RP:War and Wine
Part of the Surface Tension Arc
Synopsis: The Elven Council meet and make the decision to go to war with the drow after learning that there may be elven slaves kept within the Sage compound.
Old Camp
Welcome to day three of war negotiations at the Elven Council. There is a palpable split around the table and it’s not just metaphorical. Over the days of arguing and negotiations, members of the council have physically moved themselves until the split is physical. One half of the table features Syelnar, Maegus, Nienna and a number of council members, the other side is led by a glaring Elrohir and his fellows who stand against war. Though elves are rare to shout, the council are in the middle of yet another argument with Meagus and Elrohir both passionately arguing for and against attacking the drow. Only one council member has remained impartial to this split; naturally that role has fallen to Aeth, the impromptu leader of the council, who remains where he has always sat and contributes only where necessary. Skylei herself stands where she usually does, a respectful distance away from the table, just to the left of Aeth so that should he need her, she is only a head turn away. The half-breed is obviously cold and bored. Three days and stagnant decision making will do that to a girl. Eventually, the argument is interrupted by Aeth, “I should like to hear what Gilwen has to say regarding the weakened stance of the drow forces. It may be that this is the only chance we have to attack with some chance of success, and if that is the case, we must be wary of tallying on politics for too long.” He falls silent and leaves the floor for Gilwen to speak.
Gilwen obviously had joined the side that sought war, but she remained surprisingly quiet, albeit she did knock the bottom of her cup against the table in agreement to particular arguments, and occasionally she leaned to part with whispered words for Nienna, which after about the fifth murmured exchange, left the elder elf with a small grin that nested in the corners of her mouth. Content with allowing the council to shout themselves voiceless and tired, the fiery headed elf made to stand to fetch more wine for herself, but it was in that moment that Aeth’s words were heard and attention curbed to the elder. With an exasperated sigh, she returned to her seat and folded her head together atop the table, her attention fixed to Aeth. “The drow are in a state of unrest. According to sources, the First House is killing those who say that Gevurah had anything to do with the murder of the Matron. This is causing not only more tension between the houses and normal society, but it’s not helping in clearing the first daughter’s name.” Her attention swung then from Aeth to Elrohir and all the other council who decided against war. “We can’t stay here in Frostmaw, and we can’t move somewhere else. It’s time to go home, and now’s the best time to do it.”
Gilwen’s remarks cause another fit of arguing. The anti-war side of the table decry what it is she has to say, pro-war side of the table erupt in fits of defence of her name and word. Skylei would see this as a good time to interrupt and goes to murmur in Aeth’s ear. The information she imparts is that she had received from the various scouts and rangers still stationed in Kelay, tasked with watching over the forest and ensuring that the drow caused few atrocities; all ‘unofficially’ of course. Once Aeth had the attention of the table again, this information would be relayed, “Miss Lucindio tells me that there have been reports from the Sage this morning that another of our scouting parties has been attacked. There was one survivor, though he left this world soon after. When he was found he was heavily wounded and delirious but insisted that he had seen evidence of the slavery of some of our people near the drow camp; men, women and children, all in stages of distress near unimaginable.” All fall silent; slavery had been expected for a while, though this was the first hard evidence of such atrocities.
Gilwen fell silent again once both sides of the table erupted into their one sided fits again, and instead rose from her seat to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine; the two that sat in the middle of the table had been long since emptied. Once the cork was pulled free, and her own cup filled, she circled the table, filling the glasses of those who requested more, despite the side they sat on- all except for Elrohir, because it was in that moment, when she neared the councilman to refill his glass, that Aeth’s words fell onto the council, and what hospitality Gilwen did show was replaced with fury. She had heard whispers and rumors, she had comforted the families of missing Rangers and scouts the best she could with the time she had, but without definitive proof of slavery being the cause of the problem, what more could be done? “Are you happy? The longer you sit here and fight with us, the more our people suffer,” She hissed at Elrohir as she returned to her seat, the wine bottle in hand settled hard against the table before her. “How long are you going to argue against this cause?” Her tankard was drained in one fell swoop, and she had the urge to throw it at the other council member’s face, but better judgement and Nienna’s words stilled her hands. “It is time we go to war, Elrohir.” Nienna addressed him by name because he fought the hardest to remain, but her words were directed to all of those who opposed the notion of war. “This is no longer about regaining our home land. Now, it’s for the people they have taken from us.”
Skylei falls back from the table once she had spoken with Aeth. The atmosphere had changed with this new piece of knowledge imparted. When it had just been about Sage there had been a reason to resist the call of war. Now that people were involved, the group had almost instantly grown closer to making the decision to go to war. Elrohir, however, remains the last stance of resistance and his words are directed towards the two ringleaders of the war effort “What of the strength of our men? Yes, we have druids and mages and rangers aplenty, but the drow are famed for their warriors as well as their magic users. On that account we are short. Do you propose to lead the rest of our people to slavery, Gilwen? Do you Nienna?” He shakes his head, “The slavery is tragic, we are all in agreement. But perhaps it is a sign that we should release our last hold on the forest and accept our lives here.”
Gilwen busied her hands with refilling her tankard with wine to avoid lashing out physically against Elrohir; his continued arguments were wearing on everyone. “If you are a coward, there is no place for you here.” She said, her voice icy and her eyes cold. Her gaze remained trained on him a moment longer before she turned her attention away from the argumentative elf to address those that seemed to mirror Elrohir’s question in their expressions. “We have support outside of our people. We have healers, and warriors that have pledged and want to pledge themselves to our cause. They might have larger numbers, or might be stronger, or faster, or what have you, but we know the forest. We know where the best advantages will be. We are stronger united than we are divided.” Finally her gaze returned to the disagreeing elf, and with an almost pleading expression, Gilwen added: “Don’t leave our people to be tortured or killed at the hands of the drow.”
Elrohir falls silent for what felt like hours. “You are probably correct. We cannot leave our people to suffer.” He shakes his head as though even he is not happy with his own words. “We might speak with the Warrior’s Guild, see if we might hire within their ranks to boost our numbers. Many of them will be sympathetic to our cause” suggests Syelnar. Aeth nods in agreement and Skylei would busy herself with making notes of things that had to be done. Decisions might be made by the council, but Skylei herself knew that she was the one who got most of the work done around here. Aeth would continue, “And we should inform the people. Subtly. Those who wish to fight should be allowed to. No judgement on those who wish to stay in Frostmaw.”
The entire table remained silent until Elrohri chose to speak again, the members of the council deciding to stare at their hands, or at the last remaining elf that spoke against the cause; Gilwen merely stared into the spiced wine within her cup. As soon at Elrohir finally gave the closest thing he could to an agreement, the fiery headed elf’s shoulders sagged with relief and a long held sigh fell from her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured before pushing herself away from the table. “We need a rendezvous location that is close to the Sage. Frostmaw is too far to march from, and I would rather not give the Queen a further reason to be displeased with us. Gathering a militia within her city will no doubt raise red flags. Does anyone have a suggestion?”
Skylei cannot stay her tongue any longer and thus is the first to answer Gilwen’s question, “Split the army. Keep the majority here in the camp; the elves have the right granted by the Queen and maintained by the steward to live here. Whilst the Steward has no intention for us to bring war to the gate of Frostmaw, I refuse to believe she would be against our cause to rescue those who have been enslaved. She may not always agree with our vendetta, but Hildegarde is not a cold-hearted woman – she may be willing to help.” Maegus’ suggestions lie further afield, “Send a small number to Xalious to monitor the Sage; and I mean a small number. No need to alert the Arch-Mage to our intentions.” Nienna interjects here, “There are a few elders in Gualon, ask them to recruit and gather their troops and move to the Plains; there is no reason to frustrate the Governor, nor make him think that we are launching an attack against him. They can join up with those who chose to move to Cenril, should they wish to join us?”
Gilwen found herself almost overwhelmed with the answers to her question, and could merely nod along with each suggestion. Once certain that no more ideas were thrown out, she spoke again. “Okay, I’ll speak to Hildegarde regarding out intentions, so the royal court is at least in the loop. Maegus, you should speak to the rangers we have remaining and devise a plan with them.” She paused there and turned to Skylei once more, “We can kill two birds with one stone if we speak to Hildegarde about the warrior’s guild as well, so if you would come with me when I speak to her, that would be preferable.” There, she turned away from the Halfling and fixed her attention on Nienna, “If we can get an audience with Hildgarde today, we’ll make the trip to Gualon to try to recruit the elder’s there.” Who is we? Why, Gilwen and Skylei of course!
Skylei nods as she jots down a series of notes; Maegus to Xalious, Sylenar and Aeth to organise recruitment in Frotsmaw, Gilwen to the Steward and to Gualon and Elrohir? Well he could sulk for the next few days until he got over losing the argument “In the absence of the Queen, the Steward has been increasingly hard to reach. Day to day business and what not; I hear running Frostmaw takes more effort than it looks. I’ll have a missive delivered to her today, requesting an audience though.”