Bloodstone [Bors]

[Théodred Heavenshield]

The note delivered by the morning raven had news of a dispute between the borders of the Northmark and the Eastmark, north beyond the Lake of Mist. The small coastal village of Blár-Strönd led by Erik of Clan Bloodstone had sent the message in a hope that the Warden of the Northmark would come and mitigate proceeding and bring the dispute to an end. The message was unclear as to what the issue was, but the wording of the message did make it clear that Jaquan the Tough of Clan Ironfist on the eastern side of the border was at fault.

Théo was not foolish enough to take Erik’s words as concrete, much in his life outside of Midvinter had him know well enough there is always two sides to a story, and he suspected that both men believe the other to be the blame for whatever the issue was. What Théo didn’t like was going in blind to this but there was no choice, it was apparent that both Clans were on the brink of war. The Eastmark is not well known to Théo, only even visited it once, but he was keen to keep the relationship between the North and Eastmark as amiable as possible.

Bors and Théo had followed the river as far north as possible before setting out the rest of the way on horseback. It is not easy traversing the Mark, between fens and rivers, mountain ranges and deep gorges it takes time to reached one’s destination anywhere in this wide land to the north of the capital. After two long weeks of riding, Bors and Théo finally walked across the black sand of the Northern coastline, the Great Maw pounding against its volcanic shores weathering the rock to a sandy beach.

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Even though it was the onset of summer, snow still clung to the rock, ice in the rock pools and the howling haunting winds off the Maw buffeting their fur lined cloaks sending a chill to their bones. They were only half a day’s ride from Blár-Strönd, but the Sun this far north only visits the lands for short hours. They would need to make camp.

“Best we find a good place to camp .. out of this infernal wind”. And the sooner they could get a fire going the better.

[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

He'd figured the sodding Warden of the North would have brought an entire company of guards with him on official business such as this. Instead here they are, just the two of them out on their own. Though he supposed they'd already made far better progress than had they brought an army with them, marching hundreds of troops through this country would've been a bloody nightmare.

At least one can't help but admire the view, as is the case with all of Midvinter.

"Aye, my lord," he got down from his horse and led it by the reins into the nearby woods to get away from the worst winds. "Over here, this should do us well for the night." How many desperate night had he been forced to spend in the wild outdoors of the far north, so far removed from any sort of civilization. This was his sort of country, the kind that tested one's right to survive and know who is in charge. And She always wins in the end.

Removing the pack off his old nag's back he unveiled the tent and got to work setting it up, and within the half-hour their little camp was good enough to live in. It was only due to Bors' stubborn nature that the white stag blew in the wind atop their tent, arguing that any bypasser should know to respect the office his lord represented. He was nothing if not a stickler for rules and tradition, clashing with the new ideas and modernities Théo would often get into his head.

"Still say we should've brought at least a few good men," he complained as he carried a large bundle of firewood inside the tent, dropping them into a pile in the corner. "We wouldn't have to run ourselves ragged every step of the way, it's not proper for a lord such as yourself to engage in menial tasks." With a long sigh he had a seat beside Théo, warming his hands over the fire only to chuckle to himself. "Just like your dear old grandpapa. Insisted on doing everything on his own, even as king. He would actually make the rounds and light each hearth in the throne room by himself, never allowing anyone else to do it for him. Each and every night." He turned to him with a smile.

"I hear your father over in Fridheim has his own carpentry workshop, right next to his home. He any good at it?"

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

As was his habit, Théo was pulling off his black leather gloves when Bors pointed the way to a good camp site, only to quickly put his gloves on again. Who's idea was it to move north. He cursed himself as the cold took his breath away and with it, any words he had ambition to speak. So all Bors got was a nod in affirmation, and to warm himself, Théo set about finding wood for the quick fire. They had made good time considering the terrain, had the sodding warden of the north brought more men they were only be half way by now. Besides Théo did not know exactly the extent of this dispute and even though the Northmen had claimed fault by the Eastmen, that was yet to be determined.

"Aye, it would have been a good idea if we wanted to remain on the road for over a month", Bors was right of course it would have been ideal but he also did not want to risk the lives of his men on some clan conflict that would not be their war. A raised eyebrow met Bors as Théo placed his pile of wood on a dry spot on a rock, "Not in my nature to stand by and watch as others do the work. I can just imagine my father's words if he ever caught me doing something like that". And subconsciously, Théo rubbed the back of his neck.

Théo pulled out a small pot for brewing caf, shoved a couple of fists full of snow in it and placed it over the fire, it would only take seconds to melt and would need more for two. Before long, hot caf bubbled in the pot and Théo poured them both a drink, it seemed Bors like the stuff almost as much as he did. "Here, .. keep you warm". Already the stars were dotting the night sky and a hint of the Northern Light began to appear, that unsettling emerald green only associated with 'you know who'.

"When my parents moved into Thainbroak, my papa did most of the restoration on the Grand Hall and changed the Usurpers sigils and bannerman to my Grandpapa's. The place was in need of restoration, that ...., bastard had let it go". Théo took a long draft of caf and allowed it to wash down slowly and feeling the warmth begin to return to his bones.

"He taught me how to carve when I was a boy, helped settle a wayward lad", he grinned at his father's patience with his firstborn. "He not only built carpentry workshop but the house next to it and that was not his first". How life was so different then as a youth.

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Aye," he nodded to himself, staring into the fire before as he took a sip of hot caf. He'd grown rather fond of it in the short time in his lord's service. "Saw it myself, after the fighting. Found the three of them; your parents and your grandfather, sitting against the back wall all tuckered out. I didn't feel like waking them up, but I remember the state of that place well. Pure disgrace, to dishonour our ancient ancestors is such a way!" He sat back after getting himself warm by the fire, stretching his legs for a few popped bones. "I may not care for the place, but the Great Hall has stood since the very first generation of Valkyri. The amount of history and memories housed there are immeasurable, and ever has it been the seat of every king since the first."

Another sip of caf made him think better thoughts, away from anything having to do with that vile man. "I am glad for you, that you grew up with such a fine man as your father. Not many are quite so fortunate, and I can only imagine what it's like out there amongst the stars." He lay down with one arm behind his head, resting the cup of caf on his chest while looking up at the canvas ceiling. "I shouldn't have spoken so matter-of-fact about him, that night with your daughter. Nobody wants to entertain the thought of their kin passing away, least of all someone so beloved by all. Least of all one so young... Anyway, I won't bring it up again."

While lying down he made the attempt to sip from his cup, carefully tipping it towards his lips only to inevitably spill some on his collar. It didn't bother Bors much and he simply wiped it off as best he could. Wouldn't make much difference to the ragged coat he always wore anyway, it's been through hell and back several times by now. As they lay there listening to the howling winds around them his eyelids began to grow heavy.

"I once wished," he muttered with slurred speech as he began to drift away to sleep, "that I could take a son or a daughter out on trips like these..." With that his slurred speech turned into a light snoring.

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

He was about to say 'let bygones be bygones' but was met with a silence only cut by snoring and Théo turned to see Bors out to it. Théo chuckled, even in slept Bors is not silent. Drawing in a deep breath, he sat by the fire feeding it and listening to the sound of the waves trying to block out Bors. It was just way to early for Théo to sleep even though the darkness was well and truly upon them. He could hear to scuffles of avian on the rocks bedding for the night, a sound of something out in the water that was foreign to him, the hiss of spray shooting up in a blast as if some large creature was coming up for air. Whatever it was had a melodic cry, soothing and almost sorrowful to the ear but strangely calming to the soul.

Just as Théo was entering this state of calm, something different pricked up his senses, all of them. Physically he stood abruptly, his hand reaching for the hilt of his saber, through the force the alert warned of approaching presences, five in number and quickly Théo covered the fire in sand to kill it. "Bors", he whispered as softly as he could. "Get up". Théo left the tent.

Their camp site was nestled between the rocks out of sight and in the dark very hard to spot unless who ever was out there had seen the glowing light of the fire. It appeared not, the five men were not coming their way. There was only the Northern Lights to provide any form of natural light and that was dim at best but Théo didn't need it. The force providing all the 'sight' he needed, never was he so pleased to have this ability taught to him at such an early age. He stood by the side of the rock, all dressed in black and nothing about him to give away his presense and he watched the men come down the beach with lit torches, swords and shields. Their direction was from the east but it was difficult to make out any sigils.

"What good is this Norbæn Véurr to us?", a bitter voice spoke to another, his voice carried on the wind. "Been up here surviving well enough without him". His companions agreed as they strode up the beach, the tone of their voices enough to tell Théo his attendance was not welcomed given the comments made about his parentage. It was difficult to see faces however one of the was force attuned and Théo suspected, he was not aware of it as the force in him was untouched and untrained in any way. Théo took note of the signature and made sure the group of men did not double back.

"Seems we were not detected", Théo finally said to Bors. "Question is .. why are they out here this time of night ... and coming from the east".

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

Bors snapped awake with a grunt, looking around in dazed confusion as he haphazardly reached for his sword. "What, what?" Eventually he figured out Théo was no longer in the tent and that the flap was wide open, sending that familiar chill to his bones. The old man scrambled out through the exit, finding his lord hiding by the rocks. He was about to ask him what's going on when the sound of voices silenced him, joining Théo in hiding and listening in.

"Come on, we can take them," he whispered as the strangers passed them by, itching for a good scrap. Of course his lord rejected the proposal with a shake of his head. Bors made a disappointed grimace not unlike that of a child being told 'no'.

Once they were certain there would be no more of them, he lifted himself up on his feet using the rock for support. Kneeling and crawling was not something he was no longer built for at his advanced age. "Aye, those were easterners, alright. There's no mistaking that accent." That same accent he'd grown up around. Now he hated them even more for making him think of home. Dreadful place, and he showed as much by spitting on the ground in their direction.

"Now, you see, this is why you bring troops while on official business," he pointed his sword at the fading torches. "Could have taught those ne'er-do-wells a lesson the only way they'll learn. Slandering your lordship's good name so blatantly..." He trailed off, muttering to himself as he returned to the tent. By speaking ill of Théodred, they might as well have spoken ill of his grandfather, something Bors could not abide. "I suppose we will have to get a move on," he returned focus on their mission. "If I had to guess, those folks are looking to launch a surprise raid on your subjects. No other reason to carry arms into the night in such numbers." Already he was preparing to break camp, rolling up their beds and dousing what's left of the fire.

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

"If we had brought troops, our position would have been compromised". Théo was in deep thought as Bors began to break camp. "Leave it", he said suddenly, "We go by foot without the horses". He kicked more sand onto the fire embers making sure it was out before finding his sword and strapping it to his waist, a gently hand rested on his lightsaber a habit to make sure it was there, which it always was.

"Don't be so certain about what you just saw, or heard", he spoke with a sense of command. He pushed back the flap of the tent and walked to the beach with purpose and in the far distance Théo could still make out the light from the torches. "We will follow them, but only to see what exactly they will do. I suspect they will do nothing", he looked at Bors with earnest. "I mean to arrive to the village tomorrow precisely as planned".

Théo trailed along the beach clinging close to the rocks for cover if one of the turned to make sure they were not been followed. The wind carried their voices down the beach and Théo knew that if was to speak or Bors, their words would not be returned to the men. "One of the men referred to me as Norbæn Véurr, only Northmen know that name". He gave Bors a pointed look, making sure he understood that these men are not from the Eastmark, but the North.

Something else was going on here this far north and Théo means to get to the bottom of it before tomorrow. "They are walking at a leisurely pace and speaking loudly for men about the attack a village". By what little light the Northern Light gave, Théo saw something dark on the surface of the sand and the only way to see it, black upon black was that it shone in the light. Kneeling down, Théo touched it with his finger tips, it was cold and wet and he raised it to his nose to smell before tasting it.

"Blood". Valkyri blood.

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Well," Bors said, dropping the bedroll at his feet to grab his personal stuff, fastening his belt around his waist and sheathing his sword. "In that case, it would seem you have some rotten eggs in your basket." Can't say he felt very good about leaving the horses, or the walk for that matter, but this was hardly the time to make fuss over such things.

"Very well, my lord," he offered a sharp nod of his head as Théo explained his intentions, then moved to follow. Though to him it seemed a bit far-fetched to assume only Northeners used the old tongue when referring to his lordship's station. As he investigated the blood on the sand, Bors reached into a leather pouch. "Hang on, this'll help..."

He pulled out a palm-sized crystal which emitted a bright light, and would to a Force-sensitive being produce a faint humming unheard by others. "I found this ages ago, in some manner of cave network I happened across. I had intended to present it to Freida on the day of our wedding." He pointed it to the ground like a flashlight, which made them realise there was more blood leading them on through the dark. "They could be returning from a raid, then? Clearly they've been in some sort of scrap, be it their blood or that of their enemies."

"Could be they've taken prisoners."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

"Well, lets go and see exactly what they have been up to", Théo stood and started along the beach again after the men. He was starting to enter a dark mood, not liking the idea that Northmen where doing something dishonourable but then not everyone is good even in the North and Théo can't be everywhere all the time. Bloodstone would have a lot of explaining to do come their meeting tomorrow.

The beach became divided by a long rocky spine and taking the path on the opposite side to the men, Bors and Théo were able to move with relative speed and without being noticed. The village was not far ahead now, the lights from the settlement glowing through gaps in the rocks and the men had lowered their voices not wishing to be noticed returning home. Three of them bid good night and headed to their homes, the last two stood and watched before entering into more secretive talks. It was difficult to make out what they were saying, but a few words indicated that they were not happy sharing the loot with the others and in time would strengthen their share by 'attrition'.

The man that was force attuned seemed to be the leader and mastermind behind this plot. Théo could sense the thrill of it all through the force, and he knew that he too would have to be careful to not allow this man to sense him, even though he might not be trained but some abilities in the force are innate and it was hard to tell which ability that was with this man.

Théo looked to Bors nodding in the direction from which they came, it was time to get back to camp.

Once a good distance from the village, "Where did you get that crystal?".

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

Bors couldn't exactly swear he knew what was going on inside the young lord's mind as they scouted the village from afar. If it were up to him, he'd have simply charged in and let the gods decide the outcome. But then battle tactics was never one of his strengths. Back in the war against the Usurper he'd been tasked with logistics and maintaining supply lines between their armies scattered across Midvinter, only occasionally getting the chance to ride into battle alongside his oath-brother. It was not a very grateful task, but an important one and he was able to swallow his warrior's pride out of sense of loyalty to Thrand. In the end, he became quite skilled at it.

If they were not going to smash some skulls, then the idea to head back to camp seemed just as well, lighting the way back the way they came using the crystal. "I told you, I found it in some caves when I was a lad. Wasn't supposed to go off exploring of course, but when have mere words been able to stop wee ones from doing stupid things, hm?" He chuckled to himself, the thought of getting a few more hours of sleep putting him in a good mood. "There were plenty more where I found it, this one just seemed to shine brighter than the others. A real bastard to remove though - had to come back a couple times with bigger and sharper pickaxes each time!"

Once back at camp, Bors slumped to the straw-covered ground inside the tent with a long sigh. "Argh, what a gods-damned mess," he then noticed the fireplace all covered in sand. "No easy living this night, it seems." No sense in trying to clean out the dirt or they'll be up all night just to get another fire going. Instead the old man rolled out his bedroll next to him and prepared to grab a few more winks.

His attention then turned to Théo and what they've just witnessed. "Don't suppose our gracious host will know anything about what just happened," he scoffed, twiddling his thumbs where he lay. "Secrecy, plotting and scheming, subterfuge... There is no honour in that. Those were the ways of the Usurper," he cautioned his lord with a stone-faced gaze. "There is no telling how many clans still owe fealty to that faen. His poison ran deep and his fingers reached far. We could be walking into a trap tomorrow."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Bors could be forgiven for not wanting to trouble himself with starting a new fresh fire for the camp, Théo on the other hand, had plans. While Bors settled himself down for the rest of the night, Théo crouched beside the dead fire and went to 'work'. Both his hands held over the small fire pit, and as Bors continued to speak, he focused through the force on the sand and lifted it all out of the pit and through it to the side leaving the stone cold coals and the remainder of the wood as if it had simply blown out by the wind. He unclipped his saber from his belt and ignited the blade which leaped high and bright, white and hot and humming with intent.

It didn't take much to get the fire restarted, just placing the tip close to the coals would have them glowing red hot soon enough and the wood burst into flame once more. "I don't have my uncles talent, but this will do", he smiled as he wondered what Bors would think if he saw fire burst from his King's eyes. Once that was done, Théo arranged his own bedding, not that it would serve much purpose, his mind was mulling over the events of the night and would not allow him sleep.

"On the surface of what we saw tonight, you might think so. But... we need to be patient to be able to find out the real truth of it", it was the Jedi way after all, not to simple take things at face value. Not only that, Théo also possessed Corellian cunning, something most stubborn action first Valkyri don't possess. "It is easy to bend the knee when it is a means to an end, Bloodstone may well be playing a game after all he sent the message to me. But those men tonight .. I believe.. are not operating under their lords instruction".

Théo pulled the fur up to his chin trying to block the cold wind from his bones, "If we are walking into a trap tomorrow. It is my intention to spring that trap". The wind was cold and strong up here in the far north, pushing away everything in it's path including the clouds which sped to the south laden with snow, before him lay the canopy of stars and the flicker of the Northern Lights, emerald green and beautiful with a hint of mockery at their center.

"Whatever you do tomorrow, don't summon the Gods through your words, you might get more than you bargain for".

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Éar's teats!" Bors practically lept out of his own skin as the strange blade came to life. "Be careful with that thing, laddie! I've seen what it can do." He remember well how his mother and father had both used theirs during the siege of Tháinbroek, carving a path through the Usurper's army. He did not much relish the idea of being on the receiving end, even if by mistake. It did the trick however, and a small fire offered at least some comfort in the freezing cold. "Well, seems we won't wake up as a pair of stiffs after all."

It was a strange world they lived in these days, getting stranger by the minute for one who grew up over a hundred years ago. The young lord certainly did not make life less strange, but as they lay looking up at the stars and the lights dancing across the night sky, the old man could not help but feel grateful for his second lease on life. He muttered to himself a few words for his oath-brother in the ancient tongue. "I'll try not to, Théodred," he smiled, pushing aside the deep wrinkles in his face. He did ponder his lord's words about his uncle however, and how he lacked the King's "talents". Perhaps he would see for himself one day.

The remainder of the night passed by unnoticed, allowing the two travelers some uninterrupted sleep to greet the coming day. Bors was first to stir early in the morning hours, as old men were prone to do for some reason. He did not sit up or get to work immediately, for doing so would surely wake the young lord at his side prematurely. Instead he simply rolled onto his side to see Théodred's head poking out of the fur bedding, studying his great-nephew's facial features more closely. Though they may not share the same blood, Bors had no other family to call him own save those of his late comrade-in-arms. The name "Greythorne" was really just uttered out of courtesy, for he had not seen home or family for too many years to count. When he was exiled, his younger brother Dorn had pounced on the opportunity to take over the Greythorne estate and disown Bors, and since he had no family of his own there was no-one to speak on his behalf or intervene.

But here next to him lay the son and grandson of two of Midvinter's greatest heroes, and in the short time he'd spent in his lordship's presence it was clear he did indeed share their noble blood. The virtues he and Thrand had fought for had not been lost after all, for they were very much alive in Théo. To spend his remaining years in service to such a brave young man was a good way to end things, he thought. By now Théodred too stirred as gentle rays of sunlight struck his face, and Bors quickly turned his gaze elsewhere in the attempt to look busy.

"Ah, so you're finally up, lad! I was worried I'd have to boot you in the ribs, which of course would have been incredibly improper and rude." He rose to his feet and stood over his lord, before pulling open the flap of their tent to reveal the calm outdoors. "It's a beautiful day, perfect for a timely arrival at Bloodstone."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

It had been a rough night, the elements not lending any help to ease the worry on Théo's mind that had taken sleep from him. The events of the previous evening odd to say the least and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that something else was going on up here in the far north. Dawn had broke over the land once more, and today Bors and Théo would discover one way or the other, what was going on. The rough voice of Bors snapped him back to the morning, and his eyes lifted to the skies, they were grey, as grey as Bors' beard and nothing beautiful about it. The wind had not stopped and Théo doubted it ever would. But there was something very beautiful about the desolate place, in nature it was clear and crisp, untouched by any intervention to mar it. The Maw stretched out to the horizon, and he had to wonder what lay beyond it. Nothing probably, one could sail unending until finding feet on the shore of the Southmark.

Throwing back the furs that kept the cold at bay, Théo was already dressed having not got out of his clothing, there was no point to that. And in quick time Bors and he got the camp packed and loaded to the horses. "We will arrive just in time", he said as he pulled the leather straps to secure the load. "Keep a good eye on everything around you, especially Bloodstone's men".

Théo climbed into the saddle, and settled himself waiting for Bors to do the same. "You know you snore like a boar", he teased the old man, "I assume that is why you have that as your sigil". He encouraged his mount forward and through their place among the rocks until turning the horses head toward the village. It was only a half hour ride and the first signs of the village could be seen ahead, as they approached he could see someone dart away no doubt to inform Bloodstone of their immediate arrival.

They entered the village, all eyes upon them as they passed along the main street toward what looked like the Hall and outside stood the guard of Erik Bloodstone. Behind them, the doors opened and out walked a large imposing man adorned in fur and metal, and a bastard sword by his side. Théo shot Bors a long look, before dismounting and walked toward the man. "Lord Bloodstone, it is an honour to meet you", he said pulling off his black gloves to shake the man's hand.

"M'Lord Heavenshield, welcome to Blár-Strönd", taking Théo's hand in a firm grip, a lot can be said about a man through his handshake.

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[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Hah, that's funny," the old man scoffed before pulling himself into the saddle with an exerted grunt. "You purr like a little lion cub." There was truth to what Théo had made mention of, however; even his damn name was a play on words! At this late stage in life he was more boar than man, grunting and ill-tempered just waiting to die.

The remainder of their journey went without a hitch, as daylight showed them the direct path towards the town of Blár-Strönd rather than making them fumble their way through the dark. The state of said settlement however, did nothing to put the feeling of unease to rest. There were plenty of guards around, all heavily armed and armoured as if expecting a fight. And these men had a mean look about them, the kind which reminded Bors of the bought men of the Usurper. Watching his lord dismount and approach this Erik Bloodstone, he kept a firm hand on the grip of his sword, ready to charge in the case of foul play. Even their lord carried arms; an odd way of welcoming a supposed ally.

Reluctantly he passed the reins of his old nag over to a Bloodstone man who led both their horses off to be stabled. "You will address our liege properly, Lord Bloodstone," Bors interjected with a stern gaze, ever the firm believer in proper procedure between subordinate and superior. Erik simply glared at the old man, doing nothing of the sort. No doubt Théo would attempt to keep everyone friendly towards each other. There would be no shaking of hands between the two of them. Bors was not impressed though.

"In case you forget, this man is Théodred of House Heavenshield, Warden of the Northmark and Lord of Norvegr-fen. Firstborn son of Lord Thurion Heavenshield, grandson of the Dawnbringer Himself, and the nephew of the bloody Phoenix King! And you will show him the respect he is owed."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

“Shall we go inside”, Théo said gesturing to the main hall. As the members of Bloodstone’s guard followed their lord, Théo turned to Bors with a look that told him to cool his heels. “I think they know all that”, he couldn’t help a grin.

Once inside the main hall, Bloodstone took up his place at the head of the long table designed to seat the main leaders of the clan. As part of the protocol, Théo was offered an honorary place at the table on the right-hand side of Erik. Many of the men in his village, warriors that stood by their lord through thick and thin were here to listen to the talks.

Théo cast his eyes among them looking for the men Bors and himself had seen the night before, it was difficult to tell which of them they were, it was too dark to place a firm fix on their features. However, Théo had one advantage they did not, the Force. It was time to be patient, and no doubt in time they would reveal themselves unwittingly. One thing that was apparent through the Force, Bloodstone had no ill will or ill intent toward him, there was no deception on his part.

He began, by raising his hand to bring silence over the murmuring gathering. “My Lord Norbæn Véurr, the people of Blár-Strönd welcome you, although we do so with heavy hearts. For the last few months our village has been attacked by marauders from the Eastmark, with no provocation from us. They reave upon our shores, taking what they can all in the cover of darkness. They are cowards that will not fight us, they know that if they do, they will meet with warriors the best in the Northmark has to offer” , It was like a rallying cry and none in the room disappointed Bloodstone call as they stood up to roar their approval.

But even as Bloodstone sat proud in his words, there was something that lay beneath them, a guarded sense of sorrow, that puzzled Théo the most. There was a piece of the puzzle missing, and Théo would find that out sooner or later. And certainly not here in the eyes of them all.

Théo stood.

“Good people of Blár-Strönd, I assure you that I”, he turned toward Bloodstone, “We shall leave no stone unturned to find out who is behind this”, his words not speaking of any direct accusation toward the Eastmark for he knew that Bloodstone had traitors in his midst. “And justice will be served swiftly upon them. Hard”. He let the words hang in the air for a moment, his eyes narrowed and stern as he took in all their faces. There was a group of men standing toward the back of the Hall that shifted and glanced at one another, Théo locked eyes with one of them, all he got in return was defiance without words.

“However, before we proceed my Lord Bloodstone, I shall speak with you privately”, Théo stood and did not wait for invitation to leave but headed for the back rooms of the main hall.

[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

From where he stood, close to his lord with both hands resting upon the pommel of his sword, for what it was worth this Erik Bloodstone seemed to at least care about his people. Whether there was truth in Easterners being the ones to blame remained to be found out; why anyone would risk the involvement of the Warden of the Northmark was beyond him, for they acted with the authority and justice of the High King himself backing them. Whoever the culprits are, they've certainly gone and made a mess of things if keeping a low profile was their intention.

As Théo asked to talk privately behind closed doors, Bors placed a cautioning hand upon the young man's shoulder. "I'll be right outside. If he tries anything..." He didn't complete his sentence with words but with a firm gaze. Anyone making an attempt on his lordship's life would be met with the blade, no matter the cost to his own.

Following the two lords to the back rooms, he stopped just short of the threshold and leaned his back against the wall, taking up guarding duty for the duration of the private meeting. He kept a close eye on anyone in the hall, suspicious-looking or not. There were times he longed for the southern marks, such as the South or West; there the people are warm and welcoming, whereas the North only allows the existence of the hardest bastards to wander Midvinter. Meaning everyone in the room pretty much looked suspicious to him, which made it terribly difficult to narrow it down.

But what then caught his eye was a humble member of what he assumed to be Lord Bloodstone's house staff, busy sweeping the floors. When she looked up he could see the many decades written on his face, same as he. Her eyes narrowed, as if trying to recall something. She then approached Bors, broom at her side and a boney index finger pointing at him. "I know you from somewhere..." she began. "Beg you pardon, my lady, I have never set foot in this place until now," Bors offered a soft smile, humouring what he presumed to be senility.

"You... are Grey-Boar," it came to her, which wiped the smile off Bors' face. The old woman took a step back and offered her best curtsy, supported on her broom. "Not many in this hall remembers the long and dishonourable reign of the Usurper, not as you and I." She mention of said Usurper made her spit on the floor in disgust, only having to clean it up moments later. Bors didn't say anything, he was so mesmerised by just meeting someone of his own generation. "I remember the day you came to my village, Grey-Boar and Grey-Wolf. I was a proud mother of three sons, and when you came calling for the overthrowing of that... ghastly man, all three signed up. They were all killed storming the gates of Tháinbroek." She spoke with nothing but fondness for her sons. "I know they are in Beornskald, with their father. They came to me in a dream and said as much."

The old lady reached for his hand and placed a kiss upon it. "Gods bless you, Grey-Boar." Bors knew not what to say, but cupped her feeble hands in his. "It would seem, then, that we are both waiting to be reunited with our loved ones," he finally spoke, his mouth dry from the sudden show of gratitude towards him. Back in the day, it was his oath-brother who received all the praise for defeating the Usurper, and Bors was fine with it; he was their rightful king, and deserved to be honoured. Seeing Thrand on the throne was all he ever wanted.

A thought came to mind regarding their mission. "My lady, might I ask something of you?" The woman nodded, leaning in closer. "Something strange is going on between the Bloodstones and these supposed Eastmark raids. During our stay, might I trouble you to keep an ear and eye open for any suspicious behaviour as you go about your day?" Her weary face lit up, excited to take part in something so seemingly important. If the Grey-Boar requested something of her, she would deliver.

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Once the door was closed behind them, Théo walked the room as Bloodstone took up his position behind a table, he was looking at Théo searchingly unclear as to why his lord had broken protocol like this. It made him on edge and Théo could sense that. He was pleased that Bors would be on guard just outside the door should things go pear shaped which it might do in all likelihood. Especially is Bloodstone took what he was about to say wrongly.

He raised a hand in response to Bloodstone offering a seat, Théo preferred to stand given the situation. “My Lord, .. Erik”, he began, “I don’t you summon me all the way here to help you with a clan dispute”, he said frankly, after all Bloodstone could be able to handle that much himself.

“I can’t help you if you are keeping information from me, so what is it?”, he stopped his pacing to stand firmly in front of the man. Bloodstone raked his fingers through his hair and stood up and began his own pacing.

“I must apologise Mi’lord”, he was clearly agitated and quickly reaching his wits end. “It is my daughter Mi’lord, the Eastern Clans have her. They took her some weeks back and they are demanding ransom for her safe return”. He stopped and looked resigned at his lord. “If I don’t pay up, they will present me with her head on a pike”.

“Your men, you trust all of them?”, Théo suddenly asked, and to Bloodstone it was completely unexpected and off topic and he showed it on his face. “I arrived yesterday, with my man Bors. We camped outside the village along the beach front. Through the night a group of men passed us, unaware of us and they were heading here. Your men. Their weapons dripping with blood”.

“Tell me Erik, did you send them?”. Bloodstone clearly did not, he stumbled backward to find his chair and sat down heavy which answered Théo’s question. “I did not think so”.

“Bors!”, he yelled loud enough Bors would hear him through the door. Once Bors entered the room, “It is time to start the hunt”, he said simply, it was time to route out the traitors.

[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Bors!"

The old man's snapped in the direction of the room behind him, immediately on high alert. "If you see or hear anything, come to the guest house where we will be staying. It'll bear the White Stag," he briefly concluded his instructions for the aged woman, who smiled and nodded before resuming her work of sweeping the floors. Bors came storming through the closed door, practically knocking it off its hinges, eyes fixed on Lord Bloodstone as he approached Théo. His hands clasped behind his back, he nodded. "Aye, Your Lordship," he replied, eager to start knocking heads around for information. Before following Théo out the door he gave a mean look to Erik, the kind only the old were capable when scolding the young. He then turned on his heel and left.

"I take it the meeting proved fruitful, my lord," he inquired as they strode through the meeting hall still containing people not sure whether they should await their lord's return or just leave like the rest had. Bors stepped ahead of Théo, pushing the hapless fools out of the way to find the exit. Once outside his lungs took in the fresh air. Inside proved too stuffy and crowded to his liking.

"How do we proceed," he asked, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. His gaze wandered between each man passing by seemingly going about their business, trying to determine whether they had something to hide. The voices they'd overhead the previous night had all been male, so he didn't bother with the women until suggested otherwise.

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Théo left Erik in his room and closed the door behind him. He pulled Bors away to the end of the corridor to get out of earshot the best they could before speaking. “We need to find out everything we can about that group of men at the back of the room in the meeting”, proceeding from here was going to be difficult and dangerous mostly for the daughter of Bloodstone.

“One of them was there last night on the beach, he is force attuned and I am not sure he is aware of it. But we must proceed with caution”. It was difficult to tell at this stage if the man had any awareness of the force and if he did, could he use it. He would be no match for Théo though, that much was clear to him.

“We need to find out what we can about them, keep our eyes and ears open. I am going to contact my Uncle .. err, the King. I know nothing of the Eastmark and the clans that border the North, he might”. As much as most of Midvinter does not use high tech, the family does. Those members of the family understand the importance of it when it comes to leading the Marks and doing their best to protect the peoples of Midvinter, this was just one way in which they can and get answers quickly.

Théo pulled out his holo device from the folds of his cloak and punched a link through to [member="Thyrian Hearthfire"]. While they waited for a response, “I think a visit to the village forge is our next step. See if there have been any unusual commissions for weapons recently and who requested it”. Also, to see if there had been any movement of ore into the village that might have come from the Eastmark.

In the next beat, the image of the King of Midvinter shimmered in blue on the portable holodisplay. As protocol demanded, Théo bowed his head to the king his uncle, which only lasted a moment before a sense of familiarity was placed in its stead. “Uncle, the trouble in the Northmark with the East is as reported. However, there has been a development. Bloodstone’s daughter is held captive for ransom. I believe that there is treason, men of Bloodstone are responsible for the unrest which has not been ordered or condoned by their lord. Can you tell me everything you know of the Eastmark Clans?”. As King, Thyrian had been informed of the unrest and wanted to receive progress of the situation.

[member="Bors Greythorne"]​

 

[Bors Greythorne]

"Right, I'll go see if I can find where they keep their ravens--" Bors looked around only to find his lord had produced a small apparatus of some sort. At first glance the old man scoffed, having seen how more and more people these days had taken to adopting off-world technology; horseless carriages which soared on the winds for instance, or those glowy swords the Heavenshields like to carry around all the time. Bors knew very little about this 'Force' or any other kind of magic - his trust was but in good men and good steel.

But when he saw the likeness of the bloody Phoenix King himself appear in the palm of Théo's hand, old eyes grew wide with amazement and awe. And while he had never met the firstborn son of his oath-brother in person, he could tell that this man was a king. "Nephew," the hologram replied, to even more astonishment from Bors. "I see," Thyrian rubbed his chin while pondering to himself. "This is troubling news, indeed. It would seem foul play is at work between the lords of North and East. The Eastmark as a whole is overseen by House Stoneheart - they are the oldest and most powerful of the eastern clans, so naturally I charged them with keeping the peace."

"However, I do not believe Lord Aubron is to blame for these events. More likely a smaller-scale feud between neighboring clans, since Blár-Strönd sits so close to the border. And their closest neightbor, is Clan Hogsmead." His arms crossed over his chest. "The Bloodstones and Hogsmeads have long been at each other's throats, and I doubt either clan even remembers what started it. But over the generations more and more trespasses are recorded and the blame on each side is carried over from son to son. I know this because Clan Hogsmead in particular likes to send me ravens with detailed accounts of Clan Bloodstone's offenses, bloody fools..."

The King shook his head, only to turn his attention to the old man beside his nephew. "This your man, Théodred?" When the face of the hologram turned his way, Bors bowed his head and averted his gaze. "Your Grace," he practically got down and kneeled on the spot had he not been stopped by Théo. "Forgive me, Your Grace, it's just... You remind me of someone I hold most dear. You... You wear the crown well, my King." Thyrian knew not this man nor could he have guessed of whom he spoke, but he offered Bors a nod of appreciation nonetheless before returning to his nephew.

"Lord Heavenshield, continue the investigation as you deem necessary. You act with the Crown's authority in this matter, let nothing stand in your way in seach for the truth. Keep me apprised of any developments. Thyrian, out." The hologram flickered before shutting off.

Bors stared at the device in Théo's hand, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Slowly his gaze lifted, and he nodded to himself. "He is his father's son. My brother's son," he spoke proudly, then simply wandered off towards the smithy.

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​