RP:Operation Save-A-Witch, Part 1

From HollowWiki

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc


Summary: Hildegarde, Odhranos, and Pilar meet to discuss evacuating the witches from Larket. There is tension between Hildegarde, who must maintain the fragile alliance between Frostmaw and Larket, and Pilar, who feels Hildegarde is turning her back on people in need by not taking a stand against Larket. Eventually, a plan is formed.

Frozen Throne

Hildegarde was seated upon the great icy throne that had been constructed by the previous Queen, having consumed the one blue iron throne that once sat the Jarls of old. Foolish men who thought that Frostmaw could not be held by a woman and foolish men who thought these women did not know the way of war. Unfortunately for them, their heads adorned a wall here in the Fort itself. Hildegarde’s voice, while not shouting, is loud and commanding as if it were meant to stretch across a battlefield. “You will watch your temper, Uhtred. Conduct yourself in my hall or find yourself outside these walls,” she warned, causing the fur clad human man to huff loudly but otherwise lapse into silence. “I will venture west and meet with Kovirsson myself,” she ensures the gathered men and women. “The Kuronii will not go unheard and I will not allow them to endure their troubles alone,” she promises, rising from the throne and taking a few steps down so she might clasp her hand to the shoulder of the seething Uhtred. “While you are, please, enjoy the meat and mead of my hall and warm yourself at the hearth. It is no short journey back to your people.” That said, it is clear the Queen has dismissed these visitors and is waiting for them to promptly file out of the throne room.


Odhranos strode towards the doors of Frostmaw's Throne Room. Hood drawn up to cast shadows across his face and a thick hide cloak drawn tight about him to hide his robes, the mage approached one of the guards flanking the blue iron doors. "Your business, traveler? The Queen doesn't greet just any rabble who enter these walls, state your name." The giant boomed, clenching his fists about the hafts of two iron axes at his waist in warning. Wordlessly, Odhranos drew a scroll from his robes and handed it across, prominently displaying the seal of Frostmaw; it was the document detailing his position as Eyrie architect in Larket. After a moment or two of critical study, the guard huffed and returned the scroll before allowing the terramancer to enter, which Odhranos did so, striding quickly into the throne room.


Pilar, concealed by her illusions, slipped through the fort like a gentle breeze. Few noticed her presence, and those that did thought nothing of it. She walked right past guards, invisible and inaudible, and made a mental note to tell Hildegarde to beef up her magical security. She probably could have strolled right on in, as she had lived in the fort once, but secrecy was the order of the day today. She came up to the doors to the throne room and waited. The doors opened, but the Kuronii crowd was too thick for her to sneak in, and so she continued to wait. Eventually, she watched the disguised Odhranos be allowed entrance, and followed in right after, before the doors were shut again.


Hildegarde notices one newcomer and the Eyrie head-scout Mistral. Mistral is swift to approach the Queen and lean a little up – though Hildegarde stooped somewhat for Mistral – so she might whisper something into Hildegarde’s ear. “Leave us,” the Queen commands, not needing to watch for her men and women to file out of the throne room obediently. Only Lisbeth remains. “Come now, we don’t have all day. Mistral, see to it that Kenway returns to you with a full report at the Outpost. He’s growing fat,” she said with a little smile, watching as Mistral in turn supressed a grin and left promptly. Hildegarde makes her way behind the throne.


War Council

Odhranos quietly stood aside from the masses as they exited the room, his small human form easily lost in the presence of giants. Once the last of the giants had disappeared from sight, the cowled figure padded slowly across the hall to follow where the Queen had disappeared to. As he did so, he drew back the hood of his robes, a characteristically broad Odhranos-smile on his face as he turned to face where Pilar was; he had sensed the presence of a set of footprints that seemed to have no accompanying person as he walked into the hall. Perhaps all Frostmaw's defences needed was a good terramancer. "You're getting good at that, you know. I had to properly concentrate to find you." The mage whispered at what would seem to be empty air, before grinning and setting off to follow the Queen's path, soon arriving in the hidden chamber behind the throne. "Your Majesty." The mage bowed low once he had entered the room.


Pilar said nothing to Odhranos, only following him silently. Once inside the war room, she sighed softly as she released the spells that kept her hidden. She was dressed in her favorite yellow frock, with her hair thrown into a messy ponytail and missing her usual fresh lily. She looked exhausted, much more so than the simple illusions she cast should have left her. “Your Highness,” she said, curtsying. “The fort's safeguards against magic have grown lax, I think. You might want to consult with someone for some fine-tuning.”


Hildegarde allowed them entry to the war room, descending down the ice tunnel until they all stood at the map of Frostmaw. The Silver did not much care for bows or curtseys, waving them away with a small flutter of annoyance upon her face. They should know better by now! As Pilar speaks of the lax in the Fort’s magical defences, the Silver offers a nod of acknowledgement, “I’ll contact the Mage’s Guild about it. I trust this information regarding such a lax will not leave this room,” it’s an unspoken warning, of course. Hildegarde stands before the giant map of Frostmaw, fingertips touching the silver dragon piece that lurked at the fort. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”


Odhranos was absolutely entranced by the large arcane map that dominated the room. Cartography and Magic? Sven above, Odhranos, don't drool in front of the Queen. Tearing his eyes away from the map, the mage nodded sternly, his smile whisked away by the importance of what it was they were about to discuss. "Indeed. As it stands, the situation in Larket is worsening. Every day, more and more of the witch population are suffering from malnourishment, dehydration and exhaustion. Despite the best efforts of the Eyrie, our provisions just aren't enough to sustain such a population, which is further impeded by the policies enacted by the Larketian throne. If an evacuation is to be enacted, it needs to be soon, before the camp descends into complete chaos. Pilar has a better sense of the exact state of the camps, I have only seen what I can from the witches working on the Outpost." Odhranos turned to Hildegarde, his grey streaked brows furrowing; "How have diplomatic engagements gone with Larket's monarchy?"


Pilar might have once been offended by the implied warning. Did Hildegarde not trust her? But a rift had grown between them of late, and so Pilar took it merely as a confirmation of that. “Of course, Highness.” She nodded along with Odhranos's report. “The camps are quickly becoming as bad as the death camps in Granceval were, only without the mass executions. Larket's content to let the people starve.” Pilar might have been exaggerating how bad things had gotten in the camps, but there was plenty of abuse of witches happening elsewhere. They were now being blamed for a curse that had befallen Larket. Whether they were guilty or not was as irrelevant to Pilar as it was to the monarchy. As far as Pilar was concerned, Larket had brought it on themselves by treating the witches so poorly.


Hildegarde issued the warning to the pair, not solely to Pilar. It was not so much said out of mistrust, but said so as to make it clear that such talk could severely threaten the fort and the lives of those within it. Hildegarde nodded as Odhranos asked whether or not diplomatic engagements had gone ahead, but she instead waits for Pilar to fill in some gaps before electing to speak. “I spoke to Macon during our social engagement, the talk went well. He and I were going to move things forward, I believe, but… well. The birth of the royal babe has complicated things… apparently there is something amiss. I think we can assume that the wrath of Larket will fall upon the witches, who they might assume is responsible. So their evacuation is now a priority, I believe. Whilst we have discussed the evacuation, we haven’t discussed exactly where these witches are going. If they come here, well, I would be expected to return them as per the honour of the alliance between Larket and Frostmaw.”


Odhranos screwed up his face into a pensive grimace. "Hmmm, that does complicate matters, we will have to move the witches farther than had been expected. Frostmaw, while not directly accessible to by road, is the closest city to Larket when one factors in travel by air. We will have to decide where exactly it is we are displacing them to before any plans can be made." Turning to face the map, his eyes roved across the hills and peaks of the Xalious range which cradled Frostmaw in it's crown. An idea came to mind, but he was unsure about it. "Frostmaw must be seen to take a neutral stance in this evacuation, but there are factions within Frostmaw's borders that from a political point of view are not part of the Frostmawian domain. Perhaps... Hildegarde, are there any communities within Frostmaw's boundaries that take an independent stance? Perhaps one that we can call in a favour with, that can house the witches temporarily without making Frostmaw accountable?"


Pilar's throat tightened. “Return them? Even against their will? If Larket wants them all to stay imprisoned there, despite hating them, then they can only be planning to wipe them out.” She'd seen this happen before, to her own people. She felt bile and anger rise within her, and she struggled to put it down. She said nothing more, lest she say something she'd come to regret.


Hildegarde shook her head at the question posed by Odhranos, “All ‘nations’ within Frostmaw are united under me. They have pledged their allegiance to me and they are honour bound to serve me, barring those who have been exiled to the westerlands,” she informs him. When Pilar speaks of returning the witches, Hildegarde nods to confirm her words: “That is the way of an alliance, aye. If they had something or someone who I had held in custody, they too would be expected to return them unto me.”


Odhranos listened to Pilar's statement then frowned slightly. "It doesn't necessarily mean that they are planning a mass extermination. If Larket finds that a large group of its citizens have defected, stolen right from under it's nose and just rolls over and accepts it, then they will be showing themselves as a weak monarchy who can simply be pushed around by anyone. It's a show of power and strength more than anything to insist they are returned." The mage grimaced then and considered what Hildegarde had said. "That's unfortunate. I would consider perhaps utilising some of the exiles, but I would rather not deal with criminals in a sensitive issue such as this. Right then, we can definitively cross Frostmaw off the list. Where else might house the refugees? Pilar, you brought that family to Rynvale, might it house more? And what of Chartsend?"


Pilar gripped her arms, her nails digging into her sleeves. She looked away from Hildegarde, down at the ground, and then toward Odhranos. “Chartsend would take them, I'm sure of it. Patron Wilhelm cares about innocent people.” She sighed. “Except, we're still dealing with an epidemic. They'd be trading the risk of death by a corrupt government for the risk of death by illness. I don't know Rynvale well enough to know if they'd be willing to take so many people at once. Maybe we need to split them into groups. Instead of bringing dozens of witches to one city, bring a family or two to several. It would be less likely to cause a problem for the host city.”


Hildegarde offered a scoff when Odhranos mentioned utilising the exiles. He clearly didn’t know them very well! “They are of the old way. Witches, to them, are only fit for the pyre,” she warns, waving away the idea of using the exiles of Frostmaw. As Pilar begins speaking of Chartsend’s patron or perhaps splitting the witches up to different locations, Hildegarde nods slightly. “Chartsend doesn’t have a history of being able to repel any army… nor does it have a fearsome reputation, so I wouldn’t hesitate to march in there and fetch what was mine if I were Larket,” she explains. “Splitting them up would be better. Scatter them far and wide.”


Odhranos stroked his chin as he mulled over the exchange between both of his friends. "Splitting the witches is ideal, but would drastically increase the organization required. Then again, that organization can be done. So, if we decide to split the witches, where are we to send them? And are we to send specific witches to specific locations?" Following up this statement, he turned to Pilar. "What I mean by that is, the witches proficient in healing arts might be of most benefit in Chartsend, where they can not only assist in the relief efforts, but also will be able to make sure they are safe, where witches that specialize in other arts might be susceptible to the epidemic." The terrmancer reached into a pocket of his robes, before drawing out a rolled up map of Lithrydel. While it was to no extent as detailed nor as impressive as the arcane map before them, it did show all of Lithrydel, from Chartsend to Vhys. "Where would be appropriate locations?" He asked as he produced a number of small steel map-pins, placing one in Chartsend and another in Rynvale.


Pilar said, “That's a possibility. We need all the help we can get, especially magical help.” She perused the map. “Kelay is out. Way too close to Larket. I'd also avoid Vailkrin and Trist'oth. But Enchantment might be good. Enchantment is woodsy, someplace a witch would be at home. Cenril, eh... I've heard not-great things about how witches, and mages in general, are perceived there. Xalious Village is also a crapshoot. Josleen is from there, they might give up witches if she asked. What about Gualon? Would Governor Tristram protect them?”


Hildegarde made a scrunched up face of disbelief when Pilar ruled Xalious out. “Why would the town of the Mage’s Guild not accept witches? Aye, Josleen is from there but so am I. The townspeople would not give her what she wanted purely because she was born there.” But alas, this was just her opinion. “Governor Tristram is not one to wade into disputes, but he does protect his city and he protects it well,” he is a former warlord after all. “The globe is great and big, though. Craughmoyle, Schezerade, Rynvale, The Burrows, Taylebeck, Venturil.”


Odhranos also frowned at Pilar's opinion regarding Xalious, but he did ponder the suggestion. "While I disagree that Xalious would give up witches based upon it being the birthplace of Larket's Queen, it might be wise to keep the witches from there due to the Mage's Guild. It is of neutral standing and while other regions could protest to being unable to find and round up the witches, the Mage's Guild has the capability. So if it were to refuse, it would damage it's political stance." Odhranos shrugged sadly, then debated some of the other places. "Schezerade is a good suggestion, and witches could be hidden amongst the many non-avians that frequent the Bard's College, who's headmistress would no doubt support our cause. But tensions between avians and outsiders are somewhat strained, so only a few could be hidden there." Odhranos tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The residents of the Burrows are friendly and Pilar and I are in good standing with them after helping them with a recent issue. We can include that also." The terramancer added two more pins to the map. "I am not too well acquainted with Taylebeck or Craughmoyle, having only passed through both on occasion. Would they harbour fugitives if asked?"


Pilar bit her tongue, stifling a snide comment on certain Larketian connections, and let Odhranos speak instead. She snorted at the mention of the Bard's College, but stayed silent until he asked about Taylebeck and Craughmoyle. “I'm pretty clueless on that front,” Pilar said, “but something just came to mind. How are we going to organize the witches? I can get into the camp and talk to them, but what if something was repeated within earshot of the wrong person? It just takes one slip-up to ruin everything.”


Hildegarde was growing weary of the attitude within the war room but she bit her tongue on the matter. “The dwarves are noble, but they are not patient. If the witches can hold their own and toil away, then all is well and good. The dwarves appreciate those who can work and exchange their earned coin for their wares,” she explained. The Silver shook her head at Pilar’s words, “Risky business that. It might be worthwhile to simply… arrive and implore them to go with you. You cannot make everyone leave with you, though. Some people will want to stay, such is their way.”


Odhranos made a subtle face at the rising tensions in the group but chose to try push past it; lives are at stake. "Very well, we can do our best with these places. Worst comes to worst, once the witches have been integrated into the general public, they can move about freely under the radar. It's getting them out of the Larketian sphere of influence that will test us the most." The mage set the map aside, now that they had the "where", they needed to finalize the "how". "Construction of the Outpost has progressed to an extent that the first floor walls and structure has been completed. This is probably the most substantially defendable element of the tower and can serve as our beachhead to get in and get the refugees out. As for how we organize them, I can put out word to the witches working on the site, who can then pass it on to those in the camp. If we only give out word a day beforehand, then the Larketian Guard won't have enough time to mobilize an adequate response if they do find out." The mage spread his hands wide. "This is simply my suggestion, I am open to any amendments if you think of something."


Pilar hummed. “I don't know... I'm afraid of the guards turning to violence at the drop of a hat. I wouldn't be surprised if they just decided to attack us on sight if they knew we were coming. Then again, they'd probably do the same if we surprised them. I think there's a balance here somewhere. What if, on the night of, we hide our forces in the forest. I and a few others sneak in and go from group to group to try and convince them to go. If we get a yes, we sneak the group out, mount them up, and send them off. If we get a no, we move on, rinse and repeat until we get anyone who wants to leave out.”


Hildegarde was putting Eyrie mounts and, from the sounds of things, Eyrie riders at risk for this plan. It was not an easy decision to make. “If you give them a day, you give Larket a day to either already kill the witches, a day to tighten security, a day to do anything. A day is nothing for an army to mobilise in that city,” she reasoned. “Going in and out, that’s noticeable. We can spend the day shuttling in supplies, under the pretence that this is for construction purposes. One person goes into the camp to deliver the extra rations and to find workers, but uses this time to invite people to leave instead. But this is an operation that has to move fast: you cannot spend a day preparing. You arrive, you give people an hour to prepare their things, then you go.”


Odhranos nodded at both suggestions. "You have a point. We're on their home turf, they could lock down and mobilize at the drop of a hat, plus given the tension there, they are probably always ready to field a lethal force in their defense at any moment. It will have to be fast." The mage tucked the map away and drew handfuls of sand from his pockets. Scattering them to the floor, the sand hovered a few inches from the frozen ground and began to take contours, while in places, buildings of sand rose from the rippling surface. Soon, a map similar to the one behind them rendered itself, but of Larket instead. "If we use the mounts to drop supplies, they can wait in the Outpost or the forest to take off again. Which would be more suitable?" The mage drew some small shards of crystal from his pockets, which shaped themselves to form rough draconian shapes, before taking off from the mage's hand and circling the sand-forest.


Pilar looked at the sand constructs thoughtfully. “Hmm. Tough call. In the forest, would be easier to hide from the guards, but it would be farther to run. In the Outpost, they can just go in, hop on, and go, but we run the risk of getting intercepted.” Pilar chewed her thumbnail for a moment. “I... I would go with the Outpost. Between my illusions and your terramancy, we can whip up some cover and distract the guards more easily. I assume we're still planning to make a big show of Hildegarde punishing the Eyrie riders responsible for evacuating the witches?”


Hildegarde nodded at the presented plans, “The Outpost will be for the best. Eyrie mounts stopping in the forest is suspicious at best and dangerous for them, given many mighty beasts lurk in the Eternal Forest,” she wouldn’t risk The Eyrie members unnecessarily. This was already a mighty risk. “In and out. If people will not go with you, you cannot make them do so,” she reminded gently. “Mistral will be on hand to prepare the mounts, but she will not fly with you. Do not involve her. Now, I must attend to business in the west.”


Odhranos nodded to the Queen as she stood up and left the War Room. "Right. We can finalize the actual evacuation plans when we find who we are to take with us. People might inquire if we stay here for too long. Will I meet you in the Eyrie's Northern Outpost in a few days?" He asked, looking across at Pilar.


Pilar watched Hildegarde go and sighed softly. To Odhranos, she said, “Yes, that sounds good. I'll see you then.”