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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 986691" data-attributes="member: 100">The Ballad of Karhoun EsbenStory Post #15Hanging BreakfastI had forgotten what it is like to wake up in Port Esben, my ancestral home.  First, you are grateful that you weren’t killed by father or assassinated by a jealous sibling.  Then you wonder if someone died in the night.Did father kill my sister for not telling father about the braid?  Was one of my brothers now dead because he had tried to whisper sweet poison into father’s ear, turning him against me?  Would Unaros be drawn and quartered at breakfast?A hard knock hit the door and a gruff voice announced, “Breakfast will be served under the Dryad’s Black Oak.  Please be prompt.”On my way to breakfast I saw a bald man in the courtyard with scars along his head, as if an axe cleft him but didn’t quite finish the job.  As soon as I saw him I knew he had sworn the same oath I had.  He had sworn an oath to defy Izrador.  He had sworn such an oath in one of the lost Oathrooms and he had meant it with all of his heart.  The feeling I got looking at him was the same feeling I got looking at Thannil or Vorden (even if such feelings didn’t last).  It was a warm feeling of trust and comradery.I assumed that if he saw me he had felt the oath’s pull also.  Those oathrooms we swore in were ensorcelled with a powerful magick. Thannil and Vorden had felt the pull of it too, knowing me for an oathtaker with only a glance.  I asked my sister who he was and it turned out that he was Odannin, Durgen’s right hand man, first mate on his flagship, Esben Honor.  Trying to purge thoughts of defiance out of my head, I walked towards breakfast, making a mental note to track down Odannin later.A table was set with bread still hot from the oven and porridge still steaming.  Over the table a noose was hung over one of the oak’s lower branches.  We all sat down with grim determination, trying not to panic, everyone wondering if the noose was meant for their neck.  Unaros looked faintly green, not used to the Esben Clan’s vicious hanging meals.  Olen looked at the noose like a normal dog would look at a tasty bone.Father sat and we all followed suit.  Then he clapped his hands, a loud sound in the deserted courtyard and his current wife was dragged from the house guard’s barracks.  She appeared ragged, tears streaked her face and bruises were on her arms and hands where the guards had held her roughly or had clamped her in chains.Only father’s eyes motioned to the noose.  The rope was tied so that the neck would snap quickly, a mercy on the condemned as well as a mercy on all of us.  I had expected her to curse our already cursed family, lay a wyrd of woe upon our terrible Clan but she didn’t.  She merely screamed the word, “No,” over and over until her feet spasmed one final time, dripping her body’s final act onto the breakfast table.We ate and ate studiously, making sure not to eat too fast nor too slow, doing everything in our power not to gain father’s attention.  Once he tasted blood it was easy for him to begin murderous habits, killing a few at a time, even re-using a noose with its former body still in, so the second victim is choked to death against the body of the first isn’t unheard of for Lord Vildar Highfather Esben, Grandmaster of the Order of the Southern Pelurian.Father looked at the Dryad, silently eating her meal at the far end of the table, opposite from him.  While his former wife’s feet dangled between them he asked, “Elayle, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”While she swallowed her bite of porridge with an audible gulp the rest of us stopped eating, holding our breath.Quietly, she croaked, “I accept.”I looked around the table and knew that none would take any actions, so I rose, mug in hand.  “A toast to father and his lovely bride-to-be.”  The poor thing might be a Shadow servant but she had no idea what she was in for now.We all toasted and attempted to salvage what we could off of our plates, finishing the worst broken fast ever.Three ConversationsVarsith the Twice Marked looked like he hadn’t slept in days.  No doubt, he hadn’t.  He sees to his trials.  I watched him condemn three men and two women to death before he caught sight of me.I told him what I wanted and needed.  He took from his stock, discarded items of the criminals he has condemned.  While considering a deal I proposed he sentenced an old lady to be drawn and quartered for refusing an Orc a meal.  He gave me the gear I asked for in trade for some of the loot off of the Oruks.“I would suggest you take that keen Vardatch you have there and give it to the local chieftain.  Always best to leave a good impression on the Orcs, brother,” then his eyes glazed over, he looked at the child put before his court and waived his hand, “Hang him, so he dangles and chokes slowly.”I left Vrastith and left quickly.While I was talking to the Twice-Marked Advocate my sister was approached by Odannin.  He intercepted her in the courtyard and had a conversation that would change my life forever, set the markers falling and put me on the path of my destiny, for light or shadow.“Valanicia, your brother and I have need of your advice.  Durgen bid me call on you.”She looked on him with her cool Esben gaze, her blue eyes had no tinge of guilt for the hanging she had all but tied the noose for herself.  “Durgen bid you to see me?  What for?”“We need to speak to your brother, Karhoun,” Odannin said carefully.Her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin, “Then speak to him, he is easy enough to find.”“But you see, we need to speak to him about…Esben family business and that Legate he serves is always about.  We need to speak to him without Unaros’s ears so close.”She nodded, considering, “He will be going across the Pellurian on your ships, see to it that you put the Legate and Karhoun on different ships.”Odannin grinned, a strange sight on his scarred head, “Thank you, m’lady.  That is a more complicated proposal but thank you, I think we can do it.  Please, treat this conversation with me as you would a conversation with Sir Durgen, Warden of the Sea Tower, High Captain of the Esben Fleet.”She curtsied, “You can count on my discretion.”While I was talking to Vrastith and Odannin was speaking with Valanicia, Unaros was received at the Sea Tower by Sir Durgen the Silent.  Durgen’s would have been using an altered version of the Snow Elf Patrol Sign to communicate with his squire, Kylie.  They met at the top of the Sea Tower, with all of the Esben fleet arrayed beneath them.Sir Durgen would have signed his curious hand-signed language while Kylie spoke his words to Unaros.I wasn’t there and Durgen couldn’t tell me about it later.  But I can well imagine how it went.  Unaros requested passage and Durgen nodded but said that it would be difficult, getting him to Baden’s Bluff safely.  And that once out at sea, it would be difficult not to set out on a hunt for the Pirate Princes, the sailors would almost demand such a hunt with the Legate and a Demon-Hound Mage-hunter aboard.Unaros would mention that they had no time for detours and Durgen would have said something about the sea working in mysterious ways.  Then Durgen might have changed the subject, mentioned how his hunt for the Princes would be made so much easier with aid from the Manticore.Unaros would have stroked his beard and mentioned that he had a way to get in touch with the Manticore, a spike from his tail, freely given.  When burned the spike drew the Manticore to the spot of the fire, a crude summoning magick.Durgen would mention that such a spike would be quite useful in his battles on the Pellurian against the insurgents.Unaros would consider this deal.  He would know he was getting the <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />e side of the bargain.  He would have to be thinking about the dead Legate on the walls of Port Esben with the word, “Heretic,” on a sign around his neck.  Unaros would consider that once he was in the Bluff, fellow Legates would be as much of a threat as insurgents and having good contacts in the Baden family would be useful.  Unaros would also think about the long treks around the Pellurian, through Dwarf infested mountains to the east and Elf-ridden Erethor to the west.While I was watching Vrastith blithely advocate for the unjust slaughter of peasants and while Valanicia planted dark seeds on Odannin’s cleft skull, Unaros handed over the Manticore’s spike in return for safe passage to Port Esben and Esben support if he needed it while in the Bluff.Sir Durgen the Silent took the spike and shook hands with the Legate, never smiling, expression never wavering from its usual grim stone-faced determination.Death of an EsbenI gave the Vardatch to Suk, who relayed the fine weapon to the Orcish leader in Port Esben.  Suk thought the gift was a smart idea.  We all gathered again and went into the fortress in the heart of the city, to prepare for our departure.Something was wrong, I could tell by the way the servants were scurrying and the way the guards were edgy.  Orengar the Fat is sweating, patches of wetness forming on the back and in the armpits of his silken Legate’s robes.  He had begun to smell.An Esben had been murdered and it hadn’t been verified if another Esben had been behind the death.  I found out that Unaros was deep in the deep, dark Cathedral, praying in the shadows.  It was best not to disturb him, I thought.I reported to father but he was in War Council with the Wardens, Sir Durgen included.While waiting in the hall I was told that Squire Jorund the Hydra had been killed, shot to death by crossbow bolts while sleeping in his room.  Jorund was father’s golden boy, his own personal squire, being groomed, they said, to take over his Holy Order as its Spymaster.  Father’s face was tighter than usual, choking back the tears for a son he didn’t butcher himself.Father held my shoulder while the Wardens stood behind him, all managing to admirably pretend to be mournful while wondering which one of them did the deed.  “Karhoun, we have discussed it and we think Jorund was killed by Baden’s Bluff Legates.  Crossbows are frequently used for murder in Baden’s Bluff, practically a signature killing.  We think they got word of our plans to move into the Bluff behind you and your Legate.  Now is not a safe time for you to venture far from the safety of home.“Sir Durgen can make use of you on his Pirate hunt and we will send your Legate as an ambassador, to sue for peace in the Bluff so a War of Shadow doesn’t erupt over the entire Pellurian Sea.  We need peace for now and we need you safely in Baden’s Bluff.“See Unaros off and then report to the fleet.  We will send you after Unaros as soon as we deem it safe.”I accepted father’s decree gracefully and saw Unaros off.The Orcs and the Goblins took most of the food I had gathered for the journey.  I sent a live goat for Olen, unsure if the Demon-Hound would eat it or mount it.Unaros and I shook hands and the Legate disappeared into the horizon.  It was the first time I was out from under his service and despite the obvious loathing and fear in Port Esben, it felt good to be home and felt good to be serving my family.I reported to Sir Durgen, High Captain of the Esben Fleet’s flagship, Esben Honor.We went out to sea to hunt for Pirates.  Kylie confided in me that she often got seasick and she hoped she didn’t get sick this time.  Then she promptly vomited on the deck; the sailors cleaned it up and Durgen gave her some herbs to ease her stomache and nerves.After a half hour at sea, Kylie passed out and some spearsman carried her below decks.  At that moment, once she was below, Durgen and Odannin approached me together.  Durgen signed frantically and Odannin translated, “Durgen hasn’t sworn in an oathroom like you have, but he is sword to defeat the Shadow in every way he can, as has every last warrior on these two ships, sixty strong.”I felt my spirits rise as he continued, “We sent all of those loyal to Vildar with the Legate to Baden’s Bluff so that we could talk to you safely here.  The only Shadow-loyalist is Kylie, Durgen’s Squire, who we can’t leave at port without arousing suspicions.“We arranged for Jorund’s death so that you could be here for a noble purpose.“Durgen has heard of your meeting with the Manticore.  The creature is an abomination and a powerful Shadow ally.  We wish to hunt it and kill it.Is it possible to kill the beast with sixty men?  Can such a thing be done or shall we just chase pirates for a few days before delivering you to the Bluff?  It is not worth risking our positions.  If we are careful, we could kill your father some day, take Port Esben for Durgen’s own.  A suicide mission is not worth risking Durgen’s trusted and close placement.  Think on this, Karhoun, can we kill the Manticore with only one Channeler of no mean skill along with sixty men, twenty spear, twenty sword and twenty archers.” I thought hard about the Manticore, the most majestic and dangerous beast I had ever met.  Perhaps my father was more imposing while ensconced in his keep.  Perhaps not.  I thought about how we met it.  I thought about how quickly it had desposed of such great numbers of our party, killing them and eating them without a second-thought.These were warriors, marines, pirate-killers, not hunters…but I am.  I could show them how to kill a monster.  With every dirty trick the Tower imparted to me, we could do it.  It will be an under-handed ambush.It had burst from the rubble after a Goblin spear had accidentally been stuck in its foot…the Manticore had bellowed in pain.It had bled, before eating a Goblin and swiping an Orc in twain, it had bled.I looked Durgen in the eyes, meeting his stare with my own Esben intensity, “We can kill the Manticore.  Let’s hunt.”We turned the ship towards Dragon Island, a secluded place without too many prying eyes and Durgen knew a good gorge fit for ambushing the Manticore.  I leaned against the wooden dragon-prow of the ship.  Carefully, I took the Dryad’s leaf out from my inside breast pocket and kissed it lightly.  The leaf was still a fresh summer green.With my brother at my side and sea mist in my beard a thought slipped into my mind:  It is good to be home.</blockquote>

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