Starday Evening, Fireseek 1, 591 Common Year

After awhile, a servant knocks at Fingol’s door. He has clothing for him suitable for the court. “They are a gift, milord, from the Prince-Governor. Also, I am to tell you that you will be seated at the Second Mess, on the left, second to the end by the High Table. Don’t worry, an usher will help you and you will be sitting next to Brother Burne, a priest of St. Cuthbert.” The servant bows out. Fingol looks at the silken vestments doubtfully, but then shrugs and puts them on figuring that there is no getting out of it. He finds that they are more comfortable than he feared, being of silk and loose and baggy in keeping with the fashions of the southern Flanaess nobility. He straps on his fighting dagger all the same, to show that his presence in the palace is justified by his military service. 

Soon after, the setting of the sun and the trumpets sound to gather the palace household for the evening meal, Gar and Fingol run into one another out in the courtyard. Fingol takes the opportunity, while none are around to hear, to speak more with Gar, saying, “Excuse me, good priest, but there are things I would like to say for your ears alone. I don’t have the sight that your druid-mistress possesses, but it is obvious to me that whatever is pushing the lizardfolk are just the first breezes. It could be a storm that could flood this city and all the land surrounding it. As I said, I don’t have the sight that your druid-mistress possesses but I see the wisdom in her warning. And perhaps I am too free with my words, but I was disappointed that some of the court discounted it simply because it came from your people. More likely, they try to discount you, because they fear your message and cannot refute its wisdom.

“For the sake of my family, I’d see peace in Prospero’s holdings here. I believe that the lizardfolk are being used as pawns, although I have no evidence of that. Your words about the people of the marsh came as a shock to me. Living among them, as I do, I lacked the perspective to see the danger of their actions. You are right, however, that the tighter they hold the swamp, the more likely it is to slip through their fingers. And if it does, than the city will starve. 

“As I said before, if you have some idea of how to prevent this, and prevent violence, then I am at your service. Perhaps those who say we Keolanders should never have come here are right. But we are here now, and there is no way to leave without much loss of life.”

“Yes,” replies Gar, “it is good and right to do what we can to prevent the outbreak of violence. Let us see what the night brings. The good Prince may still strike upon an enlightened course of action. Perhaps we will find a comrade or two to help us on our joint quest to bring peace and balance to the Hool Marshes as well. Come, let us fill our bellies and keep our eyes and ears open for companions whom we can trust.”

In the foyer outside the great hall the priests, nobles, and other members of the Prince-Governor’s household gather. The priests are the first ones to enter the great hall, followed by visiting nobles from Keoland, then the Prince-Governor, Lady Sedara, and the rest of his household, and at the last those local dignitaries and members of the palace staff who are not of noble blood including the members of the Guard who are off-duty. As everyone enters they wash their faces and hands using the pitchers of water and basins on the washstands by the entrance. The floor within has been covered with rushes, as well as lilacs and other herbs to freshen the scent of the hall. Magically lit chandeliers overhead provide more than sufficient light. Ushers are on hand to guide people to their proper seats. Braziers placed at intervals provide some warmth in the otherwise cool drafty hall. Fortunately, it never gets very cold in the Hool Marshes anyway, even in the month of Fireseek. Linen covered tables have been set out into the hall. These tables are actually planks of wood on trestles that are easily packed away when not needed. The Prince-Governor, Lady Sedara, Sir Bodwyn the Captain of the Guard and his wife and children are all seated at the High Table on the dais at the front of the room where during the day the throne and tables for the court clerks were set up. Perpendicular to the High Table are four other tables set in two parallel rows. If one were sitting at the High Table, the table closest and on the right is the Reward where the high-ranking clergy and nobles are seated. The table closest and to the left is the Second Mess (as the Reward table is considered the First) where honored guests and middle ranked clergy and nobles are seated. The next two tables are the Third and Fourth Mess where other nobles and clergy sit. In adjacent halls are tables for those who are not of the nobility. When needed, tables are even set out in the lower halls. So that there is no confusion, contention, or embarrassing changes of seating, ushers guide everyone to their proper places. The High Table and Reward are set with dishes and utensils of gold, and with fabulously carved drinking vessels. The other tables are set with silver.

Fingol and Gar find that they are seated at the Second Mess near the end of the table closest to the High Table along with several knights of the court. This indicates that they are considered honored guests. The assembled knights, and occasionally their ladies, all seem to be young and in good health. They are dressed in their court finery, complete with rings, pendants, brooches, and other jewelry. They are strong, proud, confident, but also generally kindly, the very picture of the nobility of the Keoish heartland. Fingol can’t help but feel flattered by being included in all this, even though he knows he should take it in stride as a member of a noble house, albeit a lesser house.

Once everyone is seated, the highest ranked priest of Heironeous in blue robes with silver trim stands by the High Table to pronounce a blessing. Unlike the clergy and worshippers of other deities, the followers of Heironeous say their prayers by saluting and standing at attention as if at a heavenly military parade or drill.

“O blessed Heironeous, Valorous Knight, we offer this repast to you. We are humbly thankful that the meal we are about to receive has come to us through the kindness and cooperation of many, and that to repay our duty to you and all beings we must ever strive to establish a just world where people can live in peace and prosperity. Invincible Heironeous, we salute you!”

The Prince-Governor and the rest of the Keolanders all give the standard response, “Fall to!” With that the servants begin bringing in jugs of wine and ale, and the many trays and platters of the First Remove. Altogether there are Four Removes. The first three removes are many dishes of succulent meat pies, stews, and various rice dishes. Blackened catfish, gumbo, fried plantains, and even alligator ribs served with various kinds of long grain rice such as the Hold of the Sea Princes is famous for are brought in. The Fourth Remove consists of sweet dishes and desserts, of which the pecan pie and peach tarts are particularly notable. In short, the guests are all treated to a smorgasbord of the richest foods of the southern Flanaess. And yet, some of the nobles present note that this sumptuous meal is not quite as abundant as one would find in the richer courts of Keoland itself, long known as the bread-basket of the Flanaess. Even so, Fingol samples only the simpler dishes – like the jambalaya and dirty rice. Having just come in from the wilds, and though not patrolling areas where he was in danger of starving, Fingol figures that digging into rich foods after being on the trail will make anyone sick. In fact, that had happened to him a couple of times before when visiting the manors of his father’s friends and peers when he was growing up! 

Seated at the end of the left hand side of the table closest to the High Table if one were facing it is Brother Burne. Burne is lightly tanned, has brown hair, black eyes, and wears the crumpled hat that indicates he is a priest of St. Cuthbert. Though in his mid-twenties, he is already beefy and stern looking. At present he is voicing his determination to spread the faith of St. Cuthbert in this benighted land, “That’s what these people need, though they don’t seem to know it: order and discipline. But they have no motivation! They would rather beg and gamble than earn an honest living! Or use slaves to do their work for them! And these former slaves and refugees aren’t helping. They do nothing more than seek revenge upon their former masters or expect a handout from us – as if we owed them anything more than what we have done – freeing them and giving them a chance to work for themselves and create a new order with us! I know they are Olman savages from the Amedio Jungles who have been treated abominably for generations by the wretched Sea Princes and now the Scarlet Brotherhood, but still, can’t they see the gift we’re offering them? The gift of a higher civilization, the truths that St. Cuthbert can teach them – truth, decency, honest hard work, and discipline by which we can all pull together to build a life worth living!”

Fingol, sitting on Burne’s right, has heard this kind of thing before and knows the futility of trying to change Burne’s mind (one might as well take on St. Cuthbert himself than one of his fanatical bully boys) so he simply grimaces in silence.

On Fingol’s right sits Sir Jankin, a fair skinned, light blond, grey-green eyed knight still in his teens. He is introduced as a paladin in the service of Heironeous. Fingol finds him to be idealistic and good-hearted. He counters with his disappointment with King Skotti’s policies because he believes that force should only be the very last resort and only for the defense of innocent life, “My pardon Brother Burne, but I can understand why these people don’t trust us. We shouldn’t be here; they know it and I think many of us know it. We’ve invaded their land…” Burne and Gorman protest this from across the table. “Yes, I know, I know, this was a war of liberation. We freed Westkeep from the Scarlet Brotherhood. But really, who appointed us the watch captains of the entire Flanaess?” More protests from Gorman and Burne. “Well yes, I know the Scarlet Brotherhood would soon have used the Hold to launch further attacks on us. But is it chivalrous to draw one’s sword and cut down one’s neighbor, simply because you think he might attack you? I’m not saying that I won’t fight the Scarlet Brotherhood, and I will certainly do my duty for King and the Prince-Governor, but I don’t see how sitting here in the swamp trying to force the citizens of Westkeep to take up our ways protects Keoland or wins anyone to our cause. They don’t see us as liberators, just another conquering army. If anything we should be doing as Duke Luschan bids and build up a fleet to take the fight directly to the Scarlet Brotherhood in their own land. But even then, no one has declared war on Keoland, the Pact of Greyhawk still stands. We have no legitimate pretext for going to war against them.”

Fingol nods his approval at this. Gar, who is sitting across from Burne, also nods his approval of Sir Jankin’s words at the same moment as Fingol.

This is as much as Sir Gorman, one of the watch commanders who sits to Gar’s left and across from Fingol, can stomach. Sir Gorman is probably in his late twenties or early thirties, has a light brown complexion, curly dark brown hair, and brown eyes. “Sir Jankin, I know you were but a boy then, but surely you haven’t forgotten the Scarlet Brotherhood’s attempt to invade Gradsul with that armada from the Lordship of the Isles. Yes, I know that was before the Pact of Greyhawk was signed, but don’t you think they’ll try it again as soon as they have secured the Hold? Then it’ll be a Hold fleet built right within sight of our own watchtowers that will be sent against us. King Skotti saw that when the Holders finally rose up against the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood monks even began fighting among themselves, these so called Red and Black factions, that the time was ripe to come here and bring order to this land, and not the order of oppression but the order of justice. Those who don’t see this are holding King Skotti back. This is not only our opportunity but even our responsibility to save our own people, and even the people of the Hold. Instead of petitioning the king to withdraw, the Council of Niole Dra should be petitioning him to build up his forces here. But no, they’d prefer to quibble over abstract legalities while chaos descends upon us all and we are cut off from all supply and reinforcement. If Westkeep falls, then all this will truly have been for nothing, and disorder alone will reign. Furthermore it will be a disorder that will not stop in the Hool Marshes or Monmurg but will spread like a cancer throughout our lands.”

Gar notices Fingol’s consternation at Sir Gorman’s words, and seeing that he is about to speak up gives him an encouraging wink.

“I suppose I am just a boy also,” says Fingol, “but I see your counsel as risking a general war. I’ll trust the wisdom of King Skotti. Perhaps he feels he has risked as much as is prudent for the moment.  For now, each man must do his all to help Prospero hold this land.”

Sir Gorman breaks in quickly, “Bah, if the Scarlet Brotherhood or any other want to take Westkeep back let them come! Better we fight them here, rather than wait until they’ve built up their strength again and come knocking on the gates of Gradsul again or even Niole Dra. Fight them here I say!”

Fingol replies, “Hmmmm… Bring it on, you say?  Well, I suppose it is easier to fight a defensive battle, but such as we are, I would not seek a fight.”

Sir Jankin says, “It’s not really a defensive war if you invade your neighbor on a shallow pretext, nor is it self-defense if you attack first and then plead that you were afraid they might get in the first blow otherwise. And how is it chivalrous to take up your fight against the enemy on someone else’s land so that someone else’s people will suffer the ravages of war? Again I say you cannot fight chaos and evil by bringing it about yourself.”

“Oh please!” sneers Sir Gorman. “We did not create the chaos and evil in these lands. If anything we have liberated these people. Yes, liberated them from the Scarlet Brotherhood who were worse slavers than even the Sea Princes; and liberated them from the chaos and anarchy of the warlords in the western reaches of the Hold that were threatening to overcome even the unjust order the Scarlet Brotherhood were trying to impose. If there is ever going to be any order, peace, or justice in these lands it will be because we brought it with us at the expense of our blood, our sacrifices. Yes, it is an opportunity for us to fight the Scarlet Brotherhood here rather than wait for them to attack our homes, but in the end it is the people of the Hold who will have benefited from our coming.”

Brother Burne raises a mug of ale shouting, “Hear, hear!” to this speech. 

Fingol finds he is growing more and more irritated by the jingoism of Sir Gorman and Brother Burne, and so turning to the more reasonable and rational Sir Jankin, he says, “I agree with you completely, sir. I would that we never came to these lands, but we have. The question now is what to do. And I think we owe it to the people we have freed to treat them honorably. I think we also owe it to them to shore up our defenses so that we can ensure a lasting peace. To retreat now, would only cost more lives. I fear that more than staying. It’s a thin justification I’ll admit. Still, I think it is the best path we have open to us now.” 

Sir Jankin smiles and says, “I agree with you Sir Fingol.” Fingol is addressed this way because he and his father are technically landless knights – as are most of the King’s Rangers. “We are responsible, and it is now a point of honor. More importantly it is now our obligation to defend these people and help them rebuild their lives.” He looks pointedly at the other two saying, “I do not counsel leaving in a callous or craven fashion, please do not mistake my intentions.”

To all this Gar adds, “Good sirs, I am but a humble priest with little understanding of the ways of war, but surely helping the people to rebuild their lives in ways that bring balance and harmony to the world and its inhabitants is a noble course of action.”

In an attempt to turn the conversation away from the war to the town itself, Fingol says, “Well, now that we’ve solved the strategic puzzles of the day, how is Westkeep faring? I’ve been out in the marshes so long I haven’t heard how the soldiers are faring with shoring up defenses or if they are well reinforced. What of the diseases sweeping through town? Are the temples able to care for the sick?”

Sir Gorman replies to this, “Well, the situation with the soldiers is improving a bit. Sir Bodwyn, the Captain of the Guard is seeing to that,” here he nods in the direction of Sir Bodwyn at the High Table. “When King Skotti came here he brought with him many lords of Keoland with their vassals, sergeants, and levees, as well as the mercenary troops. But of course the nobles and their troops were only obligated to serve their yearly 40 days, so soon after the city was taken they headed back with King Skotti. Westkeep was left with Prince Prospero and his household, and Sir Bodwyn and his mercenaries, of which I am one of the commanders. There are also many Knights of the Watch who stayed behind as well, even though some didn’t believe in coming here in the first place,” here he nods to Sir Jankin, “and of course those dispatched by either the Church of Heironeous or the Church of St. Cuthbert” and here he nods to Brother Burne. “Lately though, Sir Bodwyn has succeeded in recruiting from among the locals to fill in our ranks. He finds those he believes can be halfway trustworthy, though how he finds them and how he convinces them to join up I am not entirely sure. In fact, he managed to get a new sorcerer for one of my squads on the night shift. A fresh faced young half-elf with a ferret from around Gradsul. Gods only know what a lad like that was doing in a place like this in the first place.”

Sir Jankin spares a glance towards Sir Bodwyn, and in a disapproving tone says, “Well, I understand that some of Bodwyn’s methods may be a bit, well, underhanded.”

Surprisingly Sir Gorman doesn’t take offence to this criticism of his commander; he frowns and rubs his chin, “Yes, that’s been said. He is one to bend the rules a bit, and he does have a funny sense of humor. Still, he’s my commander, and he’s always done right by us, and done right by those he works for as long as their cause is a good one in his estimation. You won’t find a finer knight leading a troop in all of Keoland, but I’ll admit he’s a sly one.”

Brother Burne then addresses Fingol, “You asked about the sickness in town. First of all this place was made for the plague. It’s hot or at least warm almost all year round, and crawling with vermin. Worse, the city has sunk more than a bit since it was founded so many hundreds of years ago. That’s why we need the levees to hold back the River Javan and Lake Peledor. Consequently it’s all but impossible to properly drain all the waste in the city. That’s why there is so much Filth Fever and the Red Ache, a kind of wasting sickness. Of course there are those who say there may be more sinister causes, and I certainly wouldn’t put it past the Scarlet Brotherhood to find a way to seed Westkeep with sickness in order to drive us out. Unfortunately, we priests of St. Cuthbert and the priests and paladins of Heironeous who are here just don’t have enough divine power to heal so much sickness. Very few of us have been gifted yet with the power to drive away illness I must confess. What healing power we do have is barely enough for our own troops and people. As for the local priests, the Scarlet Brotherhood wiped out all the strongest of them long before we got here. They were a greedy useless lot anyway. The most popular god is Norebo the god of gamblers and rogues. This shows you how selfish, irresponsible, and lawless these people are. We did try to set up a clinic in the city to provide some relief for the worst cases and try to contain the spread of sickness, but it was a disaster. The clinic was mobbed, and the watch had to be called in. Many heads had to be cracked that day just to get our people out. That was it for the clinic idea. Until these people learn to line up and wait their turn like civilized folks, they won’t have our generosity to abuse.”

Sir Jankin shakes his head at this, “Brother Burne, you sometimes sound as cold of heart as the people you criticize. These people are desperate; it is we who must show patience.” He turn to Fingol again, “What Brother Burne says is true though. It is not that we haven’t tried to help, but our resources are very limited and the needs are too great, and until the river passage is opened our supply lines with Keoland proper are all but cut off. As you know the trails through the swamp were not made for regular caravan traffic, and a lot of troops are needed just to guard anything sent to us. I may not share the views of my colleagues, but I do share their frustration. We are all in the same predicament here.”

“Where was the clinic set up?” Fingol asks.

Sir Jankin sighs, “Actually the clinic was established last spring when the Red Ache was breaking out all over and Filth Fever had begun running rampant. It was placed near the marketplace in an abandoned apothecary that was already set up for the brewing of medicines. We had two priests of Heironeous there who were actually able to cast out diseases, but together they could only care for about half a dozen people a day. There were also two of my order there with the power to cast out disease, but each of them could only do it for one person a week. There were also other priests of Heironeous and St. Cuthbert who could create and dispense medicines. None of them were armed or armored, except for daggers and maces. This was to be a mission of mercy not a pitched battle. The members of the day watch responsible for the market place were also on hand – a total of 16 troops who could be called upon in need. That’s all we had to spare. We tried to set up a triage, so we could give herbal remedies to those who might be able to fight off the fever, and reserve divine healing for those who were too sick for that. This worked for a few days, but it wasn’t enough to stem the tide. An overwhelming mob descended upon us. It must have been in the hundreds – the sick and relatives or friends of those who were sick – and many of them were refugees and former slaves who live in the shantytown that has sprung up outside the downriver gate. The people didn’t understand that the priest’s and paladin’s power is not an endless well, and not something to be taken by force. They figured that whoever could grab hold of the priests or paladins first would get healed. It was every man, woman, and child for him or herself. We were lucky the watch was able to beat them back and save the priests and paladins from being torn apart. We priests and paladins of Heironeous tried again a few weeks ago at a chapel we have consecrated in town in the temple district. The followers of St. Cuthbert warned us not to do it, but we had to do something. Unfortunately, they were right. We couldn’t control the mob, and the Guard had to be called in before the mob broke into the temple. They were actually using battering rams to try to get in once we closed the doors when we saw we couldn’t control them. When the Guard came to break up the mob, someone pulled a knife and stabbed one of our knights, the Guard drew their swords and then there was a panic. In the stampede that followed some people died, including a young girl.” Sir Jankin eyes get teary as he recalls this. “I was there you see. We tried to keep everyone calm, but there were just too many, too desperate, and too angry and frightened. There aren’t enough troops or clerics or paladins in this city to do what needs to be done. We didn’t give up, we’ve asked the Prince-Governor to let us try to admit some people into the palace for healing, but he told us the last thing we need is a mob at the gates to the palace. At this point, any cleric or paladin who is identified in the streets as such will get torn apart by the mobs. So we can’t even go out to people’s homes or try to bring people back to the palace. We’re at an impasse. And in any case, almost all our healing power is being used now to keep our own people in good health, for the troops are not immune to sickness, and of the paladins only a handful are actually blessed with divine health.” Sir Jankin looks down forlornly into his wine.

“Maybe you have a better plan, Sir Fingol?” asks Burne.

Gar chimes in, “Oh how terrible! Surely there must be some way to help heal the sick without being torn limb from limb by a mob?”

Fingol asks, “How is the training of the new recruits going? Are they coming along well? Perhaps when the recruits are ready, you’ll have enough men to provide security to the healers… gods willing.”

“Sir Gorman says, “Well, I can only speak for my lads and lasses, but yes they seem to be working out so far. We hold drills in the afternoons on the parade grounds. The other Guard commanders and I take turns drilling our troops and practicing archery and swordplay, and crowd control tactics. My squad is due to have the field tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to come join us if you’d like. You can test your blade against them, and check out our wet behind the ears half-elf sorcerer.”

Fingol responds, “I think I will come out for exercise with your recruits. I feel I could use it. Patrolling in the swamps is a good way to build up my canoeing skills, but my sword is going to rust in its sheath. So perhaps they can get me back into fighting trim.”

The round of debates and discussion among the knights and nobles from Keoland continues throughout the evening. As the various Removes are being brought in, consumed, and then removed, and the diners converse among each other, various entertainers come into the hall and perform for the assembled nobles. They begin at the High Table and then make their way down to the other tables and even into the adjacent halls. There are troubadours, jugglers, and even apprentice magic users or bards who are able to perform acts of prestidigitation and other minor spells for the amusement of the court. The last performer, a half-elven bard with long curly blonde hair and soft blue eyes by the name of Dellin of Pepez, performs the Ballad of the Twin Cataclysms that tells the story of the destruction of the Suloise Imperium a millennia before and how its survivors came to the Sheldomar Valley and made peace with the Oeridian refugees who had come before them, and how together with the native peoples of the land they founded the Kingdom of Keoland.

A millennia ago and more

The great Suel Empire fell to dust

Their houses came to this Azure shore

Behind them homes lost to power lust

For generations the Baklunish and Suel

Fought in the Sulhat passes and halls

Both sides eventually called the hordes of hell

Orcs, and goblins, and worse came to their calls

The Oeridian tribes were driven away

The first to flee for the safer lands of the East

As the hordes of the empires brought dismay

To all those who were considered least

The cause of war now lost to time

But the end is still very clear

Two empires shattered in their prime

By wizards mighty wrath severe

On the Baklunish Empire the Suloise Mages of Power

Joined hands and brought the Invoked Devastation

Turning fertile lands into a burning pyre

Only the Dry Steppes now mark that ancient civilization

But the Baklunish magi-priests were not finished

In the ruins of Tovag Boragu they began to plot

They proved that their power was undiminished

The Rain of Colorless Fire they wrought

This fire burned through flesh and stone

Their cities and gardens burned in a flash

The Suloise were now overthrown

In their place a Sea of Dust and ash

And so the survivors began the Great Migration

Coming to this new land to begin anew

Theirs to choose, peace or war for domination

For the Oeridians and older folk were here too

This time the old houses chose well

With the people of the land they made their peace

Putting away murderous sword and spell

In this way they saw the prosperity of all increase

Nevermore would they allow

The evil of the Twin Cataclysms to fall

Arcane might and evil horde they would disavow

So that a new era could dawn upon them all

Dellin receives great applause for this, (of which only a mangled translation of a few of the verses have been provided), and he receives many gold eagles from the gathered nobles, and Lady Sedara even has one of the servants present him with a bouquet of flowers grown in her hothouse atop the palace. After Dellin’s performance and the serving of the Fourth Remove the feat comes to an end, and the Prince-Governor bids the assembly goodnight. Shortly thereafter, the rest of the assembly return to their homes or quarters in the palace, the servants begin carting the dishes back to the kitchens, gathering up the linen, taking apart the tables for storage, and sweeping out the rushes.