RP:Duelling Words

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc

Summary: Leone attempts to hold court within Frostmaw and attend to the affairs of state, but with Hildegarde's untimely death the realm is falling into unrest. The giants gather like a pack of wolves and it's clear to see that sides are already beginning to form. Balgruuf the Bloody Beard, a giant of good renown within Frostmaw, appears to have his eye on the throne or at least a spot on the council. He claims he will host the Titans of Winter tournament this year and will be offering up a ridiculous sum of gold as a prize. The giants are awed by this offer and overwhelmed. Leone understands that this giant is one to watch and if she is to have any chance in bringing Hildegarde back, she must act soon.

Frozen Throne

Leone is here for the normal affairs of state, being the last remaining council member. In spite of Frostmaw's less than stable political atmosphere lately, the farrier does try to carry on with catering to the citizens of the realm. Someone must hold the kingdom together in Hildegarde's absence, and truth be told, the High Priestess is doing a poor job of it. She is mustering, finding allies in strange places (like Master Smith Gikal), and enemies in familiar ones. None the less, holding court to solve common problems of state, squabbles between neighbors, and small infractions of the law.

The court would no doubt be an interesting place for any courtier at the moment. With the death of Hildegarde and continued absence of Queen Satoshi, there was no real heir to the throne. The crown prince, Kirien, was long gone and presumed dead. Kasyr, the once known King of Vampires, was but the crown consort and held no true office here in Frostmaw. The line of ascension was currently quite broken and unclear and that was certainly a source for unrest in Frostmaw where only the strongest may rule. Many giants had made their way to the fort, most of them older giants and clearly the heads of family. A few stood together talking quietly, eyeing the others with unmasked dislike or with a quiet suspicion. Blood feuds ran deep in Frostmaw, though few ever acted upon them these days. “I wonder if there shall be a feast for these esteemed guests here. Were it I, I would have laid out a banquet for all my mighty fellow warriors here… Yet I can’t seem to find any decent food. All this Elvish nonsense. Leaves and slivers of meat.” The giant who spoke looked well dressed, bedecked in furs and boiled leather and chainmail. His arm was covered in golden rings, even little golden ringlets decorated his beard. He was certainly wealthy. And powerful.

Leone has done her best to ignore the gathering of Giants and their posturing for apparent position. She is not unfamiliar to the look of a pack of wolves set to encircle prey - particularly in a political arena. The farrier's keen, green sights slide across the fort's stone floor to land upon the well-to-do giant who has spoken up. She sniffs, drawing in breath while her gaze returns to the lower class citizen before her. The plover's vision stalls upon the man directly in front of her before swinging back to the Frost Giant of note. "It would make a poor showing," the metallurgist speaks up, directing the notes of velvet and sand to the destitute one before her, "Since you are here to request help and cannot acquire enough food to feed your family, if I were to lay out a banquet for the duration of holding court, don't you think?" A kindly smile is presented to the man in question before the petite plover pronounces, "We have a fair amount left in the larders of the Fort, and will be glad to share. In the meantime, renewed supplies from Xalious are promised, and should be here within the week. With the absence of the Prime Hunter, and the scattering of the remaining ranger forces, we are lacking in regional supplies, though I intend to organize a hunting party to rememdy this issue."

The giant of note turned to listen as Leone spoke to the destitute one before her. “I think it would make a good show to put on food,” he said loudly, “to help feed these less fortunate souls,” he announced as he approached Leone and the destitute one; his strong hand extending outward to help the destitute one to his feet. “I will find you work, lad. You’ll never be hungry so long as Balgruuf the Bloody Beard has anything to say about it!” he near enough roared the words, earning himself a few laughs and noises of agreement from the pack of giants he had just departed from. His gaze turns to Leone once again, his hand squeezing the shoulder of the destitute man. His smile is smarmy; the type of smile that only Leone is going to see because it’s definitely one of those blink and miss it type smiles. “Aye, this Prime Hunter who betrayed our people and led them to harm, led them to their deaths. This is what happens when we let outsiders determine our laws and determine how we ought to go about our business. Do include me in that hunting party, priestess,” there is emphasis on ‘priestess’ as if he did not truly respect her position in Frostmaw, “I’d love to take down a mammoth and provide for my country. Besides… It’s no fun being a wealthy merchant, har har!”

Leone is stoic, reserved even, in the face of the grime and grease oozing out of the oily Giant's every pore. His personality is like crude petroleum laid atop pristine water, and it causes the farrier's spine to stiffen. "Ah wonderful," the plover declares, her head bowing in regard to the giant's spoken words, "I am so glad you have volunteered. But I disagree about laying out a feast. It needs to be distributed to those with the greatest need - those who are starving and have no other means of acquiring food. If you would be interested in adding your support to feeding the less fortunate in ways other than the hunt - since you are a wealthy merchant...and warrior? Hmm," the plover enunciates with a particularly staccato rhythm until the last syllable is drawn out, "Then your contributions are most welcome. The Queensguard - Mikael and Lisbeth - will accept donations and hand out the provisions from the Colosseum starting tomorrow morning. I look forward to seeing your contribution, Sir." The final word is punctuated, implying that though the High Priestess recognizes the Frost Giant's boisterous and braggadocious nature, she does not know who he is.

Balgruuf’s blonde yet speckled with grey eyebrows furrow at Leone’s continued disagreement regarding the feast. “But, priestess, by laying out a feast you can surely invite all to the fort to come eat and celebrate our Steward as they remember her? I suppose a human cannot be expected to understand our ways… but yes! I’ll be glad to support you, though age has taken away my warring days, it has given me the time to accumulate wealth which I would happily throw to the people in order to make Frostmaw great and strong once again.” With a pat to the back, the destitute man departs from the company of Leone and Balgruuf, leaving them to talk openly under the watchful eyes of the court. “The Colosseum is no place for charity,” he harrumphed, “it is harsh place of bloodshed, a place that is sacred to Aramoth!” he reasoned, his face seeming angry for only a brief moment before he offered the priestess a splendid smile and turned on his heel to speak to those gathered in the fort. “I will host our Titans of Winter tournament! Sixty five thousand golden coins to the winner!” Of course, gold talks and the people are lost in the excitement of this ridiculous amount of money! They scream, yell, roar and laugh with delight; some even come forward to clap Balgruuf on the shoulder and praise his generosity.

Leone gives Balgruff a hedged-in smile. "The Fort is not centrally located in the city, and served as the last point of attack from the interloping forces. Our citizens are already on edge, mourning, and suffering, I cannot think of anything more disrespectful than to ask them to return to the scene of a crime that has yet to be fully dealt with. I would not associate a feast honoring the fallen Steward with a charitable gesture, since the two are separate events and deserve their own focus. Once the population is again hale, and our warriors able to leave the ramparts in order to honor their beloved Silver, then a proper wake will be held," the cleric answers in return, "But even Aramoth feeds and waters his warriors in his halls while awaiting the next battle. The Colosseum used in this manner is not objectionable to Aramoth's ways. In fact, he would see this as quite befitting." The Frost Giant's announcement of the Titans of Winter earns a sigh from the farrier, as well as pursed lips. "You decry outsiders and their involvement in Frostmaw," she observes patiently, "So are you going to ban them from a tournament that has traditonally included them? Or even as you speak of barring their involvement in the community, do you invite them in to participate?"

“You would not associate charity with our beloved Steward?!” he retorted with visible outrage – although it was quite dramatic and evidently feigned – before shaking his head and taking a step away from Leone. “I am wounded by your words, priestess. You think cruelly of me for only wanting to protect my people and protect my city,” he said, “and you wound my honour deeply.” He shook his head, finding some solace in the murmurs of agreement from the giants around him. “The Titans of Winter is open to all, of course. I have not said any such words to say outsiders are welcome… I only said that when outsiders change our ways and change our laws, it can lead to unexpected outcomes. I am but an old warrior, priestess, I have known Frostmaw long before you or the Steward ever did. Forgive me for yearning for times of peace and solitude, forgive me for wanting some calm in this city rocked by war and death. Even the strongest of warriors must heal and rest.”

Leone smirks openly at the overacting Giant. "I would associate her with her most highly regarded contribution to Frostmaw, as it should be, and that was not charity. No, charity is not Hildegarde's legacy; her legacy is honor and strength. The Steward should be remembered not through a hand-out, as that is not how she lived. Do not mistake me: the Stormbringer was generous and kind, to be sure, but she was much more than that, and her wake should exemplify all that she was and everything that she stood for." The plover purses her lips and shakes her head at the strutting Giant. "Those who have come in have made an effort to get to know Frostmaw's traditions, to assimilate into the laws and history of the realm. No, we have not been here as long as you. We were not born here - we choose to be here. Our love for these lands was not instilled through birthright, but inspired by the people and the passions of the kingdom. We have given our hearts and souls not to an inhospitable land, but a warm and welcoming citizenry. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," the clergywoman quips, her lips pressing together afterward, "And not all who are battle-tested are wield a blade or bludgeon."

Balgruuf sneered at Leone. The priestess was proving to be a difficult one. “I will be there at the wake,” he assured the priestess, “but I had best take my leave of this fort. I have to prepare for the tournament, don’t I? And find a job for that lad!” he laughed again, dismissing himself from Leone’s presence and back into the company of his friends.

Leone beckons the nearby Mikael to her, the limpid, peridot gaze never leaving the retreating giant except to flicker amongst the friends he seeks company among. Once the Queensguard is in close proximity, the bantam blacksmith leans up to whisper in his ear. "I need to know everything about him and his friends," she entreats without gesturing to the party of which she speaks, "As quickly as you can give me a report. You'll find me in the smithy; I see now that I shall have to work around the clock, for there is dissention afoot." The comments will be left at that, and the High Priestess waits until the throne room has cleared out before making her own way to the fort's forge.