RP:We Three Queens
Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc
Summary: In the wake of the cakelog assassination attempt, Hildegarde bursts into the HCT and is met by the confused Reginae and Pilar. Fortunately, her good friends clean her up and she reveals the events of the day. Larewen joins them by chance and the group chat away, until disturbed by Jesen: who proposes an alliance between Frostmaw and Rynvale.
Hanging Corpse Tavern
Hildegarde burst into the tavern, covered in blood and viscera. Fortunately, it was not her own, but with the amount that had drenched her it was difficult to tell for a long moment. She must smell like a vampire’s dream. The Silver stands for a moment, huffing and puffing, before she finally calls out to the Steadman: “Water! If you please,” she adds after a moment, recollecting the fact she was civilised and ought to have manners. The knight blinked before finding a seat and near enough throwing herself down onto it.
Reginae reached out to give Pilar’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t you take a day or two to think about? Make sure Hildegarde is alright with it. She might need you here. Take this,” Reginae removed the letter Muzo had given her. It was addressed to the Red Orge Inn in Larket. “I’ll wait here for you before I go to see Artia, so we can do it together.” Regi took out a quill and ink to sketch a symbol on the back. It was her personal symbol; a ouroboros-like naga silhouetted, forefront to a small field of hollow, white stars. “The Inn Keeper will allow you lodge and entrance to my room if you have this.” She smiled and stood, holding the glass container with a delicate affection. “I’ll see you soon, Pilar.” Just as the naga turned to go, Hildegarde made her grand entrance in a questionable state of affairs. Reginae immediately looks at Pilar, then back to the Stewardess with a heavy fear of the worst. Well...the near worst. The dragon clearly wasn’t dead. “Hildegarde?” she questioned, slithering careful to the woman’s side with the glass container still in hand. Clearly it was the Hilde, but the naga wasn’t sure how to say ‘You’re covered in a bunch of goop, are you okay omg seriously.’
Pilar took the paper and folded it up, putting it in her pocket. "Thank you, Reginae. I will see you then." She stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder. and was about to return to her piano when Hildegarde came in, drenched in gore. Pilar gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. She looked with wide eyes at the Steward, then at Reginae, then at the Steward again. Pilar also approached Hildegarde. The smell of blood made her thirsty, but she couldn't go and lick Hildegarde clean. That'd be weird and gross. "A-Are you alright?" Pilar asked.
Hildegarde huffed and puffed as she reclined in the chair, finally realising that people were addressing her. Such was the life of a warrior. “Fine,” she replied, “Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said when her senses came back to her a little bit. “I’m… I’m sorry, I must look like some mass murderer… or someone who went swimming in the blood fountain.”
Reginae held her place at the Dragon’s side, exchanging another cautious look at Pilar. “...are you someone who went swimming in the blood fountain? What happened?” In the deepest parts of the naga’s mind, Hildegarde’s revival was causing her body to break down and revert to an embryonic stage before she turned to mush. Interesting. She would have to tell Muzo all about that when she got back. What in Aramoth’s name was wrong with her?
Pilar slowly nodded her head. Yes, Hilde did look like a mass murderer, though that was hardly enough to draw stares in the city of vampires and necromancers. Reginae got to the important question ahead of her, so all she could do was just stare at the dragon.
Hildegarde took a moment to collect her thoughts. What had happened? “This giant tried to poison me,” she explained, “but he ran away once I ate the cake,” not that being poisoned would put her off cakelog. “He took a hostage and I gave him my word I would give him safe passage if he let her go. He did. But then he attacked and I have no option but to kill him.” The Silver explained it all quite monotonously, no excitement or jubilation; this was another day on the job for her. But it didn’t make her happy. Killing never did. “I sliced the tendon at the heel. I castrated him. Then I Ended him.” She had done what was needed to kill the giant. “I… I proclaimed myself Queen of the North,” she muttered, perhaps feeling more gobsmacked at that than anything else.
Reginae took a moment to process all this. She blinked, cursed, then urged Hildegarde from her seat in the tavern to the room Reginae had spent the night in. “By Aramoth…” The naga woman grumbled. “That’s no conversation for this place. Pilar, will you….” Regi was going to ask the vampire to collect some water and rags but it seemed like Steadmen was ahead of all of them, wearing a veteran look that plainly stated he sees this kind of thing all the time. Another round of blinking and then Reginae is methodically wetting clothes and cleaning Hildegarde’s face like a fabled mother type. “Proclaimed yourself Queen of the North?” That was surprising when the Dragon didn’t even want to be called Lady by friends or acquaintances. “Bold move,” she said at length, trying to hide the ghost of a smile in light of the circumstances. “You did what had to be done.”
Pilar listened to the tale, almost shocked by the distant way that Hildegarde explained what happened. Almost as shocked as she was hearing that Hilde was nearly poisoned! The thought that Hilde might have been taken from them a second time, and no one could have seen it coming, chilled her. She followed along to Reginae's room and sat on the bed while she watched. Upon the second mention of Hildegarde's proclamation, Pilar's only question was, "... So do you need a handmaiden?" An obvious jest, in reference to one of Hilde's own, from another conversation that seemed so long ago.
Hildegarde is urged from her seat by Reginae and into the room Reginae had spent the night in. If anyone were to come into the tavern, they’d certain see the trio moving. Or with all the blood on Hildegarde, they’d certainly smell her. “Did I? Is that the right move?” she asked her ally quietly, in a voice that was seeking honest opinion rather than political flattery. As Reginae begins to dab at her face, the knight sits still: because you never move when Regimother knows best! Except when laughing, but that was Pilar’s fault. “What does a handmaiden even do!”
Larewen shouldered open the establishment door, finding no need to flaunt her magic this evening. In fact, Larewen had improved in a lot of ways since a certain trio of people accosted her with their ideas of how she was a just and compassionate woman with a big heart. The elf had opened herself up for the first time in years; her mannerisms were not a far cry from those of the caring woman that mourned the death of lost friends and loved those of hers that lived. A nice reprieve, perhaps. She did not see Reginae, Pilar, or Hildegarde, for she was a few steps behind when they'd disappeared up the steps. The establishment was bright with magic and heavy with an unusual menagerie of smells, the most notable of which were naga, dragon, and... giant's blood? Her gaze turned in Steadmen's direction, as if she expected to see an explanation in the form of a gesture, but there was only his outline in that odd manner with which she saw things. With a furrow of her brow, the necromancer did the only thing that made sense to her at the moment: follow the smell! It led her up into the higher level of the establishment and she took to the stairs with great caution as she approached the source of her curiosity. A gloved hand rose and rapped gently upon Reginae's door.
Reginae sighs, putting the most recently soiled cloth in a bin beside the bowl of stained water. “I don’t know…” she said, earnestly. “You can’t meekly respond to those circumstances with a ‘oh well as long as you aren’t killing me, we can sweep this under the rug.’ There will come a time when you’ll have to kill Balgruuf if he continues. Death has it’s place. It is Aramoth’s will.” The woman sighed, looking a hundred years older in an instant. Worry lines cut sharply across her forehead while she tried to force a smile for the Silver’s benefit. “If you said that, it’s what’s written in your heart. It’s not a choice, Hildegarde. It is just who you are now. Your love is ferocious, and you’re every bit a Queen if I’ve ever seen one.” A small bolt of laughter breaks the small conference. “But you are not like any Queen I’ve ever smelled.” A knock broke the barrier in the room and Reginae’s blood pounded in her ears. Was it another Giant? Impossible, they would have heard. She approaches the door cautiously, unhinging the lock with her face pressed tightly against the door’s wooden body, almost coming nose to nose with Larewen. Regi tilts her head to release a heavy sigh in a fashion that is not directly into Larewen’s face (but just barely) before moving back enough to allow the woman Entry. “If I tried to explain what you’re smelling….” the naga started, shaking her head and closing the door behind the Elder Vampire.
Pilar honestly didn't know what a handmaiden did, and said as much. "I have no idea." She didn't know much about Aramoth's will, not being a follower of his, but she nodded along anyway. She also grinned broadly as Reginae echoed her own thoughts on Hildegarde's queenliness. Then there was the knock at the door, and Pilar jumped slightly. She wasn't expecting any visitors, but unlike Reginae, her thoughts didn't immediately go to "giant!" She smiled when she saw it was Larewen. "Hello, Larewen."
Hildegarde grinned as Pilar said she didn’t know what they did, “Then I ought to find out, shouldn’t I?” At least Pilar put her worries about this new position at rest with her optimism and good sense of humour. “Ah, Larewen, do come in,” she bade the vampire to come join them in the room. With Larewen admitted into the room, the knight nodded at Reginae’s words finally, as if she had been thinking them over during this time. “I would not say I am Queenly. It… Is not something I seek. I do not seek nor wish to be Queen, but if it is what must be so as to protect the throne and protect Frostmaw, then so be it. Balgruuf… I think he can be saved. His son, Balder, sent the poisoner after me. His son, Balder, is the one who is vehement in his violence.”
Larewen arched a brow at Reginae, though her dark stare did not quite find the naga's own. "I'll say..." came her quiet agreement to the other's words. She slipped into the room, allowing the door to be closed behind her as she inhaled once more. Yes, the smell was stronger here. To Pilar, she returned the smile gently. "Evening, Pilar," she returned and then said quietly to Reginae, "We must still speak, little snake." The name was spoken as a term of endearment, and perhaps quite opposite to the manner in which the elf had spoken previously. Warmer, certainly. Then, her sightless eyes turned toward the source of the smell of giantsblood. "Sometimes it does not matter what you feel in those cases, Hildegarde," the necromancer said. "You may not wish anything more than to protect the throne, but in Satoshi's long absence, you have become the throne. Many of Frostmaw's people, many of Larket and Vailkrin's people, many of Lithrydel's people, have come to revere you. When something is sought of Frostmaw, it is to you they turn. To them, you are already their Queen." In fact, Larewen was among those that regarded Hildegarde as such, and though she'd only recently become more friendly with those that she interacted with, it was a respect she had held for the Silver for quite some time.
Jesen has been passed out for the vast majority of the day, as his travels from Frostmaw's closed gates to Vailkrin were long on foot, and last nights events had him up for a good bit into the night. But, truth be told he slept longer due to the fact that this damnable kingdom seems ever bleak, ever shrouded by thick clouds that make the day seem a cheap imitation of night. Was it a natural occurence, or did some dark force conjure it up? Who knows. It was just such a stark contrast to the sunny skies of Rynvale. Either way, the high elf was up and about now and in need of some food and a good drink. What he finds is the knight from the prior evening talking it up with the two he saw leave the castle great hall and a new edition, an elf no less, though paler. Seeing as she had offered to pay for his room, which caused a bit of confusion last night with Steadmen, as the ranger had no name to tie to his benifactor, and thus he was met with quite the tale to spin for the barkeep. Mysterious girls floating in air, chopping statue heads off, him shooting it to save Lionel, and a woman knight taking the hit like a champ. As far fetched as it sounds it happened. But Steadmen wasn't having it and charged the highborn anyways. But, seeing no sign of O'Connor, he makes his way over to the knight and her company, offering a nod to her from a safe distance as not to disturb, but at least gain her attention. No need to be rude afterall and interupt another meeting, as the last one turned sour quick.
Reginae scrunched up her features, not agreeing entirely with her position on dealing with the usurper. The son was raised by the father, was the son completely responsible? Would it not make sense to forfeit their lives in exchange for the peace Frostmaw’s citizens yearned for? “Being Queen and protecting the people go hand in hand at this point. You have to accept that one might lead to the other. Public servants rarely get the choice.” It felt redundant to say things like, you have the spirit for it or you’ll get use to it. Clearly Hildegarde hadn’t gotten use to it in her years of service under Queen Satoshi but still she stayed and fought and loved the people as if they were her own comrades in an ongoing war against the evil forces in this world. Regi had never wanted to rule either, and look where they were now? The sister trained in the Queenly ways had vanished and left the mess for someone else to deal with. Queens were born true, but they also rose, out of the smoke left behind by those disinterested or otherwise occupied. “Don’t abandon them because you aren’t comfortable with a title.” Regi smiled, “Frostmaw’s just a -giant- army.” PUN INTENDED. The naga weaves her words between Larewen’s with a grin. Little snake? It was cute, she decided, and laughed quietly. “Aye, that’s true. We are long overdue for a few words. May we have them here? I don’t dare leave her majesty like this.” A bit of gentle encouragement, on behalf of Alithrya and all the naga race. Regi picks up the rich red bowl of water and starts out the door to exchange it when she runs into Jesen. She remembered seeing him on the tail end of her visit to see Hildegarde yesterday but his name escapes her. “She’s back in that room there,” she gestures with the tip of her free tails before moving to refill the bowl and head back in the room herself.
Pilar just nodded along to Larewen and Reginae's statements. Really, there was nothing for her to add. She blinked at the stranger from the other night appeared before them. She was on her guard, ready to spring into cover should a fight break out. She was surrounded by big strong women, no need for her to fight, right?
Hildegarde does indeed spy the familiar face of Jesen. He had helped her to her feet and tried to save the life of Lionel. With a nod, she acknowledges his presence as he is welcomed into the room by Reginae. “Majesty,” she repeated with a huff. “Not a term I shall ever become accustomed to,” but could she tell people not to call her that? Probably. Yet as Jesen enters the room, the knight looks to him and scrutinises him for a moment. He was an elf. He seemed unhappy. Ready for combat. An archer with magic. “Greetings, stranger. I did not get your name the other night.”
Larewen nodded to Reginae. "Here's as good a place as any," she replied in turn, and then as the naga slithered downstairs to empty the bowl and the elf entered in her wake, silence stole over the necromancer. Larewen's gaze settled on the archer, almost scrutinizingly as she studied his magic, rather than his appearance.
Jesen feels the gazes, but shrugs it off. As a noble born who chose the military life over the political pampered life he often gets looked at funny. And seeing as in the mainland most are used to the sight of a wood elf, not a high elf, he has gotten either confused for the other, or had double takes. Looks are something he is used to. But he has seemed to have stummbled upon another meeting, a habit he seems to have picked up as of late. " Jesen, of House Phenthae of Rynvale. Captain of the Rynvalian Ranger Regiment." He offers a bit of a nod, still hating to drop titles, but given the recent events he feels it best to clarify he isn't just some vagabond. " I've been sent forth from the isle to seek out allies, and to aid where I can. Seems we may have a common need."
Pilar was put on edge at the mention of Rynvale. All she knew of the island was that her friend hailed from there, and that she had left behind an abusive would-be husband of some high position. Hopefully, if Rynvale joined the fight, it wouldn't cause problems. Of course, she was just being silly. No way some military man would care about a runaway bride, right? Right. She looked back to Hildegarde.
Hildegarde cared little for titles. It was the deed that made a man, not the title that was tacked alongside his name! “Is that so?” she asked, offering a little polite smile, “I have not heard of anything from Rynvale; nothing indicative of troubles or requiring allies. Pray tell, what you have in mind?”
Larewen commited the name to memory and inhaled slowly. "High elf," she noted quietly, and with some bemusement. The mention of Rynvale piqued the necromancer's interest more than the title, if only because it had been a long time since Larewen could recall hearing anything of the island itself. She remained silent, content to listen to the exchange.
Jesen continues on with his report. " Thats it. People hear nothing, because many do not know that much has befallen my people, but more so Rynvale as a whole. Arien's abandonment of her duties as Governer, and head of the first house left my people in poor standing with the human population. Nirarien's attempted revival of the faith in our combined partnership was also a failure, as he too seemingly just... vanished. " He pauses a moment, to allow ample time to digest and follow along. "Then the news of Arien's involvment with the pirate Leoxander and his criminal element, however painted, left a mark on many of her decisions. And with no representatives from the human population to rise, the island has been leaderless, as elven houses squabble with one another over who should do what, and the humans seem more interested in rogue activities." He shakes his head, its a poor picture he is painting, but he is an honest man. " Ranok has rallied some forces, and alongside house Phenthae, we've managed to secure proper means to uphold law and order. And, after long periods of thought, my father, leader of House Phenthae, has decided we need to venture out, secure trade and alliences to get Rynvale prosperous once more, even if the rest of the island would rather sit and do nothing. So, here I am, on the mainland looking for those who wish such a partnership. While it may seem Rynvale has not much to offer, the island is rich in resources, and offersa much more. " He looks right at Hildegarde now, and says. " It took me time, but I know who you are. Hildegarde, yes? Steward of Frostmaw. I am in a position to offer you capable warriors, should you need them, and it sounds like you will. My people are one to earn respect, and are willing to aid you even if it does not mean an allience is promised, because we know it to be the right thing. Frostmaw under the rule of you, as Steward or Queen, is a better Frostmaw than one under the leadership of a blood lusting tyrant or warlord, not just for your kingdom, but the realm. Rynvale felt the power of Frost Giants before, when they sided with Vuryal briefly. We do not wish to see them lead down a darker path if we can help it."
Hildegarde listened quietly to all that Jesen had to say, not daring to interrupt or speak. In fact, she only nodded her head in confirmation when he asked if she was Hildegarde. A hard fact to hide when many knew her name. As Larewen knew, the knight was more deal-maker and alliance-maker. She rarely played the part of being the one offered something; she was the term setter. “Kind words,” she complimented with a smile, “but you talk much of what you can offer. Warriors. Resources. Friendship. Political alliance. You talk much of what you can offer and little of what you want or need. I’m not one to beat about the bush, as many know, so I hope you are much the same in that regard.”
Larewen flinched visibly at the mention of Leoxander, her features darkening and for the briefest moment, there was a haunted pain upon the elf's features. It was a name nearly forgotten, and yet one that brought Larewen back to days long past. Jesen's business with Hildegarde was little of her concern, but with Reginae's silence and Pilar's departure, coupled with the recent attempt on Hildegarde's life from what she'd gathered, the elf had no desire to leave her alone with a stranger, unless the Silver requested it.
Jesen nods at Hilde's words, and replies. "Very well. I'll be blunt. Arien and Nirarien's failures have left the island in a bit of turmoil. With Cenril's own criminal uprisings, the church's downfall and even the Seaborn attacks, we have suffered economically. Trade is limited, and overall Rynvale has declined over the last few years. My father wishes to see it return to its former glory, for the betterment of all. Much as you seem wary of claiming any official leadership over your own current title, so does my father. But what you both want is what is good for the people. If we aid you, we too wish aid in return. Help us restore trade, help us rebuild the islands economy, and help us ensure our people are safe if needed, and you will have our aid to reclaim your kingdom, for the betterment of all invovled."
Hildegarde did not bid Larewen to go, meaning she was quite happy with the presence of the vampire. As Reginae dabbed the wet cloth against her face and Pilar faded into the background – given her discomfort with politics – the Silver leaned back in her chair ever so slightly as Jesen spoke. “But your father is ambitious for further titles?” she asked, catching his comment about being wary of advancement. Was his father wary for other reasons? “You mentioned this Ranok… What are his thoughts on the matter?” The Silver paused again before adding, “And your navy? Do you have such or…?”
Larewen curled her arms around her torso, fingers finding purchase upon her sides as Jesen spoke. His remark regarding his father's weariness did not escape the elf either, and a dark brow arched upward in lieu of the words. She listened attentively, undoubtedly to learn more of Rynvale's current state. It was necessarily knowledge, as far as the necromancer was concerned, and this a prime opportunity to gather it. Rynvalian were living, and if they were seeking to establish trade routes... well, Vailkrin was a bit lacking in what they could offer their increasing number of living residents. There could be opportunities, she thought.
Jesen said to you, "Ambition is there, no doubt. But so is wisdom. My father's ambition is to see the entire island of Rynvale prosper is his ambition, and he does not want to see it fall anymore while others fight petty squabbles and hold on to old fueds over power, or taking ages to decide who is fit to lead. I, like my father, are men of action. I chose my life, to serve my people as a soldier. My father chooses now to do what must be done, not only for the high elves, but all of Rynvale. As for Ranok, he was an aquaintence of Kasyr, and a former high ranking member of the Fold. For the human population he has been instrumental in keeping the peace. He can possibly lend aid, though I will need to talk to him once again, or allow him to come talk for himself. And yes, we have a navy, but it isn't as it once was. Many sailors left, took many ships. But we still have enough to make a capable defense."
Hildegarde mused over these words. “I cannot commit to a decision,” she told him plainly, “not immediately. Such a thing requires thought and time. If you speak with this Ranok or have him speak with me also, this might be of help. Though I cannot say I know of him as a leader, only a man of peculiarities,” he knew Kirien, after all, that in itself made him peculiar. The Silver finally rose up from the seat to quietly thank Reginae for her assistance. “It’s something I must think over.”
Larewen did not know Ranok either, at least, not on a personal level. She'd heard the man mentioned from time to time, but that was it. There was a twitch in those pointed ears of hers at the mention of Kasyr, but as of yet the necromancer still showed no signs of interjecting. When Hildegarde spoke and then rose to her feet, Larewen's sightless eyes swept back toward her.
Jesen inclines his head, saying to Hildegarde. "That responce only confirms what I heard about you as a leader. You do not disappoint. I can return back Rynvale and obtain more information, escpecially if you require specifics."
Hildegarde shook her head, “I have no specifics. Only tell me what you think I ought to know.” The Silver looked to Larewen, “Lady Larewen, thank you visiting me. I hope we will speak again soon on other matters,” likely the matter of who Larewen had selected as her chosen ambassador to Frostmaw. “Now, beg excuse me, I must seek out some rest for the night!”
Larewen dipped her head, and then tilted it toward Reginae in farewell. Undoubtedly, the naga was ready to have her room to herself! "There is no need to thank me," the elf replied with an upward curve of the corner of her lips. She would allow Hildegarde to take her leave first, and dip her head to Jesen as well, before she'd oh so very carefully descend the stairs to make herself comfortable with a drink.