Tag: A Beauclair Delegation

Understated and Underwhelming

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Previously, the heroes survived a confrontation with Epidemius and brought peace back to Kingsport, albeit not without consequences. They spent an evening celebrating with a beautiful meal, surrounded by companions. The following day they would finally meet up with the delegation from Beauclair.

Fifth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is in low sanction, Darkmoon is waxing)

Before departure from the Careless Wanderer, Quentin reminded everyone to ride in careful formation to him. They should always keep at his right side, which he explained was a position of great trust, honour, and privilege to the Beauclairois. In battle, the person to your right had the ability to save you with the shield they carried in their left hand, and therefore was a person of great reverence.

Quentin also warned the others that it was likely that the members of the Beauclair delegation would look down upon them, treat them as commoners, and they should not let them. When Neamhan spoke up to admit that she was a commoner, Astrid gripped her by the shoulders, stared her intently in the eyes and said; “There is nothing common about you, woman,” before spinning her around and moving her out of the door, preventing any rebuttals.

Exiting the city through the North Gate while riding their mounts, the heroes crossed the bridge over the river and followed a long, dry brick wall along the fields of a Black Alder farm where the delegation had set up camp. The farm consisted of a large manor house and several smaller buildings. There was a large pond flanked on the far side by a small forest. Dozens of tents of all size had been set up in the field between the manor house and the pond. Banners and heralds flew above the tents in bright colours, which signified the different noble houses and knights that travelled with the delegation.

Quentin directed the heroes towards the manor house, looking over the encampment for a place where people would be received but not being able to identify any. He was growing concerned with the lack of formalities, and his discomfort resonated with Róisín, the scabbard nervously blooming and withering rapidly. This caught the attention of many of the servants, armsmen, and hedge knights that the heroes encountered, and news of their arrival spread along Black Alder farm rapidly.

Against all expectations, a very modest reception was hastily organised in front of the manor house. There were several minor nobles and servants lined up to greet Quentin and the heroes, but the only people of significance that were there were Ser Croy and Monsieur Beauregard, an advisor to Highlord Gauthier who was still recovering from the attack on the delegation. Quentin was not pleased with the reception and told Monsieur Beauregard to make note of the breach of etiquette. Matters were made even worse and more awkward when no attempt was made to help Quentin down from his horse. When the breach of protocol became apparent, Monsieur Beauregard arranged for stablehands to bring a stool to help him, and the heroes, down from their mounts.

Chakuq was keen to see how the stablehand would handle a horse without a saddle or bridle, since he had gone without one, but the young lad seemed to be handling it well. Chakuq suspected that the stablehand might have had some experience breaking colts.

Quentin was very pleased to see Ser Croy again and urged him to come and find Quentin later. Once inside the manor, Monsieur Beauregard offered the heroes a chance to rest and refresh themselves while Lord Dorian was informed of their arrival. Emrys started to make out the depth and detail of Beauclair customs and etiquette, slowly working through its intricacies.

Lord Dorian seemed overjoyed to see Quentin when he finally came downstairs, and Emrys soon realised that the warmth with which Quentin was received was a breach of protocol and surprising even to Quentin himself. He kissed Quentin three times, dedicating his affecting to his son, his house, and their progenitor; the mythical Alban. Lord Dorian was introduced to the rest of the heroes, and took a moment to exchange pleasantries with Neamhan, whom he was familiar with. He only had to correct how she addressed him ever so slightly. He then asked his Quentin to speak with him in private, and the two retreated to a chamber upstairs.

While the heroes waited for father and son to reconnect, they spoke about several things, like the history of House Morvrayne, and the mythical origin story of Beauclair noble houses. Brother Antoine, a cleric of Paladine and personal chaplain to Highlord Gauthier, came to speak with the heroes about Saint Benedict and the possibility of being able to speak with him. While the heroes had to disappoint the cleric by informing him that Prior Benedict was no longer in Kingsport, he seemed fascinated to speak to the heroes who had laid witness to his sermon at the Cathedral of the Platinum Father.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Quentin hastily caught up with his father and the situation that Lord Dorian had found himself in. Questions about the attack on the delegation were quickly deflected, and Lord Dorian explained how proud he was of his son and his success in retrieving the Fleur de Lys. Quentin, in turn, assured his father that the blade was not what everyone was hoping it was. Lord Dorian explained that with the injured Highlord, he had been vaulted into a position of power; he was expected to lead the delegation to success in the negotiations with the Lyrian throne, and underscored how politically complicated the situation was. He also explained to his son that the nobility who had travelled with the Highlord were waiting for him to fail, and referred to the other lords and ladies as “duplicitous snakes.”

Lord Dorian was confident that with his son’s help and connections at the Lyrian court, he would be able to succeed in Highlord Gauthier’s absence, elevating House Morvrayne to great renown. Quentin felt a dread rise up in him as he saw past his father’s warm façade, recognising the hunger for power and influence and the naïveté that had come to expect. He would have to discover what the political landscape at the delegation’s camp looked like, and tread very carefully while aiding his father in the negotiations with the Lyrian throne.

Untouched Cups

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Previously, Emrys managed to jump into the portal through which Epidemius and his forces invaded Kingsport. The fiend followed him into the portal and the two agreed to go their separate ways; Emrys back to Kingsport, and Epidemius back to… hell. The heroes defeated the infernal forces left behind by Epidemius, while the crownsguard and Lyrian knights routed the skaven throughout the city.

Fourth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is in low sanction)

The evening was running late after the bountiful meal. Guests were nodding off in their seats, filled with food and drink, while Andrew Selkirk sang songs and the fire roared high in the hearths. Astrid had joined the two Sheridan brothers who had decided to stay at the inn to celebrate with the heroes.

Quentin made sure that two cups of wine were filled for Adrian and Clement. They stood, untouched, on the table in front of two empty seats. It was a reminder of the sacrifice of the Morvrayne riders, and represented the loss of life in the defence of Kingsport that day. Durham had a hard time catching on to what the cups represented, and could be heard grumbling about it being “a waste of precious wine,” referring to the ongoing shortage.

When Dame Pauline came to Quentin to ask for permission to retire for the evening, Her intention was to rejoin the delegation in the morning, and Quentin asked her to inform him when it became time for her to depart.

Quentin’s mood was dour, but it was Chakuq that lifted his spirits by complimenting him on his bravery. It had been Chakuq’s experience that “steel men” rode into battle only when victory had all but been secured, stealing the glory from the men and women that had done the heavy lifting. Chakuq was happy that Quentin was not like that, and was glad to call him a friend. Quentin, in turn, said that the feeling was mutual, but Chakuq expressed disappointment in himself due to the fear he had felt for Epidemius on the battlefield.

Quentin departed for his bedroom, while Neamhan continued to observe the tavern room, stewing on the fact that Epidemius got away. It felt like a Pyrrhic victory, and her frustration grew with every passing hour, until Lauryn took her out of her reverie by warning her that “the storm in your heart stirs the air around you.” An itch on the back of her hand reminded Neamhan that she was still marked.

Emrys spent some time talking to Andrew about the fight on Steward’s Square. There was no doubt in Emrys’ mind that the bard would use the details he gave him to compose a song and further spread the tales of the Heroes of the White Eye. Andrew, in turns, told Emrys that the Beauclair delegation had brought a small army of troubadours and trobairitz with them. As they had made their way through the westerlands, these troubadours had split off from the delegation and had spread their songs far and wide. Andrew had travelled to Kenton recently and had listened to one of the troubadours perform there, and remarked that all of the songs were about the history of House Lys and how they stood for Beauclair virtues and chivalry. The Fleur de Lys, the legendary sword the heroes knew as Róisín, featured prominently in these songs. He also warned Emrys that Villem of Landsdowne, the famous auctioneer, had come to the College of Bards and investigated the Fleur de Lys and had been helped by the headmaster of the college; the legendary Papillon.

Eventually, when most people had either nodded off in their seats, and the only entertainment was an ongoing arm-wrestling match between Marcus and Astrid, Emrys snapped out of his contemplations and he went up to his room. He spotted his lute case, and was reminded of the note hidden away by Lady Annabella; “And death shall have no dominion.”

Fifth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is in low sanction, Darkmoon is waxing)

Each hero was plagued by nightmares, reliving the most horrifying parts of the battle against Epidemius; threats made by hamatulas, the savagery of the rat ogres, and the fury of the erinyes. For some, it was the peak beyond the seal that kept them jerking awake.

When Luca came down after eighth bell, he found Neamhan and Lauryn at the bar drinking morning brew. The weather outside was calm but cold, with snow gently blanketing the city in white. Intuitively, Neamhan knew that later that day the weather would turn grey and stormy. She recognised that Luca had the same rough night that she had and that he had not recovered from the fight. Neamhan used her connections to envelop the young arcanist in a gust of reinvigorating wind, partially healing his wounds. This startled Luca, and while he was grateful, he had asked Neamhan to ask for permission to use her magic on him next time.

Lauryn was curious about the battle and the adversaries the heroes faced. Luca explained that hamatulas and erinyes were devils, and that they were different from the savage demons, and enigmatic yugoloths. This lead to him explaining about different realms of existence, about the realm of fairy and its courts, where Wynn and the dragonling came from.

It was a rarity that Neamhan and Luca connected and shared some personal thing; Luca about his ability to absorb knowledge, starkly contrasted against his inability to fit in where he grew up, and Neamhan about her husband Gabhan, who was patient, kind, and caring.

Luca spent some time reading through a book named The Luminous Enchiridion of Thunda, written in archaic Lyrian, a language that he had not mastered as well as Quentin seemed to have after returning from Old Llygad. It was a curious book which only revealed its writing when illuminated by a magical light. He found that the work was an academic treatise on the nature of magic, and could, provided he invest some time into it, act as an excellent reference guide while researching a wide variety of topics on the arcane.

Emrys, Quentin, and Astrid all came down late. Quentin had washed and groomed himself, and was dressed to represent his station. He had fallen out of the habit, which showed by the small cut he had given himself while shaving, but today would likely be the first of many things he had to get reacquainted with.

Everyone was surprised to see Falka walk through the door of the inn, carrying a few books. She had been gone for a day or two and nobody knew where she’d gone off to. It turns out she had reached out to James and gotten access to the Newport vault, where she had spent some time perusing the library, much to her delight. It became clear that she had no idea how much time had passed, or that she had missed the confrontation with Epidemius. She informed the heroes that James had tracked down a fellow by the name of Garvan, who was in charge of excavating the vault. There was progress, but funds were limited.

A messenger arrived at the inn who delivered a summons to Quentin to present himself at the Beauclair delegation’s camp north of the river Lyn. It also stated that the Morvrayne riders were to be restationed at the camp in order to improve the visibility of House Morvrayne at the camp. Emrys’ keen eye observed that the interaction between Quentin and the messenger was intricate, and dense with social queues he did not quite understand yet.

The time was close to depart, and everyone got ready. Luca used his obedience to appear as the Baronette of Evenshade Hall, and he also helped Astrid to freshen up. Chakuq made note of the symbols that everyone was wearing; the swan volant of House Morvrayne for Quentin, the blue markings on Astrid’s face, the symbol of St. Aureus on Luca’s lapel, and the crescent moon of Sehanine on Emrys’ scabbard. He hatched a plan to find a stone cutter who could carve the tooth he had harvested from Epidemius’ mount into seven symbols.

Quentin asked Wojciech to pick up his horse and arrange for horses for the rest of the heroes, and the stable master headed off to the Bridle, accompanied by Neamhan and Chakuq. On the way back, Neamhan’s attention was caught by Goodman, who asked her to pass along a message to Quentin. She agreed, and the two came to a cease fire in the process.

After arriving back at the Careless Wanderer and having a conversation with the horses about personal riding preferences, Neamhan went inside and handed Quentin the note. It read:

Lord Quentin, as you go into the fray, please remember:

The earth was sown with early flowers, the heavens blue and bright,
I met a gallant cavalier as lovely as the light.
I knew him not, but in my heart, his graceful image lies,
And well I marked his open brow, his sweet and tender eyes.
He carried sword and scabbard, full of leaves and blossoms mixed,
Encased by vines and verdant growth, with flowering blooms betwixt.
Plunging sword in barren soil, crops and vintage grew,
The hungry, famished and the starved were given life anew.

Faithfully,

Lord Andrew of House Selkirk

Sly and Subtle Folk

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Previously, Neamhan delivered Quentin’s steel-bound letter to the Beauclair delegation’s camp, meeting both Lord Dorian and Highlord Gauthier. Finding that Lady Gwenaëlle was part of the delegation, Neamhan felt it important to try one more time to restore Quentin’s memory of his betrothed.

Third Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

Neamhan flew east, Quentin clutched in her vicious talons, for several hours until Gheolgothis, the enormous tree that formed the Seat of Friendship with its boughs, came into sight. She decided to land a few minutes to the north to give her some privacy to change back to her elven form, and for Quentin to gather himself after the cold and uncomfortable flight. The had departed at the eleventh bell, and they walked into the clearing of the Seat of Friendship just past the second bell past noon.

As they approached they noticed a druid, wearing a green tartan, in the tree-line, accompanying a comely, young woman, who had gathered firewood together. In the clearing, another druid, this one wearing a blue tartan, was tending to a modest bonfire. The last druid, wearing a red tartan, a thick fur, and a hood adorned with antler parts, was going around the clearing, talking to the different folk that came to rest underneath the great oak’s protection. Neamhan knew him as Ciarán.

There was a group of szygani fixing a wagon, a halfling couple having a picnic, a troop of dwarves finding some rest, and a merchant with several guards preparing to head to Kingsport. There were also two women, one middle-aged, the other one elderly, who were sitting at a small fire preparing food. Besides them stood a powerful, horned bull with a black hide, restlessly stomping the ground and occasionally rutting one of its horns through the soil.

When Ciarán noticed Neamhan and Quentin he made his way over to chat. When Quentin introduced himself, Ciarán immediately recognised him to be one of the Heroes of the White Eye. The druid went to ask for some food from the halflings and brought it back to the heroes, together with some warm tea. Neamhan explained that Quentin had lost part of his memory, which she wanted to restore, using the Seat of Friendship as a place of power to boost the efficacy of the ritual. When Ciarán asked after the source of Quentin’s memory loss, Neamhan explained that she was opposing the Ladies of Three. Ciarán said that while she was welcome to use the Seat of Friendship as a place to perform her ritual, he could not aid her in any way, lest the druids lose their neutrality. He showed the heroes a burrow in between the massive roots of Gheolgothis, which the druids used for shelter, and offered that as suitable place to perform the ritual, away from the eyes of any travellers.

While the heroes continued to talk to Ciarán about druidic magic and the influence of the moons, the restless bull become more and more restless, and louder in its protestations. One of the three women went try and calm the beast, and was aided by one of the druids. Ciarán decided to leave Neamhan and Quentin to their conversation as they prepared for the ritual. Neamhan tried to guide Quentin to find connection to Gheolgothis, and later to the swan of House Morvrayne, but the constant rutting of the bull became an undeniable distraction.

Neamhan lost her patience with the situation and went over to check on the bull and see if she could get it to calm down. The woman who was dealing with the bull was being very rough with it, and the druid was nearby but did not look about to interfere with the woman’s handling of the beast. Neamhan reached out and asked the bull what was wrong. The only thing that came back was frustration, anger and sadness, it kept lamenting its position and questioning why it was in the situation it found itself in. “Why me?” it asked, “I did everything I was supposed to! I made a mistake…”

Granny Griselda, the older woman, interrupted Neamhan, warning her to stay away from her bull. She seemed unconcerned for the beast’s well-being, and when Neamhan, in a fit of frustration, asked her whether the elderly woman was evil, she casually responded that indeed, she was. It suddenly hit Neamhan that the three women, the mother, the maiden, and the crone, were not there by coincidence. A chill went down Neamhan’s spine, and she asked the old woman not who she was… but what she was.

It felt as if time inside the glade had come to a stop. Only Neamhan, Quentin and the three women were there, while everyone else seemed frozen in time. What are you? That question hung in the an air pregnant with tension.

Most fae are sly and subtle folk,
who step as soft as cauldron smoke.

Some go among your kind enshaedn,
glamoured like an oxen laden.

Or wearing gowns to fit a queen,
we know enough to not be seen.

Many of the darker sort
would love to use you for their sport,

and make you pawns within their within their court.
Sacrifice you, no last resort.

What keeps them from their moonlit trespass?
Iron, fire, mirror-glass,

elm, and ash, and copper knives,
and solid-hearted farmer’s wives,

who know the rules of games we play
and give us bread to stay away.

But worst of all, my people dread,
the portion of the power we shed,

when we set foot on mortal earth,
you are more trouble than you’re worth.

While moons are full you may still laugh,
but know there is a darker half.

A clever mortal fears the night
without a hint of sweet moonlight.

On such a night each step you take
might catch you in the Darkmoon’s wake,

and pull you witless into fae,
where you’ll have no choice but to stay.

And on such unfamiliar ground,
how can a mortal help but drown?

Unless they are of lineage pure,
yes, then perhaps they might endure.

And if they’re meant to keep the gate,
protect the threshold t’be their fate,

then their blood best not be banal,
not common stock, but sangreal.

At that point, both Mother Dudenka, and Maiden Meshka, the maiden, joined Granny Griselda to raise their hands in the air, and repeated “Sangreal! Sangreal!”

Granny Griselda offered Neamhan the option of bargaining for Quentin’s memory, and when it looked as if Neamhan was considering it Quentin strongly objected. He felt that he struck a bargain with the Good Sisters and that it was his burden to bear. He did not want Neamhan to be indebted to the sisters as well. Neamhan realised that if the sisters were ready to bargain with her that they must think that Neamhan could succeed. This emboldened her, and she returned with Quentin to the druid’s burrow between the trees roots despite Quentin pleading with her not to go through with it.

Neamhan communed with Gheolgothis only to learn that the Good Sisters were owed hospitality, as were the heroes. It would not interfere, but would also not allow either party to interfere with one another. As such, it kept the necrophages that had begun prowling along the outskirts of the Seat of Friendship, undoubtedly at the call of the sisters, at bay.

The sisters watched calmly, smiling, as Neamhan performed the ritual. This time she was able to break the hold the sisters had over Quentin’s memory, aided by the place of power. Quentin could once again remember, both Gwenaëlle, as well as the deal he struck with the sisters. The one thing that was missing, the thing that was not restored, was any sense of affection for his betrothed. He felt no fondness, no warm, only duty.

The sisters continued to smile, claiming that a bargain had been struck. They quietly turned away and started to prepare for their departure from the Seat of Friendship. Quentin, recovered from the realisation of what happened, ran back to the clearing and yelled that there were necrophages. The visitors sprang into action; the dwarves grabbed for their weapons, the guards that accompanied the merchant moved into a defensive position, and the druids each covered a side of the woods around Gheogothis.

The necrophages soon disappeared as the sisters departed from the Seat of Friendship. Neamhan and Quentin said their goodbyes to the druids and headed north, into the woods. Frustration overcame Quentin as Neamhan turned into her eagle form. “What have you done!?” he raged, before Neamhan carried him back to Kingsport.

Last Minute Errands

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Previously, the heroes had attempted to rally support for their plan to oppose Epidemius when he would reappear in Kingsport. Luca and Emrys had spoken to the head archmage at the Circle of Magi, and Quentin had written a letter to his father that Neamhan had delivered.

Second Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

As Neamhan flew west to deliver Quentin’s steel-bound letter to his father, Luca found his way to the Tomb of St. Catherine in order to speak to Jan. He found the custodian in a private chapel inside the abbey. It was lit by hundreds of candles and besides Jan, who was sitting in front of the altar, there was only his wife, who was feverishly praying behind a wooden partition.

Jan was recovering from surgery which had taken more of his arm than had already been taken by Xarrombus, and he had bandages around his shoulder which were stained with blood. He looked sweaty and feverish, which Luca took to be the same malady that had been afflicting all the wounded and sick in the city ever since Epidemius had first appeared.

Luca attempted to talk to Jan about the whispers he had heard and the dark mist he seen, but it was a difficult conversation, fraught with misunderstanding. When Luca said that he had a patron, Jan drew the wrong conclusion, and Luca had to tell him that the patron was a celestial being. Jan was still unsure, and had tried to deny the voice in his head by praying to St. Catherine. That, as well as the sudden elevation in status within the order of custodians, the revelations he had been exposed to, and the injury he had sustained, it had put a lot of pressure on him.

The two sat together for a while, both praying, until eventually Jan went back to singing his lament. Luca quietly left the chapel and went back to the Careless Wanderer.

Quentin was still raw from the cryptic revelations that Vydia had shared with him earlier, and decided to retire to his room soon after supper. To find peace, he decided to fall back on the rituals and ceremonies that he was taught by Cardinal Roark, and prayed to the Raven Queen for guidance.

Sparked by Vydia’s revelations about the petrified rose, Emrys decided to retrieve his lute from his new lute case and compose a song about the Lady Without Ending. And Chakuq spent the evening in song, to centre himself and calm his mind.

When Luca returned to the Careless Wanderer, he did something he had never done before; he asked Durham for a drink. Durham quickly surmised that the weight of the world was pressing down on Luca’s shoulders, and he called Lauryn, Ramsey and Wojciech to join. He poured each a cup of viscous liquor the colour of dandelions, made by Wojciech, and for a few minutes, all five of them were enjoying the drink in silence together. It tasted of honey and herbs.

Third Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

Around the fourth bell, Neamhan finally arrived in Kingsport and found that Lauryn had woken up from her reverie, just in time to let Neamhan inside so she could find her bed and get some rest.

Between seventh and eighth bell breakfast was served and most of the heroes woke up. Chakuq asked after the gear that the heroes had gathered during their adventures, and how it might be useful in their opposition to Epidemius. This spawned a conversation about visiting Ecgbrith, the cantankerous herbalist who lived on the outskirts of Kingsport. He always charged extortionate prices for restorative ointments and healing draughts, but it might be worth the visit.

Céleste Deschamps came calling to the Careless Wanderer once again, together with two stevedores and she followed Durham down into the basement in order to retrieve more wine barrels and transport them onto a river boat by way of the quayside dock.

Quentin shared his decision to stay away from the auctioneer who was going to validate the authenticity of Róisín. He would need the sword while he opposed Epidemius, and therefore maintaining a ruse would be very challenging. Quentin was coming around to the idea of giving up the sword, but not before helping the two personalities inside the sword find an equilibrium.

Neamhan eventually woke up just before the tenth bell, and found her way downstairs  to join the others for a late breakfast. When she relayed the news that cavalry was coming for Kingsport everyone got very excited, especially Quentin. Neamhan believed there to be between sixty and seventy riders, a combination of riders from House Morvrayne and knights of the Order of the Lance.

After explaining that Highlord Gauthier was travelling with his daughter, Neamhan suggested taking Quentin to the Seat of Friendship for another attempt at breaking the curse of the Sisters of the Grove and restoring Quentin’s memory of his betrothed. She convinced Luca to give her a lyrium crystal, since she would need materials to perform the ritual, and she could substitute them for the crystal.

Before departure, Quentin spends some time in his room together with Ser Fulton’s shield. The shield had been in his possession ever since the knight died in Atilesceon’s tower, but he had never truly unlocked the powers of the shield. He spent some time etching the names of Hejduk, Ser Fulton, Astrid and Hamish into the back of the shield, to represent the people that Quentin felt he had not been able to save. Spending that time with the shield allowed Quentin to access the deeper magics that the shield possessed.

Neamhan and Quentin departed and left the city through the Eastern Gate and found a secluded spot about a mile out for Neamhan to transform into a giant eagle. She snatched Quentin up in her talons and flew off, heading east towards the Seat of Friendship.

Chakuq picked up his silvered dagger and silver-tipped arrows from Dagran, and the heroes went to visit Ecgbrith while they waited for Lady Commander Miranda to come back from patrolling the skies above Kingsport. The herbalist, who lived in a wooden cottage on the eastern outskirts of Kingsport, was, predictably, in a bad mood. But the heroes died find him willing to part with some of his salves, ointments and draughts. His prices were incredibly high, and while the heroes possessed many riches, those did not come in the form of hard coin, which made paying for the goods a problem.

After some haggling and Luca binding himself in a promise, the heroes bought a healing draught for Astrid, and four potions which would temporarily bolster the constitution of the one to drink it. The promise that Luca bound himself to was to pay Ecgbrith 400 gold crowns by Midsummer, which was half the crowns that was owed on the potions.

The visit to the lady commander was uneventful. The heroes learned that she and Lieutenant William had been in conversation about blocking off Steward’s Square, which was in line with what the heroes wanted. She could also inform the heroes that both the crownsguard as well as the custodians would be ready to defend the square and the city from Epidemius. When she learned about the approach of the riders from the delegation, she mused that it was likely that the pride of the Lyrian knights did not allow them to let the Beauclair knights take the honour of defending the city.

Unfortunately, despite Neamhan’s request for the heroes to ask Lady Commander Miranda whether she would be allowed to visit with Frostfeather, her griffon, they forgot before leaving just before noon.

Calling in the Cavalry

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Previously, Neamhan had flown to the Seat of Friendship for help and upon her return had found that Quentin had written a letter which he wanted delivered to the delegation which was travelling from Beauclair to Kingsport. Neamhan volunteered to deliver it, though that took some persuading.

Second Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

After having taken off from the balcony of the church room at the Careless Wanderer, Neamhan flew west, along the Beauclair boulevard, in search of the delegation. She had taken the shape of a peregrine falcon. In her talons she carried Quentin’s message, bound in a ring of steel, which she knew to hold a special significance to the Beauclairois.

It did not take Neamhan long to distinguish between the different type of light along the road; the torchlight of night-time riders, the lanterns outside of farm houses, the braziers of small settlements and eventually the bonfires of the delegation. Neamhan could not believe how many tents, fires, and banners she saw stretched out across a field to the south of the road. She circled above the camp and saw tents in reds, blues, and golds, with many of them flying flags and banners carrying different heralds.

Having been shown what the banner of House Morvrayne looked like, Neamhan found a cluster of burgundy tents, edged in blue, which flew the banners she was looking for. The became clear to Neamhan that every house, every order, every group had their own section of the camp, which could be identified by the colours and banners that they erected.

After Neamhan had found a copse of trees away from the camp where she could discretely transform back to her elven form, she walked through the camp towards the largest tent of the Morvrayne cluster. Neamhan estimated that House Morvrayne had twenty people in their retinue, if the size and number of tents was anything to go by. There were carts stacked with provisions, horses and beasts of burden, knights, armsmen, squires and servants, all in service of House Morvrayne.

In front of the main tent’s canopy stood two guards, a moustachioed man and a young woman. The man turned out to speak little to no Lyrian, and the woman was hard to convince that Neamhan brought news from Quentin. Eventually Neamhan managed to convince the guard, Dame Pauline, that she was to be taken seriously by showing the letter, bound by the steel ring. Actually, it was after Neamhan angrily tossed the letter at Dame Pauline, but it had the desired effect.

The young knight left her shield, took up a banner and instructed Neamhan to follow her. Dame Pauline marched through the camp, passing armsmen who saluted her. She brought Neamhan to the very centre of camp where the largest tent was erected. It flew the lily banner of House Lys. Dame Pauline handed Neamhan back the steel-bound letter after planting the banner into the ground in front of the tent, besides a row of other banners belonging to other houses.

The interior of the enormous tent was lavishly decorated with furniture, carpets, and banners. The centre piece was a heavy table that could set a dozen people. At the head of the table stood a wooden throne with elaborately carved back and arm-rests. The table was littered with papers, maps, plates of food and cups of wine. Servants were walking off and on delivering food, pouring wine, while soldiers delivered missives and reports.

A middle-aged man with square shoulders and thick limbs sat on the throne. His hair was blonde, and he wore a colourful, silk doublet of blue and gold over a white, ruffled shirt. A short, blue cape was asymmetrically draped across his shoulders, revealing a white, silk interior. Had the clothing not been immaculately tailored for his otherwise loutish frame, it might have looked misplaced, but as it stood, the man wore it very well. Neamhan would soon learn that the man at the head of the table was Highlord Gaulthier Lys.

At the table to the Highlord’s right sat a young, golden-haired woman, wearing a light blue skirt of many layers of sheer material. She wore a headscarf of white and blue which covered her head and neck, made from the same material as her skirt. A billowing white shirt, adorned with lace flowed from a tight corset, and a comforter made of fox fur lay around her shoulders. This was Highlord Gauthier’s daughter, Lady Gwenaëlle.

Next to Lady Gwenaëlle sat a soberly dressed man with dark brown hair, wearing black tunic over simple breeches and a grey cloak around his shoulders. He had a neatly trimmed moustache and beard, and wore a simple, square black hat. His name was Monsieur Beauregard, and he seemed to be one of the highlord’s advisors.

On the highlord’s left, opposite to Lady Gwenaëlle sat an older knight with pale blonde hair, wearing an exquisitely decorated suit of armour. A beautiful filigree design was carved into his breastplate, and it was adorned with silver. While decorated, his armour was more than ceremonial, indicated by a strong gorget which reached to the man’s chin, and asymmetrically sized pauldrons. He wore a scarlet cloak, fastened to smaller of the two pauldrons by a silver brooch. This was Ser Uthred Locke, knight captain to the Order of the Lance.

Besides the knight, opposite to Monsieur Beauregard, sat Lord Dorian Morvrayne, a handsome, middle-aged man with dark brown hair and a beautifully groomed, full moustache and beard. He wore an embroidered doublet of blue and red, with simple breeches and a warm, fur-lined cloak.

Next to Lord Dorian sat Ser Croy du Menezioù, the master-at-arms of House Morvrayne. He was probably the eldest person to sit the table, with thinning white hair and icy-blue eyes, but radiated endurance. He was wearing half-plate armour and a black cloak, and was stiffly leaning towards Lord Dorian to whisper council into his ear.

The rest of the people in the tent were a mixture of Lys guards, advisors and servants.

At the foot of the table, nearest to the entrance, and with their backs to Neamhan and Dame Pauline, two guards flanked a common man with a big belly, a balding head and a thick moustache. Patiently waiting for a moment to present themselves, Dame Pauline, moved Neamhan to stand away from the entrance and away from the foot of the table. Neamhan noticed that Dame Pauline was a strong and beautiful woman, with a thick auburn braid, striking green eyes, and a kind face.

The highlord scolded the man at the foot of the table, a quartermaster and Lyrian in the highlord’s service, for having given out wine to people outside of camp, against the direct orders of the highlord. The man stammered a response about there being a wine shortage and he being able to sell at a premium price, but the highlord ignored him, claiming that the shortage was the exact reason for the order. Highlord Gauthier consulted with Monsieur Beauregard on a fitting punishment, and the soberly dressed man suggested cutting off the man’s thumbs to set an example to other quartermasters who might disobey. The highlord thought it fitting and the dismemberment, and demoted him to the kitchens to see whether the man could peel potatoes without his thumbs.

When Highlord Gauthier sensed that Ser Uthred did not approve of the decision to take the man’s thumbs, he addressed the knight. Ser Uthred said that he could not pretend to understand why such a harsh punishment was necessary, but also did not seem inclined to argue the matter. Highlord Gauthier firmly reiterated his prohibition again.

Neamhan suddenly realised that there was something bigger going on, and that this somehow had something to do with Céleste’s visits to the Careless Wanderer, but before she knew it, Dame Pauline moved her to the foot of the table, front and centre of all attention. After an inelegant introduction, where Neamhan may or may not have tripped, cursed and failed to execute a proper bow, she held out the letter to Lord Dorian.

Silence fell across the tent as everyone looked at the steel ring binding the letter. The only exception seemed to be Ser Uthred, who may not have understood the significance of the ring. Lord Dorian read the letter and then suggested to the highlord that some privacy would be advisable, and the highlord dismissed almost everyone from the tent. Only the people at the table, the odd guard and advisor, and Dame Pauline and Neamhan remained.

The letter was passed down the table and everyone read it carefully. When it returned to Lord Dorian, who said that the situation was quite unusual. Highlord Gauthier concurred, but explained that Lord Dorian was an unusual son, having succeeded in what was considered impossible; recovering the Fleur de Lys. At that point the highlord shot his daughter an disapproving look. Highlord Gauthier suggested to take the letter seriously, and asked how many men Lord Dorian could send in aid. Lord Dorian believed he could send a dozen riders, and the highlord concurred.

Ser Uthred asked whether he would be permitted to know what the letter said. Lord Dorian read the letter aloud. The Lyrian knight was troubled and became pensive. When Lord Dorian asked the highlord if he would be willing to commit knights to the cause, the highlord declined, saying that it would be inappropriate. The highlord’s daughter concurred that it would be inappropriate before the marriage had taken place. It was clear to Neamhan that Lady Gwenaëlle had nothing but disdain for House Morvrayne.

Ser Uthred could not contain his derision, stood up, and proclaimed that he and the eight companies of knights he had under his command would ride for Kingsport to protect his queen. Any conversations about finance could be conducted later, a comment that Neamhan did not immediately understand. The Lyrian knight then left the tent in order to make preparations for the Lyrian knights to depart camp.

The meeting was concluded and Neamhan was excused. Lord Dorian, Ser Croy and Dame Pauline lead Neamhan back to the Morvrayne part of the camp. Neamhan joined Lord Dorian in his tent while Ser Croy and Dame Pauline readied the Morvrayne riders for departure.

The conversation between Neamhan and Lord Dorian mostly concerned Quentin and his well-being as well as the Fleur de Lys and its wonders. Lord Dorian admitted that he long thought his son lost to him because of the foolish quest Lady Gwenaëlle sent him on. Lord Dorian had food served for Neamhan as they spoke, allowing Neamhan to recover some of the strength she would need for the return journey.

Ser Croy joined them once he was done readying the riders. House Morvrayne would send ten riders under the command of Dame Pauline. Ser Croy and one guard would stay behind as Lord Dorian’s personal guard. Ser Croy was obviously proud of Quentin and said that he was happy to hear that Quentin succeeded in retrieving the sword. Lord Dorian shot a laugh at Ser Croy and said that the predictions of the Ladies of the Woods was nothing but superstition!

Neamhan almost choked on her food and immediately questioned what Lord Dorian had just said. He dismissed her questions but she persisted, to the point where she crossed a line and Lord Dorian ran out of patience. This time Lord Dorian dismissed Neamhan from his presence and she left the tent. She spoke to Ser Croy outside and he begged her forgiveness for his Lord’s behaviour.

Ser Croy explained that Lord Dorian was a modern man who did not believe in the superstitions of the woodland and mountain folk of Monts d’Arée. Three wise women who lived in the woods outside of Albancourt had counselled House Morvrayne for generations. Lord Armand, Quentin’s grandfather, had only once disregarded the advice from the ladies, and tragedy struck, leading to the death of his oldest son, Quentin’s uncle, for which he was named.

When Lord Dorian had made the match with the second daughter of House Lys, the ladies protested, saying that the Blood of Alban needed to be protected, but Lord Dorian’s ambition would not allow him to listen. Lord Dorian never cared for the old ways, Ser Croy said, believing that clinging to those traditions had impoverished the house. The Blood of Alban, he continued, was the ability to trace an unbroken ancestral line all the way back to the progenitor of House Morvrayne; Prince Alban.

Eventually, Neamhan said her goodbyes to Ser Croy and walked out of the camp to find a secluded spot where she could transform back into the peregrine falcon. She flew east along the coast, quickly catching up with the companies of Lyrian knights, their lances gleaming silver in the moonlight, quickly followed by a company of riders from House Morvrayne. She would beat them to Kingsport by several hours.