Repairing Damages

Hall of Fire -- Creatrach Keep

The Hall of Fire is the main eating and entertaining hall in the keep. It is not only a place to exchange stories of travels and battles, but also where the clansfolk living in the keep eat their meals. Two hearths lay on the long walls, one for the cooking of the meals and containing large cauldrons, the other is for relaxation by and is surronded by various wooden furnishings. The table in the middle of the rooms almost runs the entire length of this room. It is quite plain but has a strip of red Bear cloth running its length. At the far end of the table is a larger chair than the rest for the Chieftain of the clan. Above that chair on the far wall is another rampant bear tapestry not unlike the one in the main foyer. Under that on the wall a door leading to perhaps the Chieftain\'s chambers. Next to the cooking hearth is another larger door that leads to various clansfolk chambers and the Guest Quarter.

Contents:

Olmys

Draur(#26745Vnp)

Obvious exits:

Red Door leads to Chieftain\'s Chambers -- Creatrach Keep.

Archway leads to Main Foyer -- Creatrach Keep.

[Diarmad]

It is late evening in Creatrach Keep.  The remnants of the ransacking of Brodie’s quarters are still evident in the debris that is scattered about.  For this is not the Bear clan of recent years that prided itself in keeping the hallways neat and tidy.  There are scuffmarks, mud and spilled ale all about.

The large room is warm from the blazing hearth that also gives the room light.  At a table, with the remains of a late supper still about, Diarmad sits with a handful of his own men.  No other Fiann, strangely enough.  He waits patiently for Raconil to arrive, having summoned him properly and respectfully earlier.

[Raconil]

The soft clacking together of the wood carved emblems of dove and raven announce the arrival of Raconil. The hood of his black robe is pulled up and conceals his face in the dark shadows of the cowl as he inclines his head respectfully towards Diarmad.

\"I was watching the arrivals of the first of the Fianni and their men. When I was told you had need of me.\"

[Diarmad]

“Elder Raconil.  Thank you for coming at such a late hour.”  Diarmad stands to show respect and gestures towards a seat at the head of the table.

“If you are hungry, I can have the servant bring you some food.  A simple fare, of course.  Times are lean, especially with the winter coming.”  He is relatively clean, compared with, say, Brodie.  His beard is full but neatly trimmed, and his voice resonates with power, even in conversational tone.

“Fian Alois Odhar has arrived.  Well, his mother did, of course.  She was screaming about some bandits having stolen her goats but ..” The man flaps his wrists and simulates a flapping mouth with his fingers.  “These are things that can wait.  A larger threat looms before us, Elder.  And that is why I have asked you here.”

[Raconil]

Raconil waves the way the offer of food and seats himself at the table. He lifts a hand to lower the hood of his robe and eyes Diarmad for a moment before he gives a nod of agreement. \"There are threats on all sides of us Fian,\" he states. \"That is why the selection of a Ceann should be utmost priority. However, I believe it is for other business you have summoned me.\"

[Diarmad]

Diarmad looks into the reflective eyes of the Guardian and nods.  “I wanted to talk to you before the others arrived, before the halls fill with the sound of thumping chests and burping ales.  I wished to talk to you about a mission that will require much wisdom.  I talk about the contingent of men who now take Redveryne hostage.”

Here, he takes a deep and troubled sigh, before seating himself.  “Ale?” He asks the elder.

[Raconil]

\"I am fine,\" Raconil says, refusing the offered ale as he folds his arms before his chest.

Again he looks at Diarmad in silence, his eyes searching for something in the others face. \"Your brother\'s folly,\" he says flatly. \"Are you wishing to continue in his madness, or do you wish someone to bring them home?\"

[Diarmad]

“My brother had too much of my mother’s blood running through him,” the younger Diarmad grins.  “A good woman, but she had a temper even father could not control.”

He waves away one of his men who attempts to fill his mug.  “I can fill it myself.  Unlike Brodie, I do not drink until I am blind.”  He smiles thinly before taking a deep draught.  The mug he sets down is empty.

“I fought against him. I told him that sending an army to aid Baodan was about the most ridiculous scheme ever.  I found out later that he plotted the takeover of Redveryn with Brodie.  Brodie!  That drunken thug!”  He shakes his head.  “Well they are both dead, for what it’s worth.  Brodie may not be buried in the ground but he might as well be dead.” He folds his hands on the table and lowers his voice.

“But there may still be an opportunity to salvage this plan.”

[Raconil]

Raconil\'s gaze stays locked firmly upon Diarmad as he speaks. \"What is it you wish to salvage?\" he asks. \"Redvyrne has been captured, a farmstead raided and its people slaughtered, the Bear have greatly wronged clan Wulf. You may drive them to join with this Feent of Stag, if Feent does intend to use his army against Bear. What chances do you think the Bear stand if caught between Stag and Wulf?\"

[Diarmad]

Diarmad nods, wincing with each point Raconil makes, as if multiple stakes are being driven into his body – for his brother’s stupidity.  He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair.

“I know that Baodan was a traitor to the Wulf clan.”  He says, slowly.  “What if the Bear can make a wrong, right?”  When his eyes open, they are gleaming.

“What if someone of stature convinced the Wulf clan that we had nothing to do with this outrage?  What if this person could bring proof that Kedhern and Brodie acted in collaboration with Baodan who planned to make himself Ceann by deceiving his own clan?”  He unfolds his hands and leans into the table.  “What if a Guardian can bring justice to the Wulf clan by executing the traitor, and as a show of good faith, we return Redvyrne?”

[Raconil]

Raconil gives a nod of agreement to each of the questions put forth by Diarmad. \"It will also be made known that both Kedhern and Brodie acted on their own? That the council was not consulted about any of this?\" he asks. \"Make that known and I will remove this Baodan from Redvyrne, but before I depart I wish to bring with me the name of the Ceann de Bear. Since it is only he who can make an offer to the Wulf.\"

[Diarmad]

“It is my belief that after such a show of good faith on our part, it would be difficult, even for Wulf, to turn their fangs upon us if the Stag decides to court them.  My biggest fear is a joint army of Wulf and Stag, attacking Bear.”  The concerned expression momentarily shifts into an embarrassed smile.  “I will confess, Elder.  That keeping the lush farmlands of Redvyrne did cross my mind.  I could see why my brother and that drunk Brodie were tempted.”

Diarmad closes his eyes and nods deeply at Raconil’s words.  “I may be dishonoring my brother’s name in so doing, but the welfare of the whole clan must come before all else.  As much as it pains me, I will let it be known that Kedhern acted unwisely along with Brodie.”

The popping of the burning log from the hearth draws his gaze to the fire.  “A new Ceann will be named soon.  As soon as the Fianni can be assembled and a council called.  Will that do, Elder?”

[Raconil]

Raconil gives that stiff nod once more. \"I will take that ale now,\" he says.

\"Will you be seeking the position for yourself?\" he asks. \"Or will the mhic Kedhern\'s put their support behind another?\"

[Diarmad]

Diarmad, again, waves off one of his men who begins to make a motion to fetch the ale.  “No, I will do the honors.”

The younger brother of Kedhern pours the dark ale into one of the clean mugs, pouring from the same jug that he just drank from.

“It is my intent to seek the position, aye.”  He tilts the jug back as the thick amber liquid reaches the rim.  “If the other Fianni will choose the brother of a man who almost destroyed their own clan with his greed and short-sightedness, then I would do my best to clear my family’s name by serving the clan.”

He sets down the jug and offers the mug to the Guardian.  “Do you think me foolish to even try?”

[Raconil]

Raconil wraps his fingers about the mug, but does not lift it to drink. Instead he peers silently into the dark liquid. \"So long as your intentions are as you say, then you are no fool. To serve the clan and Dunland, those should be the goals of all men, women, and children.\"

He lifts his eyes from the ale and finally lifts the mug to take a small drink. \"Ceann is not a position that I would wish,\" he says then. \"The road ahead is dark and dangerous. There is not only the Stag and Wulf, but the Hawk and these rebels they\'ve gathered. You may well spend the rest of your life repairing all the damage done in the past years.\"

[Diarmad]

Diarmad maintains his focus on the old man.  “I hope to do more than just repair damage.”  His voice rises slightly.  “I hope for something better.  For our clan.  For all of Dunland.”

He drops his gaze respectfully.  “If I am chosen, that is.  First thing’s first.  Brodie’s wife and her child.  They are locked in the dungeon for the time being.  My men are keeping watch.  Will we await the new Ceann to determine their fate?”

[Raconil]

Raconil spreads his hands out before him. \"Who am I to determine their fate?\" he asks. \"I can reccomend, but I can not determine. Nor can you, the meteing out of justice is the Ceann\'s domain. If you were to sentence the woman in anyway, it will give any opponents who may rise against you grounds to accuse you.\"

He takes another drink from his mug. \"I do not believe the woman knows anything of Brodie\'s whereabouts or of the items that disappeared with him, and she has recieved more punishment at his hands than any crime would merit. I would consider mercy.\"

[Diarmad]

“The people are eager to place the blame on something – anything, anyone, for the decline of our clan.”  Diarmad shakes his head at the men who begin to protest at such a statement.  “Perhaps we overcompensated in ridding the clan of a Lady Bear, and anything remotely resembling something soft and feminine, such as tender mercies.  Perhaps we should re-think our ways.”

In the distance, a pack of dogs bark their warning, followed by the sound of a wagon wheel.

“Another Fian arrives,” he nods at one of the men.  “Go and greet him.”

Diarmad returns his gaze to Raconil.  “Elder Raconil, I thank you for your wise words.”