The halls of Ravenscourt had not experienced such rambunctious laughter and frivolity for many winters. The sound of cheering and drunken singing had been long forgotten in the main hall until this night while the snows outside had started flurrying down more frequently.
Celebrations had been ongoing for some time before the official victory festivities began in the main hall, and Loldirr had taken to sitting at the head table with urgency.
Her body ached intensely despite her encounter with the Death Wraith Sir Gervais Vanderbilt being two moons ago. It had been some time since she had experienced unfiltered joy, something that she had not fully embraced since Gryffinfall, and if there was one thing the Fæordic brought with them, it was the ability to enjoy festivities.
Their singing was awful and completely out of tune, but their euphoria was not, and it seemed that even the servants of Ravenscourt welcomed it gladly.
As she gulped down a mussel, she tossed the shell aside and chuckled as the smooth tasting seafood slid down her throat. Never before had Loldirr had such a bizarre delicacy before, and it took detailed instructions from Knight Inquisitor Ithelred on how to crack open her first one. After the first was eaten, she couldn't stop herself from craving more.
Even Erdudvyl appeared to be enjoying the entertainment provided by the drunken Fæordic warlords. They sang songs of Hjagin, their god of wine and women, or women and wine depending on their preference.
Loldirr watched as Erdudvyl took a delicate mouthful of venison and chewed it with an almost minimal amount of mouth movement. In between admiring the elf's continuous grace, Loldirr released that she no longer had a taste for venison. For her, it would always bring up memories of her childhood friend, Willis, and their hunting trips.
She felt a completely different person now than the one that ran for her life from Greenhaven, and only now could she examine how far she had come. Loldirr was no longer that frustrated and irritated huntress who craved adventure; instead, she had the entire weight of the world on her shoulders.
Today, though, was the first time she wasn't on the run or having to be reactive; today, she could collect her thoughts and become proactive for the good of herself and her people.
"Lord Ethelston Darke, Grand Duke of Ravenscourt and protector of the western provinces." called the Master of Ceremonies as the enormous wooden doors flew open to the interest of everyone in the hall.
The room fell silent as a clank of a wooden stick could be heard in rhythm with Ethelston's steps. As he stepped slowly between the tables, all eyes were on him, perplexed by how one of the most fearsome fighters known to man was gingerly stepping forward with a crutch in his arm. Every move forward seemed to hurt him significantly, and his face depicted anguish with every foot forward, but it did not deter him from continuing.
The sound of frivolity was now solely replaced with the clank, clank, clank of his crutch and his laboured breathing.
Taking steps to his grand chair between Loldirr and Erdudvyl, he looked up to all who sat in his hall. Almost instantly, his anguish disappeared, and a smile bloomed onto his face. "I didn't say you could stop enjoying yourselves! Drink, damn you."
An almighty cheer raised itself high into the room while Ethelston cautiously placed himself into his chair. As he leant back, the release in tension from his muscles was evident for all to see. He had been through hell and barely made it out alive.
It didn't seem to dampen his ability to act all chivalrous as he took the back of Erdudvyl's hand and carefully placed his lips on it. Loldirr smiled as the face of the elf blushed like beetroot. When they first met, Erdudvyl couldn't have come across as any more stern and authoritarian, yet now she had experienced life among the humans and fallen in love. She now appeared to feel far more at ease than ever before.
There was no doubt that she missed her home and her people, but that had not stopped her from taking on this adventure. Even now, as the Fæordic warlord's sounded like a mob of injured cats, she laughed, she smiled, and she relaxed despite the look of distress on her face with every sung note.
Loldirr glanced around the room at her new allies. The Fæordic with Hrok Thjodoflsson and Sigurd Halfhand were a fearsome bunch, unrefined but resourceful. Even in her short time with them, Loldirr had learnt so much about them and their culture. They didn't fear death, they welcomed it, or that was what they wanted everyone around them to believe. Their belief that death in battle would be welcomed by their gods only seemed to spur them to more bizarre and crazy adventures. Yet, as a united faction, their sheer determination and fearlessness made a far superior force shrivel in fear.
The loss of some of Aryya's mercenaries did not appear to dampen their spirits. With a healthy rivalry being displayed between them and the Fæordic, it seemed that their usefulness, as long as the money flowed, would increase in time.
Aryya, herself, had been frustrated to not partake in the Battle of Ravenscourt. When Loldirr first met her, she felt it difficult not to be intimidated by the huge dark-skinned bulky figure of the Amazonian. Her loyalty to Ethelston was peculiar for a mercenary, and it appeared that only he would be able to command her services. Perhaps in time, Loldirr would warm to her and vice versa. For now, though, she could rely on Ethelston to keep her in check, and with Aryya's loyalty, her mercenaries would follow.
The Ravenscourt city guard has suffered tremendous losses, including Arminell, their Captain. Ethelston had been unsure how to proceed with them. Their morale was shattered, despite the victory. Ethelston had felt it best to allow them to release some tension instead of cracking the whip and implore discipline.
Perhaps once celebrations would come to an end, the order could be restored among their ranks and their numbers replenished.
Knight Inquisitor Ithelred had been a welcome breath of fresh air. His no-nonsense, straight to the point demeanour had been what Loldirr needed. His advice had already been invaluable, and his experience and knowledge of her family meant that Loldirr was eager to spend time with him when she could.
Edric had taught her so much before his death, but there was so much about ruling that she did not know. If she had only listened to her late guardian, perhaps she would have felt better prepared. Despite their sometimes heated debates, Loldirr would become a much better ruler with Ithelred's guidance.
Then there was Erdudvyl and Ethelston, her closest companions. Without them, she would not be alive today. Ethelston had become like a brother to her, while Erdudvyl would always remain her mentor, especially in the realms of sorcery. With the love of Erdudvyl and Ethelston continuously growing, the three of them had formed a unique bond, essential for the challenges ahead.
Watching them laugh and smile together, Loldirr realised she loved them both like family more than she ever felt possible. Her heart had experienced tremendous loss, yet through them, it had given her some hope of restoration.
"You looked exhausted, Loldirr?" Ethelston asked, pulling Loldirr's attention towards him.
"As do you, my lord," she replied
Ethelston chuckled, the bags under his eyes displaying the lack of sleep his injuries had caused him.
Ethelston spotted her puzzled demeanour, "Are you ok? You appear troubled."
Loldirr shook her head, "On the contrary, I feel more focused than ever before. Did you send the word today?"
Ethelston nodded before picking up a strip of venison and taking a bite. "Ravens were sent this morning. Soon, all the Isovine Empire will know that you have returned and that war has officially been declared with Lionmane."
"And what of the war with Ruvia?" Loldirr asked.
"Ravenscourt forces will receive the word soon to withdraw from the Emperor's war. If we can regain our forces from the front, that will certainly make the Emperor pause before his next move." Ethelston explained.
"It's not enough, though, is it?"
Ethelston shook his head, "No, it's not enough. If the war with Ruvia entered a ceasefire, his forces would outnumber us greatly, should no one else choose to join our cause. We won the Battle of Ravenscourt because they had not expected you and the Fæordic. They won't make that mistake again."
Ethelston took another strip of venison before turning his gaze back to Loldirr. "However, in a few moons, they will all know the rightful Empress has returned. It may cause some loyalties to be questioned."
"Whatever you plan to do, it must be done quickly." another voice from beside Loldirr spoke. Knight Inquisitor's joyless gaze had focused on them as they talked of the future. "We have started a civil war which needs to be quelled quickly; otherwise, other empires will sense our weakness. A ceasefire with Ruvia is extremely unlikely to happen, but it still puts our armies in a precarious situation. We will need to move quickly to solidify our position before the emperor does."
Loldirr nodded as she looked down towards her mussels shells.
"Today, though, you need to focus on the now," Ethelston commented.
"What do you mean?" Loldirr asked.
"Address your people," Ithelred confirmed.
A nervousness flushed its way through Loldirr like a torrential downpour. "I can't do that; I am not one for speeches and inspiring people," she responded.
Ithelred's stern face did not even twitch as he bluntly commented, "You're an Aex-Igh, of course you are."
Ethelston tact was a lot more appropriate as he placed his hand on top of hers, encouraging the nervous embarrassment to vacate the Elemental Sorceress. "Look around, Loldirr. Everyone in this room has been brought together because of you. Everyone in this room fought for Ravenscourt and fought for you. I did not travel to Gryffinfall and endured hell on that sea because I thought it would be fun; I did it for you just as Erdudvyl left her home and her people to fight by your side. The blood that flows through your veins is of the highest nobility; the power that you command is otherworldly. Speak, and the words will flow."
Loldirr took a massive breath of air before she gingerly and painfully stood to her feet. The higher she stood, the quieter the room became until all eyes were focused on the tired-looking red-haired woman whose very stance demanded respect and authority.
Despite the fatigue that was urging her to sit, she knew this duty was just as essential as all the tasks she had done before.
"I have been advised to address you all on passing and future events; however, I feel that it is more to do with the fact that my peers can no longer stomach the sound that is called singing within these halls."
Rapturous laughter echoed throughout the hall, allowing Loldirr to ease into her role as a spokeswoman.
"Only days ago, we all fought valiantly to secure this great city, and now we must look ahead towards the future. For many moons, the snows will now fall, so it is in this time of reflection and preparation that we must make the most of our opportunities." Loldirr scanned the room, knowing that all eyes were on her. As she watched each face, she saw something that surprised her. Eagerness to hear.
"With stability within the walls of Ravenscourt, it is important to repair what was damaged. The megalomaniac Millendahl has been removed, and Ethelston returns to his rightful place to restore order, prosperity, and a future to its people. The walls will be repaired, and no one will dare to attack these walls again. For anyone who tries, we will revisit them with devastation that pales in comparison to two moons ago."
The voices of contentment started to murmur throughout the halls.
"Trade must be re-established between this great city and the Fæordic tribes so that through each other, both grow stronger."
A loud burst of agreement blurted out from the Fæordic warlord's as Ethelston and Ithelred nodded in appreciation to the words.
"You all call me Empress, yet I have no throne. You call me Sorceress, yet my power is only as useful as the people who stand beside me. You call me Wraithslayer, yet it was the man to my side that gave me the skills and knowledge to receive that title. For me to succeed in my goals, I must ensure that I am protected, both physically and mentally, by the people around me."
The murmurs grew louder as Loldirr's words of wisdom rang true.
"Count Ithelred advised me on the Knight Inquisitors and their purpose to the realm. They are not just knights; they are the Aex-Igh's carefully selected elite, whose renown would be equal to that as the kings that were once in the Isovine Empire. Their role is to advise and protect the empire. My father gave Knight Inquisitor Ithelred the honour of the title, Edric Darke also received the same privilege. They served and continue to serve the realm beyond all other roles and, in life and death, deserve the honour the title demands."
Loldirr turned towards Ethelston, "Today, I wish to bestow you the same honour. Lord Ethelston Darke, kneel."
Ethelston used all his strength to push himself off his chair. His body felt more than twice his age, but his determination to do Loldirr's bidding was more than enough to endure the pain.
With Ethelston placing one knee to the floor, Loldirr took her bastard sword from her side and placed the flat edge on his shoulder.
"Do you, Lord Ethelston Darke, Duke of Ravenscourt, swear to protect the realm by any and all means necessary until death?" Loldirr asked.
With the room watching in awe, Ethelston nodded and responded, "I do."
"Do you promise to perform your duty with honour and dignity in all things and serve the rightful head of the realm, to act as their right hand in all matters of state?"
"I do," Ethelston replied.
"Then I hereby declare, through the power vested in me, that you shall rise as Knight Inquisitor Ethleston Darke."
As Ethelston struggled to his feet, the whole hall burst into applause. Knight Inquisitor Ithelred was first by his side, helping him to his feet before embracing him like a son. "Your father would be proud."
As Ethelston struggled to hold back the tears of joy, Loldirr embraced him next, holding him tight as a tear slipped from his eye. Eventually returning to his seat, Erdudvyl, whose smile shone like the stars, kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek.
The room shook in celebration but was eventually settled down by the outstretched arms of Loldirr Aex-Igh.
"Finally, words of our future," she started. "Word has been spread throughout the Isovine Empire and beyond, informing them that I, Loldirr of house Aex-Igh, the Elemental Sorceress, the Wraithslayer, am hereby alive and well and plan to retake the throne that officially belongs to me. I have, with Ravenscourt's backing, officially declared a state of war against the usurper Arnaud III. I plan that by this time, next winter, I shall be sat on the throne of Lionmane."
The roar within the room was far greater than before, with all in it standing to their feet with their tankards held high.
As the celebrations continued and the support for her words grew exponentially, Loldirr returned to her seat to bask in their festivities, but she knew that Lionmane was a small fish to fry. With the Necromancer on the move, Ravenscourt, followed by Lionmane, would be straightforward compared to what was to come.