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[chubby2man]

King Tristan nodded his head, “They may enter and address the Diet.”
The matter of the cults went about as well as he suspected they would go. As long as he stayed favorable to all but uncommitted, the priests would try to court his favor to thier paticular diety.

[Ghazkull]

The Hill Folk Delegation



The People of the Hills had always had a rather ambiguous relationship with The High Kingdom. A story of Raiding (albeit it without many dead involved) and Trading, sometimes more of one, sometimes more of the other, made the Lowlanders look at the Hillfolk with a mixture of amusement, disdain and something to be exploited.

The delegation was led by a woman who clearly knew how to fight. Her gait, her weapons and clothing all spoke of a warrior. The Woad paintings on her face and the red mohawk made her look all the more fierce and barbaric.

Her entourage looked no different with the exception of a single priestlike figure, dressed in long robes and bearing the signs of the Dragon Cults.

"High King, a pleasure to finally meet you. And congratulations on choosing the right wife. If my sister hadn't been faster i would have offered myself...but alas, Gudrun seems to be faster once more. I am Chieftess Lwellyn Ap Lwell fear dubh den Wold, or Lwellyn daughter of Lwell the Black and of the House den Wold, although i have given up any and all claims on that.

I have come here to offer you the services of a thousand blooded swords, at the low price of first claim to the loot of any battle or siege we take part in.

[chubby2man]

King Tristan slowly nodded his head, “I accept your offer, though land rights will be under the purview of the crown. The ferocity of your warriors are well know and welcome, Chieftess Lwellyn Ap Lwell fear dubh den Wold.”

He turned to the gathered nobles, “The Wold has been ravaged by civil war for generations. Until recently, the High Kingdom of Argas was unable to aid in their plight. Gudrun den Wold and I will be wed, and then we will end this civil war and bring peace to the Wold under the banner of the High Kingdom! All who joins in this quest will be richly rewarded in new lands and rights. There will be much glory in this war, and your children and your children’s children will praise your bravery and wisdom in taking this opportunity to fight for a better future. Once I am wed, we will march south and claim our destiny!”

[Ardas]

Alexei stood to attention and raised his voice once the king made his proclamation.

"May it be known that His Majesty hereby affirms and confirms all the decisions undertaken during this diet to be his word and his law henceforth. May it be known that all gathered accept royal judgment and word and that the realm is content in the rule hence established.
Long live the King! Long live the Queen!"

He loathed the last part of that call. Gudrun, what a choice... but one dictated by circumstances, not one's preferences. If Tristan was an agreeable young man, she would be the opposite - a lot of work waited ahead for the chancellor...

If no other voices come forth, the diet is hence closed.

[micelus]

Avaris stood up.

"If I may ask, what is the chieftess' definition of 'loot'?"

Avaris also quickly considered another tidbit, but kept that stored in her memory for later.

[Ghazkull]

Lwellyn seemed to be slightly suprised. "Why. Everything we can carry with us of course! Goods, Animals, People, Materials.

[micelus]

"The usual then. That is all I needed to know."

The grainmongerer sat down once again in thought.

[Ghazkull]

It is now Midsummer of 1192

Arg Cais

The Capital was in an uproar. The usually quietly bustling roads were bursting at the seams as people flocked to the Capital to witness the events about to unfold. The King would marry! There would be War! Two Knights Raven were publicly executed! An evil Mage had joined the Order! A Dragon was seen in the west! Rumours abounded and the lines between the actual truth and what circulated in the streets blurred heavily.

But one thing was clear: some exciting months lay ahead.

Headquarter of the Raven Knights

Among the Knights morale was at an all time low. With their rights curtailed and two of their number dead, they now found themselves with a strange man from the south accepted into the order. It was clear that he was a witch and yet the Commander accepted him anyway. The man angrily gathered, demanding answers from their superior.

The Royal Wing of the Palace

One would think that in the wake of an announcement of a marriage plans would be made for said occasion and not for a war. One would be wrong. Queen-to-be Gudrun den Wold was poring over maps of the Kingdom and its surroundings together with her future husband and a select number of nobles who were not required at their fiefs for the time being.

Map of Argas and the surrounding Lands

[Rockeater]

I should look for books about magic while I am in the Capital

[Ghazkull]

War room of the Royal Palace

An awkward silence had descended upon the room as the King had excused himself for feeling ill. An ill omen to some and generally an inconvenience for everyone involved in planning this campaign. It is thus of little suprise that the Queen herself took charge.

Ladies, Lords. I will tell you right now that a war in the Wold will be lengthy and costly. At the same time we cannot afford to waste time. The longer we prepare, the longer we wait, the more time we spend sieging towns and castles, the more time is left for the Southerners to decide whether they want to intervene and for the Wold-Lords to form a coherent alliance.

Lord Alexei, i believe you a responsible for the Kings Purse. How long can we sustain the campaign?


_______________________________________

An indeterminate time before that in one of the seedier Quarters of Arg Cais

Count Redpaw finds himself in the Seed-Quarters. Officially home to the Granaries of the Capital it also houses a fair amount of the seedy underbelly of the city and it was here he was sent after some generous bribing of various innkeeps, servants and mercenary guards.

[Ardas]

If Riskov disliked the queen or had any second thoughts about this situation, he did not show it. He gave a small bow when his name was mentioned.

"My queen, at present we should be able to sustain some 6 months of campaigning until the coffers are empty - in theory it gives us time until winter, when all activity will cease and we will be free to disperse our own troops. It would serve us to make a significant move as to gain advantage now and to secure our position before winter."

[Rockeater]

Enter a nearby tavern and start talking to someone moderatly drunk on the weather

[Ghazkull]

Ah the Seed Quarters, home to some of the most rundown taverns in all of Argas, which in itself is one of the more Rundown Lands in the Thousand Kingdoms. In other words, we are talking about the most rundown places in all of Old Argas. The Godslayers Sheath is probably contender for the one with the most obscene name and the most obscene door sign. You however, are undeterred by the spread legs of a whore painted on rotting pine wood and enter an equally rotten establishment.

The smell as well as the dingy furniture immediately make you want to turn around, but then again, i there is a place were scum and villainy mingle, it would be here...although you figure there is way more scum than villainy abounding in this place.

You sit down at the bar next to a man nursing a half empty pot of who you hope to the Archon is beer and start talking about the weather.

The man eyes you for a very long moment, his bleary eyes gaining an inhuman sort of focus and he puts down the beer.

"The Weather is indeed bleary, friend, but is it as bleary as the situation in the Wold? Or do you prefer the cold of Far Moss?"

[Rockeater]

"From my memories the weather in the Wold is the betterof the two, but I didn't visit any of those places in a long time so I could just remember it wrong"

[Ghazkull]

"Both? You are a man of peculiar tastes...very well follow me. I trust you have the coin on you?" The Man stands up and leads you past the bar downwards into the wine cellar of the tavern which in turn leads to rather expansive catacombs.