The Barony Folketh
(Mery, Modri, Merituuli, Jarnathan and Other Vogler Elders)
On 10/12/2023 at 3:17 PM, tbgg said:Mery steps up next to the 'representative' farmer and pulls him to the side, a short way away from where Modri and the Cap are fighting. Hands empty and manner relaxed, she says, "All the questions you ask are more than reasonable, but the whole thing is kind of a long story. Let me give you the highlights, then let's let Modri and your Cappy fight, then afterward, I'll try and answer whatever additional questions you might have."
On 10/13/2023 at 9:03 AM, PhoenixSlayer said:Fearing that she may be misunderstanding the mood and could be stabbed by a pitchfork at any moment for even approaching, Merituuli follows closely behind, keeping a watchful eye on the gathered men. He does shoot a quick glance and grin over to Booker, saying, "Good observations. Maybe we can settle things down here and have a nice talk?"
“Stay back!” the man says. “State your peace over there, loud ’n’ clear, so’s everyone can hear!! Once Cap’s done with yer dwarf friend, you can get off this land!”
A number of arrows get nocked, and pitchforks raised.
On 10/12/2023 at 3:17 PM, tbgg said:"About 3 years ago, Lord Michael and Michelle were forced to join this army of Takhisis that showed up where they were living in exile, and then promptly separated into different fighting groups. A year or so ago, Lord Michael passed away when his group was sent to invade Elven lands. The group that Lady Michelle was in currently has plans to invade Kalaman, and in fact, if it weren't for my group - Modri, the Sea Elf here with us, 4 others inside the city, and me - interfering with their plans for a small fishing village called Vogler about 30 miles up the Vingaard River from here, that army would be invading Kalaman as we speak. All we managed to do was buy some time - they still have their sights set on invading this city. During our time in Vogler, the army judged Lady Michelle as worthy of death due to her unwillingness to compromise her honor and she is currently with two of my group in the city warning the city's leaders of that army's plans for Kalaman. I believe she will be sharing what she knows of them from her time serving them, and this need to help start the defense of the city is why she's not here right now."
"As for proof, we know that Lord Michael hid proof of the family's identity within the city, and Lady Michelle has charged me personally with retrieving it - I just haven't done so yet due to the need to start on another task she authorized - the one that has brought us here beyond just telling you about her return. If you mean proof that what I am saying is true, then I don't have anything like that, but I expect we can probably arrange something that will satisfy you."
"There's a bit more to this story and why we're here, but this is a beginning."
“Lord Michel’s Dead!?” someone cried out, shocked.
“Mimi’s back!?” another one shouts, a hopeful tone. “Who’d want li’l Mimi dead?! What kin’na bastards would want that?!”
“Button’s back!?” another cry! “She’s gonna set things to rights, then?”
“Stevren Ferroe’s dead, so I guess Mimi ain’t gotta worry about that contract no more, so it’s natural she’d come back.”
“Who could possibly want Button dead?!”
“It’s ‘Lady Michelle’ ’r ‘the Young Lady’, you idiots! Stop callin’er ‘Mimi’ ’n’ ‘Button’! F’r all y’know, she’s hidin’ under the guise o’ one o’ them old farts over there quiverin’ behin’ blue-man! She’d be so disappointed with how the barony’s been kept . . .”
“Herder, the only one who’d be hidin’ under the guise of one o’ them old farts is you. And for someone who’s always bitchin’ about the walls, why don’t you ever fix’em since you’re the only one who ever goes out there with the sheep?”
“I’m a shepherd, not a stone mason, Steward!” the man called ‘Herder’ bit back. “And ain’t overseein’ upkeep yer job, anyways?”
“Yeah, well, shuddup, Herder! ’N’ you know Mimi’d be like, 23, now, right? She ain’ no ‘Young Lady’! She’s pro’lly comin’ere with a husband ’n’ a kid or three!” the ‘representative’ named ‘Steward’ shouts back at the other man. He turns back to Mery and says, “A’ight, so lessay we belives you that Mimi’s over at the Keep, tellin’em’bout this army comin’. An’ lessay we believes you ’bout the proof that it is in fact Mimi and not some imposter is hidden in the City. Who the hell’er those old quiverin’ farts behind’ja? . . . ’N’ jus’ta be sure . . . She ain’ hidin’ unner none’a them ol’ men cloaks, is she?”
As they watch Cap fight and fail two-thirds of the time with Modri, their confidence begins to ebb.
Finally, Steward turns to Booker. “Booker, go take the ol’ farts up to the big house and serve’m some tea or some’in before they shit’emselves ’r fall over in a stiff breeze. You can take the elf-lady here, ’n’ blue-man, too. I wanna finish watchin’ this fight.”
“Y-yessir,” Booker says before motioning for Mery, Merituuli, and the village elders of Vogler to follow him.
It’s a slight hill to climb, but once you’re sufficiently away from the noise, Booker relaxes a bit and turns towards you, walking backwards towards the house. “So, is the Young Lady really with you? I really hope so. I’ve missed her so much. I’m not so useful on the farm, but because the books don’t really need doing like they used to—oh, sorry, I’m Sam, Sam Booker—my family’s been keeping the books for the Folketh’s for generations—anyway, I’m expected to help out where I can. The Young Lady and I used to spend hours reading or studying in the library. . .” his face grows dark, “Until her traitor of a mother ran off with that thrice damned Ferroe and started all that mess . . . then The Young Lady and Lord Michel had to leave . . .”
“Anyway, so, Mr. Elf from Dimernesti, I’ve always wanted to travel and see such exotic places! I’ve read all about them. Esepcially the Elven lands . . . I’d so love to see Qualinesti, Dimernesti, and Silvanesti!”
Booker babbles on until he leads you to a grand dining room. A couple of maids in their 50s each carries a tray of tea-cups and a few tea pots.
Eventually, he takes a seat and an older gentleman who bears a resemblance to Steward plods in on a cane. “I hope Bastion hasn’t given you too hard a time,” he says, “We’ve had no less than three different baronets attempt to start taking this land thinking the Folkeths won’t ever return. My son’s been jumpy lately ’cause of it. I’m Sebston, by the way. Sebston Steward. My family’s been the Stewards and Majordomos of the House Folketh for generations. I’m sure you’ve heard a couple of other names like Herder, Cooper, Cobbler, Viner, and the like. They’ll all tell you the same thing: ‘My family’s been the XYZ of House Folketh for generations.’ Well, we all have.”
“The latest—and most persistent—are those Duskridges. We’re all getting older, here, and getting by, but without the Lord here to run things and make legal decisions, we’re kind of in limbo. Fortunately, the Marquess and Lord Michel go back a long ways, and Count Lybridge—he’s the one who oversees Folketh, Duskridge, and a few others—doesn’t let them get by with their incursions once we let him know about it . . . well, the others stopped. The Duskridges seem determined—maybe they think Count Lybridge will just shrug and let sleeping dogs lie once they’ve taken control? He he he . . . if I know Lybridge, I know he won’t! Stubborn old coot!” He pauses and wisfully adds, “I think he’s holding out hope, like all of us, here. Once the last of the Ferroes was killed—that shitstain Stevren found choked on his own vomit outside a bar in Kalaman a few years ago—we figured they’d come back.”
“Alright, so I’ve been told a few things, but could you explain?” he asks Mery. “Something about Lord Michel and Lady Michelle being forced to join some army . . . the proof of her liniage . . . and now we’ve got what appears to be a delegation of elders, here . . . so, what’s going on?”