Cleimant Council's Letters to Crown & Golden Geese
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To Crown, Golden Geese, & To Whom It Will Concern,
We correspond on behalf of Caleb Fisher, His Highness the Survivor of Willowhaven, Friend of the Old Families, True Fisher King, & Uniter of the North.
Thalaman Fisher, your rule has come to its end.
Avoid undue difficulty & relinquish your Peltarchian seat and crown to your brother & your better -- the one we & all follow & your true liege lord.
He knows the histories, trained in battle, and received Gods' blessing.
He is wise & prudent. He is kind & clear. He is just & merciful.
He is all which you are not.
In your depths, you know it, as do we, & your bygone supporters.
Already, guild masters, noble houses, & military leaders flock to our side.
It will not be long until your city's stone crumbles beneath the weight of your seat.
Make way for your sovereign. Stand & depart, in the name of the North.
We await your concession at Moonreach Keep.
We expect to hear word of your surrender soon.
The Cleiment Council
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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Private Correspondence
Nightall 01/26/25 (Five days following defeat of Col Geroldine.)
From: Caleb "Fisher"
To: Thalaman Fisher
Brother,
If that is who you remain, and this reaches you unfettered:
What have you done?
We could have stood together. As brothers, against the Zhentarim invaders. Instead you hid once more, this time behind the magic of your Crown.
What will has it exerted upon you? What bargain have you struck? What sacrifice have you made, now it's done, such that your knees would crumble under the weight of your own body?
You must surely know by now, as I do, that there is no joy in power over men. Learn, dear fool, that the Crown is a golden manacle around thy skull. Learn this, and to suffer, instead of hide. It is our duty.
Do you think it contents me to write to you in this way?
Your childish obstinance ends before you do.
Cast aside that broken Crown, abandon Peltarch's throne, and proclaim me successor. My priests, arcanists and shamen will expunge whatever foul effect that thing has inflicted upon you. I will see you restored. You will have the first seat at my side.
Spare yourself the burden of rule, and me the shame of having to press my cleim any further.
Your brother,
-- Caleb Fisher.
[DM Xanatos Gambit]
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THALAMAN, BROTHER,
I dearly regret my delay.
I would have acted sooner. Were it not for the early limitations of my armies. My mages, my priests and my druids. I would have raised my walls, mounted my weapons, and made it clear to you. That you are no longer fit -- if indeed you ever were -- to wear the Crown.
Though you are the older, we both know you are the weaker.
No longer must you suffer the responsibilities of your inherited station. Such heavy burden was bound to break the small shoulders that carried it so far.
You can see it, my sibling. I know that you can, that you are not so dulled. Does the simple reality not scream at you?
You pretend to be King of a city passed on. Whose citizens grasp at whatever straws they think they can percieve. Its hall a cold, dead machine, filled with matters of course and daily slog.
☆ ☆ ☆
Your city is as expired as the spirit of your Golden Geese.
I have met them. A pack of heroes, true. Ones to whom we owe thanks, true.
But that was an age ago.
Have you noticed they are ageless?
I expect that is trying on the soul. I fear they may be dead inside.
I pity them, as I do you, and your bygone hall. They are blunted. Tarnished. Without wonder. Without fear, at the fearsome. Without awe, at the awesome. They seem to believe themselves Gods. That they have seen all. That they are invincible. That they understand the world, as though it were maps upon a table, so clearly defined. A game to be won -- and one they could never lose.
Their spirit seems withered and perished. Skeptics, full of chill pragmatism. Without love of this world. Without mazement for the stars in the sky, the light of the moon, or the warmth of the earth.
At this stage, I question if they even anymore consider themselves human.
How could such a person guide the North anywhere but into the cold dark?
☆ ☆ ☆
With my armies, my magics, my blood, my beasts and my powers. By the light of the Moon, brother, I shine clear upon you:
Abdicate the throne.
You will have place at my court. You, and your Geese, and all those who yield to me. None will die. All will be forgiven. You can hunt, dine, wine, and enjoy the company of nobles befitting of your taste. Our armies will join, our mages assemble and our magics fuse.
With our combined vigor we shall unite the North, in the name of our father.
Act with reason. With prudence. Now, when it matters. Avoid the terrors of war and of bloodshed.
You have no doubt seen the dragon. Wroth, and its lightning. Above your city, and your army. Know the dragon is the first and least of the forces at my disposal. I have accumulated much fiercer horrors to make undeniable my vision, for the good of us all.
YOUR BROTHER AND KING,
CALEB FISHER
