Dawn, Readying 21, 591 Common Year

Indranil says, “Cousin, I would wish to attack Tavasmok and finish the
Deathwalkers immediately this morning, and then go after G’ruk.”

Fingol says, “Lady Rain and I were just discussing strategy for the
negotiations. When we are clear on that, I would like to discuss what
we are all to do if those talks fail. So be patient just a few
moments.”

Drago says in Common when everyone is in earshot, “I can offer some
small concessions on behalf of the lizardfolk in our negotiations
today with the Deathwalkers. I think Ulmar and I should go alone to
Patriarch Tavasmok while the rest of you free Saeva. The Patriarch
already knows about us. And I will live with them here in either peace
or war, long after you are gone. Let the lizardfolk and changelings do
what the humans refuse to do for themselves, mediate a temporary
alliance with the Deathwalkers.” After taking a breathe momentarily,
Drago mutters in Draconic, “If they can’t work with their own species,
then truly they are only worthy of being our food source. Lost in
their factions of good and evil. Ptah!”

Indranil looks at Drago and replies in Draconic, “Drago I speak
Draconic and I agree the humans can get caught in their own struggles.
But we are all beings that deserve respect. Your allusions to us as
only being good for a food source is deeply disturbing.”

Rain replies in Draconic with a hint of anger, “Agreed. You would best
take better care of your words, Drago. At the very least learn to keep
those thoughts to yourself.”

Aramek says, “Indeed, friend Drago. As I have gotten to know and train
with you, I have not doubted your friendship. However, this kind of
talk can plant such a seed. Each race in our world has its good and
bad traits and good and bad individuals. I believe that even among the
gnolls, it’s possible to find those among them who could be
reasonable. Please don’t sow discord among us with such ill chosen
words.” Aramek crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Drago
expectantly.

Drago says, “Feedstock. For a thousand years the humans have been
feedstock for the beast men. This is the way of Thracia. This you
should understand. Human flesh feeds the city. Deathwalker flesh feeds
the city. ‘Why kill off its feed source?’ I ask myself. You really
pissed off His Majesty.”

Drago.” Fingol cautions, “Lady Rain and I are discussing the strategy
for negotiations now. Have patience and we’ll discuss next steps
soon.”

“Friends,” Fingol calls out, “Please disregard his comments. There are
greater challenges before us.”

Indranil turns away from Drago and moves to Fingol and Lorindel and
says quietly to them in Elvish, “I fear my penance from Ehlenestra
will be diffficult to keep,” he chuckles.

Lorindel chuckles as well, and then says back in Elvish, “Indeed. But
Brother, do not let Drago goad you into another argument. Most of
what he says is inflammatory for the sole purpose to elicit a hostile
reaction. If anything, your complaints will only fuel his desire to
egg you on.”

Fingol chuckles as well, “We don’t know that he doesn’t speak Elvish,
my friend! I think the worst thing you can do to get back at him is to
ignore him.”

“Indeed!” Indranil replies.

Meanwhile, Lady Rain and I need to confer…”

After Fingol hears Drago’s suggestion for the negotiations, He
whispers to Lady Rain in Amedi (out of earshot of the captives).

After that Fingol calls to Ulmar. “Ulmar, would you confer with Lady
Rain and I? There are some questions we must ask.”

Fingol pulls everyone together to discuss next steps:
“OK, we all have ideas for what we should do next, I’m sure.

My first thought was to try to negotiate for the release of Saeva and Ulpu’s son. My thinking is, that if we can negotiate for them quickly, it’s possible that anyone that needs to be evacuated could be sent to Melkot with our friends the dwarves.

I have heard the suggestion for a raid as part of the negotiation. I dislike this for several reasons. First, it is treacherous. While some would not see that as a problem, I do. Going to such a strategy first proves that we cannot be trusted. We would not be able to negotiate with the deathwalkers at all after that, and we would have enemies on all fronts instead of a possible shield for our further raids against Stronghoen. Second, the raid may free Saeva, but it leaves Ulpu’s son in the deathwalker hands. Ulpu has given us a great deal of help, and we should at least attempt to repay that.

Rain will be negotiating for us. Our strategy is that she will insist on the prisoner exchange first, and if that is refused (which is likely) she will offer an alliance. Hopefully Tavasmok is desperate enough for allies that he will accept our help. I would think that after the losses he’s suffered, he would be.

If the negotiations fail, I do not want anyone attacking the deathwalkers or Tavasmok. I consider Tavasmok too dangerous for us to take on. We also need him to be an obstacle to Stronghoen sending out his army. If Tavasmok attacks our first goal is escape. Throw tanglefoot bags and thunderstones and the Obscuring Mist potion, so he cannot chase us or use his spells then we run.”

Drago bobs his head while listening. “I like it. May I join Lady Rain for the negotiations? I would like the lizardfolk to join such a secret alliance; plus I am dangerous even when I am unarmed for her protection, milords. At the very least, if I become chief shaman today, I can promise that Thracian humans will no longer be used by the lizardfolk for non-feedstock purposes and that I will explore other food sources locally, if they work with us… and if I live to see another day. If you don’t want me to join her… then the status quo is fine with me.” Drago flicks his left wrist and smiles.

Rain smiles “Thanks Drago… but I think only I should talk with Tavismok. Less confusion. And to be perfectly honest I just can’t trust what you would say. You have proven only to be very unpredictable.”

Drago smiles, “Yes, milady. Know that I will protect you always.”

Indranil can’t help but smirk at Drago’s comments, “Drago by ‘status quo’ do you mean you will continue to look towards humans as food stock for your nascent kingdom?”

Drago smiles. “One cannot take away their only food source and not be killed by my cousins. Other meat would have to be found. One thing at a time, milords. Of course, Keolanders are not cattle. You are great warriors who make your enemies quake in fear at your approach. You are famed as Great Fighters throughout Thracia’s underworld. Truly.”

After stifling a laugh, Newt says “Drago, you mean that ‘you can promise that Thracian humans will no longer be used for feedstock purposes,’ don’t you? Because otherwise you’re still eating humans, and they won’t react well to that.”

Any sense of laughter leaves Newt’s voice as she continues. “ And while we’re talking about eating sentient beings, I think your people should stop it!”

Drago shrugs, “Meat is meat, sentient or not, but yes, I will endeavor to make it so, Lady Newt.” Drago bobs his head with a smile. “To eat or be eaten, this is the way of the world.”

“You and I will talk later!” says Newt, trying (unsuccessfully) not to get riled up. “Right now Sir Fingol is talking about smaller things than… murder for food” she ends, crossing her arms and turning her attention pointedly back to Fingol.

Aramek, looking distressed, leans over and whispers something to Newt.

Newt nods sharply in agreement with Aramek but says nothing aloud. She keeps her back turned toward Drago and her arms are still tightly crossed.

Fingol: “It sounds as if no one objects to this plan, nor has additional ideas. Let’s move out toward the villa. We will travel under a flag of truce, move to within 100′ or so of the villa and then call for Tavasmok. Lady Rain will then step forward, but not further than 30′ from us and certainly no closer than 30′ to Tavasmok. Then we’ll see how the negotiations fare.”

Evening in the Arena, Readying 20, 591

I suppose I should start from Melkot. That way Drago can get caught up with all the events; at least as I remember them and from my point of view…

My errand to Melkot was happy and unhappy. Drago must be wondering where our friends the dwarves and Father Adalwulff come into this tale. They were recruited there, and they have figured large in our successes.

Sir Aramek and Father Wat accompanied me to Melkot. We stayed at an Inn outside the city because I wanted to learn more of the town before presenting myself as a representative of Prince Prospero. While staying at the inn, we had the good fortune to meet a priest of Fharlanghn, Brother Cerball. He set up a meeting between myself and the governor of Melkot.

At that meeting we warned the Mayor of the danger Thracia might pose to Melkot. It was at that meeting, I first met Grim and Morgrym. They were the mayor’s guards. Unfortunately, we also met Serlo, Mayor Weibex’s advisor. It was he who conspired with an evil cult to kill Father Wat. The same assassins would have killed Sir Aramek and I, had Father Adalwulf not stepped in to save us.

The mayor then offered us support in our quest to end the danger Melkot poses. He gave us a generous sum of gold to buy magic which might prove helpful to us. We also gained the help of Father Adalwulf and Grim and Morgrym with their kinsmen, though they cannot stay beyond first light this morning.

We returned to Thracia and found our friends again. In our absence they had scouted a large portion of the city and learned a bit of it’s situation. I also learned that a falling out between Sir Indranil and Drago resulted in Drago’s expulsion from the squad. I am glad to have you back.

Now, let’s see… what happened next. So much has happened it seems like a month or more has passed.

I suppose the next major event was the fight in the Wight House. We were pretty hard pressed by a troop of gnolls, but in the end we prevailed. Sir Aramek proved to be quite proficient with his wand of Scorching Rays, and Sir Indranil dispatched a powerful leader of the gnoll clan.

It was after that, Sir Indranil decided we should pursue the gnolls up the cliffs to their village. We had another tough fight on our hands there too. I am glossing over a list of heroic deeds by all hands of course, but I am concerned with taking too much time. Still, it’s thrilling to recall Lady Rain’s heroics to open the gate, the charge of the dwarves and Indranil’s capable sniping which kept us from being stopped by the gnoll’s own archers. I’m sure we’ll all have a great time embellishing the stories in the coming days.

In any case, it was after this fight that we found ourselves with four deathwalkers captured and enslaved by the gnolls. Sir Indranil and I and Father Adalwulff differed on how to proceed with questioning them. This resulted in a major disagreement between Sir Indranil and Father Adalwulff, and they fought a duel. Fortunately for all, it was not to the death and Father Adalwulff showed both wisdom and mercy. However, it was after these events that Sir Indranil relinquished command to me.

Following that I asked Lady Rain to interrogate the prisoners. She learned a great deal from one of the women named Ulpu. Ulpu provided us with important intelligence including maps of the deathwalker caverns and warning us about Tavasmok. She also told us that both Adelina’s parents were held in the villa at one point. And while her mother was still in the villa, her father was sent elsewhere. We were left to assume and to hope that this meant he could be found in the deathwalker caverns. While discussing these plans, Sir Indranil and I differed on certain key choices. He decided to leave for the boat immediately.

Following our interrogation, we decided to launch a bold plan of raiding the deathwalker caverns in hopes of finding Adelina’s father. Then attacking the relief column of deathwalkers, when they marched through the city to the caverns. We hoped to make these attacks look like gnoll-work. And if Tavasmok took the bait, we would raid the villa in hopes of finding Adelina’s mother.

The events of that raid were quite different than planned, but resulted in our being found by Drago, Ulmar and Sir Indranil. So, all’s well that ends well, I suppose.

Following Fingol’s story, he passes his spyglass over to Sir Lorindel. “You’ve keen eyes. Keep watch for Tavasmok for us, while Lady Rain and I confer.”

Fin then turns to Lady Rain, “May I ask you to walk with me a while?”

They walk around the upper perimeter of the arena in as much as the ruins allow and engage in a quiet discussion. Upon returning, Fin turns to Father Adawulff “Good priest, You seem ready to endorse this idea of eliminating the deathwalker priesthood and taking over the deathwalker rank and file as a check to the beastmen. Have you thought through this idea? We are here with light provisions and will need to leave this place from time to time for fresh supplies. What happens to the check on the beastmen then? Do you think that a few guards is what is stopping the gnoll army? Or is it Tavasmok? I think eliminating him is far more destabilizing than anything we have done thus far.”

“As a priest of Pholtus I recognize that those aligned with Law can be
trusted to a certain extent, and though they may have evil ambitions
they also want stability and not wanton destruction. We might be able
to form a temporary alliance with Tavasmok if it is impossible to get
rid of him. Perhaps we can exchange hostages,” he glances at the
Deathwalker captives, “Saeva, and Ulpu’s family, for at least Jaana
and the two men. I will not condone giving up or betraying Ulpu
however, as she has come to the Light of Pholtus. Anyway, if we can
exchange hostages and form a temporary alliance to fight the Chaos and Evil of King Stronghoen then I think Pholtus will not be displeased.
But I will say that under no circumstances must we directly be
involved in any evildoing or the condoning of evildoing. If we can
make a deal with Tavasmok without tainting ourselves we might be able to get back Saeva without violence, and then together with them defeat King Stronghoen. But both we and they must understand that after the temporary alliance is over we will again be enemies. So we should be careful of the terms of the agreement so that we can make sure that we are clear of them when the fight against the beast-men is over.”

Drago’s Tale of Readying 18 to 20, 591

Looking around the group as he gathers his thoughts, Drago begins, “Please, no questions until after I finish my tale. However, my story is one of Chaos, a tale of both Good and Evil. I would therefore like to ask that those of you who can, to cast your spells now to discern the truth of my words. Open your mind and all perceptive skills you may have at your disposal. Newt, Ulmar, you may probe my mind deeply as I share.”

After the others have a moment to cast their spells, Drago begins again. “After Sir Indranil banished me from your merry little band three days ago, I went looking for Shaman G’ruk and the other renegade members of the Malarat tribe. I knew they must be around here somewhere. I found them in the swamp near the northeast corner of Thracia.

“The lizardfolk then took me to their encampment below ground. As you now know, their camp is heavily guarded by both lizardfolk and gnolls. The password is, or rather was, ‘We serve the king of the City of Eternal Light,’ although I suspect it has changed by now. Neither humans, elves nor dwarves can hope to make entry easily, even with the password.

“My kinfolk took me to see Shaman G’ruk, as I hoped. He is one crazy egg of a lizard. He’s become fat and comfortable in his power. His followers believe he is very powerful, that he is able to cast all clerical and arcane spells in the multiverse. I don’t know if that is true or not, although by this morning, I earned his full trust.

“Anyway, last night when we were feasting on Deathwalkers (humans are their food source) I learned more about their make-up. I was told they have been sending messengers out to all the lizard tribes in the swamps, to gather all those who have a like mind, lizards like themselves who want to destroy all of humanity.

“Chief Rahk and the other elders of my tribe of course strongly oppose such tactics. This is why Rahk sent me here to kill G’ruk, if the renegade fails to see the light of reason. Right now, there are about sixty lizardfolk in Thracia, although last I heard, most of them are guards down in Huvat Vex. Only a couple dozen are generally at their camp at any given time. A few more lizards arrive every day to join the revolution.”

Drago pauses, licks his lips, and considers his next words. “As you learned today, G’ruk seeks to awaken the legendary Immortal King, he who ruled Huvat Vex in the time before your Mammalian Hordes swept across the world, in the time when Reptiles still ruled the world. He believes that he sleeps somewhere below Huvat Vex, or perhaps elsewhere else below Thracia.” Drago shrugs. “I don’t know if it is true, but the other elders in my tribe do not believe in such tales. However, G’ruk claims to receive visions from the sleeping King.”

“Anyway, I also learned last night that because I descend from Kopep the copper dragon, I am G’ruk’s defacto heir as tribal shaman of the Malarat. It is the way of my people. Even so, the only way the other renegades are likely to follow me upon G’ruk’s death will be if I begin having visions of the Immortal King or find other clues as to his whereabouts.

“So, this morning G’ruk sent me on a mission upriver from their camp to find clues to the Immortal King along with some other lizards.” Looking to Newt, “The three who were with G’ruk, Newt. We didn’t find any clues, but we found some great treasure and fought an ancient beast. I don’t know what it was, but it had many razor sharp tendrils, with an eye on the end of each tendril. I received a gem encrusted magical shield and long sword as my reward for saving their lives.

“After we got back to camp, due to the trust I had earned, I was given a personal tour of the City of Eternal Light, Huvat Vex. The entrance to it is just like the ancient tomes described, the ones we found in the mound shrines in the swamp. It is below the temple of Zeus, I think his name is, but in the temple of some other unknown Goddess. There is a teleportation device that brings you there when you step on it! But again, it is very well guarded by gnolls.

“Huvat Vex is grand and beautiful. There is a giant crystal in the roof of the cavern that lights it with a bluish hue all the time. There are ponds and orchards with giant strawberries on them, all inhabited by dryads. There are four large ziggurats, each a different color, and an ancient palace where the king of Thracia lives. There are many powerful guardians everywhere one turns, including a huge five headed hydra that guards the palace.

“When we were in the palace throne room, there was quite a commotion. Evidently, they were very upset that you found, killed and ransacked the gnoll village above the cliffs. They were especially upset that you killed their women and children.” Drago chuckles. “King Stronghoen killed the gnoll leader of the tribe by twisting off his head for his failure to kill you as you climbed the cliff. Oh, by the way, King Stronghoen is a nine foot tall minotaur with terrifying arcane powers. He kind of liked me, though, because I refused to cower to his fearsomeness like everyone else.” Drago looks at Indranil and smiles toothily. “The minotaurs have ruled Thracia and Huvat Vex for a thousand years, since the beast-men threw off the yoke of their former masters, the humans who built most of the city.

“Anyway, and perhaps most importantly, because of your success in the battle against the gnolls, Stronghoen is now calling upon all the tribes of beast-men to come to Thracia to annihilate you and the Deathwalkers. Once they complete that task, they plan to wipe out all dregs of humanity from the swamps and the rest of the world like a great wave of angry beasts. In this one regard, G’ruk and Stronghoen are in complete agreement.

“However, I threw my own wrench into the works.” Drago giggles evilly. “I made a secret alliance with the King when we were alone together. Since I don’t believe I can yet kill G’ruk in a fair fight, I told Stronghoen the truth of G’ruk’s plans to break their alliance and kill the beast-men once they find the Immortal King, setting the gnolls, minotaurs and other scary monsters against the lizardfolk. Stronghoen and I made a secret pact, that he would lead the beast-men and I would lead the lizardfolk in our quest to kill all humans. Of course, I would never do such a thing… I only want G’ruk dead and the other lizards to see the beneficial light of peaceful inter-species relations, at Chief Rahk’s direction. If I am right about the Immortal King’s identity, he could be the key to wiping out all evil in this gods forsaken city. If G’ruk is right, we are all doomed.”

“Anyway, when I told Stronghoen about the Immortal King, he seemed very surprised. I don’t think he knew about the legend. He does now.” Drago giggles again. “When I told him about my belief about my relation to the Immortal King, he began to realize that if my story is real, then I am the true heir to his throne. Things began to go badly then, but our alliance didn’t fall apart. As long as he believed that he could control me, that my allegiance was to him alone, he didn’t kill me. He almost strangled me, but he didn’t kill me.” Drago smiles toothily as he rubs his neck.

“So… that is when His Majest took me on a personal ‘tour’ of the level below Huvat Vex, perhaps the lowest level, or almost. He has expressly forbidden everyone, even his own people, from going down there. However, he has guards posted here and there, and scary monsters roam around looking for food. He didn’t throw me into the dungeon, per se, it was more of an ancient corral for an unused arena, it might even have special quarters for minotaurs, much older than the arena on the surface. Minotaurs live there, even cows and calves. He left my door open too, almost daring me to try to escape, which would have been a very foolish thing to do, to wander around down there alone, blind in the darkness, with manticores and who know what else looking for a tasty meal.

“When Stronghoen left me, he said he was going to go test G’ruk’s supposed ‘great powers’ and would return shortly to begin my arcane training under his tutelage. So, yes, for a short time today, this dragon became the Dark Lord’s disciple. I am guessing that the only reason G’ruk finally moved his fat lazy ass out of his tent is because His Majest is after his ass. Thus G’ruk’s profound hatred for me.” Drago giggles again.

“So, Sir Fingol, as you can now see, Thracia did not devour me. I, as your spy, devoured Thracia and established myself as the leadership heir to our enemies, for when the time is right. Chaos between the factions follow in my wake.

“This is why I say we should let G’ruk be for now. The beast-men and lizardfolk will soon be at each other’s throat, at my doing. Therefore, I believe our next task should be to rescue Newt’s mother, who is locked up below the Deathwalker villa. Ulmar knows the way.

“Anyway, a few hours ago Bitterbark, Stronghoen’s dog faced major-domo, showed up to question me in the corrals. I quickly realized his true identity. He was overjoyed that I knew who he was because it meant that Newt must be in Thracia.

Looking directly at Newt now, “I never talked about you to anybody, Newt, not even your father. He figured it out by my reaction to him. Further, neither G’ruk nor Stronghoen have any clue about you, or your father, if I am not mistaken. I’ll let him tell his own tale though.

“Anyway, that is when Bitterbark-Ulmar helped me to escape, changing our shapes as we crossed the city, so we could warn you about the impending gathering tribes of beast-men and to find Newt. Doing so caused me to lose my alliances with both factions. I am now enemy #1 in all of Thracia, all because I decided that you deserve to live after all, even at the risk of my own life.” Finally, Drago ends his tale in silence, looking from one face to another with a smirk on his face.

Adalwulf’s face has increasingly darkened the longer Drago spoke. As Drago finishes he ruefully mutters, “I think I am beginning to see that my suspicions of allegiance to Chaos were misdirected.” He then forces himself to be silent to hear the others speak.

Fingol scans the city through his spyglass for a few minutes.

Ulmar comments, “The city of Huvat Vex predates this human city,” he
gestures to the surface ruins. “From what I have been able to gather,
Huvat Vex was the city of the ancient lizardfolk when they were ruled
by the Immortal King. Drago, I know you think the Immortal King is the
copper dragon Kopep, but I have to say that I have seen no indication
of any dragons, copper or otherwise, in, near, or under Thracia. In
any case, Kopep could only be hundreds of years old, but Shaman G’ruk
believes that the Immortal King may be thousands of years old. I
certainly want to rescue Saeva as quickly as may be, but I fear what
will happen if Shaman G’ruk should discover and awaken the Immortal
King.”

Adalwulf says, “Whatever we do, I must tell you all that I have very
few spells left, and those would not be of much use if we are to go
into combat again, whether against Patriarch Tavasmok or Shaman G’ruk.”

“I have faith that the awakening of the Immortal King will turn this land of chaos into one for good, rather than evil. So, yes, I have faith in the sound of the music of dragon’s blood in my veins. Thus I now seek the Immortal King. We each have a place in the revolution, don’t you think? Will G’ruk or Drago be proven the bigger madman?” Drago smiles.

Drago responds to Ulmar, “Yes, those are the prophecies of the mad
lizardman G’ruk, Master Ulmar. While I cannot claim to have visions of
the Immortal King like Elder G’ruk, the blood of dragons within me
seems to sing a song of faith, ‘I am here, I am here. No one knows
where, but I am here. Find me.’

“I agree, Master Ulmar, I found no sign of dragons. But I don’t buy
G’ruk’s refutation about his age. Kopep may or may not be the immortal
king, but we may be his grandchildren. When Kopep lived with my
people, he was in the form of a copper scaled lizardfolk and he bred
with my people. He could have been any age. How would one know, but
for the dreams of a mad lizardman? Anyway, it is said Kopep came from
around here, maybe from the Tors.

“I have faith that the awakening of the Immortal King will turn this
land of chaos into one for good, rather than evil. So, yes, I have
faith in the sound of the music of dragon’s blood in my veins. Thus I
now seek the Immortal King. We each have a place in the revolution,
don’t you think? Will G’ruk or Drago be proven the bigger
lizardmadman?” Drago smiles.

“I want to believe that, so we can watch for an opening to attack the villa and free Newt’s mother.

“But as much as I want to believe that, there is too much at stake to ignore the possibility that the Immortal King may be the leader the beastmen need to unite them against humanity. If that were to happen, the Great Druidess’s vision could become a reality. And frankly, without such a leader, I don’t see the beast-men rising above their factionalism.

“Ulmer, you said you thought Drago was mistaken. Could you elaborate on why?”

Fingol turns from scanning the city. “Drago, your tale is amazing. I
commend you for your resourcefulness. Please don’t take my abundance
of caution as an insult, or that I think you insincere. I believe you
are quite sincere, but you could be sincerely mistaken when you say
G’ruk is not an immediate threat. I want to believe that, so we can
watch for an opening to attack the villa and free Newt’s mother. But
as much as I want to believe that, there is too much at stake to
ignore the possibility that the Immortal King may be the leader the
beastmen need to unite them against humanity. If that were to happen,
the Great Druidess’s vision could become a reality. And frankly,
without such a leader, I don’t see the beastmen rising above their
factionalism.

“Ulmer, you said you thought Drago was mistaken. Could you elaborate on why?”

Ulmar responds to Fingol, “I did not wish to risk prying into G’ruk’s
thoughts. If he detected my presense he would have come after me I am
sure. And yet, his dreams are leading him on and, if anything, making
him even more hateful and vicious. I do believe that whatever power is
down there is leading G’ruk, and it is not a good influence on him. I
also have to wonder, though the copper dragon’s are mostly aligned
with the powers of Good, why would one so ancient have been trapped so
long in a place as dire as this? Wouldn’t his kin have freed him in
all this time if that was the case? And there are other types of
dragons as well, those not aligned with Bahamut, the lord of
benevolent dragonkind. There are the children of Tiamat, the mother of
evil dragons. Whatever is down there is ancient, and I believe it was
locked away for a reason. Don’t G’ruk’s followers themselves quote the
human loremasters who said, ‘That is not dead which can eternal
lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’ Those were not words
meant to give us comfort.”

Indranil replies, “Drago, you have done wonders. I must offer a word of caution. You are new to your powers and the nuances of them. I would caution to rely to heavily on the words of prophecy and vision for those usually are not what they seem on the surface. The powers of magic wil seek to twist the newly initiated to their purposes.”

“Cousin, I agree with you the main threat is the greater one to all of humanity. I also agree whatever has been locked away down there was done so on purpose. And if Grucka… excuse me, G’Ruk, is trying to free it and King Strongoen guard it it is likely no friend of humanity.”

“Although I do think a quick assualt on the villa might be possible to rescue Saevra first. Then we can go after G’Ruk.”

“So this power that has captured G’ruk’s ambitions may not be the Immortal King… or it may… or it may be powerful enough to unite the Beastmen whatever it might be.

“If that’s the case, I can’t help but think we need to stop G’ruk immediately. His meddling may awaken something that is too dangerous to ignore.

“Looking at these maps Drago drew of the second level of the caverns it would appear there is another entrance. (OOC: I am looking at the map titled Level Two Beastmen Cavern)” Fingol points at point at the top left of the page “Here is a stair leading down that ends very near the temple. What we need to know is if that stair leads from the outside. If we can take that, perhaps stop G’ruk before he does any further damage.”

“I can live that plan,” Drago replies to Fin. (Is this the map of the level below Huat Vex, beneath the palace? If so….) That hallway goes back into the palace. One secret on each side of the palace from below, that I saw. I am sure there are many ways down there. I suspect Ulmar will know some other ways. Seava first, then G’ruk. Agreed.”

Newt asks “Drago, how did you recognize my father? Before he said anything about me, I mean.”

Drago ponders a moment, then tells the tale in the third person.

“My, but gnolls and minotaurs certainly are stirred up, aren’t they?” asks the major-domo Bitterbark as he steps into Drago’s cell several long tedious hours later. “Let us chat for a little bit. I am curious to hear your tale.”

Drago blinks, stretches, and asks, “How so, milord?”

“I am curious as to what could have led the Keolanders they say you traveled with back to Thracia. Did you find a map or did someone lead you back here? Was it one of your former comrades perhaps?”

Drago nods, then replies, “The Keolanders found an ancient manuscript in a Deathwalker shrine in the swamps. Their clerics were able to translate enough of it to lead us here.”

“Is that so? There wasn’t a young girl with you from Cypress Hill?”

Drago gasps softly. He pauses, cocks his head, looks Bitterbark in the eyes and says softly, “Are you both safe?”

Bitterbark’s eyes widen. He puts his paw to his snout to shush Drago. Then he whispers, “So you know. Thanks the gods, our little one is safe; but maybe not for long. The gnolls and the lizardfolk are hunting them down as we speak. We must both get out of here at once if we are to save your friends. Gather your gear and come with me. I am Ulmar, the father of Newt. Her mother Saeva is still being held by the Deathwalkers in their villa. We can talk later, for now we must get out and quietly.”

Drago silently smiles toothily as he quietly gathers his gear and follows Ulmar as instructed. Drago is giddy with happiness. He slobbers absentmindedly. Newt will be so happy!

Newt ponders what she has heard carefully before saying “No one really knows who or what the Immortal King is, right? It could be Drago’s ancestor, or it could be some all-powerful force of evil? Drago, I feel terrible saying after you’ve helped me so much to find my family, but finding the Immortal King isn’t something we should risk. We should look elsewhere for your ancestor, and leave this thing to slumber in its cavern until those with power enough can destroy it.”

“Perhaps, perhaps so,” replies Drago. Looking around at everyone now, “However, I hope you all realize that if we kill G’ruk tomorrow, I will need to leave you for a time, to establish my dominance with the renegades. I may live or I may die, but it is my destiny to try. Perhaps Ulmar will consent to join me as my 2nd in command to assist in the conquest of their mind. He has a life established there as well. If the Immortal King turns into an evil reptile after all, we will have His Majest’s armies at our disposal to take it down.

Fingol shows a momentary look of surprise at Drago’s plans. “Remember that we will be reporting back to Westkeep, and so to Chief Rahk, regarding our actions here.”

Drago replies, “Thank you, Sir Fingol. Please do report to Chief Rahk on your return. I, of course, will not be leaving. This is the city of my ancestors. The blood of dragons simmers in my blood. I must follow its scent. Uh, uh, are you leaving soon? I have completely lost track of time.”

“Oh, and if we succeed, please tell Rahk about G’ruk’s death scene in detail. He will enjoy it.” Drago smiles.

Fingol shows a momentary look of surprise at Drago’s plans. “Remember that we will be reporting back to Westkeep, and so to Chief Rahk, regarding our actions here.”

Adalwfulf’s face has increasingly darkened the longer Drago spoke. As Drago finishes he ruefully mutters, “I think I am beginning to see that my suspicions of allegiance to Chaos were misdirected.” He then forces himself to be silent to hear the others speak.

Ulmar comments, “The city of Huvat Vex predates this human city,” he
gestures to the surface ruins. “From what I have been able to gather,
Huvat Vex was the city of the ancient lizardfolk when they were ruled
by the Immortal King. Drago, I know you think the Immortal King is the
copper dragon Kopep, but I have to say that I have seen no indication
of any dragons, copper or otherwise, in, near, or under Thracia. In
any case, Kopep could only be hundreds of years old, but Shaman G’ruk believes that the Immortal King may be thousands of years old. I
certainly want to rescue Saeva as quickly as may be, but I fear what
will happen if Shaman G’ruk should discover and awaken the Immortal
King.”

Adalwulf says, “Whatever we do, I must tell you all that I have very
few spells left, and those would not be of much use if we are to go
into combat again, whether against Patriarch Tavasmok or Shaman G’ruk.”

Ulmar responds to Fingol, “I did not wish to risk prying into G’ruk’s
thoughts. If he detected my presense he would have come after me I am sure. And yet, his dreams are leading him on and, if anything, making him even more hateful and vicious. I do believe that whatever power is down there is leading G’ruk, and it is not a good influence on him. I also have to wonder, though the copper dragon’s are mostly aligned with the powers of Good, why would one so ancient have been trapped so long in a place as dire as this? Wouldn’t his kin have freed him in all this time if that was the case? And there are other types of dragons as well, those not aligned with Bahamut, the lord of
benevolent dragon kind. There are the children of Tiamat, the mother of evil dragons. Whatever is down there is ancient, and I believe it was
locked away for a reason. Don’t G’ruk’s followers themselves quote the
human lore masters who said, ‘That is not dead which can eternal
lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’ Those were not words
meant to give us comfort.”

Indranil replies, “Drago, you have done wonders. I must offer a word of caution. You are new to your powers and the nuances of them. I would caution to rely to heavily on the words of prophecy and vision for those usually are not what they seem on the surface. The powers of magic will seek to twist the newly initiated to their purposes.

“Cousin, I agree with you the main threat is the greater one to all of humanity. I also agree whatever has been locked away down there was done so on purpose. And if Grucka… excuse me, G’Ruk, is trying to free it and King Strongoen guard it it is likely no friend of humanity.

“Although I do think a quick assualt on the villa might be possible to rescue Saevra first. Then we can go after G’Ruk.”

Newt changes subject, “Oh yes. I see. It was when he asked about a young girl that must have tipped you off” observes Newt.

“I’d like to know more about your personal goals. They seem to be coloring your judgment regarding the Immortal King. Is this your last, final clue to finding your ancestor? The consequences of contacting this being could be so dire—I think you should only attempt contact with the Immortal King after you have tried everything, everything else first.”

Adalwulf interrupts, “Pardon me Newt, Fingol, Drago, but I would like to say something. I must remind you all that until I rest, I will not be fit to channel anymore divine energies nor will I be able to use divine spellcraft. Therefore, I will have no chance of overcoming an enemy cleric. I am not even sure I am a fit enough vessel for the light of Pholtus to have a chance of overcoming Tavasmok on my own even fully rested. However, if we must confront him tonight, our only chance is to get his holy symbol away from him as soon as possible. Back there,” he gestures to the squat building, “Indranil, Grim, and I overcame two Deathwalker priests through teamwork, and because I was able to disarm the last priest of his holy symbol and stop him from killing us with the emanation of the deadly forces of the Negative Material Plane.”

“Also, and I am sure you will be surprised to hear me say this, “I agree with Drago, though I will honestly say that I do not fully trust him. The Deathwalker rank and file may not themselves be totally given over to evil. If their priests were eliminated we might be able to win them over to the light. In any case, I do not believe they are aligned with Chaos. They seem to be Lawful, and only as far as that goes may be fit temporary allies against the Chaos and for the moment greater evil of King Stronghoen and Shaman G’ruk.”

Newt says with a sigh “I don’t like it, but I agree that the rescue will have to wait until tomorrow. It may have been necessary, but it’s too bad the Deathwalkers were put on alert.”

With a sidelong glance at Drago and smiling wryly, Newt adds “And don’t feel bad about distrusting Drago. I think I’m the only person here who does.” Newt jabs Drago’s ribs with her elbow as she says this.

Twilight, Readying 20, 591

Newt, with Drago in tow, swims back into view of Fingol and the others
as they are contemplating how to cross the river.

Drago sees that they are on the opposite bank of the lizardfolk
enclave. The bonfire lights up the area dimly or not at all on this
bank of the river. The lizardfolk are cowering behind their hide tents
on the others side and he sees at least three dead lizardfolk with
arrows in them and many javelins stuck in the sand on this side.

For their part, Fingol, Lorindel, Rain, and Aramek see that Drago no
longer has his bandolier but is bearing a finely made sword and a
shield decorated with silver and platinum tracery along with inlaid
carnelians.

Now in the better light, Drago sees that Newt has a greenish tinge to her hair and a bluish tint to her complexion, pointed ears, webbed hands and feet (she must have slipped off her boots), almond eyes and more angular features.

“Drago!” Fingol gasps “Newt had said she heard you were about, but I never really expected to see you alive. When Sir Indranil banished you, I thought Thracia would be your undoing. Instead, you seem to have profited.”

“Look what followed me home! Can I keep him?” jokes Newt as she approaches Fingol and the others.

Speaking quickly, with great excitement, Newt spits out the following with scarecely a breath taken one she starts. “There’s a bridge downstream, but there’s a crabby albino giant on it. Ten feet tall and he doesn’t like all the noise we’re making.

“Indranil is up above us with Aatu, and they have my father with them! But they are under attack by giant bats. They’ve slain one–big as an ox. I’m not kidding–but probably need our help.

“Drago may know more about this Immortal King, but he says we don’t have to chase down G’ruk right now.” Finally she takes a breath.

Drago nods while Newt speaks, admiring her colorful form.

Then he bows deeply to Fingol and the others in fellowship, “Don’t give up hope yet. The night is young. By returning to you, I have become Enemy #1 to your enemies. It would seem that only Sir Indranil no longer wants me dead. We have made our peace.”

Fingol listens to all this breathless whirlwind, “Well, what do we need to do right now? It sounds like Sir Indranil could use some help. Can you show us the way, and we’ll save the conversation until he… and the dwarves are safe?”

When Aramek sees Drago he breaks into a big grin and says, “By all the gods and goddesses, I am very happy to see you alive.! Welcome back!” And even Snoop, picking up on his friends joy, squeaks happily.

Offering a deep bow, Drago replies simply, “Greetings, Master.”

Rain smiles big and puts her arm around Drago’s scaly shoulder and says simply “It is so good to see you”.

Lorindel approaches Drago and clasps him in a firm handshake and offers a quick nod to welcome him back.

“Then someone lead us back to him,” Fin pleads, “so that we can all be reunited.”

“Yes, let’s go get Indranil so we are at full strength.”

Newt replies, “I’ve been worried for the dwarves, too.

“I don’t know the way up. Drago, how can we get back up there?”

Looking to Newt, Drago replies, “I only know the way through the lizardfolk camp, but that is too dangerous and would take too long. It would probably be best to have everyone float down river (to avoid the darkmantles) and then climb the rope you described. Can we miss the giant that way?”

“The rope is upstream, but the climb up will be very challenging. We’d have to climb hand over hand as there is no wall to brace against.”

“If we have to cross the river, than Rain had a good plan. Is that the way you know Drago?”

Drago says to everyone, “Gather around. Here’s what we face.” He then draws the tunnels as he remembers them. “If we cross the river here at the lizardfolk camp, we will have to fight the lizards directly and then pass through a room guarded by gnolls. I know the password but they have probably changed it by now, and besides they would see you and then we would be trapped like mice on two sides. There are more gnolls stationed in the temple. I don’t know how many, but that is the entrance to Huvat Vex, so probably there are quite a few. Anyway, we don’t need to go that way. Instead we head up the long stairway, turn right, and head out. There is another gnoll guard post along the way, but we don’t have to go through that room, although they will probably see us. There will be more gnoll guards at the entrance to the surface too.

“This path would be very dangerous, but I have another idea. Newt saw G’ruk enter a secret door in the cliff next to the river in the Deathwalker Cavern. If I am not mistaken, that should come out somewhere along the west wall here. If we are lucky, we will be able to avoid the first gnoll guard post completely and avoid detection until we are almost out. The choice is yours.” Drago looks around at the others.

“I like the idea of using the secret door, though, but we still need to get everyone across the river. What was Rain’s idea for that? I missed it.”

Rain says “Um Drago… where is Indranil?”

“Yes!” Fin jumps in “We can’t leave without him.”

Last I saw, Indranil still hadn’t crossed the first bridge. So if you have no other plan on how to escape, once we get out, we may still have to battle gnolls, minotaurs, lizards, and the Deathwalker army as we cross back to the Deathwalker Cavern and try to get back in the locked door which is guarded by the dwarves and Father Adulwulf.” Drago shrugs. “No problemo, Newt’s father and I did it.” Drago smiles again.

Speaking of, the fellowship then hears faintly, echoing from above and downstream: “Aatu with me! Attack!” Indranil shouts.

A little while later, even fainter, you hear Indranil shout the following as a battle cry, “Vandria!”

Then you hear, also faint, the sound of Adalwulf intoning, “Om!”

And of course the far-off clash of arms that must be coming from one of the tunnels leading into the chasm, perhaps the one connected to the stairs up to the chamber the dwarves for holding.

Frustrated, Fin replies, “I don’t follow you at all. What locked door are you referring to? None of your explanations explain anything. If you know how to get to Indranil, please say so plainly. Tell us if we need to cross the river or not. Tell us if we have to climb up to the ground level or not. Tell us what direction we need to go to do any of those things!”

Drago pauses and looks at Fin, “No, I don’t know how to get to Indranil, except through the lizardfolk camp and three growing armies that want to kill us. The locked door I referred to is the entrance to the building above the Deathwalker Cavern. At least that’s what the locals it. You sent Adalwulf back to help guard it. When one enters the building, you go down stairs. Then there are two bridges, one that crosses the chasm and the other goes off to the right where you have not yet explored, off the center of the first bridge. I was on the bridge to the right fighting a Deathwalker when the giant bats attacked me, causing the bridge to break. It is now hanging 20′ from the ground, if we can get to it to climb up. Indranil and the others have not yet crossed either bridge, last I saw.”

Rain says “It sounds like our options are to climb back up the rope we just climbed down, or to follow this river southwest and around the corner to some unknown location to try and reach Indi that way.”

Drago nods and says, “Yes, that’s the other option. Newt, do you have anything to add?”

“So Drago, is there a way to get back up to where Indi and the others are if we continue downstream in the river?”

Drago shrugs, “I don’t know. Only Newt knows that. Newt?”

“I don’t think climbing the rope is an option for me,” says Lorindel. “I’d never make it to the top, or at least have a difficult time doing so. I think the best bet is to get to where the bridge has fallen. It’s a shorter climb to reach what now appears to be a rope ladder.”

Drago nods and says, “We’ll be climbing with Deathwalkers shooting arrows at us and an ox sized bat swooping down on us.”

“I do more before ’9 bells’ than most people do in an entire day,” says Lorindel with a smirk.

“OK,” Fin jumps in, “If I am following all this, our situation is this. Climbing up the rope would put us up on Indranil’s level, but the rope bridges are down. So while we’d be at the right elevation, we’d be on the wrong side of a chasm. So I’m ruling out the rope.

“We need to go downstream and try to make it to that broken rope bridge. However, I am not sure we should climb up it. Instead, we should have him climb down and we’ll all go after G’ruk. Evidently he’s close and Newt says the lizardfolk were talking about him reviving the Immortal King. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds bad. And it may be what the Great Druidess warned us about. I don’t want to leave that to chance.”

“We’ll have to bypass the darkmantles, if that is what attacked me earlier, by making torches. I am sure they won’t like the taste of those. If we can’t, we’ll go through with our weapons held up. They won’t like the taste of those either. I wouldn’t mind seeing one spear itself on the point of my sword.”

Drago shrugs, “Torches are what attracted the giant bats in the first place. Also the lizardfolk won’t walk along the banks of this river because of the darkmantles. If that is your choice, Newt and I will swim along beside you guys where it is safe. Other than that, your plan is okay… but my vote would be to let G’ruk awaken the Immortal King, if he knows where he is, which I seriously doubt. If I am right, Shaman G’ruk and King Stronghoen will be killed and I will pacify the awaken one and… well… I bet my life on it. This is my destiny. The wave of death sweeping across the land will not be the Immortal King. It is the army of beast-men bent upon humanity’s destruction that you should fear. This is why I returned to you. When we have more time, I can tell you the full story.

“If we can’t use torches, then we will hold up weapons as we pass under the darkmantles.” Fin replies “Let’s get going, we’ve spent enough time here.”

Drago nods, silently assenting to the plan and then straps his gear to his back. When he sees that Aramek only has a staff, Drago offers, “Master, you may borrow my new magic sword if you wish. It will be more effective to protect yourself.”

Aramek nods, “Thank you for the offer, my friend, but I know my limits and close in fighting is not my forte. Not even being seen till it’s too late is much more my style.” And Aramek gives a devilish grin. “Besides, you’ll certainly have more need and use for it than I.”

Aramek looks at Fingol. “Sir, Fingol, since my quarterstaff and crossbow will not be very intimidating to the darkmantles, I believe this might be an appropriate time for me to go invisible. What say you?”

“Whatever you think best.” Fingol replies.

“Very well, whenever we begin to run the darkmantle gauntlet, Snoop will duck inside my cloak and I’ll go invisible. Just say the word.”

Drago adds, “Wherever you see stalactites, there are likely darkmantles. They look the same.”

Newt puts her boots in her pack, sure to need them later.

“Sir Fingol,” asks Newt “have you got a grappling hook in that bag of yours? You seem to have everything esle… Anyway, perhaps we could knot a rope (or even make a series of loops), attach it to the hook, then catch that rope bridge that’s dangling. We then climb the rope to the bridge and the bridge up the rest of the way.

Fin replies, “I sure do. Picked it up from the assassins that attacked Prince Prospero. And that is exactly how I intend to get up that rope bridge.”

Just as everyone prepares to make their way, carefully, around the
bend of the river, a voice calls down from the stone bridge overhead.
“Newt! Are you down there!” It is the voice of Ulmar, Newt’s father.

“I’m here! Yes, I’m here!” Newt shouts back joyfully (but without thinking). “Are you okay Father? I can’t see you. We’re trying to get up to your level!”

“Thank the gods you’re alive! Can you climb back up? Where are your
companions? We’re having some problems with the Deathwalkers up here,
but I’m okay at the moment. At least, no one is shooting at me. Hold
on, I’ll come down there.”

Quicker than you would have thought possible, Ulmar clambers down the rope, and all present see that he is a rather large chimpanzee with a shield and short bow slung on his back, a quiver of arrows at his side, and a lizardfolk spiked war club tucked in his belt. He is otherwise dressed only in a lizardfolk loincloth. Then the ape man runs and embraces his sea-elf daughter.

“On any other day, that would seem strange.” Fingol states flatly.

“Ulmar, it is good to see you again!” joins Drago as he smiles happily at their reunion.

Rain smiles but then says “Fin, we really need to get going…”

“Agreed! Sir, it is wonderful you are well. But we are dearly pressed for time. We need to head downstream to our friend. To get through, we have to either swim or hike through an area with monsters that drop from the cave ceiling. Follow us, please.”

Ulmar transforms himself into an aquatic elf and then dives into the river with Newt and Drago. “I’ll chance the river if you don’t mind,” he says to Fingol.

Newt, Drago, and Ulmar begin swimming downriver. As the others begin to enter the darkmantle field, it all goes black as magical darkness descends on the area. Only those with darkvision can see through it.

Once the torches are made and the Dancing Lights spell is cast, Fingol
and the others attempt to move into the field, but they find that the
darkness swallows up Aramek’s dancing lights, and the everburning
torchesonly produce a dim light, though that is enough to allow Fingol
(whose magically enhanced vision is still operative), Aramek, and
Lorindel to see.

Fingol and Lorindel peer into the shadows and up among the stalactites
they see the glimmer of the darkmantle’s red eyes watching them. The
darkmantles appear to be two to four feet long and their camouflaged
hide allows them to blend in with the stalactites they are wrapped
around.

Rain says, “This is stupid! Let’s just run past them already!”

Fingol and Lorindel point them out to Aramek and Rain, the latter
though still can’t see them as it is too dark for her.

Rain says, “This is stupid! Let’s just run past them already!”

Fingol explains, “Now that we can see them, we can shoot them down.
Here, Rain, hold this torch.”

Fingol and Lorindel with their bows, and Aramek with his wand of magic
missiles, then proceed to pick off the darkmantles as they move slowly
through the field of stalatctites and stalacmites, while Rain lights
their way.

Drago is swimming under water with father and daughter, oblivious to what’s happening with the land dwellers. His thoughts are with Newt and Ulmar. By now they have exchanged their stories…. Drago wants to show Newt everything, but not until after he gets to tell his side first. Drago puts up a mental wall against any deep probe until then.

Lorindel picks one off immediately with one well-aimed shot. Fingol
hits another, and then Aramek uses his wand of magic missiles to
strike it as well. Newt and Ulmar come to the edge of the river and
fire their bows at it as well, as does Drago who can now see it in the
dim torchlight once everyone else has begun firing at it. One more
arrow from Fingol brings it down as well. A third falls dead due to
another well placed arrow by Lorindel. Aramek fires another magic
missile at a fourth, and Newt, Ulmar, and Drago loose their arrow at
it as well bringing it down too. Then four of the creatures all drop
away from the stalactites and propel themselves towards those on the
ground using their webbed tentacles like wings. The others dodge, but
Fingol and Aramek are struck and the darkmantles embrace their heads
and shoulders with their hook lined tentacles, using their
considerable strength to constrict about their throats. Fingol
succeeds in tearing the darkmantle off of him, though it leaves bloody
wounds all over his face and neck. Rain drops her torches, draws her
blades, and runs the creature through before it can flap away.
Lorindel, meanwhile, drops his bow and unsheathing his shortsword move in on Aramek and deftly cuts the creature away. It falls dead to the floor. Chittering, the other two fly away off into the darkness of the other side of the river.

Snoop, who had been secure inside Aramek’s cloak furiously, but unsuccessfully, tried to get out so he could he help his fried fight the evil beast attacking him. Once the creature was killed Snoop was out on Aramek’s shoulder alternately licking his wounds and shrieking at the evil fling things.

Aramek thanks Lorindel profusely and then, knowing he’s been injured, pulls out a healing potion.

The river runs on for some distance past the bend in the river. The
gravelly banks continue on both sides. Past the stalactites and
stalacmites is a run down cottage constructed of fieldstone and roofed
with straw thatch. The thatch is moldy and rotting due to the high
humidity caused by the river. The floor of the cavern in this area is
covered with sand. Thrust into the sand in front of the cottage is a
crude spear. Mounted on the protruding spear is a bleached skull of a
lizardman. Various crude and arcane symbols are painted on the brow of the skull. A little ways past that, in the light of the everburning
torches, they can see the end of the rope bridge dangling 20’ over the
river.

From the darkness above, they can hear Indranil shouting down to them, “Drago! Drago! Drago, can you hear me?” An everburning torch on the end of a rop is then lowered down to the river.

“Indranil, it’s me,” calls Lorindel. “Drago is with us. Oh, by the way, pleased to see that you’re not dead.”

“Shut up!” booms a gloomy and very put upon sounding person from the darkness downriver.

Fingol turns to Aramek, “Can you cast Message to him and tell him we are on our way up? I don’t care to yell around here. Someone dislikes the noise.”

Indranil can lower the rope about 40′. He can see that 50′ below the lip of the chasm is an underground river with sandy banks on either side. There seems to be some kind of cottage down there on the bank. Standing nearby is Fingol, Rain, Lorindel, and Aramek. Swimming in the river is Newt, Ulmar (her father who must have found the way down after crossing the chasm), and Drago (who indeed survived being hit with with an arrow, feasted on by two giant bats, and the collapse of the rope bridge and a 50′ fall).

Whispering, Newt suggests “Maybe Sir Indranil can lower a rope, if the grappling hook doesn’t work out.”

She keeps an eye down-river, in case the noise-averse giant should try taking an active role in quieting the neighborhood.

Indranil says, “Well met indeed! And Newt is with you safe! And Drago too! By the Goddesses this is god news. The top is secure for now but I can’t say for how long. It looks like the gnolls and rogue Malarat are now allied. Perhaps you can climb up using this rope or the bridge that has fallen?”

Fingol looks up “Hush! Someone down here doesn’t like noise! We’ll be up in a few.”

Drago casts his message spell and replies to Indranil, “Yes, I am safe, milord. Newt saved me from drowning.”

Fingol looks up from his knot tying, “A Malarat drowning? How embarrassing.”

“I don’t think his soul would survive the embarrassment. That’s why I pulled him out” jokes Newt.

Indranil while he waits upon his friends to climb up draws his rope and torch back up and then stows them in his pack.

He turns to Grim and says, “Grim the fellowship has returned and they are all alive, including Drago who took that horrible fall. They are climbing back up now.”

Indranil replying back through the message spell says, “Drago! I am relieved. When you fell from the bridge with an arrow in your side I was distraught thinking how tragic it was that after finding you I lost you again so soon. I am pleased!” Then with a smile in his reply he continues, “Newt has pulled your tail out of a tight situation twice now! She is truly your guardian angel.”

Dago replies simply. “Yes, indeed, yes, indeed.”

Fingol hooks the fallen bridge and everyone climbs the knotted rope up to the fallen rope bridge and then makes it up to the regular rope bridge and back to the stairwell to the surface side of the rope bridge that is still handing across the chasm.

Newt and Drago just have a bit of stiffness and some light bruises, Adawulf and Fingol are hurting, but Indranil is really hurting (and he’s already been healed several times over by Adalwulf during the fight, so you just guess how much damage he’s taken in the past half hour or so.)

Newt leaves the potions to those who really need them. If there are any left at distribution then she may carry one or two in case Drago needs them again.

Drago says, “I’ll take a few, if you have any extra healing potions. I’m out.”

Kneeling before Fingol, Indranil draws his sword and offering it to Fingol pommel up says, “Sir Fingol something must be said immediately. I acknowledge you as rightful leader of this party without hesitation or reserve and pledge to follow you until death or you release me.”

Fingol coughs, “You have pledged your fealty to the Lion Throne and you serve at the pleasure of Prince Prospero. Swear nothing which takes that which is rightfully theirs. I thank you for acknowledging that this command now rests with me. And while we serve together know that I will protect you with my life also.”

Indranil sheathes his sword and stands giving Fingol another bow. “Sir Fingol, Father Adalwulf is upstairs in the room above. The Deathwalker replacement squad, including the two hooded clerics, were slain by Grim, his warriors, Father Adalwulf and I just before we found each other again. For now things above are quiet. But the gnolls and an unknown band of Malarat are allied and twice now have sought to gain control of the building above and this passage. They were twice driven off by the Deathwalker replacement squad, but with Deathwalkers slain they could reappear and threaten us again at anytime. I know not the disposition of the remaining Deathwalkers but it looks like we have killed two full squads of them between us.”

Fingol reaches out to shake Sir Indranil’s hand “Thank you for coming back to rescue us. For it would appear that is what you’ve done. Let’s get outside before any other band of gods-know-what attack again. I don’t think we need to be in these caverns any longer; we have been rescued and Ulmer found us. That is all we were hoping for here. And Drago has a piece to these mysteries that I would like to hear in length. Depending on what he has to say, we may have more work to do before we rescue the damsel in distress and ride off into the sunset. The world may require more competent heroes than us, but we’re the only ones in shouting distance.”

Newt recalls that Drago had wanted to show something but had stopped. When the fellowship is clear of the darkmantles and back in normal marching order she puts her hand on his shoulder (‘There’s the tough skin again. I remember having skin like that!’ she thinks.) and says just to him “Drago, is now a good time? Did you want to say anything?” She puts a bit of emphasis on the word “say,” to be clear in her meaning.

Drago says simply to the other, “Yes, if you all still want to fight, you need to hear my tale, so that you are not basing your actions upon half truths. I have been your spy in the Underworld living amongst the lizardfolk, and then today spent the day in Huvat Vex. You need to hear my tale. It will only take a few minutes for the most important tactical information. Otherwise, let’s go back to your camp and tell our stories before making decisions.”

“Will you show me now?” asks Newt. “Or tell us. If we follow this up quickly we may surprise the villa and rescue my mother. However, I know much of the decision will depend on how many spells you, Sir Aramek and Father Adalwulf can cast in what’s left of the day.”

Drago replies, “I need to rest to replenish. I am not battle ready. It’s been a long, long day.

As Fingol finishes Newt throws a huge hug around Sir Indranil. “You came back! I’m so happy you did! Thank you thank you thank you! It wasn’t the same without you.” She releases him and drops to her feet, perhaps a bit embarrassed by her display, but too happy to see him to really care about being embarrassed.

Indranil smiles warmly and bending down he kisses the top of Newt’s head and says, “Do not be embarrassed Adelina, I am grateful for your welcome. I too missed you. The goddesses saved me, but it was a narrow thing, I was far gone down the path to darkness. But that tale must wait for fairer times.”

Rain too has a warm smile for Indranil but does not say anything now, the current situation warranting quick action.

“Fingol, we still need to keep in mind the powerful Cleric which we have to assume stile resides in the villa. With most of his warriors dead I am not sure our plan of drawing him out will work now.”

Fingol starts moving toward the exit. “On the contrary, I am hoping that the losses he’s suffered is what does draw him out. After all, he must be running out of minions to waste. And he is going to have to find out what is happening to them all. Given he so easily defeated a gnoll army before, I am sure he’s too arrogant to hide in his Villa. And if what I am hearing about gnoll and Malarat attacks to this building are true, we shouldn’t have to worry about making it look like a gnoll attack. It is one in truth. So let’s just get out of these caverns so we don’t get bottled up again and pull away to a safe distance. We’ll discuss our next moves there.”

“Let’s move then” says Newt. “I think our ambush targets came to us when we were a bit late setting up. We should go somewhere safer and rethink things.

After you, Sir Fingol.”

Rain says “The fight seems to be between the Gnoll/Lizards and Deathwalkers… I would suggest the Arena. We will have the best view and most likely will not be scouted or attacked since they are busy with each other.”

I was thinking of the area of the city indicated on the city map as “fragmented walls/buildings” between the pool and the rotunda. Depending on where exactly we go, it might have a view of both buildings (or neither?).

I’d love to use the rotunda, but I’m SURE there is something nasty living in it.

Rain replies “What if there is something else living there which may take offense to us being there. It may draw attention. Best I think to use a known location. Your call, lets just get going quick.”

“Thank you Lady Rain, I was unaware of what you had and had not scouted while I was in Melkot.” Fingol replies. “The arena it is. We’ll still be close enough to capitalize on any movements the high priest makes.”

“No, I would like you, Sir Indranil, Adelina, Ulmar, Sirs Indranil and Aramek, Father Adalwulf, Drago, Grim and Morgrym to accompany me up to where we can observe the city and confer on our next steps.” Fingol replies

Once every one is up at a point where we can see the Villa, Fingol begins “I know everyone is eager to rest and regroup. But there may be events going on tonight that require swift action.

If the High Priest of these Deathwalkers comes out of the villa to see who destroyed his caverns, that would be our chance to try to free Adelina’s mother. And as much as I would like to make that our first priority, I heard something from Adelina about an Immortal King being awakened. Adelina, tell us what you heard, please. We may have to move immediately if that is some sort of threat.”

In between the hasty planning discussion Indranil slips over to Lorindel and clasps forearms in a warriors handshake saying, “Brother you are a welcome sight. I am pleased to see you alive and well. I have much to tell you. I was visited by the Goddess and taken back to revisit a distant memory with you.”

Before Newt can respond, Adalwulf steps forward and says, “Hold! I
have kept silent until now, because we were in grave danger. But I
would know what manner of beings this Ulmar and his daughter Adelina
actually are? I saw with my own eyes how this one,” he points to
Ulmar, “had been transformed into an ape and then changed back again.
And this one,” he points to Newt who had neglected to change back into
her human form, “is now some kind elf. Are you sorcerers then like Sir
Aramek? Or something else? I do not believe you Evil, but are you…
creatures of Chaos?”

The dwarves nod at this and Grim says, “I would also like to know, for
we saw Drago and Ulmar both change themselves.”

Ulmar says, “Sir Fingol, with your permission, I will endeavor to
explain, for you are all honorable men and woman, that I can see. I
think you deserve the truth, for you have risked your lives many times
now to save ours.”

Fingol nods, “I apologize to our friends for not being forthcoming. My omission was intended to protect your daughter, who kept her secrets a long time before explaining herself. She is a fine person. I think it speaks well of your nature, and that of your wife’s, that you raised such a good person.”

“Please do explain your natures to our friends. For I’m afraid I cannot. And I am not sure if any explanation wouldn’t simply spawn more questions. For my part, I know Adelina can be trusted, more than just that actually, and I am content with that.”

“Well said Cousin. We are known by our deeds not fine words. Adelina has proven herself a loyal companion ten times over.”

That night after dinner, Rain bursts into the barracks screaming, “Assassins! Brotherhood Assassins in the Palace! Protect the Prince!” over and over. She is still dressed in the red cloak and white clothes from the aborted knighting ceremony, but she now has a heavy steel shield in her left hand, and a rapier (not her own) in her right. She is also girt with a dagger and a shortbow and quiver is slung on her back.

Apone and the rest of the squad are awakened by the alarm coming from the palace which began just before Rain burst into the barracks. A very startled Newt wheels around from her place by the window, and nearby resting on an empty cot, one that used to belong to Noch in fact, is Drago. Aramek is nowhere in sight.

“Rain! What’s all this!? How are you out of the dungeons?” barks Sgt. Apone.

Drago jumps out of bed at the noise and immediately assumes a defensive posture in front of Newt. A low hissing growl can be heard from him as he assesses the scene.

Rain immediately goes for her chest and starts pulling out armor, weapons and pouch. She yells “Brotherhood Assassins come up thru the Dungeons, I let myself out and followed them up into the Keep. Get the commander NOW! The Prince is in danger!” (This last part, Rain musters every bit of her command voice.) As she says this she rips off the red cloak and dons her studded leather jacket. She then straps her weapons belts on, yelling “TO ARMS! Brotherhood Assassins in the Keep! Protect the Prince. Get the HELLS UP NOW!”

She double checks by feel that her potions are in their pouch and is ready to bolt back out to the Palace.

Sergeant Apone’s eyes grow wide then he starts barking out orders, “You heard the lady! To arms! Sound the horns of alarm!”

Without another second of hesitation, all the Guard present begin throwing on their armor and strapping on their arms.

At this, Drago looks at Newt, then grunts at her as he motions toward Rain and says, “Let’s go.”

“It’s okay, Drago. Nobody is attacking me,” sighs Newt as she moves around him to get her leather on.

Drago is wearing only his green scales and does not bother with weapons.

While hastily donning her armor Rain yells, “There were assassins and goblins laying wait in the grand foyer, their bolts have drow sleep poison, beware!”

Lowering her voice to a normal pitch she says to Drago “Drago, do you have any protective magic you can spare for me?”

“Protective magic?” Clearly the notion hadn’t occurred to him before as he says, “I don’t think so….”

Rain chuckles at Drago’s response. She says in draconic “Drago, you are with me. Newt stay behind me at all times. Lets go!”

Drago blinks and loudly roars his agreement.

Newt giggles as they go, “But he can whisper sweet nothings in your ear from a long way off! Hehee!”

“Okay, I’ve got your back.” Newt quips, “Gotta keep you alive or we’ll never clear your name at the trial.”

Sir Bodwyn and Commander Gorman, unarmored but with their swords and shields in hand, come running into the room from their officer’s quarters on the upper levels of the barracks. Commander Gorman is clearly startled to see Rain and is about to say something when Sir Bodwyn cuts him off. “No time for that. What the situation Sergeant?”

Sergeant Apone quickly relays to Sir Bodwyn what Rain told him. “That’s good enough for me, we can sort out the details later,” Sir Bodwyn responds. “Guard, to the palace! For the Lion Throne!” he shouts.

Newt jumps up and starts putting on her leather armor, then grabs her weapons. She tries to be fast, but she just looks clumsy compared to Rain.

Through all the chaos, Rain takes two seconds to smile at Newt assuringly.

From inside the palace a voice can be heard crying out, “Just a moment! Just a moment!” They hear the bar being withdrawn and then the double doors swing open to reveal several younger knights and commanding them the bearish form of an older knight with a salt and pepper beard and two pieces of glass on a wire frame perched on his nose. His sword and shield are in hand, but otherwise the knight is dressed only in a nightgown and nightcap. It is Sir Godric, the valiant and noble knight of Heironeous whose cheerful demeanor long ago earned him the sobriquet: the Gay Cavalier.

“Sir Bodwyn, come in quickly! There has been an attack! We are not sure by who or what. The guards in the foyer are dead and we’re already sending patrols through the halls to…”

Bodwyn interrupts him, “It’s the Scarlet Brotherhood, or so I’ve been told. They are trying to get to the Prince again. We’ll head up to his quarters immediately! You continue conducting a sweep of the palace
with the night shift.”

Bodwyn leads the Guard through the grand foyer to the central stairs, splitting the squads so that both stairwells will be covered. “Rain, you come with me, don’t leave my side,” Bodwyn orders. Drago and Newt likewise stick close by Bodwyn and Rain.

Rain does as she is told and sticks close to Sir Bodwyn.

When Bodwyn and the Guard reach the third floor they find, Ragnbjorn, Fingol, Wat, and a knight named Hubard in the hall talking with Sedara at the open door to the Prince’s chambers. The Prince and several of the ladies-in-waiting are safe within.

“It seems a catastrophe has been avoided,” Sedara says to Bodwyn. She looks past him and sees Rain, and for a moment a flood of relief can be seen in her eyes but she covers it up quickly. “Isn’t Rain supposed
to be in the dungeons?”

“She was milady,” respond Bodwyn. “The Scarlet Brotherhood came up through the dungeons somehow. Rain says she got out in order to warn us. Sir Godric has taken charge down below and is having the palace swept to flush out the assassins.

Ragnbjorn says, “Fingol and I took care of four of them, two were goblins actually, on the second floor stairwell. They were coming down from this level. There are four dead guards back that way, two on the third floor and two on the second.

Hubard then speaks up, “Yes, we ran into three human assassins and one goblin also. They blinded Father Wat and I with a flash pellet and disappeared. They were heading back to the first floor, probably to get out through whatever way they used to get in. I am deeply sorry Commander Bodwyn that we were not able to stop them.”

Bodwyn turns to Rain, “There is much we need to speak to you about. You said the assassins came from the dungeons. Can you show us where?”

Rain casually takes out the set of dungeon keys from her pocket and hands them to Bodwyn as she replies in an even tone, “Yes, I can show you exactly where they entered the dungeons. They came by my cell to gloat, being that their leader is my brother Niccolo.”

“I knew it!” Fingol blurts out before he can stop himself, then covers his mouth.

Rain looks over at Fingol and barely smirks. She then takes off her weapons belts and hands them over to Bodwyn as he continues to ask her questions.

“Thank you,” says Bodwyn, “You have saved me the awkwardness of having
to ask.” He hands Rain’s weapons over to Sgt. Apone.

“Where is Niccolo now?” Newt asks. “Did he escape? And what of the knight that brought him to the ceremony?”

“He probably made his way down to the dungeons and outside the keep,” answers Rain.

“Prince Prospero,” Fingol says while bowing, “haven’t we learned enough to know what to do about these charges against Rain? Let her keep her weapons. We have need of her help in making this keep safe again.”

Rain interrupts, “No Sir Fingol, I have not been acquitted yet. This process must complete before I can truly be free in the eyes of the Lion Throne. I am fine, do not worry.” She ends this with a smile directed solely at Fingol.

Father Wat says, “Rain’s shout certainly alerted us to the attack. For that I am thankful.”

“But I think we may be thinking too small: either the Brotherhood sent in Niccolo early to assess the grounds, and we have pushed them back and need to secure the dungeon access… or the Cuthbertians are in on a coup. So outside this palace we will either find the Brotherhood fleeing, or the Cuthbertians ruling the streets and our brethren in trouble out there.”

Father Wat grimaces, “Or maybe I am too paranoid all of a sudden and we just need to secure the dungeon… ”

He sighs, “But I would like to get an update on what is happening outside, and if the Cuthbertians are okay… or not… ”

Fingol responds, “It’s my suspicion that Brother Burne would make a deal with Brotherhood in order to preserve his beloved law & order.” Fingol growls, “He wouldn’t care how many people had to die to save the town. If you are of a mind to venture out, I’ll stand by you. Let’s see how far this villainy reaches.”

Rain adds, “My understanding is that Brother Burne was a stooge in this assault. Regardless of my feelings for the man, I doubt he consciously is in league with the Brotherhood.”

Fingol shrugs clearly unconvinced but not wanting to contradict Rain.

Newt asks, “Why do you think this Burne is not involved? He seems in perfect position to be involved, with a small army of cudgels to enforce his will.” It seems there are some ‘nobles’ for whom Newt doesn’t have a full measure of respect.

Rain lowers her voice directed to Newt, though everyone around can still hear, “Being a complete jerk is one thing. Conspiring with an evil empire against the Lion Throne is quite another.”

Father Wat responds, “True! That is why I would love see the streets to kill of my nagging doubts… I will have to do a lot of work towards forgiveness of the Cuthbertians around here if it is just the Brotherhood we are after.

“Either way we need to keep the Prince safe and secure the dungeons. Sir Ragnbjorn, how shall we proceed?”

Drago wags his tail and nods his head in agreement, but he says nothing as he looks from the Prince to Ragnbjorn.

Well, Newt is not at all convinced, but she can see when she’s outnumbered and outranked. She gives up the argument, but in a bit of a pout, she crosses her arms and remains silent.

In the presence of so many knights and members of the guard, Sedara retreats back into the Prince’s room to rejoin the ladies-in-waiting, who have all put down their knitting needles. The Prince comes forward and says, “Rain, your actions and words fill me with great confidence in you. It is very noble of you to give Brother Burne the benefit of the doubt.”

The Prince turns to Newt, “Brother Burne is not, however, in charge of the knights of St. Cuthbert, nor the Church, nor even the militia. That would be Father Cuthmond. Bodwyn, hurry and let Rain show you where the assassins got in and secure the dungeons. For now, Rain will have to be restored to her cell, but you may leave the door open and provide her with a guard – for her safety. Newt and Drago may stay with her if they wish.”

“Yes, your Highness. Thank you for clarifying.” Newt then remains silent again, but this time due to embarrassment.

The Prince then turns to Ragnbjorn, Fingol, Wat, and Hubard. “The four of you go down to the Church of St. Cuthbert. Ask Sir Godric to send with you as many of his paladins as he can spare from the castle sweep. When you get there, ask to see Father Cuthmond and tell him what has happened. Bring Brother Burne back here. Niccolo is supposed to be there as well, but I suspect he is no longer, but arrest him and bring him back if by any chance he is there. Here take my seal with you. Hurry now!”

Rain nod-bows to Prospero, then begins to lead Bodwyn down to the dungeons and the secret breach.

When Rain returns to the dungeon, Newt goes along. In addition to supporting her friend Rain, Newt is curious to see a real dungeon.

Drago follows Rain and Newt into the dungeons to spend the night. He’s a little nervous at the prospect but tries not to show it.

“Do you think divination spells or other magical detection would help find other tunnels or secret entrances?” Newt seems not to hold on to negative emotion for long. “I think that would be a good idea—searching by those means, all over the keep, top to bottom.”

Newt makes note of the route to the dungeon, still thinking about secret passageways and humming a pleasant little melody as they go.

“Very good thinking,” says Bodwyn as they head back down into the dungeons. “We’ll have the court wizards give the whole place a sweep in the morning. They won’t be able to do it until they’ve had time to prepare their spells, but we’ll let them know to get ready for it.”

In the dungeons they find the two corpses of the guards, and also the corpses of the three goblins with shortbow arrows in them. One of them obviously shot in the back as he was running away from Rain’s cell. All three of the goblins are dressed head to toe in loose fitting dark maroon robes, like the human Scarlet Brotherhood assassins. They each have hand crossbows sized for them, and are girt with shortswords and daggers, also sized appropriately. With their gangling limbs and over sized heads, they would almost be cute if not for their beady red eyes and huge maws filled with needle sharp teeth.

The first two seem to have been shot right in front of Rain’s cell. One has an arrow in both eyes (in one and out the other) and from his position he seems to have been facing the cell. The other has an arrow in his heart and seems to have been facing back down the hall into the shadowy corner that leads deeper into the dungeons. The one shot in the back was running away from the cell in the other direction towards the palace. All three of them had taken off their hoods (the assassin hoods that cover all but their eyes).

A bloody crossbow bolt lays near the cell door. Another bolt will be found down the passage at the turn to the lower depths of the dungeon. Within Rain’s cells are three crossbow bolts. One stuck in the wall at head level by the cot, one on the floor by the cot, and a third stuck in the frame of the cot.

The dead guards back by the entrance were struck with the small bolts and also stabbed with swords (in the back).

Bodwyn surveys the scene and then says to Rain, “When you got out you didn’t by any chance secure a shortbow did you?”

Rain does not hesitate in her reply to Bodwyn and Apone, “The assassins were noticed and followed by a kid I used to run with who knows I am in here. He killed these three goblins who were gaurding me, then I let myself out. As he had been shot by a crossbow I made him leave. He gave me his weapons and I followed the assassins up to raise the alarm.”

At a dead end much farther down in the reaches of the dungeons, Rain reveals the false wall. Beyond it is a cramped tunnel leading down into the town. Bodwyn assigns knights to guard it until they can get some paladins down to lead a more thorough investigation.

“We can’t go charging in there now,” Bodwyn says as he closes the false wall again. “It may be trapped and they might also have an ambush prepared. No use running into that. We’ll send mages and paladins down there as soon as we can and get it secured. Good work Rain. Now, however, I must escort you back… Odric!”

Bodwyn quickly commands Apone and his squad to guard the secret door, then with Rain, Newt, Drago, and a couple of other knights who had come down with them he hustles back up in the passage and stops before another cell door. Within is Odric sitting cross legged on his cot staring at an assassin’s shortsword lying in the middle of his cell. The knights draw their swords as Bodwyn fumbles for the correct key.

Odric looks up and says calmly, “Brother Niccolo’s plans did not go as he wished, but he had the consideration to leave me this blade to salvage my honor. I had truly hoped to find something better among you, but after observing the carnage that you consider justice I see that the Lion Throne is no more than the other side of the same false coin. Farewell to you all.”

Just as Bodwyn finds the key and turns the lock, Odric swiftly reaches out for the blade and then impales himself upon it. The blade sinks into his heart and out of his backside. He sighs out his last breath even as Bodwyn runs to his side.

Newt’s eyes go wide, and for the second time that day she screams and reels back against Drago, her whole body quivering and twitching. Newt is overcome by waves of convulsive sobbing. It will be some
time before she can even speak as she is wracked with sorrow.

Drago catches Newt and lifts her small body into his arms again.

As it dawns on Rain what is about to happen she lunges towards Odric’s cell “No!…”, but it is too late. Stunned that he took his own life it is moments before she realizes what is happening with Newt. Standing next to her, she wraps an arm around Newt’s shoulder in comfort. Quietly she says to nobody “What a waste, if he only knew the truth.”

After a minute she sobers herself and quietly says to Apone “I am ready to go back to my cell now, would you please escort me?”

When Rain is ready, Drago follows her into the cell, lays Newt upon the cot and strokes her forehead. It is quite a sight to watch the back of Drago’s green scaly claws comfort his little pet ape.

Rain sits in a corner of the cell, knees pulled up to her chest and head down against her knees. She is not sleeping, but has not said anything since entering her cell.

After awhile, Sedara comes down to the cell to check on Newt, obviously concerned that for the second time that day Newt had fallen into a swoon.

When Sedara enters, Rain looks up but otherwise does not move.

“I’m sorry…” sobs Newt between gasps for air. “I just can’t help it. It’s so sad. And it’s my fault! I may as well have been the one to thrust that sword into him.

Newt calms herself, focusing on her recent resolution to be able to handle what she’s just been through. “People really can have their lives flash before them, and I saw his (she indicates Odric) right up to its end. All of it.

“When do we leave to find Thracia? Elias told him that he saw my parents before they were taken away. They were worried about me! When can we go help them?

Thinking at the cooling corpse Newt almost breaks into sobs again, but stops herself. “He almost made it. But for seeing the executions and but for me… he might have made friends and had a good life, with love and warmth. His was so cold and sad.” She looks at Sedara as she continues “The Scarlet Brotherhood is evil. They trick their own people, stifling what they could be—and I can’t tell if they truly believe in what they are doing or if they are just preserving their own power. Odric was looking for something better. He thought he may have found it until he saw the executions. We have to stop those or he’s right—we’re no better than the Brotherhood.

A few more sniffs pass, then, “It was Father Wat that started Odric the right way. It was his kindness that made Odric look to Keoland for a better way to live. Good Father Wat. Then I turned everything upside down. I couldn’t see it all, not then. He wasn’t planning treachery. He was only making plans in case we attacked him.” Newt can’t help crying again as she remembers. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know! But I turned us all against him by denouncing him when I didn’t have all the information. And he’s dead because of it. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” Her voice tapers off.

After a few more moments, in a soft, more even voice, Newt asks, “Lady Sedara, what can be done to stop Brotherhood?”

As Newt talks about Odric and the executions, Rain catches Sedara’s eyes with her own which show forming tears and pain.

Sedara sighs heavily. “We have all made very serious errors. It would seem that none of us are without sin, not a one of us,” she says sadly. “Rain, please tell them what I told you about the executions. These lies must end.”

Rain responds, “The executions are only a ruse to cull the people. The Cudgels wanted to bring back old time executions, like we have seen, and the Heironians fought against it wanting more civil punishments for crimes commited. In the end what has been done is that quick and merciful executions are performed in private for crimes deserving those punishments. The more cruel public exections are only illusions. They are a compromise between the Cudgels and Heironians. One I fear has done more damage than was anticipated… as we have seen here.”

Newt recoils at the thought. “Cull people? That’s terrible! Why would that be necessary, as a ruse or otherwise?” Though still recovering from the recent experience, her mood has changed from one of sadness to one more of anger at the unreasonable mistreatment of people.

Rain looks up and sobers a bit. “Sorry Newt, I meant to say lull.” She almost smiles. “While I am sure the Cuthberts would love nothing more, there is no way the Heironians would put up with that. I believe the attempt to be an honest one… but neither group fully thought out the consequences. Groups of Olmans are fleeing the perceived new governmental regime and forming bandit camps outside the city walls. I fear we have created at least as many problems as we were trying to fix.”

Drago thinks about all that wasted meat. Having less humans in the world is not such a bad thing if life in Westkeep is representative of human kind, but he’s still confused. “How can you kill someone in public and call it an illusion,” he says in Keolandish.

Sedara responds, “The arsonists, murderers, and rapists would also face execution even in Keoland, but they would be hung in a way that would instantly snap their necks, so as not to prolong their suffering. The old legal code of the Sea Princes was much more brutal, and the Cuthbertians argued that the people of Westkeep would continue to mistakenly believe that we were too soft unless we reinstituted the old code and restored their fear of the law. As I explained to Rain before, the Heironeans would not put up with that, so the Prince ruled that the following expedient would be used: those prisoners guilty of capital crimes would be executed swiftly and as painlessly as possible, but court illusionists would use their magic to make it appear to the crowds as though a more brutal execution were happening, when actually all that was on stage were the corpses of those already put to death.”

Drago nods his head as he takes in Sedara’s words, then mutters, “Iluziighu,” as he visualizes himself as a dead Olman. Immediately his features change from those of a lizardfolk warrior to those of an Olman covered in blood and bruises, and hideous burns. Drago falls to the ground, looking dead.

“Ew!” Newt crawls farther back on the cot, away from the ‘corpse.’ She’s sure it’s not real but not sure what Drago is up to.

Willing himself to look normal again, Drago sits up and says, “Sorry Newt. Illusions can be compelling.”

Newt relaxes and scoots back to the edge of the cot. “It’s… it’s okay. I just wasn’t ready for something like that. It’s been a rough evening, and I’m not feeling myself right now.”

Drago tries to comfort Newt with a scaley paw on her knee. Looking back at Lady Sedara, Drago cocks his head, “All is illusion?”

“Yes,” Sedara says, “it was all an illusion. Nothing more than an expedient means to implement the harshness of the Cuthbertian recommendations to deter the people of Westkeep from further riots, without having to actually do anything that would force the Heironeans to quit the city in protest. It made neither side happy and in the end has only made the Lion Throne seem no better than the Scarlet Sign.”

Later in the morning, Sedara comes down to Rain’s cell and sends Newt and Drago up to the palace to get dinner. She assures them that good food will be brought down to Rain momentarily but first she must speak with her privately. She also tells them that the Marinus brothers have returned safetly to Westkeep with Joia’s family, and that Joia herself was already safe in the palace.

Rain smiles at this news.

“Yes, milady. And thank you. I wasn’t sure when Rain would get something to eat.” Newt goes to dinner, finally a bit hungry. She is still unclear about who Joia is, but she can wait to find out.

Drago silently follows Newt to morning dinner, although his stomach is audibly calling out for food as he goes.

Finally the hour arrives, the three candidates (Apone, Rain, and Aramek dressed in brown shoes, black hose, white tunics, and red cloaks – Rain bears her rapier, Apone a longsword, and Aramek his wand) are led into the great hall, which is now festooned with banners and most especially the lion rampant of the Kingdom of Keoland. Apone’s former squad is present in their masterwork armor and clad in their dress uniforms. Around the hall are many knights in full armor, among them Fingol and the Marinus brothers. Rain notes that their gear is shiny and spit-polished. Also gathered in orderly ranks are the courtiers, maids-in-waiting, and court functionaries who are off duty.

Newt is there, dressed in her court clothes, trying to be as fancy as possible. She carries just a dagger, mostly on Rain’s advice, although she doesn’t like it, as she anticipates no trouble.

As ever, Drago is by Newt’s side, this time dressed in only a loincloth, his green scales alone as his raiment.

Father Wat is also fully armed and armored and standing with the other priests and paladins of Heironeous.

Aramek sees that Parwyn and Gwen are there as well, among other members of various Guilds who have been allowed to come to the ceremony.

Horns sound the entrance of the Prince, who enters the court in shining mail, with a blue gold trimmed cloak, a longsword at his side, and in his right hand he holds his scepter of office.

The herald then announces, “His Highness calls forth Sir Gorman Goodhope and Sir Bodwyn Thurstand. Sir Gorman Goodhope, with the permission of his superior Sir Bodwyn Thurstand, begs the boon of elevating these three members of his squad to the chivalric order. His Highness should by tradition have the herald call forth the order of chivalry, and seek their advice on the matter, and if everyone is of like mind.

“Do so,” says the Prince.

The herald cries out to the assembly, “May all knights or peers who wish to give testimony regarding the candidates step forward and be recognized.”

GM: At this point Fingol, Wat, Indranil, and/or Lorindel are all eligible among the PCs to step forward and await the Prince’s questions. Drago, and Newt are not eligible – and in fact are segregated from the knights and peers (higher nobles) with Parwn, Gwen, and other wealthy and important commoners who are present.

When all who have stepped forward have done so, the Prince asks, “Sir Gorman, are the candidates free to take the oath and accept the responsibilities of knighthood?”

Sir Gorman responds, “They are Your Highness.”

The Prince then asks the others who have stepped forward, “What would you share with the court regarding these candidates?”

Fingol gives the following testimony, “I stand here in support of the candidates. Each has done more than their duty at all times and shown such conduct as befits their rank and commission. Each has advanced the mission assigned to us by your lordship even at peril to their own lives. Each has saved lives at the risk of their own.”

Indranil then says, “Each candidate without regard to their own personal safety or reward accomplished the mission given to them at great peril and by their actions have shown themselves to be true nobles. I can think of no finer people to be raised to the chivalric order.”

Just then, the doors to the great hall swing open and Brother Burne, wearing a breastplate and with a battleaxe at his side, comes in dragging with him a man in muddy homespun. The stranger has a dark brown cloak with the cowl drawn around his face.

“Your Highness, please pardon this abrupt interruption, but this is a matter of grave urgency! There is one in this hall who is not what she presents herself to be!” Burne shoves the stranger in front of him. “And this man can tell you the truth of it!”

Fingol and the Marinus brothers can see that this is the man they saw at the Church of St. Cuthbert the day before. As he lowers his cowl they immediately realize why his hair and build struck them as familiar. The hair, eyes, and other features are Rain’s – if Rain were a slightly older male.

The Prince points his scepter at the stranger and says in a tone of stately indignation, “Who are you and what is so important that it cannot wait?”

“I am Niccolo of Greenleaf village,” the man answers and then points at Rain, “And she is my sister Cassi. Before you grant her knighthood you must know that I accuse her before this court of the murder of our
father!”

Pandemonium breaks loose among the court, as the peers, knights, and guild members all begin shouting and murmuring at once.

“By the gods!”

“…such wild accusations…”

“What comes of elevating such rabble…”

“…background checks anymore?”

“…poor judgment it would seem…”

Newt cries out. She falls to her knees with her head in her hand, howling and sobbing.

Swiftly Drago catches hold of Newt before she falls over and then lifts her up in both arms and begins moving her away from the crowd to the door.

The Prince cries out, “Enough! Silence!” His scepter of office slams down repeatedly upon his throne. He rises up from the throne as the murmurs die away as all eyes turn towards him.

“There will be an inquiry into the truth of this matter! Brother Burne, take this Niccolo of Greenleaf back to your Church and hold him there. He will present his case on the morning of the day after tomorrow. If he is not here, then you, Brother Burne, will answer to me. Now begone, the both of you!”

The Prince turns to Rain, “Rain, I am sorry, but for now you will have to be taken into custody under the truth of this matter is known. Sir Bodwyn, take her below to the dungeons. Sir Jankin, Sir Wakelin, go with him.

“Aramek, Apone, I am deeply sorry, but we will have to postpone your knighting. It would not be proper to complete it under the circumstances. After this matter has been resolved we will begin again, and ensure that there will be no unseemply disruptions.

“Sir Ragnbjorn, Sir Fingol, Sir Indranil, and Sir Lorindel, Apone, and Aramek, please meet me in my solar in an hour. Court is adjourned.” With that the Prince strides forth from the great hall.

As soon as the Prince exits the great hall through one of the side doors near the throne, Burne and Niccolo hastily leave through the main door. Bodwyn, Jankin and Wakelin in his wake with their hands on their swords, takes Rain by the arm and gently steers her out of the room through another side exit. Ragnbjorn immediately gathers together his son and the Marinus brothers. Lady Sedara cuts through the crowd to where Drago is still holding Newt in his arms, and she motions for them to follow her. The peers, knights, and guilds men begin to disperse, their murmuring rising again to fill the chamber.

Parwn and Gwen stay behind, making their way to Aramek. Parwn puts hand on Aramek’s shoulder, “I am so sorry Aramek. This was… I don’t even know what to say.”

At the chapel of Heironeous, Newt begins to revive. Sedara has Drago set her down on one of the pews.

“Please leave us,” Sedara says to Drago and Wat. “I would speak with her privately. Perhaps you could go out into the corridor and make sure no one enters the chapel except of course Paragon Muire?”

After the fiasco, Newt doesn’t have much appetite. She skips the meal and waits in the barracks (this time she wants to be where the others can find her if they need to), nervous about being near too many people–especially those that may have seen her collapse.

From an awkward silence she says to Drago “Thank you for carrying me out of there. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t helped me.”

Drago wags his tail, “Did you and Lady Sedara figure out what happened?”

“We did.” Newt looks around, making sure nobody else will hear what she’s about to say. In Draconic she says “Rain killed him, but there were reasons.”

Unsure if they should be talking about Rain’s case even among themselves, Newt changes the subject. In common she says (with a bit of a smile in her voice) “So now we’re even, right?”

Drago barks with laughter. “Ah, my little hatchling, I believe our fates will be entwined for a long time to come.”

With a slight smile Newt sighs, “Yeah. I kinda thought so.”

“Well, you’d better go get something to eat while you still can. Don’t worry–I’ll be good while you’re away.”

Drago grunts his agreement and leaves the barracks.

At dinner Drago finds the nobles very subdued. Burne and many other Cuthbertians have chosen to dine at their Church. Sitting nearby are Fingol, Ragnbjorn, and Wat.

Father Wat seems calm at dinner, as if nothing untoward has happened; or as if all things will work out as they should in the end.

Drago bobs his head in respect for the human nobles and takes a seat by his friends. “Any word on our friend Rain’s fate yet?”

“I’m very sorry,” Fingol apologizes “but the less said about that, the better. At least for right now. I don’t know very much about what is going on. What I do know makes me think that anything that is said might hurt Rain’s chances of clearing her good name. I do know she is being kept well and wants for nothing but her freedom.”

Drago grunts his thankful agreement as he looks around the table to see what kind of meats are being served for the evening meal.

Father Wat comments, “I am glad that Rain is being taken care of appropriately. It is unfortunate that such a thing had to happen during the ceremony.”

Fingol replies, “I don’t see why it had to happen at all.”

Slurping on a leg of lamb, Drago says, “Seeds sprout, grow and fruit in their own time.”

Father Wat pauses and tries to assess Drago’s comment. Then he says, “Sir Fingol, do you mean, ‘You don’t know why her brother had to come here at this time to make sure a claim?’ or do you mean, ‘Why would she have to kill her own father in the first place, if she did so.’”

Fin responds, “You’ve got an unfailing sense of charm, don’t you Father Wat?”

Father Wat frowns slightly, “What, am I supposed to get all righteous in indignation – so much so that I cast my family’s honor and my career onto Rain, a young lady I have just met? Sir Indranil thinks it is a good idea. But he is impetuous. And possibly misguided, since we have no clue what all the facts are in this case.

“Should I stand up and declare I believe the girl, regardless of what the facts might be?

“Or are you telling me you were there. You saw who actually killed her father? Or maybe you have spoken with Rain’s father recently and can prove the brother lies? Or maybe you watched the Cuthbertians beat up the brother until he would say anything to anyone?

“Here is where my charms come from: I believe my god will see justice done AND I am humble enough to know I don’t know all the details yet. I have no need of Sir Indranil’s righteous and foolhardy statements. I don’t need to declare my belief in the brother’s story, nor Rain’s. All because my god, not me, will divine the truth of the situation.

“So I sit here eating and praying that Rain is being kept well, and that the truth will come out. And if Rain did kill her father, and no just cause if found, I will pray her punishment will be swift and painless. And if she is found to have cause, I will do whatever I can to help her move past that to heal and stay as good a person as she now seems to be.

“But I certainly won’t sit around thinking that looking into an allegation of murder is ever a bad thing – I will just sit around HOPING the allegations are wrong, because I like Rain.”

Fingol replies, “I’m glad you are hoping for justice. I hope the same because I think that when it is done Rain will be vindicated.

“I don’t ask you to do anything other than what is in your heart. If you do not know Rain well enough to vouch for her, then don’t. Frankly, it never occurred to me that you should. You simply didn’t have the opportunity to know the woman Rain has become, despite her past. So do as you will, but I find your question impertinent at a time when a life hangs in the balance. Forgive me if I am a bit anxious as a result. Perhaps that is why Sir Indranil is behaving so impetuously. Although frankly, there is no gray in his world. So standing on the sidelines might be unforgivable to him.”

Aramek finds a servant to lead him to the hall where Indranil and Lorindel share a room, and where Fingol and Drago have each been given a room. He finds that Fingol is not in his room, but then he hears people speaking in the next room over and it sounds like the Marinus Brothers and Fingol, and so knocks at that door.

Indranil gets up, unlocks the door and opens in a crack peering out. Seeing Aramek he opens it widely with a grin and stepping to the side says, “Ah Good Aramek! Please come in, we would like to talk to you.” After Aramek enters Indranil looks both ways down the corridor and seeing no one, closes the door and re-locks it.

“Guardsman Aramek, thank you for coming so quickly.” Fingol says in a low voice “I know you have important personal matters to deal with, and that makes this all the more appreciated.

“I called you here because we have a question only a sorcerer can answer. Drago, our companion from the Malarat tribe evidenced magical ability. He claims sorcery runs in his family and can come on suddenly. In a word, he claims that he has no knowledge or training in sorcery, and that this manifestation today was his first clue that he might have the gift. If this is true, he will need some guidance in the development and control of his gift. We were hoping you might serve as his mentor.

“It is also possible that he claims ignorance for some other purpose… which I cannot guess at… If that is the case, then we would need to know that as well. You have shown a good understanding of arcane magic. I think you could figure out whether he is playing dumb or not. Perhaps not right away, but over time. We were hoping you might help with that also.”

Indranil has been nodding along with Fingol. He then adds continuing in Elvish as they have been, “Aramek in essence we need your help to figure out if Drago is being honest with us about his magical abilities..

“If he is truly as unaware of his powers as he claims to be then he is a danger to himself and to us until he develops understanding and control over them and will need a trusted mentor to help guide him. However, if he is being deceptive with us to keep his powers and mission hidden then we need to know that too.

“While we understand that Drago is Chief Rahk’s envoy we suspect he is also covertly acting as Chief Rahk’s spy with the mission. We think Drago has been tasked to find out what became of G’ruk and his followers and whether the Deathwalkers pose any further threat to the Malarat. Whatever other peculiarities Drago may have, we believe him to be acting as Chief Rahk’s eyes and ears and perhaps even hands and tail on this mission.”

“We believe it important to the safety of this mission to understand his motivations on this forthcoming mission.”

Aramek looks at all assembled, then back at Fingol.

“Sir Fingol, your concern is appreciated. In fact I was able to give Master Parwyn the herbs and plants that you so kindly helped me collect and he was most appreciative. Further, I was able to tell him of the fate of his son and the kindness of his response to me has left me deeply touched. All is well.

“As to Drago…” and, looking at Indranil, Aramek takes a breath. “I don’t know anything about him beyond what we’ve all observed. So I am no more certain of his motives than any of you, good sirs. And you do me a great honor by even considering that I might prove an able mentor for him, should he be as he claims.

“I’m afraid that I am probably the most naive of us all when it comes to sensing peoples motives – Father Gar being the most obvious example – but I believe I am learning to be a bit more cautious and observant.

“I will try to become better acquainted with Drago to see whether I can ascertain his honesty. And if I can help him at all regarding his magical abilities, I will try to.

“As to his being a spy for Chief Rahk, of that I have no doubt, although I’m going to try to think of him as an observer on behalf of our ally.”

Aramek smiles.

Fingols replies, “If you will serve as his mentor for now, the rest may work itself out. I am thinking of the time you and I talked of herbs and it became apparent how much more you knew of them… I was thinking the same thing may work itself out in this. That Drago may show himself to know more than he lets on… or not.

“Its my hope and expectation that he is what he claims… a new sorcerer in need of direction. And I think you have shown that you know your craft well. I don’t know if you want an apprentice, and the decision would be yours alone. Still it would appear that one has found you. There’s only to accept his request, or deny it.”

“Sir Fingol, your confidence in me does me great honor and I will accept the charge of working with Drago. And we shall all see how things unfold,” and with this, Aramek bows to Sir Fingol.

“Keep a watchful eye,” advises Lorindel, “but do keep it objective.”

Indranil nods his agreement.

Fingol takes Aramek across the hall and knocks on Drago’s door. When Drago answers he says, “Drago, you had said you wanted to see Guardsman Aramek. And to ask him for advice in controlling your new found powers. Fortunately, he is free to meet with you and consider your request.”

Aramek looks at Drago and nods politely, awaiting his response.

Drago bobs with appreciation, In Common, Drago says, “Master Sorcerer, I would be deeply honored if you would guide me during my draconic awakening. I noticed your Words of Power and wonder if they can help me learn to control what appears to have begun.”

Now when Fingol and Indranil returned they overheard Drago and Lorindel talking about sending messages and then:

“Greetings Sir Jankin, Sir Lorindel, and Drago. Talking shop?” asks Indranil.

“Hello, everyone. Has anyone found where they keep the ale?”

“No such luck,” sighs Lorindel. “Remember, no R&R,” he says sheepishly glancing towards his brother.

Drago grunts his agreement and his hood falls back off his head, “Meat too.”

“I’ll see what they might have salted away,” calls back Jankin as he heads out.

Indranil eyes widen slightly. He looks at Fingol with a slight grimace, then with a wink at Fingol he turns to Drago and says, “Would that be raw or cooked?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Drago bows respectfully. “If the Prince has any who have desecrated our ancestral mounds, they will do.” It is impossible to tell if he is joking or not.

Indranil looks vaguely irritated by Drago’s response, “Drago, I suspect you might have to reset your dietary expectations if you plan to remain with us. Humans do not eat their enemies nor find such talk tasteful. You are not so far from the egg not to know that so I caution you to watch your tongue.”

GM: At this point the argument begins – note that Indranil has Favored Enemy Reptilians and so he can’t possibly be ignorant of the fact that lizardfolk never let the meat of their dead enemies go to waste. So he should have known where joking about meat with a lizardfolk would lead. As GM I can chalk this up to Indranil having reptilians as favored enemy because he is ultra-wary of them and even feels dislike of them and is thus goading Drago deliberately.

In any case, Drago’s responses have been spot on for the role that Don is playing.

What does stretch credibility is that Fingol the supposed diplomat did not speak up to defuse this as Fingol knows that Drago is Chief Rahk’s emissary. Drago also has very good reasons indeed to feel a life-debt to Newt. Moreso in fact, since he would have become an undead if she had not risked her life to rescue him. This is in keeping with their culture as far as I the GM is concerned. So it is discourteous of Indranil to be taking the tack he is with Drago.

Also, you would not leave Drago while going off to get food and drink for yourselves – that’s discourteous too. Jankin at least would say something even if Fingol did not. At any rate, I decided that Jankin would already have provided for such and so amended that above.

And so, a bit of dialogue that got shunted aside I am going to put at the end like this:

Then turning to Drago, Lorindel instructs, “I recommend you fall in
line if you are to be considered a member of this party. Our mission
is simply too great. If you want to be trusted, you must earn it. Live
by your word or face the wrathful consequences.”

Indranil says, “Brother, you words are wise and I pay them heed. I do
find these punishments… extreme and would prefer other means.

GM: But think about this – would the three of you (Fingol, Lorindel, and
Indranil) really leave Drago with Jankin or by himself at this point?
And would you really say in front of him that you want to go and talk
behind his back about why you don’t trust him? That doesn’t make
sense. At the very least it would come across as very rude to Chief
Rahk’s emissary. So let’s skip this and likewise I will overrule
Drago’s response to it.

Now then to get back to the earliest thread of the conversation that
got shunted aside but which I will put here:

“Well, I see you are back to your more accustomed face. Have you
determined how it was changed earlier?” Fingol asks trying to change
the subject.

“Actually we were discussing some of the methods we employ to transmit
messages over great distances,” Lorindel explains. “I was letting
Drago know that we could contact Chief Rahk despite the long
distances.”

Drago replies, “Well, right before you arrived, these fine gentlemen
informed me that your human sorcerers can do so. Even animals can do
so. Then the thought occurred to me that perhaps a sorcerer can help
me learn to control what is happening to me. Is that nice human,
Aramek, around?”

Just then Jankin returns and says, “Food and drink are on the way. And
yes, we had been discussing how Drago could get a message to Chief
Rahk and back in order to corroborate his story about his rather
interesting family tree and hidden talents.”

Drago grunts his appreciation for the food, ale and Sir Jankin.

“I don’t think it is important to corroborate anyone’s story.” Fingol interjects “I am willing to take your word, until it is proven false. I do think it would behoove all of us if we understood your powers. Or at least were assured they are under your control. To that end, I would be happy to try to help you contact Chief Rahk. There are limitations on what I can accomplish, however. The clerics of Heironeous may be able to help you with more powerful magics.

With his head bowed submissively Drago hisses in Draconic, “A sorcerer to guide me would be most helpful.”

“That would be up to Guardsman Aramek, I suppose.” shrugs Fingol.

Drago’s head bobs happily, “Can you please send for him?”

“Well, maybe later I can take Drago over to the barracks and see if we
can find this Aramek,” offers Jankin.

“I believe Guardsman Aramek is dealing with a personal issue.” Fingol says “But I believe he’ll be summoned to the Keep on other business soon enough. So you shouldn’t have to wait long.”

Just then a harried looking middle-aged courtier approaches. Lorindel
recognizes him as Liam the Steward. “Good sirs, I have come to see
that our esteemed guest, Drago, is taken to his quarters. You are all
being put in the same wing, so you can all follow me and put your
things away and change. In fact, Sir Fingol, Sir Indranil, and Sir
Lorindel, you are being given the same rooms that you had before. I
think you will find that things are more secure here at the palace
than during your last stay.” Liam then leads the way to the guest rooms.

“Darn!” thinks Fingol, “I could really use more trail bars!”

Drago follows all orders submissively. He knows he is the bottom of this clutch.

Fireseek 23

Once inside the foyer of the palace, Sir Jankin says, “The Prince asked me to have you all brought up to his solar for a debriefing.”

“Very well,” says Ragnbjorn, “but first there is something we need to get straightened out first.” He then steps over to Drago and says, “Drago, please remove your cloak.”

When Drago does so, they all see that once again he is a lizardfolk warrior.

Ragnbjorn asks, “Drago, we need to know what is going on with you before I can in good conscience bring you before Prince Prospero. How is it that you made yourself appear to be human?”

Drago respectfully hisses in Draconic, “I did no such thing.”

Ragnbjorn raises his eyebrow, “You didn’t? Well, you certainly appeared to be human when that guard pushed back your hood. Are you seriously claiming that was not your doing?”

Fingol: “You neither resisted the guard as pushed back your hood, nor showed surprise at his reaction. So you must have known or been a party to the deception. Explain it to us, evasiveness is not going to win you the trust you will need to continue as Newt’s self appointed bodyguard.”

Drago blinks and ponders. Finally he says in Draconic, “Sir Ragnbjorn, before we left on your ship, Chief Rahk told me that such is the way with sorcerers and adepts in my family. Their powers appear without aware and without control. At least at first. For myself, I have seen no evidence other than your reactions to me. It is very odd.”

Indranil has taken a step back, pushed his cloak away and placed his hand on his sword’s hilt. His eyes have narrowed and he is slipped into his hyper aware state of readiness.

Fingol holds his arm out between Indranil and Drago. “Peace cousin. Let’s continue to see the Prince. Meanwhile, we’ll have the guard show Drago to a room here in the keep where he can consider how it was we all saw what we saw. Afterall, if his powers are not under his control, he can scarcely expect to be brought before Prince Prospero.”

Ragnbjorn nods, “I agree Fingol. I did notice that the guard reached out rather quickly and Drago’s hands were too wrapped up in his cloak to stop him. I did notice, Drago, that you were a bit surprised that the guard was not surprised. So I do believe you when you say this was not of your conscious doing. Still, we must be careful.”

Ragnbjorn turns to Sir Jankin, “If you will, could you please take Drago as our guest to where he can have something to eat and drink until we have talked to the Prince and quarters have been assigned to him? I know the way to the Prince’s Solar.”

“As you will my lord,” Sir Jankin replies. To Drago, “If you would follow me this way, I’ll see if the kitchen staff can prepare something for you. I have never met one of your folk before and would be happy to keep you company for awhile. I am sure there is much you can teach me about the lizardfolk and the marshes.”

Indranil: “We cannot leave an untrained sorcerer alone in the Palace if we send to one of the guest quarters he needs to be kept under guard by a warded unit or escorted back to the Javan Queen to await our pleasure.”

“I am sure we will be fine, Sir Indranil,” says Jankin with a smile, “I am confident of my ability as a paladin of Heironeous to handle one lone sorcerer. There are also plenty of other knights and clerics about. But if you think my company is not sufficient for Drago, perhaps one of you can be spared from the meeting with the Prince?”

“Hmm,” Ragnbjorn considers, “Sir Lorindel, would you be good enough to keep Chief Rahk’s envoy company?”

“Of course, sir,” says Lorindel.

Indranil bows, “Good Sir Jankin, please excuse my caution. I do not question your capabilities only to note that whoever does guard him needs to be a paladin or cleric themselves skilled in detecting and warding from
magic. We have had recent dealings with evil clerics and sorcerers narrowly escaping with our lives against great odds and to return to Westkeep under martial law. It is uncertain times.”

“No need to apologize,” I would be feeling ill-at-ease as well if I returned from the field to find the city as it is. In fact, I cannot honestly say that I do feel at ease with the present conditions.”

Jankin turns to Drago, “It would be best for your own safety and our own peace of mind if you were escorted until you have been formally introduced to the Prince and the court.”

“I don’t suspect evil.” Fingol jumps in “Please don’t take Sir Indranil’s words as an inference. But to bring one with untrained power before the Prince is a risk that cannot be justified.

“I am sure you will enjoy your time with Drago. There is much to be admired in the Malarat.”

The ever quiet Drago, dizzy from the accusations and the ramifications, finally says in butchered Keolandish, “Please, please, I would be happy to join this kind human, Sir Jankin and our friend Sir Lorindel. I too would not trust me. I too do not trust me.” Then looking at Sir Jankin, “But I trust you. I will tell you all I know.”

Still not feeling terribly safe in this hell hole palace the humans call home, he dons his cape once more as a disguise and walks with Jankin and Lorindel.

As Drago walks away, he appears unusually talkative with Jankin and Lorindel, but the others can’t hear what he is saying over the din.

Switching to Common to more easily express himself and lowering his voice an octave so as not to be overheard, Drago begins, “For me, it all began near the end of our battle to take the ancestral mounds of my people away from Deathwalkers. The wight Relikez paralyzed me and then drained my energy. The hatchling Newt rescued me or surely I would not be with you today. Chief Rahk believes that I was able to cure myself because of my ancestors. Only two days ago, he told me that our village elders believe that I descend from a copper dragon who long ago lived amongst my people. He said there have been many adepts and sorcerers amongst Kopep’s descendants ever since.”

Drago went on and on, hardly pausing to breathe, thankful to express at last what has been bottled inside him these last few days. He told them about the message to Newt that, evidently, he sent on the wind and repeated that he has no knowledge of the magic when it occurs. He only sees the evidence in human words and their faces, which he still cannot read well.

Sir Jankin exclaims, “What a marvelous story! So you are supposedly descended from dragons, or a dragon anyway, and now you find yourself a sorcerer? Is this common among the lizardfolk?”

Drago replies, “No, it is not common among our kind, although adepts and sorcerers are honored for what they can contribute to the tribe.”

Drago, that is quite a revelation,” admits Lorindel. “I have no reason to doubt such an account, and as you quoted Chief Rahk some corroboration can be established.”

After a brief pause, Lorindel says, “I meant no disrespect by that, it’s just that Sir Indranil is very strict on security, understandably, in this detail.”

After walking a few steps in silence, Drago says, “But Chief Rahk is far from here. Can humans send messages on the wind as well?” If they could see his face, they would see a quizzical and curious look. The human world is so much more complicated than he imagined.

“Yes, there are many who have the means to send and recieve messages over long distances,” explains Lorindel. “Some use arcane and divine powers, while others utilize animals and other creatures to relay messages.”

Fingol and Indranil return to the lower hall where Jankin, Lorindel, and Drago are waiting for them. They overhear Drago and Lorindel talking as they come in.

Drago ponders this for a moment and a light goes on in his dimly lit mind and he says softly, “Perhaps a sorcerer can help me learn about myself?”

“I don’t see why not,” responds Lorindel.

Just then Fingol and Indranil return from their meeting with the Prince. Ragnbjorn is no longer with them.