3. A meeting atop a hill.

A meeting atop a hill.

  • Y

    A strange pair meet atop a hill: one grand, the other meek. One would be known to many as one of the leaders of the Norwick resistance. The other is an Ilmatari priestess who carries no titles. The man, an elf, comes at the others' behest. With great hesitation the girl begins to speak her plea.

    @f94fe2757e:

    [Hope purses her lips a moment, summoning the courage to speak her mind, then she quietly begins to murmur.]

    Hope: I… I hope to convince you of the wisdom of... not... reclaiming the lands of Norwick, that the settlement might be rebuilt.

    Havon: I fear I do not fully understand your meaning.

    Havon: The settlement cannot be rebuilt if it remains held by hostile bugbears.

    Havon: Nor can it be repopulated by Norwickians if they are in shackles

    [Hope nods, quietly continuing]

    Hope: I would not suggest that those held by Ostromog be abandoned, M'lord. They must be liberated, of course… but...

    Havon: ...Liberated, or abandoned?

    Havon: -Ah, I understand.

    Havon: Then you suggest freeing the people but abandoning the land. The issue with that is both logistics and reality. There are over a thousand people remaining in Norwick. We cannot free them all abruptly, and we cannot free them all gradually. Nor can we even free the -majority- of them over any period of time.

    Havon: That is the logistical problem.

    Havon: The problem with reality is that the people are desirous of their own homes. Not only rebuilding, but motivating the people to rebuild is harder than retaking the town itself.

    Havon: It so happens that reality and logistics coincide: logistically, the only way to free our people is to retake the town.

    Havon: But I am open to your persuasion to the contrary.

    Havon: What is your argument in its favor?

    [The priestess tilts her head a moment, wearing a distinct frown. She takes some time to begin to speak, and when she does she does so without the finesse of Havon's own practiced oratory.]

    Hope: If it pleases M'lord: Your people are beleaguered and weary. They miss their loved ones and their livelihood. As…. As 'tis plain to see, we suffer from fell weather here in Peltarch. If the chill doth linger overmuch our harvests may well fail in the outlying farms. 'Twould... 'Twould be best if we were to build a settlement now, elsewhere, while seeds might still take hold.

    Havon: Politics, my lady.

    [Hope furrows her brow, confused]

    Hope: ….M'lord?

    Havon: Politics and the scarcity of usable land. This part of the pass we are in – it belongs to Peltarch. And even so, mercenaries and others who offer to aid in this war against Ostromog vie for its ownership in the aftermath.

    Havon: And to the west and north of Peltarch – land thoroughly unsafe to be settled. Peltarch's own farmland is in danger whenever we do not maintain a closed passage between their breeding grounds and our territory.

    Havon: To the east? Swamps, full of hostile lizardfolk. And hardly a breadbasket. To the west and south? Romani land, not ours to settle – though any of the few Norwickians who do not value their identity might find a place as an unnatural citizen there.

    Havon: Beyond the bridge to the south? A place to settle, certainly, if we wished to be raided by Bugbears. Or perhaps the demon-infested lands of Jiyyd? Where some of us have fought to cleans for years upon years. Perhaps some day many generations from now that might be fit to settle.

    Havon: No, I am afraid that settling a new place here is not an option for us.

    [Hope looks more than a bit crestfallen, but she continues her plea]

    Hope: But… But I'm certain that people would rally to your cause! There must be a parcel somewhere that could fit your people. Somewhere which would not put the refugees upon Ostromog's warpath. The Romani do not seem an unreasonable people. P-Perhaps they might be brought to sympathy by your plight.

    Havon: I am sure the Romani would not -refuse- our refugees. But they are Romani. Norwickians are men and women of the south Nars, with a unique identity of their own just as much as the Romani have to themselves.

    Havon: But norwhere in Narfell evades Ostromog's warpath. Unless he is stopped, -Peltarch itself- is in danger.

    [The girl nods]

    Hope: I… I know, M'lord. He will be stopped, and those held captive will be made free. But.... But....

    <hakon looks="" at="" hope,="" stoically="" awating="" her="" further="" elaboration="" with="" infinite="" patience.="">Hope: ...The lands of Norwick have long been stained with the blood and tears of martyrs. Ilmater weeps for their sacrifice, but that for which they have laid down their lives is now here. All was not well before the town was taken by Ostromog.

    Hope: Your people have lived betwixt the undead, a horde of goblins, and a great host of all manner of dread creature. And that for which your people have laid down their lives now resides within -these- walls.

    [She says, gesturing north towards the gates of Peltarch in the distance]

    Hope: I… I urge you to keep that safe, above all.

    Havon: Indeed, not all was well, how will Ostromog be stopped if we do not oust him from Norwick before we oust him from the Rawlinswood, and the lands south of that, and the Prime itself?

    Havon: This temporary unity of the north Nars may indeed be an opportunity to roll past Ostromog and clear all of the south Nars of its historical dangers.

    [She shakes her head]

    Hope: M'lord…. I believe in these dark times your people need a shield, not a sword.

    Havon: Peltarch is our shield, for the time being.

    Hope: I pray 'twill ever be your shield, but it cannot be if both our people starve.

    Havon: Indeed it cannot be, and with so many refugees, both Peltarch and Norwick's free people will suffer. What must be done, I cannot help but think, is to retake what land -can- support our people – what land -has- supported our people for so long.

    Havon: If we wish to settle any new land, there will need to be war waged and blood shed -anyway-. That blood might as well be shed on our home's earth than somewhere foreign and impersonal to us.

    Hope: We cannot afford a prolonged, bloody war. 'Tis a home and safety that your people wish for, not just their old lands reclaimed. Please, please, for love of peace, give your people a home. A -safe- home. Prithee, M'lord, keep your heart open the the possibility of new lands; safe lands, and you shall have allies to help you rebuild.

    Hope: That... is all I ask of you. That you consider the way of peace, if... if we find a place.

    Havon: Find me a safe place so settle my people whose daughters and sons and fathers and mothers and uncles are imprisoned in their own homes, Hope. And I will consider using the land. A safe and fertile, farmable place.

    Hope: I search as best I can, M'lord. Both for a new land and a way to see your people free; of that you have my solemn vow.

    Havon: I am glad.</hakon>

    After a few more words the pair part ways. He gives the priestess some gold for supplies which she buys at market, whose prices have climbed disturbingly high from scarcity, and takes them to the refugees at the theater. With them she brings her message: that the reclamation of their lands would likely lead only to more blood still; a cycle of violence unending. She speaks of new lands and fresh starts - a message of peace which is a comfort to many, particularly the common folk who have spent a long time without a proper home, but one sure to be reviled by those of Norwick's warriors who will be satisfied by nothing less than the reclamation of their ancestral lands.

    ((Hope's persuade check: 19 - Havon's: 38 ))
    ((200 gold trashed for supplies))