Sunday Night, Fireseek 9, 591 Common Year

After supper that evening, relaxed after having had a good meal, Gar turns to the Chief and says in Draconic, “Milord, I would be honored if you allowed this humble emissary of the Great Druidess to walk at your side through the marsh on this expedition.”

Chief Rahk replies in Draconic, “I would be honored Father Gar, devotee of Obad-Hai and emissary of the Great Druidess, to have you at my side. The last time we tried to attack the Deathwalkers in their layer we did not have anyone with us who could counter the power of their priests.”

“Thank you, I will do my best,” replies Gar in Common, as he absently mindedly looks around the group at his comrades.

Ragnbjorn says in Common, “Chief Rahk, we have decided that we will send a force to accompany you in your fight against the Deathwalkers – at least for this attack against the shrine you have found. It has been decided that Sir Indranil will lead this expeditionary force, at least on the human side. I will be returning to Westkeep to report the situation to Prince Prospero and to make sure that Master Ailil is brought to justice. I also need to report the treachery of Guardsman Noch.”

Sgt. Apone speaks up in Common, “Sir Ragnbjorn, do you wish for me to stay here with the squad or should I go with you to give a full accounting of Noch’s actions?”

Sir Ragnbjorn says, “I think it would be better if you stayed here to help Sir Indranil. If you could assign a couple of guardsmen to go back with me, that would suffice. Perhaps Vaskez and Hex could return with me?”

“Yes sir.”

Gar nods his silent but unasked for agreement.

Fingol continues with these thoughts, in Common, “Sir Indranil and I have not discussed this thoroughly, Chief Rank. However, I was thinking that, with the exception of Father Gar, the force from Westkeep should be kept as a unit supporting your troops. The guardsmen have trained as a squad and I believe they will be more effective together. I would be honored to travel with you also as opportunity permits, but I will fight under Sir Indranil’s command.”

Gar remains silent but looks very pleased.

Chief Rahk nods and says in Common, “I think it is best if our two forces fight side-by-side but that otherwise we do not intermingle. I am sorry that Sir Ragnbjorn will not be with us, but if he trusts Sir Indranil then I will too. Likewise, I will be honored to have Sir Ragnbjorn’s son fighting with me. I am sure that Sir Indranil and I will be able to coordinate our respective forces.”

Ragnbjorn continues in Common, “I am still of a mind to bring Adelina with me to Westkeep. This is no place for a young girl, and you are no guardswoman yet,” he says this looking to Adelina. “On the other hand, Father Gar does believe that she is needed here because she may be some link to finding not just her parents but some lost city, the source of these troubles. Adlina herself makes the good point that she knows this area well, though I think that between Chief Rahk and his folk, we have better guides than any we could ever wish for. What do the rest of you think? Sir Fingol? Sir Indranil? Sir Lorindel?”

Newt almost bursts into another argument about why she should be included, but catches herself and sees she’s really not being asked. She very eagerly awaits the others’ input.

“For my part,” Fingol jumps in, “I would have her stay with us. We have been strongly directed by the visions from Obad-Hai, thus far. If we, in fact, place faith in these visions, than we must not ignore that she was shown to be with us when we search for and find the city.”

Adelina nods enthusiastically, but holds her tongue.

Rain butts in quietly, “I’ll keep her safe.”

Adelina shoots a grateful smile to Rain and silently mouths, “Thank you!”

“I was about to object,” cuts in Lorindel. “I still have my misgivings; however, if Rain is willing to act as chaperon, I will remain silent.”

Turning towards Newt, Lorindel continues, “The fact that you were able to stay hidden and alive the days following the assault, Newt, at least shows you have some innate abilities. I have my orders though, and need to remain focused. I hope your presence does not add unnecessary risk.”

“Oh, milord!” Newt replies to Sir Lorindel, “I will not be a hindrance to you! You may rely on me for that, and I’ll do all I can to aid you.”

Rain responds, this time in Elvish, “She will be fine, Lorindel… I suspect there is much more to our Newt than she lets on.”

“Of that,” laughs Lorindel as he responds in Common, “I have no doubts.”

Indranil first gives a full bow (of a subordinate) to the center of the Circle of Honor and then also to Chief Rahk and then a half bow (as of an equal) to those of Rahk’s officers who are also in the circle and says in Draconian, ”Chief Rahk!  We accept your gracious offer to accompany you and your noble, most excellent, warriors on your mission to eliminate the vile Deathwalkers from your lands.  I thank you for letting us share in such a noble mission. It does us a great honor to be included in your war party.” Indranil bares his teeth and sticks out his tongue as if tasting the air. “May we partake of the forthcoming victory feast together!” Indranil finishes this with a loud crack of his bared teeth.

“Chief Rahk, I agree with your wisdom to keep our forces separate from a chain of command. And you are most wise to order we coordinate our respective forces. Perhaps we can hold a war council to discuss your plans along with my officers, Sir Fingol and Sir Lorindel, to plan our order of battle so that we may most effectively support your mission and leverage our strengths?”

Chief Rahk replies in Common and then repeats himself in Draconic, “Yes, I agree, we should have a meeting tomorrow at noon, just the leaders and officers. Perhaps you can bring your charts as well.”

Indranil says, ”Agreed! It shall be as you command. Chief Rahk, Please excuse me as I must address my party to ensure they are aware of their function.”

Indranil turns to Sir Fingol, and says in Draconian, “Sir Fingol, please translate my words so our worthy hosts understand everything we say inside the Circle of Honor.”

Fingol translates as asked.

Indranil then gives a full bow (of a subordinate) to Sir Ragnbjorn and says in the common tongue, “Sir Ragnbjorn, I agree with Sir Fingol and would like to have Adelina remain with our expedition. I understand the danger for her. However, I respect Father Gar’s vision from Obad-Dai and along with my own observations from the last few days believe that Adelina is the key to the Deathwalker threat we face. I asked Guardsman Rain to be Adelina’s bodyguard and teacher during our scouting party to Adelina’s home and Rain surpassed herself in this role. I have great confidence that Rain will continue to excel in this role to keep Adelina safe and continue her instruction in the martial arts. With your permission I would like Adelina to remain with us.”

Indranil turns to Rain and asks her, “Guardsman Rain do you accept this charge to hold safe from all enemies and evil and instruct Adelina in the martial arts upon your life and pain of death?”

Rain hesitates for a few seconds with a smirk on her face, You have got to be kidding… upon pain of death? Really, who talks like that? …and what in the Nine Hells are all of these animal gestures… oh for the love of Norebo please don’t let me burst out laughing… hold it… hold it…, then seems to sober and says, “Sure”, and then bares her teeth and wiggles her tongue at Indranil. I sure hope that was some sort of gesture meaning it would be my honor? she thinks after performing this gesture.

From the look on Indranil’s face and the sudden silence and stillness from the lizardfolk as well as Chief Rahk’s intent look upon both she and Indranil, Rain realizes that she has probably just made a very grave error in trying to mimic the nonverbal communication of the lizardfolk.

Chief Rahk inquires in Common, “Perhaps there is some question as to who should be war chieftain?”

Newt is anxiously watching how this turn of events unfolds. On one hand, the person advocating for her inclusion in the expedition has been challenged. On the other hand, Newt’s tutor/bodyguard is at risk. To Newt’s way of thinking, little good can come of this.

Indranil realizes that he must get Rain to back down in a way that the lizardfolk will clearly understand.

Rain turns red in embarrassment as she realizes that her attempt at showing honor to Indranil by mimicking that stupid teeth/tongue thing has failed miserably. She begins to stand to address Indranil in apology to placate the lizards, but her wits fail her and Indranil reacts first. He jumps to his feet and roars! He then stalks over to where Rain is sitting and first taking off his gloves he then slaps Rain knocking her to the ground. He grabs her shirt and lifts her to her feet.

Growling in her ear, Indranil says so that Rain alone you can hear, “You impulsive fool! You have forced this upon me. I have no wish to strike you, or lord it over you or be your master. I have shown you great respect so far, in fact given you a mission of utmost importance to us all. Do you think I would entrust such a mission to someone I have no regard for? Someday you will to learn that respect given and returned is no weakness. Now do something smart and grovel as a bit of theater for the lizards so we can move on.” Rain hangs her head in submission, and after a moment Indranil drops Rain back into her seat in the Circle.

Newt wonders what just happened. Rain should have received a proper beating for the disrespect she’d shown. She had earned it! In her mind, Newt wonders if Indranil is afraid to assert his rightful authority and dodge responsibility with a growled warning to Rain. Perhaps Indranil wasn’t finished. Newt keeps watching, waiting for the conclusion. Newt reminds herself to refer to Indranil using the honorific “Sir,” even if her estimation of him needs revision.

Then Xalakae recalls that in the lizardfolk culture, what Indranil had done was sufficient to establish dominance as long as Rain backed down. Unlike the humans, the lizardfolk did not resort to beatings and other forms of sadism as a means of taking and grasping power. For them it was sufficient when dominance had been established and acknowledged through a simple display of strength, skill, or force of personality.  Xalakae’s insight into Sir Indranil’s actions transforms into a new respect for how smoothly he handled the situation. Her eyes stay on Rain, watching for her response.

Rain sits silently with her head hung for a few seconds. She then slowly rises and addresses Chief Rahk in Common. “Great Chief Rahk, my sincere apologies for my careless words and my fumbling attempts to mimic what I thought was a gesture of honor to our War Leader Indranil. I meant no disrespect to him or to this Circle of Honor. There is no question in my mind that Sir Indranil is our War Chieftain, which I will gladly follow on this mission you have so kindly allowed us to join.”

She turns to Indranil, “Sir Indranil, to you I owe debt of gratitude for you have shown me great respect in allowing me a place in your company as well as your kind appraisal of my actions. I regret my attempts to mimic your actions, which I took for Draconic. I chose my words carelessly, hoping that I would convey my feelings of honor at your words and for choosing me to watch over the child Adelina by a more appropriate response. Of that I failed. Please allow me to say what I meant in a language I more fully understand… Thank you Sir Indranil. It will be my honor to follow you and to look after Newt and be sure that no harm comes to her.” At this she bows lowly before Indranil then Rahk.  She again sits down, dropping her countenance of shame and sitting up straight with the dignity of a warrior.

Lorindel slumps back and lets out a sigh of relief.

Indranil turns to Newt and says, “Adelina do you fully understand the dangers of this mission? Do you accept Guardsman Rain as your teacher and guard, to obey her in all she asks? Do you accept a role in our expedition and thereby agree to obey all commands of myself, Sir Fingol and Sir Lorindel? Do you agree to conduct yourself with honor at all times?

Standing to give a full bow to Sir Indranil, Newt replies, “Yes, milord, I understand the danger of the mission.” Looking at Rain, “And I accept Rain’s role as guardian and teacher. I’m sure I can trust her to take good care of me and teach me well.” Brightening visibly, she continues, “Oh, thank you for including me in the expedition! I will follow your orders faithfully, and those of the other good knights. I will act honorably and will not disappoint you. Thank you! Thank you, milord!”  With that, she bows deeply and sits back down, much relieved to be on the expedition’s roster.

Indranil finally turns to Father Gar and gives a half-bow (of an equal) and says in common, “Father Gar I am pleased with your decision to remain with our joint war party. The guidance of the Great Druidess is honor indeed and much valued. We will have need of your wisdom, perception and healing powers during this quest. While you are attending Chief Rahk closely I hope you will also avail yourself of our party as well.”

Gar bows deeply to Indranil, but without standing up. Turning to Ragnborn and Fingol, Gar says in Common, “You chose well, milords.”

Looking back at the new undisputed war chieftain of the humans, Gar says, “I would still like to camp with your troop, if you don’t mind, Sir Indranil.”

“Father Gar you are welcome to camp with us.”

“Thank you milord,” says Gar with a smile.

Indranil closes his eyes and bows fully to the center of the Circle of Honor with arms and legs tucked to symbolize a return to the Great Egg indicating he is finished speaking.

Ragnbjorn says, “Very well then. I will return to Westkeep on the Javan Queen along with guardsmen Hex and Vaskez to escort the traitor Master Ailil. The other delegates will also return with us to Westkeep until peace has been secured in the marshes and proper negotiations can be undertaken. I will report all this to Prince Prospero. Sir Fingol, will stay here as the Prince’s envoy to the lizardfolk. Father Gar will also remain as the envoy of the Great Druidess. Sir Indranil will remain to command the Keoland forces with his brother Sir Lorindel to assist him. Adelina will, I suppose, be considered a temporary member of the Guard under Rain’s care but under the command of Sgt. Apone and ultimately Sir Indranil. I will return to Cypress Hill aboard the Javan Queen in about a week. We will wait for you there one week and then return to Westkeep. I certainly hope that you will be back there or at least able to send a messenger back there in that time.”

Fingol gets up, walks over to Chief Rahk and bows low saying in Draconic, “Thank you for your gracious hospitality. I hope you will spare some time to speak with the delegation before we leave.” To his warriors he says, “I look forward to marching with you, and facing our mutual enemies.”

Chief Rahk replies, “There will be a time for discussions proper to times of peace when peace has prevailed. I thank you for your courtesy and patience.”

Indranil rises and to no one in particular says he plans to head back to the Javan Queen for some tea, a smoke, and a bit of peace on his favorite spot atop the deck house contemplating the river.

Gar gets up as well and bows deeply to the Chief and Ragnbjorn, “Until tomorrow milords.” Then he too heads back to the boat.

In Book I Prince Prospero, Keoland’s military governor of the town of Westkeep, learned that the Malarat tribe of lizardfolk were on the verge of declaring war against the citizens of Westkeep if their fishermen continued to overfish and block the bayous with their nets. Through the work of his mistress of spies, Lady Sedara, he also learned that two young men named Reece (son of the alchemist Parwyn) and Relikez (an artist) had gone into the marshes some years before hunting for the ruins of an ancient city named Thracia in order to rouse the Thracian death god named Thanatos against the Scarlet Brotherhood who had invaded the Hold of the Sea Princes including Westkeep.

Prince Prospero requested that Fingol, one of the King’s Rangers, and Gar, a Flan priest of Obad-Hai, help to negotiate a settlement with the Malarat and find out what they can about Thracia and the cult of Thanatos. To help them, he summoned Fingol’s father Ragnbjorn, a senior ranger and friend of Chief Rhodophylax (aka Rahk) of the Malarat, and the Marinus brothers. The Marinus brothers are two half-elves from the Dreadwood. The senior, Indranil, is a member of the King’s Rangers. The junior, Lorindel, is a member of the Scout Corp. Prince Propsero also intended to order a squadron of the Guard to go with them and provide security. Among the brave members of the Guard is Aramek, a young half-elf sorcerer from Keoland; Rain, a young woman of Westkeep who had been secretly recruited and trained as a spy by Lady Sedara and then assigned to work with the Guard; and Noch, a mysterious mercenary who rouses the supicions of Gar and Fingol when he displays a skill and ruthlessness surpassing all the other Guard members but then seems to throw a fight to Rain during a practice bout.

In Book II after a deadly riot of the Olman tribals (former slaves of the Sea Princes and then the Scarlet Brotherhood who still live impoverished conditions) that engulfs Westkeep is quelled, the Prince finally sends out Fingol, Gar, Ragnbjorn, and the others aboard a keelboat named the Javan Queen. On the way to the territory of the Malarat they discover that the trading post of Cypress Hill has been razed and its people either killed or carried off by Amedi worshippers of Thanatos known as Deathwalkers. Only a single survivor is found, a young girl named Adelina who goes by the nickname Newt. They are then ambushed by a fleet of Deathwalker canoes and warcanoes, but are saved by the timely arrival of Chief Rahk and the Malarat.

Before negotiations with Chief Rahk can begin, Noch makes two attempts to kill Ragnbjorn and pin the blame on the lizardfolk. He is foiled, killed, and discovered to be a hired assassin. The head of the Fishmonger’s Guild, Master Ailil, is later revealed by Fingol, Gar, and Ragnbjorn as the mastermind of the plot to assassinate Ragnbjorn and sabotage any treaty with the lizardfolk. Ragnbjorn cuts off Master Ailil’s hand in a duel. Ailil is arrested and put aboard the Javan Queen in chains. His hand is eaten by Ragnbjorn during a ceremonial feast in order to honor Malarat cutsoms. Though Ragnbjorn and Fingol are disturbed that the Malarat are feasting on the corpses of the Deathwalkers, Gar revels in the cannibalism of their human enemies by the lizardfolk and his descent into madness begins.

Newt, in the meantime, is made a probationary member of the Guard. The Marinus brothers, Rain, Aramek, and a lizardfolk named Oro are detailed to bring her back to her family cottage to see if there is any sign of her parents. They do not find her parents but they do have to fight and kill a small group of Deathwalkers. In the cottage they discover a mysterious chest of gold and other treasures, including a set of clothes made of shift-weave that can magically change into a ball-gown, fancy court clothes for a nobleman, a traveler’s outfit, a peasant dress, or even a simple tunic and breeches. They also find themselves the target of a scrying spell. They hastily return to the Javan Queen.

Unbeknownst to the others, Newt is actually not a girl or even human, but a doppelganger as are her parents. The treasure belonged to her parents when they lived in the Yeomanry League and they brought it with them when they fled there to live in obscurity in the Hool Marshes. The scrying was actually Newt’s bungled attempts to read the surface thoughts of her companions.

Back at the Javan Queen, it is decided that further negotiations will be postponed until the Deathwalker threat has been dealt with. To that end, Fingol proposes an alliance between the Guard unit and the Malarat to hunt down the rest of the Deathwalkers who destroyed Cypress Hill and have been conducting raids against the Malarat.

It is at this point that book three begins.

Away Team, Sunday Morning, Fireseek 9, 591 Common Year

Lorindel is told that night about Aramek’s discovery and Rain is informed in the morning.

Newt gets up before any of the sleeping folk, washes and makes herself as pretty as possible (she expects that she’ll need to be as charming as possible) and starts making breakfast. She decides not to put on the leather armor until later, hoping to present a more trusting and trustworthy image.

She also changes the shift-weave clothing to the farm girl’s dress. Although she doesn’t draw attention to this change, she is hoping to distract them, at least for a short time, from her own innate magic.  When Aramek says something about it she looks down at the dress and says (with her best feigned surprise), “Oh! I hardly noticed – I just awoke and got to work. This dress is akin to what I would normally wear at home.”

While Indranil speaks to Rain out on the porch, Xalakae tries to scan her to learn what Rain was told and how she feels about that information, but Rain sense her mental presence and she is shut out of Rain’s thoughts.

Rain says in response to Indranil, “Hmm… does Aramek think this is something on her or Newt herself?” Before Indranil can answer, Rain suddenly gets a puzzled look on her face and says, “Wait… what the hell was that? I just felt a tingle pass over me. Who’s on watch?” She suddenly crouches low and starts scanning all around.

“Rain, what did you feel?” asks Indranil in concern.

Rain replies quietly, still scanning the jungle around her, “A tingling, then I fought it off. I think somebody was trying to magic me.”

Indranil responds, ”I did not know you had magical affinity Rain. That is good to know.  You run deep! Can you tell the intent of the magic? Evil or good? This is the second time this has happened. It occurred last night, as I was telling Aramek what I just told you. He was not alarmed, but now to hear you feel the same thing I am wary.”

Rain answers, “Well I am a bit alarmed. I’m not quite as used to it as Aramek. I think I will ask him about it.”

She asks Aramek to join them outside then asks him, “I just felt like I was touched by some sort of magic a few minutes ago. It was like a tingly feeling that I batted away with my mind, but this concerns me. Indranil says you felt something similar last night, what do you make of it?”

Newt steps outside with the others, as if to join a non-suspicious group conversation that she’s been left out of, and as if she doesn’t know what they are discussing. “Did any of you just feel that - something tingly passing through your body?”

Rain smirks, “Aramek, what the hells is this?

Indranil says, ”People, I need to know two things right now. Are we under attack? And, do we have the ability to ward ourselves?”

Aramek answers, “Well, this is the sign of a spell or supernatural power being used on someone when it is felt and shaken off. If the spell had worked, the person it was cast on would be none the wiser if it had no obvious effects, but when such a spell is felt and rejected, the person it was cast on feels a bit of a tingle. This is also something anyone would feel – not just those attuned to magical forces. It is not necessarily an attack. It could be someone scrying on us or this location.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” admits Lorindel.

Rain asks, “Scrying? Like what, they can see and hear everything we are doing?”

“Something like that, yes.” replies Aramek.

Newt jumps in again, “Wait… scrying, like spying but with magic? Who is spying on us? Who would want to?”

Indranil asks Aramek, “Can you create a ward for us to block this? I agree with Lorindel and like this not. If we can’t ward ourselves then I recommend we pack up and depart back to the rendezvous point immediately and return with Father Gar and additional troops.”

Newt, becoming alarmed, says, ”Go back? But didn’t Sir Ragnbjorn instruct us to go on and find my parents if they weren’t here? We’ve searched, and they aren’t here, so we must go up the Hool River to find them! Even Father Gar said, ‘time is of the essence.’ “

Indranil responds, “We would only go back to get additional reinforcements. We would then return. Our mission remains to find your parents. But we must do it safely. If Aramek cannot ward us then I believe we should leave. We know not who is scrying us and for what purpose. But using magic on us without our knowledge and permission is not a friendly action. Aramek can you ward us?”

Aramek shakes his head, “Unfortunately that is not a kind of magic that I have.”

Indranil says, “Okay people - are there any objections to packing up and returning to the rendezvous point immediately? As I said, we will return.”

Newt turns to go inside and load up, and then turns back. “What should we do with the chest? We shouldn’t leave it out. Can you help me re-hide it?”

Rain says, “Just a thought: what about sending Lorindel back and we continue for a day, as planned. If we are still getting scryed then we turn around and head back.”

Indranil says, ”I do not want to split the party, especially when we may be under observation from unknown sources. Unfortunately, even if Adelina’s parents had been at the cottage with all the rain the past couple of days and all the Deathwalkers tramping around their trail has long since been washed away. Unless Adelina has some revelation we have no idea which way to go nor a hot trail to follow. I believe the best thing to do is return with Sir Ragnbjorn, Father Gar, and the Watch and start looking for sign of them with sufficient force protection to assure our safety. Let’s pack up Adelina’s gold and spread it across our packs. The weapons and armor we will pack into a blanket and strap to a long pole and take turns carrying amongst two of us. We can drop it if attacked. Let’s be about it. I want to leave in 30 minutes. “

Rain says, “Will do,” turns and begins wrapping things up.

Newt steps inside to finish loading up, changes into clothes suitable for traveling and dons the bothersome leather armor again.

“I’ll begin making ready for the return trip,” says Lorindel. “I am, however, concerned about the weight of the coins. I’m nearly beyond my limits with only my gear.”

After pausing for a moment, Lorindel thinks out loud to no one in particular, “Perhaps I can rig up some kind of drawstring that will allow me to drop the added pounds at a moment’s notice.” He then does so.

“I can take a larger share,” Rain offers, “even with my pack I can move freely right now.”

Newt makes sure she’s the first one ready when Indranil starts getting everyone in position. “All set, Sir Indranil” says Newt with a smile.

Indranil smiles warmly and places his hand on Adelina’s shoulder in a comforting gesture saying, “Fear not fair Adelina, we shall return and then find your parents.”

The weather that day proves to be sunny and clear with only moderate winds. In fact, it is a very pleasant day for a walk and there are no incidents. Indranil and his team reach the hidden canoes at Cypress Hill and paddle back over to the Javan Queen by noontime.

Indranil reports, “Sir Ragnbjorn! We have returned. We had a spot of trouble with a squad of Amedi Deathwalkers who were lying in wait for Adelina’s return. I narrowly escaped with my life. We captured quite a cache of weapons and a highly unusual set of full armor. We also found a large chest of gold and silver coins magically hidden under the floor of Adelina’s home. We then came under some magical scrying and decided to return here until we could discuss with you. We hope to return to the cottage with all of you for a complete reinforced scouting.”

“Great work,” says Gar quietly, though not to anyone in particular.

“The young lady’s parents are shaping up to quite the conundrum.” Fingol observes.

Aramek breaks in, “Actually, it wasn’t that the treasure was magically hidden. It was just buried in front of Newt’s hearth. It held some of Newt’s parents’ things, including magical clothing, and that is how I picked up on the fact that it was there. Rain dug it up and disarmed the poison needle trap on it and then opened the lock. Newt is wearing the clothing now.” Aramek glances at Newt. “Strange though, it had been a peasant’s shirt and breech before, then a skirt this morning, and now it seems to be clothes for a traveler. I guess we know what it does now. It apparently can become whatever kind of clothing is needed. As for the gear we collected from the Deathwalker’s, only the leader’s everburning torch was magical. The rest of it was just masterwork quality or regular arms and armor.”

Indranil says, “Let’s get the coins collected and back in the chest and have the captain lock it in his cabin for safe keeping until we can return to Westkeep where it  can be secured in a bank. Oror, thank you very much for carrying the chest for us.”

“Yes!” Pipes in Fingol, “I hope we can return these things to their rightful owners. Or ensure that it goes to Newt.” 

Indranil affirms, “Of course the coins are Adelina’s!”

Indranil asks Ragnbjorn, “What has happened while we were away? It seems you all too have a tale to tell.”

An evil smile spreads over Gar’s face, one filled with satisfaction, but he says nothing.

Ragnbjorn responds, “We all took an oath to negotiate in good faith. Master Ailil had an issue with that. He felt his honor was affronted. We had a duel and I won, and he lost his hand. He then admitted, as per the terms of the duel, that he had hired Noch to kill me and was in league with Nerull. He is now in chains in the hold of the Javan Queen. The hand was… disposed of in accordance with the traditions of the lizardfolk.” He says this last looking off into the distance. “Last night a feast was held for us and we should be able to proceed with the negotiations after the problem with the Deathwalkers has been dealt with.”

“If I may,” Fingol begins, “We didn’t find such a rich haul as you, but we may have a few things to add to Rain’s lists. Father Gar, my father, and I found a way to deal with Ailil. In addition, it had the benefit of gauging whether his ill will toward the lizardfolk was shared by the rest of the delegation. Simply put, Father Gar volunteered to cast another spell such as Newt agreed to submit to. Of course, we were more forceful in this case. Once they were under the spell, we administered an oath. Ailil took the oath, but when I asked questions about his plans regarding the negotiations he balked. That’s when my father asked Ailil if he had hired Noch. That’s when the most amazing thing happened. Ailil, actually challenged Sir Ragnbjorn to a duel! The idea was ridiculous. Imagine, treating him as a gentleman! And yet, my father indulged him in this on the condition that Ailil make full confession. And the two fought here on the riverbank, in the circle of honor before all of us. The match was a bit more exciting than you might at first imagine. Ailil, evidently, was a trained duelist. Still, the fight didn’t last long, and ended when my father cut Ailil’s right hand off his arm! So ends the storied carreer of Ailil the master swordsman, traitor, murder and fishmonger. I held Ailil to his word, and he told all of his treachery. When Chief Rahk heard the confession, he agreed to negotiate with the remaining members of the delegation. And I have hope that some good will come of all this. A great feast was held last night, and I confess that I was in high spirits after all that happened.”

A little later in the deckhouse they look over all that has been gained over the last two days from Noch, Ailil, and the Deathwalkers.

“It’s a shame no one’s getting any use of that fine chainmail shirt of Ailil’s,” Fingol notes in an arched expression.

Ragnbjorn smiles, “Perhaps you would like wear it until we get back to Westkeep. After all, it was your plan that uncovered Master Ailil’s plotting. Also, I am thinking that you will need it on this foray against the Deathwalkers that Chief Rahk wants us to join in on. As for myself, I am thinking that I should take a couple of guardsmen and escort our prisoner back to Westkeep. Adelina should come back to Westkeep with me. We won’t be able to look for her parents until the Deathwalkers are cleared out, and if her parents are being held captive by them, we’ll rescue them. There’s no use endangering her by dragging her into a battle like the one Chief Rahk has in mind.”

As persuasively as she can, Newt pleads with Sir Ragnbjorn, “But I can’t go to Westkeep until I’ve found my parents! Oh, please, milord, don’t send me there yet! I’m sure I can be of help. I’ve lived and worked here most my life, and I know these swamps well. I can take them through much of the waterways. Only don’t send me away ’til my parents’ fate is known!”

Gar nods his head up and down and turns to Sir Ragnbjorn, “Obad-Hai would agree, I do believe, milord.”

Ragnbjorn glances and Gar and considers. “Hmm, yes, it’s true she may be of more value here. We’ll discuss this tonight after supper.”

Newt excuses herself to stow her gear. While below deck she sets up her pack so it’s ready for her to sneak away from the keelboat and join any away team on the raid.

Indranil asks, “You kill it you get dibs right? I would like the everburning torch we picked up from the Deathwalkers. Other than that they had nothing I need. I think Adelina had her eye on the daggers. Sir Ragnbjorn, how do you want to handle the booty?”

Ragnbjorn replies with a laugh, “Well, yes, that is generally how it works. However, in this case Adelina’s parents’ treasure is of course hers or rather her parents when we find them. So there is no need to discuss that. As for the things taken from Noch, Ailil, and the Deathwalkers, we will use whatever will be useful until all of us are back at Westkeep. Then all of it will be sold and the proceeds divided up among us and the Watch according to shares. If anyone wants to keep a particular item, they can buy it back out of their share. Usually these things are sold used for half their retail value and so they can be bought with the share money for that price as well.”

“A wise plan,” Indranil agrees.

Rain speaks up and says to Sir Ragnbjorn “I would be happy to look after that rapier till we return,” and smiles widely.

“If you think you can use it, be my guest,” says Ragnbjorn handing Rain the rapier.

With a big smile Rain says, “Thanks”, so lost in awe of holding a magical weapon that she completely forgets to add ‘Sir Ragnbjorn.’ She spends the next hour or so practicing maneuvers with rapier and shortsword.

Indranil says, “I like Noch’s magic bow. It came in handy. I would like to buy it.”

Rain walks over to Gar and smiling asks, “Looks like you all had some fun with Alili, what happened?”

Gar smiles back and says, “I engaged in the needless affliction of gratuitous pain in the name of revenge. It was most satisfying.”

Indranil heads over to the Javan Queen to seek tools to repair his armor which took quite a beating. While there he washes his clothes which were covered in ichors and grime, and takes a bath in the river. Once he is cleaned and repaired he wanders over to Lorindel and says, “Brother, let’s go talk to Sir Fingol. I think there was much more to their adventures than they let on. I am especially interested in what Father Gar did.”

The Marinus brothers and Fingol finally get a chance to speak down on the bank of the river. “Well, I suppose my exposition was more an attempt at humor than at explanation.” Fingol begins, with a bit of apology. “After you left, Sir Ragnbjorn, Father Gar, and I met with Chief Rahk and agreed to accompany his warriors on a raid. The Deathwalkers use shrines as outposts to organize their raids against the lizardfolk. Chief Rahk wants to dislodge the Deathwalkers from one of these.  I agreed, believing it would strengthen the goodwill between Westkeep and the lizardfolk. 

“After this, we came back to the ship and reviewed Captain Olnut’s charts. We were discussing where the city of Father Gar’s vision might be. According to the vision, the city is built at the base of 300′ cliffs. This would be a highly unusual feature in the Hool Marsh! We finally decided, it must be located somewhere in the region where the foothills of the Tors tumble into the Marsh. It was during this discussion that I suggested to Sir Ragnbjorn that he rethink his decision to make me his second. I wished to focus on the diplomatic situation, and you are my senior in rank. Father agreed, and so while I may ask you to achieve objectives you will be in command of the task force under Sir Ragnbjorn,” Fingol  bows slightly, “I will do all that is in my power to support your command, and have every trust that you will do all to ensure success in pursuing alliance with the lizardfolk.

“All this talk eventually led to discussion of what we should do to prepare for military operations in the marsh. Father Gar was strongly against sending the delegation back without some attempt at diplomacy. I was at first reluctant, because Ailil has been very vocal in his desire to antagonize the lizardfolk further. Father Gar pointed out that he could cast another truth spell, but we were uncertain how this blessing might be used. I decided that I would start with an oath affirming that all of us, the nobles and delegates, would perform the task Prince Prospero assigned us in good faith. Somehow Ailil was able to take this oath falsely. It was at this point my father accused Ailil of hiring Noch. Ailil demanded to defend his honor – as if he had any – in a duel. This was laughable, but my father agreed provided Ailil swore to make full confession.

The duel, as I said, was not dull but neither was it long. Ailil has been taking training with the Eberhard Academy of the Sea Princes. His training afforded him the ability to land a few minor hits with the flimsy little weapon Rain is playing with over there,” Fingol points at her, with an air of dismissal toward what he sees as the glorified toothpick. “He may have been a fine duelist but when his hand was cut off the fight was done. I then held Ailil to his word, and Cheif Rahk was satisfied that we had found the evil in the delegation and rooted it out. He has agreed to talk to the remaining members before we leave for the raid. For their part, Fishbate, speaking for all, affirmed that they have no desire for trouble between themselves and the lizardfolk. I have every hope that some agreement can be worked out based on that sentiment. 

After all this, the lizardfolk hosted us in a great feast. I must admit that I was a bit nervous of the meat dishes, as we did not see what happened to the Deathwalkers… The greatest shock to me was what was done with Ailil’s severed hand. This was treated as a great trophy. It was prepared in a stew for my father, duty and diplomacy demanded he consume it! Afterward, the bones were taken and I do believe these will be given to Father Gar. But there were many delicious dishes of marsh fruits and vegtables. The fermented juices were excellent as well. So all in all, Cheif Rahk’s people are excellent hosts. I think we all enjoyed ourselves, and perhaps too much!”

“I suppose that leaves us with many of the same questions. I have committed some number of our task force to support Chief Rahk’s raid. And it would appear that you will command this force, as my father has decided to accompany the delegation back to Westkeep and ensure that Ailil does not escape justice. How many other men you will send back, and what material you will keep here has yet to be determined. Whatever number of men you keep, I will ask Chief Rahk to keep us as a unit. I believe our guardsmen will be more effective fighting in their own unit, and there may yet be ill will between the folk of Westkeep and the folk they call “snakeskins.” I don’t care to risk that.

“Beyond this, I believe that the delegates should go back after discussions with Cheif Rahk, which I hope will be held with haste, along with the prisoner and my father. 

“The treasures we have won, save those that have been put to use, should be sent back. We will be travelling for some time in the marsh and we don’t need excess weight at this point.

As for the young girl, I think she should come with us. According to Father Gar’s visions, she may have insights into the Deathwalkers and where they may be found. Her memories and insights will not be triggered in Westkeep. If we are to find her parents quickly enough to save them, we will need her. But these decisions are ultimately yours, Sir Indranil.”

Indranil says, “Sir Fingol. Thank you for your confidence in me. It was not my wish to become our expedition’s leader. I will do my best to honor your trust by leading you all with honor and integrity. However, I cannot do this alone nor do I wish to lead by edict alone. I see us three as the officers of this expedition and I need your wise council and advice. There may be times when I have to make a split decision and do so without consulting you first, but I will make it a practice to include all of us in important strategic decisions. Is that Okay with both of you?”

“It is my preference, Sir Indranil.” Fingol affirms.

Indrnail continues, “I want to share with you something that I have noted since we first arrived at Cypress Hill Outpost and on our scouting mission to Adelina’s home in the Hool: she is a young human woman of great beauty that on the surface appears to be no more than a commoner. However, I am inclined to think she is not what she appears and may in fact have magic affinity, in fact a potential sorceress. I do not believe she even knows this herself. In many ways she has led a sheltered existence in the Hool far away from civilization. Her parents clearly are not what they seem. The chest of coins we found alone tells us they are rich beyond their appearance and I think have been hiding out in the Hool, from what I know not. She is also the key to accomplishing our mission of securing peace in the Hool and I think it worth our effort to nurture, mentor and guide her development. On our mission to her home I had Guardsman Rain become her body guard and teacher. They get along well and I would like to continue that relationship if you two agree.”

Very good,” agrees Fingol.

“Lastly, having Rain be responsible for her keeps her away from Father Gar, whose intentions I do not fully trust, and I believe could be a negative influence on her at this critical stage of her development. We will need Father Gar’s instruction and assistance – I just want it filtered through Rain and us first. I never want them alone. Is that clear?”

“Were Newt a young boy, I might be more concerned. But I will keep my eyes open.” Fingol consents.

“I have expressed my concerns about Adelina,” admits Lorindel, but I agree – there’s something more than meets the eye. As for the rest of the mission, I’ll follow your lead.”

Gar walks over to Rain as she practices with her new rapier. “Milady, I could not help but notice your acrobatic abilities. I would like to become more acrobatic as well, if you would not mind teaching me some tricks. May I join you in practice?” he asks as he bows low to her.

Rain responds, “I would be happy to… as long as you stop bowing to me.” She smiles at this. “So what do you want to learn? A little tumbling maybe?”

“No promises, milady, because you are worthy of great respect, but tumbling would be good. Although since you are practicing with your new toy, perhaps you can make me dance for joy with it?” Gar cocks his eye in query.

He continues, “Ultimately, I want to incorporate acrobatics into my fire breathing and air magic. But I need practice.”

Rain laughs “Okay, let’s start with a basic tumble. It can be done with weapons, either in hand or on your body, but let’s start with just you and your body.” Rain strips off her weapons so she is in pants, shirt and boots alone then indicates for Gar to do the same. She then shows him a basic forward tumble, and how to protect the neck in doing so. After practicing this for a bit she shows him how to do side and then running forward tumbles.

After practicing these three basic moves for about an hour she says, “Excellent, now just practice those for an hour or so every day for a week and then I’ll show you some more,” and smiles.

Newt comes back to the riverbank and follows Gar’s and Rain’s example. She takes the long spear and practices some basic strikes. She continues this activity a great while although probably not all that long to a warrior’s eye. When she finally finishes she does some stretches and rubs her sore joints, still tender from lessons Indranil and Rain gave her.

 

Fingol and Gar, Starday Evening, Fireseek 8, 591 Common Year

When Ragnbjorn and Gar are ready, Fingol looks for the delegates and asks them to gather in the deckhouse. Master Ailil and the three others come along and Ragnbjorn asks Captain Olnut to please keep everyone else out of the deckhouse for a while. Master Ailil and the three alderman look at Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and Gar expectantly. Gar smiles silently at them and looks to Fingol to lead off.

Fingol tries hard to look relaxed. “Goodmen, Master Ailil may have shared with you that the lizardfolk are reluctant to start negotiations. Fortunately, they are coming here again this evening, and this may provide us,” he indicates Ragnbjorn, Gar, and himself, “a chance to present your positions. If so, perhaps your time and effort in coming here will not have to be wasted. Since we cannot send you back to Westkeep until the scouting party returns, I am eager to see some progress. Father Gar will offer a short prayer that will ask his god to ensure honest talk between us, and we will all of us take a short oath affirming that we will faithfully discharge the duties Prince Prospero charged us with.”

Gar begins, “Gentlemen, so there are no surprises at what I am about to do, I am now going to cast a truth spell so that we all may know the other is speaking truthfully. Agreed?”

Master Ailil looks affronted, “Oh I say! How dare you impugn our honor in this way?”

Ragnbjorn says firmly, “We will all be subject to Father Gar’s spell. If you do not have anything to hide then you have nothing to worry about do you? I know I don’t. I am not taking this as an affront to my honor. Why should you?”

Master Ailil glares at Ragnbjorn and then with a sour look and a wave says, “Very well. Do what you must.”

Ragnbjorn smiles grimly. He turns to Gar and Fingol saying, “Proceed gentlemen.”

Gar casts the spell, and Fingol then leads everyone in saying the following oath:

“I swear upon my honor and good name;

That I will serve the prince in this negotiation faithfully,

Seeking a lasting peace,

To benefit the people of Westkeep,

With fairness for the lizardfolk of the Hool Marsh.”

Gar and Fingol can see, however, that while the other three simply say the oath, Master Ailil grits his teeth but then relaxes and goes through with it, though he has the faintest hint of a self-satisfied smile on his face at the end of it. Somehow he has either resisted the effects of the spell or thought of a way of evading its plain meaning or otherwise finding some benefit from it.

Flanking Fingol, Gar tries to be relaxed. He holds his hands in front of himself, with his right hand on top of his left wrist and his right thumb resting on top of his concealed dagger hilt.

Fingol notes that Gar is looking daggers at Ailil, and in fact seems ready to grab his concealed dagger and lunge at him. Do it! thinks Fingol loudly.

Gar catches Fingol watching him and accurately interprets his look and thinks, Soon enough, milord, soon enough…

“Thank you all,” Fingol says, “Now, I would like to ask you a few questions to get started. Do you seek to negotiate a peaceful settlement with the lizardfolk?”

Ailil, “Hold on! I just gave my oath. That should be good enough for you. I do not consent to be interrogated like some common criminal!” The other delegates hesitantly nod in agreement with Ailil.

“I am asking you questions to get to the heart of what you want. Answer them!”

Ragnbjorn draws his sword, puts it to Ailil’s throat and says, “Never mind this! I have a question for Master Ailil! Did you hire Noch to kill me?”

Master Ailil’s eyes bug out and he spits out, “N…no! I certainly did not! How dare you accuse me of such treachery?”

Gar and Fingol can both see that somehow Ailil is lying through his teeth.

The other three delegates have all backed away and look as though they might bolt out of the deckhouse. The three of them are quaking in fear, though Ailil himself is outraged but not afraid.

Ragnbjorn without taking his eyes from Ailil asks Gar, “Is it possible to resist the spell Father Gar?”

“Yes sir, it is possible and I believe likely,” he replies with a wicked smirk on his face as he steps forward and removes the dagger from Ailil’s belt.

Using Ailil’s own blade, Gar nicks Ailil’s face to watch the blood trickle.

“It’s obvious to us all he is lying,” Fingol growls, “But put down that dagger, Father Gar. I want him sent back to Westkeep to face charges without a single blemish… save what the shackles do.”

Gar slowly slides the blade down Ailil’s body. Pointing the dagger at Ailil’s belly now, Gar says, “Oh, there will be no marks when I’m finished, milord.” Then Gar steps back and stares silently at Ailil, no longer smiling.

Fingol says, “Father, you should give thought to going also. I’d hate to see this accomplished liar squirm his way out of these accusations because no one was there to answer him.”

Turning to the other guildsmen, Fingol reads their shocked expressions. “And you? Were any of you aware of this plot?” Gar turns to watch their body language as well. They vigorously shake their heads in denial and step away from Ailil.

Fingol softens his expression. ”I thought not.”

Ailil says in a cool even voice with his eyes fixed on Ragnbjorn, “How could I be lying? Didn’t this good priest cast a spell to prevent it? And yet you continue to impugn my honor. I demand satisfaction!”

“You are no gentleman!” growls Ragnbjorn, “You have no right to challenge me to a duel! Don’t think your filthy wealth puts you on our level.”

Ailil snorts, “Typical. And you High and Mighties claim to be better than the Scarlet Brotherhood. I see I have already been tried and convicted by all of you and that you will not even allow me to fight for my honor. Fine! Hang me from the yardarm then and have done with it!”

Fingol is tempted to say that he will be sent to Westkeep to stand trial, but stays quiet. He’s tempted by the thought of Ailil swinging in the breeze. 

Gar softly growls his agreement and then touches his pendant to call upon Obad-Hai to detect for poison in the room but he senses none.

Ragnbjorn says to Fingol, “I will grant him this. Fingol, please go down and bring Master Ailil his rapier. Gar, you will stand ready to heal us when the duel is over. If I win, Master Ailil, you go back in chains to Westkeep and furthermore you will tell us everything you know about Noch and how you contacted him. If you win, we will simply send you back to Westkeep and I will inform the Prince Governor that we had suspicions but that you proved your honor. Is that satisfactory to you?”

Ailil licks his lips and looks away from Ragnbjorn. After considering for a moment he says, “Yes, that will satisfy me. You are most gracious milord.” He almost says this last without sneering.

In shock, Fingol blurts out, “Father, this is better than he deserves!”

Fingol goes to get the rapier. He checks it and the scabbard over thoroughly for any tricks. Then he gets his own swords. He brings them to the deckhouse. “Father Gar, I checked these over but perhaps your prayers will give you greater insight.”

Gar casts detect poison on the rapier but now doubts that he’ll sense anything untoward and he doesn’t. Once again he kicks himself for not preparing his spell to detect magic that morning.

Fingol puts the rapier on the table holding the charts.

Ragnbjorn indicates to Ailil that he can take up his sword. “Go ahead, take your sword and go to the circle of honor on the riverbank. I will meet you there.”

Ailil takes the rapier and heads out swiftly for the riverbank. The other three delegates look to Ragnbjorn, not sure of what they should do.

“Go on,” he says to them. “You might as well have a ringside seat.”

The three practically stumble over each other bowing to Ragnbjorn and backing away out of the deckhouse.

The sun is close to setting when all have gathered at the circle of honor on the riverbank. Its boundaries are marked by the four everburning torch topped poles and several stones that the lizardfolk added. Chief Rahk and his bodyguard have returned and Ragnbjorn informs him of what is to happen. The chief nods in approval. He and his lizardfolk spread themselves around one half of the circle’s perimeter. Sgt. Apone and his men as well as Captain Olnut and his men range themselves around the other half of the perimeter. Fingol escorts his father to the circle. Gar follows them, and makes sure to confer Obad-Hai’s resistance to injury to Ragnbjorn before he enters the circle. Ragnbjorn allows Ailil to wear a helmet taken from one of the guardsmen. He and Ailil then enter the circle on opposite side.

Ailil says, “You have made a mistake Sir Ragnbjorn. I am a fencing master of the Eberhard Academy of the Sea Princes. We are devotees of Kelanen the Sword Saint. Your sword and board methods are no match for us!”

Ragnbjorn laughs, “Ha! I learned to fight in the school of hard knocks fighting trolls in the Dreadwood! We’ll see how your fancy techniques match up against those of a real fighter!”

With swords raised they salute one another and drop into defensive postures. Sgt. Apone, as agreed, shouts, “Begin!”

Ailil springs forward lunging and thrusting with his rapier, but Ragnbjorn nimbly moves back out of range and then lashes out with a blow to Ailil’s helm. Seizing the initiative, Ragnbjorn strikes Ailil in the hand, but Ailil manages to keep hold of his rapier and counterattacks. Ragnbjorn blocks it with his shield and backs away before Ailil can strike again. Ailil pursues but then Ragnborn is on him again, and once more cuts into Ailil’s swordhand. Ailil grimaces in pain from the bloody wound but counterattacks fiercely. He manages to get past Ragnbjorn’s shield to stab him in the chest, but is unable to pierce Ragnbjorn’s mithril mail. He does manage to poke Ragnbjorn in the right arm, but it is only a flesh wound. Ailil lunges again and this time the point of his sword does slip through the mail. The wound is not mortal however, and as Ailil pulls away Ragnbjorn cleaves off his sword arm at the elbow. Ailil looks for a moment at the bloody stump that is left of his arm before falling to the ground as his lifeblood gushes away around him.

“Heal him Gar, I want him alive and in chains to answer to the Prince, but you needn’t knit the arm back on.” Ragnbjorn walks out of the circle as the lizardfolk hiss and thump their tails in approval and Captain Olnut, Uglash, the Olman crew of the Javan Queen, Sgt. Apone and his watch also cheer. The three delegates continue to look nervous and clap tepidly as they wonder if they will be the next ones to be sacrificed for the pleasure of the nobles and the entertainment of the lizardfolk.

Fingol looks greatly pleased, but rushing over to congratulate his father might be unseemly. So he secures the rapier, wiping it clean. 

Gar loudly intones, “Om!” to heal both Ragnbjorn and Ailil, and then walks over to pick up the hand, and holds it high in the air saying in Draconic, “Finger food, anyone?” He repeats this in Keolandish.

Chief Rahk beckons to Gar indicating that he will take the hand. In Draconic Chief Rahk says to Gar, “We will boil it and offer the meat to Ragnbjorn in commemoration of his victory over his enemy. The bones we will make into a fetish which you may have if you wish.”

Gar offers the duelist’s stub with both hands and a bow to show his respect. “Thank you Chief. That would be wonderful.” Then he licks the blood off his fingers and smiles again.

Fingol’s eyes go wide, and he looks to his father. No way is he going to eat that!  Fingol is less certain about Father Gar who seems to be enjoying all of this a bit too much.

Turning to Ailil, Fingol puts the point of the rapier up to the traitor’s neck. ”You swore to tell all about hiring Noch to sabotage the negotiations and assassinate Sir Ragnbjorn. Do so now, so all may hear! Tell us all how you hoped to create a war between the lizardfolk and Westkeep against the express wishes of your Prince!”

Ailil, cradling his hand that has now stopped bleeding, snarls at first, but then looks around. He looks like a hunted animal that the hounds have finally cornered. He gulps and says, “Yes, I sought the services of Nerull! So that we of Westkeep could take back what is ours! Our city! Our river! Our marshes! I am done with bowing my head to conquerors and signing away what is ours! Kill me and have done with it!” He then flings himself onto the point of the rapier, but his chainmail prevents it from penetrating his heart and he only succeeds in falling to his knees. He glares up defiantly at Fingol and the others.

Fingol stabs the point of the sword into the dirt and turns to the lizardfolk. In Draconic he addresses the assembled warriors and their chief, “Chief Rhodophylax, you were right to hold back from the negotiations. But now we have found the traitor. He has confessed his crime. Can we sit and discuss terms for peace?”

Chief Rahk, still holding the bloody trophy from the duel, points Ailil’s dead finger at the other three delegates and asks in Draconic, “What about them? Can you trust them? Will they negotiate in good faith?”

Gar translates for the three representatives, “The Chief wants to know if you will negotiate with them in good faith.”

Fingol says to Chief Rahk, “They had nothing at all to do with this.” He walks over to the three remaining members of the delegation and says, “You have an opportunity to negotiate for peace with the lizardfolk. I know you don’t want to take on this responsibility, but your friends, your families may suffer, may die, for your temerity. Take this chance.”

For once Fishbate speaks in a subdued tone, “Sir Fingol, you are correct. We knew nothing of this one’s plans,” he indicates Ailil. “We’re just simple fishermen, shrimpers, and crabbers. We don’t want trouble with anyone: not with you Keolanders, not with the lizardfolk, and not with the Scarlet Brotherhood. If you can help us come to some arrangement with the sna… I mean with Chief Rahk and his tribe that will allow us to do our jobs in peace, than we’re for it.” He looks to the other two, “Am I right?” They nod in the affirmative.

Chief Rahk licks his lips, a sign that he is pleased. “This is promising. Tomorrow we can talk about such things more. We must also make plans to drive the Amedi out of the marshes or there will be no peace for any of us. Tonight, however, we feast.”

Gar smiles, pleased with the day’s events. Turning to Ragnbjorn, “Milord, are you still injured?”

Ragnbjorn says, “Not at all. I’ve never felt better. I think your powers of healing have indeed gotten stronger.”

Fingol says, “Not a bad day. It took a lot from each of us but look at what we have achieved!”

Gar smiles and nods silently at both their remarks. “Should we let stumpy Ailil walk around free, milords?” he asks.

“No perhaps not,” Fingol replies. “I’ll ask Sgt. Apone to help me with lefty. I will say this for him, I admire his defiance.” 

Fingol goes with Sgt. Apone to secure him. 

The feast that night is magnificent, all manner of fish and shellfish are served from the bounty of the Hool Marshes as well as various fermented fruit juices and rum. There are also more dubious meats served – succulent meats that have been marinated and then smoked for many hours that are very tempting – and yet the humans present politely decline – remembering that no one has seen what happened to the Deathwalkers who had been killed just the evening before.

Uglash, the First Mate of the Javan Queen, doesn’t seem so delicate and helps himself to the savory stews without any qualms – at one point making some remark to Captain Olnut about missing the home cooking of his own people. Captain Olnut can’t help but laugh but then shushes his old friend lest more delicate sensibilities be offended.

Gar does not share the same morals as the other humans, and tries a little of each dish as a good guest should. Like Uglash, he finds everything very tasty.

The fisherfolk eye the lizardfolk nervously and do not understand Draconic anyway. Still, they are polite and eat those things they are sure of and help themselves to the rum and other drinks.

Towards the end of the feast, the stewed hand of Ailil is presented with great ceremony to Ragnbjorn. Chief Rahk watches expectantly. With a grimace he accepts the offering. With a sidelong glance at Fingol he murmurs, “It would be very impolitic to refuse what they see as an honor. Being a good diplomat requires certain sacrifices. I should let you have a taste too. Hmm?” He then consumes the dish with as much feigned gusto as he can and then returns the bones to their hosts. Chief Rahk nods in satisfaction.

 

In the time it takes Lorindel to get the provisions and packs and return with the others Rain finds that the leader had a masterwork longsword, an everburning torch (always useful and worth 100 gold), and an unusual set of armor.

The armor is composed of large thick loops that hang loose and overlap to provide maximum protection though at the expense of movement. The armor also includes a large loop that covers the wearer’s neck, ears, and mouth. It ends right at the nose. The cap that goes with it is also metal, rounded and ends in a point at the back of the head. From this apex erupts a plumage of black feathers. Although the armor is bronze, the interlocking plates and reinforcements look like they would provide unusually good protection for armor made of such a weak metal.

The other weapons found are simply longspears, hand axes, and longbows. There are also sets of leather armor for each of the Deathwalkers besides the leader. In addition they had two 50′ coils of hemp rope, 36 torches, 5 bronze spikes, rations for 24 meals, 6 flagons of water, a flagon of weak wine, two bronze daggers, and a stone hammer in their packs.

Also, the Deathwalker who was wounded twice in the hand is not dead, he is still conscious though only able to move around a little. He moans feebly on the floor, cradling his hand and with his back against the wall.

Rain looks at the wounded Deathwalker and then turns back to Indranil and asks the question by slicing her hand across her neck.

Indranil nods his head and says, “Help him join his friends and then dump him with the others out back.”

After plunging her sword into the hapless Deathwalker’s heart, Rain refills her quiver of arrows from those available.

Back down the path, Lorindel explains to Aramek, Adelina (Newt), and Oro, “There was a group of Deathwalkers that had ransacked the cottage. We were able to vanquish them, but my brother was seriously wounded. He took a healing potion, but it was not sufficient for a full recovery. Indranil wants us all at the cottage, but I need some help retrieving the backpacks. Aramek, will you assist me?” asks Lorindel.

“Of course, Sir Lorindel. Is Sir Indranil stable enough while we retrieve our things?”

Lorindel confirms that Indranil is stable and before long the packs and provisions are retrieved and they all arrive at the cottage to find Indranil sitting on the front porch with his back to the wall and legs outstretched. He nods smiling weakly at Lorindel, Aramek, Adelina, and Oro appearing out of the gloom and rain. He knows he looks awful and must be a sight, being covered in blood – his own and his enemy’s – as he is.

He calls out, “Fair Adelina, welcome home my dear. Please come and sit with me for a moment, I can use your pleasant conversation while I rest.”

Indranil smiles warmly at his brother with respect in his eyes, his look conveying both brotherly love and pride in his brother’s actions during the combat. He says, “Brother, thank you for collecting the gear and bringing the party back here. Please go inside where you will find Rain and help her take some of the… ‘trash’ through the back door and stack it for tomorrow for burning. Take Oro with you as he is strong and can help lift and carry. Then you and Rain do a 360 degree scouting in the vicinity for any further threats and then return here. Plant a few sound traps at pathways. You can leave Oro at the back door on guard.

“Aramek, there are some interesting bits of armor and weapons we found. You will find them inside the cottage. Would you please examine them for magical properties? Some of it might be of great power and value. In particular there is a suit of armor I have never seen before that looks quite intriguing. However, before you go inside I need the two healing potions we got from Noch, for I am grievously wounded.

“Once you all have finished with those tasks please straighten up the cottage and make it presentable for Adelina, who will be outside with me until you are finished.”

“Adelina, I am most interested to hear all about your home here. Please tell me about it! What surrounds the cottage? Are there wonderful places to play and hide around here?”

“Yes, milord,” Newt responds, and begins telling stories about her life there, though trying to hide her disappointment that her parents are not there and her impatience to get back into her home. Despite Indranil’s attempts to shield her, she had already caught a glimpse of the broken front and back doors and the bloody shambles that her family cottage had become.

Indranil consumes both of Noch’s healing potions and within moments feels as good as new – though still covered in gore and his armor and helmet are in no better shape though still serviceable for the time being. He gives his own healing potion to Rain to replace the one she loaned him. He soon feels a warmth and tingling that spreads throughout his body and he begins to breathe easier. He closes his eyes a moment and lets the pain and tension slough away from him as he listens to the wind, rain, and sounds from within the cottage of heavy things being dragged and moved, murmurs of conversation and the clink and clank of armor and weapons. The sound of Newt’s voice is like a gentle babbling brook. He barely follows her exact words. With a startle he opens his eyes feeling so much better. ”Newt! I am sorry, please say that again? I must have dozed off a moment!” While listening to Newt retell parts of her story, he removes his armor and shirt to leave them in the rain to wash off most of the gore and cleans his weapons.

Lorindel and Rain dispose of the bodies and do their best to sweep out the blood and filthy soggy rushes from the cottage. They complete a thorough 360 degree scouting of the vicinity to make sure no more threats are in the immediate area. They find none, and so proceed to set up snares and sound traps.

While they are doing that Aramek looks the cottage over for magic while Oro guards the back door and Newt talks to Indranil on the front porch. He finds the everburning torch of course, but also a magical emanation from a spot that seems to be buried in front of the hearth.

Aramek indicates to Rain and Lorindel when they come back in that there is something magical buried by the hearth. Rain finds a trowel on tool shelf and begins digging up the area indicated by Aramek. Roughly a foot down she comes upon a locked treasure chest. Carefully she hauls it up and takes out the masterwork thieves’ tools given to her by Lady Sedara. Working on the lock she finds and bypasses a poison needle trap. That out of the way she works on the lock itself and within moments the chest is open to inspection. Inside, she finds hundreds of Freegold (gold coins minted in the Yeomany League) and thousands of silver coins also minted in the Yeomanry League. She also finds a small perfume bottle of black crystal, a brass mug with jade inlays, and an otherwise plain looking shirt and breeches with gossamer threads woven randomly into the fabric. This last is what registers the faint transmutation aura that Aramek perceives.

“Interesting…” says Rain. To Aramek and Lorindel, Rain whispers, “So what do you make of this?”

Rain thinks to herself, This was either here before Newt’s parents arrived, or they brought it with them from whatever they were involved in before they came here. Perhaps this may have something to do with the reason the Deathwalkers are so interested in them.

Aramek says, “I can’t say for certain without going deeper but it’s definitely transmutative in nature – possibly protective. Not sure.”

“Well, that’s a nice find,” declares Lorindel. “After everything that’s gone on lately I half expected a pair of imps or a swarm of locusts to come flying out of that box. Question is though, since we’re on official business, will we need to turn this over this cache to the crown?” he says with a chuckle.

Rain says, “Well,” with a smile but serious tone, “I agree that we are on official business, but considering that Aramek and I are providing equal support but only receiving a half share each… for these types of forays I would like to split whatever we find equally among us. But we still need to ascertain whether Newt knows about this chest first. I doubt it, but we should ask.”

“Of course,” agrees Lorindel. “This was someone’s home and that is someone’s property. We should inform Indranil of what you discovered and have him come in with Newt.”

“Yah, this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. Why don’t you let them know we are ready?” Rain places everything back in the small chest and fills back in the hole as best she can.

Lorindel heads out the front door calls to his brother. “Indranil, you’d better come in with Newt. Rain has discovered something of interest.”

Lorindel pulls his brother aside first and explains to him that Rain has uncovered a cache of valuables. “It may belong to Newt’s family,” whispers Lorindel. “Doubtful, but we should give her the chance to identify the contents.”

“Lorindel, has the worst of the carnage been cleaned up and the rest of the cottage somewhat presentable to Adelina?”

Adelina hops up heading inside. ”What have you found, milord?”

“What?! Oh, hey,” stutters Lorindel at Adelina’s actions.

Then turning towards Indranil, Lorindel says, “Rest assured, brother. We’ve cleared the cottage of most of the signs of battle.”

Indranil looks over his shoulder at Adelina running inside and then back to Lorindel and shrugs his shoulders saying, “Well I guess it doesn’t matter
now. Let’s go inside and see what Rain found.”

As a child Xalakae remembers that hiers parents had many nice things in a large home far away that was much nicer than their fisherman’s shack. S/he remembers hiers womb-parent taking on the appearance of a lovely princess and putting on the loveliest perfume of lilacs from a black crystal bottle. Hiers fertilizing-parent would come back home in the evening and drink ale from a shiny brass goblet with jade designs. They always had rich food to eat. This was before the journey that led them to the lost city. Xalakae remembers wondering why s/he could not go outside and play with the other children, but was kept hidden away from them. Hiers womb-parent would tell her not to feel sad, that someday s/he would be able to play with them and in ways that they could never imagine. In the meantime hiers fertilizing-parent would tell her stories of faraway lands, taking on the appearance of a prince, or a princess, or an orc. S/he even had some kind of special clothing that would shift and change along with the story: a ball-gown for the princess, fancy court clothes for the prince, a traveler’s outfit, a peasant dress for a farm girl, or even the simple tunic and breeches of a stout farmer. Xalakae remembers that those clothes had strange gossamer threads woven into it. When they left that barely remembered home hurriedly one chilly night they left all those things behind except the clothes, which hiers fertilizing-parent wore – as a travelers outfit – and one chest hidden under firewood in a cart. It was later put on a packhorse that they kept with them until they settled into their new home. Xalakae can’t remember what happened to that chest or those things. After they made the shack all of those things were hidden away, but hiers parents never told her where.

Adelina gives the place a quick look, and sees that some of the furniture has been broken, but now mostly set back in the right places. Most of the bloody rushes have been swept away, but there are still ominous dark stains on the floorboards in the light of an everburning torch and the fire in the hearth. She sees the equipment that belonged to the Deathwalkers piled up on the floor. Rain and Aramek sit in front of the hearth with the chest that Xalakae has not seen since childhood sitting atop a filled in hole.

As the half-elven brothers step into the cabin, Xalakae gives Rain a quick scan and finds that Rain is wondering if Newt knows anything about this chest, though she doubts it. One possibility Rain considers is that it belonged to Newt’s parents from a time before they came to the Hool Marsh; another is that it was here all along even before her parents came. Rain wonders if this is why the Deathwalkers took her parents. Rain is also grousing about perhaps only getting half a share of this or any other treasure on this expedition. Outwardly, Newt shows only concern for her parents and eagerness to learn of them.

Rain says, “Welcome home Newt. These stains are not from your parents, we had to evict a few Deathwalkers before we came in. So far we have not found any signs of them.” She looks to Indranil and says, “What do you think Indranil? What’s next?”

“At least my parents aren’t here,” Newt says. “That means they may still be alive, right?” Looking around she exclaims, “My parent’s chest! I didn’t know they still had that. I haven’t seen it since I was very, very small. They would never let me look in it, back then.” She moves to open the chest.

Rain opens it for her, “Careful, there is a poison trap right here,” and points to where the trap mechanism is, then moves her chair aside so that Newt can have room to look in the chest.

“Poison?!” Newt stops short, then kneels to look in the chest more carefully this time. ”I don’t understand. Why would they…” her voice trails off. ”Could this chest be why the Deathwalkers took them?” Newt examines the contents with great curiosity.

Adelina picks up the black crystal bottle and dispenses a bit of the perfume onto her wrist. Closing her eyes, she seems to be savoring a fond memory as the scent fills the nearby air. Setting aside the perfume she picks up the mug and ponders it briefly before setting it down. She lifts the clothing. Holding it to her nose she sniffs lightly. ”It smells like mother.” Looking to Rain, Newt asks “Where did you find this chest?” Adelina hardly notices the coins, at least, not yet.

Xalakae knows the clothes are probably the special ones hiers fertilizing-parent wore. S/he deliberately misstates that they smell like ‘mother’ (womb-parent) in
the hopes that when (if) she gets a chance to put them on the others won’t be so surprised when they actually fit. Hopefully this verbal switch of mother/father is a bluff they won’t think to look for.

Rain answers with a slight smile “Aramek detected a faint magical aura under the floor here.” She points to the now filled in hole under the chest. “I dug it up and disarmed the poison trap.

Newt moves to look inside the gaping hole in the floor, hoping for more clues.

“The chest was magic? Is that how it held so many coins?” Newt looks distressed. In frustration she says, “Oh, there are so many questions!”

“What do you think all this means, Master Aramek?” Leaving the coins, she takes the perfume, mug and clothes to a table and sits. She turns them round, pondering each of them as she listens for Aramek’s response.

Rain takes her chair over to sit next to Newt.

Aramek responds, “I would not know what it means. The magic I detect is from those clothes, it is some kind of transformation magic. But what it does exactly I do not know.”

Indranil is listening and watching everything. He feels between Rain and Aramek and Newt that the conversation is progressing well and does not want to interrupt. He looks over to see Lorindel and share a question in his glance to see if Lorindel agrees.

Lorindel nods towards his brother, lets out a peaceful sigh, and then saunters out the front door.

Indranil also notes that Oro is alert and continuing the guard the back entrance. That done Indranil moves to the front door but positions himself where he can still watch the others talking.

“Indranil, this respite, though brief it may be, is welcomed,” says Lorindel. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a bite to eat. Perhaps we should ask Adelina if she minds us checking the larder for provisions. Also, we should probably think about setting up a watch,” he suggests.

“I’m sure Oro can see well enough in this pitch, but I prefer to trust my own eyes,” admits Lorindel. “I think it would be better to stake a position out in the brush and keep watch over the cottage from a distance. If anything out of the ordinary approaches, the lookout could signal someone standing watch near the door to alert the others.”

“Lorindel, I agree with your caution. I would like Rain to take the first watch as she will only have a limited time left to see in the dark before that potion she took wears off. Let’s you and I start dinner. Once we have eaten can you relieve Rain for mid watch? I will relieve you for last watch. Is that Okay?”

“That seems practical to me,” agrees Lorindel.

Indranil says, “Excellent. Thank you, brother.”

Indranil collects his armor from its rain bath and walks back inside with Lorindel and says, “Rain would you please take our first over watch? You only have an hour or two left in your potion’s effect. Sir Lorindel will show you an excellent observation point that oversees the cottage. Lorindel will take second watch and I will take third watch. While you two are out, I will help Oro close, secure and bar the rear door. We do not have enough people to watch so many points.”

“Aramek, can you determine what magical effect the clothing performs? A
transmutation is quite intriguing. Perhaps you and Adelina can play with that while we are setting up for the night?”

Aramek replies, “Indeed.”

Indranil continues, “Once Sir Lorindel returns he and I will make dinner for us all. Adelina, perhaps we may use some of the provisions from your larder?

“Yes, milord,” Newt replies to Sir Indranil, then scoots her chair closer to Aramek and lays the shirt and breeches out for examination, careful to keep them out of any blood.

Indranil continues, “Once we have all eaten then we need to rest and get a good night’s sleep. We have many decisions to make on the morrow. Does this plan sound reasonable to everyone?”

Rain gets up from her chair and says, “Sounds good to me”. She steps over to the stacked Amedi weapons and takes a string from one of the longbows and stows it in her pack. At the same time she takes out what looks like a wrapped food bar of some sort and places this in a pocket of her cloak. She then grabs her longbow, stands and addresses Lorindel, “I’m good. You ready Lorindel?”

“Yeah,” replies Lorindel as he heads away from the cottage. ”I did a quick perimeter sweep and found a spot with high grasses that provides excellent cover. I doubt anyone would spot you unless they stumbled right into you. It’s only about 60′ out, so you could dash back if there’s trouble.”

After a brief pause, Lorindel says,” If you need to alert us without revealing yourself, you could always thump the door with an arrow. If we do the watch in pairs, you could flash the blade of your sword and someone back at the cottage could see it and wake the others inside. I’ll coordinate a lookout back at the cottage with Indranil,” he concludes. “See you in a few,” he says heading back towards the cottage.   

Rain says, “Nice spot, good choice. I’ll thump the door if I need to get your attention.” Rain settles down in the grass, making sure she is well hidden, and takes out a bar of food to munch on. It has been a long day. Mmmm, banana-nut. Why don’t they make all food with nuts? While eating small bites at a time to make less noise, she readies an arrow across the bow string and opens her senses to the noises of the night.

Once Lorindel returns, he approaches Indranil. “Rain is situated some 60′ feet out,” he explains. “She’s close enough that she can dash back if there’s trouble, but I suggested that she flash the blade of her sword to alert us if she needs to remain hidden. However, that would require a second person to remain on watch here from the cottage. The only alternative would be for her to thump the door with an arrow. What are your thoughts?” he asks. 

Indranil says, “Good point. We are stretched thin yet need the rest. I like the thumping the door idea. Let’s do that.”

“Actually, that’s the method she chose to go with. I guess we’ll be sleeping lightly. Now then, what’s on the menu?” asks Lorindel.

Aramek says, “Newt, let’s sit down with these garments for a moment and I want you to try to recall when you saw your mother wearing them. Did you notice anything unusual? Did she wear them around the cottage or just when she went out? If when she went out, where was she usually going? The better idea I have about when and under what circumstances you mother wore these things, the easier it will be for me to identify the actual magic involved.”

Newt replies, “My mother never wore anything with these beautiful threads. She only wore regular clothing, or a bit nicer if going to the trading post. Sometimes father and mother would tell stories to me and dress in costumes, but that was a long time ago. Excuse me, please.”

Newt takes the clothes and steps away for a bit of privacy. Out of sight for the moment, she changes into the shirt and breeches. Getting out of the leather armor takes some time. She comes back wearing the simple looking clothing.

Aramek looks at her in the simple outfit and smiles. “I’m sure your mother will be happy to see you wearing them. They look very pretty on you. So, tell me. Do you feel any different? Do you sense anything from wearing these garments?”

Newt blushes at the compliment. “Thank you, Master Aramek.” Twirling as if to examine herself she adds, “I do not feel any different, although the clothes are more comfortable than they appear. I must confess I had dreamt of finding my mother while I was wearing something more glamorous than peasant clothing. Something that would impress her and show I’ve done more than just be rescued like a helpless farmer girl. That reminds me…”

Newt turns to the stack of weapons and armor and picks up the two bronze daggers. “Do you think anyone would mind if I held these? They are light, and more my style, and Rain’s advice was wise, about carrying extra daggers.”

Indranil Gently clears his throat. ”Adelina, let’s hold off on going through all the gear here until the morning. I am sure we can find a few things to your liking but I want to do in the fresh light of day when we are well rested.”

“Yes, of course, my apologies.” Looking and feeling a bit chastised for her zeal, Newt looks for something to busy herself with, then gives up and sits again to further examine the clothing.

After that exchange, Aramek smiles again at Newt and asks her to remain still for a few moments while he attempts to more thoroughly ascertain the nature of the magical garments. Holding his palms outward towards Adelina, he whispers “Rivelighu.”

Aramek now senses three magical auras around Newt – the amulet (a faint abjurational magic), the clothing (a faint transmutational magic), and Newt herself (also faint, but he can’t discern its nature).

After a more concerted effort at ascertaining the nature of the amulet and garments, Aramek’s eye widen a bit and he says, “Well it seems that’s the best I can do. The amulet definitely radiates abjuration and I suspect it provides some sort of ward for protection. The purpose or nature of the garments still eludes me beyond their transmutational quality. I’d like to check on something outside for a moment and I’ll need Sir Indrinel’s help. Please excuse me for a moment Newt.”

Turning to Indrinel, Aramek motions with his eyes that they need to go outside. And once there, Aramek says to Indrinel, “It’s very odd, what I’ve uncovered. But I didn’t want to say it in front of Newt so as not to alarm her.

“She herself is giving off an as yet unidentifiable aura of magic! What do you think we should do with this information?”

Indranil responds, “Though I am no sorcerer, my intuition has been telling me Adelina is more than she appears. 

“Sir Indranil,” Aramek says, with a serious demeanor. When I checked the amulet, back in the cleaning, and when I checked the garments inside a little bit ago, I never actually directed my spell towards Newt. This time she was wearing both items and that’s why I noticed that she herself was radiating something.”

“Aramek, do you think she could be a sorceress herself?” Indranil asks. “I understand you are new to your powers as well, but do you have enough experience now to begin her initiation into the Arts? Or, should we make haste back to the rendezvous point and consult Father Gar?”

Aramek responds, “Please understand that magic is something a sorcerer wields, not something that he is. In this case, the magical aura is emanating from Newt herself. Either someone has cast a spell on her, that is continuing to remain with her, or there is some deeper magic present – possibly in the same way that some creatures are magical. I really…”

Suddenly Aramek stops speaking and gets a strange look as he senses something passing through him – like a sudden shiver, or tingling sensation. He then resumes speaking, “I was going to say, I really don’t have enough information to determine what’s going on with Newt. But I just sensed something, some strange sensation as if magic passed through or around me. I felt a tingling. Did you fell anything Sir Indrinel?”

Alarm showing on his face, Indranil says, “No! What do you think it is? Are we under attack?”

“No, Sir Indranil. I don’t sense any immediate attack. I can’t really say what I felt was necessarily alarming, just … a feeling – like a cloud passing before the sun. But I can definitely say I felt something unusual. Perhaps we should let the others know. But I still need to figure out what to do about Newt. She seems completely oblivious to any of this.”

“I do not want to alarm them until we know more, says Indranil. “Adelina especially is easily scared. I will tell Sir Lorindel when we switch watches later tonight. If you are able perhaps after dinner you can try and determine more about this place and what you sensed. I do feel there is some nexus here that led the Deathwalkers to kidnap her parents and remain behind to try and trap Adelina.”

Aramek says, “I think the first thing I’ll need to do is check this entire area. My gut tells me you may be on to something. There’s definitely more to this place than meets the eye. And I also think there’s more to Adelina’s parents than meets the eye. I agree that it would just scare her, were we to say anything.” 

Xalakae in the other room is thwarted in hiers attempt to tap Aramek’s thoughts. The sorcerer’s intuition is too good and he felt hiers presence and shut hierm out of his mind. S/he then tried Indranil and got access, picking up on his tiredness, his confusion, and his speculation that Adelina was a sorcerer like Aramek, but then he becomes quite alarmed and worries that they are under attack after Aramek remarks on feeling a spell pass through him. Then Aramek answers him in the negative and his thoughts calm. Indranil is thinking that Gar might be able to figure it all out when they return to the Javan Queen. He also believes that Adelina would be worried if she were told about Aramek’s discovery as she seems easily scared. He will tell Lorindel later. Finally he wonders if the hut is a nexus of some sort drawing the Deathwalkers to Aedlina’s family.

Indranil asks, “Maybe we should consult with Father Gar about Adelina when we get back to the others?”

Aramek says, “Well, at any rate, we haven’t discovered her parents and Lord Ragnbjorn was clear that he will be expecting us back tomorrow anyway. So yes, I’m sure Father Gar may be able to shed light on this mystery. Please do share this with Sir Lorindel and I believe Rain should also be appraised of the situation. In the meantime I’m going to do a more thorough check outside here. Let me call Newt and ask her to walk around with me. It will reassure her that all’s well and help her feel as if she’s helping.”

Aramek then calls into the cottage, “Newt! Newt! Would you mind coming out here and helping me? I want to do a more thorough check of the area and I think you’ll be able to help me.”

Indranil says, “Aramek wait! Not in the dark. It is dangerous and neither of you can see far in the dark and rain. Let’s wait for this until morning. For now let’s eat dinner and bed down for the night. I want to sleep on things tonight before we meet as a group to discuss our plans after breakfast tomorrow. After the long march and intense battle my thoughts are ill focused.”

Aramek says, “Hmm… Perhaps you’re right. I can see alright but Newt would be at a disadvantage. Tomorrow it is.”

Xalakae thinks to hiermself “Whew!  That was close.”

The rain stops at about 8 pm, and the moons, Luna and Celene, are able to shine through the breaks in the clouds. This is good for Rain as the effects of the darkvision potion wear off before her watch is over. Earlier she noted Indranil and Aramek speaking on the porch for a while. Other than that, Rain’s watch passes without incident and she is relieved by Lorindel around midnight.

Away Team, Starday Evening, Fireseek 8, 591 Common Year

It rains on and off for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, though fortunately there is no more lightning, so it is safe enough for the Marinus brothers to continue wearing their chainmail. It is still very gusty, though the trees and underbrush screen the small party seeking Newt’s home from much of the wind. They get closer to Newt’s home just before twilight, and there the tree cover drops away.

Indranil is again on point with his bow strung and ready. With his sharp half-elven senses and heightened ability to see into the gloom he spots a skull painted face watching the trail about 20 yards ahead in the underbrush. The Deathwalker does not appear to have sighted Indranil.

Indranil stops cold, raises his hand. Behind him, Oro stops as well and raises his hand. All the way back to Lorindel their line stops. Slowly, Indranil backs off until he is well out of sight of the Deathwalker. He gathers everyone and using only ranger battle sign guides them all 100 yards back down the path and then 25 yards off the travel. He indicates that they should all take off their packs.

In whispers Indranil says, “There is a Deathwalker sentry about 120 yards up the path. He might be alone or there may be others set up for an ambush. Everyone, take out your provisions and all non-essential items from your packs and put your packs back on. We may have to leave in a hurry. Lorindel and Rain, we three will leave our packs here. Get your bows strung and ready. The three of us are going back up the trail until I have him in sight. Then I want Lorindel, to head off to the left, and Rain to head off to the right. See if you can find out if there are any more of them lying in wait and then report back to me. We’ll decide what to do then. If there are no more than five of them we can probably take them out. Run if you are seen. We’ll collect the others and get out of here.”

There is no need for Rain to empty anything further from her pack as she is already running light as is. She takes off her pack and sets it down by Aramek. She then strings her bow and is ready for the hunt, heading off to the right as indicated.

As the three disappear into the rain, Newt listens anxiously for any sounds of fighting.

Aramek whispers, “Sorchkiraso,” so that the all but invisible protective field of arcane force surrounds him – just in case.

Slowly, carefully, and quietly, Indranil, Lorindel, and Rain make their way back up the trail, until the Deathwalker is again in sight. He seems to be covering himself with some kind of cloak to keep out the rain and doesn’t even appear to be looking at the trail anymore.

Creeping through the underbrush on either side, Lorindel and Rain both see that the Deathwalker appears to be alone. They also see that not too far away is a light shining through the doors and shutters of a ramshackle cottage that is certainly Newt’s home, though there doesn’t seem to be anyone around outside which is not surprising given the wind and rain. As the sun sets completely they make their way back to Indranil’s position and report just as the lone Deathwalker get up to head to the cottage himself before it is too dark to find his way back.

Rain nods her head towards the lone Deathwalker and slightly lifts her bow, indicating that she thinks they should take him out now. Then she makes a walking motion with her fingers indicating that they should move up closer first.

Lorindel nods in agreement realizing that the Deathwalker is still beyond his optimum range.

Indranil looks at Rain and signs for her to take the shot before the Deathwalker can return to the cabin.

Lorindel and Rain, as quiet as stalking panthers, make their way up the path as the Deathwalker hugs his cloak around him and starts back towards the cottage. Indranil takes his shot from 60’ back but misses. Lorindel from less than 10 yards misses his shot as well, but Rain at the same distance hits. Her arrow pierces the hood of the Deathwalker’s cloak. He stumbles, but the hit was not mortal as he yells and starts running in a panic down the path. Indranil’s next shot takes him right in the back and he falls lifeless into the mud. Silence again descends upon the scene except for the continuing patter of the rain and the howl of the wind through the branches of the trees.

Rain and Lorindel slink down just barely off the path, readying against reprisal from the Deathwalker’s yell, but there are none.

Indranil signs for Rain and Lorindel to return to his location for a quick conference.

Seeing that no other hidden Deathwalkers are emerging from the underbrush, Rain and Lorindel slink back to Indranil. She points first to the cabin then back to Gar and Newt, and then raises her eyebrows with a slight head tilt in question.

Indranil signs for Lorindel and Rain to lean in to him closely, and speaks in a soft voice that carries less than a whisper with his mouth close to their ears, “Rain please return to the group and let them know we saw only one Deathwalker and have dispatched him. Return to this location with the group but leave the supplies and my pack there. Sir Lorindel and I will await here at the edge of the clearing and keep watch until you return. I would like Aramek to use his arcane senses to determine what he can about magical energies here before we proceed to scout further. My intention is to survey the scene further while we wait for you and then for Aramek to detect any hidden magic that might lay in wait for us. Once we have determined scene safety the three of us will stealthily scout the buildings and then see what we can inside the hut that has the lights burning. We will discuss what to do next once we have more insight.”

Indranil melts back into the brush alongside the left of the path and edge of
the clearing bow ready, arrow nocked but not drawn.

Rain nods and then slinks down the path to get the others.

Lorindel hunches down and keeps vigil over the cottage. His bow is drawn with an arrow nocked.

Rain, stumbling a bit in the dark, finds the others and relays Indranil’s instructions. They pick themselves up and all head back to the path and back to Indranil, Aramek being the only one who can see anything anymore.

Or so they think. Being a Double-Goer, Xalakae is always watching for just such a thing as night-blind humans compared to night-seeing half-elves. Mimicking a human, Xalakae pretends to stumble from time to time. Being annoyed with Rain for the imperious instructions earlier, Newt  stumble less than Rain (trying to show her up, or at least impress the others a bit if they are paying attention), but still looks for a subtle excuse to catch herself on Rain while “stumbling.”

Xalakae has given significant thought to the possibility that hier parents are in danger from Newt’s current comrades. However, s/he concludes that there is nothing s/he can do about it. Hier parents know what they are doing and will have to look after themselves. Xalakae keeps searching for their mental signatures, hoping to pick them up. S/he believes they were taken, though, and thus doesn’t expect to find them here. S/he just hopes s/he doesn’t give hiermself away if such a tragedy does happen, and tries to steel hiermself against doing so.

Almost in the same thought it occurs to hierm that hiers new friends may be in danger from hiers parents. Xalakae fervently hopes that hiers parents will detect hiers comrades and act appropriately. After all, they only assumed the form of Deathwalkers in order to avoid being killed. Given an opportunity, they’d surely ‘defect’ back. Wouldn’t they? Xalakae can’t help but start second-guessing and what-if-ing the possibilities.

Rain and Newt and Oro find themselves stumbling a bit as they pick their way out of the trees and underbrush back to the path. Oro and Newt are a little better off being used to the swamp, but even Newt almost falls and has to catch herself against Rain.

Back on the path, Aramek surveys the Deathwalker and the area and declares that it is clean of any magical auras. The Deathwalker has nothing on him but his cloak, leather armor, longbow, longspear, and hand axe.

Newt edges forward quietly, eager for a glimpse of home and perhaps her parents. There, she waits and looks to Indranil for more ranger-type hand signals.

Indranil whispers, ”Rain, Aramek, Adelina, and Oro, I must ask you one more time to be patient. Please wait here hidden off the path and do not speak out loud. Sir Lorindel and I will sneak up to the cottage and see if we can determine who is inside without alerting them to our presence. We will return here to you and decide how to best proceed once we know more about who is in the cottage. I certainly hope there are no more threats and we can all find shelter and warmth out of the rain and storm soon! Lorindel, let’s get this over with so we can get these good people out of the elements.”

Aramek tells them, “You all should know that I have tried a small drop of those two potions from Noch that we had not identified. I still do not know what the one labeled ‘Pass’ is for, but the one labeled ‘Dark’ is, if I am correct, a potion that will grant darkvision to the user. It should last for several hours.”

Rain says to Indranil speaking softly, “Now would be a good time for me to use that for checking the cabin,” she says referring to the Darkvision potion.

Indranil responds, “Rain if you are comfortable trying such a potion untested in a battle situation then you are welcome to join Sir Lorindel and myself in scouting the cottage.”

Rain holds out her hand to Aramek indicating that she would like him to hand her the potion. “I am quite comfortable with Aramek’s analysis. I will be ready to join you shortly.”

Given the potion, Rain begins to drink but then asks Aramek, “All of it?”

“Yes, that is the way it works,” answers Aramek.

Rain downs the potion, and then starts looking around her. It tastes of carrots and the nutlike wolfberry. Within moments after drinking it, Rain finds that she can see clearly up to 20 yards in any direction, but all in shades of black, white, and gray. 

That done, Indranil, Lorindel, and Rain begin to sneak up on the cottage as quietly as possible. Within 20 yards of it they see that two Deathwalkers are standing under the eaves in front of the door. They are arguing about something in the Amedi language and peering out into the swamp. One of them shouts into the night, “Jalmari!”

Rain actually understands their language, and knows that the one is saying, “Jalmari! Jamlmari! Get over here for Thanatos’s sake! Get back here!” He then, turns to the other Amedi and says, “They’ve killed Jalmari! They’ve killed Jalmari! Those lousy stinking green snakeskins! Those horrible atrocity-filled vermin! Those despicable animal warmongers! They’ve killed Jalmari!” The Deathwalker then begins gesticulating as if fighting lizardfolk. “Take that! Take this! Take that, you green slime! You black hearted, short, bow-legged…”

Indranil nods towards Lorindel and Rain, he motions for them to close the distance as much as possible without being detected, and signs to Lorindel to take the Deathwalker on the right and Rain to take the Deathwalker on the left. Indranil plans to hold his shot and wait to back up Lorindel and Rain if either misses or needs a final kill shot.

Rain’s arrow is blown off course by the wind and it strikes the frame right by the head of the one standing to the left. Lorindel’s arrow would have taken the one on the right in the head but at the last moment he raised his hand to call out to Jalmari again and the arrow pierced his hand instead. Indranil quickly releases his arrow at the one on the left. It buries itself in his stomach and he falls squealing in agony on the porch. Neither of the two is armed or armored. The one with the arrow in his hand screams and leaps back across the threshold and slams the door before anyone can fire anymore arrows at him. There is a commotion from inside. 

Rain hears the wounded one inside the cottage saying, “Feritz! They’ve killed Feritz! Those dirty stinking lizarmen have killed Feritz!”

Indranil yells, “Rain! Finish that one!” pointing towards the Deathwalker thrashing on the porch. ”Lorindel take the back door, make sure no one escapes out the back, and meet me inside!”

Rain’s next shot finishes off the one on the porch, putting him out of his misery. She runs to back up Indranil, dropping her bow at the front porch and drawing her shortsword and masterwork dagger.

Lorindel races to the far side of the cottage and finds a back entrance.

Indranil smoothly stows the bow across his back while drawing his sword and racing to the front door and kicks it in. The flimsy door crashes open to reveal four warriors in the small room lit only by the fire in the hearth. One of them is helping to put some form of archaic banded armor on another who is holding a longsword. Another is whimpering and pulling the arrow out of his hand. A fourth runs at Indranil with a handaxe.

The axe wielding Deathwalker misses his swing but manages to block the doorway. Behind him Indranil can see the one trying to put on armor shrug it away and prepare to face any enemy who gets inside with his sword. Indranil cuts the enemy before him but it is not a mortal blow. Rain comes in at his side and tries to stab the axe wielder but is unable to get a clear shot at him and in fact is forced to jump back to keep out of Indranil’s way. The axe wielder steps aside behind the frame of the door and another of the Deathwalkers inside stabs Indranil in the belly with a longspear. It is a painful blow, but Indranil’s chainmail kept it from being a more serious wound.

Lorindel, bow and arrow still in hand, tries to kick in the door, but has no luck with his first attempt.

Indranil calls out, “Rain get ready to jump in and throw your dagger on the count of three. One! Two! Three!” Indranil leaps to the right of the door. Rain moves in and throws her masterwork dagger into the gut of the spearman.

Indranil shouts, “I’m going in!” and then moves past Rain into the room, but not fast enough to avoid taking another poke in belly by the spearman. Knocking the spear aside he continues to advance, slashing the spearman across the chest. The axeman steps in to take a swipe but Indranil ducks beneath it.

Lorindel can still be heard kicking at the backdoor.

Rain moves in past Indranil and engages the axeman, stabbing him in the left arm with her shortsword. He counterattacks with his axe but Rain deftly parries the blow. Knocking tables and chairs out of his way, the spearman backs off from Indranil but is unable to land another blow. Indranil rushes in past his guard again and finally takes him down with a cut to the right leg that leaves him crippled and bleeding to death on the floor.

The leader sees that his men are in dire straits and so leaves the door and engages Indranil. He proves to be an accomplished swordsman himself, and gets past Indranil’s guard, but Indranil’s chainmail is proof against the blow. Indranil duels with the leader and manages to slash him across his unarmored belly, but the wound is shallow. The leader in turn slashes Indranil’s right foot.

Rain, meanwhile, stabs her foe in the right arm, and he too is down, blood gushing forth from a severed artery. Rain moves past him to try to get behind the leader. The other Deathwalker, having removed the arrow from his right hand, takes up an axe in his left and tries to force Rain to back off but is unable to land a blow.

Lorindel continues to kick at the sturdy back door.

Indranil and the leader trade blows, the clash of steel rings throughout the small cottage. Indranil slashes the leader in the right leg and in turn receives a ringing blow on his helmet. Indranil and his foe are both limping and breathing heavily as they continue to attack and counterattack and maneuver for position in the cramped cottage.

Rain manages to finish off her opponent by stabbing him in his wounded right hand, renewing the flow of blood and sending him crashing to the floor from shock and blood loss.

Finally Lorindel succeeds in kicking open the door. He takes a shot and his arrow lodges in the leader’s left arm. Screaming the leader breaks away from Indranil and lunges at Lorindel but misses his swing. Rain moves up and tries to stab him from behind but he is too wary and is already ducking and weaving to keep anyone from getting behind him. Unfortunately for him, there are too many and Indranil catches him in the neck with his sword. He too joins his compatriots on the floor of Newt’s family’s cottage, now awash in the blood of the Deathwalkers.

Indranil staggers outside to the porch and falls to his knees. He calls out, “Rain… Lorindel… hurry collect the others and bring them here, ask Aramek for a healing potion quickly I am hurt grievously. My potion is in my pack back down the trail…”

Rain pulls out a healing potion from her belt pouch, pulls off the stopper and helps Indranil take it. “I’ll stay here and look after Indranil,” she says to Lorindel. She retrieves her masterwork dagger and longbow and keeps an eye on the jungle about her for any further foes. Lorindel speeds off into the night to fetch the rest of the party.

“Thank you Rain,” says Indranil. “You fought well and earned great honor today. I almost led us astray rushing in to the house. When the others get back here please keep Adelina outside with me on the porch while the rest of you remove the bodies of the Deathwalkers and stack them in the back until light when we can burn their bodies, and straighten up the cottage a bit. We need to get out of the inclement weather as soon as possible but I do not want to shock her too badly seeing her home this way.”

“Will do,” Rain responds. “By the way, for the future it may interest you to know that I speak Amedi.”

Rain steps back into the cottage, “I’m gonna start cleaning up” she says and begins to do so. She searches the bodies and lays out what is found, starting with the obvious leader.

Fingol and Gar, Starday Afternoon, Fireseek 8, 591 Common Year

Later that day, as Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and Gar go over the charts with Captain Olnut to consider a future search for the lost city of Thracia they see that around 100 miles to the west the Hool Marshes butt up against the Tors, a mesalike series of hills that separate the Hold of the Sea Princes from the Yeomanry League. Westward the Tors become the Crystalmist Mountains, a massive chain containing some of the highest peaks in all the Flanaess. On the other side of those impassible peaks lie the Dry Steppes and the Sea of Dust, the graves of the Baklunish Empire and the Suloise Imperium.

Fingol says. “Now, if we are going to mount an expedition to the foothills of the Tors, it might make sense to go upriver on the Javan, head west across the plains and then skirt the foothills as we go south.

Then he grouses, “Of course life is never that easy. The lizardfolk will have us go due west through all the slop and crap in the marsh!”

Gar says, “I like Fin’s idea. Taking the path along the edge of the mountain is also where we are more likely to find the lost city in the jungle.”

Ragnbjorn says, “On paper it might look like a good plan, but that is mostly monster infested uncharted territory, and from what I’ve heard from the Yeomanry the home of various hostile tribes, human and not-so-human. Not only that, but for all we know there might be a faster route from the Hool River. Anyway, we’re not going after this lost city yet. Remember that Chief Rahk was talking about some shrine a three days march from here. Perhaps we’ll find some clue at this shrine that can tell us how to find the city.”

Gar comments, “It does look like a shorter route by heading up the Hool River, if we need go to the Tors. Is it because of the mountain cliffs that you want to go there, Sir Fingol?” he queries.

Fingol responds, “The foothills of the Tors would be the most likely place to find 300′ cliffs described in your vision. Otherwise the marsh is relatively flat.” 

As they are looking over the charts, Master Ailil strides into the deckhouse with a look of great displeasure. “Excuse me,” he begins in his whispery voice, “but I thought that the other delegates and I were to be a party to the negotiations. Would you care to inform us as to what is going on and when we will be able to make our demands?”

Gar looks at Master Ailil, blinks, and then ignores him as he turns back to the maps.

Ragnbjorn looks to Fingol as if to say, ‘This is your responsibility now.’

By way of preamble, Fingol says, “I suppose that we should update you on all that has occurred and all that is being considered. As you can see, however, we are still in the midst of our deliberations and so do not yet have a complete answer.

“What is being considered now is a mutual threat to Westkeep and Chief Rhodophylax’s people. Prince Prospero was aware of this threat, and greatly concerned by it. This may pose an indefinite delay to the negotiations, in which case, we would send you back to the safety of Westkeep and ask that you make yourselves available at some future time when the marsh is perhaps more secure and the chief is… appreciative of help from the prince which would put you in a better position to – as you put it – make demands.”

Master Ailil stops to consider this and then says, “Well, I assume this mutual threat would be those Amedi savages. Hmm, I suppose if we give them some token aid against the Amedi that will work out for all of us. The Amedi rabble will get cleared out and the snakeskins can take the brunt of the fight. In the end, the snakeskins will be further weakened and as you say grateful. That should put us in a very strong position indeed. Yes, I like that plan.”

Fingol responds, “I would like to point out, Master Ailil. That Chief Rhodophylax and his warriors saved us from an attack by the Amedi. So at the moment, we are the party which must show appreciation. What’s more, if this threat is not dealt with seriously, Westkeep and its inhabitants might not be safe. Therefore, we are not going to play games with it or the lizardfolk. I would hope that you agree with this position also, as your guildsmen, working outside the walls of the keep, would be the first put at risk.”

Still with his back to Ailil, Gar smirks.

Ailil replies, “I have no fear of these Amedi scum. They are jungle savages and many of them are former slaves. True, they are a threat to the fishermen, and I agree they should be disposed of, but they are no longer a danger to Westkeep without the Scarlet Brotherhood to direct them or their hobgoblins and orc legions to back them up. The Scarlet Brotherhood would never have taken the Hold in the first place if not for their treachery and the armada from the Lordship of the Isles.” He takes a breath and sighs heavily. “I suppose you will do what you feel you need to do Sir Fingol, and Sir Ragnbjorn, Father Gar.” Ailil makes a curt bow, turns, and walks away.

After Ailil leaves Fingol shakes his head and mutters, “He seems to have a rather high regard for the Scarlet Brotherhood. And he doesn’t have any appreciation for how tenuous Westkeep’s position would be without control of the marsh. I’m not sure how we will manage the negotiations with him making demands.” 

Gar mutters, “Fish food.”

Sobering up, Gar adds, “Sir Fingol, the Prince’s negotiation are yours, but if I may, it would be nice if we can get Master Ailil and the others to agree to not net across the entire river. Just as we humans would not hesitate to kill to protect our travel rights upon the rivers, so too should the other races be able to use the under water ways freely. In return, the lizardfolk will let the fishermen live peacefully. It could be as easy as that to be done with the fishing rights issue. If Master Ailil will agree to that, I would be inclined to let him live, even if he be a miserable whore of the Scarlet Brotherhood.” Gar’s left eyebrow raises in query.

“That sounds reasonable to me. I think it would sound reasonable to any reasonable man. Master Ailil wants to see a general war between Westkeep and the lizardfolk. I am uncertain of his reasoning for that. I think we have to spend some time looking for a way to move his position. Or we need to find a way to put someone else in Master Ailil’s place.”

Ragnbjorn says, “It is certainly reasonable. However, you two should remember that Master Ailil is not a Keolander. He is a native of the Hold of the Sea Princes and for whatever reasons he was left in charge of the Fishmongers Guild even during the Scarlet Brotherhood occupation. That doesn’t make him a collaborator or agent of theirs. It simply means he never crossed them and so was left alone. He certainly doesn’t seem to like them either. But neither does he like Prince Prospero or those of us from Keoland. I am sure he and others like him would be very happy if the rest of us all killed each other off in senseless fighting to leave the native citizens of the Hold free to resume their lives of piracy and the enslavement of all those weaker than themselves.”

Gar chuckles, despite himself.

Fingol says, “Well, his sentiments are not so different from others who live in the town then. However, they still represent an enormous problem to the negotiations. What exactly we can do about all this, I wish I knew.

“And I am on edge wondering if he is in any way connected to Noch’s attack on you. How that could be proved is beyond me at the moment, but I would like to find out before we send this boat back to Westkeep.”

Ragnbjorn says, “Fingol you may not want to hear this, and Father Gar you may not appreciate it, but I am going to say it anyway. This is the difference between lords and commoners. It is for the commoners to worry about food, the raising of it and the consuming of it. That is a very legitimate concern and I do not begrudge them. In fact it is necessary that they concern themselves with such. Those like Master Ailil, and he is nought but a commoner after all, have come to believe too strongly in their own perceived importance and the amassing of wealth and power for its own sake when it is the food and the land that the food comes from that matters.

“Now those of us who are of the nobility must have greater concerns, the protection of the land itself and its people foremost. We must look beyond the next harvest and beyond our own fields if the commoners are to have future harvests and if the fields are to remain ours. They should not imagine that their concerns, no matter how important to them, should dictate ours. We should listen to their concerns. That is why they were sent with us as delegates to represent their respective fields of expertise. But our concerns must take in the long term political and military issues that are not their prerogative. They seek security and profit in the short-term, but we must have a larger view. That is why we rule and they must serve. Master Ailil must remember his place, and you Fingol remember yours. Your place is to serve those above you with loyalty and faithfulness, to be a good and worthy comrade of your equals, and to fulfill your responsibilities to protect the welfare of those below you to the best of your ability. Master Ailil’s place is to fulfill his duties to his liege, who is in this case the Prince-Governor, and to conduct his business honestly. If he cannot do that, then he will be disciplined.

“Now as regards your, rather our, suspicions, I do not know how we can prove that he hired Noch to kill me if in fact he did. But it would be better to get him and those others out of our way here until the Hool Marshes are secure. That way he can do no mischief here, and whatever mischief he may do in Westkeep will be the concern of those best equipped to deal with such things.”

“I appreciate your thoughts, and acknowledge their truth.” Fingol says with a slight bow, “But I cannot point to anything that he has done which warrants discipline. Reacting to the annoyance he creates in me would be petty. That said, I will show him more backbone and ensure that the Prince’s goals are more strongly presented.”

Gar openly sneers at them both. “Excuse me, but it seems to me your version of nobless oblige, Sir Ragnbjorn, is to drag three humble fisherman up the river, and then to ignore them and send them home. What a waste of time and energy.

“I’m tired of them, just as you are. I don’t want to go on multiple boat trips with them and I don’t see a finger being lifted to work out their issues, much less to listen to them to find what their issues are in the first place.” Gar’s voice begins to rise. “Is that your view of the responsibility of the nobility, sir?” Gar’s lifts his hands, palms up and fingers open, with a wild look in his eyes, clearly showing his frustration with the situation.

Turning his attention to Fingol, Gar’s voice raises a notch, “And you, Sir Fingol, do you follow the prince by ignoring the factions that you do not like? That would be serving your father, but would it serve your prince?” Gar looks from father to son, breathing shallowly, more than a little high strung.

Ragnbjorn coughs, “Well, first of all, to address Fingol’s concern, no, I don’t think Ailil has done anything warranting discipline yet. But I do not trust him, and neither do either of you. Nor have I counseled ignoring the concerns of the fishermen, far from it. We should take their concerns into account. However, the situation has changed. We are now in a warzone. They don’t belong here and their concerns will be moot if, as Fingol has decided, we do not take care of these Deathwalkers. Now I would still counsel sending them home until these more pressing matters are resolved, but it is Fingol’s call. And certainly we can speak with them first even if Fingol decides that should be sent back.”

Fingol says, “The guild masters were brought out before we knew of the severity of the situation here.  Sending them back and asking them to come again at some later date is a huge imposition. Keeping them here is a huge risk. I would prefer to impose rather than risk. Therefore, I will speak with the guild masters and explain the situation more fully.

“And remind me to get you some tarot cards and a crystal ball. Don’t get me wrong Father Gar, you are all over that ‘All Seeing Oracle’ routine. I think with some props you could take it to Nicole Dra.”

Gar smiles sheepishly. “I am simply speaking about what is staring us in the face. There is no need for scrying devices – wide open eyes will do. With one simple conversation, we will at least have a better idea of the game he plays. Casting a Zone of Truth will also help us know if he speaks true or is trying to hide something. If he refuses the Zone of Truth, I may cast it anyway when you chat with them….”

“That might be helpful, although, I can’t think of any reason why Master Ailil would agree to submit to this spell. Nor can I think of a reasonable justification for it. I suppose you would have to wait until tomorrow to be blessed with the gift of that magic?”

“No, I have two Zones of Truth ready to go today. I’m ready when you are. If Master Ailil refuses the truth spell, I will be even more inclined to use it, wondering what he is trying to hide. I cannot cast it without his knowledge, but I do not need his consent – only yours, milords. If Master Ailil refuses to speak, then perhaps we will then have the justification we seek for his removal from the negotiation process.”

Ragnbjorn says, “I think we should just tell them that we require them to assert that they have come here in good faith to help bring about a just agreement with the lizardfolk. Then we can ask specific questions as needed. If they refuse to submit or if their answers or shown to be lies then we send them back home. And if they lie, we can ask questions about Noch specifically. Maybe at least one will be sent back in chains for more careful questioning back at Westkeep.”

Gar grins at this idea. “Yes sir!” He looks to Fingol.

“Hmmmm…” Fingol shifts uncomfortably. ”I don’t feel comfortable with it, but I will consent. We have at least a day until the others return from the scouting mission. We could try to set up opening talks with Chief Rahk in that time… or tell the delegates that we are going to try. We will ask them to take an oath that they will negotiate faithfully as part of that effort. Father Gar can cast the spell to see if any swear falsely.”

Fingol starts to walk out to find the guild masters and then stops, “One last question, Father. If we crowd these men into your zone, would you be able to tell if one swears falsely while the rest might be true?” 

Gar responds, “If I understand the magic correctly, milord, all within 20′ of me will only be able to speak truth, although they can evade. It may not always work either, but I will watch them keenly to see if I detect anything with my other senses. Perhaps in between each round, we can let each side meet to talk privately.

“Chief Rahk specifically asked us to take care of the fishermen ourselves. He does not want to talk to them. So another idea, milords, would be to invite the guild master and three fishermen into a private negotiation with the three of us, saying that we would like to use the Zone of Truth as a sign of mutual trust, so that all of us would be bound by the same rules of speech.

“We can progress however you want, Sir Fingol, for three minutes. We can all swear fealty if you so wish, to see where their hearts may stand. What is required of one side should be required of the other side, at least in round one when we are playing nice. After that… well, we can get a little rougher if we want or need. That’s what I think.” Gar cocks his eyebrows in query.

Fingol replies, “Very good. We’ll ask them to confer with us as to what their demands are and with that pretext we will present them to Chief Rahk. I think the first thing we should do is all take an oath to negotiate faithfully. That will put the matter out plainly, and quickly. I am concerned about the time we have with the spell.”

“Yes,” replies Gar, “you will need to ponder your questions very carefully. Time is an evil demon.”

While Fingol is thoughtfully pondering his questions, Gar turns his attention back to the map. “Sir Ragnbjorn, if we head south up the Hool River, if we decide to go to the Tors later, who or what lives down there?”

Fingol paces back and forth scribbling and crossing things out in his journal when he hears the question, “Just more marsh,” he says, and gets back to his fretting.

After a moment, Fingol looks up again from his notebook and addresses Ragnbjorn, “Father, who or what lives in the Tors? Could we hope to find a safe town to use as a base as we explore the area? It would save quite a bit of effort, over crossing and recrossing the Hool Marsh back to Westkeep.” 

Ragnbjorn replies, “As I said earlier, more monsters and human and non-human tribes of savages. The only sizeable settlement out that way is the free city of Melkot. It is built around a large castle and famed for its gem mining operations, but beyond that I don’t know any more. I am not even sure how they fared when the Scarlet Brotherhood took the Hold of the Sea Princes, though Melkot was not part of the latter.”

Gar furrows his eyebrows and scratches his chin while looking at the map. “Milords, I’ve been hearing about the halflings and their weed since arriving in the marshes. Where do they live? Are they friendly?

Ragnbjorn grimaces with distaste and says, “Most of those rascals live upriver on the Javan, near the borders of the Yeomanry and Keoland. There may be some up the Hool River as well. They are unscrupulous little bastards who thrive on hedonism and lawlessness. They set up snipers, traps, and ambushes all around their fields, and can be quite dangerous. It would be best to avoid them.”

“Ah, Sir Ragnbjorn, it sounds to me like they are trying to protect their crop from poachers,” smiles Gar, “but thank you, milord.”

Looking back at the map, Gar becomes engrossed. The corners of his mouth twitch from side to side every now and then. He seems lost in thought, even closing his eyes occasionally in deep contemplation. Then his index finger moves to the map and follows the line of the Javan River, up through the marshes and past the Dreadwood and the Yeomanry. After tapping his finger there a few times he then continues to follow the line up into the mountains. Sounds can be heard ruminating inside him, “Mmm,” “Oh,” and “Uh-huh,” and then a long curious, “Hmm?”

Finally, Gar looks up again. “Milords, I was just pondering again the dreams of the Great Druidess where a huge wall of water comes down the Javan River to wash away all before it. That much water must come from somewhere. Do either of you know of any water source large enough to do so, perhaps a large dam on or near the Javan?” Continuing to speak, but looking at the map again, “I don’t see anything big enough on the map. However the clues we have received from the gods and the lizardfolk all point north, not necessarily west. Any thoughts milords?”

“Hmm,” begins Fingol “I never thought I would have the opportunity of accusing you of being too literal. I always assumed that the threat, whatever it might be, would follow the river. Hence, it would be a ‘flood’ of sorts but not of water. Still, if we are presuming to find ways to make the prophecy black and white,” and here Fingol points at the Tors and draws his finger west to the Hellfurnaces, “it could be that volcanoes, which are common in the Hellfurnaces, could melt the glaciers on the mountain tops.” Fingol traces the mountains ringing the Yeomanry and Hornwood. “This would flood the lands east and in turn the rivers that they feed.”

Fingol pauses a few moments. “I suppose that would attract the attention of the Great Druidess, since it would involve great loss of all life; not simply humanoid but flora and fauna as well. But such a magic is unthinkably powerful. It would be like invoking another Rain of Colorless Fire.” And suddenly he feels a bit uneasy.

Gar purses his lips for a moment thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you are correct, Sir Fingol. It could be a flood of monsters, a flood of undead, or a flood of Deathwalkers. All are excellent possibilities. The flood need not be of water….”