Seamus watched as the longboat carrying Harald was sent out into the sea, with flowers ordaining the hull and mast. He could vaguely see the veteran from his position on the high ground, spotting the many bottles of mead surrounding his linen wrapped body. Seamus had to bite his tongue at the sight of Bjorn’s boat following closely with Harald’s. The fallen dwarf had a keg of his special brew to accompany him, along with his favorite shield and ax.
In due time, other, smaller boats were also sent out with the veteran, their passengers consisting of other ravens who had lost their lives fighting. Seamus watched it all with grim emotion, his gaze moving to the men and women around the gravel shore below. Most were grieving, while others simply watched on in salute.
Seamus looked around his spot on the small dirt hill, where most of his friends were. James, Dahlia, Helen, and Haggard stood around, their faces solemn as they watched on. The ones who weren’t here were currently being treated for their wounds and injuries during the raid. Others were down on the gravel, watching as their friends and loved ones were sent out.
After a moment of silence, Felix stepped up onto the hill. He carried with him a long bow, his free hand wielding arrows with their tips wrapped in linen. Everyone stepped aside, watching as the archer drew one arrow back. James stepped up with a torch, setting the tip aflame for the guard captain.
Felix took a deep breath before he loosed the flaming arrow into the sea. Seamus watched as the glowing projectile struck Harald’s boat, setting it alight as it floated off into the mist. Felix repeated this, loosing another flaming arrow at Bjorn’s boat. The archer kept letting loose arrows into the sea, his accuracy enough to hit all boats.
Seamus stared at the flaming boats, watching as they all floated off into the distance. He continued to watch, up until the last boat was out of sight.
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James groaned as he situated himself in his chair in the longhouse. He could hear how the townsfolk drank and murmured amongst each other in and out of the meeting hall. Music played out in the courtyard, their lyrics somber but hopeful. This was a common practice in Valenfrost. Celebration after death. It was the reason Bloom and Midsommar had festivals after all.
Still, James couldn’t bring himself to celebrate and dance with his people. He could only drink from the horn full of mead he had in his hand. Every time he finished it, he would call over one of the nearby people to refill it. They would gladly do it, of course. He was their leader after all and this was a celebration. Yet they didn’t even realize that the blond man was trying to drown out the guilt and grief he felt.
‘James,’ Faust muttered in his head.
‘Quiet. I need to be with myself right now. I’m sorry.’
James downed another horn of mead, feeling how the honey taste grew more and more sickening. However, no matter how much he drank, the buzz would only last a minute before it went away. It got to where James assumed the drink was watered down. He eventually caved in to his frustration and threw the horn into the firepit before him. The flames rose in response, filling the hall with heat temporarily.
James sat back in his chair, his gaze on the fire as it reacted to the alcohol.
“Are you alright?” Seamus’ voice came from his left. James turned to the young man, who was watching him.
“I’m fine. I just need a moment,” James muttered.
Seamus nodded, but he still approached, eventually sitting down next to the Jarl. “Can’t get drunk, can you?” he asked.
“How did you…?”
“My father,” Seamus explained. “He could never get drunk unless the alcohol was dwarven made. It had something to do with his metabolism and the number of castings he had. I would expect you to have the same problem, since Faust shares your body.”
“It’s never been a problem before,” James pointed out. “Back in Bloom, I drank myself into a blackout,”
“Then it means you’re stronger than before,” Seamus said. “Your power has increased since then, has it not?”
“I guess,” James muttered as he looked down at his hands.
‘Price of power, it seems. Still…’
He clenched them into fists.
“What’s the point of power if everyone keeps dying around me?” He choked out in anger.
Despite everything. Despite his strength. He couldn’t save his friends. It was the feeling of helplessness he was scared of. It was what he felt back when his parents died. Back when he had to watch both his father and mother wither away slowly. All the while, James could do nothing.
“You can’t save everyone,” Seamus murmured somberly.
“I know that! I fucking know that! But… But I can’t look back at Vindis without realizing I could’ve done better. I could have had Bjorn stick with me. Maybe even saved Harald instead of going for that fucking apostle!” James struck his chest with a fist. He held back his anger and emotions, trying his best not to outright scream. “It’s because of me they died. Because of me, so many others died…”
“It wasn’t your fault, James,” Seamus leaned forth, his hand resting on the blond man’s shoulder. “I’m alive, right? Helen, Haggard, Lilith, Archibald, and even Dahlia survived. Most of the guardsmen are still here. The Thieves Guild owes their lives to you, and all of Vindis is still floating. Harald and Bjorn gave their lives for us. They and many others gave their lives so we could succeed.”
James was quiet. He soon looked towards his friend, who sat there with a look that told him everything. Seamus knew what true loss was. The young man had lost his entire family and clan only a year back, the event permanently scarring him and fracturing his mind. Yet Seamus continued forth, managing his grief a step at a time whilst also protecting his only home.
“Thank you… Seamus,” James gave the young man a weak smile. He looked back at the longhouse, where everyone else had been dancing and drinking. Dahlia was the only one not here, as she needed to attend to the wounded back at the infirmary. While the injured numbered in nearly half the remaining guardsmen, they were at least alive.
“Seamus,” James started, deciding to push past the previous topic. “Will you come with me to Vindis tomorrow?”
“Vindis? What for?” Seamus blinked in confusion.
“There’s going to be a meeting there. Between all the Jarls who partly own Vindis as a whole,” James explained. He had been called there the day after the raid, mainly to discuss his role in the entire battle. “I need you there.”
“May I ask what for?”
“Negotiations, really.” James admitted. “Nothing too dangerous, hopefully.”
Seamus gave a short, dry laugh. “I doubt it. With our luck, I’m sure it’s bound to turn into some kind of brawl.” He smiled a little at James. “I’ll come with you. If only to make sure you don’t end up endangering us all.”
“Don’t worry,” James chuckled. He looked back towards the firepit before him, his eyes on the dancing flames. “If everything goes well, we won’t have to worry about a lot of things. Clan disputes included.”
“That’s… a worrying statement,” Seamus said with some hesitance.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be fighting anyone there. Everything will go smoothly,” James reassured his friend. “I promise.”
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Elias was careful with every step he took, his eyes watching for any holes in the streets of Vindis. All around him were signs of battle, remnants from the raid. While most of the city was still trying to rebuild, there were still stains of blood and marks of flames peppering the surrounding buildings. He had even spotted a Lumen corpse at some point.
The dwarf ambassador simply pressed on, his focus on the courtyard ahead, where the meeting would take place. This place was the most damaged part of the city. Burnt buildings everywhere and signs of battle scarring the platform. There was even a sizable hole made in the ground, its burnt edges suggesting that a Fireball had been responsible for it.
Elias turned to the center of the former battleground, his eyes settling on the tower in front of him. He sighed and made his way to the meeting hall. The inside of the tower was surprisingly roomy, a large chamber that had an active totem at its center. He thought nothing of it as he climbed the steps, careful as to not lose his balance due to the lack of railings.
The dwarf would soon make it to the top, his stubby legs exhausted from the trip. He took a relieved breath as he stepped through the big doors that awaited him. Once Elias stepped through the door, he was greeted with a round table in a spacious room, which was surprisingly dimmer than he expected. Other men sat at the table, impatient as expected. The dwarf was never good at being on time.
“Redyr’s emissary, right?” A voice called out from the far side of the table. Elias squinted at the figure, his eyes catching the shaggy blond hair of the speaker. The dwarf guessed that this was James Holter, the so-called ‘Draugr of the South’. At his side were three other figures. A woman, a young man with messy bowl shaped hair, and a hooded figure that emitted a dangerous aura.
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“Yes, I am the Frue’s speaker,” the dwarf answered.
“Good! Sit down anywhere you like and we’ll get this meeting started.” James gestured to the table.
Elias nodded and situated himself on the chair closest to him, right next to Daven Larsson, emissary of the Serpent Clan, and that asshole Sigfried Vulpesson, heir to the Fox Clan. Once the dwarf was seated, one of the other men spoke up.
“Why are you acting as if you’re the one who called this meeting?” It was Lukas Villtur, Jarl of the Boar Clan. It looked like he was one of the two actual clan leaders to show up. “You are the one who will stand trial for what happened to Vindis, Outlander.”
Elias noted the way Lukas had said that last word. It was clear to the dwarf that the Jarl had a distaste for outsiders, especially ones that were not of this world. James Holter had been outed as such not even a day after his infamous battle, causing strife among clan leaders and Valenfrost nomads. Outlanders were problems. Chaotic forces that were most certainly brought upon by the mad god Myr. It was why nearly everyone here gave James a look of disapproval and hesitation.
As much as Elias would like to give James the benefit of the doubt, he too had heard of stories of Myr’s chosen bringing nothing but suffering and destruction. Even looking at the Outlander gave the dwarf the creeps.
James raised an eyebrow at Lukas. “Stand trial? After I saved it?” He questioned.
“Ha! Saved it? You were probably the cause of it all!” Lukas argued.
“I didn’t bring any of those marauders or soldiers here,” James shot back. “I only did what you all failed to do.”
“You dare call me incompetent?!” The other Jarl slammed his fist on the table in anger.
“Lukas!” a woman at the table shouted at the man, her hand grabbing at his arm. Elias recognized her as the Jarl’s wife, Emma. Recently married into the Boar Clan as a peace offering from the Fox Clan, Emma had been present with Lukas in every diplomatic matter that involved their clan. Elias was almost thankful to Siegfried for agreeing to trade off his sister to such an angry man. She was the only reason Lukas still had diplomatic relations with other clans.
“James did help save Vindis,” Daven commented, his voice right above a murmur. The heir to the Serpent Clan was surprisingly meek today. Elias usually saw him as a charming man who boasted confidence. Now it seemed Daven was smaller and quieter than usual.
“Does it matter? Our men in the guilds here would have driven them off regardless of the Draugr’s intervention,” Siegfried argued.
“That wasn’t the case,” Elias finally spoke up. He looked to the Fox Clan’s emissary. “Lady Margeret saw it all happen from her court Wizard’s crystal ball. Vindis was clearly at the mercy of Deimos and the Lumen Kingdom knights. Survivors also witnessed the Raven Clan come to their aid, driving off both sides until the alarm totem sounded off. Our clansmen weren’t enough to hold off such an invasion. If it weren’t for James and his men, Vindis would be at the bottom of the sea”
“I also heard that Holter broke Delphine’s holy seal,” Emma commented.
Everyone stopped at that.
“He what?”
“That golden bitch’s seal?”
“Impossible!”
Apparently, everyone here outside of Elias and Emma knew nothing of the historical feat. Even Lukas was shocked. Everyone around the table murmured and argued to an extent that no one knew what was being said. It all only stopped once James banged his fist against the table.
“Enough,” he called out. His voice was filled with frustration. The Jarl stood up, his hands going behind his back as he faced the small window that showcased Vindis from above. “I am here to offer a proposition.”
“Proposition?” Elias questioned.
James turned around, a slight smile on his face. “I want a portion of Vindis. Specifically, half of it.”
That seemed to do it. The room exploded into arguments, with Lukas throwing threats as Siegfried cursed in another language. Even Daven was shouting, his meek tone replaced with one of shock and surprise. Elias watched as everyone threw insults and spat out arguments, almost all of them getting out of their seats.
“What a ridiculous offer!”
“You’re just as insane as people say!”
“Fucking waste of my time!”
The men, excluding Elias, all headed to the doors, cursing James out as they did so. The young Jarl simply watched, his left hand raising slowly. He snapped his fingers. The two doors behind Elias slammed shut right after, locking everyone inside the room. Lukas turned to James, his face red with anger.
“What are you—?”
“Sit. Down. Let me explain.” James gestured to the table. After some silence, a couple of the men shuffled back to their seats. Only Lukas remained standing. James shrugged, his focus turning to the strange man with the bowl shaped hair. With a slight nod, the younger looking man stood from his seat. He looked at everyone with a nervous look.
“My name is Seamus Halvorson, son of Yorn,” he meekly stated.
Lukas raised an eyebrow. “Yorn’s son? What kind of joke is this? Yorn’s last son died in the Halvorson raid last year.”
“I am his son,” Seamus insisted. The young man reached into his shirt collar, his hand bringing out a small bear shaped pin. It was a Halvorson crest, one that was embroidered with gold. Elias could tell from a distance that it was authentic. Still, the young man didn’t stop there. Using his left hand, he raised the hair on his forehead, revealing the distinct birthmark.
The leaders and emissaries all went quiet at the sight of it, their focus on the mark. Before anyone could question it, Seamus rubbed at his forehead, proving that it was not drawn.
“Caelus’ balls, you are his son…” Elias muttered. It had been many years, but he still remembered the day Yorn had showcased his young child to Margeret. The dwarf was a simple advisor then, but he had been allowed to view the child and its birthmark.
“I want to give my father’s share of the city to James Holter,” Seamus stated.
“You what? You want to ally yourself with such a small clan?” Siegfried asked.
“The bear does not simply ally themselves with a sly raven,” Lukas agreed.
“This is my choice,” Seamus said. “James is my ally, has been since my father’s death. Until the day he dies, I will be at his side.”
“Noble… but stupid,” Lukas grumbled.
“How do you expect us to give you Yorn’s share of the city anyway?” Daven asked. “From what I recall, half the city noble council was wiped out in the raid. Papers and deeds were their expertise.”
“No worries, I’ve had my friends take care of it,” James gestured for the other two figures to stand. The shaman woman was first to stand, her hands carrying stacks of parchment. She walked around the table, handing them to each of the men in the room.
“Agreements and terms. Sign them all with your blood and we’ll be finished here,” the shaman stated as she handed Elias his stack of parchment.
“What’s the blood for?” The dwarf asked as he flipped through the stack. It was all hastily scribbled terms of agreement, every sentence filled with fancy words and complicated statements.
“The blood makes the contract binding,” the hooded man behind Holter answered with a chuckle.
“This is ridiculous. Yorn’s share doesn’t even own half of the city,” Siegfried complained after he flipped through his copy.
“Which is why you’re all signing off parts of your share to me,” James revealed. His confidence seemed to grind everyone to a halt, the tension in the room growing.
“What if we don’t?” Lukas growled. “You may have killed one of Delphine’s apostles, but you haven’t known the boar’s true strength. Don’t forget, we still own most of this city.”
“Really?” James’ eyes glinted with a sense of expectation. Elias couldn’t help but stare at the slight glow they emitted. Lukas didn’t seem to care, as he walked his way to the Jarl before him. He only made it two steps before he stopped. The dwarf blinked in surprise at the glint of steel in the dark.
Lukas suddenly had a knife pressed against his throat, courtesy of the cloaked thief behind him. It was as if the man had manifested from the shadows. Elias himself soon felt cold steel press against the back of his neck, the thief behind him muttering, “Don’t move.”
Everyone had daggers on them, the thieves in the room finally making themselves present.
“It seems as if you all overestimate the actual power you hold over the city,” Holter called out. “Your control only extends to the pompous rich in the gold district and the guards around the docks. Beyond that, the thieves guild runs the city.”
Jarl Holter stepped up to Lukas, who was doing his best to stay still. “I won’t kill you. I don’t want to. I only want what’s best for Valenfrost. I want to unite the south. I can’t do that if you all fight over control of this city like children,” James sighed, his head shaking, “Half of the city will be under Raven control. Don’t worry, you can keep most of your guild houses and merchant shops. I won’t deprive you of your income.
“However, I will be taking over the guardsmen here, as well as bars, docks, and this tower. This is the best deal you will get.” The Jarl walked back to his seat, his hand running across the table. “You will not bicker, you will not fight over districts and control, you will simply go on with your lives. The only difference is that half of this city will fly my colors,” Holter finished, his gaze turning back to the men. His eyes suddenly blazed with blue, showcasing the skull underneath. Elias almost flinched at the sight.
“Do we have an understanding?” Jarl Holter asked, his voice booming throughout the room. Everyone stared at him, their faces contorted into fear, anger, and awe.
After a moment of silence, Lukas was the first to speak. “Yes. We have an understanding.”
Holter sighed in relief as he sat back. “Good. Sign.”
With that, each and every person in the room moved to sign their agreements, puncturing their thumbs with knives to get their blood on it. Elias didn’t bother to read it all, eventually signing it early after he had reached a page that was an amalgamation of confusing terms and services. He trusted Holter would at least have some semblance of sanity.
In the end, Elias watched as the parchments were given to the robed man. Holter walked over to him, his hand brandishing a dagger. With some effort, the blond man sliced his left hand. His blood leaked onto the papers, soaking all of them. The dwarf was at first confused, until the robed man spoke with an ethereal voice.
“Do you, James Holter, agree to the terms you set for your peers?”
“I agree,” Holter simply said, right before blue flames engulfed his hand. Elias soon felt a similar heat on his thumb, the cut on it bursting into a flame as well. All the men in the room panicked for a moment, their hands shaking in an attempt to douse the flame. Of course, the dark spell wouldn’t last long, ending after just a few seconds.
“What was that?!” Daven asked.
“Pact magic,” the robed man revealed in a maniacal laugh.
“It’s a precaution, to make sure none of you conspire or plan against me,” Jarl Holter added as he bandaged his wound. “What? You didn’t expect me to take you all on your word, no?” He and his allies walked off to the exit, the thieves in the room opening the doors up for him. “Don’t try to find any loopholes, either. Believe me, I’ve made sure the agreements were airtight,” Holter muttered as he left.
Elias only stared at the man as he left.
‘So this is the Draugr of the South. Margaret was right. He is familiar.’
In just only a day, James Holter had forced the Jarls of the south to fold before him. It was a feat of trickery and force, one that reminded Elias of the days before the Outsider Wars. Back when Jarls were something to be feared.