Sven
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 126
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Post by Sven on Sept 18, 2013 3:13:09 GMT
The trumpets sounded and horns blazed of the coming of the glorious army of the Band of the Hawk. Ranks upon ranks of the glorious Calvary followed by their elite Heavy Infantry units marched through the gates and over the banner of Ismark. Thrice had the Band of the Hawk offered bonds of brotherly alliance and friendship. Thrice had Ismark rudely rebuffed and sent away our diplomats. Thus only one response could be made. For the continued disrespect only one action could be taken. That was of total military occupation of the lands. The Ismark people opened the gates and let the noble army of the Hawk march through unmolested. The Banner of the Ismark was taken as a war trophy to show Calidor the price to pay for those that would defy the Band of the Hawk. As the people of Ismark opened their gates none of the leadership of the country stood to stop them. Fleeing possibly before the onslaught that is the Band of the Hawk arrived.
On this day in history I Sven Von Jeggare of the Noble House of Jeggare do commit to paper this historic event in our Lands History.
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Post by Johnathan Cousland on Sept 18, 2013 3:34:14 GMT
We entered the castle no one was there to stop us as if they had heard of our coming and fled. I sent my men to the treasury "clean them out" Johnathan Roared as Leonidas followed up behind him. As he sat on the Isling throne. *Leonidas lays down around it* (completely surrounding it with his massive stature) *John pets his new companions head and says* "Pick a room and eat your fill we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow" "Rest well and don't gorge yourselves for tomorrow we dine in hell" *Laughs so hard he falls of the throne* "just kidding have fun"
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Sven
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 126
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Post by Sven on Sept 18, 2013 3:46:52 GMT
Commander this here is the official banner for the country of Ismark. I present it to you. May you continue to lead us into glory and honor. Hail the Band of the Hawk. May our lances and blades be keen as our wit and as deadly as an owlbear on a recruit. (bending to a knee to present the banner to the commander)(once the banner is taken Sven stand and takes three steps back bows and turns to the crowd) Men! Do as the commander says! Drink of their wines, eat of their stocks of food. However, be ready to ride in a moments notice. We are still a professional band. Commander with your permission I wish to see to the walls of the capitol of Ismark. I will inspect our troops and make sure they are ever watchful for enemy forces outside that may attempt to retake their capitol.
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Post by Johnathan Cousland on Sept 18, 2013 23:13:57 GMT
*Johnathan nods accepting the flag* (In Johns head)*To be surrounded by so many who all believe in me. When i first started this i had no intention of becoming a king i had seen many a fool fall prey to the power, but with so many who believe in my how could i betray their trust. I shall become King.* *John raises his hand the flag still in it and Roars* "To the Band of the Hawks!!!" *The Lion responds with a ground shaking roar of his own*
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Sven
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 126
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Post by Sven on Sept 19, 2013 1:40:47 GMT
For the Band of the Hawks..and for our King!! Long live the King of the Hawks!! Hip Hip Hurraahhh...(taking a flagon of the Giants best and drinking deep into it.) (Taking some wine skins and a haunch of meat Sven retreats from the festival to inspect the men on the walls.)(Sven gives some win to the men on duty and shares with them some jokes and stories of the long hard ride to take the capitol of the giant folk.) (hmm thinking back to the capitol of the band of the Hawks. Sven wondered how Aegis was doing with the new recruits. Shame he had to miss the ride out here. When we left to fight the Ismark many of the Officers and soldiers were still green. Now they were battle hardened vets. They who fought the orcs, owlbears, and what ever the forests could throw at em. Now they are the most efficient highly trained fighting force this land could muster no doubt. They didn't do it for coin. For other lands could bribe soldiers or pay higher salaries no doubt. No these men fought and would continue to fight because of brotherly loyalty to the man on his left and right. Yes the Band of the Hawk is a Mercenary Army for sure. However the men respected each other and know the Commander would die for them. A mans honor and soul has no price. The Officers of the Hawk could not be bought. Now the band has a King.)(Sven returned to the festival while it was still in full swing even hoping that he might find one of the "short" giant ladies for a conquerors welcome party. With a sly smile the noble entered back into the hall of honor that was now claimed by the Hawks.
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mavodo
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 27
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Post by mavodo on Sept 20, 2013 5:10:40 GMT
"hmm quite a nice little place. We should have a feast prepared a very nice hot meal could serve us all well." belial mentions while rubbing his stomach. "So where are the rulers or whatever of this place again?" he grunts "I was expecting some sort of fight at the very least. A bit disappointing indeed.
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Post by Yngvord Aurvanding on Sept 20, 2013 16:07:01 GMT
With a steady hold, Yngvord gently lowered the barrel onto the table against the wall, and gave it a small jolt to ensure it’s stability for the evening. After which, he began to fill a few tankards with what was undeniably, some of the finest mead from the cellar.
As it began to froth towards the top, the scent of lingonberries along with that of a generous amount of honey, wafted up from wood-carved spicket. Pleasant as it was however, it was not enough to distract his thoughts from the preferred taste of peaches, which the barrel two tables down continued to promise him, and he would still be as willing as ever to uphold the argument that cinnamon was a better suited additive to it than cloves. The cup was full----
He continued to think, and look, and listen to the sounds of mirth behind him, until he had finished filling the eighth tankard, which he promptly set upon the tray at his right. As he took the white cloth from his shoulder and turned round, his ears alerted him to the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward his right.
--Dathunk-- came the sound of the last barrel falling into place, a sure sign of Gerda’s return from the cellar. In time, she joined the Aurvanding in cleaning the last bit of dishware from the table in front of them; A task that was proving as easy as ever, since their newfound guests had quite the appetite.
“It seems Heline is the subject of more admiration than usual tonight,” remarked Yngvord.
“She can have it if she wishes;” said Gerda casually, “I could never get used to having so many eyes on me at once.”
“Neither can I, the feeling is more familiar to me than I would like.”
“That reminds me," began Gerda in a softer tone, "I cannot but wonder why someone of your standing is helping us, I would surely think one of your qualities would be in greater demand elsewhere?"
“You would think so, but, as it happens, there may yet be a demand for my qualities here -- perhaps sooner rather than later… Until such a time though, I am content to help where I can"… He added another clean plate to the stack, only to pick another up and begin drying it, all the while looking about the spacious hall. "Also, I find myself enjoying the rare opportunity, to observe a new and interesting people from the convenient locality of my homeland. I don’t know about you, but, personally, I find them fascinating... within a certain fashion.” he added.
...“I suppose one could look at it that way… but to me they just come off as… invasive”...
The Aurvanding tilted his head back slightly, and let out a hearty laugh. “Hwahahahahohoh… aye, that they do. They seem to have their reasons though; I imagine every one of them feels justified in his place here. All that aside, they’re clearly enjoying themselves -- oh, were you here early enough for the song they sang together?"
“I was just over there--yes.” The stout maiden motioned with the back of her finger, before drawing a few of her red locks past her ear. She finished washing another plate, setting it down to grab another. “The harmonizing was nice.”
...“a sure sign of a well knit troop, I should think”... --klink--kachink--
“Have you noticed something amiss about the placing of the kitchen?”
“No...?” Yngvord began scanning the hall …”Now that you mention it… The kitchen does seem out of place this evening”... He walked around to the other side of the long, side table. His brow furrowed in befuddlement, till he finally turned back to Gerda. "Hmmm" he uttered before raising a finger and----
“All is well here, you should see if they need any help.” She said intuitively, motioning with her hazel eyes.
Yngvord caught himself mid gesture, and pointed his finger at her repeatedly in jest, while drawing his lips tight and tilting his head. He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile as he turned away, walking alongside the great outer table, which curved round the back of the great hall. On the other side was the inner table, and several other smaller tables. At all of which, sat the many members of the Band of the Hawk, thoroughly engaged in all manner of mirth and merriment.
At the opposite side of the hall, he spied Norlief, of the Ivarson clan. By the looks of it, he was serving as master of the kitchen this evening. Traditionally, the position was reserved strictly for the discerning female, who’s experience and sense of taste was unparalleled; However, there were exceptions, of which Norlief Ivarson was surely counted among. A grin appeared on Yngvords face, as he knew Norlief to be a very particular fellow, who, while an impeccable cook, felt a need to have things his way. Drawing ever nearer, he looked on as the good master of the kitchen ordered his apprentices round about the tables and doorways along the opposite side of the great hall, feeling certain that, for the distinguished Ivarson, this was either a fit of genius, or a circumstantial nightmare.
After redirecting another two of his apprentices, Norlief leaned earnestly over a few pieces of parchment, tapping his finger anxiously. He finally took a moment to acknowledge the Aurvanding standing opposite him. “Steward” said he, as he looked at him from beneath whispy peppered eyebrows.
Yngvord promptly greeted him according to custom, lightly slapping his stomach before bowing his head and gesturing towards him. “Good master, How goes it here?” he inquired.
The reputable master Norlief hung his head briefly, attempting to laugh in his frustration, before replying without ceremony. "What point is there in asking, seeing I am robbed of my station? We’ve been able to make-do to some extent, but, even so -- he continued as his tone became uneasy -- I am hard pressed to provide for all these without a proper kitchen. Can you not do something?!”
"Would that I could master Norlief, but regretfully my hands are tied. The will of the high council, your father and uncle included, was made abundantly clear. We must hold to the----Pwamm-- came the unexpected, albeit deliberately diminished sound of Norlief's palm against the varnished table.
”Confound it Steward!” the good master interrupted desperately with a hushed yell. He looked around briefly, before continuing in the tongue of giants. “At own end of wit am I; requests heap meanwhile we speak, and would not have our... guests... even smallest reason find to be enemy. Made you have pacts with his kind many past times. Can not you speak with him? Perhaps only to stop which would surely be, in least amount, a sour turn of evening."
Yngvord held his tongue for a breath or two, as the good master had made a solid point. He let out a sigh, as he resigned himself to the idea of bringing some manner of balance to a situation in which there seemed to be none. About then, Bjorn the butcher made his way to the table, and began carving a hock of freshly roasted ham to the left of the good master.
"Will do what I can, but not expect they to give our traditions second thought."
"Nothing do they, except not respect our traditions." grumbled Bjorn, as he struggled to keep his deep, booming voice from reaching the nearby tables. “Are rude persons... whole of them... and their leader”... he said as he paused to glance toward the end of the hall, before leaning his imposing figure closer to Yngvord, attempting a brutish whisper. “He treats our banner like a trophy!”
While he was yet near, Yngvord gently placed a hand on on his friend’s shoulder and spoke eye to eye. “Tis nothing but, to those who have not sworn to uphold that which it glorifies. True banner of our people never touched can thing be, in way that we raise thing with voice together... together in thoughts and feelings. In that rest well, and let them decide their fun. Allow ourselves to keep with wisdom of our established ones and tend to matter tomorrow. Will see what they do in morning.” The Aurvanding then patted his friend on the shoulder and the two uprighted themselves, returning to the task at hand.
“I agree with the Steward,” came the words of the good master once again. “Much better for halls to be filled with sound of laughter and celebration to our loss, than sound of swords and spears against axes and hammers to ruin of us both.”
“I hate to be a downer,” bellowed Bjorn, “but I think such misfortune might prove itself inevitable before too long.”
The Aurvanding was quick to quell the line of thought. “Inevitable or not, we will continue to respect the wishes of the council, and treat them as our guests for the time being. Should any of them be foolish enough to fall to the ill of endangering Isling life, then only will be the time for hammers and axes, but not before... Let’s put the matter to rest for the time being, I’ll see what I can do now to ease the passing of the evening... for everyone.” He concluded with a knowing smile. Then, after a few more breaths, he began walking to the back of the hall, along the length of the left wall.
In the middle of the far end, atop a small set of steps, sat a tall, well furnished chair, with two equally well furnished stools on either side. The commander and his mount were still clearly content to remain in the center, surveying the merry scene of the evening. Sitting at his right was he who played the part of the herald earlier. The human seemed stately enough to be a herald, though Yngvord was unsure of whether or not he truly was one. Seated at the commander’s left was an elven female of fair complection, anything else regarding her seemed to be shrouded in mystery.
By now, Yngvord had made a right, and was about to pass the end of the inner table, when he began to notice a few ripples in his mind -- ripples left by the ever so subtle voice of wisdom. He had long since learned to heed such things whenever he noticed them, and so, almost out of instinct, he casually made another right along the inside of the inner table. There was something to do first, whatever it was he needed to figure it out. He made his way over to the other end of the inner table, where the seats were still relatively unoccupied. Taking a chair and turning it round, he sat at the corner relaxed himself, trying to solve the mystery of what he lacked for a successful audience.
The sounds of merriment were as loud as ever, but Yngvord had a certain talent for going inside himself when he needed to. His thoughts began to take shape as he continued to sit at the end of the table. The first thing he lacked wasn't hard to realize... he was alone -- an easy remedy. The second thing......... Ah! Of course, the letter. He pulled it out, verified it briefly, and returned it to his satchel, leaving the flap open. The second thing was certainly taken care of now, since the letter, although a copy, was written in the Commander's own hand. Now to bring the third mystery to light. He was sure there was a third; beyond that he could not yet say. What was it??......... ... ... ...
Yyyeeessss... That was it. The subtler things of diplomacy. There was no fourth thing -- that much he was sure of now -- and with that, he stood up, looked around, and walked toward the center of the inner table.
About a quarter of an hour later, he deliberately approached the Commander and his seeming retainers with Gerda in tow behind him. He stopped just past the last table, and made a courtly bow -- Gerda followed suit. "Happy returns of the evening your majesty, allow me to introduce myself as Yngvord of clan Aurvanding. Steward of the Eastern Provinces of the Ismark. How fares the king? and what thinks he of our sigil, now that he may inspect it as closely as he desires?"
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Post by Johnathan Cousland on Sept 21, 2013 22:16:16 GMT
I find myself mesmerized at the taste of your wonderful local dishes as for the Banner its masterfully designed shows wisdom as well as strength..... Wait did you say steward? Well you have me at a loss for words I was in the mindset that the leaders of this nation had forsaken it. I had originally come up here to check on our neighbors for my letters were met with silence. I knew not whether you were in distress and could not respond or if you harbored ill will towards us for one reason or another, as to why I brought a small army along with me. When we were let into the city and there were no leaders to meet with us we had thought to take control of the nation and offer protection to its people. So you can see why I would feel a bit surprised about this sudden turn of events.
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Post by Yngvord Aurvanding on Sept 22, 2013 3:29:25 GMT
As the Commander spoke, Yngvords face gradually took on the expression of mild shock. At one point he felt his jaw begin to drop. To which he quickly responded by bringing his left arm up across his navel, so as to place a curled index finger to his lips. The news was as surprising as it was relieving. Nontheless, his diplomatic sensibilities would not allow himself to lose composure, dispite the fact that it was growing increasingly harder to keep the emotional mix of solace, revelation, and hilarious irony from overtaking his countenance all-together.
It was an illusion -- all of it. A two sided illusion of uncertainty, assumptions, and concern that lead narrow minds to a place of mistrust and hostility. The wisdom of the high council had proven itself yet again.
"So you can see why I would feel a bit surprised about this sudden turn of events." The commander concluded.
A final bubbling of emotions forced their way to the surface, and Yngvord could not help but laugh to himself as silently as he could, grinning uncontrollably behind his hand while his brow began to furrow in disbelief. "Oh no doubt" he said with a refined air of comedy, and continued while crossing his arms. "I imagine my kin will feel equally surprised, if not relieved, when they hear what your motives were in coming here so armed. I apologize on behalf of my people for our lack of correspondence, and for a lack of proper reception. You see, we are usually well into the Harvest Season at this time of year, here in the Provinces of the Ismark. Our leaders found it difficult to make time for the matter, and have only just made their decision. In fact, not but a fortnight ago, my brother and I were summoned to their presence, and were instructed to prepare ourselves as envoys to your band within the month."
"As it happens," the Aurvanding reached into his satchel and produced a folded piece of parchment before continuing. "I have your letter on my person even now. I'll admit I asked to keep it because of the handwriting, my lord's penmanship is on par with that of our finest scribes." He said with a smile, and a spark of enthusiasm, as he came closer and held the letter across the steps at the Commander's convenience.
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Post by Dolgrún Aurvanding on Sept 22, 2013 5:42:11 GMT
Dolgrún Aurvanding --------------------Dolgrún guided his mare just beyond the fringe of the scouting troop and drew rein at an outcropping of rock where the southward road bent from east to west. The day was drawing to a close; the mountains east upon their right were blue with evening shade, and the vale below glowed with the rose and bronze of sunset. Dolgrún breathed deep the evening air, cold from the heights but tinged now with fragrant harvest, woodsmoke, the scents of home. It made him feel clean again, after weeks of scouting the highlands and driving back small bands of undead. Heavy footsteps approached the outcrop, and Dolgrún felt his shoulder tingle from the mass of cold, twice his size, standing behind him. "Hmm," it said, if rumbling counted as speech. (Not that the giant could do much about the size of his voice.) "Dolgrún, much longer when you stand there, might be till morning we come to hearth." "We shall make up the time on the smoother road. No chance had we of a good run since..." he muttered to himself, considering. "Has it been two months already? How much days, Jalf? Two moon-turns?" " Almost, since the..." This time, the rumble was honest with renewed anger. " ...since you cleanse the lake of those vile... mmm... unquiet fallen." The recent infestations of undead in the lands outlying the Ismark were perhaps the one thing that Dolgrún had seen to truly bother the Frost Giants. Neither did it make a difference that Jalf was of the local tribes closer to the Islings, tribes which kept the more warlike giants out of these territories and confined to the far north and east--for now. Undead were something Frost Giants simply could not tolerate, and the gratitude Jalf and his brethren had expressed to Dolgrún's band at the great lake had been a new experience for Dolgrún. Giants tended not to express gratitude at all. Dolgrún found that their unsettled reaction to undead was contagious, and he did not like it. The last thing they needed to deal with was fear of these un-creatures. All Dolgrún felt or wanted to feel toward them was anger and outrage. "The less we speak of it, the better," he said at last. "Come." Dolgrún urged Ren around, guiding with his knees, to rejoin the troop. The mountain path shortly turned into a wider road through less treacherous highlands, and the company's speed almost immediately doubled. Jalf the Frost Giant jogged beside Isling scouts, while Dolgrún retook his place at the head of the column. As sunset deepened, the towers of Issenheim came into view. An unusual amount of woodsmoke issued from the castle's chimneys. Something was happening. But what? "What think you of it?" asked Kayri, one of his captains, hefting her longhammer as if she, too, had the feeling there might be trouble, despite the look of a celebration. The midst of harvest season was the wrong time for celebrations. "We may soon hear," Dolgrún replied, pointing to a distant stretch of road. A lone horseman approached, hard to perceive as the sunset slipped into indigo dusk. "It is a Council rider."
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Sven
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 126
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Post by Sven on Sept 23, 2013 3:52:07 GMT
(Standing up beside the commander looking at the imposing figure of Yngvord.) Well you must forgive me sir. There seems to of been a series of miscommunications. We did not know that the majority of your people were out in Harvest this time of year. We took it as the people abandoned the lands. We were afraid that outlaws or who knows what would of swooped in and taken over for ill. We are not petty tyrants or bullies that would see your people ill. Your people have been kind and welcoming. Your culture is rich as it is alive. The beer here pales any I have tasted in my long life. Now I am Sven Von Jeggare of the Noble House of Jeggare, from across the ocean. My home is Korvosa, former colony of the great Cheliax Empire, May the Empress rule with wisdom. Here I am technically 2nd in command of this expeditionary force. We are The Band of the Hawk. We are soldiers of fortune who are a family. We help one another in our goals and we protect the forest lands to the south. I would offer you contracts of our Army. If you would like we will assist you in reclaiming your frontier for your people. We would ride alongside you and render aid in the expansion of your realm. Or if there is something that is troubling your people we would deal with. In return a boat or gold would be a kind gesture on your behalf to the hard work and dedication we would gladly give to your people. I know Commander Cousland wishes to offer you after all of this bonds of brotherly alliance and mutual aid in times of darkness.
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Post by Yngvord Aurvanding on Sept 24, 2013 15:17:18 GMT
The commander took the letter, and Yngvord heeded the man who stood upright. At the proper time, he acknowledged the words of the Jeggare with a slow nod, then grinned slightly while taking in a full breath. "Well and good -- and well worth weighing in the balance of a possible alliance with our neighbors. We've been looking to rid ourselves of those troublesome encroachers for a few years now; I'd wager you even saw a few on your way here."
"At first, they were merely a sore inconvenience, despite the shadow of eminent danger they cast over our more remote settlements. We thought it best to stay out of their way, rather than entertain the possibility of confrontation. Unfortunately, however, with the passing of every year, they continued to roam further into our territories. We've been living in the shadow of this threat for nearly six years now, and only recently has it finally come to a head. There are rumors of strange and stranger creatures wandering the mark of late; whether they are true or no, we cannot yet say."
"In either case, we simply cannot afford to relinquish any more land to these trespassers. We'd do most anything to avoid resorting to violence, but, regretfully, it seems the majority of these creatures cannot be reasoned with. There is never any small amount of risk involved in dealing with them, but we are running out of options. Any aid in dealing with this misfortune as peaceably as possible would be most welcome."
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Sven
The Band of the Hawk
Posts: 126
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Post by Sven on Sept 25, 2013 2:45:25 GMT
(Suddenly a Hawk flies into the festivities. A message attached to its talons. The scroll case is crimson. Jeggare is visibly shocked by the color of the case as he takes it. With a nod of the commander Jeggare breaks the seal and opens the case and a scroll falls out with another smaller case with the insignia of the capitol. Jeggare hands the case to the Commander. The scroll he opens and reads.) After a moment he hands it to the Commander as well. Jeggare looks at his parties faces.) Its a recall. Something has happened in the capitol. Aegis has sent us a message of extreme urgency. The scroll there is for only the commander. Prepare yourselves men. (Turning back to Yngvord) My lord, there has been a recall of our forces. Something is happening in our capitol. We must make haste. You have my word as a soldier that I will return to aid you and your country. I know my fellow brothers in arms feel the same way. However with great sadness we must make haste. For something threatens us. (Jeggare offers his hand in a warriors embrace.)
I know the commander will finalize the accord of our peoples. I know that I will consider you from this point on my brother in arms. I will ride with you any day Yngvord of the Ismark. (bowing courtly and walking quickly to the door looking back slightly...damn..I would of so enjoyed a stay here. The beer..ach by the gods the beer was worth the trip.)
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