Episode 1: A Spark in Stoverj

Gokrenxia    Prose    Tales of the Inner Council      Episode 1: A Spark in Stoverj

Previously, on Tales of the Inner Council

King Ga'jam Ch'luun has passed from this world, and in his Final Decree he disolved the monarchy of the fledgling kingdom of Vath'azen. Instead, he has left the 50-years young kingdom in the hands of his Inner Council, comprised of Davu Pa'lakh, Jenta Hua'zur, Chodvar Taibil, and Yahri Negdahe. In a surprise turn of events, he also appointed a Myndikin to the new "ruling" council, a decision which has rapidly led to deep anger in the capital city of Stoverj.

Stoverj Council Chambers

"Can you believe this?!" The sharp voice of Vath'azen's raven-feathered Chief Diplomat, Lord Yahri Negdahe, pierced the calm of the council chambers like an arrow through a hay bale even before the guards managed to fully open the pair of heavy doors. He marched in with purpose, waving the rolled-up scroll in his charcoal-taloned hand.
"It's not bad enough the King left us without an heir. Now he's gone and appointed a Myndikin to the council; a Dwarf at that? Why a Dwarf? Why THIS Dwarf? WHAT was he thinking?!"
The other council members, the fox-like Grand Marshall, Davu Pa'lakh, the lizard-like Master of Commerce, Chodvar Taibil, and the panther-like Mistress of Whispers, Jenta Hua'zur, seated around the small square table at the center of the room, looked up from their conversation.
Davu shot a disapproving glance to the guards at the door, who realized they were lingering a bit too long, most likely hoping to glean some insight into the latest happenings. Diverting their gaze out of embarrassment, they quickly corrected themselves and pulled the doors shut with a thundering echo.
"Lord Negdahe," Chodvar began calmly, his gold-ringed, bulbous eyes rotating forward.
Jenta huffed audibly. Always so formal, she thought, shaking her head in disapproval. If Chodvar noticed, he simply ignored her and continued.
"How are the people responding?"
"How do you think, Lord Taibil," Yahri retorted, his black feathers ruffling some as he launched into a stream of thoughts. "I have been in touch with many members of the court. The people are awash in uncertainty at the idea that there will be no King. The tension in the air is palpable. The nobility clearly see this as threat to their very way of life. We have to act decisively here before fear leads people to take matters into their own hands."
The deep, mocking female voice of Jenta Hua'zur cut him off as he paused to inhale. "And what, exactly, does 'decisive action' look like here, Yahri?"
From the plush burgundy-colored couch, Davu raised an eyebrow and looked to Chodvar, knowing how much he hated Jenta's casual and informal addressing of the nobility. He suspected she often did it intentionally to bait the young Master of Commerce. Much to his disappointment though, Chodvar chose not to respond to the provocation. Damn that characteristic Mahnkii patience, he mused.
"I..." Yahri started to respond, but hesitated. "I don't know." He took a deep breath, his gleaming feathers smoothing back slightly. He moved further into the room and sat down next to Chodvar, speaking more slowly, solemnly. "I just know we have to do something. We can't let this dream fall apart."
A heavy silence fell upon the room; a held breath in the calm before the storm. It was Chodvar who finally spoke, with great resolve.
"Then let us at least agree together that we will not allow that to happen. We may not always see eye to eye," he shot a look to Jenta that Davu caught. "But we must stand united in this. I agree with Lord Negdahe that we must be fully committed to protecting the Kingdom our late King has entrusted into this council's hands. Let us agree here and now to place the good of this Kingdom above our personal ambitions."
Raised voices echoed down the halls beyond the council chamber, loud enough to penetrate the thick wooden doors. All heads turned as the entrance swung open once again.
"Grand Marshall," one of the guards began frantically. "A mob of young Vath nobles has been seen burning Myndikin homes."
"We are here to support you, Grand Marshall," Chodvar interjected.
Davu sprung to his feet from the deep cushions and glanced back to his fellow members of the council. "It seems decisive action is needed sooner than we thought. Lord Negdahe, with me. I'll need you to try and talk sense into these fools." The Chief Diplomat nodded in understanding and rose quickly, chasing after the Grand Marshall who was already out the door.
"I do hope he doesn't kill anyone," Chodvar noted into the sudden silence that descended upon the room.
Jenta responded with an uncharacteristic hint of sincerity. "On that, my young Lord, we agree."

Show spoiler

What follows is an Ironsworn RPG solo session. My notes will generally be captured in the form of: action: six-sider/ten-sider/ten-sider-result(Strong, Weak, Miss)-Effect

Show spoiler

Setting: Council Chambers
Oracle – Town Status: Support Superstition
YN: Courtier 2: What does he know? Gather Information:

8/7/8 - W +1M

CT: Bannersworn. Swear an Iron Vow: Protect and uphold the vision of Vath'azen. Formidable.

3/7/7 - Crit Miss!

Reroll all!: 3/8/8 Crit Miss!

Oracle – Situation?

Command Fame

DP: Devotant - Daily prayers results? Secure an Advantage

8/7/6 Strong +1M

CT: Loyalist Aid an Ally. Secure an Advantage (+heart) 5/2/6 - W

CT: +1 M

DP: +1 on next move

DP: Swear an Iron Vow – Stop the Young Noble mob. Troublesome.

8/6/8 - W +1M

In the Streets of Stoverj

Davu and Yahri raced across Stoverj at a breakneck pace, tracing the plume of dark smoke climbing skyward in the distance. Davu held back Sa'vaad, his powerful steed, ensuring Yahri wasn't left behind. Turning a sharp corner, Davu found himself speeding toward a sinkhole in the uneven cobblestone street without enough time to stop.
"Look out," he yelled back to Yahri, urging Sa'vaad to jump it. With years of well-practiced battle-training, Sa'vaad leapt into the air, while behind him Yahri reigned his horse hard to the right. Sa'vaad landed hard with a noticeable stutter step on his front right leg and unleashed a quick snort. As he pulled to a stop, Davu exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He slid his hand down Sa'vaad's muscular brown shoulder and made a mental note to check his trusty mount's leg as soon as they returned to the stables. Yahri rounded the sinkhole to join them. Several townsfolk stopped to survey the situation.
"That was an impressive jump," Yahri began. "Is your horse alright? It looked like he came down wrong."
"He'll be fine. We've seen much worse. Let's go." Davu paused for a moment and turned back to Yahri, who met his gaze inquisitively. "When we arrive, take charge and diffuse the situation. I want to avoid anyone getting hurt, if we can."
"Of course," Yahri nodded, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
The pair pressed on.

* * * * *

"Get out of the way," the Grand Marshall bellowed authoritatively as they approached the burning homes. Whether the angry youths couldn't hear him or were simply being uncooperative, they were slow to clear a path. Davu threw an expectant glance to Yahri, who nodded in understanding.
Off to one side, a human man screamed with rage and fear as he struggled against the grip of two brown-feathered Shar'elum noblemen. They forced him to his knees.
"Katrinaaaaa," the man yelled, tears streaming down his face, his gaze laser-focused on one of the burning homes.
Oh no, thought Davu, who dropped to the ground and raced toward the consuming flames without hesitation.
The door to the home had already partially collapsed. Hungry flames devoured the dry wooden structure. Placing his arm over his face, Davu crashed through a window with little regard for his own safety. Smoke filled the room and he caught the distinct scent of burnt fur as floating embers made contact with his own skin.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me," he yelled, coughing, but there was no response.

* * * * *

Outside, the crowd watched with menacing glares as Yahri wheeled his horse in between them and the burning houses. Dismounting, he surveyed those present, hoping to quickly identify friendly faces from at least a few of the prominent court families. Unfortunately, he was less familiar with the children of the court than those nobles who frequented court themselves. The feathers along his neck rose slightly in nervousness. He stood tall and projected his shrill voice.
"Young Lords of Vath'azen," he began. "Stop this madness now, before it is too late!" He paused for a moment, as portions of the crowd quieted. "You are angry. You want your voices to be heard. I am Lord Yahri Negdahe, the Chief Diplomat and Arbiter of Vath'azen. I see you. I will lend an ear to your concerns. But this," he waved his hand to the crackling flames and popping wood behind him. "THIS is not the path to change!"

* * * * *

Inside the house Davu pressed forward, eyes stinging from the smoke. Sweat drenched his orange and white fur from the stifling heat. He eyed the fiery path back to the window and began to question whether anyone could be alive in this inferno.
"Lady Tembryan, be my guide," he whispered, placing his hand on the heavy gold and purple thistle amulet he always wore around his neck. As if responding to his prayer, the smoke parted for but a moment revealing a pair of female legs stretched out and motionless on a bedroom floor just ahead. Davu pressed his body against the ash-covered floor and crawled under the hallway's fallen debris.

* * * * *

Yahri stepped cautiously into the middle of the crowd. "Yes," he shouted. "I was just as shocked as all of you at our late King Ch'luun's decree. I think everyone on his inner council was. We expected to shepherd this kingdom during some kind of transition period, but we had no thoughts toward ruling ourselves. And his decision to name a Dwarf to the council..." several curses could be heard as he broached the topic. "I do not pretend to understand it. But this Myndikin man," he pointed to the restrained human. Their eyes locked.
"He, and his family did nothing to you. I wager he rose each morning, and diligently plied his particular trade, bringing his particular gifts and talents to our fine city. I wager he, like your mothers and fathers, simply seeks to put food on the table, to care for his family, and to make ends meet. I tell you again this chaos is not the path to bring about change. Your fury is misdirected. Go home!"
Seeing wisdom in his words, a small portion of the crowd began to disperse.

* * * * *

Davu was relieved to see the woman's chest rise and fell in shallow breaths. There was hope, but she was unresponsive and trapped below a smoldering ceiling rafter. He scanned the room, identifying another piece of debris he might use as leverage.
"Leave her alone," cried a girl's voice suddenly as something collided into him from his left, knocking him slightly off-balance. A dizzying frenzy of blond hair and child-sized fists barreled down upon Davu's head and back.
"Ow! Ow! Hey! STOP IT," he yelled, reaching back and fiercely clamping down on the girl's wrist.
"Leave my mother alone," she yelled with wild ferocity and intensity, continuing to swing her free arm.
"Dammit child! I'm trying to HELP!" A fit of coughing overtook the Grand Marshall and he dropped her to the floor. She scooted away, putting herself between her mother and Davu.
She paused, uncertain of the fox-man's true intent. Tear-stained lines drew down her ash-covered face. Her shining blue eyes flicked to her mother, and back to meet Davu's. All hints of his ire melted away.
"I've got you," Davu whispered, sounding less convincing than he’d hoped. He leaned toward the unconscious woman. "Both of you," he continued. The girl sat back in a fit of coughing.
Straining with all his might, Davu dragged a heavy wooden beam across the room. The child rushed to his side, throwing what little strength she had to the task. Together they wedged the beam under the fallen rafter. It wasn't much, but removed just enough pressure to allow the pair to pull the woman out.
The girl touched her hand to the woman's cheek. "Mama," she questioned, a tremble to her tone.
Doubts crept into Davu's mind. He was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to get them all out the way he came in. The hall was completely consumed in flames. Choking smoke and searing fire filled the opening to the attic above them. There were no windows to be seen and the outer wall of the dwelling looked too thick to try and smash through. It was then he felt a small hand on his leg. He looked to the young girl and tried to force a reassuring smile.
"Get Mama," she started, biting her lower lip. "This way. I know the night way."
"The what?" Davu questioned.
She tugged on his cloak. "Come. Hurry."
Davu scooped the mother gently into his arms and followed the girl around the debris pile. Much to his surprise, a charred rug was rolled to one side and a trapdoor in the floor stood open.
"You beautiful, brilliant child," smiled Davu.
The girl stopped abruptly, turning, wide-eyed to face the fox-like man. "Don't tell papa," she declared. "He'll be very mad."
"Oh! Of course," Davu responded with all the seriousness he could muster. As they descended a set of old wooden stairs, Davu wondered how Yahri was fairing with the crowd outside.

* * * * *

"Liar," shouted a voice from the crowd with such venom that Yahri flinched. A black-scaled lizard-like nobleman, one of the Mahnkii, dressed in burgundy and black garb, pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
"I know you, Lord Yahri Negdahe!" He waggled his finger in disgusted accusation. "I know your brother! I have heard your story; how you rode his coat tails into the throne room and stole the mantle of Chief Diplomat from under his nose." He turned in a slow circle, addressing the crowd.
"This Shar'elum raven is a liar and a thief! He lied to everyone around him and stole a title from his own brother that was not rightfully his! Now, he has orchestrated and manipulated all of us in an attempt to steal the very throne itself! I call him liar! I say down with the false Council!"
“Down with the false Council,” rallied the crowd as they rushed in. An overwhelming terror seized Yahri's heart, as overwhelming odds laid hands on his person.

* * * * *

Davu couldn't tell which direction they were headed. Frankly, he didn't care. The tunnel, or "night way" as the girl had called it, was cool and well kept, with lanterns spaced at regular intervals. It was a fairly short, straight shot with only a single bend to the matching stairs at the other end.
"What's your name?" Davu asked as they walked.
"Katrina," she said with a proud smile, but as she glimpsed her mother's unconscious form in Davu's arms, concern washed over her face.
"I think she'll be okay," he said kindly. Katrina nodded confidently and quickly scaled the stairs at the tunnel's end two at a time. She unlocked the trapdoor in the ceiling and swung it down into the stairwell. Her little fingers gripped a metal grate several inches above and slid it to one side. Clearly this was not the first time she'd performed this excursion. While he was extremely thankful for the presence of this tunnel, an uneasy feeling left Davu wondering at its true purpose.
Light from the tunnel stretched up into a dark room filled with various crates and barrels. Firelight from Katrina's burning home flickered along the door frame. Davu moved quickly to survey the situation.
Passing through the door, he found himself in a small storefront across the street from Katrina's house. Apparently the tunnel led to the store's back room. He shook his head at the senseless violence. It was only then he realized the remaining nobles, now much smaller than the original group was in a mobbed frenzy, kicking and striking two forms on the ground. His breath caught as he noted one of the form's black feathers... Yahri!
Davu laid Katrina's mother down ever so gently on the ground.
"Stay with her," he said to the girl, his voice gone cold. "Whatever you hear, don't look. Whatever you do, stay here until I come back for you."
She said something, but he was already out the door, filled with adrenaline, fury, and fear for the safety of his friend.
Davu practically flew across the street. He unleashed a guttural roar as he charged forward, slamming into the mass of bodies. Though they vastly outnumbered him, the young nobles were timid and unprepared for his ferocity. They were largely unarmed and had little practical combat experience to face the Grand Marshall. Davu whistled loudly, and nearby Sa'vaad whinnied in response.
He turned and punched, dodged and kicked, a fanatical tornado of terror dancing his way through the crowd; leaving behind a trail of broken bones and cries of pain; not killing, but incapacitating one combatant after next. From down the street, Davu caught the sound of Sa'vaad's rapidly approaching hooves growing louder and with a smile stole a glance at the approaching dust cloud.
Head down, Sa'vaad plowed through the young nobles at full speed, casting aside any who had missed his coming or chose not to get out of his way. His momentum carried him all the way to the center of the brawl, and his trusted master. Davu pulled his two blades from Sa'vaad's saddle, a wild look in his eyes. He stood over Yahri's crumpled and bleeding form, using the reach of his weapons to keep the mob at arm's length.
"Listen to me!" Davu growled with rage, baring his teeth, sword pointing at the surrounding crowd. "Any Lord who does not walk away right now may not survive the day. No more words!" Quite a few nobles backed further away cautiously.
The black-scaled Mahnkii stepped forward from the circle, a smug grin across his face. He spoke loud enough for all too hear, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"And what are you going to do Grand Marshall? Kill..." His sentence abruptly ended as the point of Davu's longsword pierced his throat and exited the back of his neck, spraying those behind the young noble with blood.
Someone screamed.
"He... He stabbed Aabinus!"
And with that, the crowd scattered as the young noble's lifeless body fell awkwardly backward, landing with a thud.

* * * * *

From the surrounding shops, several doors flung opened. A handful of humans and elves rushed to Davu's side. He refused any aid until they'd attended to the man he now assumed was Katrina's father and Yahri. He next pointed the good samaritans to the store where he'd left Katrina and her mother. Though the group was battered and bruised it seemed that everyone had survived; everyone except the young Mahnkii nobleman who went by the name of Aabinus.
Davu lifted Yahri onto his horse, then mounted Sa'vaad. The ride back to the Keep was slow, and silent. Sa'vaad had the slightest hint of a limp. Davu's mind wandered to the family of the Mahnkii nobleman he'd murdered and what the fallout would be from his actions. He thought of the young girl Katrina, and wondered at the true purpose of her father's "night way" tunnel. It was not the way he'd have chosen to start to the "reign" of the new ruling council, such as it was. But those were problems for another day.

To Be Continued...

Show spoiler

Situation: Learn Blood
DP: Swift Horse, Face Danger +edge

4/9/0-M

Pay the Price: Sa'vaad injured
DP: Swift Horse, Face Danger +edge

5/3/8-W

-1 Momentum

Crowd: Agitated
DP: Face Danger (Flames) +heart

5/2/5 - W

-1H

DP: Resist harm

6/6/10-M

Additional -2M

YN: Courtier 2: Secure an Advantage (+wits)

6/6/7-M

PtP: -1M

YN: Diplomat. Enter the Fray (+wits).

8/1/5-S

+2M.

In control.

DP: Face Danager (+iron)

7/5/7-W

-1Sp

DP: Endure Stress

3/4/6-M

-1Sp

YN: Diplomat. Gain ground +heart.

7/1/6-S

Mark progress

+2M

DP: Face Danger (+iron)

4/2/5-W

-1M

DP: Compel (+iron)

9/7/5-S

+1M

DP: Secure an Advantage (+wits)

5/4/4- Crit S

+2M / +1 next move

YN: Diplomat. Gain ground +heart.

6/8/6-M

Alternate approach

6/7/10-M

Dire complication

YN: Endure Stress

5/8/8-Crit M

-1Sp

-1H

-2M

Location: Pawnshop DP: Enter the Frey (+iron)

6/0/9-M

Bad spot

DP: React under fire (+iron)

6/1/4-S

In control +1M

DP: Duelist Display combat prowess Secure an advantage (+edge)

5/5/8- Reroll any

6/5/5 - Crit Hit!

+2M / +1 next move

DP: Gain Ground (+heart)

9/5/5 Crit Hit!

Mark progress

+1 next action

DP: Gain Ground (+iron)

10/8/6-S

Mark progress

+2M

Fullfill Your Vow

9/1/3 - S

Troublesome Quest 1 tick