Archive for the ‘Ragnbjorn’ Category

24
Nov

The Dungeons of Westkeep (narrative)

   Posted by: Gar Dragonsbreath

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.

19
Nov

The Aborted Knighting (narrative)

   Posted by: Gar Dragonsbreath

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.”

16
Oct

Drago Reveals His Secret (narrative)

   Posted by: gmatss

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.

15
Oct

At the Gate of the Keep (narrative)

   Posted by: Gar Dragonsbreath

Fireseek 23: at the Gate to the Westkeep Palace

NOTE: What follows are excerpts from the narrative. Drago is genuinely unaware that anything out of the ordinary occurs when the drakonik power of Kopep to disguise himself first appears. His only clues are the looks on human faces.

Arriving at the entrance to the keep they see that it is flanked by gibbets, iron cages in which have been hung the corpses of executed criminals. Crows peck at the carrion and hover all about the palace. From within the courtyard can be heard a large crowd shouting and yelling, and occasionally gasping in dismay.

The guard at the entrance seems to be doubled. In addition to the pike wielding members of the Guard, a fully armored knight walks out to meet them. He flips back his visor to reveal that it is Sir Jankin who has come forth to greet them. He looks a bit pale and drawn however, though he makes an effort to be pleasant. “Hail Sir Ragnbjorn. It is good to see that you and the others have returned safely. Please follow me, and I will take you Fingol, and the Marinus and any other dignitaries who may be with you in to see the Prince. Sgt. Apone and the Guards may be go over to the barracks and report in to Commander Gorman.”

“Thank you Sir Jankin,” Ragnbjorn replies. “It sounds as though the executions are still going on. They haven’t finished with all the rioters yet?”

Sir Jankin looks quite downcast as he answers, “Yes, they are finishing with the rapists now. These,” he indicates the gibbets, “will be replace with the fresh bodies soon. I believe they are preparing the arsonists now. Let us please go now. It may be just, but it is not a sight I wish to see and I would prefer we are all within the palace when they start.”

Fingol responds, “No my friend, it may preserve order… for a time… but it is not just.”

“As you say, Sir Jankin, there is no need for us to delay. Indrani, Lorindel, Fingol, and I will come with you.” Ragnbjorn turns to Sgt. Apone. “Sergeant, please bring Adelina and Drago with you to the barracks. We will send for them later. And also see to it that Odric is put in the dungeons, but well away from the other rabble.”

“As you will,” Sgt. Apone responds.

Just then one of the guards manning the entrance comes over to Drago’s cloaked form and says, “Sorry sir, but we can’t let anyone through without getting a good look at ‘em first. Those are the rules, no exceptions.”

Before anyone can stop him, the guard reaches out and knocks back the hood of Drago’s cloak to reveal a tall handsome man with fair skin, close cropped blond hair, and cornflower blue eyes.

“Who is this then?” asks the guard. “Are you with them?” He nods towards Sgt. Apone’s squad.

“Yes, sir, my name is Drago,” he responds to the guard.

Indranil raises his eyebrows when Drago’s hood is cast back and utters an involuntary gasp. Then he turns to Lorindel and whispers, “Well that will come in handy.”

“Indeed it will, Brother,” agrees Lorindel.

Ragnbjorn looks quite shocked but then steps over to the guard and says, “Yes, Drago is with us.”

The guard nods and steps aside.

Sir Jankin asks, “Is everything alright, Sir Ragnbjorn? You look a little…”

Ragnbjorn waves him off, “No Sir Jankin. Everything is fine, but I think that Drago had better come along with our party after all. Drago, please stay with me.”

Drago knows enough about humans to wonder that the guard doesn’t recoil in horror from him. He also finds it curious that Ragnbjorn, Indranil, and others are looking at him so curiously.

Without further ado, Drago pulls the hood back over his head. He feels exposed. He wants to hide.

Once away from Drago Newt explodes, angrily venting to the Guard. “Can you believe him?! So what is he? Lizard or human? And WHO is he?! Oohhh! I’m SO ANGRY! How can we trust someone who presents himself one way then switches who he is just like that (she snaps her fingers)?” She is genuinely indignant at the deception.

15
Oct

Drago @ Westkeep’s Levee Docks – first visit (narrative)

   Posted by: Gar Dragonsbreath

Fireseek 23

NOTE: This was an open conversation upon the Javan Queen.

The Javan Queen finally arrives at the docks of Westkeep in the mid-afternoon. They could smell Westkeep long before seeing the levee-docks of the warehouse district. The next thing after the god-awful smell was the raucous cacophony of noise – at first a murmur at the edge of hearing then building to a loud buzzing like being inside a mill. Turning the final bend of the meandering river the levee-docks of the warehouse district came into view.

A dozen small riverboats are docked and in various stages of loading and unloading. Stevedores swarm everywhere, carrying cargo up and down the ramps leading from the levee-docks down to the warehouse lined thoroughfare called the Riverway or else loading or unloading larger crates onto large wooden cranes. Shouting and whip cracking rises above the noise as masters and supervisors drive the predominantly Olman workers to new levels of toil to speed up the work. Here and there atop the levee-docks can be seen groups of Cuthbertian militia wearing crumpled hats and white tabards emblazoned with the ruby starburst of St. Cuthbert. In their belts or held menacingly at their sides are the clubs they use to preserve order. They seem to be watching over everyone and checking all the incoming cargo.

The Javan Queen is poled alongside the central wharf extending out from the levee-docks. Two of the crew jumps ashore and begin securing the bow and stern lines. A Cuthbertian patrol hails Captain Olman and they begin walking down the wharf.

Uglash says to Varkgrub and Drago, “You two had better stay below for now until Captain Olman and Sir Ragnbjorn have talked to the dock inspectors.”

“Varkgrub, this isn’t quite the city we left. It might be better if you did stay below for now.” Father Wat grimaces at the Cuthbertian patrol and says to Varkgrub, “It is not entirely clear I can get us both safely to my brethren just this second. But soon…”

Drago is torn. His senses are assaulted by his first glimmers of Westkeep. He looks from Newt to Uglash to Wat, finally grunts his agreement and silently follows Varkgrub below deck, but looking over his shoulder at Newt.

“What?” Newt says, realizing what that look may mean. “I’ll be okay. And besides, I told you, you’re not bound to me.”

Group chatter and warnings from Indranil follow, finishing with, “Rain, Adelina must never leave your sight and she is not to leave the palace under any circumstances without permission from the Prince, Sir Ragnbjorn, Sir Fingol, Sir Lorindel or myself. He looks directly at Rain and asks, “Is that clear? It is a shame Drago cannot join us, his added protection would be valuable.”

At that moment, Drago comes up into the deckhouse and from inside he calls to the others in Draconic, “I don’t want to be left behind where I cannot protect Newt. I have found camouflage.” With that, he pulls the hood over his snout, tucks in his tail and steps onto the deck, covered from head to feet in a long cape. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow this, Uglash,” he adds in Common to the tall half-orc.

Uglash, who has come back aboard with Captain Olnut after speaking with the Cuthbertians, snorts and says, “Be my guest.”

Captain Olnut says to Ragnbjorn, Indranil, Fingol, and the others, “You’re all cleared. They understand that you are the King’s Rangers coming back from a mission for the Prince.”

Indranil looks at Rangbjorn and nods his acceptance of Drago joining them. After all the Malarat are now allies and he likes the idea of Newt having a second body guard.

Newt just sighs again, but much more quietly this time. Her face shows classic teen ‘But I’m an adult! I can take care of myself’ emotions. But she doesn’t make a fuss. Besides, the big city has too much to see for her to be troubled with trifles like bodyguards.

Ragnbjorn smiles and rubs his jaw thoughtfully, “I suppose that will do. Okay then Drago, you help Rain guard Newt. I am sure that the Prince will also be happy to meet one of Chief Rahk’s fine warriors.”

“Thank you, Sir Ragnbjorn, best friend of the Malarat,” hisses Drago in Draconic.

NOTE: While this was a private encounter, nothing new is revealed here.

Fireseek 21

Chief Rahk motions to Drago to follow him. Together they approach Ragnbjorn. In Draconic Chief Rahk says, “Sir Ragnbjorn, I would like to speak with you in private.”

“Certainly Chief Rahk,” Ragnbjorn responds in Draconic. “In fact, I wished to speak to you about the disposition of the spoils.”

Chief Rahk shakes his head, “That is no concern of mine. We have the mound and have revenged ourselves upon our enemies. We shall take their weapons, but not their armor. You are welcome to the coins and other items. After all, we have no stores. What would we buy with it? No, I must talk to you about another matter.”

Ragnbjorn nods and the three of them walk up the riverbank away from the others, their path lit only by the moons and the stars.

Chief Rahk indicates Drago and says, “This warrior is Drago. He is courageous and honorable, but he has long wished to see the world beyond our nests and hunting grounds. Also, his life was saved by that child that you call Newt. He owes his life and very soul to her and would continue as her protector. In addition, I would like him to guide you through the marshes to this lost city you seek as a representative of the Malarat tribe. He does not himself know the way to this city, but he certainly knows the marshes better than any human possibly could. Also, if you run into other lizardfolk, he may be able to negotiate safe passage for you. Will you do me the honor of taking him with you?”

Ragnbjorn considers this. “It is certainly a reasonable request. Yes, I think it might be good to have one of your warriors with us. Drago, you are welcome to join us, though I must caution you to cloak yourself when we get back to Westkeep. Things are a little tense there, and outside the palace I cannot guarantee your safety. Inside the palace I am sure that Prince Prospero will see that you are made comfortable until the expedition to find Thracia embarks. I will introduce you to Sir Fingol, the Marinus brothers, and Sgt. Apone and let them know you will be joining us. Then we will find a place for you on the boat. You should probably stay on the boat tonight as we will be leaving first light.”

Drago remains quiet during the conversation, looking from one to another. After Sir Ragnbjorn’s agreement, Drago bows deeply and then butchers his Keolandish, “Thank you, milord, for allowing me to serve you.”

10
Oct

Drago Joins the Humans (narrative)

   Posted by: Gar Dragonsbreath

NOTE: This was a public conversation.

That night Chief Rahk and the Malarat warriors host a farewell feast for Ragnbjorn, Fingol, the Marinus brothers, the Guard and the captain and crew of the Javan Queen.

At a certain point, though, Chief Rahk and the lizardfolk named Drago (the one who had been teaching Draconic to Newt and Rain) and Ragnbjorn all take their leave and walk off.

Rain spends her time with the squad, mostly in a melancholy mood. At some point during the feast, she will find Lt. Ahsk and Lt. Raz saying to each in common, “It has been an honor fighing with the Malarat warriors”, then in Draconic, “Goodbye and until we meet again.”

Newt is back to her cheerful self not long after her interview with Sir Ragnbjorn. At the feast Newt makes general conversation, mostly with the other commoners. She is the quintessential social butterfly, happily moving from person to person, enjoying the company of each.

Later in the evening, Newt asks Hex, “So, Guardsman Hex, will you teach me to play Three Dragon Ante?”

“Certainly, I’d be happy to,” Hex says. I could show you a few things now. He breaks out his pack and begins acquainting Newt with how the game works.

Aramek is just happy to be with his friends. He knows difficult times lie ahead but for now, he just wants to enjoy what there is to enjoy.

Gar seems relaxed but is still keeping to himself. He watches everyone and tries to have a good time. He hangs out by Rain and Newt. However, since he’s not talking, he’s probably drinking more than the others, trying to kill the dull ache at the center of his soul.

Indranil partakes of the feast but not the drink. He appears distracted and periodically gets up to walk the perimeter and speak to the guards. At times he actually walks into the river and stands still listening and feeling. Later on in the evening, he whispers to Fingol and Lorindel concerning his anxiety and asks them to be alert.

Fingol says, “I am already anxious enough, thank you.”

Fingol is also suspicious of why Chief Rahk, Ragnbjorn, and Drago have skulked off. Although the time when Ragnbjorn is gone, is the time when Fingol is most at ease all evening. He eats and drinks lightly, but spends time with Lt. Ahsk and Lt. Raz making an effort to make the most of the evening. He makes jokes about falling in the quicksand and any other embarrassing moments.

Lorindel gives Indranil a reassuring clasp on the shoulder. Unlike his brother, for the first time in a long while, Lorindel is finally at ease. He eats his fill and enjoys a few tankards. He then walks over to Adelina and her bodyguard.

“I’m glad she’s on our side,” he says to Rain. “Adelina, stay close to this one,” instructs Lorindel while motioning with his head towards the guard. “We need to keep you safe.”

Newt replies, “Yes, my lord. For my part, I too am glad to be on your side. Rain, did you hear how many Sir Lorindel alone slew in the mound? And I would never want to be on the wrong end of Guardsman Rain’s blades!” She lifts her tankard in a toast to the two of them, and then goes to refill it.

Rain sees Chief Rahk returning to the feast with Drago at his side. She quickly takes her chance to intercept them to say, “Chief Rahk, it has been an honor to fight with a great warrior such as yourself. I am pleased to know that I can call you ally,” and then in Draconic “Goodbye until we meet again”.

Then she turns to Drago and attempt to say in Draconic, “I want to thank you for teaching me Draconic, it made the walk back here go that much quicker. Farewell to you and I hope we see each other again in
the future.”
Drago
Chief Rahk responds in Draconic, “Actually, Drago will be joining you. He is to be the representative of the Malarat on your expedition to find the lost city of Thracia. He is also honor bound to protect you, Newt, with his life because you saved his back at the shrine of Thanatos.”

Rain responds in Draconic, having not managed to insult any of the Malarat yet “This is good news, I for one will be very happy to have him join the expedition. I am not sure of my orders yet, but also hope to be included.”

Newt chokes on her drink and stutters as she says “Wait… Hon…honor-bound?” She waves her hand as if to ward off Drago. “That won’t be necessary. Truly! I was glad to help. You are not bound to me. Truly you are not!”

Drago appears to smile at Newt, but otherwise remains silent.

Elsewhere, Ragnbjorn rounds up Fingol and the Marinus brothers and likewise informs them of the addition of Drago. “He’s over there with Chief Rahk, Newt and the others if you wish to talk with him.”

Lorindel welcomes Drago into the party.

Fingol brightens up upon hearing Chief Rahk’s news, “That is excellent!” he exclaims in Draconic. He then hustles over to Drago, (again in Draconic) “I hear you are to be a part of our expedition. I am sure you will be be a great help (glancing over to his father) to whomever is chosen to go.”

Completely unsure why, but after Fingol’s comment Rain playfully nudges him hip to hip. Afterward she clearly realizes she has made a number of protocol breeches, flushes red and moves into the back of the crowd.

“Thank you,” hisses Drago’s response, with his body in a submissive posture.

Gar smiles at Drago and his welcome announcement, but otherwise continues to keep to himself.