eFate: An MMO Story Chapter 27: Interlude - Council Meeting

Hearing the door slam as Eric left the barracks, Alistair reached below his desk and brought up a crystal. Engraved upon the crystal were numerous runic arrays, containing the dimly pulsating light trapped within.

"I'm convening a council meeting, everyone meet at Flen's hall in fifteen minutes," Alistair growled into the crystal.

"A council meeting? Now? It's the middle of the day," a voice emerged from the crystal in response.

"Yes. There's a serious threat to the safety of the village. I need all council members to be in attendance. Even you Morningstar."

"Fine, but you owe me lunch."

Rolling his eyes, Alistair looked back at the crystal, "What about the rest of you? Everyone good to make it?"

"I'll meet ye there. Just let me finish up at the forge," a different voice spoke up. Following this, several other voices gave their assent before the crystal went silent. Hauling himself to his feet Alistair sighed, taking a second look at the red-maned wolf pelt at the top of the pile. Grabbing the pelt, he exited the office, locking the door behind him as he left for Ironspear Hall.

Ironspear Hall was slightly better lit than several hours previously. The enormous wooden table that filled the cavernous main hall was now occupied by a number of different people, including both Flen Ironspear and Tom the Blacksmith.

"Glad you could make it Alistair, especially considering you're the one who called this council meeting," a darkly dressed woman said sarcastically. Her pale skin reflecting the dull torchlight that filled the hall.

"I see you're still alive Lucy, I'm surprised you showed up. I would've thought you'd be out tormenting faeries or blowing up your lab again." Alistair responded darkly.

This got a small laugh from what appeared to be a priestess. Dressed in dark brown robes, with her flaming red hair left uncovered, she giggled, "He's got you there, Lucy."

Lucy rolled her eyes, "Mind telling me why I had to leave my busy schedule of tormenting faeries and blowing up my lab then? I'm making good progress on a new spell and don't appreciate the interruption."

"Now now, Morningstar, I'm sure Captain Alistair has a very good reason to convene the council," said the only non-human at the table. A slightly portly halfling with a goatee and a bored look on his face.

"Before we get started would anyone like anything? I was just about to have lunch," Flen interjected. Several voices instantly clamored for food and drinks and Flen raised his hands, "Alright I'll grab some tea and I'll ask Moira to make some extra sandwiches. It shouldn't be too long." With that Flen disappeared. As Alistair took a seat, the council members alternated between chatting with each other and giving him quick glances, like schoolchildren sneaking a glance at the teacher when they should be working.

As Flen reemerged with a tray of drinks and a platter of sandwiches, the mage, Lucy spoke up again, "So Alistair, what's all this about? You haven't called a council meeting since the king cut the militia funding three years ago."

"I had ta leave Tarn alone wit' the forge. This better be good," Tom rumbled. Craig echoed this sentiment.

Flen cleared his throat, "I'm sure Alistair has a good reason to bring us all together, right Alistair?" He asked, giving the militia captain a pointed look.

Alistair nodded, "One of the new otherworlders who joined the militia just brought this back from Stillwood Forest," he said, throwing the wolf pelt down on the table.

"It's a red-maned wolf pelt?" Craig the fletcher asked uncertainly, his dark features set in a confused stare.

"I don't see anything special about it," Tom agreed. Crossing his enormous forearms as he leaned back in his chair.

Ignoring them Alistair prodded the pelt towards Flen, "You're the chief. You've hunted in Stillwood Forest your entire life. Do you see what's special about this?"

Grabbing the pelt, Flen looked curiously at it. Turning the fur over and over in his hands. Suddenly his face turned pale, looking up at Alistair in horror.

"This isn't-"

"Aye. It is."

"We're in trouble," Flen said gravely, "Lucy prepare to send a message to Seacove City. Inform them that worg mounts have been spotted in Stillwood Forest for the first time in 30 years."

The hall was silent, Lucy covered her mouth in shock while Tom and Craig both looked like they'd just heard their mothers had died.

"Worg riders? In Stillwood Forest? Are you sure, Flen?" Tom asked in a low voice. Flen nodded gravely in response.

"This pelt bears the scars that worg training leaves. See the distinctive white marks beneath the scruff and next to the legs? Those are from the worg harness and the whips. When the wolves are being trained as worgs, their handlers apply violence liberally. This results in mounts that are both subservient to their riders and ferocious to enemies. The riders themselves are considered enemies if they fall off. The worgs will eat their own riders should they appear weak in front of them," Flen explained.

"But red-maned wolves are fairly weak aren't they?" The priestess asked in a confused voice, "Shouldn't we be able to kill them fairly easily?"

"Goblins use wolves like these as scout mounts. Larger wolves are their battle mounts. The presence of red-maned wolves that have been worg'd means that the Northern host is on the move once more," Alistair warned gravely. "None of you fought in the last war against the Ironfrost King, but his legions are terrifying and extremely well trained for monsters. Worgs would not be seen down here if he was not probing our defences."

Slamming his fist down on the table, Tom let out an annoyed shout.

"Damnit! Why'd it have te be now? With Mos Danreir in the south preparing fer war. And the unrest in the western kingdoms. We don't even have enough iron te outfit our own men! The kingdom still wants more and now we've got some monster king te worry aboot?"

Flen sighed, "Calm yourself Tom. The king is levying taxes because he foresaw the eventuality of a war between the other kingdoms and Novanalba. Our resources are better used in the hands of highly trained knights and the standing army than in the hands of mostly untrained militia."

"The militia would be more trained if the stingy ole bastard would give us the funding for it," Craig muttered. Alistair snorted at this, not refuting the fletchers' claim. Flen rubbed his temple.

"For now ramp up the defenses. Tell the militia to be cautious, if the Ironfrost King's forces really are in the area then we can't afford to lose any militia due to carelessness," he ordered.

"What about the otherworlders? Where do they fit in with all this? It's hardly a coincidence that they appeared on the same day we receive this news," Lucy argued.

"The otherworlders were sent by the Gods. Them arriving today is because of the Gods foreseeing that now is our time of need. We must trust them," the priestess murmured. Clasping her hands together. Flen nodded, "The otherworlders are on our side. At least for now. Use them as scouts and hunters. Ask them to clear out monsters. Alistair, are the funds from the kingdom sufficient to offer rewards for meritous service?"

Alistair nodded, "We can supply the best with adequate rewards. But for most they'll have to earn better weapons and equipment the hard way."

"Alright, make it known that otherworlders who can kill worgs or minions of the Ironfrost King shall be rewarded for their troubles. Those who slay officer rank enemies or above will receive greater rewards. Also post bounties for healing herbs. I fear we shall have a need for them." Flen said grimly.

"Are we absolutely sure this wasn't a rogue worg? There was no rider found nearby was there? If we start preparing for war, trade will be heavily impacted," said the Halfling, speaking up for the first time since the start of the meeting.

"Like I said earlier, worgs are only too keen to eat their riders should their riders show weakness," sighed Flen. "I understand that this will cut into your trade, Burgess. But if we don't prepare now then this village may not survive the winter."

Muttering to himself, the halfling Burgess stood down. Shooting an angry glare at Flen who ignored him as he continued, "Lucy, send word to each of the surrounding villages after you're done sending word to Seacove. Maria, ensure that our stores of healing herbs and bandages are secure and ready to be used. Craig, Tom. Both of you continue to make weapons to outfit the militia. Try to ensure that the otherworlders get fair prices. I don't want one of our own to die because an otherworlder couldn't afford better weapons." Flen said, looking hard at Craig who raised his hands in surrender.

"Burgess, see if you can import a few sets of armour. Don't strain your funds. But I'd like to see if we can convince some otherworlders to set up their homes here. They're more likely to do so if we can provide items they need. Alistair, I trust you know best of all of us what needs to be done. See to the militia." Flen ordered. Burgess nodded, scowling as he did so. Alistair simply looked grim.

"Alright you're all dismissed. We can arrange another council once we find out more information," Flen said heavily. As the council members stood up to leave, Maria remained seated, her knuckles white as she clasped her hands in prayer.

"The Ironfrost King returns. The nights of the long howls return. May the Gods help us all." Maria whispered.

Chapter end