IC Omen Meet
Sundaymorning I picked up my father's car after having a cup of coffee there. It's a sleek black menace, with a powerful engine. A bit too smooth for my tastes.
My dad has a a ZZ-top keychain connected to the key-card. I had already dressed up in my underclothes (brown embroidered jeans, brown turtleneck, brown boots) and the keychain urged this giddy picture:
"New cloak, clean boots / and I don't know where I am going to..."
"She's got le-ggs!" (we did that one a lot!)
It's been a rough couple of week, and it's been long days. Long for anyone, especially for the humans in the caravan who are not used to traveling. Long days for the Anarquendor, who travel many more miles than the rest of the caravan, by scouting for water and food, sheltered places to make camp, and send runners between the main caravan and the forward scouts.
It seems we have finally distanced ourselves sufficiently from the large undead army headed our way. It was probably a shared decision, but the Marquis sent me a message that a day of resting was called. A war council should convene, for the guide the Sun people sent us was having doubts.
I consulted with my elves first. We could stop a day earlier and allow the caravan to catch up, but that would also mean we would have to travel twice as hard to distance ourselves again. I was loathe to leave Nessa and Sairahiniel with Arevalo and Sumolan as their only protection, but I trust Sumolan to lead them to safe shelter should they spy any danger. It has been a while since last we saw undead, and the small raiding parties that we did encounter were swiftly taken care of.
We hardly break our stride these days, even for them.
And so it was that Amras, Luthine, Balamaethor, Asterion and I strode from the woods to meet with the war council. Balamaethor had taken care to erect a tarp a little way from the humans, who had chosen to camp in the middle of a large forest clearing. Our camp was hidden from view, the grey cloth of the tarp blending into the backdrop of the forest well enough to ensure a little more safety should any undead choose to come our way.
The war council had already convened. Some humans, the seeers Lyavanna and Marleen among them, were lounging on blankets, basking in the sun. Marquis Guraksson, Reinard Bouillon de Poulet, Krughal and a man I know to be the priest of Angharad all rose when I approached. The priest fetched me a chair and we all sat beneath the white tent they had chosen to erect.
Reinard summarized what had already been discussed. I was dismayed to hear Captain Francis had fallen in that last, dreadful battle before we were forced to flee. A new judge would have to be appointed, and Reinard and Krughal summarized the meeting far too quickly for me to have any time to think on the decisions they had made. I asked for more time, and everyone nodded.
Our guide, a man named Lionel, was called to the council and we spoke to him. Apparantly, he was unsure such a large group could live in harmony, and he told us that unless we could guarantuee that no-one would try and disrupt the group or even turn against another, he would not lead us into his land. Eight centuries ago the undead threatened us, he said, and we have taken precautions so they can not get to us. It would be foolish to allow others to disturb our peace. We are willing to take in refugees, but not if they usurp our peace in such a way.
His words caused me to believe that he was sure we would not be able to find our way into the lands of the Sun, and I fear that without his guidance we would not be able to find the pass to his lands for it might be shielded magically.
One thing that disturbed me was that the Priest of Angharad was asked to join the war council. I checked with Reinard later, and he agreed that he also had not known why the man was admitted. I'm sure he is a learned priest, but he is not a battle leader and I do not agree to his being on the council. However, this day was not the time to discuss this matter.
Another thing that was discussed in this first meeting was the appointing of a leadership, who would work to find the key to defeating Kalité. It was suggested the seeers would lead the caravan, as they are more capable of finding a way to solve this problem.
However, seeers do not make captains, and I find the sole idea preposterous.
We recessed shortly, and the elves withdrew to our own encampment for a while. There was a small matter still to address, and I asked Reinard to be witness to the appointment of Amras as my Pengyll. Reinard acquiesed and congratulated Amras, saying he was sure it was an honor.
Asterion still had a little bone to pick with the war council though, so the two of us returned to Marquis Guraksson soon after. The Marquis' druid had now taken a seat, and Reinard remained absent as he had different things to discuss with different people.
There was a lengthy debate about how to defend the caravan, the likes of which I shall not repeat to myself as it was distressing enough to see the humans fail to understand Asterion's well-formulated plans in the first place. Suffice to say that if Reinard should fall, the entire line shall falter. Again, I am blessed to have such warriors under my command - the elves know exactly when to fight and what to do, and they require but few commands of mine to fight effectively from the flanks. I am sure that they shall continue fighting even if we are separated (which is why I trust my sister's safety because Sumolan is there with her) or should I come to fall in battle.
Morale is an issue, and one the humans do not think is necessary to address. The humans think that loss bonds people together, and for sure they are partly right. On the other hand, grieving takes time, and loss also inspires other emotions in people - humans and elves alike.
Asterion mentioned that he would not befriend anyone, for fear of them falling in battle, and his comment stung, but I let it pass for the moment. I would not discuss something so personal but in private, and we were still in the midst of a debate, in the wood-elf language no less, to convince those humans that morale is an issue, and one that needed to be addressed.
Sadly, Asterion's words fell on deaf ears.
Lastly, I was relieved to have discussed the difference between Court of Law and Court Martial. The war council wanted to appoint one judge, a paladin of the God of righteousness, who would answer to his God should he decide unwisely or unjustly. However, I know the failings of humans and even some elves, that they are prejudiced against other races. There are Kendar, Highelves and Woodelves, Dwarves and Humans, and so each race should be represented in a court of law if a great crime such as murder is committed.
However, the Anarquendor are in the service of Queen Tisaren Shanaehan of the Woodelves, and as such can not be tried by a civil court, as we answer to the Queen alone. Should any of my men or even I myself commit a crime, they should be tried in a Court Martial by representatives of the Queen's commanders.
It was interesting to view their reactions. The druid, who was sitting directly opposite me, sneered a yes and huffed, looking away and afraid to meet my eyes, while Krughal, Asterion and Marquis Guraksson, and even the Priest of Angharad, nodded in unison.
When this meeting was also concluded, I spoke to Asterion in private. I could finally address the remark he had made in the council, and I asked him if what he had said about befriending people was true.
At first, Asterion didn't seem to understand to what I was hinting - men can be incredibly dense at times - but at last he understood what I was asking. I did not ask him outright whether he considered me a friend, but he interpreted the question that way. "I would fight my way through trees to get to you, if I were to see you fall in battle." he said.
It both soothed and worried me. Amras is now my pengyll, and like Sulein more than able to watch my back. I would not want Asterion to endanger himself to get to me, but I know I cannot stop him from doing so.
The early evening chill was descending on the clearing, and I suggested we tried a little unarmed combat training to warm up, but he seemed to be chilled to the bone, and the fistfighting tricks he was teaching me did not help. I pulled my own cloak about his shoulders and told him to not make me mother him, which made him smile at least.
We each have our own way to deal with friends. Firstly I am a Captain, and only when Captaining is done, can I be Beriadanwen.
Right now, the only thing I am afraid of, is to stop fighting. The Sunelves might see us as refugees, and they are kind and generous to offer us shelter, tents and food. But I fear this will make the humans dependant upon them, unwilling to leave the safety of those lands to deal with the problems our kin is facing.
I will never stop fighting.
My dad has a a ZZ-top keychain connected to the key-card. I had already dressed up in my underclothes (brown embroidered jeans, brown turtleneck, brown boots) and the keychain urged this giddy picture:
"New cloak, clean boots / and I don't know where I am going to..."
"She's got le-ggs!" (we did that one a lot!)
It's been a rough couple of week, and it's been long days. Long for anyone, especially for the humans in the caravan who are not used to traveling. Long days for the Anarquendor, who travel many more miles than the rest of the caravan, by scouting for water and food, sheltered places to make camp, and send runners between the main caravan and the forward scouts.
It seems we have finally distanced ourselves sufficiently from the large undead army headed our way. It was probably a shared decision, but the Marquis sent me a message that a day of resting was called. A war council should convene, for the guide the Sun people sent us was having doubts.
I consulted with my elves first. We could stop a day earlier and allow the caravan to catch up, but that would also mean we would have to travel twice as hard to distance ourselves again. I was loathe to leave Nessa and Sairahiniel with Arevalo and Sumolan as their only protection, but I trust Sumolan to lead them to safe shelter should they spy any danger. It has been a while since last we saw undead, and the small raiding parties that we did encounter were swiftly taken care of.
We hardly break our stride these days, even for them.
And so it was that Amras, Luthine, Balamaethor, Asterion and I strode from the woods to meet with the war council. Balamaethor had taken care to erect a tarp a little way from the humans, who had chosen to camp in the middle of a large forest clearing. Our camp was hidden from view, the grey cloth of the tarp blending into the backdrop of the forest well enough to ensure a little more safety should any undead choose to come our way.
The war council had already convened. Some humans, the seeers Lyavanna and Marleen among them, were lounging on blankets, basking in the sun. Marquis Guraksson, Reinard Bouillon de Poulet, Krughal and a man I know to be the priest of Angharad all rose when I approached. The priest fetched me a chair and we all sat beneath the white tent they had chosen to erect.
Reinard summarized what had already been discussed. I was dismayed to hear Captain Francis had fallen in that last, dreadful battle before we were forced to flee. A new judge would have to be appointed, and Reinard and Krughal summarized the meeting far too quickly for me to have any time to think on the decisions they had made. I asked for more time, and everyone nodded.
Our guide, a man named Lionel, was called to the council and we spoke to him. Apparantly, he was unsure such a large group could live in harmony, and he told us that unless we could guarantuee that no-one would try and disrupt the group or even turn against another, he would not lead us into his land. Eight centuries ago the undead threatened us, he said, and we have taken precautions so they can not get to us. It would be foolish to allow others to disturb our peace. We are willing to take in refugees, but not if they usurp our peace in such a way.
His words caused me to believe that he was sure we would not be able to find our way into the lands of the Sun, and I fear that without his guidance we would not be able to find the pass to his lands for it might be shielded magically.
One thing that disturbed me was that the Priest of Angharad was asked to join the war council. I checked with Reinard later, and he agreed that he also had not known why the man was admitted. I'm sure he is a learned priest, but he is not a battle leader and I do not agree to his being on the council. However, this day was not the time to discuss this matter.
Another thing that was discussed in this first meeting was the appointing of a leadership, who would work to find the key to defeating Kalité. It was suggested the seeers would lead the caravan, as they are more capable of finding a way to solve this problem.
However, seeers do not make captains, and I find the sole idea preposterous.
We recessed shortly, and the elves withdrew to our own encampment for a while. There was a small matter still to address, and I asked Reinard to be witness to the appointment of Amras as my Pengyll. Reinard acquiesed and congratulated Amras, saying he was sure it was an honor.
Asterion still had a little bone to pick with the war council though, so the two of us returned to Marquis Guraksson soon after. The Marquis' druid had now taken a seat, and Reinard remained absent as he had different things to discuss with different people.
There was a lengthy debate about how to defend the caravan, the likes of which I shall not repeat to myself as it was distressing enough to see the humans fail to understand Asterion's well-formulated plans in the first place. Suffice to say that if Reinard should fall, the entire line shall falter. Again, I am blessed to have such warriors under my command - the elves know exactly when to fight and what to do, and they require but few commands of mine to fight effectively from the flanks. I am sure that they shall continue fighting even if we are separated (which is why I trust my sister's safety because Sumolan is there with her) or should I come to fall in battle.
Morale is an issue, and one the humans do not think is necessary to address. The humans think that loss bonds people together, and for sure they are partly right. On the other hand, grieving takes time, and loss also inspires other emotions in people - humans and elves alike.
Asterion mentioned that he would not befriend anyone, for fear of them falling in battle, and his comment stung, but I let it pass for the moment. I would not discuss something so personal but in private, and we were still in the midst of a debate, in the wood-elf language no less, to convince those humans that morale is an issue, and one that needed to be addressed.
Sadly, Asterion's words fell on deaf ears.
Lastly, I was relieved to have discussed the difference between Court of Law and Court Martial. The war council wanted to appoint one judge, a paladin of the God of righteousness, who would answer to his God should he decide unwisely or unjustly. However, I know the failings of humans and even some elves, that they are prejudiced against other races. There are Kendar, Highelves and Woodelves, Dwarves and Humans, and so each race should be represented in a court of law if a great crime such as murder is committed.
However, the Anarquendor are in the service of Queen Tisaren Shanaehan of the Woodelves, and as such can not be tried by a civil court, as we answer to the Queen alone. Should any of my men or even I myself commit a crime, they should be tried in a Court Martial by representatives of the Queen's commanders.
It was interesting to view their reactions. The druid, who was sitting directly opposite me, sneered a yes and huffed, looking away and afraid to meet my eyes, while Krughal, Asterion and Marquis Guraksson, and even the Priest of Angharad, nodded in unison.
When this meeting was also concluded, I spoke to Asterion in private. I could finally address the remark he had made in the council, and I asked him if what he had said about befriending people was true.
At first, Asterion didn't seem to understand to what I was hinting - men can be incredibly dense at times - but at last he understood what I was asking. I did not ask him outright whether he considered me a friend, but he interpreted the question that way. "I would fight my way through trees to get to you, if I were to see you fall in battle." he said.
It both soothed and worried me. Amras is now my pengyll, and like Sulein more than able to watch my back. I would not want Asterion to endanger himself to get to me, but I know I cannot stop him from doing so.
The early evening chill was descending on the clearing, and I suggested we tried a little unarmed combat training to warm up, but he seemed to be chilled to the bone, and the fistfighting tricks he was teaching me did not help. I pulled my own cloak about his shoulders and told him to not make me mother him, which made him smile at least.
We each have our own way to deal with friends. Firstly I am a Captain, and only when Captaining is done, can I be Beriadanwen.
Right now, the only thing I am afraid of, is to stop fighting. The Sunelves might see us as refugees, and they are kind and generous to offer us shelter, tents and food. But I fear this will make the humans dependant upon them, unwilling to leave the safety of those lands to deal with the problems our kin is facing.
I will never stop fighting.