>>4726209
“My Jarls and Theign; I have called you here for one single reason. Some of you may suspect what is happening, others, you already know. A hidden enemy, of unknown power and strength, has attacked me, in my very throne room. Some of you are missing; they will be brought to accounts. Regardless of their absence, we will now chart the course of this kingdom here, in the coming days. And until this is done-” You hold up a fist, to communicate authority, “none of us will leave Castle Hohenwald.”

This sets them to muttering. Good. Have them worry about their lands and investments- that will get them thinking about what really matters to them, and how to protect it. If there’s anything you can count on, it’s the inherent self-interest in low nobles. Tapping your throne’s armrest for a few seconds, you let them mutter a bit longer- it is what they’re good at, after all. After a while, though, the whispering grates on you, and you hold your hand up again, silencing them.

“I am of a mind to take immediate action- though the Moot might be tradition, it could be days, or even weeks, before we come to a course of action. So I urge, well, urgency.” You give the smallest of smirks at your jest. It might not be the time for such japery, but, well, you’re old. You’re allowed to be inappropriate. Lowering your hand, you nod at the surrounding nobles. “And with that, I open the floor to discussion- though one at a time, please, we don’t need a repeat of the Moot of two summers back.” There was a shouting match between the Theigns of Flächland and Moorstein that lasted a whole five hours- from midday to the Eleventh Notch on the sundial. Not illegal, especially since you had opened the floor to discussion, but very, very annoying.

The first to speak up, perhaps unsurprisingly, is Jarl Schulz Scholzlang, ruler of Moorstein. The somewhat corpulent man is almost entirely self-interested, if not wholly unreasonable. You find that it just takes a bit of cajoling to convince him to your side. From his prominent position at the table, he lounges in his chair, stroking his thin, wispy beard. “I do not think,” he speaks carefully, “that such urgency from every Jarl and Theign is necessary, My Lord, when considering that we are dealing with something wholly unknown. Surely, the Volkjaeger and whatever agencies you have in place are enough?” He gives a winning smile, as if to say, ‘I trust in my overlord completely,’ though you know, likely as not, he just doesn’t want to agitate the serfs and Theign with the ‘Blood Tithe’- given that he levies an already exorbitant triple tithe on his former business rivals, the wartime double tithe would make it easier for said rivals to push the serfs into outright rebellion. Which isn’t exactly hard, in Moorstein.

(Cont.)

>>4726213
Hellmann- ah, right, think of him as the Jarl Liebrecht, during the Moot, speaks from his place across from Jarl Scholzlang. “While our liege might still be the King of Wolves yet- he didn’t overthrow the old tyrant to fight alone against assassins and conspirators- I say we cooperate with whatever My Lord has in mind.” Hellman nods at you, letting you know he supports you, come what may.

Snorting, Jarl Scholzlang ‘whispers,’ loud enough for you to hear from your throne, “Of course you would, Hellmann. Your daughter’s set to have the Silver Throne in a couple years.” It would be near-treasonous talk- coming from anyone else. Schulz isn’t exactly used to the customs of the court, and respect. It still manages to get under Hellmann’s skin, of course, who turns as red as a beet, and is about to condemn him, when a Theign- one of yours- speaks up, interrupting the inevitable shouting match.

“My Lords, if I may-” You nod at him, granting him the right of speech. It is an assembly, after all. “Many of my peers and I have been discussing this since we have arrived, but-” He looks supremely uncomfortable. “What, exactly, are we facing? You speak of assassins, conspiracy, and rebellion, but why is this beyond the pale, requiring a Moot? We have our hypotheses, but they are just that- hypothetical.” He bows his head in deference. “Might we know, in detail, what My Lord does, about the conspiracy, so we might treat it with the seriousness it deserves?”

>A reasonable request, grant it. Tell the lords assembled here what you know thus far, and the assassin in your very throne room.
>You will continue to keep the cards close to your chest- you know not if any of the Theign or citylords are compromised.
>Tell a half-truth- that the assassin was a Druid. Religious rebellion is always a great motivation to rally the commonfolk of this and any nation to arms.

>>4726215
>>Tell a half-truth- that the assassin was a Druid. Religious rebellion is always a great motivation to rally the commonfolk of this and any nation to arms.

>>4726215
>A reasonable request, grant it. Tell the lords assembled here what you know thus far, and the assassin in your very throne room.

Disdain the middle voter and the shadowrunner.

Really though, we need to get a clear message across. If we just let them freak out and come to their own conclusions it's going to make them easier to play against us.

>>4726215
>A reasonable request, grant it. Tell the lords assembled here what you know thus far, and the assassin in your very throne room.

>>4726266
>>4726270
>A reasonable request, grant it. Tell the lords assembled here what you know thus far, and the assassin in your very throne room.
Wins the vote. Writing!

>>4726215
>A reasonable request, grant it. Tell the lords assembled here what you know thus far, and the assassin in your very throne room.

“Very well. Listen close, all, and listen well, for I shall only say this once.” You nod at Franz. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Commander.” Sitting up and leaning forward in your chair, you steeple your fingers, scanning your audience. "The plot began with a rather amateurish scheme- the plotters had convinced a young, foolish associate of my son’s- a Röbestock, I believe, to steal the Royal Seal, in an attempt to destabilize the court, and distract from what they did next.” You pause, gauging the mood in the room.

Your Theign seem almost universally outraged, while Hellmanns’ and Schulz’ seem disturbed, if not quite as angry. As for your two Jarls, well, Hellmann is clearly still bothered, but the rage had burnt itself out long ago, while Schulz, as always, is inscrutable to you. “After their first plot was found out, almost immediately, they took more direct action, which some of you might have a vague idea of. However-” You raise a withered finger for emphasis. “The assassin was no mere man, shrouded in a black cloak and an air of mystery- he had powers like that of the Druids, and wore the Woad on his skin.”

This sets them to muttering. Good. Let them think- let the thought ferment in their minds, maybe they’ll come up with an idea that you haven’t yet. “My servants and own sons are investigating this, but thus far, we only have evidence of a mystery cult having existed somewhere in Hochland, at some point.” It need not be said how vague and unspecific that information is, until recently, every village and town had their own rites to worship the gods and spirits, let alone mystery cults, as the keeper of those rites.

As they mutter some more, discussing the matter amongst themselves, you lean back, stroking your beard. This predicament seems a bit too advantageous for many people. You, the King of Wolves, are an aging old hound in his twilight years- It’s only natural that the conspirators would come out to play. The only question is which conspirators these are. There have been many through the years, and many more whom would benefit from a succession crisis in Hochland.

Pzyczia comes to mind, first. Those coastal raider savages have long troubled the people of the hills, ever since they came from across the sea. You can think of countless ways that a crisis in Hochland could benefit the cossack king-worshippers. Luckily, the only inroad from the coastal lowlands is heavily fortified, so even if the entire nation is busy burning itself to the ground, they will find no purchase there.

(cont.)

>>4727802
If not Pzyczia, then whom? The Empire of Isaria, those foppish wastrels, who fritter away their gold on endless palaces and parades, would not benefit much from breaking their mutually beneficial trade arrangement. Unless, of course, they had designs on the highlands, in which case, elevating the chaos to outright war would be simple. But this is unlikely, the current Empress sent her own daughter to you as one of your consorts, an, ah… Ah! Ekaterine, that is her name. You have no daughters or sons by her, you’re too old for that sort of thing now. You wonder how she’s holding up in the Moon Hall. And there you go, doing it again, thinking about anything and everything. You should focus.

The Ravomsk people are too beaten down to rebel in this way, and the free city of Faronkratzk wouldn’t tempt fate in such a dangerous manner. Lenigaites, though, those inbred rape-children of Pzyczia, would. In some ways, they’re even worse than their cousins, the cossacks. Headhunters and slavers all, they prey on the Ravomsk people, and your own, if they somehow find their way south through the great forests of the north. Though… as eager as you are to pin this on them, and claim retribution, you do know that Pzyczians and Lenigaitians are hardly capable of “subtlety” or planning.

Regardless of the ultimate enemy, you have thought on this long enough, and you are ready to hear your Jarls, Theign, and Citylord’s opinions, the better to make your choice with, and lend an air of dignitas to the decision. Holding up a hand, you point at your Jarls with the other, and say, “Jarl Liebrecht. Jarl Scholzlang. I wish to hear your thoughts.”

Looking at each other, your old friend nods at you. “Whatever course My Lord takes, I shall endorse, and carry out in mine own lands to the best of my ability. Though…” He does look a bit concerned about saying this next bit. “I do have some ideas on how to better our ability to respond to such situations-” He pauses, speaking carefully. “Though those can wait, until my fellow Jarl speaks his piece.”

Nodding at Hellmann, Schulz speaks up, in a lazy tone, leaning back in his chair, to the best of the poor wood’s ability. “Why would we, the lords of the land, need to take care of something within our eminent liege’s personal land? I have heard nothing of conspiracy, of rebellion in mine own lands. This sounds like a problem for Hohenwald, and His Majesty to deal with.” He gives a winning smile. “I have utter trust that he will cut the knot of this tangle posthaste, of course.” Hellmann seems about ready to speak up, angry, calling it treasonous, but one of your citylords shouts from his spot at the table.

(Cont.)

>>4727804
“My Jarl, what affects the King affects us all! Especially those of us whose entire estate is built upon burghers and freedmen, whom pay their tithe in gold.” He gestures towards the citylords of Moorstein and Flächland alike. “Need I remind you what rebellion and dissent does to trade?” He points to you. “And that’s not even taking their powers into consideration!” Slamming a fist on the roundtable, he smooths his hair back. “I suggest a harsh response, intruding into every serf and yeoman’s house, interrogating thralls, perhaps even purges, if the population is recalcitrant. The short-term damage would be costly, yes, but we would nip this conflict in the bud, and get back to our normal course wherever our eminent liege would take us.”

This sets the lower lords to arguing, again, while you think it over. While you trust Hellmann implicitly, you cannot deny the efficacy of such violent tactics as the citylord describes. Throughout Hochlander history, rebellions have been quashed by a judicious application of force. Though, you think, it would be a shame to end out your life with such a legacy. Perhaps it’s poetic- as much as you did with your life, you weren’t any different from the kings and princes of old. You just hope your children can do better with the kingdom you leave behind. If there is a kingdom at the end of this.

Regardless, you have observed the necessary traditions regarding the Moot, and allowed your lords, or at least, the most outspoken amongst them, to say their piece. Now it is up to you, the final word to all law and power in Hochland, to make your choice.

>Smash down doors, interrogate everyone, jail those who resist. You need the plot gone, now, and you need to be sure they didn’t take root ANYWHERE in your nation.
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.
>Make no decision at this time- call the Moot for the day, and decide another time. You have many things to consider before you make a choice.

>>4727806
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.

>>4727806
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.

>>4727806
>>Smash down doors, interrogate everyone, jail those who resist. You need the plot gone, now, and you need to be sure they didn’t take root ANYWHERE in your nation.

>>4727806
>Smash down doors, interrogate everyone, jail those who resist. You need the plot gone, now, and you need to be sure they didn’t take root ANYWHERE in your nation.

>>4727806
>>Smash down doors, interrogate everyone, jail those who resist. You need the plot gone, now, and you need to be sure they didn’t take root ANYWHERE in your nation.

>>4727806
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.

>>4727806
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.

>>4727823
>>4727826
>>4727870
>>4727878
>Inquire after Hellmann’s plan. He hasn’t steered you wrong before, and perhaps his plan would be a more moderate path forward, so you don’t have to brutalize your citizenry.
Writing!

>>4727806
Stroking your beard, you hold up a hand to placate the agitated lower lords, and look at Hellmann’s plan, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Jarl Liebrecht. I would know what your plan might be.” You lean back in your throne, relaxing somewhat. “Despite everything, I’d rather we not go straight to tearing my country to shreds, again.” The rampant violence, paranoia, and miasma of bloody misery that hung over Hochland during your (just but admittedly chaotic) rebellion is something no one- not even the most cocksure and bloodthirsty lord- wants a repeat performance of.

Hellmann nods. “Well…” Looking around the room himself, he speaks carefully- is it that bad? “I, first, would draw up a list, or charter, of emergency powers that the lords of the realm are allowed to take, during a crisis such as this, or wartime.” A deep breath. “And I would require the lords of the realm to report back constantly on their progress, instead of calling a Moot every time we need to do something.” Muttering amongst the lords. This isn’t a popular thought, though they aren’t outright raging against it. “Also…” Hell seems exceptionally hesitant to speak his mind next. “I would have Theign and Citylords answer directly to their Jarls and King during crises, and follow their orders on what to do.” Ah, there it is, the uproar. And now you know what his hesitation was about.

Traditionally, the lords of the High Hills have been independent- it’s only recently that Hochland was unified. In part because of your predecessor, in part due to your efforts in unifying the lords of the forested highlands under one banner- yours. However, even under your predecessor’s- and your- own rule, the feudal system is fairly laissez-faire, to use the Isarian phrase for it- hands-off. Theoretically, the only obligation your lords have to you is to provide tithe yearly, and to follow your commands, when joined to your Banner in war. In turn, they get many privileges- including the right to counsel, thus, the Moot.

However, as king, you have a spiritual duty to Arbitration, as set forth by Erkirr, god of Truth. When you invoke it- (which is fairly often, given how many petitioners you normally have,) all parties, including those Druids who officiate every Petition, judging, or mediation, are legally, and required, to accept it as religious law. So, it’s not as if Hellmann’s idea has no precedent for the kingship of Hochland to follow. It’d just be wildly unpopular with those randier lords of the realm is all. So you’d have to find a way to stave them off, afterward. Or, alternatively, just bring the power in the realm closer to the throne, and crush everyone who dissents. That is always an option, though, the historians might look at you unfavorably. You know you’re halfway to a tyrant in many peoples’ books already, what’s a few steps more?

(Cont.)

>>4729622
As you contemplate this, the shouting has returned, escalating from mere muttering and the occasional grumble. Surprising you the most, though, is the fact that not every lord hates the idea, and in fact, are arguing with the council of their peers in favor of it. Most are your own Theign or citylords, and Hell’s, of course, but you expected a unilateral rejection. Well, if there’s this many in favor, or at the very least, ambivalent, you can push this through. Holding up a hand, it takes a few long minutes for everyone to calm down, and notice that you are silencing them.

“An interesting proposal, Jarl Liebrecht- This Moot now has a goal to work towards.” Looking over your vassals, you nod. “From now, until the end of the Moot, we shall work on drafting the necessary documents to enshrine this in law, up in the Godswood, with the commandments of Erkirr.”

To say that this causes pandemonium is not quite right- most people take it well. However, a good number of lower lords begin caterwauling, crying, “My Lord, surely you can’t-” “You can’t seriously-” and such. One takes the prize, though, for most outrage. He’s some Theign, red from anger and ginger mutton chops, and he strides to the floor, apoplectic.

“So is this what we Theign are, now? Mere mayors, or tenants, to order around, in your personal domain?” You consider him. You’re half-tempted to give him a blunt ‘yes’ to shut him up, but plenty of other Theign and Citylords are still worried that you’re about to infringe upon their rights. Which, you suppose, you might be. But it sure beats breaking the peace you fought so hard for, and once again spilling Hochlander blood.

>”You will still retain your land rights, and martial honors. I’m not here to destroy the nation I helped build.”
>”Get a hold of yourself. You act like this is the end of the world. I shall not see Hochland destroyed to assuage your pride.
>”Franz, eject the dear lord from the Moot. If a member of the axe-bearing caste seeks to act out like a child, treat him like such.”
>”What is this really about, and what house are you from?”
>"This is happening, whether you like it or not. You can either help decide the terms, or leave." And be considered a traitor, you think.

>>4729623
>"What is this really about, and what house are you from?”

>>4729623
>>”What is this really about, and what house are you from?”

>>4729623
>>”Get a hold of yourself. You act like this is the end of the world. I shall not see Hochland destroyed to assuage your pride.
>>”What is this really about, and what house are you from?”

>>4729627
>>4729630
>>4729637
>”What is this really about, and what house are you from?”
Writing!

>>4729623
>”What is this really about, and what house are you from?”

“What is this really about, and what house are you from?” Your words cut right to the heart of the matter. Even those other Theign who seem utterly outraged at this concept are not acting out in this way. It is… intriguing, to say the very least. You would be more furious, but the sheer audacity of this man keeps you from hating him too much.

Red-faced, the man wheels on you from across the room, pointing at you from the opposite end of the throne room. “I am Grand Theign Vondt Röbestock, and I shall not be mocked!” (Grand Theign? That is not a title held by anyone in Hochland since before the unification.) He spins around, clenching his fists. “From this day forth, the Röbestock clan will no longer grace these halls with our presence, nor shall we attend any further Moots.” He makes to leave, but two ironclad Volkjaeger cross their axes across the door. Did he really think that they would let him leave?

“That still does not answer my question, child.” You call him what he is, which only infuriates him more. “Why are you acting out this much? To inspire your fellow Theign to do the same? To simply get out of being in the Moot at this time?” You lean your face on your hand, staring at him all the while. “This pitiful… act cannot come as some impetuous flight of fancy, correct?” Your eyes, steely and focused, bore into him. The entire Moot holds its breath, as you continue. “Because if it were, I would be required, by virtue of the holy duty vested in me, to have one of those charming gentlemen with the long axes kill you where you stand. Surely this cannot be it. There must be some other reason that you bait Erkirr and Korill in a king’s throne room.”

(cont.)

>>4734907
The man withers under your assault, looking around the room for allies, finding none. Then he looks at the Volkjaeger, and, finding no mercy in their full-face masks, back to you, now much more contrite and humbled. “I suppose-” He chokes on his words, seems that the lad’s not used to eating humble pie. Just what are those Röbestocks teaching their children, over there at the border? You might have to ask Hell to replace them. “I am simply angered, My Lord-” heh. Back to calling you his lord again. “Because these demands are unreasonable, and you have not yet released my idiot brother to us.” Hm. This is an exceptionally bone-headed reason for such outbursts, though you suppose you understand. Blood is thicker, and all that.

Rolling your eyes, you wave your hand dismissively at the man. “Stand once more with your peers- you can petition for your brother’s release tomorrow.” You are being incredibly lenient, as normally, disrespecting the Moot would be a fine, at least. The Moot continues, lasting for the rest of the day, as Theigns and citylords continue to raise their concerns, moderated by their Jarls.

The Röbestock leaves in the night, with several other lords. Volkjaeger and Ravens alike are sent out, to catch them, but to no avail. They declare secession from the kingdom the day they get back to their lands- and the grand city of Grazt, the easternmost city in Hochland, occupied by their armies.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You later learn, from Johann, that the God-King of Pzyczia, in his infinite wisdom, has declared the new so-called “Röbestock Jarldom” a client state of the Grand Duchy, with all the protections that it entails. You send a messenger to order the border raiders to stand down, and let you deal with the rebellion within your borders as you see fit.

They send his head, and the heads of his escort, back in a box. You order all Pzyczians within your border expelled, and the border closed- though without Grazt, and the Röbestock borderlands, it is now [i]much[/i] more difficult to keep the cossacks from raiding about the countryside. The Moot ended a while back, and you came to a definite conclusion- Hellmann’s plan would be followed, though there was much grumbling amongst the Theigns.

You consider your position. Currently, you have ten banners of Volkjaeger stationed in Castle Hohenwald- a thousand men, clad in heavy iron, wielding long-axes, the traditional weapon of Hochland. You could go to Grazt with them, and crush all opposition. A thousand men taking a city is nothing to you- you retook Castle Hohenwald with fewer. However, you don’t know if they’ll receive aid by those cossack horse-lovers by the time you arrive, and getting caught out on the low hills by light cavalry would be disastrous.

(Cont.)

>>4734909

There is also the danger of this secession inspiring more- those men of low character, or self-interested lords breaking off, bits and pieces, all across the kingdom. Sure, you can suppress any rebellions as they come, as you plan to do so here. However, you would very much prefer it if you had something to squash the Theign’s concerns- and keep the expanded authority that you just gained. Perhaps you can do something to that effect.

You also know little to nothing about the situation, beyond what Johann told you earlier, likely due to his focus being on the mysterious assailants. Perhaps you can insert spies into Grazt, as you raise the fyrd, and the banners of your Theign.

>Crush the city of Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need no more, and the longer this rebellion goes on, the risks of further outside interference grow larger.
>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
-Send Klaus III to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. Klaus is the most responsible amongst his brothers- you can trust him.
-Send Albrecht to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. Albrecht is peaceable, yes, but he is also charming, and quick-witted. Perhaps he’ll surprise you.
-Send Otto (and Lena) to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. Otto is the quietest, and most timid of your children- but also the most intelligent.
-Send Wilhelm to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. He is the pre-eminent warrior amongst your children, and you have no doubts as to his victory.
>Send spies to Grazt, and raise the full power of the army, to crush this rebellion. You have time- it’s not as if wars were won in a day, after all.

>>4734910
>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
>-Send Wilhelm to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. He is the pre-eminent warrior amongst your children, and you have no doubts as to his victory.
What happened QM?

>>4734922
I was stuck at my grandparents, cleaning their house and yard. Grandpa can't lift more than 5 pounds, so I was really their only option.

>>4734910
>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
>-Send Wilhelm to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. He is the pre-eminent warrior amongst your children, and you have no doubts as to his victory.

>>4734910
>>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
>-Send Otto (and Lena) to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. Otto is the quietest, and most timid of your children- but also the most intelligent.

>>4734922
>>4734953
Writing, and sorry for the wait!

>>4734910
>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
>-Send Wilhelm to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. He is the pre-eminent warrior amongst your children, and you have no doubts as to his victory.

>>4734910

>Send one of your sons to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent.
-Send Klaus III to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. Klaus is the most responsible amongst his brothers- you can trust him.

>>4735485
My reasoning for Wilhelm is that he's the second-best warrior of our children, but he's also reliable and responsible, which we definitely need in a situation as delicate as this. Wilhelm may fly off the chain and do something rash.

>>4735721
...I'm not sure how many wires in my brain just crossed for that one. I MEANT to tag my own vote for Klaus III and make that argument for him. Instead I turned into a retard.

Send Klaus III with reinforcements in the form of more men-at-arms from Jarl Liebrecht to crush the rebellion; send the imprisoned Robëstock lad with them as a bargaining chip to be used as our son deems fit. This will be a good test to see if he is truly able to succeed us.

Do Druids have second-sight that would allow them to recognize others who possess magick, or know of any junctions of ley-lines where magick may be done in secret?

>>4735825
Just got done working, I'll answer your questions before posting.

There aren't many people capable of enacting the Gods' will on reality, and the primary way of recognizing a Druid is by the tattoos they all bear, which used to be whirling patterns of blue woad paint, but are now sets of runes, spelling out parables and Godly commands, on their very bodies. Typically, it takes a long time for a Druid (or group of Druids) to chant and sing the parables of the Gods, and call down their power. Think Glorantha dreamquests mixed with if a pastor quoting Exodus 22:18 was enough to kill a witch on the spot, or give a group of people's weapons an "anti-witch" aura. They can also pray to Erkirr, the God of Truth, to guide their search, and get divine guidance. So not exactly a second sight, but there are multiple ways to identify practitioners.

There are several holy places in Hochland, holy to both the nature spirits of the land, and the Gods. Found in the deep wilderness, the only one Klaus II (you) knows about is the one under Castle Hohenwald, that contains Wolf. No connection between such holy places has been found, given that each place belongs to a different God or spirit.

>>4734910
>Send Wilhelm to Grazt with the Volkjaeger- you need to focus on writing new laws to squash dissent. He is the pre-eminent warrior amongst your children, and you have no doubts as to his victory.

One day not long after you begin drafting up new laws to placate the lords of the realm, you call Wilhelm to your side. You are in your Cabinet, with Hellmann, Jarl Scholzlang,your sons, Klaus III, Otto, and your High Druid, Vlad. Your personal study is a bit cramped, but the chairs are more comfortable here than in the throne room, and there’s no need to use the Moot table after the majority of citylords and Theign have gone back to their domains, ready to guard and protect against conspiracy. Even if they whine like a bitch in spring while doing so.

Regardless of the Theign’s opinion of their new duties, your youngest son is here. You greet him with a smile, holding out your hand for him to take. “Ah, Wilhelm. Welcome.” You gesture to a seat that you had the servants bring in a few hours ago. “Take a seat, my boy, and let us talk.” Clasping your hand with both of his own, he smiles, nodding, blonde, almost white, with how blonde it is, hair shaking with the motion. “Tell me- before we get down to business, what are your thoughts on the recent Moot?” Gods know you’ve been through every avenue with Lords Reasonable over here- you’re treading water now.

His answer comes immediately, without hesitation. “I hope you have called me here to crush the rebellion, Father, from what my friends told me, such disrespect against you cannot stand!” He grins sharply, like a predator. “I have heard many stories of the Röbestock clan, and I should like to test my might against them!” Otto winces at the increase in volume from your loudest son, though the rest of your council for writing new laws take it in stride.

You chuckle, patting his hand. “Yes, my son, that is why I have called you here- very astute.” Though anyone who knows the royal family could have told you that. “I wish for you to take Franz, and the rest of the One Thousand (a colloquial name for the Volkjaeger) to Grazt, and retake the city by any means.” You pause, thinking over whom you’re telling this to. “Though I would prefer if there was a city remaining to base a border around.”

(Cont.)

>>4737032
Wilhelm laughs, standing again, and salutes you, bowing his head. “Of course, Father. I shall head out right away-” he looks to Vlad, who shrinks a little at your son’s rather intense gaze. “Might I have the assistance of a few of your faithful, High Druid?”

Coughing, Vladimir nods, brushing some of his hair back. “C-certainly, if his Majesty orders Grazt retaken, then it is by the will of Korill and all of the Gods that it shall be done.” He cringes under the attention now heaped upon him. “Simply tell the war-priests that you have my blessing to take ten of them.”

Wilhelm smiles brightly, and nods. “Thank you, High Druid.” Moving to leave, your youngest son pauses, looking back at you. “You will be alright without the Volkjaeger here? Perhaps I should leave some behind, I’m sure I can take a city with five hundred-” You cut him off before he can get to rambling.

“Wilhelm. There are nearly twelve thousand people in the castle and surrounding lands. By the last War Roll, five thousand-and-fifty were eligible for the Fyrd, and there are plenty of veterans who fought under your own banner, in your campaigns against the forest bandits.” You give him a wry smile. “I am aware of your concerns, but Castle Hohenwald is already the most secure location in Hohenwald- hells, in Hochland as a whole. But son-” You grip his hand tightly. “Don’t worry about me, only concentrate about bringing my city back.” This emboldens him, and he salutes you once more, walking off with purpose in his step, and fire in his eyes. You sit back in your chair, looking about the room, at your companions. Hellmann and Jarl Scholzlang are currently debating over the legality of some clause or the other, while Vladimir and Otto are commiserating over the more intellectual aspects of the laws you are drafting. Only Klaus III, your eldest, sitting at your side, looks at you, face betraying nothing, though you can tell he is bothered by something. There’s a difference between his natural stoicism, and a mask. You aren’t some socialite, or a keen-eyed Druid of Erkirr, but you know your children, if nothing else. Leaning into him, you whisper, raising an eyebrow, “Is something wrong, Klaus?”

Sighing, your eldest rubs his brow with one hand, gesticulating with the other. “I cannot think that it was wise to send him.”

“Why not, Klaus?” You’re surprised, you know that Klaus was never too friendly with his brothers, but even he should know his brother’s reputation for violence.

(Cont.)

>>4737036
He sighs again, looking upward at the ceiling, to try and avoid your eyes. “I…” He looks down at the table. “He reminds me of you, during the war.” Obviously remembering something, he smirks. “Though you showed me more familial affection than Wilhelm ever has, even at your darkest.” This is something of a relief to him, as he’s never really spoken on this subject, before. “I only worry that if you continue to send out Wilhelm on these missions, he’ll lose himself in the blood and fury. Like Bleak Mountain.” He leaves it unsaid what you did there, which you thank him for.

Pursing your lips, you nod. “I understand your concerns for your brother, Klaus. But whom would you rather me send? I need you and Otto here with me, here, working on this project. Albrecht is not a warrior in the slightest. And your sisters aren’t fit for command, even less so than Albrecht or Otto.” You smile, patting him on the hand. “Trust in your family, Klaus- and be there for them-” Klaus III cuts you off, with a wry grin, and finishes the quote.

“Even if they don’t particularly like you at the moment.” Nodding, he wears the mask once more, and turns to your councillors. “Shall we return to the subject at hand, then, Father?” You nod in assent, and look to the parchment-covered table.

Klaus, Hell, and Schulz have come up with several options to appease the Theignery, though, surprisingly, Otto and Vladimir haven’t just relegated themselves to offering opinions when asked, and they have come up with their own plan. They are as follows:

Klaus and Schulz simply want to reduce the amount of Tithe in peacetime- though the Double Tithe- the “Blood Tithe”- would remain unchanged. A simple, but likely effective plan, with no nuance to it. You would be buying the Theignery’s continued loyalty, or at least, assuaging their hurt egos with money.

Hellmann has a somewhat more involved plan. Not a single law, but rather, a set of laws, that grant a Theign or Citylord the right to Arbitration, within their own lands in peacetime, and the freedom to claim the property of dead or displaced peoples on their lands, instead of being required to either donate the property to the Circle of Druids, or rent it out to more tenants. This would give them significantly more latitude while dealing with Serfs and Thralls, while reinforcing their obedience to the throne, though Vladimir seems uneasy about the King delegating his holy right to Arbitration to the Theignery.

(Cont.)

>>4737041
Otto and Vladimir’s plan, meanwhile, would make every Theign have at least one Druidic advisor, approved by the Circle, and thus, by Vladimir, the High Druid. That way, the crown would have a direct finger on the pulse of dissent throughout the realm, and no Druid would be too loyal to the Theign or Citylord he serves, instead of the Circle and the King. While this plan is decent, you worry that it would further antagonize some of the more… touchy elements amongst the Theignery. And, you admit, you trust Vlad implicitly, but if you ever did something he disliked, he would have access to every court in the realm, with hundreds of Druids ready to speak out against the Crown.

Stroking your beard, you ponder on what choice to take. This will perhaps decide the fate for tens of thousands of people, if not the country at large. It is not a decision to be taken lightly, you feel.

>Klaus and Jarl Scholzlang’s plan. You don’t care for the risks involved in the other plans, and you’re willing to play into the greed of the Low Nobility, for now.
>Hellmann’s plan. Securing your control over the nobility is paramount right now- and allowing them to have more control over their subjects is the way to do it.
>Otto and High Druid Vladimir’s plan. While it does tie you to the Circle, you are, if not overtly pious, a faithful man, and you do not feel like giving the Theignery what they likely expect from you.
>A plan of your own? Or no plan at all? Why did you call this council if you chose this option? [Write-in]

Klaus and the Jarl's Plan seems the most sensible

>>4737200
>Klaus and Jarl Scholzlang’s plan. You don’t care for the risks involved in the other plans, and you’re willing to play into the greed of the Low Nobility, for now.
Writing!

>>4737200
Agreed

The vote window is a short one

>>4738205
Should I leave it open for longer, then? I thought 1-2 hours was reasonable for weekends and evenings, sorry.

>>4738207
I've missed the past 3 votes, though they've all went how I would have voted anyways. I simply need to pay closer attention, don't change your tempo on account of me. An enjoyable read all the same Athinar.

>>4737044
You hum, considering the other plans. While Otto, Vlad, and Hell’s plans are ambitious, and would probably be a forward-thinking set of reforms, in another age. However. You don’t need to change the country any further- that’s a monumental task, that you lay at the feet of your children. What you do need is to have a domain for them to inherit in the first place. [i]And in that regard,[/i] you think, [i]the simplest measures are generally the best.[/i] And so you set about convincing your best friend, your most sensitive son, and your nervous High Druid, to not feel bad that you didn’t choose their plans.

“I think,” careful now, that’s a dangerous proposition for such an old man, “that all of your plans have merit. However,” you pause, drumming your fingers on the table as you set the parchment down, “that Klaus and Schulz’ plan is the most efficacious for the situation at hand-” You hold up a hand, preempting their complaints. “And though it may seem base, and is wholly transparent as to our intentions, we cannot risk further secessions, no matter what.” You gesture towards Vladimir and Otto.

“Your plan was ambitious, and would have cemented our control over the Theignery. Which is a positive. But what if they see it as the looming eye of a paranoid lord, which it is? This would only incense them further, driving a wedge between us, when we need to coordinate ever more. Perhaps when the memory of this whole rebellion is forgotten, lost to Time.”

You scratch your beard. “Hell, I love you as a brother. Moreso, even, since my brothers were all bastards, bar one. But your plan…” you wince, as you ready to let him down. “It isn’t the kind of change that Hochland needs, at this time. While further powers in the hands of the Low Nobility would grant them more leeway in their domain, we must also consider the plight of our commonfolk. Under this plan…” You approximate the time it would take in your head, though it takes longer than it used to. “Within two or three generations, eventually, all families would either become serfs or thralls to the Theignery.” You raise an eyebrow. “An unintended consequence, I’m sure, but it would happen.” You shrug, looking deep into your brother by blood’s eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, Hell.” The silence is enough to tell you that you’re correct. Quietly, humbled, Otto, Vladimir, and Hellman each grab their respective sheets of parchment, rolling them up, while you sign Klaus and Schulz’, stamping the wax with your seal.

Handing off the scroll to Klaus, you stand up. “This meeting is adjourned.”

>>4738996
--------------------------------------------------------------

It is later that night, at your evening meal, that you receive the messenger. Isaria- the nation to your immediate south, which you share most of your southern border, and tumultuous history with, is sending an official envoy during these dark times. Apparently, it is a figure of some prestige amongst the Black-and-Gold Court, who has the Empress’ ear. You let out a sigh of relief. At least your ancient cousins will not intervene in your rebellion. Small blessings.

“This is good news. I was worried about the Empress’ response- it seems that she’s sensible, and honoring her father’s treaty.” You swallow down a cup of wine, swirling what remains about, as you lean back in your chair. [i]And cares for her sister, whom is one of your many consorts.[/i] But you leave that unsaid. Your companions for dinner stare back at you, processing this information as they chomp on a roast cow haunch, a rarity in the hills of Hochland.

What faces do you see? (Pick up to four options, or at least one)
>Klaus III, your oldest
>Albrecht, your second oldest
>Otto (and Lena), your twins
>Katarina and Ljudmila, your youngest daughter and her mother
>Johann, your Master of Intelligence
>Odin, your Master of Relations
>Vladimir, your High Druid
>Hellmann, your best friend
>Schulz, your other Jarl
>Another one of your consorts that you haven’t seen in a while
>Michel Röbestock, traitor to the realm
>Write-in?

All of them.

I take it Odin is the wandering sort?

>>4738999
>Klaus III, your oldest
>Albrecht, your second oldest
>Schulz, your other Jarl
>Katarina and Ljudmila, your youngest daughter and her mother

If we've got up to four. If "all of them" is an acceptable answer, I'll back this >>4739009

>>4739068
>>4739009
Ah, I'm afraid all of them isn't really an option, sorry. It would be a very interesting (and loud) conversation, but there's not physically enough space in Klaus' personal dining chambers. There's a main hall for feasts and such in the castle, but this is in the Royal Quarters.

>>4738999
>>Klaus III, your oldest
>>Johann, your Master of Intelligence
>>Odin, your Master of Relations
>>Schulz, your other Jarl

>>4739068
+1

Changing my all vote to Johann, Odin, Klaus, and Albrecht then.

>>4739068
>>4739079
>>4739201
>>4739231


>Klaus III, your oldest
>Albrecht, your second oldest
>Schulz, your other Jarl
and you know what, since they tied, I'll add 'em all.
>Katarina and Ljudmila, your youngest daughter and her mother
>Odin, your Master of Relations
>Johann, your Master of Intelligence

-Four votes for Klaus III
-Three votes for Albrecht
-Three votes for Schulz
-Two votes for Katarina and Ljudmila
-Two votes for Odin
-Two votes for Johann

Feel free to correct me if I've miscounted. An interesting combination. Writing!

Quick heads up to the thread, I possibly have jury duty today. I know, very inconvenient. If I'm free, I'll update on time, and if not, well, you'll know.

Sorry in advance, I'm not feeling lucky about this one.

If they're a Pyzcyian, you don't need a reason.

Around blacks, never relax.

With jews, you lose.

>>4738999
It is with a rather eclectic group that you eat your dinner. Surrounding the table are your two oldest sons, your youngest child, and her mother, one-third of your Council, and the Jarl who isn’t your best friend. Dinner is quiet, for the most part, though, with light conversation taking place between your family and your Council, Jarl Scholzlang preferring to take this opportunity to suck up to you. At least, until the message bearing the Isarian response arrives. It seems that everyone has their own opinions on that.

“Ah, the Isarians are coming. Without them, how else would we know that our drapes aren’t ornate enough, or that our food doesn’t have enough spices.” Klaus III sniffs, sipping a glass of Isarian wine. “Best get the servants to polishing the granite until it shines, they do love their own reflections.” This would normally be a horribly offensive thing to say, in the presence of any diplomat. And, naturally, Odin, your Master of Relations, winces.

“My Prince, I beg of you to not ever, EVER say such in the presence of the Isarian envoy. Whomever it is, they have the Empress’ affections- an idle comment such as that would ruin the current relations between our two countries.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, a bit more emotive than usual. It’s probably the wine, he’s been drinking like a demon all meal. “I am aware, Odin, I didn’t need my father’s head diplomat to tell me that. I had lessons, the same as my brothers.” They weren’t exactly lessons from expensive Isarian tutors, though. Back in those days, during the rebellion, you taught your son yourself, along with your wife. Gods, you miss her. She kept you centered without even needing to try. You take a large gulp of your wine, emptying the glass. A servant comes to refill it, and you stare blankly as the memories return.

Ah, Erika. What a woman. Gentle, kind, and perfect. And for some reason, she loved you, despite being arranged to be married to you. Even today, you’re still baffled by it. Your family all but threatened hers into the whole engagement- but she never judged you, never hated you. Even as you took her from everything she knew. You’ll never forget the look on her face when Klaus was born, for as long as you live. When she was reading to Klaus and Albrecht, that one night- You smile. Not even the fight against the tyrant king could take that gentle night from you. After she gave birth to the twins- and subsequently died, you couldn’t find it within yourself to marry another woman. But you don’t blame them for it- she would have hated you if you did.

“... Father?” Albrecht pats your hand, from his place at your side. “Did you hear me?” You blink hard, with a start. Hrm. You’re in your own head more and more often. Well, you are old. So it’s acceptable for you to do it.

“Hm? Hear what, son?”

(Cont.)

>>4743663
“Johann and I-” he gestures to the almost completely silent Master of Intelligence, eating tiny pieces of his dinner, like the birds he keeps in his tower, “have some information regarding the Isarian envoy, that you might find interesting.” You nod, wondering where this is going. “Well, it just so happens that he or she is a wyrm tamer- a guest within the Empress’ very own inner palace. The tamer, it is said, personally trained the wyverns for their Sun Chariot, or Phaeton Solar, whatever they call it.” An impressive feat, to tame the descendants of dragons.

You say as much. “Impressive. I wonder how much the Empress uses her sky chariot- it’s the first time in centuries since it last flew.” With a slight smile, you nod to Katarina, who sits at your other side, opposite Albrecht, in between you and her mother. “Perhaps you’ll get to see it one day, Katarina.” The quiet girl is suddenly quite interested in her food, as every eye at the table turns to her, listening to her response. After another moment of silence, she speaks.

“That would be nice, Father.” You know the girl is smart, and inquisitive, and observant. She’s just so quiet all the time. But you don’t begrudge her that, after all, Otto is much the same, even if he doesn’t share her hobby of climbing trees, buildings, and towers. After a second, everyone goes back to their own, individual conversations around the table.

Mila laughs softly, primly. “Don’t torment our daughter, Your Majesty, you know Katti isn’t meant for leading a conversation.” Ljudmila, your last Royal Consort, a woman some thirty-two years of age, smiles gently down at your daughter, brushing her hair back into place with a pale, slender hand. “Besides, I’m sure we all would [i]love[/i] to see such a thing, not just Katti.”

Rolling your eyes, you grump, “I’m an old man, Mila, I’m allowed to be rude.” But, ultimately, you assent to her smile, and your daughter’s big doe eyes. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry for throwing you to the wolves, Katarina, you can stop looking at me like a wounded puppy.” Your daughter smirks, and goes back to her food, while Mila just laughs again. “She’s going to be hell for her husband, isn’t she?” Your consort nods and smiles, staring fondly at your daughter.

The meal continues pleasantly after that, and, eventually, everyone has finished their food, and has moved onto the wine in earnest. Albrecht and Katarina get into a conversation about which trees in Castle Hohenwald are the best for climbing, while Klaus, Odin, and Schultz argue over something logistical- it has something to do with the Isarian wyrm tamer, and though you aren’t paying too much attention, Jarl Scholzlang clearly loses After this, Schulz clears his throat, apparently looking for your attention.

(Cont.)

>>4743665
“Your Majesty, your son and Master of Relations have come to a crossroads with me, could you [i]please[/i] mediate the conversation?” The tubby man looks at you pitifully, his words code for, ‘I have argued myself into a corner, and need rescuing.’ Sighing, you nod, drinking some more wine.

It appears that the conversation was about how you should welcome the Isarian envoy, and Schulz, ever the merchant, argues for ostentation. Isaria is wealthy, and the Empress’ palace is the most extravagant location in the country. It would not do to be shown up by kipfel munching pansies, after all.

Odin agrees, somewhat, but he believes that, while there should be a welcoming event, it should be more exclusive to you, the Council, and your sons, citing security concerns. Also, he remarks, acidly, throwing money at an event doesn’t suddenly make it more tasteful, and elegant.

Klaus III, ever the stubborn old bull, believes that the Isarian envoy should be fine with a personal meeting with just yourself, and no others, besides your guards, and a guest of your choosing. Huh. He’s even less fond of Isaria than you are. Maybe you should ask him why, sometime.

>Schulz’ plan is correct, invite every noble left at Castle Hohenwald.
>Odin is right, a more tasteful event would work.
>Klaus III is the victor of this conversation, you will meet with the envoy, alone.
>Why am I thinking about this, when we have more important things to consider, like Wilhelm marching on Grazt?

>>4743666
>Klaus III is the victor of this conversation, you will meet with the envoy, alone.
It might seem like a slap in the face but it's also a sign of trust.

>>4743666
>>Schulz’ plan is correct, invite every noble left at Castle Hohenwald.

I feel that it would help relations with the nobility some.

I'll leave the voting open overnight and call the vote when I wake up. In fact, I think that will be my vote policy for the rest of the thread.

Best to tread a middle ground I would say, unless we have a particular point to make.

Ask Johann for an update on word of Wilhelm's march. Also, ask Klaus if he has any particular reason to disdain the Isarians, but clarify that you agree with his sentiments other than lack of tact.

Is the Robestock at the dinner as well? If so, inquire as to what value he has to us alive.

One last thing, ask Odin for an update on our relations with other realms.

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>4743690
>>4743802
>>4744060
Rolling a die to tiebreak-
1: Schulz
2: Odin
3: Klaus

>>4743690
>>4744764
Klaus III is the victor of this conversation, you will meet with the envoy, alone.
Writing!

Yeah lemme get uuuuugggghhhhhhh a muhfuckin' boneless update

>>4746207
I don't want to make this a thing, you know, the "every other day something happens to make the update take a day longer", but I have felt ill all day, and I don't think it's gonna happen tonight. I think it might have been something I ate, so we'll see if I'm good for tomorrow.

>>4746263
Thanks for letting us know, hope it's nothin.

>>4746263
Hope you're doing well, no rush.

>>4743666
You nod at the three of them, having made your decision for the reception. You shall- barring your personal guards, of course, meet the Isarian envoy alone. While it might not be to their tastes, being used to the decadence of the Black-and-Gold Palace, any diplomat worth their salt would recognize that a private meeting with the king is a show of respect. And you do hope that she is sending a diplomat- surely the Empress would not send someone untrained, by virtue of their prestige and talents alone. Right? Your correspondence with the Empress, and what her sister, your consort, told you painted her as compassionate and reasonable, if prone to flights of fancy.

… You now think that a private meeting was the most correct decision.


“We shall hold a private audience- though [i]not[/i] out of disrespect.” You give Klaus III a stern glance. “While I find our brothers to the south overbearing and nonsensical, oft times, I know to hold my tongue around others, even in private. I am curious as to what loosens yours, Klaus.” You hold up a finger. “And it is [i]not[/i] the wine.”

Sighing, your eldest son grimaces. “Do I have to say, Father? It is not exactly… sensible.” Huh. Self-awareness about it. Perhaps you can trust him to keep quiet in an official capacity, though if his thoughts ever reached the court, you’re sure that Isaria would hear one way or another. You simply give him a look. [i]The[/i] look. He sighs again. “Remember when you sent Albrecht and I on a tour? Well, in the year or so we spent in Isaria, I was completely miserable. Albrecht had the time of his life, but for me, it only reinforced what everyone said Isarians were like. The courtiers were snobbish, they were grandiose, and there was so much gold [i]everywhere.[/i]” Klaus scrunches up his nose. “And they have yet to change in that regard. I’d rather we have nothing to do with them, but we need the trade.” Ah, so it is irrational. Well, at least Klaus is the most self-aware of all your children.

Odin looks vaguely horrified during this whole conversation, so you turn to him. “So, Odin, have you enjoyed your dinner?” He gives a strangled laugh. “Tell me- how have our neighbors responded to the rebellion, and impending war with Pzyczia?” Perhaps he’ll calm down when not imagining how the First Prince could cause various diplomatic ‘incidents.’

(Cont.)

>>4748559
Odin concentrates for a moment, organizing his internal ‘list.’ You asked him about it, once, how he kept so damned much information in his head- you still don’t understand it, but he remembers everything that he saw or heard, even if it takes him a little while to concentrate on the memory. “You already know The Heavenly State of Pzyczia’s response- they’re the ones who caused all this. Though, they do seem to be taking the moral high ground when calling the cossacks to war. Talking about their God-Kings and ‘those degenerate ghost worshippers’, and how they need to put us in our place.” He shrugs. “Typical fare, honestly. The Empire of Isaria seems to be the same as before, but on our side, for the most part, the Duchy of Lenigaites seems to take this as a sign to raid Ravomsk ever more, and poke at our northern border.”

Sipping his wine, he takes moment to think about what to say. “The Everlasting and Eternally Free City of Faronkratzk’s First Spear has issued no statement- though that is no surprise. Given how little news reaches the city, I would not take it as an insult nor endorsement of any side. Though with how many headhunting raids the Lenigatians are going on, I would expect that they wouldn’t be fond of [i]anyone[/i] born of Cossack stock.”

Nodding, you think on your situation once more. Smirking, you ask, “And I assume that no more horse-borne raiders are seen on the sea, coming to support their brethren in this hour of violence?” It’d be a regular second Landing.

Odin shudders. “I thank the Gods every day that they have not. Pzcyzians make no sense, and if there were more of them on their way, emulating their cousins of long ago? I might not be able to handle it.” For a second, you imagine Pzyczians everywhere, riding their light, fast horses through the hills, raiding everyone and everything, enslaving the survivors, and displaying the skulls of the rest. It’s a truly awful thought, and the Röbestock border families will answer for their crimes of rebellion and defection. This turns your mind to thoughts of the traitorous border family, more specifically, Michel, the youngest son, and most nervous.

Mindful of the fact that your youngest child is still in the room, you (carefully) ask Albrecht, Johann, and Klaus, “I wonder-” You scratch your chin. “Does it benefit us to keep the youngest Röbestock under house arrest?” Albrecht perks up at this, listening attentively. “Ransom seems unlikely, at this stage.” They seem surprised, and wait for you to explain yourself. “If they were [i]only[/i] angry over his imprisonment for his place in the scheme, then would they not have sent their demands, before taking Grazt in protest?”

(Cont.)

>>4748562
Johann seems hesitant to say anything, but he nods. “That is one of my hypotheses- Pardon my Pzyczian. I do not wish to confirm anything, without proof, but even if one Theign in the Röbestock clan is impetuous, the rest of them should not follow, unless they’re all in on it.” He pauses. “It is likely that they sent the boy here to die, given My Lord’s fearsome reputation towards traitors.”

Well. That is quite the kick in the teeth. Offering one’s own blood-kin as a sacrifice, or a distraction. Sighing, you say, “Question him in regard to the rebellion, and if he knew it was coming. It will likely be a fruitless interrogation, but all information is useful, even if it is not apparently so.” Drumming your fingers on the table, you continue, “After that…”

>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.
>Release him into Albrecht’s custody- your son can keep an eye on him, you have not the guards to waste on a nobody.
>Send him back to the Röbestocks. On foot. Unescorted. Through Hohenwald. In early autumn. If he makes it back alive, something tells you they’d want him dead. This way, you absolve all responsibility.
>Maintain the house arrest until the rebellion is over. Even if he did come here to die, he could still be feeding his family information.

>>4748565
>>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.

>>4748565
>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.

>>4748565
>>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.

>>4748565
>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.
Nail his hands to it too

>>4748565
>>Maintain the house arrest until the rebellion is over. Even if he did come here to die, he could still be feeding his family information.

It is my opinion that we might be able to use him against his family, place him over their lands after the rebellion perhaps.

Did Albrecht know the seal was in his secret compartment? If the lad did it without informing our son, thus setting Albrecht up, I support the beheading with a side of hands. If the lad did so with Albrecht's knowledge, take one of his hands for stealing and make Albrecht be the one to remove it, as he is partial to the crime, it is his responsibility therefore, and he has not received any punishment.

Anons, we are talking about executing someone who may not have even been aware that his family sent him to his death

>>4748565
>Maintain the house arrest until the rebellion is over. Even if he did come here to die, he could still be feeding his family information.

>>4748873
Albrecht didn't inform him beforehand- but he didn't do it to set him up. He did it because Albrecht was treating him well in the court, and he's a maladjusted little weirdo who thought that 'maybe Albrecht could do something with this' when told where the royal seal was by a creep in a hood wearing blue woad paint. Albrecht put the seal in his secret compartment on purpose, to hide it while everyone was searching for it, so he could return it later, and cover for Michel. So I don't know where that is on your vote-o-meter, it's just a messy situation.

Oh, and I'll be calling the vote at in 30 minutes, so you have time to respond.

>>4748573
>>4748579
>>4748591
>>4748609
>Execute him and send the head to his family. Show the clan what fate awaits them for betrayal.

Writing!

>>4748565
>Maintain the house arrest until the rebellion is over. Even if he did come here to die, he could still be feeding his family information.
He could be made into the new lord of the area after his family is dealt with, might be easier for the locals to swallow, than some unknown newcomer. though weather it's beneficial or not to install a deeply indebted pawn who also happens to be an Idiot is debatable. Also killing him alienates our son, and could be used as propaganda by his family to justify their rebellion further.

>>4748565
You lean in to Klaus, careful to keep your voice almost imperceptibly low. While Katarina probably knows that, as a king, you have ordered men executed or killed, you would still rather not loudly state a man’s death warrant in front of your youngest. And you don’t really feel like getting into an argument with Albrecht at the table- save that for later, when he inevitably finds out about the execution. “Slate the lad to be executed at dawn tomorrow. Send our fastest rider with the head to catch up with Wilhelm’s force- they should be a third of the way to Grazt by now.” Somewhat surprised, Klaus blinks, but nods, and you continue. “Only inform three people- Johann, and the guards outside the young Röbestock’s chambers. If Albrecht catches wind, I’m sure he’d do something foolish for the lad- he did hamper the investigation for his sake, after all.”

Klaus nods, and you know, he is aware of the score, and you can trust him implicitly, as with all things.The first rule of war is that killing your enemy to the last man is your last resort- you must first crush their will first. And even if they did send him to die, and you are playing into their hands, politically, you know it’s best to pull out weeds by the root, to keep them from choking the crops.

It is always regrettable, to kill a man so young- but you will not allow anything, ANYTHING, to threaten your children’s lives and prosperity. You’ve come too far. It’s a revelation you came to realize some years ago. You’re not holding the throne because you enjoy ruling. You’re simply holding it for your heir. And perhaps, until you are dead, you can’t trust anyone, even your dear children, to rule better than you.

Sighing, you turn back to the gathered dinner guests, and talk, long into the night. It is a… normal evening, if you can even call an assemblage such as your own ‘normal’. Wine is poured, conversation is had, and eventually, you head off to bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

>>4751062
Your name is Albrecht Echzan, the second-born son of Klaus II, your wonderful father, who just so happens to be the king of Hochland, and ruler of the Hohenwald. A fun fact about kings, you note, is that, ever so often, they have to kill people, despite their intentions, or likability.

And it is in this vein of thinking that Father has ordered your friend killed, as a message to his family.

Though you’re not one to blatantly disobey your Father- (you do love the old man,) you simply cannot allow this to happen. You’re glad, in a way. While this is a serious situation, breaking a man free from house arrest in the most secure castle in the forested hill-lands, it is also an opportunity to practice your skills.

“Albrecht, are we going to steal something? You’re wearing your stealing clothes, can I have something shiny? I like rings the most, just so you know.” And maybe get the squawking raven spirit on your shoulder to shut up for five seconds.

It’s an odd feeling, seeing and hearing something that isn’t physically there. You feel a weight where your companion is, but you know, realistically, that he is not there at all. Regardless, Skrek- (You have named him Skrek, since he does naught but screech at you all day to hoard your jewelry like a magpie, or wear it all at once, so he could stare at it,) continues to flap about your shoulder, blabbing about everything he ‘heard’. As far as you know, spirits don’t have actual ears to hear, nor noses to smell, they [i]feel[/i] things in the realworld, by extending their perceptions here from the dreamworld.

So when Skrek told you what Father said to Klaus at dinner, you knew you needed to act fast. You…

>Decided to lie to the guards, tell them that you’re simply talking to your friend. It won’t help the rumors any, but it’s a way to get into Michel’s quarters, without much danger.
>Decided to climb across the sloped palace roof to Michel’s room- in the dark of the night, wearing your ‘stealing’ clothes, now that the Volkjaeger have been replaced by Fyrd- you should have an easy time of it.
>Have Skrek carry notes in and out of Michel’s room to plan- he’s one of the few that knows of the infernal bird’s existence, and this keeps you out of the situation almost entirely, with nothing incriminating left behind.

Sorry for the shorter update. Just ended up that way.

>>4751063
>Decided to climb across the sloped palace roof to Michel’s room- in the dark of the night, wearing your ‘stealing’ clothes, now that the Volkjaeger have been replaced by Fyrd- you should have an easy time of it.
Burnout soon fellow stalker.

>>4751063
>>Decided to climb across the sloped palace roof to Michel’s room- in the dark of the night, wearing your ‘stealing’ clothes, now that the Volkjaeger have been replaced by Fyrd- you should have an easy time of it.

>>4751063
>Have Skrek carry notes in and out of Michel’s room to plan- he’s one of the few that knows of the infernal bird’s existence, and this keeps you out of the situation almost entirely, with nothing incriminating left behind.

>>4751063
>>Decided to lie to the guards, tell them that you’re simply talking to your friend. It won’t help the rumors any, but it’s a way to get into Michel’s quarters, without much danger.

>>4751075
>>4751082
>Decided to climb across the sloped palace roof to Michel’s room- in the dark of the night, wearing your ‘stealing’ clothes, now that the Volkjaeger have been replaced by Fyrd- you should have an easy time of it.
Sneeki breeki like.
Writing!

>>4751063
This is not the first time you have snuck around the castle at nighttime- Johann was once your mentor, and he wouldn’t teach you anything of substance until you could sneak along the walls, between two towers, completely undetected by the Volkjaeger. It took you actual years to manage it, and you were spotted by one of the Ravens anyway, but eventually, you began your training under your father’s Master of Information. Compared to that, this is a trifling matter, hardly worthy of your skills. And it’s not like Father will expect this- Skrek, the little bastard, was a surprise to you as well, and Johann taught you how to keep a secret.

It’s a shame- you’ll have to mislead Father as to how Michel escaped, when he inevitably suspects you. His quarters are somewhat near the Moon Hall, and you do have some clear affection for the lad, so it’s only natural. You wish you could just tell him to not do this, but then you’d have to explain Skrek to him, and, well, affection only goes so far, when you’re dealing with gods and monsters. Ideally, no one will ever know about the spirit that seems dead set on haunting you. Though, maybe after Father passes, you can get a pardon from whomever the heir is. That would be nice.

You haven’t really put much thought into whom the heir might be, though you do know Father wrote it down, somewhere. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious as all the hells to find out which of your brothers it was- but honestly, you’d rather not know. Because then you’d plot to get into the best position possible before the crowning, and it’d be a whole [i]thing[/i], and you’d have to gauge whether your brothers are trying to kill you, and it just wouldn’t be worth it. It’s not that you wouldn’t accept kingship- who wouldn’t- it’s just that it would likely be too much effort to rule the country properly. If you do something, you do it right, even though you’re not the biggest fan of expending effort into something no one will ever thank you for.

Waiting until the moon is obscured by a passing cloud bank, you exit onto your balcony, dressed in all black, face concealed by one of the Raven’s masks that they wear- a simple piece of cloth, wrapped around the face, dyed black. It’s terribly dramatic, but then again, no one has yet casually identified a Raven by recognizing their face, aside from maybe Johann. So you can’t complain too much.

Climbing up onto the heavy silver-coated tiles of the Moon Hall’s roof, which normally reflect the shining light of the moon far into the night, and now reflect nothing but darkness, you do the count of rooms silently, in your head. Michel’s ‘prison’ chambers are some three halls down from yours, five rooms to the left, and- there. Michel didn’t get a balcony, which is a shame. The view from the Moon Hall’s third floor is to die for. But- you withdraw a prybar from your belt- you can make do.
(Cont.)

>>4752839

Attaching a rope to the roof’s ridge, careful not to let the hook [i]clink[/i] loud enough to alert anyone, you tie the rope around your waist, and carefully ease yourself over the side. Moving slowly, yet surely, in the moonlight, tight-fitting black clothes absorbing what little light there is in the obscured moonlight, you feel like a living shadow. Now you get why Johann dresses the way he does. It’s a fairly empowering feeling, especially to you, since, well, you never really took to combat lessons the way Klaus and Wilhelm did. Carefully, you put the prybar at the edge of the window frame, and [i]pop[/i] it out into your waiting hands. The glass feels cold in your hands.

Popping a leg up and through the window, you practically dive through, like a swimmer in a deep lake. Landing on your feet, you look around for Michel, and- there. Asleep, through the whole ordeal. You smile fondly, though it’s a bit sad. Poor kid. Betrayed by his family, manipulated by a cult, alone in the world. Well, except for you. Which is why you’re here. Tapping him on the shoulder, you cover his mouth as he wakes up, which causes him to struggle with you a bit as he wakes up, but you ‘shush’ him, holding a finger up to your lips, and, eventually, he gets it, calming down. Motioning to the back of the room, far from the locked door, where the guards might hear you talkin, you creep across the room, careful to stay in shadow.

Unsure, Michel follows, and, when you both arrive at the furthest point from the door in the room, asks, whispering, “Albrecht?” You nod. “What are you doing here, don’t tell me-” He gets a frightened look on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re breaking me out? Go, now, you’ll get in so much trouble if you’re caught-” You shush him again, and he quiets.

“Your family has declared war on the King, and allied itself with Pzyczia to do so.” Shocked, Michel can utter no reply, and so, you continue. “The King, my father, has ordered you executed at the break of dawn, as a message to them.”

Horrified, Michel clutches at his neck, as if it’s about to pop off at any second, now that you’ve said that. “I-I didn’t know anything about this, Albrecht, I swear-” You hold up a black-gloved hand.

“I know, Michel, I know. You’re not capable of subterfuge, nor would you wish to perpetrate it against your overlord.” Michel looks somewhat miffed at that. “But none of that matters now. We need to get you out of Castle Hohenwald.” Michel nods, and immediately starts getting dressed, while you continue to explain your plan. “I have a rope, thirty-five cubits long. We will climb to the ground level of the castle, and make our way to the side gate- from there, we will…”
(Cont.)

>>4752847
>Steal donkeys from the Yeoman’s stables, just outside the walls, and ride them out of the immediate area, off the main road.
>Make our way on foot to the public lodge, down in the town surrounding Castle Hohenwald. It’s still dangerous, but you can plan your next move from there.
>Send Michel out on the road alone, with a sword, some rations, and a map of the continent. You care for him, but you cannot blow your cover.
Also, pick a place to send him to:
>Pzyczia
>Isaria
>Ravomsk
>Lenigaites
>Faronkratzk

The road, Faronkratzk

>>4752851
>>Steal donkeys from the Yeoman’s stables, just outside the walls, and ride them out of the immediate area, off the main road.

The free city being neutral seems like a good place perhaps. Maybe we can have him act as an unofficial emissary to try and gain aid from them or hire some mercenaries, to show his loyalty to the king rather than his family in some way and achieve a pardon.

>>4752964
I'll support this.

>>4752851
>Send Michel out on the road alone, with a sword, some rations, and a map of the continent. You care for him, but you cannot blow your cover.
>Ravomsk

>>4752851
>Make our way on foot to the public lodge, down in the town surrounding Castle Hohenwald. It’s still dangerous, but you can plan your next move from there.
>Isaria

>>4752964
>>4753079
>Steal donkeys from the Yeoman’s stables, just outside the walls, and ride them out of the immediate area, off the main road.
>Faronkratzk

Blegh, I overslept massively. Anyways, writing!

Did you count my greentextless vote? It looks like the road won to me QM.

>>4754480

By my count, there's
-1 vote for the road to faronkratzk
-1 vote for the road to ravomsk
-2 votes for offroad trucking to faronkratzk
-1 vote for the public lodge and then isaria

So, even if I did count the two road votes together, it'd be a tie. Sorry for any confusion.

>>4754627
Before anyone complains, I change my vote to the winning vote and break the hypothetical tie. So no ambiguity exists at all. Roadvoters btfo.

>>4752851
>>Send Michel out on the road alone, with a sword, some rations, and a map of the continent. You care for him, but you cannot blow your cover.
>Faronkratzk

>>4752847
“... steal donkeys from the Yeoman’s stables, and immediately make our way into the wilderness.” Sensing a question coming, you say, “horses are both more valuable than donkeys, so Father would search for you longer, as well as donkeys being the better choice for riding through the hills without so much as a waystone to guide you.”

Michel seems to be at a loss, staring at you, dumbfounded, as he dresses himself in browns and greens, trying to prepare himself, as much as one can, with the wardrobe of a courtier. “I… don’t know what to say, Albrecht, I-I-”

You cut him off. “Time for that when we’re in the woods, lad.” He gets the picture, and, putting on a cloak for heavier weathers, you leave the room by way of the window. He slips twice, but otherwise, you make it to the ground floor safely. Holding up a hand, you point to a particularly shadowy corner, a recession in the architecture that leads to an unused (you hope) cellar door. “Wait here,” you say, “I’ll have to climb back up, and hide the rope- I’ll come back outside by means of the servant entrance. Do NOT move, unless someone is about to find you. If that happens, break for the gardens.”


And with that, you climb the rope again, looking nervously up at the moon. It’s still hidden behind a cloud, but the highlands have always been windy, catching the full brunt of the seawind on the tops of forested hills, pine needles and oak leaves whispering in the night. You don’t know how long you have until the weather changes. So you move quickly- as quickly as you can reasonably go, while still sneaking.

Grabbing the rope, pulling it up, and wrapping it up in a knot, you drop down onto your balcony, padded soles of your boots making a small tapping sound, and not much else. Tossing your hooked rope back into your wardrobe (the carved oak door creaking, you’ll need to get a servant to oil the hinges later,) you exit your quarters, wearing your hood, but sans the face mask, and gloves. If you’re caught, you can just leverage your reputation. Though you’d really rather not have another lecture from Father, you’re thirty-two.

It’s demeaning.

Creeping through the Moon Hall, careful to, above all, listen for the sound of footsteps, you head down the side stair to the servant’s quarters, and you’re almost to the door, when you’re stopped by a voice. “Ho there! Who might you be?” It’s an authoritative voice, female, and- you turn around, to see Gretjya, the head scullery maid, holding a rolling pin, coming out of the scullery.

(Cont.)

>>4755822
Holding your hands up, you flash a smile, pulling back your hood. “Why hello there Gretjya, fancy running into you here.” With a start, the old woman blinks hard, and then catches on immediately.

“Ah, so you’re off to see someone then, my lord?” She winks. “Well, far be it from me to stop or lecture you.” Gretjya has always been understanding of your… proclivities, and knows how to keep a secret, most importantly.

“I trust that we need not mention this to anyone?” You groan in mock abashment. “I’m old enough to not get scolded by Father, yet if he finds out, he’ll treat me like a child again.” The older staff remembers the time you were caught with a lover in a cupboard by a servant, who just so happened to be bringing Father on a tour of the newly refurbished kitchens. Needless to say, the chastisement was legendary, and people still talk about it, to this very day, although, fortunately, you’ve managed to make it a part of your rakish persona, when dealing with the Court.

Gretjya taps her nose, going back to doing some late-night dishwashing, cleaning a clay plate with a lye-soaked rag. “You needn’t worry, sire, I shan’t say a thing.” She hums nicely. “Give my regards to the lovely woman.” Heh.
“I shall, dear Gretyja, I shall.” Pulling up your hood, you step back out into the night, and hurry back to Michel. He’s still in the same location, thank the Gods, though he’s crouching, rubbing his hands together. It is a cool night, now that you think about it. Pulling him up, you clap him on the shoulders, and nod, authoritatively. “Alright then. That’s that. Now, let’s see about getting out of the castle.”

You have several ways to approach the side gate.

>Throw a rock onto the cobblestone of the courtyard, draw the night porter away. Simple, though you’ll have a frighteningly small window to get through the side gate.
>You exit the gate openly as a distraction. Once you’re out, Michel will clobber the night porter, and exit after you, some time later.
>Attack the night porter- though you’re no legendary warrior like Wilhelm, you’re still trained in the martial arts, and you can incapacitate himself simply enough.
>Write-in?

Sorry for the late post, btw, time got away from me, in a major way. I'll probably call the vote around 2-3 PM EST, to compensate.

>>4755823
>Attack the night porter- though you’re no legendary warrior like Wilhelm, you’re still trained in the martial arts, and you can incapacitate himself simply enough.

>>4755823
>>Write-in?
you engage the night porter in conversation or otherwise distract him, ordering him to do a menial task for example. Michel will use the opportunity to sneak past, you will follow later preferably trough an other route if time allows.

>>4756077
Support

>>4756077
>>4756349
Very well, the write-ins have it! Writing!

>>4755823
“When I distract the night porter, you need to sneak past him. Stay out of his sight lines, and stick to the shadow.” You pat Michel on the shoulder. “Don’t move until he turns to face me fully. And try to move slowly, sudden movements attract attention, even in the peripheral.” And with that advice, you move forward, approaching the night porter’s station by the side gate, blinking as you get closer to the lantern burning dimly in the night, casting deep shadows across the courtyard. The night porter stirs from his seat as you approach, and he stands, holding up the lantern.

“Who’s this, then?” He doesn’t seem too suspicious of you, though he does seem to be on guard. It’s not often that something happens at this post, so he’s somewhat nervous. That, compounded with the recent assassination attempt, well, he’ll probably be more eager to do his job properly.

You pull back your hood some as you get closer, standing just outside the post, so that to look at you, he’d have to turn fully away from the side gate. “It’s just me, good man, worry not.” You smile. “I don’t suppose that I can get you to open the gate, and not tell anyone I passed by?” You see Michel move in the background. Good.

The man winces at your request. “I mean, my lord, I can, if it’s just someone below your stature, asking, but if the King orders me to…” He bows his head incrementally, trying to not seem like he’s talking back to a prince. “I-I mean, I HAVE to, you know?”

You sigh. Michel is halfway there. “Are you absolutely sure of this? I just want to visit my friend in the town”, lover, he thinks, “and I don’t want another lecture from my Father.” You pat your waist, where your money pouch sits, only clinking when you tap it. “Are you sure that there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” He wavers, money is tight for a night porter, but he eventually shakes his head. Annnnd, done. Michel is through the side gate, closing it behind him.

Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose, and shake your head. “Well then, my friend will be ever so disappointed to hear that. You know, it wouldn’t even be bribery, think of it as-” You look up at him, a mischievous look in your eye. “As a bonus on your wage. Since my family are the ones who pay you.” You shrug. “Oh well. Maybe the main gate guards will be more willing to hold their tongues…”

(Cont.)

>>4757546
The porter grimaces, wavering under your assault. “Well, I suppose, if you put it like that…” He fiddles with his hands a bit, nervously. “I suppose I could let you through without telling anyone.” He laughs nervously, remembering your stature. “My lord.”

Smiling, you toss him your purse, which he catches, startled. “Wonderful. But be sure to not just let anyone through if they flash enough coin, eh? This is only fine because I’m the second prince.” He nods earnestly, and starts counting his coin.

Moving leisurely through the side gate, you don’t let onto anything, acting as if you’re going to the town for a night of fun, and don’t have a care in the world. You even whistle a jaunty folk tune. Weaponizing your persona is definitely something you’re good at- but more and more, as you get older, you feel somewhat uncomfortable doing it. You’re no longer genuinely this person anymore, but it’s what people expect of you. Maybe you should tone it down a bit, before you get too old for it, and people treat you like some sort of ignoble lecher, instead of a rakish fop.

Well, questions of that sort can wait- right now, you’re saving your friend.

You find him waiting just outside the side gate, waiting in the alcove for you, looking out into the town nervously. A hundred little fires stare back up at you, the sign of lives getting ready to go to sleep. It all looks so… fragile, under the stark light of the moons, and the cold distance of the stars. Like humanity is still just as small and insignificant as when they dwelled in the caves of the higher hills. You don’t like it, one bit. You’re not self-important, but the Druids are meant to handle the questions of the higher spheres, and existentialism. You prefer to deal in the real- what’s in front of you. Like a nervous young man, who did nothing nearly horrible enough to deserve execution.

Leading him to the Common Stable (where yeomen and merchants can post their mounts for free, by the grace of the king,) you look over the stable, and pick out two mules from the countless swayback chargers, bought at half-price from the military stables, so their owners can play at being quasi-nobility. Careful to not wake up the stablehand, who sleeps in an empty stall, on a bed of hay, you exit the stable, putting bits, bridles, and reins on the two mules, and not much else. Riding bareback will have to suffice.

Looking over Michel one last time, you head out into the night, where possibilities are endless-and the dangers are many. He’ll have a tough go of it, going all the way to Faronkratzk, but the free city that bows to no one should be a safe place for him, at least, until you either manage to convince Father to pardon him, or, well, convince Father’s successor. But at least it’s a chance, something he didn’t have two hours ago.

(Cont.)

>>4757548
It is at this point, now that you’re deep in the woods, Skrek chooses to speak up. The idiotic bird has been preening himself on your shoulder this whole time, presumably to not distract you from your “stealing.” He is, (remarkably, for such a loud spirit,) quite sympathetic towards your clandestine efforts, which he always calls ‘stealing’. “Prince-man, where are we going? Are we going to steal somewhere else? Is there shinier silverware there?” You look over at Michel, who can’t hear the bird, but knows he’s there.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Skrek- Michel, here, however, is going to flee to Faronkratzk by the North Road.” You toss your young friend a bag of money that you had prepared earlier. “Michel, stay off the road, until you reach the crossroads. Buy supplies there, and continue north. Stay off the road when you can, but travel parallel to it.” You look up at the stars, and point out the Guiding Eye, the star perfectly equidistant between the two moons at Eighth Moondial. “That light shall be your guide- it will always guide you north.” With nothing left to say, you look at Michel in silence, studying his face. He’s dear to you, even if he is a bit dim. You’d hate to forget his slightly dopey features- they’re what endeared you to the lad in the first place.

“I-I cannot thank you enough, Prince Albrecht-” He wrings his hands nervously. “I’ve never done anything like this before, but, heh, you’ve taught me more than I would’ve ever known, if I had stayed at my family’s keep. You have been, ah, a true friend.” He flushes, though if it’s the chill of the night getting to him, or embarrassment, you can’t tell. “Well, ah, goodbye.”

He begins to ride off, and you watch him leave, for a few seconds, but eventually, you call out, gently, the tune of the Night Singers, (stark-white birds that only come out and sing at night,) ringing out all around, “Promise me that you’ll live, Michel. So that everything we’ve done wasn’t for nothing.” A certain sadness laces your words, surprising even you.

With uncharacteristic cheer, Michel nods, smiling. “I, ah, I promise, Albrecht! You’ll hear from me once I get there! I promise it.”

And with that, serenaded by the songbirds of the deep night, Michel Röbestock leaves your life- guided by a star to safety. You can only hope it was enough.

--------------------------------

>>4757550
You are Klaus Aleksandre the Third. Your father is the King of Hochland, and the ruler of Hohenwald, and the sole possessor of the most secure citadel in the land. You are charged with great trust, as your father’s firstborn- and great duty as well. For example, you have been told, by your father, in confidence, to execute your wastrel brother’s newest toy at the break of dawn, as the cock crows.

A toy whom is conspicuously missing from his room.

You raise the alarm five minutes later. Your Father arrives at the scene in ten, a storm in his eyes, though he’s dressed in naught more than decency requires.

The manhunt begins twenty minutes later.


Thank you for reading thread 5 of King of Wolves! The next thread will be up after this one falls off the board, I hope to see you all then! I'll be posting in the /qtg/, and on my twitter when the time comes! Hope you had fun!

>>4757555
Thanks man, looking forward to the next thread