OK, I am going to do e-mails mostly chronologically to prevent time paradoxes, so here goes:
The feast at Corflu continues as a celebration for days, with people coming down from Mru and newtling towns upriver, or villages off in the Mosquito Swamp, to join in. Food here is abundant unlike in Pavis. Sa'ar hears word of the famine in Pavis and slows down the feasting to collect as much food as can be spared to send upriver to Pavis. The peoples of Corflu also comb through the wreckage around Corflu and find that the Lunars have left behind much riches and useful items! The Wolf Pirates find and take a lot of this, but there is a lot left behind that they don't find. People begin dividing the loot, and Sa'ar promises you some of it as a second gift to honor all River Voices at the next holy day.
The Wolf Pirates linger off shore only until the first morning, with a few curious representatives coming into town to sample the festivities, then at dawn their wolf-prowled ships wake up with group howls of delight to set back into the open ocean, and that they do.
Among the Orlanthi, you find that there are more than Cold Wind warriors of Orlanth Adventurous here. In fact, there is a sprinking of people from just about every Lightbringer cult; Vingans, Issaries, Lhankor Mhy, a trickster, Uroxi, Humakti, etc. The Orlanthi linger longer, singing the Lunar-banned ballad "Cold Wind Over Sartar" again and again:
"Cold Wind Over Sartar
When Voria blooms in the darkness
Her blossoms swing light from each tree
When Dragon awakes and spreads fire
Its then that our land will be free.
I wander her hills and her valleys
And still through my sorrow I see
A land that has never known freedom
And only her rivers run free.
I drink to her sons and her daughters
Those ones who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage
To bring back the rites we're denied.
Where are you know that we need you,
What thunders where storm used to be?
All gone, like the rains of last season
And only our rivers run free.
How sweet is life but we're crying
How mellow the mead but we're dry
How fragrant the grape but its dying
How gentle the wind but its ice.
What good is a youth when its aging
What joy is an eye that can't see
When there's sorrow in stormwind and shower
And still only our rivers run free."
The "Only the rivers run free" line catches on with the natives, and soon everyone is singing the song, even those that care not or know little of Sartar. And thus a friendly bond is formed between the wild storm barbarians and the quiet riverfolk. Music becomes a medium where they exchange ideas and traditions, and see that they can be good friends.
The trolls? Well, not many folk see the trolls. They return quietly to their nighttime habits and slink into the swamps, or hire boats to bring them back upriver. Many people realize that the trolls at the longtime shrine of Gorakiki Dragonfly here at Corflu were intrinsic to Sa'ar's plan to free Corflu, as they brought many allies, and people are gracious now that their predatory insects keep the mosquitoes of the swamp at bay during the feasts. But few people bother to thank them, and it seems that the trolls like it that way.
The One is long gone north, but left behind for a while is a squad of newtlings from Five Eyes that followed the Cradle downriver. BVoN and the 5 eyes five (Hunter, etc.) only went with the Cradle a short distance, though. Other newtlings hang around Corflu for a long time, heaping praise and affection on the River Voices. The eerie Croakers, however, are only seen leaving Corflu into the swamps to pursue Lunars right after the battle, and never return.
Mermen gather at the Magasta shrine on a rocky prominence off shore from Corflu, and are friendly to trolls and riverfolk that come to visit. They too were invited by Sa'ar to share in the defense, and they now loot the sunken ships of the Lunar navy for their reward. They cared even less for the Lunars than for other witless landsmen, so they were glad to help.
Other mercenaries that happened to be near and willing to help remain in Corflu, and you meet people from many lands. Sailors, merchants, pirates, hunters, and outcasts, all heard the call for freedom and responded to help.
Then of course there are the riverfolk, pious and humble, and they hang on your every action. Likewise for the ducks and newtlings and other beings of the river. Words and songs spread of how the River Voices saved the Cradle, and soon your names travel upriver, the deeds growing with the distance. You find new recruits, as I'd mentioned, and others offer whatever they can afford to help the expanding River Voices. People realize now that the River Voices are crucial for the security of the river now that the Lunars are gone. And they expect more Cradles, and more trouble, so they are eager to help your bands of new River Voices get established. Much anticipation is built up for the next holy day, where most of these initiates will be inducted into the subcult of the Cleansed One.
You have time to speak to Sa'ar and hear of his foul imprisonment shortly after the Fall of Pavis, because the Lunars knew he was up to something and had useful intelligence. He knew about the Lunar priests and priestesses that had been breeding swamp broo down here, using the local river and sea creatures as stock for creating water-capable warriors to fight the Wolf Pirates. A clever plan, and it was working well -- the Lunars even built a secret shrine in the swamp where broo were inducted into the Seven Mothers! And another marine base was used to train them. Sa'ar knew all this and more, and the Lunars suspected it. Now those bases are in ruins; Sa'ar had vengeful swamp creatures seek them out and knock every stone back into the swamp.
As Lunar desparation grew, so did their appetite for torturing prisoners to get information that might help them. The Lunar force swelled as word spread that it was the last safe place for their kind in Prax. Sa'ar sat calmly and would not speak to them. He had already set his plans in action anyway; his fish messengers were swift and loyal. And so the Cradle defense was planned weeks in advance, because Sa'ar saw its coming in a dream long before, and knew that it was the chance he needed to set his people free. The freedom of the Cradle and the River were linked, he realized. And he was right. Horrible was his torture, and he saw friends die under Lunar hands, but he kept silent, unyielding. The Lunar plan was clear: they knew they were trapped like rats, with swamps all around, unkind desert to the west and east, enemies or unfriendly former allies like Raus and Sun County to the north, and Wolf Pirates and angry mermen to the south. So when they heard of the Cradle coming, they set plans into action to disable its defenders, and the surviving Lunars would board the Cradle and ride away somewhere to safety. It was their only hope. They relaxed their guards on Sa'ar in preparation for the assaults, so Sa'ar got a chance to send messages to his loyal cultists hiding out in the swamps, and they gathered what allies they could, and sent word to others all around the river.
Who of the former Corflu poplulation remains? Quite a few. Saekaelia Iridinora, the Lunar scholar who led the effort to find and reanimate the Watchdog, has not been seen since the assault started. It is unknown if she is dead or alive; her remains were not found. She had loyal newtlings who might have helped her, so it is possible that she escaped. She was not a bad person and did not consort with Chaos much, so people are not too worried. All other major Lunars are dead; a few minor folk are captive. Marcus Gratifex the decadent, corrupt, and pompous Corflu Trade Alliance administrator and his humble, educated, but incompetent slave Hahmi surrendered with pitiful cries for mercy and are held captive and are cooperating to provide information. Many people cry for their executions; they held nothing but contempt for the riverfolk. Nomelion Flactus, reluctant Captain of the Marines and down-to-earth soldier nearing retirement, fought wearily to the bitter end and died cursing the Emperor. The folk from the Ingilli family, longtime Lunar allies but devout Zola Fel worshippers, suffered little except Wolf Pirate looting.
So here you are, in Corflu and it actually isn't that bad. Lunar soldiers used to curse this place as the worst post in the Empire; when they were in a bad situation they called it being "Corflued." Now the phrase is taking on a new life among the river folk, meaning to receive an ironic justice.
Reparations begin in town and there's a lot of time to talk and meet people over the 5 days you're there. So let's finish that business first.
Chris: I'll clarify Caernak's long speech later. It may take a bit - since I failed the Orate roll, is it sufficient to say that I brought up the Raus-Five Eyes treaty, brought up the left hand, and mentioned and thanked everyone EXCEPT THE VINGANS? There weren't any on the cradle, and Caernak doesn't know that the only reason the cradle sailed is that Elohwyn decided to help Punt. If there were Vingans on the cradle, and/or Caernak knew what happened up north, the Vingans were included. He'll do his best to make up for not mentioning Elohwyn in the biggest speech he ever made (which I should have, perhaps, burned HeP to make a success, D'OH!).
John: There were a couple of unfamiliar Vingans defending the Cradle at Corflu. So you included them.
Later you learn from Sa'ar that the Cradle was anticipated in his dreams far in advance. Sa'ar thinks that it was coming anyway, and the Lost Child tale with Punt seems to be just a connection, not a reason that the Cradle came. There were subtle signs in Giantland when folks were there, such as Pain the giant following them back to Pavis. Events already seem to have been moving forward early last season, if not earlier.
It is odd that a Cradle passed so late in the year, though. Dark Season is almost unheard of for Cradles; usually they come in Sea or Earth Season. Dark season is a time of death, not life, and the river runs shallow and choked with rotting vegetation and swamps at this time.
Sa'ar tells an ancient myth, remembered by few, of how tales say that the River of Cradles acts as a great birth canal for the giantkind, sending children from their womb deep in the Rockwoods down the river to the sea, where their lives and education begin. The Cradles pass into Magasta's Pool at the center of the ocean and are dragged into Hell, where the child begins questing for knowledge and maturing. The process takes decades or centuries, they say, and the child may die and never become an Elder Giant. But the river is a crucial part of their life cycle.