RP:Calm Before the Snowstorm

Part of the The Ice Plague Cometh Arc

Frostmaw

Frostmaw Fort

Hildegarde had never really dealt with a diplomatic situation before, she was a knight; a task-master; a commander of an army and sworn-sword to the nobility of Frostmaw. Dealing with diplomats sent a chill down her spine that the cold of Frostmaw couldn't achieve, it sent a fear in her that she only faintly knew. How did one deal with a prominent figure? How did one treat them? Satoshi and Kirien were very different from most nobility, different from how any story or piece of history could have ever taught her. So, with a sigh, the knight had brought herself to the main hall of the fort, bedecked in her finest armour with the cloak freshly cleaned. Not one to stand around idly, the knight quickly found something to occupy herself with: her troops. "Drargon has been told about our oncoming guests, he will have prepared food and drink for them. The barracks have also been prepared for them, as has a room here in the fort for their commander," she was duly informed by a guard. The knight seemed to nod along in confirmation, listening carefully to what he had to say. "That is all well and good," she replied with a smile, "but see to it that they have had thicker quilts fitted in their barracks. We are thick-skinned and the cold is our ally, not theirs." With a nod, he stepped back as if to relay the orders to someone else or very well go and attend to it himself. The Silver adjusted her leather eyepatch, hoping she would avoid accidentally offending the black dragon.

Tristram had sent a note just before he left Gualon, asking for permission from the Eyrie to enter Frostmawian air space. It was granted, and soon he was circling over the fort twice before he landed behind a large snow bank -- alone. Five minutes later, a man emerged, dressed in his typical fashion, though perhaps not appropriately for the plunging temperatures of Frostmaw. When he was escorted into the fort, he was blowing into his hands to try and work some feeling back into them. He'd forgotten just how cold the snowy climate could be. He was escorted to Hildegarde, and he flashed her an easy smile along with a quick bow. "Captain. Tristram. I believe we've been corresponding as of late, yeah?" He fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a thin cigarette case. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth, but before lighting it, he asked, "Mind if I smoke? It's freezing out there."

Hildegarde offered a steep bow of her own to Tristram, "M'lord," she offered in way of greeting. "Indeed, we have," she smiled, "but you may call me Hildegarde." While quite insistent in dubbing someone lord or lady, the knight herself didn't particularly enjoy being addressed with titles, lest she was addressing soldiers. "By all means," she said, assenting to his smoking habit. "As I was saying to a troop of mine, we have set up barracks for your men and we have set up some private quarters here for you, should you wish it." After a few moments, the knight offered a nervous smile, "I have little experience with diplomats, m'lord, so please forgive any… deficiencies."

Tristram lit the cigarette and snapped the lighter closed, which he returned to his pocket. "Sure, Hildegarde, so long as you call me Tristram." He gestured for her to lead the way. "I'd like to see the quarters for my orcs. They are all fighters, warriors through and through, but most of them have never been this far north, so you understand my concern. They'll fight until their limbs fall off … but I'd rather them not, you know? Will you be commanding them personally?"

Hildegarde straightened some, as if a bit unsure what to make of his words! "Very well, Tristram," she said, offering a smile. "The quarters for your men are at our arena," she said softly, "below the fighting ring, of course. It is well insulated there and we have many other soldiers residing there, from giants to elves. You are most welcome to see it, but I would first like to give you a cloak, if you would accept such. We may have our scales, but the bitter cold of Frostmaw can be harsh and unforgiving, as you know." That said, the knight smiled, "Of course. I would rather suffer than have my men suffer on my behalf, so I can understand that. The choice is yours, however. They are your contingent of men, you are welcome to command them. I believe they would take orders better from you, at least, given that they know you and are already under your command."

Tristram nodded to Hildegarde, yielding to her discretion concerning the cloak, secretively quite grateful for it. It was damn cold. "I am more than willing to command them. But I'd need to meet with your strategist, in that case, to determine where they would do the most good to your … our cause." He took a drag from his cigarette, a long inhalation that made him squint before exhaling again. "The next order of business is furs for my orcs. I know a talented seamstress whom I intend to commission to outfit the furs to the orcs' armor. I don't want to distract from the effort here. This task can be completed in Gualon so long as I have the necessary supplies."

Hildegarde turned her back to Tristram, walking a small distance away to fetch a reasonably sized cloak for the man. There was many hanging for use, as if the fort anticipated many visitors from warmer climates. "You are speaking to the strategist," she said gently, turning with a cloak in hand for him. "I shall escort you to our war room when you are quite ready, it is our centre of strategy. Myself, the Queensguard, notable warriors of the city and elder warriors make up our tacticians. The Queen has been occupied with the ruins, so strategy falls to me." The knight felt it necessary to add, "In the spirit of Frostmaw's patron god, we are harsh in our tactics. Hit hard and do not relent," she said. "As I am fond of saying, Frostmaw is unyielding." But she nods at his mention of a seamstress, "I understand. There are some winter wolves roaming in the wilds, we can send hunters to fetch some pelts. But we cannot reap many of them, the exiles have already done as much. They take the wolves to train or abuse into behaviour against us or use them as we would: food and fur."

Tristram waited for Hildegarde to return and he reached out to accept the cloak, which he quickly pulled around his shoulders. "Ah, excellent," he answered, in response to her identification of the lead tacticians. It would make commanding his orcs a great deal easier, having a line of direct communication open to those individuals, namely Hildegarde. "Hit hard and do not relent is a strategy my orcs understand very well. In fact, I am hard-pressed to get them to do anything but. As for your furs … as I was flying overhead, I noticed some large animals, behemoths. Perhaps you would permit me to hunt a few of those. I could harvest the pelts, and the meat could feed my army for at least a few days." He fell into step beside Hildegarde, presuming they were now ready to see the barracks where his orcs would be housed.

Hildegarde grinned at his remark, "Then they will fit in very well here at Frostmaw!" This was obvious, given that the giants liked a challenge, they loved combat. Anything that was considered pleasing to Aramoth was something they were happy to indulge in, war was one such thing. "The mammoths," she said quietly and seriously, "they are our main source of food and fur in these lands, we have been hard pressed to protect them during the poisoning of our lake. Since we have restored our water to its former glory, though, they are much better. I would permit you to hunt them, but only take what you need. I imagine you won't hunt to excess, but it doesn't hurt to say as much. I would emphasise that you do not hunt the younglings or any of the mammoths who are bearing young. They will be important to Frostmaw's future, after all," she smiled. Heading off towards the door, the knight prepared to escort Tristram to the arena. "So! You and Satoshi are friends..?" she asked, obviously attempting to strike up a casual yet related conversation.

Tristram walked with Hildegarde to the door, and he pulled in another long drag of his cigarette before lifting his shoe to ash it. He stuck the butt back in his tin of cigarettes, snapped it closed, and returned it to his pocket. "I'll abide by these precepts. I'll try to keep an eye on any that are already sickly, and weed those out, so your herd is able to rebuild from good stock." He took a deep breath as he prepared to go outside and pulled the cloak closer around his person. His stomping grounds were, and almost always had been the humid swamps of Gualon; the weather here felt like an enemy, trying to rob him of his life force. He could only imagine how his orcs were going to cope. "Satoshi and I …" He turned to glance at Hildegarde as they ventured out, and he smiled at her. "I would say so, yes. She did me a great service once. I intend to repay that favor to the fullest extent that I can."

Frostmaw Arena

Hildegarde noted his behaviour with the cigarette, glad he hadn't thrown it to the ground for someone else to find or clear away. It would have probably been lost in the snow outside, but to put it away seemed respectful to her and she appreciated that. She led the way to the arena, chatting quietly as she went. "I see. Well, I imagine your favour is already repaid in helping us so. Your men will be invaluable for this battle," she said gratefully. "I have seen the enemy forces," she said in a far more solemn tone, "and I am glad for every scrap of help we can get." The knight stepped into the arena with a great sense of familiarity, it was a place she had been often for training, sparring and for some peace and quiet. "The barracks are below," she said, gesturing to a set of steps on the other side of the arena. "As you can see, this is wide enough for more than a few dragons to rest here, which is convenient for the Eyrie. We have one resident mammoth here, Bulli, for fighting. He is, so far, our animal champion." She had seen how he skewered wolves with ease, even going so far as to knowingly fling them in Satoshi's direction. "But the barracks below are fit for warriors. It is insulated down there and will be comfortable," she spoke from experience.

Tristram nodded at appropriate moments in Hildegarde's description of the arena, and what lie below its surface. He gestured for permission to go downstairs, wanting to see those barracks for himself. He walked around the area that would house his orcs, inspecting the premises -- not for luxury, by any means, but for warmth, shelter from the weather, a place for them to wait out those long hours before a battle. He returned to the arena proper and nodded to Hildegarde. "This is more than sufficient. Thank you, Captain." A beat. "Hildegarde." He looked around the arena again, marking its location. "Very satisfactory. I'll see to the pelts now and ready the army. I'll return to the fort shortly, as I'd like to be on hand for the strategizing if at all possible."

Hildegarde dipped her head at Tristram's gesture, obviously more than happy for him to check out the barracks below ground. She would allow him to inspect it alone, not wishing him to believe she was hiding something in the barracks or wishing to warp his view of it. She wanted him to see it for what it was: a functional area of living, insulated and with shamans nearby for any healing or care necessary. It was considerably warmer than the open air of the arena, she had been honest about insulation. "I am pleased you find it suitable, m'lord." She mirrored him with a smile, "Tristram," obviously hoping he would see the friendly nature of it. "Of course. I shall await your return at the fort. Good hunting to you."

Tristram offered Hildegarde a quick grin at her 'lord' business, since she gave as good as she got, and he could appreciate that in a person. "Thanks. I'll be brief and keep my hunting as minimal as possible." He extended his hand to Hildegarde. "I look forward to hearing your strategy, Hildegarde, and fighting alongside you." He offered her a playful two-fingered salute and let her walk him outside again, before disappearing into the snow drifts, and then the skies above.