Mein Haus, Mein Regiere

[Vasolt]

(Solo. Takes place two years after Salvar's Civil War. This (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?19462-A-Field-Guide-to-Salvar&highlight=field+guide+to+salvar) is being used as primary source material. This thread is not intended to be written for canon, and should not be interpreted as such. Thanks.)

Foreword

Two long and harrowing years have passed since the conclusion of the Salvar's civil war between the Crown and its Church which has torn the entire country asunder. Some have begun to call it The Long War while monks reach for their quills and dip them in ink as they record the agonizing and brutal conflict that had consumed Salvar for years. Knife's Edge, the kingdom's capital, is in ruins after being the center of the battle that proved to be a savage struggle between the League of Salvic States and the Church of the Ethereal Sway. It too, also proved to be the last, violent gasp of the country before it was plunged into chaos. Saint Denebriel, leader of the Church of the Ethereal Sway, was slain by a group of heroes seeking to end her plot to bring the country under her rule. With her death, the Church which had been embroiled in conflict with the League after its ruling body, the Vagarand, called its banners quickly found itself on the losing end of the war to the Salvar's nobility. The result after the League stormed the capital to wrench it from the hands of the Church led to a months long siege where both sides fought through the city, street to street until Salvar's nobles destroyed the remaining presence of the Church of the Ethereal Sway in Salvar. After winning the city, members of the Vagarand came to the ruins of Knife's Edge to sit in judgment of the Church's remaining leadership, the Clergy. The result had been a series of hangings for all members of the Clergy and the rest of the Church's members who managed to survive the war were put to the sword. Those, if any, that remained from the Church of the Ethereal Sway have gone underground or even fled the country. Those that managed to escape persecution and with their lives as the League continued to search and root out any remaining members of the opposition in the realm are left with very bitter fruit to swallow. However, they must do so quietly while some, more embittered and incensed then others, wait patiently for the right time to strike and rise again.

The kingdom of Salvar was left in ruins after the war. The King of Salvar, Iorlan Rathaxea, having either fled the country in exile or died as a result of the war has no heirs left to take up the crown and the throne in Knife's Edge is left vacant. House Rathaxea, Salvar's ruling dynasty has lost its claim to the throne with much of its family having been killed, in hiding or remaining silent as Salvar is consumed by chaos. The nobles, barons and baronesses, that have managed to survive the war and retain control of their holdings and fiefdoms across all of Uroda have begun to fight and bloody the countryside once more in the choosing of a successor to rule as the new King of Salvar. With the country's government far too weak and crippled by having both its sides effectively lose the war with each of their leaders dead, this period of uncertainty has led to new strife within all of Uroda. With only the nobility left to support it, but much of it far too busy warring with one another in order to keep their holdings, people and precious coffers under their thumbs during this great upheaval it looks as if both the kingdom and the country of Salvar are on the brink of collapse.

The League of Salvic States, after winning the war, was quickly reined in by the Vagarand who saw the opportunity and vacuum of power within the country too precious to pass up. It also seemed as if this was the best and only remaining opportunity to restore order within the country, but the Vagarand had remained silent. The Vagarand had left the ruined capital in the hands of the nobles and their hosts, to instead tend to their own schemes and machinations along the western coast. It is said that the oligarchy, among Uroda's most powerful baronies, continues to rise within the West and are working with the League and the Vogruk-Stokes Company to consolidate their power. It is said that while the kingdom of Salvar writhes and dies, ignoring the cries and the bloodshed of the country's people, the Vagarand look only to the future when they have gathered enough strength to make good on what is surely to be a claim to take over all of Uroda.

That was two years ago.

Now, much of Uroda has changed. Once the base of the Kingdom of Salvar, the southern steppes lie waiting for those bold enough to take it. With ground so fertile it is said that any crop in all of Althanas could find root here and grow quickly and also being rich in precious minerals and gems, Uroda remains the realm's most precious and sought after resource in Salvar. However, even as the world has turned its attention elsewhere after the civil war and remains convinced the fighting in the country has stopped and the struggle for power has stopped, it has not. The countryside runs red with blood and Uroda has plunged into years long anarchy with nobles across the country vying for both power and ultimate dominion over the steppes. The people often find themselves trading one master for another as fiefdoms fall and rise again, exchanging hands so often that they have stopped attempting to learn who it is that rules over for them, because on the morrow it is always likely to change. Salvar's reigning barons struggle, die and commit treachery openly in order to satiate their greed and ambitions.

Along Uroda's western coast, the Vagarand have seized control of the coastal baronies and have worked with the Vogruk-Stokes Company to build a new capital city, Siev, which the oligarchy promises to be the seat of their new government. Having used these two years wisely to consolidate their power and bring the League to bear as both their arm and tool, the Vagarand has begun to move east with their hosts and begin to make good on their claim to rule the country by taking control of nobles who have not yet bent the knee and putting those who refuse to swear fealty to the sword. It will be a long time before they have managed to take complete control of Uroda and restore order and a country of Salvar under their rule in the form of a new and even more powerful government, but it seems certain that they will succeed. Baronies continue to struggle against the changing tide of power in the realm, but few have yet to unite in their struggle against the Vagarand. Not yet.

In the eastern side of the steppes, one of Salvar's oldest houses remains independent and is unwilling to bend the knee to any king, nobles or even the Vagarand. Powerful and with a wide array of houses to call its banner men, House Barnabas remains unmolested, having only defended its lands and fiefdoms from warring barons, but it has yet to make its decision on whether to call in its banners to stand against the Vagarand and its powerful hosts. If it rose against the Vagarand, surely other free Baronies would rise as well, and if united it would prove a worthy adversary against the Vagarand and their aspirations for total dominion over Uroda. Looking onward from its seat of power in the castle of Falkenfel that sits atop the Valley of Joramund which is said to have remained unconquered for centuries, House Barnabas remains silent to the coming storm and time is running out.

[Vasolt]

The personal hunting grounds of Baron Rudolf Barnabas, in all of its extravagance and beauty, was a marvel that few outsiders were ever likely to behold. It was called the Tiergarten, which loosely translated from the guttural Salvic tongue as the Garden of Beasts. It was a luxury that had been afforded to House Barnabas and its guests for generations, having been constructed more than a century earlier by the sweat and blood of peasants under the firm, provident hand of Baron Karl Barnabas and his stewards, one of Baron Rudolf's distant ancestors. The hunting grounds had taken more than three seasons to construct and had cost the barony tens of thousands of golden axes*, which must have put a great deal of strain on both the barony's treasury and the house. The Tiergarten consisted of more than four leagues of the most choice forest and woodlands surrounding the castle of Falkenfel that had eventually been walled off by stonemasons who had constructed great stone walls of granite and cement that were more than ten feet high and four feet thick around the perimeter of the grounds. The tops of the walls had also been adorned with two foot iron and ornate spikes. As a testament of the lavishness and splendor of the grounds, it is even said that the very stone that had been used to make the walls had been imported from the farthest reaches of the realm and carried to the barony in oxen cart.

Meanwhile, scores of gardeners and groundskeepers had been loosed into the grounds to begin changing the very landscape from the droll, flat forest floor of thick forests of stark evergreens and into the lush, extravagant gardens that they would become. No expense had been spared by the baron, who had intended for these hunting grounds to be a wedding gift to his son Hans and soon-to-be wife at the time, Emila Wagnar whose marriage was meant to signal the end of a running feud between the two great houses. Entire forests had been cut or thinned in a manner that suited that of luxury as the entire landscape was painstakingly molded to the desires of the baron. Hills, ridges, miniature valleys and other topography had been constructed in a manner that had been unheard of outside of all of the realm of privilege save royalty. Even a space for a lake had been dug and filled with water which was eventually fed by a river that ran the course of the grounds. Fish had later been added to the lake, such as pike and catfish. The grounds were seeded and eventually became rife with exotic flora that had been brought from all over the world, such as orchids and wild roses that had never found root in Salvar ever before. However, in all of its glory, the Tiergarten would be nothing without wild game. So Baron Karl had famously set out hordes of his own men-at-arms to scour the nearby forests and capture elk, deer and vermin alive in order to populate the grounds. It was even said that on occasion he and other later barons would loose bears, wolves, mountain lions and other predators upon the grounds to satiate their appetite for a truly dangerous and admirable hunt.

When all of the arduous, backbreaking labor had been finished and the peasants had finally returned to their homes, the Tiergarten lie ready and was eventually presented to Hans and Emila the day of their wedding day in honor of the joining of their two great houses. However, as much as Baron Karl must have considered his son's fondness for hunting before embarking on such an opulent and expensive gesture, he had had an ulterior motive and one that still served House Barnabas to this day. Because while pleasing his son and his new fair wife was surely in his mind, the Tiergarten had been more than a gift from the Baron of House Barnabas. It had served as a demonstration of the power, wealth and prestige that House Barnabas held as a family of high nobility. Just what they were capable of and a presentation for the entire realm. It is even said that upon witnessing the presentation of Baron Karl's great gift at the fabled gates of Tiergarten, Baron Roland Wagnar had unsheathed his sword in a lavish gesture and threw it down in front of the other baron's feet, an act that followed with the brokering of peace between the two houses. The uneasy peace between the Baranabas' and the Wagnars was said to have been wrought from a marriage, but in truth it was sealed by a single gesture.

At the height of its power and prestige, House Barnabas had once rivaled even the crown and was a force to truly be reckoned with. However as time passed, ground was lost and gained and borders shifted as power changed hands. Old friends became bitter enemies while new ones eventually were forced to bend the knee. Through the last century Barnabas had lost power and eventually regained it through the years, but the house itself never managed to lose the splendor and respect it commanded in the eastern steppes which lent to the house's great strength and why so many houses looked to them as their lords. House Barnabas had a voice in the east, and the gestures they made and what had been said was heeded carefully. Few houses in Uroda were able to boast having such a presence in the realm, but there were a few. And even House Rathaxea had been forced, time and again, to recognize their place in the realm.

But now, things have certainly changed, Jurian Vasolt thought as he stood before the gates of the Tiergarten with Baron Rudolf and his hunting party. The heavy iron gates had been gilded with silver and decorated in metal filigree with shapes of great beasts that continued to hunt and prowl amongst the iron flowers and trees which had all been recreated in agonizing detail. It had once been polished and lovingly cared for by the groundskeepers, but even iron must rust and silver corrodes. As it is with all things, the knight reflected wistfully, nothing lasts forever.

Jurian Vasolt was a noble that had lived a long life carved out in battle and service, but after the passing of his father, Jurian had been anointed a knight and made castellan of Falkenfel at the baron's bidding. He remained remarkably fit for a man who approached middle-age. His hair and beard were well-kept, oiled and rust-coloured and he had chilling blue eyes that were shadowed by the contours of his face often giving him a rather stern and grim look. He wore a leather tunic and black wool that stood in contrast with his cloak that was a staunch and dark purple. However weathered he appeared, he was a soldier, both bold and frank in action and deed, and bore the moral weight of one who did a lot of killing for his lord. But, after five years as castellan, he was beginning to worry that others were growing complacent and in such dire times. Though if the fall of the crown, the kingdom and the anarchy that followed were any indication, Jurian was given just cause to such worry. Still, he tried to put it from his mind and focus on the present. There would be time for such matters later.

Jurian counted five in their party, including his son, Gregor, who served as a squire for Sir Gelfrid Barnabas, who was a nephew of the baron's. Gregor was short for his age and thin, having much need of more food and exercise in the yard at his father's urging. He bore soft brown hair and a strong chin, but his head was still much too big for his body and his father had still begrudgingly yearned for the day he would grow into it. Gregor was dutiful and quiet, but bright. Jurian knew this wasn't the life his youngest son had in mind, but as a father he swore he would make a man out of him. Varsolts were warriors born, and yielded to no man, and Gregor was meant to learn that as the rest of his brothers had. One way or the other.

The party busied themselves by outfitting themselves with bows, quivers and made last minute checks to their equipment. The baron was in the mood for elk today, however, there were still wolves and even bears that prowled the grounds and Jurian would rather cut his own throat then have his old lord savaged by some great beast who caught them unprepared. Besides himself, he saw Taryn Romil, steward of Falkenfel, fiddling with his sword belt that was a size too small for him. He was a stout man and five years Jurian's senior, outweighing him by at least four stone. His hair was oiled and graying from a stark black to a steely grey, and though he bore no beard he had lamb chops that were carefully trimmed. Taryn bore a hooked nose and soft eyes, but his powdered and privileged appearance often betrayed his sharp mind and words that often cut deeply. He wore a doublet in the colors of the family he served, a Barnabas chilling blue. For all his great girth, Taryn had skinny legs that often gave him the appearance of a fat, old bird who was stern in his advice which probably lent to his nickname as The Owl.

Berold Fagan, eldest son of the baron of House Fagan, also accompanied them. He was six-and-twenty and bore the likeness of a true soldier. He was tall, strapping and a proven swordsman. He was shaven and his auburn hair neatly clipped, but however much care he took in his appearance, Berold was not soft by any means. Berold was dressed in leathers and stood with a hand upon the pommel of his sword, talking to Baron Rudolf with a somber look on his face. Rightfully so, the knight thought after hearing the news on Berold's arrival to discuss terms. The Fagans were having their holdings raided by a rival house, the Bachs, who they continually engaged in a bitter border dispute that had not been fully resolved for decades. It was becoming a common occurrence since the collapse of Salvar's kingdom, and Baron Rudolf had spent a great deal of time in the last year making examples out of men who threatened the lands of his banner men. But, as much as the young lord yearned for action, his baron instead had invited Berold on their hunt as a distraction from the grim reality that they must face. But, Jurian was certain that eventually he would soon be dispatched to deal with the dispute and he already had in mind of what he might want to do.

Finally, Baron Rudolf Barnabas was the man who held their attention. Ruler of Falkenfel and House Barnabas' claims, the baron was a great giant of a man who stood taller and had more girth then most of any man Jurian knew. The baron was three-and-fifty and until the end of the civil war, he hadn't shown much of his age. Now, however, there was a wear upon him. His once laughing green eyes had dulled and his great mane, black as a raven's wing, had long become grey from the perils of ruling a barony. His wizened beard stretched from his nose to his stomach and was beginning to turn white, much to his lady wife's frantic dismay. He spoke in a great booming voice and even when he whispered you could hear him from across the room. He was a noble born and had a presence that commanded respect when he was stern, but to his friends he was amiable with great laughter and he was known to have an affinity for japes.

Oh how has he changed indeed, Jurian observed.

"Yes, all right, Berold. We'll discuss it later, perhaps on the morrow." The baron laughed and said in thick Salvic as he patted the young noble on the back and smiled, "You're in my hands now, and your father as well. It'll be dealt with, fear not. Perhaps an elk's blood and horn is just the thing you need."

"Yes, m'lord." Berold replied amiably, though Jurian could see the look of distress in his eyes. You'd best learn to conceal that, Berold, he would have said, or else your eyes will always betray your intentions and that'll never do for a man who is to become a baron.

"Shall we begin, m'lord?" Taryn asked the Baron matter-of-factly, though it was obvious the steward had never hunted a day in his life and was more interested in getting this business over with and returning to his work.

Baron Rudolf gave him a wry long and a smile, "As it pleases you, my steward. My, if we had you in my place things everything would be done in short order."

"Oh yes, indeed, m'lord." Taryn replied as he struggled with fitting the strap of his quiver over great belly, but finally gave up and tied it over his waist.

"I am gladdened to hear it, but for now, let us pretend I am Baron for awhile, yes?" The baron said with a hearty slap on the steward's back that nearly bowled him over. "Retainers, the gates."

Four boys about Gregor's age dressed in Barnabas colors moved to the thick iron gates and pulled them open. No sooner then they had then the party move out of the world of their troubles and into the glade. But, much to the baron's chagrin, it wouldn't be far more challenging for them to leave the distressing issues of the realm away.

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*Gold pieces stamped with the Kingdom of Salvar's ruling house's coat of arms, House Rathaxea, which are two crossed longaxes. Served as Salvar's official currency for hundreds of years and even after the fall of the kingdom following the civil war.