The
flap of the tent falls silently behind the guest.
The half-elven woman stands before him, quietly awaiting his attention. Her
black plaited tresses spill over her simple emerald-and-iron diadem framing her
face in an almost elvish perfection. Her supple leather shines with care, her
longsword hanging loosely at her side.
Aeric, the man of the hour, stands in a simple tent erected in the provincial area of the Giant's
Fastness. This tent was planted here for one reason this meeting. Inside the
tent is only a table with a map of the barony and outlying areas spread before
you. The half-elven woman, the Baroness Fhiele Dhoesone, strides behind the
table facing Aeric, studies him forthright.
"Greetings, Aeric,"
quotes the Baroness melodically, her hands neatly intertwined in front of
her, "This barony has prospered in the past years, and
well, I think it's time to think forward. After countless hours thinking about
this, I've decided to declare you, Aeric of Romiene, my champion in this
endeavour."
Color diffuses the regent's face,
"My goodness, I'm stepping ahead of myself, you see well,
Anuirean politics have always been rough, but all agree the Gorgon is a threat
to the welfare of all. If it's a widely agree threat why isn't anyone doing
anything? Well the Gorgon is isolated from us. No Anuirean nation touches them
and well, who wants to march through goblin, elvish and dwarven territory? So my
idea is this: We need to settle the Giantdowns and rally them together to ensure
the downfall of the awnsheigh the Gorgon."
She smiles, "Admittedly,
this is a scheme for a dreamer, but what are we if we cannot dream? My chief
adviser, Helaene Dosiere, suggests that this is a flight of fancy, he may be
right of course, but I've selected the best our land has to offer, each of you
deserves a chance such as this."
With a sigh and a slight frown, she continues, "Well,
if you do accept, then understand that the Baronial Crown cannot offer much
assistance for that would garner the attention of the awhsheigh, but advice I
can give freely."
"Take this," she hands you a scroll,
"Give it to Hogrun Hjalsson in
Midjarna Village,
he will provide you with work. If you learn the area, learn the people, and save
the area from the petty monsters and giant-kin you will win the land.
"One last
thing, Hogrun and the rest of the Giantdowns do not know your true mission, keep
it that way," with that final admission, she asks, “Now... Any questions Aeric?”
The man
summoned surveys the map, rubbing his chin, almost making the baroness wait.
Without words, the baroness arches a brow at his impertinence and awaits his
questions.
Aeric, the
bastard son of the Count Romiene, answers finally,
“Settling the Giantdowns will be no easy task, but
you have seen fit to charge me with the mission, I will make it so.”
The baroness nods, circling the table to be in front of it, she leans against
the table casually, crossing her arms cockily. Mildly shocked this was in
question she murmurs, “I'm sure you will, for whom
else can I entrust with such a mission? Your father would have done the same for
the Baron.”
Aeric nods briefly, continuing his questions, “Is
this Hjalsson to be trusted, or is he but a trade contact, or something of the
sort?”
The leader of
this land looks at Aeric, as if deciding how much to tell. Finally she shrugs,
“Admittedly, there is much I do not know about the
man, but he is as trustworthy of the Rjuriks as you can find and is a hero among
the Rjurik people, although I hear he's in retirement.”
Aeric absorbs
this, pursing his lips in thought. Finally he points to the scroll.
“Does the scroll have your seal, as a letter of
introduction? Or is it... something else...”
Taken aback,
the baroness stands up abruptly, her eyes narrow,
“Something else? Explain yourself.”
Aeric
continues, “Since we are
to have no official sanction of our mission, yet we will be going forward, into
their territory, ostensibly with the goal of undermining their government, with
little or no backing, I wonder what else has transpired ere we were selected.”
The baroness’
body goes slack again. She studies Aeric, as if seeing someone different. The
tent flaps flutter in the morning breeze, whilst birds outside chirp random
melodies. A soft breeze tingles the baroness’ face as she ponders.
Aeric does not stop, but keeps talking, “I
will put it as delicately as I may, Milady Dhoesone...do you have enemies there,
that we are to watch for, or is it a straightforward thrust towards establishing
the Giantdowns as your March, with myself as Marquis?”
She replies,
“How very astute, Aeric, but remember there is no
government there, not even a mayor or villager council in the one major human
settlement. So I ask you this, should I use brute force to take the area, give
you a company of soldiers?” She laughs, “I can
barely raise a unit of my own. No, stealth is needed.”
Aeric nods in agreement, “Yes, of course… I realize
full well that marching in under the flag of Dhoesone would only raise the
specter of War between House Dhoesone, and the Jarls. I know that the people of
the Giantdowns harbor resentment, and will not serve under the yoke of another.
Very well, then, I will lead this small force into the Gaintdowns. When we
establish ourselves as capable, I will be looking to your crown to aid is in
delivery of suitable farmers. We will clear the area of hostile Fhomorians, one
province at a time.
“I accept the mission, and we will
need mounts for 6, with a suitable pack train of three months of supplies, to
get us to Midjarna, and for scouting. I ask this boon, or such as may be
spared.”
The baroness
stands up and walks behind the table again in thought, “A
pack train is ridiculous, you need to understand this is a covert mission, I
thought I made that clear.”
Aeric bows
low, “Forgive me, Milady. We will make do with our
own resources. With your permission, we will depart.”
She concedes, “Mounts I have in spades, and can
certainly provide you with those. Hmm... Have you thought about taking your crew
to be hired as mercenaries? Well, no bother you can figure that out.”
Aeric says
simply, "Mounts would
be a great boon."
The baroness
scribbles something on a piece of parchment, and seals it with her ring. She
hands it to one of the red-shirted guards outside her tent. She steps back in
and smiles, “Very well,
meet my right-hand man, Helaene, at the old druid grove outside the former
fortress. He will come with the mounts and if you decide to find such mercenary
work as cover he can provide you with that.”
Aeric nods.
“You charity is most appreciated. How often should
we report? Do we report only after we have accomplished major gains?”
Baroness
replies, “Helaene will give you instructions on how to reach me. Now are there
any more questions?”
Seeming
satisfied, Aeric Romiene smiles, “None. With your
permission, we will depart.”
The baroness
nods and smiles with a twinkle, “One last thing...”
The Baroness
Fhiele Dhoesone pulls her longsword swiftly from her scabbard with a deep whish
sound. She points it directly at Aeric and tosses her hair lightly back.
“Kneel”
Baroness
Fhiele Dhoesone steps forward, bonking Aeric thrice on the shoulders, right,
left, right...
Aeric seems
stunned, but shows no sign and remains silent.
The baroness
murmurs in a chant-like voice, “I, Fhiele Dhoesone,
Baroness of Dhoesone and Crown Princess to the Forest Kingdom of Tuarhievel,
acknowledge Aeric of the County of Romiene to be deserving of noble birth and
bequeath to him the right to conquer the Giantdowns in the crown's name, until
that day of conquering, he shall be known as Knight Bachelor. Do you accept?”
Aeric, well
aware of the code, replies, “I will discharge my
office with the utmost enthusiasm, honor, and valor, my Lady Dhoesone. I am
your humble servant, unto death. Long live the House of Dhoesone.”
The baroness
nods solemnly, “We accept your service and will honor
you to the end of our days... Now arise… Sir Aeric of House…”
She leans over
and whispers, “Do you have a new house name?”
Aeric looks
into her eyes, as a long moment passes. He finally replies in the same
whispered tone, “House
Crucis, Milady.”
Baroness
Fhiele Dhoesone nods, “Now... ARISE, SIR AERIC CRUCIS!!”
Aeric rises to
full height as Sir Aeric Crucis.
Suddenly
something happens, warmness diffuses his body. He shudders, and emits a loud
gasp, as is emerging from deep waters to fresh air, and a once murky perception
of the world is now lifted, to an enlightened clarity, a rarefied perception of
all things Cerilian. The land calls to his soul, as he has longer for, as he was
destined for, since his ignoble birth. His destiny has arrived, and made
manifest.
The baroness
smiles, knowing what happened, “I know great things
are to come Sir Aeric, make them happen.”
Aeric, now
stumbles a half step, “I shall.”
Baroness
Fhiele Dhoesone nods, “I know you will. Good day, Sir
Aeric of House Crucis.”
Aeric gathers
himself, as the last echoes of thunder fade in the distance.
“Milady, we will not fail."
Sir Aeric
Crucis departs, leaving the baroness alone with her thoughts.
