THE KING'S MARESCHALS
Introduction
The Sheldomar Valley after the conclusion of the Greyhawk Wars was in a state of dire emergency. From the border with Ket, now deep into what was Bissel, to the Azure Sea, from the Lortmils in the east to the Crystalmists in the west, true Evil was abroad. The Drow, the giants, the Iuz Hordes, and not forgetting the agents of the Scarlet Sign - at every turn they thwarted the return to normality sought after the long battles.
The armies of the good folk, who had suffered much and held out for so long, could not be expected to continue the hunt for the remaining fiends for long. It was Harvest time, and without the militias being disbanded to return to the fields there would be no crop this year, and many would starve to death in the Sheldomar's winter.
The situation was bad - in some areas the Hordes were entrenched, having enslaved the populace to gather the food, and likely to remain there well into the next year. But these monsters the Armies would best deal with. What of the spies and scouts, the escaped prisoners, the turncoats and traitors - armies could not be diverted to chase after single men, or small groups. Yet they could do much damage, and required to be stopped at all costs.
The King's Mareschals
The people needed security, a force that they could trust - the local militiamen were fine for minor squabbles, but all over there were isolated but frequent occurrences of powerful fiends which wiped out villages and towns on their way back to their homelands. The people needed a greater force, closer at hand than the Sheldomar army.
And so, at the King's behest, the Royal Spymaster, Thoggin Oakley, sought out men of calibre to police the reclaimed areas of the Sheldomar states. The armies would push back the hordes, and deal with the major forces - but once they had 'cleared' an area as best they could, it was the duty of that area's Mareschals to ensure the peace continued.
The countries agreeing to this new internal force were: Keoland, Geoff, Sterich, the Gran March, Bissel (in exile) and the Ulek states. The Mareschals were given King's Warrants to arrest (or kill) any they suspected of being traitors, spies, escaped prisoners and Hordelings, and return them to the Rychskurt (in Niole Dra) for trial and execution. New laws were passed by the Lendskurt, creating punishments for those assaulting or obstructing the Mareschals, and requiring each noble to provide secure accommodation and gaol space for them at 40 mile intervals along major roads.
Each Mareschal was given an area within, but reasonably far from, the current border of these states. However, the nature of their task often required travel beyond their areas, even beyond the borders themselves.
Many of the Mareschals were experienced army officers from the War, others adventurers or duellists who embraced the challenge. Those chosen to be honoured in this way were typically powerful individuals, although not of the landed gentry. They were given a salary commensurate with their experience and responsibilities, a generous salary which more than provided for their needs, whilst also allowing them to hire the necessary henchmen.
Further Powers
At first the requirement to provide suitable accommodation was a burden for the nobles, most of whose coffers were now empty from the battles. Accommodation was makeshift, much falling below the required standard, but as time went on, small purpose-built fortified inns (known as 'Bierkeepe' - beer keeps) were created, and were also frequented by many other travellers, particularly merchants and tax collectors.
And soon the Mareschals were given new responsibilities - for bringing to justice all bandits and highwaymen, deserters, smugglers and wanted fugitives across the lands. All major navigable rivers were given their own River Mareschals to patrol and control the passage of people and goods within the Valley. At borders, Mareschals were stationed to ensure national security, and to aid Excisemen in the collection of duties.
To meet these responsibilities they were given added powers. They were accorded the right to take command of any body of men, or boat, or vessel, or beast within these lands, except for soldiery commanded by a Major or above. Even then, in cases of dire emergency, woe betide a commander of any level denying a Mareschal this right without reason.
Mareschals were made directly accountable to the Lord Sheriff presiding over their area (who would not live there, but in Niole Dra for the Rychskurt), through the High Mareschal, a position awarded to Thoggin in order to give him a legitimate post in the Keoish hierarchy. In all ways they were the Sheriff's agent and could invoke all their powers of trial in their area for the new minor crimes.
Conclusion
With the coming of the Mareschals, the Sheldomar is undoubtedly becoming a more lawful place - the banditry that the War's end afforded is becoming less commonplace. However, they have by extension of their powers and responsibilities developed into judge, jury and, often too, executioner for many undesirables. Considering that some were undisciplined borderline criminals themselves before, it is surely only a matter of time before this leads to severe abuse of their powers and privileges by some individual(s).
But it cannot be doubted that the Sheldomar is a better place for their existence, which even the peasants know. They are popular and revered, more so than the militia and constables, and even the judges, that preceded them.
Mareschals of Renown
Wissig Arturrsen - F10/MU5 - Niole Dra to Axewood area - tracks down Horde leaders to north
Ollf Veshper - 1/2 E Ranger9 - Gradsul to Dreadwood area - specialises in Sea Princes/SB spies
Darrak Thurnsyte - Dw. F12 - Tracker in Lortmil Mountains. First Mareschal to be killed in the line of duty.
Lord Javitt Toruk - E F8/MU8 - Mareschal for Duchy of Ulek - cold, aloof and sadistic.
Edalsvell Bierkeepe
Introduction
The village of Edalsvell, half way between Niole Dra and the provincial capital and army camp of Axewood (itself no more than a village before the war), became one of the first places to establish a proper 'Bierkeepe' for its Mareschal, the legendary Wissig Arturrsen, and other passing trade. Considering its position, the expense spent on creating the fortified inn was a wise investment.
The unusual fact was that the Edalsvell Bierkeepe was not built by the local Noble, the Count Fimuth of Axewood, on whose territory it lay on the boundary. At the end of the Wars a passing group of adventurers, headed to Axewood in a hurry, killed a troll on the road and, with the help of the villagers, discovered its lair. Between haste and a lack of desire on the part of the wealthy adventurers to spend days scraping through the filth of the troll's cave, they left the booty therein to the villagers, who soon became 5,000gp richer. Some drank themselves poor, but a small group banded their fortunes with that of the innkeeper, Halykk Stoutarm, and they built the Bierkeepe as their going concern.
A small fort, there cannot be much safer accommodations available for hire to the traveller in the Sheldomar. With portcullis and stout reinforced front gates, and internally reinforced doors and strong locks in most areas, Edalsvell Bierkeepe can hold secure to allow the most dangerous of prisoners captive, or hold out for reinforcements in the event of attack. To the physical attributes, Wissig has procured a few magical surprises, some unknown to even Halykk, the Steward, with which to defend this place.
Tales of the King's Mareschals
The Capture of Merinid Aleval
It was not long in the testing however, for the mortar had hardly set when, in Readying of CY 585 Wissig brought his first prisoner of note to Edalsvell Bierkeepe.
Once a Chendre in the Hordes' Drow contingent, Merinid Aleval was an ambitious male Drow who, despite his lofty position (for a male) had grown to despise the Matriarchal nature of Drow society. Even before their defeat at Galden Field, Merinid had left the Drow army, taking a handful of his chosen troops, mostly male, and, together with some human troops from the forces of Iuz, left on a spree of plunder and pillage throughout Sheldomar.
Soon, however, out of touch with the progressing situation, Merinid found himself cut off from his kind and hunted by the King's armies. Despite several ambushes, some of which he came out the victor, Merinid succeeded in staying out of the grasp of the King's men until Wissig Arturrsen was sent to bring him back. His group of bandits, known as the Black Scourge, was, unknown to the King, in contact with agents of the Scarlet Sign, and were employed by them for the purposes of creating mayhem and anarchy. Raids, highway robbery, assassinations were all carried out by the Black Scourge at their Scarlet masters' bidding, in return for safehouses and information to keep them alive, and wealth for their reward.
Merinid's downfall was as simple as it was inevitable. They were camped in the hills to the northeast of Cryllor when Wissig, who had been tracking them for 2 weeks, stumbled upon them. He had lost the trail and was heading for Cryllor when he accidentally found their camp, with the guard fast asleep. Walking unchallenged into the camp, he quietly let loose their mounts before walking into Merinid's tent, knocking him senseless as he slept, and carrying him back to his waiting horse. By the time his band had awakened and recovered their mounts, Wissig and his captive were safely within the confines of Axewood Palace.
After a day spent recovering, Wissig then took his charge, straddled across a donkey's back, onward to justice at Niole Dra, stopping halfway at his base in Edalsvell.
Safe as houses, or so he thought, Wissig quickly fell asleep within his quarters in the Gaol of Edalsvell Bierkeepe, with Merinid safely manacled and gagged in the oubliette below. He had not, however, taken into account the cunning of Merinid's lieutenant and lover, the human Arlyash Bruntt. A one-time agent for the King's pre-wars intelligence efforts, Bruntt had gained accommodation at Edalsvell that day before Wissig's arrival, and, with another set to open the front gates, was hidden within the Gaol awaiting Wissig's slumber.
As she crept into Wissig's room to despatch the snoring Mareschal, the Steward Halykk wandered into the courtyard to discover one of his guests opening the lockfast gates to admit several waiting Drow. Raising the alarm, he not only saved Wissig from certain assassination, but, rushing over, managed to kill the traitor and stop the Black Scourge from entering.
Jumping to his feet, Wissig fought Bruntt out into the courtyard where, overcome by his superior skill, she fell dead from her accumulated wounds. The Black Scourge was swiftly pursued by those at hand, and those who escaped that night either fell pray to other Mareschals over the following months or disappeared into obscurity.
Merinid Aleval, however, never saw trial - two days before, within his cell in the Rychskurt Gaol, he was found dead. Although his assassination was put down to the Drow, due to the obvious use of poison, the Scarlet Brotherhood can not be ruled out since rumour would have it that he was negotiating a deal with the King's Spymaster.
First Blood
All good things...
The initial successes of the Mareschals were undoubtedly a combination of good recruitment, rich pickings and the will of Lady Istus. Within weeks of being chosen and outfitted, scores of bandits, Hordelings and deserters had been brought to (mostly summary) justice by the King's men (and women, and demi-humans). Soon the armies had drawn the new borders to the Sheldomar's states.
The Lortmils to the east, Crystalmists to the west (save the Darklings' line across Sterich, which still held strong), the seas to the south and, across the centre of Bissell, the northern front, where regular clashes with the Ketites took place. These four 'walls' held the renegades within easy reach of the Mareschals, who, although frequently outnumbered, had never been outclassed ... until Kensterpasse, that was!
Mektar Zeyn and the Paladin Myro
Darrak Thurnsyte was a seasoned warrior of 153 years when he first joined Myro the Paladin, as he conquered the Bandit Kingdom holding of Ulaf Byyarnssun, near to the Riftcanyon. Nineteen years later, he was Master-at-Arms for Myro, when Mektar Zeyn came to his court. Myro, possessed by the tales of Mektar Zeyn, would not heed the warnings of his most trusted aides, and sent them packing, as Zeyn's evil turned their lord's mind.
Darrak, however, would not forsake Myro, and after being dismissed, travelled to Critwall, where he attempted to raise the Knights of the Holy Shielding to the cause of ending Zeyn's fatal hold on their one-time champion. Too late he discovered the elf's motives, when Myro became the next bearer of the Hand of Vecna.
For fifteen years, Darrak fought against his former liege, until finally his power was ended and, with the Knights, he sacked Myro's Castle, himself capturing the evil Z'aar Schanak, a High Priest of Tharizdun. With Myro dead and Zeyn escaped, Darrak returned to his native Lortmils, thinking often of those days, especially when tales came to him of Zeyn's demise after 38 years. They told how he was finally killed in the very mountains of Darrak's birth by the Knights who pursued him, who had also died in that final battle.
After the Battle of Galden field, Darrak Thurnsyte was approached by Thoggin Oakley to become a King's Mareschal. Doubting at first, Darrak soon yielded to Thoggin's constant lobbying and accepted the King's Warrant. Responsible for the Lortmils and the Ulek states, he soon found his marks.
The renegade ogre-mage Targ'a-hin from Turrosh Mak's hordes, a scarlet-robed assassin in the grounds of Axewood Palace itself, and the dwarven priest and traitor Mazz'k the Grey, all brought to trial in Niole Dra and executed for their crimes. If anything, it was his marked preference for returning his quarry alive for trial that separated Darrak from his peers in the early days.
Kensterpasse
A minor high mountain trail, the Kensterpasse (lit. 'Wise pass') is a relatively safe mountain route leading to the Trail of Tears in the northern Lortmils. Comparatively well inhabited in its lower reaches in the Gran March, it is safe to travel, even at night. In the late spring of CY 585, Darrak Thurnsyte had pursued the Drow bandit Chavv'k'n through this area, where he finally lost her trail.
Staying at Kensterstatte in a minor, and most remote, Bierkeepe, he was drinking in the public bar that night when a voice caught his attention from across the room. A voice he had not heard in a hundred years - Mektar Zeyn!
By the manner in which Darrak turned, hefting his mighty warhammer from his side, even those who had never net Darrak knew what was to come! The wise ducked under tables and out of doors for cover, the foolish and panic-stricken stood and gaped as Mektar Zeyn looked up from his seat into the eyes of the Mareschal - and smiled.
"Well then, Darrak Thurnsyte - now I thought you long dead, or crawled back into some dark, foul-smelling dwarven pit by now!" Mektar baited, rising to his feet.
Never one for words, Darrak swung his hammer hard and fast.
Perhaps surprised at the speed of the attack, Mektar had not finished the enchantment he was casting when he was struck by that blow, which sent him flying to the cold stone floor. Before he could arise, Darrak was upon him, raining down blows on the elf's prostrate form. Unable to gain his feet, Mektar Zeyn looked finished, as Darrak unusually showed no quarter to his foe.
Suddenly, Darrak's attention was drawn. Mektar's familiar, a quasit named Jaariblyn, became visible as he tore into the dwarf's bare neck with his demonic teeth. The Mareschal left the mage, and threw the small demonling to the floor, before squashing its tiny head with one sure blow from his hammer. As the life drained from his familiar, and the power it gave was sucked four times over from its master, Zeyn screamed a pitiful howl of intense pain. Darrak turned to finish his lesson.
Suddenly, the screaming mage raised his arms, and with his right hand rubbed the massive ornate ring on his left, muttering some brief incantation, dark and foul.
A rush of wind entered the inn, and those who remained quaked with fear when they saw what Zeyn's magic had done. Behind the Mareschal, towering ten feet tell over his squat form, stood a Djinni!
"Kill him," Zeyn bellowed, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Kill the dwarf, now!"
Darrak turned to meet the elemental's blow, and almost parried it, being struck on the arm and dropping his hammer. Streaks of light flew from Zeyn's hands as he burned the dwarf with his dark magic, and those around could only watch on in horror as Djinni and elven mage quickly tore the life from Darrak Thurnsyte's mortal body.
Darrak's corpse crumpled to a heap on the floor.
Accompanied by the fearsome giant, Mektar Zeyn turned and left the Bierkeepe, pausing only to pick up the dwarf's warhammer on the way out, wiping the blood from the corner of his smiling mouth.
To the Grave
Perhaps vengeance is not what Darrak would have wished, although it seemed close to his mind on the hour he died. Whatever, his funeral was well attended by his kinsfolk and many other Ausslender too. The Lord of Gilmorack and the King of Keoland both attended, and it was not long before word of this battle spread throughout the Sheldomar and beyond.
For the murder of a King's Mareschal, Thoggin Oakley would have Mektar Zeyn's head, and a 10,000 Merkke reward to the man who brought it to him.
Shibboleth Surprise
On the Trail
Mostly, Ollf Veshper was glad as the trail led out of the ragged Rushmoor, from the gloom and biting insects onto the good firm Oerth again. But part of him was wary, and as he pursued the band of escaped prisoners he had been trailing for days, he realised why - Shibboleth! He had caught and killed only 3 of the 11 surviving outlaws, but there was only one he was concerned with.
The ragtag crew who had fled from Dekkanisch prison, to the north of Axewood, when it was abandoned as the Hordes approached, were now turning to the southern Gran March town of Shibboleth. Although he had never been there, he had heard it was little more than a large village from a child's faerie-tale - half-timbered houses, an old market square with a fountain, narrow streets and a wooden city wall with wooden gates and turrets. But the war had brought people to Shibboleth, and in particular soldiers and refugees. The prisoners would have little trouble in disappearing within the numerous strangers wandering the crowded streets.
In fact, it is unlikely he would ever have been sent after such a petty bunch of crooks, were it not for the fact that one of the company was the mage-spy Sherrigo, a pawn of the Father of Obedience.
Sherrigo the Slight
Sherrigo wore the words 'short, fat and ugly' as though they were made for each other, and with him in mind. An outcast from his home in Silverwood, the half-elven mage often made up in luck what he lacked in good sense. His love was for gold, such that he wasted his magyks in pursuit of the easy Merkke, most often at the expense of others.
He turned to crime for the easy money, using his magical powers with felonious desire to carry out and escape from his daring robberies. When finally caught for his one-man crime-wave in the Keoish capital, he appeared before the Sheriff Jeinverg on the very day the Reaper came to claim the judge's arbitrary soul. As he drew his last judicial breath and all panicked around him, Sherrigo slipped his chains and fled the Rychskurt unseen. By the time the Sheriff was laid to eternal rest, with full State honours, the runt was far from Niole Dra and working on his next scam.
And it was with coinage that the Brotherhood recruited Sherrigo to their side. Fat Sherrigo, imperfect Sherrigo, the antithesis of all the Brotherhood stood for, and yet an effective tool in their control. With his lust for money met by his new masters, Sherrigo became more meticulous, meeting his true potential - whether it was retrieving secrets or killing his masters' enemies, Sherrigo felt he had finally found his calling. In Gradsul he lived in luxury, setting out to solve the Brotherhood's problems.
Eventually, he became the main courier for the Brotherhood's main spy in all the Sheldomar, the Count of Axewood himself, Fimuth Celanil. As the war started, the information from Fimuth again dried up and his masters, doubting his loyalty, sent Sherrigo to investigate and if need be remedy the problem. Discovering Fimuth's change of heart, Sherrigo took matters into his own hands, and a meeting within Axewood palace turned into a duel between the two. Overpowered, and with guards flooding to their master's aid, Sherrigo realised his folly and fled with his tail between his legs.
Thoggin soon heard Fimuth's version of events, flavoured to remove his involvement with the Brotherhood, and sent his men after the spy. Hunted all the way to Niole Dra he would surely have been caught, had he not been recognised within the city - arrested, tried and jailed within the day, Sherrigo was shivering in Dekkanisch while Zephyr team hunted the would-be ducal assassin, who had practically disappeared into thin air.
Dekkannisch was no problem for Sherrigo - the first attack on him left one fried, hulking corpse, and no end of support for the 'Warlock' from his fellow prisoners. Even from within he continued serving his Scarlet masters, recruiting informants and agents to work against their captors on leaving this hell-hole. They were working on an escape plan when again Istus smiled and the guards deserted the gaol as the Hordes advanced. Sherrigo used his remaining dweomers to rescue himself and his compatriots, before fleeing south.
In the melee surrounding the Battle of Galden field, Sherrigo was able to briefly return to Niole Dra and reclaim his spellbooks and belongings from his home. He would likely have escaped to the safety of his Scarlet masters had his new companions not decided to raid a merchant caravan en route to Gradsul, not realising it was a Royal gold shipment for the payment of the King's Army. Decimated and hunted north, they sought refuge in the Rushmoor, but soon found even that place too exposed to escape the King's Mareschals.
Shiboleth
Two days of searching high and low led Ollf to the conclusion they had once more escaped justice. With the City Watch alerted, there was no sign of the group, who were lying low while Sherrigo recovered his spells. Again, Sherrigo may have escaped had it not been for his companions - bored and sober, they started a brawl with a group of drunken soldiers that soon attracted the attention of the Watch. As the opponents mounted up, Sherrigo realised there was no escape from this one. Ollf Veshper arrived at the scene only to see his quarry run through by a massive Knight of the Watch.
Ollf had the body shipped up and ready for transporting back to Niole Dra down the Sheldomar. Then he sought out the Knight, Sir Malmatt von Uvern, who had killed the traitorous wretch, and arrange payment of the bounty. As he left the dock he walked past the Knight, who slipped past him onto the barge where Sherrigo's body lay. And it was only his body that lay there, for Sherrigo had possessed the Knight with Magic Jar, before running his own body through.
Taking a potion of healing from his own possessions, he was so intent on remedying the damage to his body that he did not hear Ollf Veshper come down the steps onto the barge behind him.
"Avarass sh'ull akrach'abi?" the Mareschal asked in the Baklunish tongue.
The Knight jumped, spinning round, staring at the Mareschal, who repeated his question. Surely a Knight of the Watch would know the simple greeting of the folk across whose borders he had watched for years on end!
Drawing his sword, Ollf smiled. "So it is you, Sherrigo!"
The Knight made to object, then also drew his sword.
"I will kill you, worm, then this fool whose body I inhabit," he declared, "and none will be any wiser to my fate!"
He lunged ineptly, revealing his lack of skill in swordplay, and, unused to his host's superior physical strength, the Mareschal pushed to the ground way, loathe to harm the innocent Knight's body. Stepping on he placed his sword's tip at the throat of the turncoat's body.
"Give up the Knight and return," Ollf declared. "I will assure you a fair trial! You may even be able to cut a deal - you cannot stay in there forever, Sherrigo, eventually you will be forced out and where will that leave you?"
The Knight had a horrified look on his face as he watched the Mareschal's blade hover over the soft, unprotected neck. With a sigh the Knight closed his eyes and crumpled to a heap on the floor. Pulling out the gem he had taken from the mage's body, Ollf brought his magical blade down on it, cracking it in two.
"You lose!" he said to the corpse, turning to help Sir Malmatt to his feet. Sherrigo the Slight was dead, and would remain that way!