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The Keep on the Borderlands
New Almiraj
High Summer

As Ere Summer was just passing to High Summer, and the rainy chill of Spring had passed but the thick oppressive heat of summer had not yet arrived, the Duke summoned the party to the Ducal Seat.

Joryana is a tall woman with broad shoulders and thick, sturdy features. The marks of her patrician parentage shine out in her delicate cheekbones and fine blonde hair, but there is none of the weakness or delicacy of nobility in her.

When the party arrives, she is sat behind a massive black oak desk, papers strewn everywhere, advisors and fuctionaries toiling away in the corners, and her personal bodyguards near the door.

She smiles and stands as they enter.

"My friends, my friends," she says, ushering them to the two benches in front of the desk. "Again we thank you for your service to Seat and Realm. We know you must have much you wish to accomplish here, but should you have more service in your heart, we request your assistance yet again."

She lays out a sketchy, incomplete map of the nearby wilderness. Notes are scratched all over it.

"This land was once a centre of trade and culture and commerce. The Dwarf clans to the north have ancient ties to our house. The coastal lands to the south once provided great bounty from the seas. The border kingdoms to the west once conducted trade along the Great Road. This land was wonderful. And it will be so again. But our needs are many and our resources few."

She starts pointing to various places on the map.

"First, there are the walls. We have begun repair, but we lack the materials and the expertise to complete them. There was once a quarry nearby where suitable stone could be found. But it is across the river and many foul beasts lurk nearby. If we can find a suitable place to ford the river, and are able to secure the quarry, and the path from here to there, we will be able to begin repairs in earnest. I even know a master stonemason who will come to live here, so long as we can guarantee the safety of his daughter."

She circles the road and the areas around.

"Which brings us to our next problem. Bandits. They seem to be both many and strong. We are losing one in ten caravans to them. We do not know how they are crossing the Goblinwater. We do not know where they are hiding, or even where they are selling the things they steal. But until they are taken care of, our ability to trade and recruit are severely hampered."

She gestures to the north of the map.

"To the north, along the steppes, is a great forest that was once the strongest and oldest nation of elves in this part of the world. Now it is a haunted, evil place filled with unquiet spirits and the undead. Our northern expansion and access to lumber is severely limited thereby. But if the forest could somehow be cleansed, the trees would be a great resource and perhaps the elves might come to live there once again."

"And, perhaps most of all, to the east, where the the road turns north into Tallscratch Valley, lies an abandoned silver mine that was once a source of great wealth for my family. Now it is rumoured to be infested with monsters and creatures of all manner and description and are now known as the Caves of Chaos. The mine, more than anything else, is the key to re-establishing our sovereignty here, and the Caves are the biggest threat we face."

She paused. Sighed.

"So many other things. It isa said that two legendary heroes, Rogahn the Warrior and Zelligar the Wizard, established a great stronghold called Quasqueton somewhere in the mountains. It is long lost now but is said to contain many wonders. And it is also said that there were several towns in and about the valleys to the north, east, and south. But there is no sign of them now. The solution to that mystery may tell us much."

She sat back.

"So, my friends, we dare not ask you give more than you have given, and yet your Duke, and your new home and community, call out to you at our time of need. What say you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:50, Sun 25 June 2023.

Kovann was stood at the front of the group when the Duke spoke to them. Not out of any sense of needing to show enthusiasm, but purely from the logistical sense of everyone else was taller than him!

After the Duke explains the situation, with the different threats and problems to the keep and it's development, Kovann gives a pause before being the first to give a suggestion.

"They are all important, but if we treat them with the same importance, none are important."

He then points to the locations of the bandit attacks on the map.

"For me, bandits are the biggest problem. If we are to have imports and exports, as well as safety in the surrounding area, we need to deal with these bandits first. Otherwise, it shows we're weak, don't care about caravans, and they won't want to risk coming here."

Kovann then looked at the rest of the group, to see what their thoughts are.

Kojik studied the map for a moment and then gave a nod of agreement, looking to Kovann and then addressing the group as a whole - as well as the Duke.

"I would tend to agree I think. Addressing the other concerns are obviously going to help secure the Keep and make life in general a bit more agreeable here, but we cannot exist out here alone forever. Maintaining trade and diplomacy with those beyond the borders of this realm are as vital as anything else; perhaps more so. So dealing with the threats to such trade would likely be the best first step. Once that is taken care of, we can move on to the more localized aspects of securing and rebuilding here in full," he remarks.

“I’m most worried about the walls.  The tracks seen in the area indicate threats about.  We have taken steps to increase security and hopefully can hold out.  I’d hate for a caravan to arrive and there’s nothing left.  Supplies are necessary.  So I can get behind dealing with Bandits.”

“Here’s what I’ve heard.  The bandits seem to always strike from somewhere across the river. But the river is swift, powerful, and basically unpassable west of the Keep.  No reports of how they are getting across.”

“There are also rumours of  a large infestation of Lizardmen in the swamps across the river. They say they keep Bullywugs as slaves and that they eat anyone rather than take them captive.  It wouldn’t surprise me if these two rumors are one and the same.”

“If we are going to deal with bandits, does anyone have a way across the River?”

Kojik considered the last question posed for a moment, then gave a slow nod and spoke up, "Depending on how wide the river is.. I might have a way," he states, glancing to the others and then back if no one else spoke up in the interm.

"Assuming we can find a spot narrow enough, I can move myself over to the opposite side. If we have a rope or something to help span the gap and a suitable spot, we can tie off a simplistic bridge for us to use. That's assuming we cannot find a natural crossing. I'm sure if the bandits are coming from that side, they're using some means across. A natural ford, a boat, something of that nature. I could send Grover to scout up and down the river to find such a spot if it exists.

Going with the worst case and no such easy crossing available, I could make another floating disk to have one or two of you reside on while I go to the other side. It would follow me across, which could get two or three of us on the other side quickly. We'd still need to establish some sort of rope bridge to get back, but at least its one option," he suggested.

The Duke nods and gestures to a tiny gnome buried behind a desk of papers. Some rustling and digging follows before she is handed a long roll of parchment. The Duke scowls at the overworked gnome and barely manages a half-hearted thank you.

"Forgive the chaos, here. My High Subaltern is away at Havenport on business, accompanied by your companion Gill. Her absence is keenly felt."

She reads the parchment. There are a few other, smaller sheets of paper near to hand.

"The Ducal Seat thanks you for the offer of your services. We grant you a Writ of Law to pursue these bandits anywhere within the reach of the Duke's realm and to secure and detain them."

She hands one of the parchments over.

"We also grant you a Writ of Provision. You may demand goods, services, or personnel, as you require, to complete your mission, saving only my own staff and those who serve me In Extraordinary."

She hands another parchment.

"In addition," she says, hand on a small stack of remaining papers, each in a leather fold,. "Any who wish to sear featly to the Ducal Seat will be granted the post of Magistrate and be granted formal authority to dispense the Duke's justice as you see fit as far as the Seat's reach stretches."

She says, "Before you go, we are told that one of the apprentices of Ghor, the smith, survived a bandit attack on his journey inland. Also, Gyurt the farmer, before being granted his homestead, spent some time under our service, exploring the riverside."

She paused. Looked over at the poor gnome, who checked some papers and scampered out of the room.

She turned back. "I have sent for Danryn Storanson, a recently-arrived cleric to our Keep. We are told that his mentor and guardian is currently inbound on a large caravan. He may be motivated to accompany you on your mission."

She paused, looked serious, "This cavaran is packed with seed, farming equipment and rations. We are also told that one Alden Greggst, a highly specialized artisan, is also on this caravan at my behest. Our efforts over the next year will be thoroughly hampered should this caravan be lost."

At that point the gnome returns, a large half-orc in tow.

OOC:
Okay, a few things here!

#1: Danryn, welcome to Keep on the Borderlands! You're welcome to decide for yourself if you knew Storan was coming or not. And you're welcome to decide for yourself how long you've been here, where you're staying, and whether or not you hand any bandit trouble on your way in.

#2: Anyone who wants to swear themselves to the service of the Ducal Seat may let me know they've done so. Doing so will grant you the title and post of Magistrate, and legally entitle you to dispense justice and uphold the law anywhere within the realm.

#3: You've got two leads, and you may chase one, or both, or neither: the apprentice of Ghor, and Gyurt the farmer. You are permitted to order either of them to come with you, if you wish.

#4: You are also entitled to provisions or services within the Keep, that you'll need on your way. So if anyone needs anything wilderness-y, or want to have any NPC come with, let me know.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:24, Tue 04 July 2023.

The door to the hall swings open. Not forcefully, not dramatically, but smoothly as if opened by someone who wishes to be respectful to the conversation at hand. A large green man enters the hall.

He's an orc, there's no doubt to that, and his massive hands close the door gently behind him. His gait is of someone who has refinement but is contrasted by the lumbering nature of his form. He nods to the duke as he approaches, Danryn had learned long ago to never smile in the presence of humans, orc smiles are often misconstrued. Instead he kept his face neutral but this then caused the the standard Ork's "Resting-Scowl-Face" to dominate his features.

He looks at the others and nods greeting before speaking, "Forgive my tardiness Duke. I was in the middle of a delivery. Has my "father' arrived?"

The Duke nods and waves the half-orc over to stand with the rest.

"Deacon, hello. Prelate Highfield has not yet arrived. These are among the ones who secured the Keep in Near Spring. They have agreed to ply their attentions to the problem of the bandit raids on our caravans."

"We have heard that Prelate Highfield is accompanying the Winter Provision Caravan, and that they have left Havenport recently. We thought you might wish to set out to meet them."

A pause. An eyebrow arched at the rest of the party.

"If there are no objections, of course. We are aware that Gill Mikiri is currently unavailable."

Danryn nodded his agreement, "By Helm's gauntlet my father can get lost in camp. If he travels with the prelate then I have no doubt some of his men are simply set to ensure old Storan doesn't wander off." The statement was said with the slight air of mirth.

"Certainly I would endeavor to aid the Prelate's caravan. The risk of Bandits is sever."

The Orc looks at the others, "Danryn, Danryn Storanson."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:07, Wed 05 July 2023.

being one of the nearest to the table, Kovann takes the Writ of Law and folds it up, placing it into a pocket. It's unlikely they will need to show proof of establishing law, but he figured it is better to take it, if proof is needed.

Once the duke explains the situation, and who they may wish to speak to, it is almost prophetic that at that moment their new cleric arrives.

Do all clerics have to be big? Kovann thinks to himself, seeing them come in.

After introducing themself, Kovann places one palm on his chest, and gives a slight bow. "Kovann, of Gun Galaq. Welcome."

He then turns to the rest of the group. "Thoughts? Should we go discuss things elsewhere, if we don't need to hold up the Duke any longer?"

Kojik gave a nod as he listened to the various details the Duke relayed to them - current standings, how things were going, where people were.. and some of the offerings available. He gave a nod in the end himself, remarking directly, "Given the commitment to the area made, I believe I would take up the offer of swearing service," he noted. The specifics of that could be dealt with at a more appropriate time, of course, which brought him to the matter of their newest arrival.

To Danryn, he gave another nod of his head with a smile, "Kojik Virsk, Diviner, currently and for the foreseeable future of the Keep here," he noted with a light chuckle after. Divining his own future, perhaps? Or merely a jest?

"I agree though, we can make our plans as we go, no need to dwell here longer than desired," he agreed with Kovann.

Ayanna nodded to the half-orc when he entered the room.  "Ayanna."  She introduced herself at an appropriate moment.

When the mention of magistrate was made, Ayanna knelt and swore fealty.  "I am here to serve you."

She agreed they could take their leave and make plans.  For her part, she felt talking to the farmer might lead some information on the river.  Speaking to the apprentice could give them some knowledge of what they might be dealing with.  Both sounded worthy of their time.

Nodding greetings tot he others as they introduce themselves Danryn listens to them make plans.

"Let us move this conversation elsewhere then." Being the newcomer to the group he waits for them to take the lead.

Regarding the magistrate position: She bowed to the Duke, "Almiraj, I'm sure by now you know of my commitment to the spirit in the Keep. I am bound to this place, and I serve you by your grace."

Ragarding the other discussion: She inclined her head to Danryn, "Welcome, Danryn StoransonI am Glinsael, scholar of Minas Miril. I would quite like to learn of your faith, when there is time to do so. As for now, let us withdraw to discuss the immediate issue." She bowed again to the Duke, "by your leave," before exiting.

"Indeed good lady though it is not "faith" for there is nothing to believe, my relationship with Helm is based on experiences over time. I would more accurately describe what you refer to as, my trust."

----> to the meeting place???

The Keep is still too small to have anything so formal as districts, but everywhere you go, Speaking People love to draw circles around things and gather within them.

So it is that the large area outside the bailey is half-jokingly called the Market District. What merchants there are gather there with what wares they have. And farmers and hunters and trappers all bring goods from in and around the region as well.

Just outside the Market District is the Artifice Ring, a line of shops and apartments occupied by the smiths and craftsfolk and guildsfolk that make the Keep their home.

Right in the centre, lit by the deep orange fires of the force, and wreathed in the heavy oily black smoke of the fire, is the Smithy of Ghor.

Ghor is an old, old dwarf. Still solid and hale, but he limps quite badly and his face has several old jagged scars. In the way of older dwarves, his hands are a mess of burn scars old and new. Away from the anvil he is slow and unsteady. But with a hammer in his hand and metal to beat, he is agile and precise and tireless.

"My 'prentice, then?" he gruffs when asked, eyeing the odd party warily, and offering Kovann's beardless face a silent scowl, "Yar, he had some bandit troubles on the way on. But he's down the gates this tick on delivery. And I've five days' work for him lined up after, and five more after than I expect, every day a promise I aim to keep. So I trust you won't be needing much of his time, then?"

Another sour look at Kovann.

"Some of us take our promises seriously."

The exchange between the smith and Kovann intrigued Danryn though he decided it was best not to interject. In his short time at the keep he only had professional contact with Ghor as the smith had taken a few dents out of Danryn's shield o his arrival. He certainly didn't know either man well enough to interrupt. Instead the large cleric just listens on and when the time seems right he suggests a place the party can all sit together.

I'm sure in the artificer ring there's someplace that serves meals and drink, If not then he would suggest the keep dining hall.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:14, Sun 09 July 2023.

Kojik gave a polite nod to the smith, even offering a smile to try defusing the situation a bit as he remarked, "A few words should be well enough with your apprentice. We've a few quick questions about the attack," he noted. While having the apprentice guide them to the spot would be good, keeping things running here in the Keep was likely more important. And some pertinent questions could likely get what they needed from the man anyway.