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In junior high I knew a girl who used a hotdog from the lunchroom as a dildo in the bathroom but it broke off and she had to go to the hospital to have it removed.

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The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

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 thanked 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 her 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 that. 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."

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

Jarl Evar Varvudda was pleased indeed when the court herald announced the arrival of the Goldwood delegation. The arrival of the masters of the Golden Grove marked the end of nearly a fortnight of waiting for the Masters of the Broken Lands to answer his call for a Moot. In return for invoking a Moot, the High Queen and her court had offered only as much hospitality as the law of the realm required. As a show of respect for the the elderly Vignar, the former Jarl was housed and attended to by the queen's chamberlains and servants, but Evar and his thanes, huscarls, and shiphands spent the nights aboard their longboats in the harbor. It was abundantly clear that Evar was not welcome here. Even if he had been treated well, the Jarl of Sentinel would have no love for this putrid-smelling town. Evar was eager to leave this place.

"All parties have arrived, or at least all those we can reasonably expect to attend," Evar began as the Goldwood Jarl and his companions found their seats. "The Jarl of Sepulchrave is indisposed with matters in the South. We have waited more than a reasonable while for Clan Shattered Moon to send a representative in their Jarl's stead and none has arrived even after ample time was given. No one shall think our intention was to exclude them. Let us begin the Moot in earnest."

Evar took to the floor, standing before the Jarls of each corner of the realm as he continued.

((Suggested listening))

"As Jarl of Sentinel, I invoke my right to call the masters of these lands together in a Moot when the course of our realm is unclear," Evar began as he set about a slow, swaggering pace before the throne upon which the bored youth Aigoth II sat. He could almost feel the queen's icy gaze as she followed him across from her padded seat at the right hand of her son, but paid her irritation no mind.

"Such a time of uncertainty and peril has manifested itself with the passing of Aigoth Stone Foot. The royal son will doubtlessly come to be a capable ruler of these lands. But for now, however, Aigoth II is merely a child and our realm must have sound leadership until the boy has come of age. Leadership we will not find in our High Queen."

Only the crackling of the fires of the Kingshall's twin hearths could be heard as an uncomfortable silence settled over the throne chamber. Men had been beheaded for uttering kinder words regarding the master of the Broken Lands. Evar half expected an outburst of dissent from the guards or perhaps the queen herself, or perhaps one of the Jarls. But there was nothing but silence for a seemingly interminable moment. The lack of protest encouraged the Jarl of Sentinel.

"I have no ill will against our High Queen. She has served our king graciously and given him a strong and healthy son. But it is not within her purview to rule our realm. Indeed, she is not even a native of these lands. How can we expect a noble from the Rainlands who has scarcely left these halls to rule competently over our lands? What does she know of the Broken Isles, the Northlands, Necroleste, or Debensfeld? Until Aigoth II is old enough to serve as our king, the Broken Lands must be governed not by some foreigner, but by a peer. Only a native of these lands can ever hope to command any respect over our peoples."

"Let that peer be me. Evar Varvudda, Regent of the Broken Lands."

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

Clan Varvudda

Clan Varvudda

---

Jarl: Jarl Evar Varvudda
Government Type: Jarldom
Location: Askan - One of the long peninsulas jutting off southeastward of the southern landmass.
Clan Description: Due to its proximity to the traditional centers of Drathan influence, Askan falls squarely in the middle of the orbits of the High King of the Fanghall and the wizard masters of the Bay of Teeth. The rulers of this land have traditionally used their position at the threshold of the Crooked Island for their own profit, usually by playing off the two civilizations or by serving as intermediaries betwixt such disparate cultures. Clan Varvudda is no exception to this rule. The wizard lords on the northern periphery of the Drathan world have an insatiable appetite for fair-skinned concubines and savage reaver mercenaries for their endless conflicts with rival Dratha; Clan Varvudda has been happy to meet Drathan demand in exchange for plenty of silver teeth.

The wealth of Clan Varvudda has not gone unnoticed, as the High King has always levied substantial taxes upon the Jarls of Askan. For decades, the Varvudda Jarls simply grumbled and paid their dues. But when Vizier Ghozirad and his flotilla of Salished barques landed upon the shores of Askan some forty years ago, the fortunes of the Varvudda Jarls were spent fortifying the Kingsport and Fanghall while the Salished hosts plundered Sentinel unmolested. Aigoth Stone Foot and his own host eventually drove the Rainlanders back across the Chain of Fire, but not until Askan was thoroughly despoiled. The current Jarl, Evar, had not even been born when the Salished attacked, but his father's furious lamentations made the situation abundantly clear. As Evar Varvudda understands, High King does not mean to protect Clan Varvudda but to hold them ransom. With his father's health seriously degraded, Evar Varvudda now serves as the Jarl of Askan, and he will ill tolerate seeing his clan ransomed any longer.

Clan History: Ancient sagas of the local Crooked Islanders attest that the Drathan peoples have long had some presence in the land of Askan. Long ago, a diaspora of lesser wizards left the Drathan homelands in the Ashlands in search of even less hospitable - and less contested - lands to rule. Drathan holdings spread north across the Chain of Fire, and at some point appeared as far north as the Crooked Isles. Zar Maliif, situated on one of the southernmost peninsulas, became a modest Drathan holding whose economy revolved around capturing native peoples and selling them as slaves to other wizard lords. For several centuries, Zar Maliff was likely the most advanced and populous settlement in all of the Crooked Isles but in a single afternoon, Zar Maliff was destroyed. When the nearby volcano Fyrghaalig erupted and a plume of toxic smoke and ash roiled down across the plains to the coast, all living beings in the city were snuffed out.

Native peoples soon settled the ruins of the Drathan city, and powerful warlords arose to dominate the deceased wizard's palace - a small cone volcano carved into a citadel by a century of slave labor. Under the warlords of Clan Varvudda, Zar Maliif rose from the ashes of the eruption to become Sentinel and to this day serves as the seat of power of Clan Varvudda.

Important Holdings/Territory/Possessions: Sentinel is likely the oldest continuously inhabited (excluding the fortnights following the eruption of Fyrghaalig) settlement in all of the Crooked Isles, and is also possibly the wealthiest. It is named for the 100 foot-tall tower of volcanic pumice-stone that serves as the residence of the Jarl. Carved from a dormant cinder volcano centuries ago by Drathan slaves, the Sentinel itself sits upon a fluvial island located at the mouth of a braided, shallow river. Situated in the southernmost reaches of the Crooked Isles, Sentinel is sometimes known to outlanders as the "threshold of the Crooked Isles" or, more pejoratively, "the ass-end of the civilized world". Of those few outlanders that travel to the Crooked Isles, most go no farther than Sentinel. It is an enclave of the outer world, frequented mostly by foreign traders buying furs, walrus ivory, or slaves.

Beyond Sentinel, there are a smattering of unremarkable hamlets and pitiful keeps across the Askan countryside occupied by petty lords owing fealty to the Jarl.

Regional Geography: Askan is, compared to the rest of the Crooked Isles, relatively hospitable. It is a rugged, windswept land with extremely variable topography. Flat coastal plains transition quickly to rolling hills and then to jagged peaks dominated by active volcanoes. Trees are uncommon in this realm, and the land is covered mostly in short, dense grass interrupted by the occasional tuft of brush or copse of scruffy, wind-stunted larches. The soil is rich and black from the ash from the numerous cinder cones scattered across Askan, making the land reasonably suitable for farming hardier crops. The peasants prefer starchy, unpalatable ashroot and graze sheep and cattle in order to maximize the extraction of calories from the land before the onset of the long, brutal winter that is scarcely mitigated by this land's location near the southern edge of the Crooked Isles.

Settlements:

Relation to other Factions: TBD

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

Seawater crashed under the bow of the longboat, spraying the front of the vessel in a fine mist of salty spray that matted the long, black mane of Evar Varvudda standing upon the bowsprit. Clutching the mast rigging, the Jarl of Sentinel stared into the fogbank with a steely gaze, unfazed by the bobbing of the longboat or the cold seaspray washing over him. Even as droplets of seawater glistened upon the edges of his well-groomed beard and the cloak of reindeer fur draped over his leather tunic, the Jarl did not remove his attention from the towers and ramparts peering out above the rank-smelling fogbanks. The deckhands toiling behind Evar, like all those who served under the Jarl of Sentinel, were accustomed to such behavior. The young Jarl had proven to be a stern and fastidious master. When Evar wished something done, he was known to be nigh obsessive in seeing it through - going a as long as a day or two without sleeping or eating until some minor task was accomplished. What Evar wished, he got.

What Evar desired today was an audience with the High Queen, the master of all the Broken Lands now that Aigoth Stone Foot was dead. When the word of the High King's bizarre passing reached Sentinel, Evar immediately made preparations to make for Kingsport. Three days prior, Evar and seventeen of his thanes left Sentinel aboard all of his longboats for the capital of the Broken Lands. Now, at last, he had arrived.

Fishermen in tiny wicker coracles paddled hastily out of the way to avoid the four great longboats that had suddenly burst through the veil of fog surrounding the harbor of Kingsport. Though the deckhands of the ships had manned the oars for lack of wind in the still, foggy air of the harbor, the sails bearing the blue octopus crest of Clan Varvudda had been left completely unfurled. This was no error made by unseasoned longboat captains, but an entirely intentional act meant to announce the arrival of Jarl Evar Varvudda.

"See to it that Father is helped out of the boat," Evar ordered over his shoulder before resuming watch over the harbor of Kingsport. Just above the fog, Evar could make out the guardsmen scurrying about upon the walls and atop the guard towers; horn blasts trumpeting through the fetid mist. The arrival of the Varvudda flotilla had been noted.

The longboats bypassed the wharves and jetties built to accommodate deep-draughted vessels, rowing directly toward a gravelly beach on the periphery of the city. The longboat lurched as the stones of the shore crunched under their sturdy hulls. When he felt his ship come to a complete stop, Evar simply leapt from the bowsprit and landed amidst the roiling surf of the beach with a meaty splash. One by one, the other longboats beached themselves upon the shore with long, crunching groans.

The deckhands soon followed Evar onto the beach with bundles of thick mooring rope, before setting about heaving the longboats well onto the beach out of reach of waves that might carry the ships out to sea. His thanes placed a long gangplank down from the bow of one longboat and shortly thereafter descended onto the beach with their arms firmly grasping the arms of a frail, withered man who descended down the gangplank with jittery, unsure steps: Vignar Varvudda, Jarl Emeritus of Sentinel.

"Father, I trust the journey has treated you well." Evar greeted, gently wrapping his arms around his shoulder. Vignar slowly rose his trembling arms to embrace his son before nodding slowly in response. The former Jarl of Clan Varvudda had not aged gracefully. Weak and nearly-mute, Vignar left the leadership of Sentinel to Evar about a year ago and his condition had only worsened since then. This would almost certainly be Vignar's last visit to the capital. Evar would see to it that it was a fortuitous occasion for his father.

"I imagine it has been a very long while since you have seen Kingsport." Evar commented. For a concerning moment, Vignar did naught but slowly roll his head back and make a gurgling sound. Evar's thanes pressed in closer, fearing that the former Jarl was going to have another spell. Vignar then rolled his head back forward to hock a foamy wad of saliva onto the ground, relieving everyone and eliciting hearty laughter from the thanes and deckhands.

"My sentiments precisely, father."

As the laughter died down, a contingent of guards emerged from the mist and approached the Jarl and his retinue. The thanes gathered around Evar and Vignar, quickly sobered by the arrival of the Queen's men.

"My fellow subjects, I am Evar Varvudda, Jarl of Sentinel and Master of Askan. I appear before you today to seek an audience with our High Queen. There is much that needs to be discussed."

"I regret to inform you, good Jarl, that the High Queen is not seeing anyone for some time," the gravelly-voiced leader of the guard contingent declared. "I will, however, pass your condolences on to he-"

"I am not here to provide well-wishes," snapped Evar. "I have come to invoke a Moot."

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

If accepted, may we post now? Or would you like for us to wait for a second post?

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

Clan Varvudda

---

Jarl: Jarl Evar Varvudda
Government Type: Jarldom
Location: Askan - One of the long peninsulas jutting off southeastward of the southern landmass.
Clan Description: Due to its proximity to the traditional centers of Drathan influence, Askan falls squarely in the middle of the orbits of the High King of the Fanghall and the wizard masters of the Bay of Teeth. The rulers of this land have traditionally used their position at the threshold of the Crooked Island for their own profit, usually by playing off the two civilizations or by serving as intermediaries betwixt such disparate cultures. Clan Varvudda is no exception to this rule. The wizard lords on the northern periphery of the Drathan world have an insatiable appetite for fair-skinned concubines and savage reaver mercenaries for their endless conflicts with rival Dratha; Clan Varvudda has been happy to meet Drathan demand in exchange for plenty of silver teeth.

The wealth of Clan Varvudda has not gone unnoticed, as the High King has always levied substantial taxes upon the Jarls of Askan. For decades, the Varvudda Jarls simply grumbled and paid their dues. But when Vizier Ghozirad and his flotilla of Salished barques landed upon the shores of Askan some forty years ago, the fortunes of the Varvudda Jarls were spent fortifying the Kingsport and Fanghall while the Salished hosts plundered Sentinel unmolested. Aigoth Stone Foot and his own host eventually drove the Rainlanders back across the Chain of Fire, but not until Askan was thoroughly despoiled. The current Jarl, Evar, had not even been born when the Salished attacked, but his father's furious lamentations made the situation abundantly clear. As Evar Varvudda understands, High King does not mean to protect Clan Varvudda but to hold them ransom. With his father's health seriously degraded, Evar Varvudda now serves as the Jarl of Askan, and he will ill tolerate seeing his clan ransomed any longer.

Clan History: Ancient sagas of the local Crooked Islanders attest that the Drathan peoples have long had some presence in the land of Askan. Long ago, a diaspora of lesser wizards left the Drathan homelands in the Ashlands in search of even less hospitable - and less contested - lands to rule. Drathan holdings spread north across the Chain of Fire, and at some point appeared as far north as the Crooked Isles. Zar Maliif, situated on one of the southernmost peninsulas, became a modest Drathan holding whose economy revolved around capturing native peoples and selling them as slaves to other wizard lords. For several centuries, Zar Maliff was likely the most advanced and populous settlement in all of the Crooked Isles but in a single afternoon, Zar Maliff was destroyed. When the nearby volcano Fyrghaalig erupted and a plume of toxic smoke and ash roiled down across the plains to the coast, all living beings in the city were snuffed out.

Native peoples soon settled the ruins of the Drathan city, and powerful warlords arose to dominate the deceased wizard's palace - a small cone volcano carved into a citadel by a century of slave labor. Under the warlords of Clan Varvudda, Zar Maliif rose from the ashes of the eruption to become Sentinel and to this day serves as the seat of power of Clan Varvudda.

Important Holdings/Territory/Possessions: Sentinel is likely the oldest continuously inhabited (excluding the fortnights following the eruption of Fyrghaalig) settlement in all of the Crooked Isles, and is also possibly the wealthiest. It is named for the 100 foot-tall tower of volcanic pumice-stone that serves as the residence of the Jarl. Carved from a dormant cinder volcano centuries ago by Drathan slaves, the Sentinel itself sits upon a fluvial island located at the mouth of a braided, shallow river. Situated in the southernmost reaches of the Crooked Isles, Sentinel is sometimes known to outlanders as the "threshold of the Crooked Isles" or, more pejoratively, "the ass-end of the civilized world". Of those few outlanders that travel to the Crooked Isles, most go no farther than Sentinel. It is an enclave of the outer world, frequented mostly by foreign traders buying furs, walrus ivory, or slaves.

Beyond Sentinel, there are a smattering of unremarkable hamlets and pitiful keeps across the Askan countryside occupied by petty lords owing fealty to the Jarl.

Regional Geography: Askan is, compared to the rest of the Crooked Isles, relatively hospitable. It is a rugged, windswept land with extremely variable topography. Flat coastal plains transition quickly to rolling hills and then to jagged peaks dominated by active volcanoes. Trees are uncommon in this realm, and the land is covered mostly in short, dense grass interrupted by the occasional tuft of brush or copse of scruffy, wind-stunted larches. The soil is rich and black from the ash from the numerous cinder cones scattered across Askan, making the land reasonably suitable for farming hardier crops. The peasants prefer starchy, unpalatable ashroot and graze sheep and cattle in order to maximize the extraction of calories from the land before the onset of the long, brutal winter that is scarcely mitigated by this land's location near the southern edge of the Crooked Isles.

Settlements:

Relation to other Factions: TBD

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

A map a I drew for the RP.

The Empty Throne: War in the Broken Lands

I'm in. Will get started on the sheet tonight.