carborundum
Adventurer
Spectacular! I can't wait to find out if they indeed spared the Fire-Axe 
Pathfinder 1E JollyDoc's Way Of The Wicked
SolitonMan
Explorer
Please, sir...can we have some more?
17 Neth, 4718 - 26 Neth, 4718: Conquering Heroes
It had been no problem for Hillary to whisk the Fire-Axe safely way in the midst of the battle. She had simply teleported herself invisibly to his position, whispered in his ear to trust her, then teleported the two of them away. The Fire-Axe was never seen nor heard from by the people of Talingarde again, and so was presumed killed in the slaughter, even though his body was never found. It was Tardaesha’s decision to send the bugbear chieftain north, to the Agathium, leading the last of the frost giants. There he would work with Grumblejack to act as his seneschal in her absence, and to once more begin recruiting forces for the work still to come.
__________________________________________________________________
Matharyn, the capital of Talingarde was about three days ride from Brandelburn Fields. By the time the army arrived, word had long reached the desperate and panicked populace that Sakkarot Fire-Axe's horde was shattered and defeated. To say that the populace of Matharyn was jubilant was an understatement. Everywhere the typically reserved people of that lawful and good city engaged in raucous celebrations. With the army defeated at Fallingsbridge, the citizenry had been organizing an ad-hoc militia to defend the city. But everyone knew that if thousands of knights and soldiers could not defeat the Fire-Axe, their chances were nil. Still, they’d had to try. Almost every adult male was, until the news arrived of Fire-Axe's defeat, certain they would be dead in three days. The people, despite all they had suffered, had good reason to celebrate.
As the members of the Ninth Knot and their retinue rode up to the gates, they were met by a delegation led by a plump nobleman.
“Hail, saviors of Matharyn! I am Mayor Hubert Rowen. We presume you come to our fair city... ” He swallowed nervously. “... in peace?”
He bowed low.
“Stand up, Hubert, you damned fool,” came a voice from behind the Mayor.
Being carried on a litter by several armored knights bearing the heraldry of the Order of the Gryphon, was a frail old elvish nobleman.
“ Any army that could break the Fire-Axe could take Matharyn in a heart-beat,” he continued. “What we want to know is who are you and what do you want?”
“I am Tardaesha Dannister,” the high priestess replied, smiling down upon those who had gathered from her perch atop Jeratheon. “We have come to liberate Matharyn, and greater Talingarde. We have also come bearing a great gift.”
Dakota stepped forward, heavy with child, gently urging Timeon along in front of her.
“This,” Tardaesha indicated Timeon, “is Timeon Snow, bastard son of House Darius. After the events of Fallingsbridge, he knew that the time had come to live up to his family name. He went underground, and has spent these many months gathering the army you see before you. He brings with him his wife, Dakota Dannister, my sister, who bears his child. We have returned the true heirs of Talingarde to you!”
The proclamation was met with uncertain stares and mumbles.
“Do you have...proof of these claims?” Mayor Rowen asked timidly.
“Of course,” Tardaesha smiled again. “I would never expect you to just accept the word of a stranger, even one who just saved you all. I present to you the Liber Darium, the genealogy of House Darius. I trust you will find the evidence it contains proof enough.”
Mayor Rowen took the book and quickly scanned it. His eyes went wide as he handed it to the elven noble. That individual flipped thru the pages for several minutes, his eyes growing narrower and narrower. At last he handed the book back and nodded.
“Well, that settles it then,” Mayor Rowen bowed again. “We welcome you, King Timeon of House Dannister!”
___________________________________________________________________
“The remaining nobles will still have to certify your credentials, you understand?” Mayor Rowen stated.
“Of course,” Tardaesha smiled, her eyes glowing every so slightly crimson. “And you will see to it that they do...with all haste.”
The Mayor nodded, his face going slightly slack as he succumbed to the vampire’s gaze.
“The other nobles have each requested time to meet with you privately,” Rowen said, a bit flatly. “Especially Count Leothyn Barca.”
“The old elf?” Tardaesha asked. “I understand he is the brother of the last Barcan king, Jaraad, the one who was defeated by House Darius.”
“One and the same,” Rowan agreed, “but he swore his fealty to Darius after the war. He is loyal.”
“I’m sure,” Tardaesha grinned. “You will arrange a meeting with him immediately.”
_______________________________________________________________
“Let us dispense with this pretense, shall we?” Count Barca said unceremoniously as he hobbled into the drawing room where he’d had his honored guests shown upon their arrival to his estate.
“I’m no fawning fool like Mayor Rowen. I can see quite clearly who the real power is behind this new scion of House Dannister.”
“Is that so?” Tardaesha almost purred as a small smile lifted her lips. “In that case, you should know with whom you are dealing. It is not to our advantage to have such information floating about.”
“Don’t bother threatening me,” Barca waved dismissively. “I’m an old man. My time is almost done, but I would like to restore the legacy of my house before I’m gone. I would like to make you an offer.”
“Do tell,” Tardaesha leaned back in her chair.
“I know everything about every noble left in Matharyn,” Barca smirked. “Upon my word alone, I could have your new king legitimized and crowned before month’s end. Your army is impressive, but you’ll forgive me for saying so, they don’t look like the sort of soldiers who are in this for the long haul. I have at my disposal the Knights of the Gryphon, and they command twelve-hundred heavy horsemen. These could be put at your disposal, and their loyalty is unswerving.”
“How generous of you,” Tardaesha nodded. “And what would be the price of such magnanimous gifts?”
“A pittance, really,” Barca sniffed. “A seat at the table, as it were. I would humbly request an advisory position on your privy council. Oh, and there are several estates that have been left abandoned by the war. My family could make use of those holdings.”
“I see,” Tardaesha smiled again. “I think that we may be able to come to some sort of understanding, Lord Barca.”
______________________________________________________________
Over the next several days, Tardaesha, Kelvin and Dakota met with several other of the remaining nobles of Matharyn. Katarina had already done her due diligence in discreetly investigating both Master Mallory Hawthorne, and Lord Gaius Richter. She had discovered several interesting facts about their business dealings and personal lives.
Lord Richter just happened to be the nephew of the former warden of Branderscar prison, and in fact had been the driving force behind having his uncle appointed to that position. Gaius was a handsome and distinguished looking middle-aged man without scruples, who had been working tirelessly to increase his family's status for years. Though low-born, he had managed to acquire a minor title thanks to an advantageous if loveless marriage. He played the respectable noble impeccably. He was always polite, well-dressed and well-appointed. He dressed in dark colors and, up until recently, always wore a holy symbol of Iomedae. He kept a concealed, poisoned sword cane in his ivory-handled walking stick, yet his dress and speech marked him as an elegant noble gentleman. Beneath that veneer, however, Lord Gaius was an utter snake. He saw in the new regime great opportunity and was only too happy to bow before Talingarde's new masters, however wicked they may be. He came to the Dannisters with a bargaining chip: he knew that when Solomon Tyrath left the city, he left behind a single inquisitor to serve as his eyes and ears. Thanks to an overheard conversation, Lord Gaius was almost certain where the inquisitor was hiding in the city. During his private audience, he offered to trade the information for both a more formidable noble title and one of the abandoned mansions in the Golden Bow. He had even picked out the barony and the mansion he wanted in exchange for the information – Barrington. The town of Barrington was until recently held by Lord Arthur Barrington who died without heir leading his knights at the Battle of Fallingsbridge. As it so happened, the Barringtons were the family that had betrayed the Dannisters many years past. Tardaesha was only too happy to grant Gaius’ request.
There were many honest merchants in Matharyn who had made their fortunes through hard work and shrewd but fair dealings. Master Mallory Hawthorn was not one of them. Hawthorn was a living epitome of greed. An obese, gluttonous hedonist, Hawthorn's ultimate goal was to be the richest man in Matharyn. He owned a large number of inns in Wayburn and scattered throughout the kingdom. He was a ruthless merchant who for years had been constrained by the policies of House Darius. He wanted to see prostitution legalized and trade established with the mainland. But more than that, he wanted a monopoly over the foreign wine trade. With such a valuable monopoly signed and sealed by the king, he would become immensely wealthy. Master Hawthorn was unsure what the new rulers would want for a such a monopoly at first, but as he began to investigate them, he formulated a plan. He sent one of his sons, Gregory, to infiltrate the resistance in Matharyn and arrange a meeting at one of his inns late at night. Thus he could provide the new King with the location of an active cell in the city. Tardaesha was most pleased by his initiative, and appointed him Master of Coin for the privy council.
_________________________________________________________________
Within one week of the occupation of Matharyn, Timeon’s coronation was all but assured, and a splendid ceremony was arranged to celebrate the ascension of the “heir” to House Darius. The banners of House Dannister flew in the skies over Matharyn once again.
It had been no problem for Hillary to whisk the Fire-Axe safely way in the midst of the battle. She had simply teleported herself invisibly to his position, whispered in his ear to trust her, then teleported the two of them away. The Fire-Axe was never seen nor heard from by the people of Talingarde again, and so was presumed killed in the slaughter, even though his body was never found. It was Tardaesha’s decision to send the bugbear chieftain north, to the Agathium, leading the last of the frost giants. There he would work with Grumblejack to act as his seneschal in her absence, and to once more begin recruiting forces for the work still to come.
__________________________________________________________________
Matharyn, the capital of Talingarde was about three days ride from Brandelburn Fields. By the time the army arrived, word had long reached the desperate and panicked populace that Sakkarot Fire-Axe's horde was shattered and defeated. To say that the populace of Matharyn was jubilant was an understatement. Everywhere the typically reserved people of that lawful and good city engaged in raucous celebrations. With the army defeated at Fallingsbridge, the citizenry had been organizing an ad-hoc militia to defend the city. But everyone knew that if thousands of knights and soldiers could not defeat the Fire-Axe, their chances were nil. Still, they’d had to try. Almost every adult male was, until the news arrived of Fire-Axe's defeat, certain they would be dead in three days. The people, despite all they had suffered, had good reason to celebrate.
As the members of the Ninth Knot and their retinue rode up to the gates, they were met by a delegation led by a plump nobleman.
“Hail, saviors of Matharyn! I am Mayor Hubert Rowen. We presume you come to our fair city... ” He swallowed nervously. “... in peace?”
He bowed low.
“Stand up, Hubert, you damned fool,” came a voice from behind the Mayor.
Being carried on a litter by several armored knights bearing the heraldry of the Order of the Gryphon, was a frail old elvish nobleman.
“ Any army that could break the Fire-Axe could take Matharyn in a heart-beat,” he continued. “What we want to know is who are you and what do you want?”
“I am Tardaesha Dannister,” the high priestess replied, smiling down upon those who had gathered from her perch atop Jeratheon. “We have come to liberate Matharyn, and greater Talingarde. We have also come bearing a great gift.”
Dakota stepped forward, heavy with child, gently urging Timeon along in front of her.
“This,” Tardaesha indicated Timeon, “is Timeon Snow, bastard son of House Darius. After the events of Fallingsbridge, he knew that the time had come to live up to his family name. He went underground, and has spent these many months gathering the army you see before you. He brings with him his wife, Dakota Dannister, my sister, who bears his child. We have returned the true heirs of Talingarde to you!”
The proclamation was met with uncertain stares and mumbles.
“Do you have...proof of these claims?” Mayor Rowen asked timidly.
“Of course,” Tardaesha smiled again. “I would never expect you to just accept the word of a stranger, even one who just saved you all. I present to you the Liber Darium, the genealogy of House Darius. I trust you will find the evidence it contains proof enough.”
Mayor Rowen took the book and quickly scanned it. His eyes went wide as he handed it to the elven noble. That individual flipped thru the pages for several minutes, his eyes growing narrower and narrower. At last he handed the book back and nodded.
“Well, that settles it then,” Mayor Rowen bowed again. “We welcome you, King Timeon of House Dannister!”
___________________________________________________________________
“The remaining nobles will still have to certify your credentials, you understand?” Mayor Rowen stated.
“Of course,” Tardaesha smiled, her eyes glowing every so slightly crimson. “And you will see to it that they do...with all haste.”
The Mayor nodded, his face going slightly slack as he succumbed to the vampire’s gaze.
“The other nobles have each requested time to meet with you privately,” Rowen said, a bit flatly. “Especially Count Leothyn Barca.”
“The old elf?” Tardaesha asked. “I understand he is the brother of the last Barcan king, Jaraad, the one who was defeated by House Darius.”
“One and the same,” Rowan agreed, “but he swore his fealty to Darius after the war. He is loyal.”
“I’m sure,” Tardaesha grinned. “You will arrange a meeting with him immediately.”
_______________________________________________________________
“Let us dispense with this pretense, shall we?” Count Barca said unceremoniously as he hobbled into the drawing room where he’d had his honored guests shown upon their arrival to his estate.
“I’m no fawning fool like Mayor Rowen. I can see quite clearly who the real power is behind this new scion of House Dannister.”
“Is that so?” Tardaesha almost purred as a small smile lifted her lips. “In that case, you should know with whom you are dealing. It is not to our advantage to have such information floating about.”
“Don’t bother threatening me,” Barca waved dismissively. “I’m an old man. My time is almost done, but I would like to restore the legacy of my house before I’m gone. I would like to make you an offer.”
“Do tell,” Tardaesha leaned back in her chair.
“I know everything about every noble left in Matharyn,” Barca smirked. “Upon my word alone, I could have your new king legitimized and crowned before month’s end. Your army is impressive, but you’ll forgive me for saying so, they don’t look like the sort of soldiers who are in this for the long haul. I have at my disposal the Knights of the Gryphon, and they command twelve-hundred heavy horsemen. These could be put at your disposal, and their loyalty is unswerving.”
“How generous of you,” Tardaesha nodded. “And what would be the price of such magnanimous gifts?”
“A pittance, really,” Barca sniffed. “A seat at the table, as it were. I would humbly request an advisory position on your privy council. Oh, and there are several estates that have been left abandoned by the war. My family could make use of those holdings.”
“I see,” Tardaesha smiled again. “I think that we may be able to come to some sort of understanding, Lord Barca.”
______________________________________________________________
Over the next several days, Tardaesha, Kelvin and Dakota met with several other of the remaining nobles of Matharyn. Katarina had already done her due diligence in discreetly investigating both Master Mallory Hawthorne, and Lord Gaius Richter. She had discovered several interesting facts about their business dealings and personal lives.
Lord Richter just happened to be the nephew of the former warden of Branderscar prison, and in fact had been the driving force behind having his uncle appointed to that position. Gaius was a handsome and distinguished looking middle-aged man without scruples, who had been working tirelessly to increase his family's status for years. Though low-born, he had managed to acquire a minor title thanks to an advantageous if loveless marriage. He played the respectable noble impeccably. He was always polite, well-dressed and well-appointed. He dressed in dark colors and, up until recently, always wore a holy symbol of Iomedae. He kept a concealed, poisoned sword cane in his ivory-handled walking stick, yet his dress and speech marked him as an elegant noble gentleman. Beneath that veneer, however, Lord Gaius was an utter snake. He saw in the new regime great opportunity and was only too happy to bow before Talingarde's new masters, however wicked they may be. He came to the Dannisters with a bargaining chip: he knew that when Solomon Tyrath left the city, he left behind a single inquisitor to serve as his eyes and ears. Thanks to an overheard conversation, Lord Gaius was almost certain where the inquisitor was hiding in the city. During his private audience, he offered to trade the information for both a more formidable noble title and one of the abandoned mansions in the Golden Bow. He had even picked out the barony and the mansion he wanted in exchange for the information – Barrington. The town of Barrington was until recently held by Lord Arthur Barrington who died without heir leading his knights at the Battle of Fallingsbridge. As it so happened, the Barringtons were the family that had betrayed the Dannisters many years past. Tardaesha was only too happy to grant Gaius’ request.
There were many honest merchants in Matharyn who had made their fortunes through hard work and shrewd but fair dealings. Master Mallory Hawthorn was not one of them. Hawthorn was a living epitome of greed. An obese, gluttonous hedonist, Hawthorn's ultimate goal was to be the richest man in Matharyn. He owned a large number of inns in Wayburn and scattered throughout the kingdom. He was a ruthless merchant who for years had been constrained by the policies of House Darius. He wanted to see prostitution legalized and trade established with the mainland. But more than that, he wanted a monopoly over the foreign wine trade. With such a valuable monopoly signed and sealed by the king, he would become immensely wealthy. Master Hawthorn was unsure what the new rulers would want for a such a monopoly at first, but as he began to investigate them, he formulated a plan. He sent one of his sons, Gregory, to infiltrate the resistance in Matharyn and arrange a meeting at one of his inns late at night. Thus he could provide the new King with the location of an active cell in the city. Tardaesha was most pleased by his initiative, and appointed him Master of Coin for the privy council.
_________________________________________________________________
Within one week of the occupation of Matharyn, Timeon’s coronation was all but assured, and a splendid ceremony was arranged to celebrate the ascension of the “heir” to House Darius. The banners of House Dannister flew in the skies over Matharyn once again.
I’m sorry about my recentl delays in posting, and I appreciate your patience. We are currently in the midst of another campaign, and it is taking quite a bit of my time, along with life in general. Rest assured, another update is coming soon, and I swear to you I will finish the Dannisters’ sad, sordid tale in 2019.
carborundum
Adventurer
You'll hear no complaints from me, I'm many episodes behind in my own SH (Not on enworld, it's in Dutch). This SH, and your others, have inspired many awesome moments in my own campaign, so i look forward to the rest of the Dannister's Tale.
Out of interest, what are you running now?
Out of interest, what are you running now?
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
carborundum
Adventurer
Calm down, calm down, let the man breathe...
(And obviously, yes, will there?)
(And obviously, yes, will there?)
