ask?" Valanthe shouts back.

"You could be brigands or pirates, or worse still, from the mainland for all we know. They could answer you, Rivyre, and then lead us into a trap!" She states with performed honesty, knowing full well the riders are from Eniskillen... but probing to understand whose side they are on.

"Answer well!" she adds

(Intimidation check 14+2=16 but will add a Tactical Mind roll (+1d10) if that fails.)

(You reveal too much too quickly, she says to Rivyre quietly, For all we know, they've just chopped off Lorn's head!)

She whispers back to Valanthe, "One should not silence truth, nor speak falsehoods. We are the guests in "their" city & it's in our best interest if they know the truth of what brought them out here & help alleviate their suspicions of us." She pauses for a moment, "I would hope the clan & people of this city also should know not to attack a Silver Order knight if the Sacred Flame is welcome here."

Leaning in to the Yellow Horse " Ya don't worry about them. Worry about us, cause if you don't smarten up you are going to the glue factory." He says in Tylwyth (Sylvan) giving the horse a knowing look.

Giggling at Valanthe comment " Oh man wouldn't it be great if they chopped his head off. Solve so many problems, plus I know this great severed head gag we use to do back in court.... hilarious." He says slapping his leg with a grin. " We just need a bag of marbles, a pot of jam, has to be elderberry no substitutes, some blue cloth, a wheel of cheese and a fish. A live one." He says, counting out with his fingers.

Looking over to the riders, " Ya where are your manners! Tell us your names first." He shouts too them " Also, I don't want to go to any boring monastery, what's the best inn? Did they ever rebuild The Silverstar after it mysterious burnt down?" 

The yellow horse allows Rivyre to soothe it, but it stands there as if long-suffering and above her reassurances. It does, however, pin its ears and whip its head down to give Moz a sharp nip.

One of the riders soothes his snorting horse and boldly rides a few paces closer to the group. "My name is Aneirin, of Clan Blytheway," he shouts. "Servant of the Sacred Flame. Are you really a Flamekeeper? You're an elf, or maybe a fey." He eyes Rivyre suspiciously. "You must have come through the fey road. I know the door is on that side of the lake. Who are these companions you travel with? Why did we hear tortured screams for several minutes coming from your direction? You seem like a fell lot."

His gaze travels over each of the group members in turn. "You don't bear the marks of any clan. And you travel with an infant? Are you fleeing? Your animals are unnatural." He looks at Beef, at the yellow horse, and at Ellynel. His eyes narrow as he looks at Alorin and Angus, lingering with recognition, and maybe suspicion, on their still-recent cuts. He raises his torch, but does not draw his weapon. "State your business, and your allegiance. Quickly!" At the same time he makes a gesture to the other riders, and they begin to draw back, about forty feet away behind Aneirin.

Alorin

Alorin speaks up, "My name is Alorin Vonsin, wanderer of these fair isles and the fey lands beyond, and for too brief a time, a student at the monastery. I should be reasonable well known in town, even if we may not recognize each other. I owe no belief or fealty to any gods, elven or human, new or old. I also owe no fealty to any mortal factions or clans, beyond my own conscience and promises I have made and bonds I have forged in battle. We simply come to warn Enniskillen of coming trouble, and seeking an acquaintance - a paladin of the Silver Order who may have ridden in recently. The child is someone we rescued from the hands of a huntsman of the fey, and as such, my charge."

"I am Angus Lochlan, keeper and Steward of the Silver Sword. My faith lies in Nuada, the Silver-Handed. These are our traveling companions, and these are my beasts. Flame be with you, Aneirin, of Clan Blytheway, Servant of the Sacred Flame." Angus raises his fist across his chest in greeting.
"As Alorin has stated, we bring warning of coming trouble and seek a paladin by the name of Sir Lorn."

Rivyre eyes Aneirin w/ a fair amount of disdain for his presumptuous statement of her race & not believing her claim as a Flamekeeper despite the fact she's clearly wearing the official robes. She responds to him in a subtle, but semi-harsh tone, "Yes..., I am a fey & what does my race have anything to do w/ my choice of faith? The Flame welcomes all who wish to worship no matter who they are, & spiritual warmth comes when the community is gathered together before the Flame as neighbors around our first tenet, The Hearth. You are rather presumptuous & very disrespectful. Surely you have been taught to never judge by book by it's cover? Rivyre asks inquisitively, but also sternly. She continues..., "I suspect you should also know the second passage of the 2nd tenet our faith, The Lantern: 'One should not silence truth, nor speak falsehoods.'  I DO NOT LIE!" she shouts back at Aneirin her eyes narrowing to a stern & unwavering pose as she stares into his suspicious gaze.
Rivyre takes a few deep breaths to calm herself & finishes, "Yes, my companions speak the truth as well & of our groups intentions. There is indeed trouble brewing & we've come to warn you about it, & it does also involve knowing if Silver Order Paladin Sir Lorn has also arrived here recently. Taking the Faierie Roads was the fastest way to get here even w/ dangers the Feywild poses. Though with Alorin's & my familiarity w/ traveling the Feywild, our journey was mostly uneventful. As for the tortured screams, our little Felix had a rather vexing nightmare which was the cause if his terror. Surely..., you've had your fair share of unpleasant dreams & probably had an emotional outburst yourself?" 

Valanthe looks at Rivyre as the Flamekeeper lies about Moz barely a heartbeat after lecturing these humans about the tenets of their faith. Valanthe makes a mental note of the duplicity of this religion and this flamekeeper: They think they're above us, but they are no different. This arrogance is a weakness. Everybody lies - either to themselves or to others.

"Enough words. We're here to stop a war and save your butts. Either take us to Lorn or get out of the way. You can play who's better at religion later." she says impatiently.

"To be sure, the Flame welcomes all," Aneirin says, "but its embrace burns the unworthy." He glares back at Rivyre, clearly unimpressed with her posturing. After a moment, he addresses the group as a whole.

"Well met, Angus, Steward of the Sword, and Alorin, the Anchorless. I'm sure you're all aware of the hazards of using the fairy roads, so I think it's only just of me to let you know: you're late. Sir Lorn arrived here more than a week ago, and we are quite well aware of the brewing war. In light of that, we aren't letting fey wanderers inside the city, whoever you all think you are, though most of you don't really even seem to have that figured out. We know the Steward, but he is of the Lochlann clan, and with that clan this moon we are sworn enemies."

Aneirin urges his horse forward a pace, raising his torch. "I humbly suggest, therefore, that you take yourselves back to your fairy road. We don't want your kind in Enniskillen."

Furious w/ Aneirin's response she casts Thaumaturgy & shouts back w/ a thundering fury in her voice, "I REQUESTED SIR LORN RIDE AHEAD TO WARN YOU BECAUSE OF WHAT THE DRUID OF KROMAC WAS GOING TO PETITION TO THEIR CHIEF & TRY TO SAVE AS MANY LIVES AS POSSIBLE, & THIS IS THE THANKS I GET? I HAVE UPHELD THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE, CHOSE NOT TO ABIDE WHILE EVIL STIRRED. HERE YOU STAND CALLOUS, INDIFFERENT, & ALLOWING YOUR SELFISHNESS & HATE TO FILL YOUR HEART! YOU ARE DENYING US SHELTER FROM THE COLD, & SUCCOUR FROM THOSE WHO SUFFER! IF THERE IS ANYONE THE FLAME SHOULD BURN FOR THEIR UNWORTHINESS, IT'S YOU! YOU ARE NO SERVENT OF THE FLAME!"
(Intimidation w/ advantage: 17)

Alorin

”Given how I don’t seem to recall you at all, Sir Aneirin, you don’t seem to be the one calling the shots around these parts. Are you the one that decides who is worthy and who isn’t? Do you claim to speak for the Flame?” Alorin scoffs at the pompous rider and thinks to himself that he should be called Aneirin the Anxious. He continues, “As the Flamekeeper says, we are acquainted with Sir Lorn, and he is well aware of our situation. And the true decision makers, whether it be the Abbott of the monastery or other members of Clan Blytheway, should know me as well. We’re not enemies, and I’m not about to fight you for entry, tenuous and unworthy of the Flame as your reason for rejecting us is. But I would like to speak to Sir Lorn, the Abbott, Chief Blytheway, and anyone else truly calling the shots, even if it means waiting here for them to come to us. Maybe they won’t be so closed off - you’re almost as bad as that warmongering druid, so unwilling to listen to reason, or a way to ward off this war.”

"Careful Sister, your flame casts a long shadow. Sir Aneirin, I understand your concern and commend your vigilance. Please allow us to meet with Sir Lorn." Angus steps forward and kneels before the mounted scout, "On my honor as a servant of Nuada the Silver-Handed, we- I am here to do whatever it takes to prevent this war. For far too long our clans have shed needless blood, I want nothing more than to end this war and I will not settle for anything less."

Standing towards the back of the group, watching the others try and talk their way past. His entertainment is interrupted by Iago. "Want me to sting that guy in the neck." The imp asks sounding bored. " Hmmmmm.... maybe.." Moz muses till Rivyre suddenly does her Gandalf voice. " I think they got this. Worst case it shouldn't be hard to slip into town if needed. I am not sleeping on the ground  another night." Looking at the town in the distance. " When we do get into town I got a job for you. A dog problem" He thinks back to the imp.

Giggling he whispers to Valanthe. " Isn't it funny tgat the cleric is doing the hard approach and the barbarian is trying the soft approach. That just tickles my fancy."

"I really don't care what you think of me," Aneirin says, disdainfully. "I have a job to do, and that's to protect Enniskillen and the Church in time of war. I don't know who you are. You could be agents of the druids, trying to get to Sir Lorn and get access to the monastery to burn it down. Such attempts have been made before. Why should I trust you? You've given me no reason to."

Torch still held at the ready, he listens to Angus' speech. His posture softening just a bit to match Angus' own humility. "The servant of Nuada has a silver tongue," Aneirin says, "and if it is true, I am glad that there are those of Lochlann blood who don't want this war. It seems as though most of them do. Blytheway doesn't want the war, but we won't back down either. We will fight to the last man for the honor of our clan and the authority of the Church. The bloodthirst of the druids of Kromac is only darkness for the light of the Flame to dissipate." He sits back in his saddle, his eyes still on Angus. "If you want me to take a message to Sir Lorn, or Chief Blytheway, then tell me plainly. What information do you have that is so critical? How do you propose to stop this war?"

Silent tears streak across Angus' sullen face, "A hope that Sir Lorn's selfless sacrifice will sate the Kromac's bloodlust, and in turn, stop this war. I hope against hope that this will be enough, the Chieftain believes it to be so, as well. It was the wisdom of the Flame that saw that accursed stone be destroyed before its corruption be allowed to set in."
 Angus takes a moment to steady himself, still kneeling. "It brings me much joy to hear that I am not alone, pray tell, who of Clan Lochlan despises this war as I do. Perhaps we shall find allies in this endeavor. Nevertheless, steel yourselves, Cousins, it will only be through much loss that this war ceases. May the Silver Lady bless you with her knowledge of war, and may the Flame grant us all the strength to do what needs to be done."

Alorin

"Sir Lorn did the right thing in destroying that accused stone, but destroying an altar in the process has allowed the warmongers among the clan - their Druid most of all - to whip them up into a frenzy. I hope to quell the war so that we may focus on the greater threat - these stones that threaten to destroy the very land around us. I don’t think Sir Lorn should pay a price for doing the right thing, but at this point, even Chief Lochlann can accept nothing less than Sir Lorn explaining the situation in person. I hope against hope that the knight or the Abbott has a better idea. War would just distract us while more of that corruption enters these lands, and that’s to nobody’s benefit,” Alorin adds, as he joins Angus in kneeling and supports him.

She turns to Alorin & Angus & speaks to them in Tylwith, "Tá sé cinnte cheana féin gan éisteacht liom. Ní chuirfidh mé mo anáil amú leis an nGalatach neamhchreidmheach seo. Tabharfaidh an Tóirse breithiúnas air as a easpa eagna spioradálta agus a fhuatha dall. (He is already determined not to listen to me. I will not waste my breath on this unbelieving Galatian. The Torch will judge him for his lack of spiritual wisdom & his blind hatred.)

Rivyre leads the fae horse back to rest of the animals, finds a place to sit near Valanthe & Moz, & begins to pray in silence.

As a clearly frustrated Rivyre walks over to take a seat by Valanthe and Moz, the goblin gently pats her on the back sympathetically. " There, there I thought you were very impressive, but religious types are so boneheaded. Always thinking they know better than everybody else and telling people what to do, how to live......" He says with fake sympathy " I really liked your big voice. I need to learn that trick. Then I can be all... ' Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks' " he says in a deep voice and stirking a pose, before breaking into a luagh. " Get it? Because all I am is cheap tricks." He giggles at himself.

Suddenly clapping his hands together and in a voice loud enough for the riders to hear. " Well we tried, nobody can say we didn't. Lets get out of here before Kormac's rabid dogs get here and turn this place into a smoking ruin." Giving Rivyre a nudge and gesturing to Aneirin. " We can come back and say ' I told you say'  too whatever stake his severed head is decorating" Picking up his pack. " Darn, I was really looking forward to a roasted duck"

"You are concerned about the stones," Aneirin says, peering thoughtfully at Alorin and Angus in turn. "Truly, this is something Sir Lorn knows more about." He sits in silence for a moment, as if considering. He watches Moz and Rivyre as they show signs of removing themselves from the situation. Finally he seems to decide something, and turns to Angus and Alorin.

"I will consent to escort into Enniskillen whomever of you wish to come and speak to Sir Lorn, on one condition. You turn over your weapons to us, and we will bind your hands and keep you under our guard. If Sir Lorn, or the Abbot, or the Chief feel differently after you have spoken, they are free to release you or return your weapons. But I can do no less with the duty of safeguarding Enniskillen on my shoulders."