3rd Day, 1st Ride, 9th Month, 1374th Year
The day of the moot arrived and I felt myself getting nervous. A lot was riding on Quentyn’s ability to convince the Glisterians, as well as on his ability to keep Ser Fosco’s greedy manipulations in check. My part had been played out, or so I thought, and I decided to ask Quentyn to go over the numbers one more time. That morning, I woke up thinking that the economy and thus the prosperity of all the inhabitants of the Oldmark and the New was all that mattered.
I arrived in the kitchen to break my fast and I found that Creighton and Mund had joined the lord of the house at the table. Godric and… his brother came in shortly after but seemed unsure of whether or not they were allowed to join in. Quentyn had lost his temper with them and banned them from the kitchen table the previous day and now they just didn’t know where they stood.
To my surprise and disappointment, Quentyn welcomed them at the table by setting up their couverts. I don’t know much about rearing knights, but I imagine it’s much like children and training animals; you have to be consistent. I wonder if our lord’s temperament isn’t unsuitable to the task of instruction. But Quentyn managed to make the men comfortable and they soon were feasting upon Mund’s excellent cookery.
A few moments later the good lord had visitors asking for an audience. He received them immediately, thinking, like I had, that there was another emergency to deal with, but to our surprise three women from The Hoof, lead by Mirthe, brought a beautifuly woven robe, dyed in the colours of the House Martell heraldry, with the Martell crest adorning once side of the robe and Harren Demonsbane’s crest of the stag adorning the other.
It was a beautiful garment and it convinced me to visit the looms on The Hoof to see if I could commission something nice. Winter was coming and my clothing had become quite threadbare during the last two years so something new was in order. Mirthe told us that the embroidery had been done by Gustav’s daughter, and my mind was racing to come up with an appropriate design for myself. Hopefully, I will be able to afford something.
After the women had left I took dictation from Quentyn of a letter he wanted to send to Lord Simony Balta, the Western warden of Vaasa. Normally, I wouldn’t offer my services as a scribe like that. Not that I feel it is beneath me, but I do think my time is better spent elsewhere. I made an exception because I wanted Quentyn to get used to the feeling of being a lord. And a lord needs a steward and council that dictates letters like this. I’m surprised Quentyn doesn’t call on Creighton for these type of tasks more often.
He wrote that Lord Simony’s scouting party had not been seen in or around Glister and that we would be honoured to send a party to investigate their disappearance. He assured Lord Simony that he would send word as soon as possible.
After drying, sealing and sending the letter off I broached the sensitive subject of Quentyn’s successor. I felt that if he was going to be an adventuring lord, that he should make clear who his successor would be in case of his untimely departure. I told him that it was a good housekeeping to have it in writing even if he had no ambitions to put himself in harms way.
He admitted that he had not given it any thought. I asked after his family members and he shared that he had an older brother, already standing to inherit the family’s lands and titles, and a younger sister whom he didn’t consider up for the task. He was going to give it some more thought after the moot.
We spent some time running through the four scenarios Creighton and I had come up with. He picked up the particulars and highlights of each of the four scenarios, but I never got the feeling he truly grasped the intricacies. Put Quentyn in a room with people and he burns brightly, but ask him to do basic arithmetic and he is no more enlightened than most others. Luckily, he is surrounded by competent advisers like Brother David, Creighton, Jago and myself.
Once I was satisfied that Quentyn would be able to convey the significance of each of the scenarios to the Glisterians, albeit in an unsophisticated way, Brother David joined us to share his experience in talking to the Glisterians during the morning. He said that many of the Glisterians had intimated that they were wondering about the need of the moot. Does this mean that a moot had not been necessary? Had it just been Wulfric’s way to move Quentyn to action? Wulfric’s call for the moot had finally spurred him to action.
The moot holds a revered place in Glisterian society. The outcome of a moot is considered an almost spiritual bond and an obligation that cannot be undone. A charismatic person with a knack for politics could maneuver Glisterians in accepting things and forcing the lord in backing plans that might not be in their best interest, simply by manipulating the moot.
The conversation once again turned to Quentyn’s reluctance in accepting magical aid. He was opening to me casting a passive enchantment that would allow our group to whisper messages to one another and communicate together without others knowing, but he was not going to budge on accepting the blessing of Ilmater which would allow him to further convince his audience. He saw it akin to beguiling the Glisterians. Before the last word had been uttered on the subject, Jago came to the keep.
Jago had spotted Ser Fosco on The Hoof, talking to Wulfric. I immediately dispatched the Blackwing to spy on the conversation. It also sparked my memory; I had plans on doing further research on Ser Fosco’s ancestry. I departed for the study and started to take more time in research. The books on Cormyrian lineages and genealogy that the late Lord Marbrand had in his library did teach me something about House Ganivet, but nothing concrete. I could neither confirm or deny any of the Ser Fosco’s claims. I decided to accept his word on his honour as a knight.
When Blackwing returned she didn’t seem too happy. I had to bribe her with corn in order for her to tell me what she had found out. “Knight man, the knight, he pleading. The knight ask things, favours, ask “look kindly.” Wulfric kind, big man kind. They shake hands. Friends when leaving, I see.” I thought it was unsurprising that Ser Fosco was going around making contacts with the Paragons. I would have done the same if I had been in his position.
Brother David overheard Blackwing giving her report and decided to go and talk to Wulfric to see what had been discussed. I went upstairs so I could get the elevation I needed to spot Ser Fosco. I suspected he was going to go and see the Widow next, but it turned out he was headed to Glister proper. Later I would come to suspect he had visted Haëlla next.
When I came back down I noticed Quentyn was busy dressing his squires Godric and his brother. He was using some of the clothing he had brought from Cormyr to outfit the squires. The clothing had been little used over the last two years and seemed ruffled and faded. I decided that a small enchantment to mend small tears and clean the stains was in order.
Mending
Drehil do kren.
Undo the damage.
Once we were all ready we departed for the longhouse. This was the first moot in several years, since Quentyn was awarded his inheritance, and so a lot of people had showed up. I took my place with Gustav and his daughters who, as always, represented Glister proper. The Hoof was represented by Wulfric and Gottfryda, Wizard’s Hill by Arnulf and the Widow, and Haëlla represented Glister South.
With all of Glister’s eyes on the moot, I decided it might be best to have Blackwing flying across the Oldmark to keep an eye out on the surroundings. This would be a perfect opportunity for the settlers to turn cloak and put the longhouse to the torch and take over.
Ser Fosco was present with his squire Duncan Croga and two Cormyrian soldiers. Their attempt at unity was a lot more impressive than Quentyn’s as they were dressed in armour, complete with tabards which matched the colours of House Ganivet.
I pulled out a thin piece of copper wire and cast the enchantment that allowed our group to communicate with one another and asked Brother David to talk to Ser Fosco since he was unaware of what to do next on account of never having been at the moot. This is probably what we looked like when we first attended a moot.
Message
Faal zul tinvaak nol gut.
The voice speaks from afar.
Creighton opened the ceremony of the moot and gave the floor to Quentyn, naming him Lord Quentyn Martell of House Martell, Lord of Glister and all its environs. It sounded very regal, and I noticed Quentyn’s chest swell up with pride.
When Quentyn spoke, he spoke of his plans for the settlers, about the Gift and his investment and how together, the settlers and the Glisterians would provide the Cormyrian refugees a new home. Initially the people of Glister seemed confused by Quentyn’s tone, which I admit sounded like he was asking the Glisterians for permission. He seemed to notice it too, and quickly shifted his tone.
When it was Ser Fosco’s turn to speak, my blood began to boil.
Ser Fosco made a counter offer. He wanted to liberate a keep, though which one was unclear. I assumed it was the keep in the Southern foothills of the Galena Mountains, occupied by lizard men and forcing caravans from Hulburg to detour on their way to Glister. I wondered whether Ser Fosco was even aware of the situation at the High Pass.
Ser Fosco’s offer was such a naked grab for power that I could hardly contain myself. It was clear he was only interested in a land grab, securing a holdfast for himself that would allow him to survive the winter in warmth and comfort, safe behind sturdy walls. He had no interest in helping the people he had lead her build their homes and make a new life!
Quentyn must have realised the same thing, because he pivoted back to his original offer. To my astonishment Brother David interrupted and started pleading for Ser Fosco to liberate the keep. Ser Fosco saw that as his opportunity to change the tone of his offer, but not the content; he would liberate the keep in honour of “his lord” and hold the keep in “his lord’s name.”
I couldn’t stand to watch the charade continue. I lost my temper. He was showing not one of the five chivalric virtues and I accused him of self-enrichment. The moment my outburst had faded, I once again realised why I had left Cormyr behind. I was not good at this part. Naked calculations I could do, but I could never then wrap their conclusion in subtlety and subterfuge.
I felt sick to my stomach as I felt the confusion at my outburst ride through the crowd.
Quentyn rallied, however, he offered that the keep would be held by Godric and his brother, Quentyn’s two squires, with their mother’s permission — a jape that send laughter throughout the crowd. It was a power move and it had paid off. Everyone was very positive to see that who they considered was one of their own was being elevated to the same level as a knight.
While all this was going on, I had spied Gunnar standing at the entrance to the longhouse, just outside. He had been looking on with some interest at the proceedings, fascinated by the spectacle. At that time, Blackwing informed me that close to a dozen people left north from the Newmark. The descriptions I could made me think that they were Sembians, but I couldn’t be sure.
I was about to leave to talk to Gunnar, but Quentyn saw me get up and motioned me to sit back down. Apparently it would be considered bad form for me to leave mid ceremony.
Quentyn then asked for Ser Fosco’s fealty, and the knight knelt. Vows were exchanged between the two men, much to the satisfaction of the Glisterians. At that point the moot was adjourned and Quentyn took Ser Fosco and his men to the Timbered Keep for a celebration.
I immediately went to talk to Gunnar and asked him about the departing group. He seemed genuinely surprised that people had left the Newmark, and was more than a little baffled about how I had known that. He said that some men were hard to tie down and that he had never expected all of the settlers to remain, regardless of the outcome of the moot. I asked him to hold a head count at the camp and report to Wizard’s Hill in the morning.
After talking to Jago he offered to go out with Widukin to investigate where the departing group had head for. I resigned myself to not being able to do something about the situation, so I decided to walk Gustav and his daughters back to his home. Gustav seemed very pleased with the outcome of the moot, and that Quentyn had taken charge of the situation in such a lordly fashion.
I returned to Wizard’s Hill.
4th Day, 1st Ride, 9th Month, 1374th Year
When Gunnar arrived at the keep the next morning, he bore news that Mateo Princepis had lead several Sembians into the wilds north of the Newmark. To Gunnar it seemed that they had never intended to settle. Apparently, they had come to the Oldmark to eavesdrop on the moot and when it went the way it did, they decided to leave.
I invited Gunnar to break his fast and asked Mund to see him out once he was done. I retired back to the study to investigate Ser Fosco’s heraldry a little better.
Arriving at the study I noticed several things were out of place. I immediately retreated in my last memory of the study and started to compare what I remembered to what I saw. I have always had a strong ability to recall, which has helped me to study as fast and as hard as I have in the past.
I started to check the windows and found that one of them had not been locked properly. I looked out of the window and saw no real tracks in the soil underneath, nor did I find any soil on the inside of the window. I realised quickly that I should ask Jago to take a look at the study the moment he returned, and I decided to leave as not to disturb any evidence.
Just as I was locking up the study a thought came to me and I rushed down the hidden spiral staircase to the laboratory to make sure the bloodstone was still there.
To my horror, it was gone.
