“And the council will go with them.” Zed said, as he stepped forward. “Though we have not sworn our oaths to the duke, we have sworn them to the throne. As the duke is the throne’s representative in the northern duchy, well...” Lana stepped forward and placed a hand on her old friend’s shoulder.
“No, you won’t be going, Zed. You are still recovering from, whatever that Pixi did to you.” As I reeled from the news, my master spluttered in indignation.
“What? No, I’m just as good as you are at magic!” She stared at him, and no one said a word. “Okay, maybe almost, no not quiet. But I still have to go. My oath requires me to help as much as I can.” Lana nodded.
“Yes, yes, it does. So, let me ask the healer who has been unraveling the mess of enchantments that surrounded your brain for the last twenty years. Lady Fae, what say you about my friend’s condition? Is he yet fit to take part in a battle?”
Ailsa buzzed her wings almost sadly as she lifted off my shoulder and hovered between the two Masters. “I’m sorry, Zed, but you’re not healed up enough. Honestly, I wouldn’t trust you with a seeing augmentation spell, you’d probably turn someone’s eyeballs into crystals or something by accident. Give it a week more or two, and I’ll have all of those pesky wild enchantments removed so you can think straight. But you’re not there yet.” She buzzed up close to Zed’s long nose and patted it consolingly.
“See? We shouldn’t have even left him with his staff. Gods above banish the thought of bringing him with us on campaign!” Javik said from the far side of the room. Lana rolled her eyes before nodding in agreement.
“He is right, my friend. Stay here, see to your other duties. Your apprentice is going to need much guidance in the coming days.” They both looked at me, and a light seemed to come on in Zed’s eyes. “You have helped save his life at least three times already that I know of. We all know you are going to be needed to do so again, soon. And often.” I raised my eyebrows at the accusation but let it go. It wasn’t worth the distraction. “Besides, you will not be the only member of the Masters Council staying behind. Po’tak is not fit for campaign either, and his daughter might need your aid in helping with his fits if he gets out of hand.” Zed nodded his agreement.
“Wizard,” The Count said, grabbing my attention. “I know this puts you, your allies, and your sworn quest for justice in a predicament. While I was in the vision, I had a while to figure out what I was going to do.” Everyone in the room stopped and looked at the Count. In that moment I felt that almost oppressive weight that seemed to be some kind of Torish magic fill the room. An energy of authority and social custom. I received several prompts, but they auto-minimized because of my settings.
The count drew his sword, slowly, purposefully. When it was naked to the world, it hummed and emitted a soft blue light. “Wizard Rayid of House Tear, that is your full name yes?” I nodded, and he continued. “I grant you authority to wage war within my realm. To deputize all interested parties who wish to take part in such a war, and the power to dictate terms of surrender. To give and to take quarter in the county’s name, to arrest your enemies or kill them in legal fashion. To raise an army of those both willing, and bound persons to your cause. Though you may not compel the city’s defenders and non-knighted nobility, I will command them to offer you shelter and hospitality as if you were a member of my house.” He brought the sword down on my shoulders. I wasn’t sure if I should kneel or not, so I just stood there like a moron while the man invested me with power greater than any magic. Authority.
When he lifted the sword off my shoulders and sheathed it again, the Count spoke. “I do so for one reason. My word has been given that justice would be had. As I can not fulfill this oath because of the dictates of a greater one I have removed all barriers it is within my power to remove. All in the hopes that you will accept this as a willing substitute for my direct aid. Will you accept it?” He asked. The man’s face was stoic, and I could tell that once he had been a man that was difficult to read. But after so long away from his duties enjoying what Traser had described as the leisure’s of high nobility, the man had lost some of that edge. He was sweating.
I did something I would not have done just a few days ago. I allowed the information from the prompts I had just received to enter my mind. I wanted to make a fully informed decision.
You have entered a Social Event! The Count has started an Informal Court!
The Count Winslow is either unwilling or unable to fulfill his oath by assisting in the safe rescue of Pina the Druid from the foul clutches of the Sorcerer Jekkel. Ramifications: You gain +100 Social Clout over Count Winslow and his Family. See options under Social Event Outcomes. Intercession: Because the oath in question is being broken due to fulfilling an emergency call for aid in a Higher Oath The Pantheon of Tor has interceded, allowing him the chance to convince you to accept his offer instead of suffering the ramifications of the broken oath. See “Offer” for more details.
Offer: You gain full authority to raise, maintain, conscript, march, equip, and use an Army of Vengeance within the border of the Borderlands County. In addition, Count Winslow will grant the Social Clout and Protection of a Senior Member of the Winslow Family. This will absolve the Count and his Family from any further obligation to you. Do you Accept? Yes / No.
Social Event Outcomes: You gain +100 Social Clout with the Winslow Family. Clout can be used to: Call for military, economic, political, legal, or social aid from the Family (or Social Unit) in question. The more clout you use in asking for such aid the greater the penalty the social unit in question will face for denying you. Beware however, the more you ask the greater the cost and the less likely the social unit in question will be to accept.
I took a deep, cleansing breath before I answered. Giving myself time to think. I found my thoughts were far quicker and more complex for the time I had than they had ever been before Ethria. So, if I accept the offer I can’t ask for anything else from him and expect to get it. There is nothing in here about asking him nicely, but I won’t hold any sway over him. It will take me a while to assemble a force strong enough to breach the tower, particularly if the entire council is leaving. I wonder if I can make a counteroffer. A pop up appeared in my vision. I grinned and said what I was thinking.
“I accept your offer on one condition.” He frowned, but nodded for me to continue. “The Masters of the Tower here cast a containment spell to prevent the sorcerer from escaping until I am ready.” The Count thought about this for a moment. He raised a hand, telling me to wait as he went and spoke to the Lana and Javik. When he came back, his face was severe but not angry.
“That can be done, but they can promise nothing more than a mere week’s delay. What say you? Do you accept with the new terms?” He reached out a hand, and I gripped his wrist in the fashion everyone else in Tor liked so much.
“I do.” The Count’s shoulders sagged slightly. A genuine smile crossed his face as relief flooded through him. The pressure of the Social Event left the room and everyone felt lighter, but the Count’s reaction was degrees more severe than I had thought it would be. I had not understood before that oaths could have a physical impact on a person without some kind of resolution, either positive or negative. The limbo being torn between the two pacts must have been causing the count physical pain until I released him. Ethria was not a place that oaths were said lightly, and this was just another example of that.
“Thank you, wizard. Now, both of us have a war to prepare for.”
---
That night, as one of the brighter moons rose overhead, the sky was clear. A winter storm had laid a fine dusting of snow on top of the frozen layers of hard packed ice. Before being blown far to the south by the bitter winter winds. That left the sky overhead clear and bright. I watched from atop the western gate, where the griffons roosted as every knight, sworn squire, and many household retainers bound by their masters oaths marched off to war.
I was shocked to learn that the Count, despite
his general lack of management of his realm on the political and economic level, had kept his people supplied and ready to march to war. Even in the middle of winter, given only hours to prepare and organize themselves they had been ready to march. With some magical support I supposed many of the elements that would normally limited medieval and pre-industrial armies could be overcome. Allowing for much faster military responses.
“The Count will be promoted, or at least praised in the ducal court by whatever remains of the Dren’el Family. This kind of preparation, and organization given no notice, is very impressive.” Traser explained from where he stood next to me. The rest of the team was there too, Tol’geth, who had been quiet since we had received the news, and Ailsa who stood off to one side with Zed. None of them showed much interest in the rank after rank of horses that, because of their enchanted horseshoes walked on top of the ice. The large gryffs and warhorses left only small impressions in the new snow.
“I thought you said the Count had been ignoring his duties to the city? How could he put on this kind of impressive display while ignoring his job?”
“Good question. The office of Count is primarily a military one. It comes with management and lordship of the County Seat, but the primary duties are still military in nature. It’s why the Count got away with ignoring most of his political and legal duties for so long. He could say that though he had authority over such issues, he couldn’t see to them all. And was therefore forced by his military obligations to delegate them to a reasonable alternative.”
“Alternatives like the Cardinal? Where is he anyway?” I asked as I watched a group of clerics of Dominus, donned in white and silver armor, exit the gate. The clergy would go to support the army I knew, anyone with any experience with fighting the undead and healing in a combat environment would be desperately needed. One group I could have asked for help taken off the table, I thought.
“Exactly. Honestly, probably three counties away by now. Most likely headed south to Tri-water to beg for a new assignment before the Count demands he is interrogated by a royal inquisitor.” The things Traser and others had said about the ominous Inquisitors conjured images of judge dread mixed with a healthy dose of institutionalized religious intolerance. It sent shivers down my spine. I knew from many history lessons back on Earth, including what had happened to my own ancestors, that such things were bad news. I sighed and turned my back to the marching army.
“Alright, so. What are we going to do?” I asked my friends. Traser cleared his throat, and we shifted our focus to him.
“I might know a few people who can help us.”
“Your Knight buddies?” Ailsa asked from Tol’geth’s shoulder. Traser grinned.
“Yeah, my Knight buddies.” Traser looked uncomfortable, but he shook it off and continued. “The Order of the Bleeding Heart. They’ve been looking at moving their HQ out of the city for a while, but I think with everything going on they’ll be willing to stay. At least until the Count comes back. Just so they can help the city watch.”
“Okay good. The Bleeding Hearts,” I was not enthused about Trasers friends. Though they had proven apt at political maneuvering, getting the Count out of his stupor and re-engaged with his duties as city lord, that name did not strike me as especially ‘fierce’. “What about the Watch? Do you think they’ll be of any use?” Traser shook his head.
“No, I don’t. They’ll protect us, give us food and shelter and let us sleep and eat inside the city walls, but they won’t be helping us. Not directly. Not unless Jekkel is all kinds of suicidal and attack the city directly. Then they will defend the walls. From behind its protective enchantments not in front of them.”
“These men know their duty is to the city, not some random men who ask for help to seek justice.” Tol’geth said. His voice was severe and low, yet controlled. “I have heard many rumors of a man like a lion not far to the south. He lives in a castle called after some saint of Dominus. Do you know of this man?”
“Yes, he is the head of one of the United Orders of Knights. I know of them because the Bleeding Hearts was thinking of joining them. How do you know them?” Traser asked, confused.
“I am often hearing peasants compare me to this lion-man. I would like to meet him if he is as honorable as this city’s people think.” I had never heard of this lion man, but then again I had not been with Tol’geth for even half the time we had been in the city. My barbarian friend had been off doing things and meeting people I knew nothing about , though I had just assumed he had stayed at Trasers estate.
“There is also Yiddle and Fiddle, I’m sure they would be happy to help us make some more golems we could use to lay siege to the place. Though, I don’t know what golems could do that our spells can’t.” Ailsa buzzed her wings as she spoke. “None of us know this place or its people as well as Zed. We should ask him for some advice on what other groups we might appeal to for help.”
We continued talking, throwing out some other ideas for who we might approach. Names of people and factions we came up with to ask Zed about. Like the Dead Gods priesthood, a handful of other knightly orders not directly sworn to the realm, the small fire goddess’s temple, and of course anyone Yiddle and Fiddle might connect us with. We ruled out most of the Master Council’s apprentices or adepts. Because the adults had nearly all been called away to war, and those that were left tended classes of younger apprentices numbering in the double digits. As we exhausted our meager list of potential allies, the night flashed bright blue, then fiery red. I turned and found that a dome of what looked to be molten ice covered the entire estate of the sorcerer. I marveled at its shifting red and blue hues until Zed appeared atop the gatehouse.
“Lana says it’ll last us at least a week. Longer if the brat trapped inside tries anything to escape. So, do we have a plan or what?” I grinned.
“I think we do.” As we descended the stairs and began making our way home to the Traser estate, we bombarded my teacher with question after question about who was who, and what factions might help us. By the time the carriage pulled up to the estate we had a list of potential allies we would need to approach come dawn.
Chapter 5: Taking Stock
"The Beauty in life is in the small details, not in big events" - Jim Jarmusch
The Traser Estate, City of Sowers Vale, 4th Novos, 2989 AoR
As the sun rose above the city walls, bathing the back courtyard of the Traser estate in light, I was already awake and devouring my breakfast. My companions each trickled in over the next hour as I ate scrambled eggs and a few strips of ham that the staff had been gracious enough to cook for me. As I devoured the meal, bits of egg kept getting stuck in my ever-growing beard. Man, I really need to trim this thing, I thought as I brushed yet another few crumbs away. With the eggs done, and Ailsa munching on some kind of sweet bread next to me, I scrolled through my Golem Crafting interface. I wrote a few lists of minor ingredients I would need if today was going to go the way I had planned.
“What are you working on, wizard?” Tol’geth asked as he sat down to a plate of eggs. His red beard seemed to simply absorb the bit of food that fell into it rather than holding them aloft for the entire world to see like mine did.
“Ingredients lists. Just some minor things I need to run some experiments this afternoon. I’m going to see how many Golems I can make and control at once. If it works like I hope it will, boom instant army.” I was sure I would find some bottleneck, but at least it would give me a start. Something to build on. Which was why I needed to run the experiments.
“Lofty goal, boy,” Zed said from over his strips of cooked ham. “When were you going to tell me about these plans, exactly? Usually, a student tells their teacher if they’re going to be playing with dangerous things.”
“Well, yesterday we had talked about using my golems as cannon fodder, right?” The elderly mage nodded slowly. I couldn’t tell if it was a response to my question, or he was just really enjoying the cooked ham. That was just Zed. “Well, I t
hought today I’d see what I can really do, now that I have a bit more time. And the resources I need.”
“What time is that?” Traser asked as he entered the small dining room.
“I don’t think he plans on going with us to visit the city watch.” Ailsa said from between bites. “Or those noble friends of yours.” Traser glowered at me. I locked eyes with him and pointed my pen at him for emphasis.
“Would I be helpful? Or would I be more likely to cause a scene by accident because I didn’t know who bow to, or for how low, or any other number of other things?” Silence reigned in the room for a moment. “Exactly. Visiting high nobility to beg for help is not a game for amateurs.” Traser narrowed his eyes at me, as if he were trying to figure out what kind of game I was playing. After a moment he finally giving in.
“Point taken.” I grinned wickedly, opened a screen I had only used twice so far, selected what I wanted and then mentally hit enter. My friends’ faces all looked slightly shocked as notifications appeared in their vision.
“Waaaait, did you just?” Ailsa asked, buzzing her wings in a way that told me she was excited.
“Yup. You all got the quests, right?” They all confirmed they had. It was a common quest, little more than delivery of our call for help to the people we had talked about the other day. With, of course, the potential for extra benefits for positive overruns. Each quest at this level with the option for positive growth for better results barely cost me 10xp per quest given. The growth option came with a penalty of 40xp cost if the person I offered it too refused the quest. They all accepted. Except Ailsa.
Ethria 3: The Liberator Page 6
