The Lords of Farkash I

Noon of the 2^nd Armsday of Sprouts

You hear the anxious whinnying of horses and a moaning from the tower where injured defenders have been abandoned by their comrades. The Kranach spearmen have surrounded their Urban and Barowian counterparts and Sir Vladislav stands them, head bowed and mumbling to himself: an old man, frail and lost. The Crownland mercenaries regard him with pity and some eye their guards with probing eyes. Zoltan commands his troops to bind them and lead them to the dungeon, while Captain Hiroshka orders her soldiers to man the towers and treat the wounded.

Later, you meet in the Great Hall. The reliquaries lie in the shadows of their alcoves, the candles unlit, and the grey light of a foggy spring day shines through the stained-glass windows. Lady Alina has personally served bread and wine. She stands at the entrance to the hall awaiting your orders, her wrinkled face devoid of expression.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake looks at his brothers, and at Avert sitting in an alcove, fidgeting with his cloak. "My brothers, I have a duty whose call grows only ever louder. Come the morrow, I I will make my family whole again." He smiles with profound sadness. "Painful as they were, it is still mere months for me. For Avert... and for dear Inga... I must tarry no longer. At first light, I must ride."

His limbs heavy with the fatigue of battle, he sits heavily back in his seat. "But for now, we must pick up the thrice-broken pieces of Barowia, and do what we can. Much has changed in Farkash in our absence." Perilake beckons Alina forwards. "What has become of the people of Oakfell, who we invited into these halls? To the merchants who once made this place thrive? And what of you, Alina?"

Referee

Alina comes forward. The sharp strike of her simple wooden cane echoes through the hall. She stands tall and proud, unbothered by the awkward circumstances and despite her advanced age. “Sir Svatoslav decided that the Citadel couldn't afford to support them any more. Eliska agreed. They left for the woods to the east to work as woodsmen. Some of them ...” she bites her lips but then adds. “Some of them, might have joined the Militia of the Axe … mylord.”

“The merchant guild still trades their wares on the market. You might want to ask Lady Jitka for the state of our coffers.”

Courtiers rallying behind their former ruler

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Sunk into a chair, feeling exhausted by the metamorphosis and the fight, the Dove Knight stares coldly at the old courtiers of Farkash. His eyes black and motionless, like those of a bird that waits for its prey. At Perilake’s words of a family whole again, he comes back to himself and nods, speaking softly: “Lady Inga awaits you both, we won’t keep you away any longer my dear brother.” He then turns to Alina, Jitka, and Vojtech. “Twenty years have passed, and things larger than yours have been in motion against the good of the realm, so perhaps we shouldn’t hold it against you… But what have you done in our absence, to let the market rot and Oakfell fall? You that had kin here ruling our castle, or that have seen your castle usurped, or your lands pillaged?”

Referee

Voijtech smiles and clears his throat to speak but Jitka cuts him off. “My family's crest is the lock and the quill for we have long been in service of the Realm, as Stewards and Sheriffs, as Retainers and Courtiers. But we never ruled our own domain. When the King saw Farkash without rulers he finally granted us the holding we deserve.” Next to the imposing figure of Lady Alina, she looks even smaller - but no less proud. “It is true that the Citadel hasn't prospered in your absence. But other holdings faired worse than ours. Trade can't flourish in times of war as history has proven time and time again and at least our people don't have to starve.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz leans tall and strong against a wall. If the battle has taxed him, he makes no indication of it. "We must thank Urban the vassals did not have to sacrifice the way Karpat's have done. But a swift end to this war will be a boon to all."  

Referee

Jitka nods, relieved that the Salt Knight confirmed her words, and turns to Sir Heldris again. Vojtech uses his opportunity to step forward. “Mylord, we have done everything we could to keep the spirit of Farkash alive. We even had a small farewell feast when Elisa and the woodsmen left.” Although a mature man now, his face is still open and youthful. Avert, who is standing behind the throne, looks at the Waldochian curiously. While he seemed uninterested in the fighting, he has come alive in the more familiar circumstances of the Court and pays close attention. Captain Hiroshka has entered the hall and approaches the Salt Knight. She leans in and whispers, “Sir, when we rounded up the mercenaries and brought them to their cells... the King's brother was taken with them.” She weighs her words carefully. “It seems… inappropriate to treat him like a simple soldier.”  

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris listens attentively to his old courtiers. The rage of the river flows threateningly before his eyes, but he cannot bring himself to punish these people, who seem to have done what they could to survive in times of war. “Thank you, my old friends, for your honest answers. No one holds you accountable for the misfortune that has befallen this castle, as well as Urban or any other family who did what they could to protect their own.” He watches them intently, as he fights the pain in his tired body and the storm in his cursed mind. “If you still welcome the rightful rulers of Farkash, it'll bring me joy to have you again at our side, and we’ll reconvene later about the state of the holding, and what we can do to set things right. If you don’t, consider yourselves free, and have my blessing and wishes of good fortune, elsewhere.” 

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight turns to Hiroshka and gently says, "The finest empty room is his. Make it up for him, and tell him to send for me once he is comfortable."

Referee

Hiroshka salutes and leaves at once. Sir Svatoslav, who has been hiding among the courtiers, steps forward and bows. His face is pale, and he wears the traditional white blouse and black waistcoat of the south. "I thank the Dove Knight for his mercy," he says. With a warm timbre and without raising his voice, his words carry to the farthest corner of the Grand Hall. "It pains me to leave the holding I served for a decade, but my loyalty to the King demands it." He then turns to the other Courtiers. "You need to decide for yourselves whether to leave with me or to stay." His face is flushed now, and you can feel the suppressed anger in his melodic voice. "But unless the Citadel pledges loyalty to the rightful ruler of Barowia, I must consider you - traitors!" 

Hushed murmurings can be heard and the Courtiers exchange anxious glances. The ancient Lady Landrada whispers something in Jitka's ear. Half a dozen minor nobles rally behind their former ruler.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris listens quietly to Sir Svatoslav’s speech. When the nobleman falls silent, the Dove Knight stares at him coldly, his eyes still, like those of a hawk. “I wasn’t talking to you, Sir Svatoslav of Urban!” he says, raising his voice at every syllable, until the man’s name echoes throughout the hall. He stands up, wearily, and walks to him. “If you think you can run to your belligerent king and call us traitors, you are very much mistaken!” He gestures to Farkash soldiers to take hold of him. “Lock him in his chamber, we’ll soon judge if he deserves the same mercy he so quickly refuses his former courtiers.”

Referee

Sir Svatoslav is dragged away by the guards struggling in their grip and shouting to be released. The Courtiers who have come forward to support him scurry back to their peers who murmur excitingly about the former ruler's downfall when Zofia raises her voice: “All hail the Company of the Black Fleece, all hail the rulers of Farkash” and the noble men and women kneel. Even Lady Landrada the Envoy under Urban's rule is helped by Jitka to bend her creaking knees but she shrugs her off and hides her face under a black veil.

When finally the Court is dismissed and only Jitka stays behind to await your orders, Hiroshka returns. As the grey spring day turns dark, servants start to light the candles in the alcoves “Milords” the captain announces, “Sir Vladislav has been relocated to his chambers.” “I have made sure that he is treated respectfully.” she adds turning to the Salt Knight. “The Banner Knight would like to have a word with you … for old friendship's sake, he said.”  

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Perilake spends an evening looking out from the balcony of his old room, where once he and Inga shared laughter and hope. Their belongings have long been removed, replaced by those of a stranger. And stranger still looks the place he called home. No longer does it ring with the busy merriment he remembers; a memory that is for the Black Fleece, mere months past. Yet so long for those who reside here. Once more he feels the world shift uneasily beneath him at how the river of time has been so thoroughly broken. That young Vojtech, once a callow youth among the Fox Knight's fancies, is of an age with the Gilded Knight. And that those who were once his peers now stand old... as must surely his wife. He thinks not of her beauty or her grace, but of the years of loneliness she must have faced without him. The only solace he has is that his son shares the room with him once more. That his family will be reunited. Such a thought is enough, even as the challenge of reuniting the realm itself hangs heavy upon him. "In the morning, yes Father? We will see mother, and we will bring her back to the court." Avert says from the room, his eyes glittering in the candlelight over his gathered scrolls and books. Perilake smiles sadly, and nods. "In the morning, my son. We will see Inga. And then..." He trails off, his heart heavy. "And then we will be a family once more, and we will decide." Avert eyes narrow, and Perilake nods. "Your mother and I, and you. Together, we will decide."  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

As the last trickles of the sun's blood vanish from the horizon, the Salt Knight carries a pitcher of wine to Sir Vladislav's quarters. He wears no arms or armor. He enters the Banner Knight's chambers and pours two goblets full, offering one to Vladislav. "This batch of grapes was harvested the year we left Farkash, and now it is a rare vintage. Have you, too, sweetened with age, or become more sour?"

Sir Vladislav questioning his life choices

Referee

Sir Vlad raises his cup with a shaky hand, spilling wine onto the rug in front of the hearth. “I have turned to vinegar,” he snarls. Lingering pain has carved deep lines around his eyes. He stares vacantly at the stains on the rug before leaning back heavily in his chair and downing the rest of his drink. He looks down at his trembling, liver-spotted hands. “When I was young, I wrestled bears. Now, I can’t even hold a cup.” He looks up, his watery eyes meeting yours. “What will they say about Barow’s rule over the Realm? Was it just? Did we bring peace?”   

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

"For a time. Had we remained here all those years, we might have helped you. But the needs of a father are sometimes more important than needs of a king. In the blink of an eye, all that was once strong became feeble, including your brother's rule. Perhaps it is time for a change."

Referee

“Perhaps – but Andrasz won't go down without a fight … and he has support from the North: Two warbands of veterans who have been fighting all their lives - not to mention the army he can muster anyway. Even the combined forces of Masur and Kranach won't beat them easily … if at all!” Vladislav stares at the red stain on the rug again. “More violence, more blood. Is that what you want?”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz sighs. "Masur and Kranach were defeated once before, and look at them now. Andrasz chained the wolf, but could not tame it. To win the war, he must make this realm a ruin. Only then will you have your peace."

Referee

Vladislav rubs his temples with trembling hands, eyes closed and he is silent for a while. “It was a mistake to come to this Realm.” he finally says. “It was a mistake to leave our home. All I wanted is to hunt and to enjoy life and now … now I am an old man and I will be buried on foreign soil … “ He shakes his head. “All you can wish for in life is to keep peace for a while until the cycle of violence begins anew.” He opens his eyes again. “March on Castle Barow and you will be responsible for the death of hundreds of men and women - and for what? A dream! There will never be a lasting peace, Anastasz.”

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz seems to ponder the knight's words and rises to the room's window. He looks out, hands clasped behind his back, and says, "My brothers seem to think a legend will unite the people. Perhaps they're right; perhaps they're wrong. But Barow's time has passed..." He turns back to Vladislav, smiling sadly. "After all this, I still respect Andrasz. Return to the Crownlands with whatever men you can muster and whatever wealth you can carry, and I will ensure there are no reprisals. Tell your brother we can end this suffering."

Referee

“I still remember the grove on the night after our bout. The stars above us ... I was happy then … happy that I was alive. Happy to have met a worthy opponent.” Vladislav gives you a sad toothless smile. “I will talk to my brother. He will call me a fool and a traitor … but I will try.” “And if he declines ...” His smile broadens “ … I hope the two of us will meet on the battlefield and that I will die in the saddle and not in a bed.” He laboriously gets up and extends his hand.  

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight pulls the old man into a hug. "For my sake, I hope to stay far away from that hammer." 

~*~

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris sits before the fire in Anastaz’s chambers, and tells the Salt Knight of his debt with the River and how it came to be. “I thought it’d be easy to sacrifice an enemy for the good of the Realm,” says the Dove Knight in a whisper, “but even before such a detestable man as Sir Svatoslav, I struggle to bring myself to act.” He pokes the fire slowly, pensively. “I would gladly pay the toll myself, but to think of my daughter losing her father again and, perhaps sinning of arrogance, of me quitting so early this quest to bring the Realm together…” He sighs, "I fear, one way or the other, my spirit is lost."

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz places an arm on Heldris's shoulder. "And if the river chooses to wreak vengeance, how many children will lose their parents? These forces are not to be trifled with. The life of one old man is of little consequence in comparison."

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

Heldris nods, looking up from the fire. "You're right, ad always. The River has taken its course and cannot be changed now." He stands up and, without the need of saying more, he makes his way towards Sir Svatoslav chamber.

Referee

When you reach the corridor that leads to Sir Svatoslav chamber you see in the torchlight Lady Landrada and a servant being turned away by the two guards posted in front of his door. Landrada looks furious as she slowly shuffles away. “Ungrateful peasants” she curses. The gurads stand in attention and open the door for you.

Svatoslav is pacing in front of the window and when you enter he turns with a smile that falters as he recognizes you. “I was hoping ...” he forces himself to smile. “... to speak to your Envoy … but I'm honoured that you came to see me.”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight dismisses the guards from their posting, and enters the nobleman’s chamber. “I’m not sure what business you’d have with my envoy, but it is time for you to be judged.” He tells Sir Svatoslav calmly, without anger in his voice. “Will you please follow me? We have a long way to go.” 

Referee

Sir Svatoslav looks surprised. “Now? A long walk?" He puts a coat around his shoulders and follows you.”I am prepared to defend myself and stand trial for whatever crimes I am accused of.” he says with a firm voice but when he sees the Salt Knight waiting at the door, he pales and takes a step back. “What am I accused of?”

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

"If you ask me, of the crime that far too many people have committed these last twenty years... acting against peace and the good of the Realm." The Dove Knight's tone is still calm and almost reassuring. "But it will not be on us to find you tarnished or free of sin. The River will be your judge, and its wrath may be appeased" He gestures Sir Svatoslav towards the door.

Referee

He looks scared now and hesitates to cross the threshold but under the Salt Knight's steely gaze he doesn't dare to resist. His shoulders slump and with a sigh he leaves the room. At the gate the guards hand you lanterns. When you reach the deserted market Sir Svatoslav stops at the bas relief of the merchant guild and starts to beg. “Please, Sir Heldris! I have done nothing wrong.” He holds on to the sign with both hands and drops to his knees. “What am I accused of? I followed the King's orders just like you. Please, have mercy!” The families of the small harbour town must have returned after the siege as you hear doors opening and see candles being lit but nobody steps out and Sir Svatoslav's pleas fade away in the thickening mist.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

The Dove Knight stands still for a moment, he puts a hand on the nobleman's shoulder. “I'm truly sorry, Sir Svatoslav. But if you think yourself virtuous, you will walk with us to the water and will either be spared by the River, or redeem yourself with a last worthy deed: appeasing its fury." He gestures the nobleman to stand up.

Referee

“I'm not virtuous! I am a coward!” He shakes his head violently and hugs the sign like a toddler hugging the leg of his mother.”Why am I be judged and not you?" he cries. "You abandoned your duty! Somebody has to rule and it was me. Why am I punished for doing my duty?” His eyes are closed and there are tears running down his pale cheeks.

Sir Heldris, The Dove Knight

As he watches the man whining and clinging to the signpost, a wolfish growl rises within the Dove Knight. He grabs the nobleman by the neck and drags him towards the shore, his voice a snarl: “You profited by our misfortune, Sir Svatoslav, now face the consequences, face them as a coward if you so wish.” When they reach the shore he drags him a few paces into the water and stops, he turns the nobleman to face him and all that Sir Svatoslav can see are hound-like eyes shining red in the dark night. “Have it your way,” Heldris pushes the nobleman under the surface and struggles to keep him there. “Wrathful River,” he whispers in a growl, almost inaudible to the Salt Knight on shore, “here I pay my awful debt, and a sinful man I plunge into these waters, wet by your everflowing stream.”

A Sinful Man

Referee

Sir Svatoslav stares at you from under the water with utter terror in his eyes, bubbles streaming from his mouth in unheard screams and only the roaring of the river in your ears – eager to consume and pleased with the sacrifice - and as the drowning man's struggle weakens, you see possible futures for the river in the rising air bubbles, futures from which the Realm is spared: fishers returning with empty nets; a growing lake where the Fortress once stood; and a river, swollen and angry, sweeping away huts and cattle, and the corpses of Kozamost washed ashore in Farkash's harbour. For a moment a dark triumph washes over you. You lift your head and howl, and over the roaring of the river, you hear the beating of the bard's drum—the bard whose life you took in anger.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

A pale lantern glows in the mist as the Salt Knight watches stonily. As Sir Heldris returns to the shore, Anastaz holds out a cloth for the Dove Knight to wipe the water from his hands.