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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 951578" data-attributes="member: 100">The Ballad of Karhoun EsbenStory Post #10Meeting Lord Vildar Esben: Grandmaster, Holy Order of the Southern Pelurian and his three faithful wardensFrom the walls of the Esben family fortress, in the middle of the city hanged the bodies of dissidents.  One such corpse wore a Legate’s robes.  I saw it and looked to my sister for an explanation but she offered none.  Unaros grew paler and Olen’s fur bristled.The fortress is roughly triangular with three main towers on the walls and one on the port to protect against sea attack.  The tower to the north is called the Holy Tower and sits snug with a now-finished cathedral to Izrador; it was still being built when I left here as a boy.There are eastern and western towers.  The southern tower was torn down a few years before my birth by my father’s orders.  As he said, “Not even a tower will stand in opposition to the Shadow in the North.”There is also the Sea Tower, warded by Durgen; he was called Durgen the Brave when I was a boy but now he was Durgen the Silent.  Val explained to me that he had cut out his tongue a few years ago and hadn’t spoken since, only learning a complicated sign language with which he communicates with his squire.When I asked her why he had done such a thing, she shrugged, not knowing.When I was a boy I asked my father why Durgen didn’t have to carry his palanquin and father replied, “Durgen has more difficult burdens to bear than his father’s body.”  Durgen was High Captain of father’s fleet was known to be an accomplished warrior.My father was brought to the gate on a cushioned chair made of a dark wood.  Three of his sons carried him.  I recognized them:Orengar the Fat carried from the position of the Warden of the Holy Tower.  It was a high position and he wore a Legate’s robes.  His tower is said to be the strongest in the port because it has to be in order to hold his tremendous girth.Calum Giant-Friend was now Warden of the Western Tower.  He was no older than me and had risen fast.  Calum rose to power, I would later find out, was largely due to his friendship with a tribe of Giants in the hills and a total lack of scruples.  Apparently, one of their boulders found their way to the former Warden of the Western Tower, a cunning sister whose tombstone now reads: Aslinda the Red, Daughter, Wife and Faithful Warden.  Her hair wasn’t red but she was called such because of the buckets of blood she spilled in order to gain her position as Warden.The Warden of the Eastern Tower, as it had been since my living memory, was Hroth the Elder.  He had aged and it was a wonder he was alive, it is said that he was among my father’s first sons and looked a good deal older than his father.  Izrador hadn't granted Hroth eternal life...yet.  It was said that he was always looking for a way to display his loyalty to Izrador.  He had poisoned more Esbens and killed more supposed threats to my father than any three of us.  Still, he had never left the Port, always the dutiful son.Seated between the three of them was my father, Lord Vildar Esben: Grandmaster, Order of the Southern Pelurian and blessed by the Shadow in the North.  He hadn’t aged a day since before I was born, a gift from Izrador for his faithful service.  His face was pock-marked skin stretched over his skull and his blonde hair showing no signs of gray.  His black tabard had both the heraldry of Esben and the burning lake of his knightly order.He wore no weapons.  He greeted the Oruk and saw that they were sent a pit in front of the Cathedral, dug for his new monument, the oak.After this business was seen to he turned his attention to me, “My son returns.  Head shaven?  Still worshipping your ancestors?”I bowed and introduced Shadow Legate Unaros and Suk, “I am bald now, father, just a humble servant of Izrador.”Father snorted and replied while grinning, “Mayhaps they have taught you some manners at Theros Obsidia, a good thing.  Have you come to claim Port Esben for your own, to kill your father and take his seat of power?”My eyes went to the floor, “No, father, only stopped here on the way to Baden’s Bluff where Unaros is to serve.  We had a bad time of it in Whitecliff.”He nodded, “Welcome home, give me your blade.”I went to my hip but my axe and sword were still with the Oruk, who had left to the courtyard already.  When my brothers realized I had no weapons, looks were exchanged, weakness found.  I handed father my dagger.His eyes flared with a dangerous anger, “Where is your blade?”“Father, I gave them to the Oruk when I met them on the road.  I will retrieve them,” I explained.He nodded and again my brothers sent uneasy glances to each other, making sure to keep the suspicious looks out of my father’s view.  My loving lord father caressed my dagger with a damp cloth and said, “May this dagger’s touch give your enemies long nights of agony and suffering,” and he handed the now-poisoned dagger back to me.  “We will have dinner tonight to welcome your return.  See that you and your Legate are there.”He turned towards Valencia, “Girl, see that this Legate is cared for.  Whatever becomes of him during his stay here will also become of you.”She nodded, dutifully.My brothers picked up his chair and took him towards the oak, now being planted in the earth in front of the cathedral.  Not wanting to show weakness, knowing full well I was being watched, I went to the Oruk to retrieve my weapons.</blockquote>

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