RP:For The Homeland

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: The elves remain dissatisfied with their position of exile. One, Jamendithas, approaches Steward Hildegarde to vent his frustrations and . As she did to those who came before him, Hildegarde expresses her worries regarding war and advises caution. Jamendithas seems swayed by her counsel.

Frostmaw Tavern

Hildegarde clasped her hand around Mistral’s leather bound forearm in the traditional warrior’s handshake, offering her a winning smile and enthusiastic nod of the head. “You’ve done well, Mistral,” she commended the elf and Master Scout of the Eyrie, “and I thank you for that. I trust that you will find the time to visit the mess hall in the fort and see that you get yourself a warm and hearty meal. You have worked tirelessly, as always, and you ought to get some rest.” When the elf opened her mouth as if to protest, the knight simply interjected, “Besides! If you are constantly taking up all these duties, I will have no training left for our initiates,” she smiled, earning a small smile and gentle nod in reply from the elf. Relinquishing their grip upon one another, the elf turned and made her way off to the Fort, leaving Hildegarde to content herself in the tavern with some stew.

Jamendithas enters the tavern just as the the she-elf was taking her leave. The group of rangers have just returned from a mission themselves, driving back renegade frost giants in the north west. Mistral gets a few whistles and cat calls, all to which she pays no mind. The scouts were vital assets in any mission, as eyes in the skies always helped keep them one step ahead of the always dangerous renegade bands of outcasts. Now everyone was going to enjoy a well earned break, filled with ale and food and song, until their duties call upon them once more. All seem merry and content with their lives. All except Jamendithas. A grim look plays upon his hardend features, and he stands aside from the rest of the group, even though he earned the right to free drinks for felling the biggest renegade this day. But no offer of meade, food or women seems to sway the elf, now erase a near scowl he wears as a mask as of late. Something was clearly bothering him.

Hildegarde, unlike Mistral, is unable to ignore the catcalls and whistles, raising her voice to be heard above the group of elves: “You will treat the Master Scout with respect!” she commanded, knowing full well that while the rangers had been hard at work, they fell under her command at the end of the day. To serve Frostmaw was to serve Hildegarde and she would not tolerate such a lack of honour and respect amongst any who fell under the command of Frostmaw. Indeed, their lack of respect for Mistral is enough to send the Steward to the opposite end of the tavern: escaping the nearby warmth of the hearth and Aodhan’s efforts.

Jamendithas shoots a glare towards the dumbass members of the ranger party that has now raised the ire of the Steward. The fact his skill with both bow and blade has now gone beyond their own skill level, the motley crew find themselves pinned between the most experienced member of their party, and a seemingly pissed off steward. And it is here that Jamen displays his ever growing cold nature, and he leaves those responsible to the wrath of the Silver Knight. Of course, he stays should she wish to speak to them as a whole, but otherwise he lets them get what they deserve for acting like children. Besides, he had other matters upon his mind that nag at him still.

Hildegarde, with her unmistakably irritated tone of voice, has caused silence to fall upon the tavern. Even the giants who sit here, soldier and citizen alike, have fallen quiet and still: eyes glued upon the Steward as they wondered what she would do. Surely, she would not simply walk away and leave the men undisciplined? Indeed, she does not. It is not enough to simply command something and not follow through with a motion; she cannot set an example for others if she does not make an example out of the few. “There is to be no food nor ale for you,” she said, deciding to take a few steps towards them once again. Each step caused a clank and a tap, the clank of mithril armour and the tap of her halberd against the floor as she grew ever closer. It was almost a rhythmic sound. “You will leave the tavern. You will freshen your water supply and your field supplies. You will go out and you will scout the western fringes and you will all formally apologise to the Master Scout of the Eyrie,” she told them icily, her sole eye moving across the group so they would each bear the weight of her angered stare. “If I catch you acting towards women again without respect, I will challenge you formally to a fight and should you lose… I will geld you before a crowd. Respect women,” she warned them coldly. “Get out of my sight,” she bade them, before nodding in the direction of Jamendithas, “You will stay. You did not engage in the same behaviour as your group, but I anticipate a report of your activities in the west.”

Jamendithas watches as his counterparts exit upon command of the Steward, shaking his head lightly as they do. In the time the elves have been in frostmaw, they knew better than that. And recently, due to the actions of some, many left, and those who stayed behind have had a keen eye upon the group as a whole in case anymore naysayers and blowhards would try to bite the hand that has fed them. The ranger is a soldier now. He has given his vow to serve, and has trained day and night to become the best in his field. He has a way to go, but his drive to master his craft has ensured he knows the landscape liek the back of his hand. Rangers are not all bows and arrows. As she addresses him, Jamen goes into a formal military position, and renders a salute as he goes into detailing their mission. " As ordered, we scouted the western perimeter on the ground, making sure no one trespassed further than they needed, while making sure renegade didn't not encroach further than before. " Pausing, he continues. " Two days in, everything was fine, but after tracking a pack of winter wolves that were hunting travelers, and redirecting them away. " The elves did not outright kill many of the predatory animals in the realm. " We came upon a small band of exiles. Luckily Djitiir and his band were nearby, so we sent a hawk to inform our warriors, while we continued to watch the exiles and their movements." Again a pause, so she can keep up, and he can catch a breath real quick. " The exiles seemed to be looking for something. And were like a dog on the scent, half the time running further and further into our borders. We stalked them for miles, and even slowed them down a bit, before Djitiir and his band got there. Coordinating an outer cordon, we surrounded the band, while Djitiir's men swept in. Should have been an easy battle. But these exiles were experienced fighters. A battle raged on for a while, but I managed a lucky shot to their leader. " He'd never boast and tell them he shot him right in the eye. " And Djitiir finished him off with a clean blow. Some fled, but your giants killed the rest. " Allowing another moment, he says. " No casualties on our end. A few wounds that will leave a scar worthy of tale. Afterwards, we pressed on, and tried to track the exiles path to where they came from, but the snow had already fallen, and our supplies were running low. " Looking back to out there door, where his crew just went, he adds. " The men fought hard, and were just glad to be back. They lost themselves for a moment, and they shall not again, Steward." Even if he had something troubling on his mind, his crew was his family. They've all fought together for a while now. He wouldn't leave them out to dry, even if they deserved it a little.

Hildegarde listened to the report in silence, not bothering to interrupt nor wave away the salute as she would much prefer to do. The woman listened to the detailed report, occasionally frowning here and there at certain details. “I understand what it is like to return after a campaign or a long patrol,” she conceded, “but it does not mean you should allow your honour to lapse or so openly disrespect a woman. Mistral does a great service for Frostmaw and I will not see her disrespected,” she said firmly. “Your men can return in an hour or so, but I expect them to apologise to Mistral.” The Silver paused for a time before adding, “You said the exiles were searching for something. That is interesting,” she said, “and I expect watchful eyes on the location they were seemingly searching.” That business concluded, the woman finally looked the elf over and asked, “What is your name? Why did you not involve yourself in the activities of your men?”

Jamendithas inclines his head as he assumes a more comfortable position of attention, with his hands behind his back before he says. " Lude behavior has no excuse, and they will make amends." He wasn't the leader of the party, that was Lythir. A relatively young elf, like Jamen, but one of the first to serve openly. Always eager to please, he was always volunteering the group into messes Jamen and the others had to dig him out of. He continues the conversation with. " My name is Jamendithas Greenleaf." He is caught unprepared to answer her last question, but he answers truthfully. " I've received word that a champion has arisen to try to avenge my people, but.." The troubled look comes back again. " This leaves me with many troubles. We are spread out, strife among ourselves has left us weak, and even if this champion, as noble as his cause is, acts against the drow, I fear my people will suffer more, even if they do nothing. As one drow has posted already, wood elf blood will be spilled because of another's actions. And.." He seems conflicted by his own thoughts. " I wish nothing more than to fight the drow. To once more walk openly in the Forest that is my home. But we've no leader. No true army, and worst yet no spirit within our collected selves to accomplish such a task... so I am troubled.. and so. " He looks Hilde right in the eye. " So I train. And I try to better myself, so I can serve the place that is my home, but so I can be ready if I need to defend my people against drow-aggression again. And with the Patron Kuzial often coming here, I do not wish to see our blood fued bring war here, as many of my people have already tarnished the relationship with many here...it is much to ponder.. Steward, and I mean not to trouble you with my own petty thoughts.."

Hildegarde listened once again in silence to what Jamendithas had to say. “See to it that the leader of your group speaks to me,” she told him, “for any respectable leader would not allow his men to behave in such a way,” her disappointment is evident and she had no tolerance for lewd behaviour that was unwanted. Hildegarde had heard a little of the rabble on the boards, how the aggression between elves and the drow had stirred once again and would presumably lead to conflict. “I have been approached before by Elves, asking about this conflict between your people and the drow,” she explained, moving to a table and sitting down with a gentle sigh before gesturing at the seat opposite her for him to sit down and talk to her. “Well, you clearly wish to discuss your thoughts on the matter otherwise you would not tell me quite so much. So… speak freely. Ask what you will and say what you will.”

Jamendithas nods again as he says first. " I shall, Lythir will see you this day." Upon the offered seat, he takes it, glad to put his body somewhat at ease. He has been pushing himself beyond his own limits far too often, many times extending his scouting and venturing off into the more wilder parts of the tundra. " I.. I don't know what to do. I wish my people would fight for our homeland, but since Lady Liana's departure, we've been torn, arguing amongst ourselves over what is safe." He sighs. " I am not war mongerer. I do not wish to see my people die in needless conflict, but I would gladly shoot down and cut down as many drow as I could. But.." He shakes his head. " Then I know my death would not serve my people, and perhaps only strengthen the drows position. And with my people torn as they are, some here, some there, and now others like a half elf, Skylei I believe her name is, and now this Pelarin person, donning the mantle of champions, yet their own agenda to right a wrong, may cause suffering for my people, and just as worse, perhaps the forest itself. Its been so long since we've had a strong leader. Or even a strong sense of self, as a people, that another part of me says that it is no longer my place to worry about what factions of elves decide to do, as I serve, and with pride mind you, Frostmaw as a Ranger." He shakes his head, finishing with. " I'm just a mess..."

Hildegarde was an attentive conversational partner. She listened to Jammendithas and she did not offer any interruption or any words that might dissuade him from his current path of conversation. “And if you could have it your own way, what would you do? What would you wish to happen in order to reclaim the Sage Forest?” she asked, evidently curious about what he thinks could win back his home. “Do not worry about whether it is possible or not, just… tell me what it is you wish to happen and how you see it happening.”

Jamendithas said to Hildegarde, "None know that forest better than the wood elves. None -connect- with the forest the way wood elves do. If combat couldn't be avoided, we'd have to fight them. And after a few years of digging in, we'd have to rely upon our knowledge of the forest to win battle after battle, gaining ground inch by inch. I believe it would be a long and costly war. But, does ones home have a price? Is it better to live a homeless visitor to another land, never a part of your own homeland, for risk of pain or death? Or is it better to stand before your foes, and take back your home? I hear the whispers. I know how my people are viewed these days. And its our own fault. We lost our most sacred relics, and two champions to the Lichdrow. The Archdruid, Liana, left us. The battle druid Rikailin was defeated as well. It seems the drow hold all the advantages. Because our people refuse to ban together. Even if they did, truth be told we've made no allies. And unless we swarmed the forest before the drow houses could rally a force to match us, we'd have little options left but guerilla warfare." Jamendithas said to you, "Which is why I feel I am just troubled by things I cannot change. Until a strong leader presents themselves, I see no reason to abandon my post, or turn my back upon the Kingdom that has given me a new home. I will hone my skills, Steward, so I may defend this land and ensure nothing like what has befallen my people, ever happens here. On that, you have my word."

Hildegarde offered Jamendithas a little smile as he suggested protecting Frostmaw from a similar fate. “I’m sure you will,” she replied gently, before straightening her posture a little in her seat. “You talked a lot about battle and the price of reclaiming your home. I think you will not stay in Frostmaw… you will leave us when someone comes forward to try and reclaim your homeland,” she told him, “so do not make promises you cannot keep. Do not give your word to serve when you talk passionately about reclaiming the Sage Forest, otherwise it would be desertion,” she was giving him a way out, essentially. “I have been approached by many Elves before. Calling upon Frostmaw for aid, calling upon me for aid or what I would do.”

Jamendithas said to Hildegarde, "I'm sorry... I meant no disrespect, and desertion is below me. But I am aware of the ties Frostmaw has to Tiphareth. Pardon me for being blunt, but, I do not believe Satoshi will act against Tiphareth, due to ties in the mage's guild, as well as a kind of friendship with the Patron, Kuzial. Even if it is not a direct alliance, it is one that shows little promise for elven aid. Yet, truth be told, most haven't earned the right to dare even ask for such. War, as I know you are aware of, is a costly thing. From amassing a force that negates the need for single combat to decide the factor, would take so much time. Where, then, where would the elves get the supplies? Weapons. Armor. Bows. Arrows. It would take months to supply an army with decent equipment. Then scouting the forest, making plans, and all doing so in a manner that does not harm innocents? * he sighs* I feel, unless allies are forged, my people will not win. And who in the land will stand against the Archmage? He seems to have ties everywhere, even with Enchantment! The Pixie Queen let an arguement over a title allow her judgement on to give us aid or not sway her decision. Our neighbor for years long forgotten, shunned us over a title. The high elves? Laughable. The Warlord Eboric? He'd sooner make us his people, and make us swear fealty to him if we did so! We'd give up one tyrant for another. So all I see as I have left, is to repay my people's debt to Frostmaw, and serve as loyally as I can."

Hildegarde shook her head, “It is not disrespect, only my observation. It is hard to speak passionately about some place yet promise to stay in another,” she explained in a gentle tone of voice, “and it is not a promise I myself could make. I only advise you not to make promises you may not be able to keep, that is all,” she cautioned him. “Satoshi is not around, is she? In her stead, I am left to rule,” she explained in an assertive tone of voice; she had once shunned this role but now she embraced it. “Tiphareth and Satoshi are bonded through the Mages’ Guild, that is true, and there is friendship between Frostmaw and the Underdark because of this bond. But Frostmaw did not pick sides during the conflict in Sage: Frostmaw only opened its arms to refugees of either side, to those who had no desire to participate in the war. They were offered homes and food, shelter and comradeship here in my land,” she explained. “You all talk about reclaiming your land, but all you ever see is war. The Sylvan folk recall living peacefully in the forest, yet talk of reclaiming it in a bloodthirsty fashion. Even the notes upon the board denote an aggressive outlook; that you would only consider reclaiming it through violence rather than politics. Words can cut as deeply as blades, they can be as stalwart as shields and they can be used to act as a bridge between two peoples. War is not the way to go,” she said in a heartfelt manner. “If the Sylvan folk had the sense to have been calm and seek words over war, you would not be left thinking how to rally weapons and allies right now. Words upon bits of paper have raised the ire of the Drow and it will come to bloodshed again unless care is taken. You would think that a people as scattered as yours would be tired of war. Do not put your people through that again; do not scatter them again. There is still time to make peace and pull your minds together to find a suitable solution.”

Jamendithas said to you, "The drow will never give us our land back. Openly they mock us, attack us, even now words are what got us here. Lirithen and Landirion fought, after the words of the Archdruid raised Tiphareth's ire, and he acted on an age old blood fued that seems will never end. Words will not mend what was broken centuries ago. And it was the word of a non elf, who managed to raise threats against my people as a whole. The drow desire bloodshed. They thrive upon it. They live it everyday. Action is the only way the wood elves will ever reclaim sage. If you do not believe me, ask the Patron, Kuzial upon the matter. Tiphareth holds our most sacred relics. He beat us time and time again, he holds all the cards. Unless we found his phylactry, we'd never have grounds for even terms. He has the allies. He has the raw power. He has every advantage. I do not seek war, especially one I feel will only lead to far too many dead wood elves. Here, in Frostmaw you live war. Breath it. Worship it in many ways. Its second nature, and due to Frostmaw's power, allies and resources, no one would fight, so words do levy the tension most times. But, a beaten, broken people, with no allies and no resources have no means to barter for terms against their most hated enemy. I can seek out the ones pushing the drow with notes upon a board. But that will only leave the situation where it is. With the drow holding all the cards."

Hildegarde listened carefully, only raising her hand as Jamendithas suggested that Frostmaw worshipped war and found it to be second nature to her people. “There is a difference between warmongering and respecting the power of battle,” she retorted firmly. “My people have been through countless wars. We understand war. I have little love for war, I have seen what horrors it can bring and what it does to people; I have seen the kindest people become those capable of the most cruelty. In our culture, physical combat is an expression of one’s true self. A person may smile at you sweetly, but they’ll swing their blade to kill you or tease the flesh off your bones while you’re alive: combat is the truest expression of the self.” Her hand fell halfway through her miniature speech, listening once again to what Jamendithas had to say. He spoke of finding the phylactery, of old blood feuds and ancient relics that had been held in the hands of others. “You say you do not seek war, but you consistently mentioned how much you would love to send the Drow off, how much you would love to get your hands on a drow and enact revenge for your people. You are full of a bloodlust,” she observed calmly, “and the Drow have a knack for killing people. They are far superior in their ability of killing than your people appear to be. And yes, it is true, they hold all the cards but that does not mean you cannot petition for peace. War is brutal. It can be slow if you have equal power and supplies or it can be quick, if you or your opponent is far superior than the other. But for you, the Sylvan folk, you have no advantage here. You seem to know much of what occurred, but this is not a surprising thing… use the events of the past to determine what you will do in the future. Battle did not work for you before. Why would it work again? Peace is attainable if you work for it.”

Jamendithas said to Hildegarde, "Peace between the drow and wood elves isn't possible. If you do not believe me, ask the drow who walks freely in the land, Kuzial. He is a patron. He can tell you that peace is impossible. And any terms given would only make our people slaves. I presume I am to just accept the fact my people are weak, and cannot win, and just live my life knowing that. That our only option would be to to grovel at the feet of our most hated enemies? Would Frostmaw do such? Would you? The drow murder, kill and so as they please and give nothing back to the world. Their hearts are black as the skin there were cursed with. There is no goodness, as any sign of it is snuffed out. Or at best exiled. I will never kiss the boots of the lichdrow, or any matron mother. Landirion did that. He grovelled. He bent low and talked peace. It led to our exile, on pain of death. It led to the loss of our most sacred relics. It led to my people losing everything, to begging for a place to lay our children's heads. The entire realm didn't even bat an eye. No one cared then, and it does not surprise me now that no one cares again. Evil has been allowed to run free, and do as it pleases for years upon years. the Dread Lords. The Order of Darkness. The Ascendi. Overlords, Warlords, the parasite and his numeorus plots, and the realm has stayed still. Those in power doing as they please, while those not beg, and die without so much as a blink of the eye. And yet, because I wish to stand in fight, I am the blood lusted one? I should petition for peace? I see no peace. I see my people slaves under a matron's whip. Or corpses upon the ground. It saddens me, that a race so overly vile as the drow has such open views with the land, yet my people, who did not want a war, fought when they were forced to, are seemingly viewed as nothing... I am at a loss for words.."

Hildegarde shook her head, “I believe that peace is possible, though it would never be something easily attained. And yes, some people will believe it is impossible,” she gestures at Jamendithas, “and some will believe it to be possible. Either way, these opinions do not matter: the actions and the words of others do.” That said, she offered him a small smile, “If it meant sparing the lives of my people, then yes, I would grovel. If I knew I could not win the battle and that by fighting any more I would only result in killing my people; killing their children and their loved ones, then I would do anything within my power to prevent that fate: even if it meant posturing before someone else.” The Silver paused for a moment, adding gently, “Yes, he bent the knee. Yes, the relics of your people were taken but look at those who scattered and made a home here in Frostmaw. Are they not with family? Are they not able to make a life for themselves? Would you rather that they were slain in the Forest and all remnants of your people were destroyed for the sake of relics, pride or a location? It is hurtful. It must pain you and your folk in a way I cannot possibly imagine, but is not life better than the complete and utter extinction of your folk?”

Jamendithas said to Hildegarde, "ISo we round back to the beginning. I see no point in the conflict. I see no true winner, only death. And that is something that even with my utter hatred for drow, I would not want to see my people go through. It angers me, that my people are divided. My people are scattered. Our hated enemy holds all our sacred relics, and has dominion over our homeland. But we are alive. Yet other wish to stir up a fight, and of course drow come out in droves to hunt wood elves. Me and many have made a life here. We are content. But to ask me not to hate the drow for all they have done, is impossible. And I can say I will serve Frostmaw to the best of my abilities, because I see no real leader coming to rally my people. So I see no point engaging in the current strife."

Hildegarde offered an almost compassionate smile, “Hatred is like a toxin in the body. If you do not get rid of it, it will only serve to corrupt you. I am not saying you should not be angry or that you should not feel hurt over what has happened. Only that you should not let your hatred of the drow define who you are or what you do with your life,” she suggested gently. “If a leader comes for your people and you then engage in the strife, you do so on your own; not as a part of Frostmaw. My people have never engaged in this conflict and we don’t intend to do so now. As always, Frostmaw will offer safety and sanctuary to those who ask for it, but we will not participate in another war any time soon,” after all, Frostmaw was still recovering from its own recent war. It would not suffer another.