Evar allowed Geirlaug and Elendr to speak their peace, listening to their rebukes between swigs of mead.

"For all this talk of purity, I fail to see what Evar knows of the Broken Isles beyond Askan," said the Jarl of Debensfeld, prompting Evar to roll his eyes. "He speaks of foreigners and peers, but need I remind you that the very land Varvudda sits on was once Drathan? That it embraces its duty as suppliers of Brokenlander flesh to the Wizard Lords?” As Elendr concluded, the Jarl of Sentinel gulped down the last of his mug before beckoning for one of the thralls to take his empty mug before rising from his seat.

"Twenty generations have passed since the last wizard resided in Sentinel. My city was once a Drathan colony, and Hammerstone was once a construct of the Ancient Ones. What of it? Our peoples have been repurposing and resettling foreign outposts for as long as outsiders have made forays into our lands. Sentinel is no exception to this rule."

"And what matter does it make if I provide the wizard lords with peasant girls? Shall we similarly weep for the pretty little things serving us our mead?" the Jarl of Sentinel asked, gesturing to the slave girls standing demurely by the Kingshall's twin hearths. "I should think the serf girls sent off to the Dratha by way of Sentinel must find their situation a mercy. Rescued from a short and bitter existence yanking ashroots out of the ground for sustenance to live a comfortable life of endless fornication. If anything I ought to be [i]thanked[/i] for my role in such a trade."

"And perhaps I do not have a long and illustrious history of daring escapades or feats of bravery to my name. I have been Jarl of Sentinel for but a year, taking over my dear father's burden to allow him rest in his twilight years. Do not support me for what I have done, but for what I shall accomplish as Regent. For the duration of the Stone Foot's rule, you have all been shackled under the heavy yoke of Stonecutter taxation. Justified by our current masters as a necessity for the common defense and prosperity of our lands, Clan Stonecutter only hoards our hard-earned tribute for themselves. Need I remind you of-"

"Evar's got the right of it!" Vignar Varvudda blurted out, rising shakily from his seat beside his son to the consternation of the Varvudda thanes in attendance. Evar was stunned by the outburst - it was the first coherent sentence his father had uttered in at least a month - but he made no attempt to calm his father down.

"I was Jarl of Sentinel when [i]her[/i] ilk landed at Askan and made war on the Broken Lands," Vignar declared, pointing a trembling finger at the High Queen. "Clan Varvudda always paid its dues to Kingsport with the hope that treasure'd be used to defend us. Instead the Stonecutters raised levies to protect their own lands and left us to our fate, allowed the Salished to burn Sentinel to the ground. I hope to die before I see my son surrender a single coin to this Rainlander bitch."

Angry shouts and a few gasps were heard when Vignar uttered [i]that[/i]. The guards had tolerated Evar declaring the High Queen unfit to rule - barely. What Vignar had said was another matter entirely. The Stonecutter guards began to converge on Vignar, which in turned prompted the Varvudda thanes to bolt up from their seats and encircle their former Jarl. Though they were disarmed, they would not allow the guards to take Evar's father without a fight.

"What are you going to do? Behead a senile man for a lapse of judgement? Be reasonable!" Evar barked to the guards, as if to order them as if they were his own. "Leave him be! I entreat everyone, stand down!"

Evar's thanes reluctantly returned to their seats. The guards, satisfied with the Varvudda thanes backing down into their chairs, dropped the matter and returned to their posts.

"I apologize on behalf of my father for what was uttered. But I will affirm that the complaint at the core of his outburst was merited. The Stonecutters have long taken from us more than they have returned. I, for one, will not tolerate this situation to continue. If you, my peers, feel the same, then lend me your support. Otherwise, I can only hope that your yokes lay lightly upon your necks."