A week and half passes between the Trial of Davos and the Feast of the Harvest Moon. You all have been asked to stay as you all be honored guests for your deeds in the west. In that time you all become acclimated to the events that occurred Karric’s (formerly Kastor’s) Manor, as well as the other events that transpired. The down time has done the whole party some good.
(:: Yes, guys im taking over the reigns and making a choice for your PC’s, but it not too unreasonable, and you can certainly be doing things during that week ::)
The day if the Festival/Coronation, the city buzzes with excitement as the Feast of the Harvest Moon is prepared for as well as the coronation of a new king. Helgabal, inside the walls is somewhat sheltered from the blowing wind and snow that has fallen in staggering amounts for this time of year. The weather seems to be the only thing dampening the general disposition of the populace. Rumors of a Wolf Winter grow by the day; a winter that starts early and lasts well beyond when it should. An ill omen by all accounts.
As the festivities begin, with minor song and dance inside Frostmatle Keep and out in the streets, the party given a position of honor, they are invited to sit with some of the nobility. Chief among them is Sir Halumoor, who greats each of you with hearty hello. Seated with him is the legendary bard, Riordan Parnell. Missing is his bodyguard Reaver, to which is somewhat of a relief to Silanna. Having, declined his advances on numerous occasions. Seated at the farthest end of the chamber is a dour looking King Reagent Ree, flanked by his personal guard. Presentations last through the later part of the day, with honorings to all of the deities represented in the kingdom and prayers for the harvest to be bountiful. Following that is a ceremony that offers thanks to heroes throughout the land. The Order of the Silver Chalice is honored for their service and to the crown and the land. The group is honored for their deeds in the west. Several other individuals are also honored for their services as scouts, defenders, and other services provided to Damara. Lastly those that have fallen in the service to the Kingdom are given a solemn memoriam delivered by the Arch-Bishop if the church of Illmater. Arch-Bishop Wilan Chamas of Illmater finishes prayers to the fallen and asks everyone to rise.
The whole of the interior chamber erupts in motion as a wave of body simultaneous stands. All but one is on their feet. King Reagent Ree remains seated and scowling. Arch-Bishop Wilan Chamas proclaims, “It is with great honor that I am allowed call forth out new King.”, his voice enhanced with thaumaturgy to carry through the chamber and out into the outer castle walls. “King Erical Frostmantle!”, Horns sound in the distance and the clatter of steel and boots on cobblestone echo through the streets as a procession from somewhere inside the city begins to make its way towards the Keep.
Within minutes a column of soldiers in shining armor and helms adorned with plumes of blue march in sync towards the open outer section of the keep. A the head of the column is a beautiful mare adorned in gleaming barding plumed in blue; Atop which sits a man in clean, but well used black armor adorned with dragon motifs. With one hand, he guides his mare, the other holds a massive halberd perfectly perpendicular to the ground as he rides. The column stops just outside of the keep, with the sound of clanging steel, as the rider progresses directly in, and on in to the chamber with all of the seated nobility. He rides directly to the center of the chamber and dismounts. With heavy boot falls, the man covers the remaining distance to the still seated King Reagent Ree.
“You will rise before your King.”, The statement echoing through the chamber. Rea looks up at the man with disgust. “I will…”, and the man before him cuts him off, “You will rise before your King, or you will fall at his feet.” The man says again in the same even tone. Visibly angry King Reagent Ree, rises to his feet and the armored man spins on his heel to face all of those in attendance leaving Ree to his back. He looks to the Arch-Bishop and stated, “You may begin.” and bends to one knee removing his helmet. The man you know as Reaver now kneels before the Arch-Bishop as he begins his blessings of coronation. Following the Bishop, the Magistrate lists the proclamations of the crown and he receives the oaths of kingship. The ceremony proceeds for another fifteen or so minutes and finally Reaver, is proclaimed King Erical Frostmantle, to a resounding huzzah and cheers from the keep and out into the street.
He steps forward, and asks the bishop to assist him so that all can hear.
“By Blood, or By Deed!”
“The kings of old lived by that moniker. In their time they overcame obstacles that were beyond measure and Damara prospered. Damara prospered for nearly a century and a half, through all adversities. However, such has not been the case for the past thirty years. Paranoia, distrust, and corruption has lead to the decline of our once great nation. That ends today.”
“The consolidation of all of power to one man has lead to poverty, greed, and contempt. We are weaker today for these policies and as a result I vow to change them. In the coming months the baronies of old will be resurrected. Their exact leadership will determined by deed or by blood. The future barons and baronesses sit amongst you. Damara is not one man. It is a nation. It is you, me, and the poeple you see around you.”
“Currently, we are sick. Sick with corruption that runs right up to the throne and crown that I accept today. Again, that ends today. The existing spy networks that have been put in place to feed the paranoia and consolidation of power are hereby dismisses save for the Spy Song Network that has existed since the days of the great King Gareth Dragonsbane. The city guard will hereby disbanded, and temporarily replaced with the retinue of soldiers standing outside this very keep now. Those belonging to the city watch will be reviewed and we will sort the wheat from the chaff. There will be order and justice without the need for those asking for it to pay for it.”
“Many of you who live here in the safety of Helgabal may not know this, but we are at war. Have no doubt, war is upon us. Giants and their kin pose a serious threat to the overall safety of Damara and it must be dealt with decisively. Be it through strength of arms of negotiation. This nation can no longer afford to drag its feet as it has since this threat has arisen.”
“Many of you may say, who am I am to proclaim these things? I was fifteen when my mother spirited me away from my father. I was taken to Cormyr and groomed by some of the wisest nobility in all of the Realms. I was not given a pampered life. I was squire to wise nobles. Served as a Purple Dragon of Cormyr. Lead hundreds of men in the War of Everlasting Darkness and was present at the Fall of Lolths Avatar, heralding the end of that conflict. Even through the journey from the South to our great kingdom I battled alongside the great warriors of this land s at the Ford of Goliad, protecting it from a Frost Giants incursion bend on destroying that valuable link to the west. Through any threat to this nation I will not sit idle while the blood of my people stains the snow. I have this crown by blood, but I will retain it and earn it by deed.”
He lifts his halberd skyward and proclaims, “HAIL!”, and it seems as it the whole of the city responds in turn, “HAIL!”