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Post by talis on Sept 19, 2014 19:01:38 GMT
"Fine, you'll have your gold." Garlog grumbled. "You are of course, welcome to stay as a guest until the shipment is ready, if you wish." This was expected courtesy in a Firetooth hall - guests were welcomed and expected to be treated civilly, no matter the situation.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 12, 2014 7:19:47 GMT
The winter snows of the year 817 had been unusually heavy in the mountains North of the Firetooth Clans. Now that the New Year had dawned, the snows had melted and brought the River Karmozijin to unprecedented depth and breadth. While a nuisance for countless villagers, for a certain Survaekom admiral it was exactly what he had been waiting for. Finally, a way to get the galleass Heavenly Wind to fit in the Aed-forsaken river. And he wasn't about to travel up it any other way.
So it was the Grand Admiral Selman Reyid fortuitously set off for his long-overdue visit to Thundercrown, northerly wind easing the burden of his hundreds of rowers as the enormous vessel made its way upstream. Orcs in the river villages, and eventually in the capital, would first note his arrival by the enormous sails emblazoned with the Golden Sun, Reyid's personal symbol. But this time, since he wasn't about to invest personal funds in any ambitious projects so far North and didn't really trust orcish types in the first place, he had gone ahead and hoisted the Imperial colors as well.
He had even left his trusted subordinate, Kalwa Delviu, at port in Juturna. These were dangerous lands, and it would hardly do to bring the poor Byrnian to them just after setting off his auspicious career as the Juturna Garrison Admiral. No, this was a place only for those of truly heroic strength and valor, like the Grand Admiral himself.
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Post by talis on Oct 12, 2014 7:43:52 GMT
The sight of an Imperial Galleass so far north as Thundercrown was certainly an odd sight. The city was situated at the northernmost point seagoing vessels could travel up the river, but smuggling a Galleass up was quite a feat - if not altogether foolish. Whatever business the Survaekom had they'd best be about it quick, before the snow-water dried up and the river left the ship stranded for a year.
Chief Garlog was in sour spirits as he strode down to the dock. Aside from a few skirmishes the wastelander orcs hadn't dared attack the new Firetooth settlement to the south, leaving him stewing over a bunch of incompetent sons trying to fill good boots. He had whipped the troops into shape as best he could, seen that the fortifications were well constructed, and then returned to Thundercrown at the request of the elders. Now the Survaekom had decided to show their faces in Firetooth lands again and he had to greet them and no doubt put up with their complaining.
He grabbed one of the retainers as the door as an honor guard and marched down to the ship in his new buffalo-skin cloak, thick and warm despite the frost on his breath, Faanderung slung across his back. There was no way the Galleass would fit anywhere but the deepest part of the river, so he waited impatiently at the docks while the newcomers were ferried over on boats.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 12, 2014 20:12:03 GMT
Without Delviu, the Grand Admiral had opted to bring one of his sturdier marines along, less as a bodyguard than as a bearer for an enormous Imperial Flag that fluttered in the wind behind the commander as he approached the orcish dignitary.
"Greetings!" he announced with a proud wave of both arms. "Allow me to introduce myself, noble representative of the Firetooth Clans." He probably didn't need to go through all of the usual formalities, but he couldn't resist the temptation. "I am Grand Admiral Selman Reyid, Master of the Seas, Conqueror of the Shores, Explorer-Cartographer of the far edges of this World, and First among the seaborne servants of Aed's majestic Empire!" With every successive title, Reyid's voice boomed louder. "I arrive today in my capacity as sworn Warrior and Ambassador of the Sword of Aed, his Majesty Emperor Vokoryn II Khaitis. I bear proposals for negotiation, should your Lord see fit to grace me with an audience."
The orcish soldier seemed like a high officer of some sort, with the buffalo-hide cloak and finely-crafted wheel-lock musket. Hopefully he could bring Reyid to the King or Chieftain or whatever the half-barbarians called their liege.
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Post by talis on Oct 12, 2014 23:22:17 GMT
"And I am Garlog Whiteshot, Chieftain of the Firetooth Clan." Garlog grumbled, arms crossed in uninviting stubbornness. "What do you want Survaekom? It's barely been a year since your last bureaucrat visited. I thought we had an agreement." The unspoken agreement being that the Firetooth would pay their gold and send their troops if the empire would leave well enough alone.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 13, 2014 0:50:18 GMT
Admiral Reyid squinted his eyes as he looked this Garlog fellow over. Gruff, not especially well-dressed, mean-eyed, and with a ill-mannered temperament. A dubious figure if he ever saw one...was this really the Firetooth Chief? Reyid expected even half-barbarians to have leaders with some level of respectability. The so-called Chief had mistaken the single greatest admiral of Survaekom history for a simple bureaucrat, after all!
After a moment of thought, he decided this had to be some sort of ploy. But he wouldn't pass over an opportunity for a bit of verbal sparring.
"Well, Chief," his tone practically oozed doubt, "I believe your question is flawed in two respects. Firstly, as a member of the Grand Empire, you too are Survaekom!" He raised a finger as if to add Aha! "Secondly, whatever agreement you apparently came to with whatever bureaucrat is no reason for his Majesty Emperor Vokoryn II, Aed bless his name, not to propose additional agreements under the blessed auspices of the New Year!
"It is a time of renewed life and friendship after all, your most Chiefly Chiefliness, Chief Galrog Whiteshot of the Firetooth Clans." He offered the orc a wry smile as he bowed down in faux respect for whoever the lad was. Probably some off-duty soldier poking fun at outsiders to pass the time.
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Post by talis on Oct 13, 2014 1:03:06 GMT
"I don't suppose you'd consider proposing them now so I can say 'no' and get this over with?" Garlog grumbled. Perhaps he'd go on a hunting trip after this; he needed to kill something. "No of course you're not. Fine. I'll take you to the Longhouse for a proper reception. Will you be staying as a guest or are you planning on sleeping in that floating castle of yours?" He glanced at the enormous Galleass floating precariously in the center of the river. The implied threat was obvious, although Garlog didn't consider much of it. The river was only high enough for such ships a couple months out of the year, and a good cannon battery on a hill could cripple or sink such ships without even receiving counter-fire.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 13, 2014 3:35:52 GMT
Proper reception? Guest? Either this soldier was very committed to his practical joke...or he was who he claimed to be. A Chief on foot, in a hunter's cloak, carrying a gun? These orcish types were truly bizarre. The Grand Admiral would need to stay on guard.
"I wouldn't dare refuse the world-renowned hospitality of the Firetooth Clans," he replied with his best attempt at sounding humble. "My banner-man and I would be honored to stay as guests in your...ehr...Longhouse. Lead the way, Galrog Whiteshot!"
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Post by talis on Oct 13, 2014 3:57:43 GMT
"Obviously." Garlog grumbled under his breath, more out of sour mood than anything else. He lead Admiral Reyid up the street to the longhouse, which overlooked the harbor from atop a small hill. It was in fact a longhall, but such a hall as could impress even southern visitors. The building stood four stories tall, supported by enormous wooden trunks carved with heroic reliefs. A long brazier heated the center of the hall with burning coals, flanked by wide tables. Doors connected to a dozen auxiliary rooms that contained the kitchens, guest-rooms and private chambers. At one end of the hall on a raised dais was a carved wooden chair for the chief, etched in patterns, inlaid with gold and covered in furs. On either side were half a dozen seats for the elders.
Garlog shoved the doors open and ordered one of the armed retainers to gather the elders for an audience. Then he marched up to the chieftain's seat, hung Faaderung on a mount above it, and promptly sat down in the seat. The two dozen or so guests and retainers in the hall all turned to watch the proceeding with interest. "Welcome to my hall," Garlog leaned forward in his throne, "You are a welcome as a guest as long as you desire to remain here. Now what brings you to Firetooth lands, Admiral Reyid?"
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 13, 2014 5:30:37 GMT
There was no denying it now. This truly was the Chief of the Firetooth. Admiral Reyid would have to get used to the unusual ways of these Far Northern orcs...at least for a day or two. Then he could return to civilization.
"Your Chiefliness," he bowed again, this time more genuinely, "I am here on an important mission from none other than his Majesty the Emperor himself! For ages, your noble people have stayed the tide of Wasteland Orc raiders and warbands. But disturbing reports have reached us of wastelanders massing in unprecedented numbers. We do not fear for your own western border, of course. Rather, we request your cooperation on another front: the North, were we fear ambitious armies may circle to avoid your ancient battle-lines.
"In his incomparable Wisdom and Benevolence, his Majesty would that you extend your blessing to the construction of an Imperial Fortress at the far northeastern edge of the mountain-range just beyond Thundercrown. The cooperation of loyal vassals, if only in the simple tasks of help navigating the mountains and foraging the land, would allow us to secure the Northern Frontier without drawing away from your long-honored tradition of guarding the West.
"Furthermore, to further combat the rising Orcish Menace, his Majesty is prepared to offer you bounties for the elimination of northwestern orc clans and settlements beyond the mountains. 2,000 jiien per village, 6,000 jiien per keep if any exist, and 1,000 jiien per one-hundred heads of warriors. Naturally, any success in such matters would need to be verified by an imperial representative, preferably on-site after the battle. Presumably, the available official would be the garrison commander of the fortress-to-be, who should arrive ahead of the construction crews."
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Post by talis on Oct 13, 2014 6:00:28 GMT
"No." Garlog almost interrupted the admiral. "If you want to pay us to kill wastelanders you're welcome to come along, or send someone who won't faint at the sight of blood and powder-smoke. But you will not construct a fortress on Firetooth lands, nor will you have our assistance or permission to do so. Guarding the west is our ancestral right, and if the wastelanders come we will march to meet them, whichever route they take." He abruptly stood up and gestured to one of the servant-girls.
"Ashka will show you to your chambers. If you have anything else to speak of we will discuss it in court on the morrow."
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 13, 2014 6:18:17 GMT
Grand Admiral Selman Reyid was stunned. For the first time in decades, he didn't know what to say. The sheer brusqueness and insolence of the retort, and to one of the Emperor's most esteemed commanders! This would not stand.
"You say no?" he finally managed to blurt out before the Chief had left. "Then I say no as well! I do not need the hospitality of a fickle vassal who rejects offhand, with a single word, the long-pondered proposals of his Majesty the Sword of Aed! It would do me far more honor to be lodged with my galley-slaves, who at the very least know the Duty and Respect of true Aedakom Survaekom!
"Good-day to you, your Chiefliness!" With that, the Grand Admiral swung around and began marching furiously towards the main entrance to join his banner-man and head back to the Heavenly Wind.
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Post by talis on Oct 13, 2014 6:45:04 GMT
Garlog glowered darkly as he watched the admiral go, bristling at the impetuous little man's insults. A lesser fool would have challenged him to a duel for those remarks, but Garlog was no fool. He understood the deadly implications of a Chieftain challenging a representative of the emperor to a duel, whatever his blood and honor said. Still, the insult would not go unanswered. First though, there were more important issues at hand. He needed to gather the Elders and discuss what had happened. If the wastelanders were on the move they must prepare to meet them. And he would need their support in refusing Reyid's "offer."
The next morning, before the sun had risen across the wastes, he sent a courier down to the ship with a message for Reyid. The young orc in a soft cloak with a silver chain around his neck bowed before the admiral. "Chief Garlog and the House Elders of the Firetooth invite the esteemed admiral to attend court at second watch after sunrise and, if it pleases you, to attend the evening feast with your lieutenants. Chief Garlog also passes on his regards for the unfortunate meeting yesterday and instructed me to present you with this gift." The young orc lifted up a dark, wooden box inlaid with gold and opened the latch.
Resting on the velvet was an intricately designed wheelock pistol. Its workings were polished bronze that shone almost as bright as gold. The wood was light maple, smooth to the touch and delightful in its lightness. Someone had etched a small image of thunder into the top-plate. Also in the box was a solid bronze press-block for bullets and a similar cleaning rod.
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 13, 2014 16:53:22 GMT
A gift? Something was wrong here. As much as Selman knew he deserved this finely-crafted offering and the apology that came with it, he was skeptical that the brutish Firetooth Chief meant it well. He accepted the invitation, and the gift, with suspicion in his eyes. Before daring to return to the Longhall, the Admiral was careful to check the pistol for any manner of traps or defects.
"Hold onto it until I return," Reyid ordered to his Second Mate before departing. "But if the contraption acts suspiciously or gives you any trouble, throw it into the river."
Just as Garlog and his Elders had "invited," Grand Admiral Selman Reyid arrived in the Firetooth Court at the second watch after dawn, followed by his banner-man.
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Post by talis on Oct 13, 2014 17:49:51 GMT
The Firetooth court was a much more formal and grand affair than Garlog's simple audience the day before. Garlog himself was still in a tunic and cloak, but he wore a golden chain around his neck and several shining rings on his fingers. On either flank the Elders sat in their own seats - old Orcs with canny eyes. Retainers in cuirass and chain stood in strategic locations to maintain order. Many observers and petitioners stood within the hall or sat along the tables, watching Reyid as he approached or waiting their turn to speak with the Chief.
"Welcome to my Hall, Admiral Selman Reyid of Survaek. I have spoken with the Elders of Clan Firetooth, and we have concluded that we must decline your request for assistance building a Survaekom Fortress to the north. We are willing to consider other, less permanent means to counteract the admittedly serious threat posed by the wastelanders." Garlog grumbled along, putting no effort into the formality of his speech aside from pantomiming the words.
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