Jun 2, 2025 10:02 pm
Our tale begins by the identically-named lake and town of Silverlake, a village of roughly 100 souls in the Havens. The villagers eke out a meager existence by fishing the small lake, supplementing their diet with vegetables grown in small gardens. Though the village is considered poor even by Ironlands standards, the villagers are known for their generosity and fairness...though not, unfortunately, for their martial ability.
Thus why Ravik Vett has come here. He heard they were in need of an Ironsworn while traveling, and now sits in the simple home of Maerin Alston, the village's leader. Silverlake practices a form of direct democracy, with everyone over the age of 18 able to vote. Leaders serve four-year terms, and apparently there are protocols to impeach and remove a poor leader.
Ravik cares little about this, however. He has no plans to reside in Silverlake; he has a goal he needs to accomplish, and though he's intent, he's realistic enough to know his vow will likely take years to complete.
He is interested, however, in Maerin. No wise old crone is she. Ravik puts her age in the mid-30s, and she's unquestionably gorgeous. When he arrived, he'd had cynical thoughts: had this siren slept her way to a leadership position?
But it only took a few seconds of conversation to realize Maerin possessed a keen intellect and a formidable will. She gestures to a table now, where a plate of fried fish and a tankard of ale sit.
Maerin: "Care to fill an empty stomach before we get down to business? I'm quite a good cook, you know. Those perch are delectable."
Ravik: "Thank you, but no."
He knew it was unlikely she'd poisoned the food, but Ravik was a hunted man. And even when he was with the Black Echo, he was wary of what he consumed. Many members had dispatched rivals with poison.
His curt answer seems to throw off Maerin, but she quickly recovers, flashing him a winsome smile.
Maerin: "Suit yourself. Let's begin."
She sits down gracefully and crosses her legs. Ravik moves his chair so his back faces a wall, then sits down.
A rare beauty...with a rare personality to match. I can't let myself get entangled....
Maerin: "As you've seen, we're a simple village, not known for birthing adventurers. Though some people (myself included) dive in the lake in search of treasure. Occasionally something of worth is found...but usually we only find mud."
Ravik only nods to this, so Maerin continues.
Maerin: "You may know of Alva's Rest to the northeast. A place of terror and pain, from all reports, ruled by that abomination Alva the Reaver. Thankfully, we are...were...too far away for the wight and her demented followers to easily raid us. Other villages, closer to that fell place, suffered...but not us."
"That's changed. Some raiders slaughtered a hunting part last week. Five villagers dead, one escaped, with apparently no casualties for the raiders. We actually believe the one was allowed to escape, to herald the coming terror. The survivor detailed the butchery, and told of white cloaks and bone masks. There's little doubt they were Alva's followers."
"We fear the coming storm. We're not seasoned fighters. If Alva attacks Silverlake in earnest, it will burn."
"Will you help us?"
Ravik considers for a long moment. He had a larger goal, yes, but that goal couldn't be accomplished easily. Should he attack the Black Echo directly along the coast and islands, where they were strongest, he'd fail. It was better to travel through the other regions of the Ironlands and acquire aid, items of power, and experience. He could whittle away at the guild from the outside, and finish them off when he finally had an insurmountable edge.
Ravik: "I will. I'm not from the Havens, but even I've heard of Alva and her reign of terror. It's shameful that no others have stopped her...."
Maerin: "Others have tried, Ravik. Do not discount their efforts."
Ravik: "I don't. But they've failed, and the problem has only grown. But let's not argue. If you dislike my use of the word 'shameful,' I withdraw it. Perhaps 'unfortunate' would be better."
He pulls out one of his daggers and places his hand on the iron blade.
Ravik: "I swear an Iron Vow to destroy Alva the Reaver, and annihilate or disperse her followers. Let Maerin Alston, the gods, and the spirits, hear my vow."
Thus why Ravik Vett has come here. He heard they were in need of an Ironsworn while traveling, and now sits in the simple home of Maerin Alston, the village's leader. Silverlake practices a form of direct democracy, with everyone over the age of 18 able to vote. Leaders serve four-year terms, and apparently there are protocols to impeach and remove a poor leader.
Ravik cares little about this, however. He has no plans to reside in Silverlake; he has a goal he needs to accomplish, and though he's intent, he's realistic enough to know his vow will likely take years to complete.
He is interested, however, in Maerin. No wise old crone is she. Ravik puts her age in the mid-30s, and she's unquestionably gorgeous. When he arrived, he'd had cynical thoughts: had this siren slept her way to a leadership position?
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Maerin: "Care to fill an empty stomach before we get down to business? I'm quite a good cook, you know. Those perch are delectable."
Ravik: "Thank you, but no."
He knew it was unlikely she'd poisoned the food, but Ravik was a hunted man. And even when he was with the Black Echo, he was wary of what he consumed. Many members had dispatched rivals with poison.
His curt answer seems to throw off Maerin, but she quickly recovers, flashing him a winsome smile.
Maerin: "Suit yourself. Let's begin."
She sits down gracefully and crosses her legs. Ravik moves his chair so his back faces a wall, then sits down.
A rare beauty...with a rare personality to match. I can't let myself get entangled....
Maerin: "As you've seen, we're a simple village, not known for birthing adventurers. Though some people (myself included) dive in the lake in search of treasure. Occasionally something of worth is found...but usually we only find mud."
Ravik only nods to this, so Maerin continues.
Maerin: "You may know of Alva's Rest to the northeast. A place of terror and pain, from all reports, ruled by that abomination Alva the Reaver. Thankfully, we are...were...too far away for the wight and her demented followers to easily raid us. Other villages, closer to that fell place, suffered...but not us."
"That's changed. Some raiders slaughtered a hunting part last week. Five villagers dead, one escaped, with apparently no casualties for the raiders. We actually believe the one was allowed to escape, to herald the coming terror. The survivor detailed the butchery, and told of white cloaks and bone masks. There's little doubt they were Alva's followers."
"We fear the coming storm. We're not seasoned fighters. If Alva attacks Silverlake in earnest, it will burn."
"Will you help us?"
Ravik considers for a long moment. He had a larger goal, yes, but that goal couldn't be accomplished easily. Should he attack the Black Echo directly along the coast and islands, where they were strongest, he'd fail. It was better to travel through the other regions of the Ironlands and acquire aid, items of power, and experience. He could whittle away at the guild from the outside, and finish them off when he finally had an insurmountable edge.
Ravik: "I will. I'm not from the Havens, but even I've heard of Alva and her reign of terror. It's shameful that no others have stopped her...."
Maerin: "Others have tried, Ravik. Do not discount their efforts."
Ravik: "I don't. But they've failed, and the problem has only grown. But let's not argue. If you dislike my use of the word 'shameful,' I withdraw it. Perhaps 'unfortunate' would be better."
He pulls out one of his daggers and places his hand on the iron blade.
Ravik: "I swear an Iron Vow to destroy Alva the Reaver, and annihilate or disperse her followers. Let Maerin Alston, the gods, and the spirits, hear my vow."
