#baronyofthesilverwolf

Gwen pulls up in front of the Carthage town hall, her car coming to a stop with a soft crunch of gravel. The historian’s office is on the second floor, tucked away in a corner that seems almost deliberately hidden. Elias Aberdeen, the town’s aged sluagh historian, is not someone you visit lightly.

She also knows that he doesn’t visit the Manor, out of deference to Baroness Nadeen.. Yet, fae from Silverwolf often find themselves in his presence when they need information that only he can provide.

She carries the food carefully up the steps. Not wanting her weight to damage the stairs, and goes to the door to knock gently.

The door creaks open after a moment, and Elias Aberdeen’s thin, pale face peeks out. His dark, piercing eyes study Gwen for a moment before he nods slightly.

“Miss Gwen,” he says with a courteous nod, “I see you’ve brought a treat. Please, come in.”

He steps aside, inviting her into his office. The space is orderly and filled with the scent of old books and parchment. Elias gestures to a chair opposite his desk, where stacks of documents and old records are neatly arranged.

“Do have a seat. How may I assist you today?”

"I hope you don't mind the presumption" She says gently, "My mother insisted I bring something, and being a Daireann it did seem proper to do so. Where would you like me to put this, sir?"

Elias nods appreciatively at the gesture. “Not at all, Miss Gwen. I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

He gestures to a small side table near the window. “Please place it there. I’m sure my niece will appreciate these as well, though she is not here at the moment.”

He motions for Gwen to take a seat. “Now, how can I be of service today?”

She places it there gently, "Oh, how is Miss Lizbet? I saw her about a week ago but it was in passing." Then she realizes this is the second time she's been asked how he can be of service, "Pardon, I suppose I should cut to the chase. I come here out of respect for your expertise, sir. I could use help in identifying a certain symbol, old heraldry I suspect but am not sure."

Elias nods thoughtfully as Gwen places the cakes on the table. “Miss Lizbet is well, though she’s been rather busy with her studies and projects. I’m sure she’ll be pleased with this treat. I am certain she will regret missing you. She has always spoken fondly of your company.”

He gestures for Gwen to sit down, then leans forward with a keen interest. “Now, let’s discuss this symbol. Please describe it for me or, if you have an image, I would be glad to examine it.”

Clearly she has caught his attention.

"Here, this is a copy of the image we uncovered and thus may have flaws. At first we thought the rose Leanhaun related," She is less than pleased by that notion, not good for dreamers, "But it is a common heraldric component I'm told"

Elias takes the image and studies it carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examines the rose and hammer crest. He remains silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“This symbol,” he says finally, “is indeed passing familiar. Roses are common, yes, but the rose and hammer together are not common in heraldry without context. This particular design is linked to a former member of the court of Lord Conall ap Ailil. The individual in question was Sir Caelan Stoneweaver ap Ailil, was a sorcerer of some note. Tell me, in what context has this arisen? Idle curiosity, or something more?"

(Revised for clarity)

"Something more, sir. May I assume that not only will my sharinng of this information help you give even more wisdom, it also helps count as my payment to you for this service? "

His eyes narrow a touch, and he sits back in his chair. "A shrewd attempt, but I think not." He gives her a thin smile. "If it is a matter of some import, the details will come to me in time. Yes, all things do, in time. Yet, you are here, because clearly I can provide what others cannot. The name, I have given, for free. If you wish more detail, all knowledge has a, I would venture to say very fair, price."

She blushes "Not to offend, but having a sluagh friend has taught me to be cautious of giving away too much without some.... pro for the quid?"

A slight wave of his hand. "No offense taken."

She ponders this "I am glad. I would not be a rude guest in my effort to be a 'shrewd one', but I might also point out we have other avenues that we're pursuing even now. Squire Arthur ap Beaumayn has been training, and has become even more learned with training in matters mystical and historical. I do not do this to dimiss your superiority in that area, you are the Expert, but a talented Novice is Handy."

"As for context? In truth, part of my hestitation is born of how secret others involved wanted it to be. But I do not recall any such request on their part. So I think I can be more forth coming"

He considers, then offers, "Provide to me a summarization of that which the young Squire finds, and I will consider that fair trade for the information I can offer in return. In addition, I will ask you to tell me what prompts this search. Such is vital to providing the right details. Are you seeking a byblow of one of his romantic conquests? Details of his prowess in Battle? A recording of his political acumen in court procedings of days gone past?" He waves a hand expressively, "I could go on. Sidhe are not simple creatures, and no man's life can be easily summarized."

"Indeed, sir. Were I more mecurial, I would say 'Once upon a time, in a land right here, there was a Glome'... " Then she waves that narrative style off, "David the Glome, to be honest. He had been of some aid to me you see, and thus a guest at the holding of SIlverwolf. However, it was he who first noticed the tremors. Have you had any objects around here fall down of late? Things on shelves knocked over without seeming reason and such?"

"Possibly. I had presumed it was cleaners being sloppy with their work, I lost a rather nice vase. Nothing precious, but it was an annoyance." He considers this.

"Lord Caelan was a stoneworker of renown. One moment..." He stands, his bones creaking, and moves over to a bookshelf. It slides aside, and reveals another, hidden shelf behind it, this one filled with chimerical tomes. A few moments of consideration, and he brings a small stack of books.

The first he opens to show illuminated designs of heraldry. He pages through, passing colorful shields of all design. Finally he lands on a page that shows a number of symbols, personal crests.

She recognizes the symbols of Silverwolf, both past and the current version with House Varich represented. She even gets a glimpse of another few she knows, from local knights. Hey, is that Crawford's slavering pitbull emblem?

But then he pages back, and, rests a finger just above a crest. In color, she can see that the shield is black, the hammer and rose both silver. With more detail visible, she can see that the hammer is not a normal carpentry tool, but looks specialized. The leaves of the rose also have an odd shape to them, almost like they are the tips of chisels.

"This is the Emblem you copied, in more detail."

He is already flipping through a second book, even as she views the first.

Even as he reads, he relates to her, "The rose and hammer together, as seen here, represent Caelan's craft—his prowess in stoneworking and sorcery. The hammer, which is specialized and chiseling in shape, reflects his expertise in shaping both stone and magic. Should you take a personal crest some day, I would be quite pleased to record it."

She looks over it, a smile at Crawford's emblem, then she says "Indeed. I would love to make a copy of this if allowed. If not, I understand. I think Thistle would find it intriguing. Hammer for Stonework use, that makes sense. " She ponders "Lord Caelan... but I wonder how long ago he set up what we've uncovered? So he is the 'Master of Stone and Sorcery' that carved the sigils 'long before the world I knew was born' ... rose and hammer, and he ruled too. At least in one life or another. And now the Sentinel stirs, but it may have been woken too early... both shield and sword... a guardian of Earth and magic. Wrought tos tand against the tides of time and threat on completion. It's purpose interrupted"

At the mention of a personal crest, she both puffs up and demures. It's clear the notion pleases her.

"Hm. That, I cannot say. It is quite possible that this was a project being worked on over more than one lifetime." He is holding a slender volume, the bold title reading: "High Crimes and Low Deeds: The Hidden Sins of the Sidhe"

A brow as she sees the title "Interesting title"

"As for what I said sir, that's from the original sigil's mouth, ala Willow Whisper. Not the most precise cantrip, but I thought it was only fair to exchange it to you in the interest of furthering your aid in return."

"Silverwolf Barony, like so many others, was formed from land and glamour once belonging to common folk following the Resurgence. It is an old tale, a common one. I merely record the details, I am not a judge." He shrugs his bony shoulders expressively. "Sir Caelan met his end in the Accordance War. Ah, here." He has found the passage he sought.

She is curious again

He shows Gwen a passage.

"I’m not one for flowery words or sentimental tales. I reckon that’s why they put me in this book. I'm just a boggan from the rougher side of life. When Caelan Stoneweaver met his end, it was at the hands of an honest arrow. One that did more than he deserved, if you ask me. Stoneweaver was no saint. They said he was crafting some monstrous thing—some stone beast meant to crush us common folk like bugs under a boulder. Didn’t even care if it was true or just a rumor; the man had enough darkness in him to make it believable.

His death? Truth be told, we won’t miss him. Not one bit. Those returning Elves were a blight on our land, and his absence is a breath of fresh air for those of us who had to live under his shadow. That’s the way of things, sometimes. A bit of grit and grime, mixed with a touch of justice."

The quote is attributed to "Bodie Morrow, Boggan Liberation Activist"

(Fixed one misspoken but very vital word 😅 )

"I think I can respect Mr. Morrow whether I agree with him or no" Gwen admits

"History, as they say, is written by the victors. However, if one looks, more accounts can always be found. There are always two sides, or more, to any conflict." He closes the book and carefully tucks it away. "I will ask, with that respect, that you do not share too publicly the existence of this tome. Perhaps someday it will be published more widely. However, there are still many who would take the words as a personal affront, and I would not have them be lost."

"A more than fair request," She nods "And I don't want to take part in ANYTHING that leads to book burning anyway. "

“It is always valuable to see both sides of a story, particularly when dealing with complex individuals. History is rarely black and white; often, it is a tapestry of varying shades and perspectives.”

Elias carefully opens a volume titled Echoes of Carthage. He places it on the table with a deliberate gesture.

“This book,” Elias begins with a measured tone, “provides a different perspective on Caelan Stoneweaver. It’s titled Echoes of Carthage, and it delves into his contributions as an architect and visionary. The title itself is a nod to his ambition—he sought to replicate the grandeur of the ancient Carthage within our own Carthage, NY.

Gwen recognizes one picture from the book, it's an arch that stands over one of the entrances to town. A cool feature, but not something she really thought twice about.

One of his most notable achievements was the design and construction of the Carthagian Arch, a grand structure that echoes the architectural prowess of the ancient city from which Carthage takes it's name. The arch stands as a testament to his skill and vision, blending classical aesthetics with local materials and techniques. It remains a point of pride and historical interest in the town.

The book highlights how Stoneweaver’s work was not merely a display of power but an effort to enrich and beautify the community. It portrays him as a man of considerable talent who, despite the controversial aspects of his legacy, left behind tangible contributions that continue to influence and inspire.

She looks it over as well, "I'm a Native American, sir. I know what it's like to see the great and truly lovely works of those who conquered your ancestors. To know that one person's hero is another's villain. Like you said, rarely simple"

She looks over at the arch "Lovely" A sigh "And worth investigating. If Mr. Marrow is right about the sentinel's purpose, then we cannot let it rise. If he's wrong, probably still not a good idea. Thank you, Mister Aberdeen, you may have helped me in efforts to save fae lives"

Elias looks thoughtful. "If this is a creation of Stoneweaver, as you assume, it may be a great boon to the Barony to have such a protector guided in defense of the Barony. But if uncontrollable..." He shakes his head.

"It is in your hands now, but rest assured, I will remain to record the results." A pause, and he remarks, "DO try to provide me with that crest before you potentially court an early demise."

Ahem and her indigo cheeks darken "Troll modesty wars with Dairrean desire for glory I fear. I suppose I should just go ahead and get one made and stop pretending to myself. When I do, I'll make sure you're alerted. I hope the deeds I've done ,and the ones that follow, paint me, in this life, as more of a heroine than a villainess. I suppose before this life is done, I will be considered SOME One's villain, it is how people work. Do you think a Dog on the blazon would be a bit too on the nose?"

Elias listens to Gwen, his eyes sharp and discerning. "Troll modesty and Daireann pride—an intriguing mix, no doubt. As for your crest, a dog might indeed be on the nose, but it’s also a symbol of loyalty and guardianship. It would speak to your values, even if it lacks subtlety. After all, you serve a Lord of SilverWolf whose crest is... a silver wolf." The faintest of smiles.

"In the end, a crest is a reflection of how you wish to be remembered, but also of the deeds you choose to undertake. A dog may be obvious, but it is also enduring. And remember, it’s not just the symbol that matters, but the legacy you leave behind."

Elias’s tone softens slightly. "As for being someone’s villain—well, that’s inevitable. To stand for something is to stand against something else. Just ensure that, when the tales are told, the good you do outweighs the harm, and your story will be one worth telling, both by friend and foe alike."

He gives a final nod, more somber. "When your crest is ready, I’ll record it. After all, history remembers those who choose to leave a mark, even if it’s in the shape of a dog."

"Thank you, sir. I hope I'm never your enemy. I've a great respect for your lore and the fact you do care for this area and its people in your way. You're a bit of a guardian yourself, of history." She says the former without malice and all of it with earnestness. She rises slowly, "And your wisdom is appreciated. Indeed, it may turn out to be crucial. I admit that much. And thank you again for bringing the crest to mind, it stirs my creative side, and even trolls need that." An incline of her head, "By your leave, sir?"

Elias nods in acknowledgment, his expression softening slightly at Gwen’s words. “I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Gwen. Guardianship takes many forms, and preserving the past is my way of ensuring a future. It’s not often that my efforts are recognized as such, so your words do not fall on deaf ears.”

With a formal but respectful nod, Elias grants her leave.

She returns the nod, and departs. Interesting man.