A week has passed since the party returned to Duvik’s Pass from their successful mission in Travensburg. In that time, the party has bided its days, training and resting after the exhausting battle with orcs and mages; but, while they went in green and inexperienced, they came out of the dwarven ruins as heroes whose skill matches their reputation.
But the fallout of their actions is beginning to be felt, especially by the Fist of Duvik’s major patron, Sheriff Whiteclove. Just a few days after the party’s return, Sir Whiteclove received irate demands from a little-known faction of the Church of the Laughing God, the Order of Dark Whisperers. The mandate of the Whisperers is unknown to most, though they are rumored to have a proclivity for corpses and their places of rest. The two humans who fought alongside the orcish raiders were Marsem and Alding Trember, brothers both by lineage and by virtue of being members of the Order. The Dark Whisperers claim to have had rights to the hills near Travensburg as well as the traffic that passes near it under Imperial and Ecclesial Law. They are protesting the deaths of the Trember brothers and are demanding the immediate arrest of both the party and Lord Traven. So far neither Whiteclove nor the King have chosen to act on the rhetoric.
This is but a small controversy compared to that which is now all the talk of the Kingdom’s elites. Invasion is rumored to threaten from the East. Southern peasants often speak of a ‘King in the East’ who will free them of rule by Northern ‘heretics’.
Most of these issues are far from the minds of the inhabitants of Duvik’s Pass though, for the Festival of Falling Leaves has arrived! Once a year around this time, the size of the town nearly doubles as slaves captured at the height of the year’s campaign season flood into Duvik’s Pass to be sold to the great families of the Yellow Fields in preparation of the harvesting season. The traders then leave, their caravans filled with gold and ore from the mines. Merchants dealing in all wonder of items from Free Cities of the northeast also come to make take advantage of the concentration in wealth. Though oddly the number of slaves available has seemed to decline, especially scarce being the orcs from the Serpentcoil Mountains relative to previous years, the festival is still seen as a great blessing by the people of all standing.
But longtime residents of the town speak to a downside to this week. The diversity in language, tribe, and religion amongst the newcomers often leads to outbreaks of violence. Especially troubling it seems are the tribulations of the nobles of the Yellow Fields, who send their young sons to purchase slaves on behalf of their families. Grudges over honor often leads to intense rivalries that are brought even to the festival in the form of violence. The four Great Houses of the valley, the Nathos, Bersk, Aporos, and Evenwood are perhaps the most competitive over both lands, or in Duvik’s Pass, prize slaves. The first three trace their descent both to native tribal chiefs of the area as well as Southern Sommite aristocracy who ruled this land when it was under direct Imperial control. The Evenwood are the youngest House, a family of northern knights who were granted the title after the eviction by the current King’s father of a forgotten family who used to reside on the same lands. The others because of their youth as well as their adherence to the Northern Faith especially hate the Evenwood.
The First Day of the Festival –
The Sheriff has asked you to join him in his office one morning. The hustle and bustle of merchants and slaves is loud around you as the party approaches the magisterial building. The party enters the office to find Whiteclove standing behind his writing table facing a handsome young man clothed in silky ruffles; he has dark hair and eyes as well as the olive skin one would expect of a southern gentleman. An elf in rough looking leather armor stands against one wall.
Whiteclove turns to the party, “Ah, the Fist of Duvik, my favorite troublemakers..” he smiles, “may I introduce Nicos Aporos, second son of his house as well as its representative to our town on this special week. My lord, may I introduce our most recent and special additions…” Nicos interrupts the sheriff sharply, “I have heard of them, and they should hear this to. The recent raids on my grazing lands will be stopped and those responsible taste justice; you may be too naïve place suspicion where it is due, but I am not…” he points to the elf, “custom gives my house the right to punish those guilty of crimes on our lands, regardless of how close they are to your jurisdiction. I’ve hired Mourn here to do what you could not. I would ask you and your vagabonds to stay out of this. If you have any other need for me, I can be found at our villa on the eastern side of the Pass.” Before anyone can respond, Nicos and the elf turn their backs on Whitclove, brushing past the party in a flourish of silk.
Whiteclove sighs, “These young ones….I would ask you to stay clear of that one. Though I appreciate what you have done for my office, my head still hurts from the politics involved. I have asked you here today in order to request your assistance in keeping good order during the Festival. No doubt you have heard of the troubles that traditionally crop up on this week. I will send you out to quell disturbances as they arise. I have the militia patrolling the market square, so you can stay put during most of the day; I will give you special resting quarters on the second floor of this building so as to give you an adequate view of the ‘circus’. Compensation will be in the traditional manner. Does everyone ascent?” He looks from face to face.
But the fallout of their actions is beginning to be felt, especially by the Fist of Duvik’s major patron, Sheriff Whiteclove. Just a few days after the party’s return, Sir Whiteclove received irate demands from a little-known faction of the Church of the Laughing God, the Order of Dark Whisperers. The mandate of the Whisperers is unknown to most, though they are rumored to have a proclivity for corpses and their places of rest. The two humans who fought alongside the orcish raiders were Marsem and Alding Trember, brothers both by lineage and by virtue of being members of the Order. The Dark Whisperers claim to have had rights to the hills near Travensburg as well as the traffic that passes near it under Imperial and Ecclesial Law. They are protesting the deaths of the Trember brothers and are demanding the immediate arrest of both the party and Lord Traven. So far neither Whiteclove nor the King have chosen to act on the rhetoric.
This is but a small controversy compared to that which is now all the talk of the Kingdom’s elites. Invasion is rumored to threaten from the East. Southern peasants often speak of a ‘King in the East’ who will free them of rule by Northern ‘heretics’.
Most of these issues are far from the minds of the inhabitants of Duvik’s Pass though, for the Festival of Falling Leaves has arrived! Once a year around this time, the size of the town nearly doubles as slaves captured at the height of the year’s campaign season flood into Duvik’s Pass to be sold to the great families of the Yellow Fields in preparation of the harvesting season. The traders then leave, their caravans filled with gold and ore from the mines. Merchants dealing in all wonder of items from Free Cities of the northeast also come to make take advantage of the concentration in wealth. Though oddly the number of slaves available has seemed to decline, especially scarce being the orcs from the Serpentcoil Mountains relative to previous years, the festival is still seen as a great blessing by the people of all standing.
But longtime residents of the town speak to a downside to this week. The diversity in language, tribe, and religion amongst the newcomers often leads to outbreaks of violence. Especially troubling it seems are the tribulations of the nobles of the Yellow Fields, who send their young sons to purchase slaves on behalf of their families. Grudges over honor often leads to intense rivalries that are brought even to the festival in the form of violence. The four Great Houses of the valley, the Nathos, Bersk, Aporos, and Evenwood are perhaps the most competitive over both lands, or in Duvik’s Pass, prize slaves. The first three trace their descent both to native tribal chiefs of the area as well as Southern Sommite aristocracy who ruled this land when it was under direct Imperial control. The Evenwood are the youngest House, a family of northern knights who were granted the title after the eviction by the current King’s father of a forgotten family who used to reside on the same lands. The others because of their youth as well as their adherence to the Northern Faith especially hate the Evenwood.
The First Day of the Festival –
The Sheriff has asked you to join him in his office one morning. The hustle and bustle of merchants and slaves is loud around you as the party approaches the magisterial building. The party enters the office to find Whiteclove standing behind his writing table facing a handsome young man clothed in silky ruffles; he has dark hair and eyes as well as the olive skin one would expect of a southern gentleman. An elf in rough looking leather armor stands against one wall.
Whiteclove turns to the party, “Ah, the Fist of Duvik, my favorite troublemakers..” he smiles, “may I introduce Nicos Aporos, second son of his house as well as its representative to our town on this special week. My lord, may I introduce our most recent and special additions…” Nicos interrupts the sheriff sharply, “I have heard of them, and they should hear this to. The recent raids on my grazing lands will be stopped and those responsible taste justice; you may be too naïve place suspicion where it is due, but I am not…” he points to the elf, “custom gives my house the right to punish those guilty of crimes on our lands, regardless of how close they are to your jurisdiction. I’ve hired Mourn here to do what you could not. I would ask you and your vagabonds to stay out of this. If you have any other need for me, I can be found at our villa on the eastern side of the Pass.” Before anyone can respond, Nicos and the elf turn their backs on Whitclove, brushing past the party in a flourish of silk.
Whiteclove sighs, “These young ones….I would ask you to stay clear of that one. Though I appreciate what you have done for my office, my head still hurts from the politics involved. I have asked you here today in order to request your assistance in keeping good order during the Festival. No doubt you have heard of the troubles that traditionally crop up on this week. I will send you out to quell disturbances as they arise. I have the militia patrolling the market square, so you can stay put during most of the day; I will give you special resting quarters on the second floor of this building so as to give you an adequate view of the ‘circus’. Compensation will be in the traditional manner. Does everyone ascent?” He looks from face to face.
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