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….”

 

Starday Afternoon, Fireseek 8, 591 Common Year

Once everyone has gathered at the canoe Indranil announces, “Okay everyone please load your gear into the canoe and then gather around me for a mission briefing.”

Indranil places his pack in the canoe and then walks over and waits until the scouting party gathers around. “Sir Ragnbjorn has given us an important mission, to escort Adelina home to look for her parents and, if we find them, to bring them all back here and then on to Westkeep; or, if we cannot find them, to look for evidence where they have been taken.

“We are about to embark upon a mission of some danger into the wilds of the Hool and we will not have much strength of arms to protect us so we will have to conduct ourselves with stealth and great care. I think it is important for everyone to have full knowledge of the mission.

“Sir Ragnbjorn said that if we do not find Adelina’s parents in the village then we are to look for their trail and evidence of their passage. Father Gar further said that, in his visions from Obad-Hai, Adelina may have some hidden knowledge of where her parents were taken and we are to aid her in finding this knowledge. This is why I asked Aramek to prepare seven day’s rations for us.

“Father Gar described to us a dream vision from Obad-Hai he had last night that clearly indicated Adelina is someone of great importance and we all must protect her at the cost of our lives. She can very well lead us to the source of all the madness that has descended upon the Hool and Westkeep in the last few months.

“Sir Ragnbjorn is asking Chief Rahk to send one of his adepts with us to provide divine healing if needed. Aramek also has Noch’s potions, and two of those are for healing wounds. We are free to use those for the mission. If we do need to follow a trail, either of Newt’s parents or of the enemy to see where they are, then I will send Lorindel back here to let Sir Ragnbjorn know and bring reinforcements.

“If we find a concentration of the enemy too big to deal with, we will disengage as quickly as possible and rendezvous back here using the standard shoot-and-scoot procedure.

“Normally if Newt’s parents are there and once reunited with their daughter they would be free to stay or go elsewhere if they did not wish to come with us. In this case however, Sir Ragnbjorn prefers to err on the side of caution and take them into protective custody if they do not agree to come back with us voluntarily. However, they are not to be abused, but they cannot be left free to wander the marshes in these circumstances; it is far too dangerous, especially not if Father Gar’s dreams point to them as somehow important factors in all of this.

“I have told you all as much as I know. We will have to have utter and complete faith and trust in each other on this dangerous scouting mission. I want no barriers between us on this mission. While I am in charge I want everyone to speak their mind. Are there any questions?”

“Thanks you for that Sir Indranil.”  Rain looks around and takes note of who is present: just Newt, the Marinus brothers, Aramek, and herself. Then she asks, “Is this the entire party you are leading for this mission?”

“Yes, Rain it is a small, agile and fast scouting mission. Sir Lorindel and myself as rangers to lead the scouting mission, with you and Aramek from the Guard to protect Adelina and a Malarat shaman as healer. Through stealth and speed we accomplish our mission. It is the ranger way.”

Lorindel nods in agreement.

Newt looks downhearted. She says, with some incredulity, “Obad-Hai says my parents have been taken? To be used by the Deathwalkers? Why?” She asks of no one in particular. “And I’m to be ‘of great importance’? How can this all be? Milord, should not Father Gar accompany us? After all, it was his vision of Obad-Hai.”

Indranil answers, “Adelina we do not know what has happened to your parents. A dream vision does not reality make and cannot always be interpreted directly, it is just that: a dream vision. But while dreams are not always clear you can take great comfort and hope that it does seem your parents are alive. We will find them. That is why Sir Ragnbjorn is sending us on this scouting mission: to find your parents. You are an important person indeed, but we know not why… yet. All things will be revealed in time with an open heart and eager mind. I can tell from only knowing you for one day that you are indeed a special person.

“I would love to have Father Gar along for this mission and will sorely miss his humor and wit, but he must stay and assist Sir Ragnbjorn and Sir Fingol in the important negotiations with Chief Rahk and the lizardfolk as directed by the Prince.”

Just then, Ragnbjorn leads Fingol and Gar back over to the Javan Queen where Indranil is discussing the mission with the others.

“Good! Good! You’re all getting ready I see,” Ragnbjorn says. “Listen up everyone. Chief Rahk is sending one of his warriors to accompany you. Unfortunately he has no shamans to spare at this time. I’m sure that Sir Indranil has explained that you are free to use the healing potions that Noch had, and Gar is going to give each of you one of his. You shouldn’t be involved in much fighting anyway, but at least you’ll be somewhat prepared if you do.”

Gar then gives Indranil, Lorindel, Newt, Rain, Aramek, and even Fingol one each of the six healing potions he was given by the Prince.

Ragnbjorn continues, “The warrior who will accompany you is named Oro. He will give each of you a necklace like these to wear.” he indicates the alligator teeth necklaces that he and Fingol, and Father Gar are wearing. “These are tokens of friendship with the Malarat tribe. Keep them on you at all times, and afterwards they are not to be sold or traded to anyone else. They are a safe-pass through the Malarat territory. However, even with these, you are still not to go too close to their home village that is a three days march to the north from Cypress Hill. They’ve had some trouble up there with the Deathwalkers and are still understandably quite touch. That is why Oro will be going with you – to keep you from straying into areas you shouldn’t stray into.

“Now, you’ll need at least two canoes for the six of you and your equipment. Fortunately, there’s plenty to choose from here. It’s not that far to Cypress Hill anyway, and from there you’ll be walking a half days journey to Newt’s home.

“Now Newt, if your parents are there then all is well and good. However, I want them to pack up quickly and all of you return to the Javan Queen. It is no longer safe out here and I want any civilians we find evacuated to Westkeep. If they are not there, see if you can find any clue as to where they may have gone if they have been there and left. Sir Indranil is a tracker and can help in this. If you have to, follow the trail then do so. Sir Lorindel will come back and report to me that you are doing so. That is why you are taking rations enough for seven days. However, if Oro tells you not to go a certain way, even if the trail leads there, you don’t put one foot in front of the other in that direction. It will have to be up to the lizardfolk to find them in that case. They will pass the word.

“Finally, if you run into the Deathwalkers, take them out if you can. We don’t want them reporting back to wherever it is they came from. If there are too many of them then disengage and get out of there. Make your way back here to the Javan Queen. This will also be the rendezvous point if you should somehow lose one another. In either case, make sure you see them before they see you. Best not to let them see you at all. Sir Indranil and Sir Lorindel hardly need to be told this, but keep it in mind Newt, and you too, Aramek and Rain. I know this kind of stealth work is not the Guard’s usual line of work. Alright, that’s all I have. Any questions? Oh here comes Oro now.”

Coming over to the riverbank Ragnbjorn and the others see a lizardfolk warrior coming towards them. He is an imposing 7’ tall and probably 250 pounds of green-scaled muscle covered only in a waistband and loincloth. On his back is a shield that looks like the shell of a large tortoise. In his waistband is tucked a war club lined with alligator teeth. A quiver of darts is strapped to his back. In the quiver is an atlatl, the lizardfolk’s dart thrower. In Oro’s right hand he carries five sets of alligator teeth necklaces.

Oro only speaks Draconic so Ragnbjorn handles all the introductions since Newt and Rain are not speakers of that language. He seems a bit reserved, but is not otherwise unfriendly. He gives the necklaces to Ragnbjorn to distribute.

Newt looks at the alligator teeth (on Oro’s club and on the necklaces) from behind the others and comments, “Looks like they don’t get along with their cousins.”

Once the formalities are over Ragnbjorn asks again, “Does anyone have any last questions before you all set out?”

Indranil says, “Rain, now would be a good time to share with Sir Ragnbjorn privately what you overhead Ailil saying. Then we should be about it.”

“Agreed, Sir Ragnbjorn if you have a minute I would like to share something with you in private.”

Ragnbjorn says, “Of course, let’s walk over here out of earshot.”

“Rain,” Fingol says softly, “if this concerns relations with the lizardfolk, I would like to hear it. The responsibility for this is chiefly mine.”

Rain says, “Sure thing, this is not so much private as I do not want others outside our group to hear.”

While Rain shares her information privately, Gar says softly to the group, “If Master Ailil is not fish food by the time we see you again, he will be a lucky man.”

Once out of earshot of the others, Rain says to Ragnbjorn, “Sir, I am sure you know full well that the fishmongers have their own agenda here but I wanted to relate something which I overheard from the boisterous one. It seems that they truly only care about their ability to fish in what they would consider their territory. It sounds like Ailill, specifically, would rather negotiations with the lizardfolk fail. You may know this already, but I wanted to share what I overheard.”

“Hmmm…” Fingol begins, “He said something similar to me. I thought I had put the idea into his head that trade with the lizardfolk would be far more profitable than a war. I suppose I will have to keep working on him.”

Ragnbjorn says, “Master Ailil is a plotter that’s for sure. We have long suspected him of being a Scarlet Brotherhood collaborator. Someone sent Noch after me to sabotage this mission. I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t him or one of his associates back in Westkeep. We shall keep an eye on him indeed. Thank you Rain.”

Rain bows slightly to Ragnbjorn, “You are welcome Sir. I will keep my ears open and let you know if I discover anything further.”

Fingol says, “Father Gar could pray for the gift of seeing Master Ailil’s aura.” Beckoning Gar to join them Fingol asks, “Father Gar, would you be able to use your divine power to discern Master Ailil’s aura? And would you need us to create a distraction while you exercise that gift?” 

“Uh… I can do so after tomorrow morning’s meditation if you wish, milords and milady. What did Master Ailil say to warrant this, if I may ask?” adds Gar.

Quickly Fingol summarizes the previous conversation, “Guardsman Rain was telling us of something Master Ailil had said. Evidently, he does not want the negotiations to be successful. Further, my father wonders if Master Ailil might have hired Noch as an assassin and provocateur. If that’s true, I’m sure there is some taint on his soul.”

“Well, just because the good master does not want the negotiations to succeed, does not make him evil. And even if there is a taint of evil about him, that does not automatically mean he hired Noch. Even so, I agree. He’s a wretched soul who should be checked out thoroughly. I wouldn’t mind him dead….” trails off Gar softly, looking around.

At this comment from Gar, Rain says nothing but her brows furrow and she looks away from Gar.

“I agree he must be checked out thoroughly,” replies Fingol, “And your divine gifts will not tell us all we need to know. But why do you say you would like him dead? That’s rather a stronger statement than I would expect… until we know more for certain.”

Gar chuckles softly and replies, “I’d slice open his neck myself if I didn’t think it would give me an evil taint as well. He’s been a pain in the ass since he’s been on this boat.” Gar smiles wryly. “There’s more than one way to negotiate.”

Once the meeting is over Rain reports back to Indranil when she is ready to depart. Indranil draws her aside. “Rain, I’d like you to be primarily responsible for Newt’s security. Don’t leave her side. I’d also like you to take care of her training in arms if she is going to be with us for any longer.”

“You got it,” Rain responds assuredly, as though she anticipated this.

Indranil smiles at Rain and says, “Thank you Rain. Adelina is a person of great importance to the Prince and Kingdom. I know I can count on you. I do not know you well, yet, but I sense there is more to you than meets the eye and that you are a person of great honor, integrity and capability. Once we are out in the field on a mission like this I don’t much care about all the pomp and circumstance and frills of nobility. As far as I am concerned we are all a team out here and depend on each other. A key survival tactic for us is open, honest and direct talk. Feel free to speak your mind to me anytime.”

“Oh one last question,” he asks with a warm smile, “why is Aramek always following you around like a lost puppy?”

Rain laughs at Indranil’s last question “Because I tell him to,” and smiles before continuing, “Aramek and I are good friends. Though naive at times his heart is true and when his power grows to match its size he will truly be a force to reckon with. I try to look out for him till that day. Besides, what idiot would not befriend a sorcerer given the chance?” She pauses then continues again, “And I very much appreciate your other words. As I’m sure you have noticed I am not much for following the rules of class separation. Titles are nothing to what a person shows their true worth to be by their actions. Respect is worth more than any title to me and I appreciate your trust. I don’t make friends easily, but those that are can count on me to watch their backs. And I have yours.” To this she offers her arm for the warrior’s handshake.

Indranil grasps her arm warmly and firmly.

Rain steps over to Newt and Aramek who are both waiting by the canoes with the rest of the scouting party and leads them a few feet from everyone else. Talking directly to Newt in an even, but not quite commanding voice, she says, “Okay, here is the deal. Until we get back to the Javan Queen you stick to me like glue. You sit next to me in the canoe, walk next to me, and once we get to the post you sleep next to me. At any point you are not able to reach out and touch me, you have strayed too far. Got it?” She finishes with a friendly smirk.

Assuming a positive response from Newt she turns to Aramek, “The usual deal with you and I, Aramek. We stay close and cover each other. Unless otherwise ordered, lets you and I ride and walk together. And if Newt strays from me I want you to zap her,” again finishing with a smirk as she pats Newt on the back a couple of times.

When things are finally sorted out, two canoes are prepared. Indranil sits in the back of the lead canoe, with Aramek in the middle, and Oro in front. The second canoe follows at 20 yards back with Lorindel in back, Newt in the middle, and Rain in front.

Before leaving, their extra gear is stored in the Javan Queen’s locker and Sergeant Apone sets a guard on it. This includes Noch’s coins. Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and Gar understand that these things are kept there and that they will be well guarded by locks, guardsmen, and the honor of Captain Olnut.

Indranil and Lorindel remain in their masterwork chainmail shirts, though the former also has his masterwork buckler. Indranil is armed with Noch’s magical longbow, his masterwork longsword, and dagger. Lorindel takes his masterwork composite shortbow, shortsword, and dagger. Both have their backpacks, waterskins, and rations, though Lorindel only takes two days worth as he will be returning if the others have to follow a trail, while Indranil takes seven.

Aramek, being a sorcerer, does not have to worry about carrying the weight of any mundane armor with him. For armaments he has his quarterstaff, masterwork dagger, light crossbow, sling and 40 bullets. He also carries his standard traveling gear with seven days rations.

Rain is in her leather armor and for armaments she has her longbow, shortsword, many daggers, and her traveling kit with various tools and implements.

Newt is a bit weighed down between her leather armor, longspear, dagger, shortsword, and standard kit with seven days worth of rations but there is no help for it. She lugs it around bravely, and is no slower than Indranil. Sergeant Apone comments that if she can get used to that, eat some more, and build up her strength she will be welcome to come back and join Captain Bodwyn’s Company.

The short trip back up the river to Cypress Hill is uneventful, though a bit tiring as they have to row against the – thankfully – sluggish current and deal with the strong winds out of the northwest. Dark clouds can be seen on the horizon and it is certain that it will rain again before the day is out.

Once they arrive at Cypress Hill, Indranil and Lorindel hide the canoes in the rushes. Indranil then sets up the order of march with himself on point. Oro follows 10 yards behind him, then Rain a further 10 yards back. Newt is to be right behind Rain, never more than five feet, with Aramek right behind her, and 10 yards behind their group Lorindel follows up as the rear guard. Indranil directs that whoever is point should have their bow strung, and he and Lorindel switch off point from hour to hour. There is also to be total silence and all communications will be by ranger battle sign or whispered consultations.

For the first hour they hustle along the trail that leads from the ruins of Cypress Hill back to Newt’s home. The winding path takes them along a slow-moving bayou. Ferns and vines hang out over the water. The insects buzz around them with a lazy drone of sound. It is very humid but mercifully not too warm otherwise. The trees growing out of the water are festooned with mosses along their trunks, dark and light green, some appearing very soft and fuzzy. Roots of plants along the riverbank stick out almost like webbing into the water. Vines, both fine and thick, link the trees well above the water’s surface. Flecks of sunlight make it through the thick canopy here and there to cause little pools of light on the dark water. A huge dark bird – the Marinus brothers recognize it as a heron – flies low and silently across the water’s surface. A big snake floats or swims very slowly in the water, just its eyes visible. Everyone drips with perspiration from their exertions and the growing humidity.

The next few hours they slow down to a more leisurely walk. In the mid-afternoon a thunderstorm can be heard in the distance. The sky darkens quickly until the trees are great grey shapes around them. The wind picks up and over their heads whips the leaves around. Thunder rumbles and the forest is briefly lit by a brilliant white light. The rain begins gently but soon is pelting down. It hits the leaves, making a pitter-patter sound and then splashing off. They can see little eruptions where the raindrops hit the murky water of the bayou paralleling the trail. Fish rise to the surface to investigate the disturbance. Some of them are very large, more than four feet long. Then the rain gets so intense that they cannot see the water. The rain falls in sheets for a few minutes and then it eases. The thunder is distant as the rain stops. Water drips off plants and runs down the tree trunks to gather in puddles. The humidity is nearly unbearable.

Xalakae’s scan reaches out with hiers secret senses to detect the presence of other minds. S/he does not scan the party members however. As Newt, she edges very slightly out of arm’s reach from Rain.

As the sun rises to the zenith, Chief Rhodophylax and six of his largest warriors reappear. They are in full regalia, with jewelry made of shells and bones and feathered crowns of many colors. They take up the poles they had brought earlier and reestablish the circle of honor within sight of the Javan Queen. A young Malarat shaman emerges from the trees and steps into the center of the circle. He invokes the blessing of Semuanya, the god of all lizardfolk, and then retires. Chief Rhodophylax, flanked by his warriors, opens his arms wide in greetings to Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and Gar. By this gesture they are invited to step into the circle. From the ship, Master Ailil and the other delegates look on sulkily.

Chief Rhodophylax, speaking in Draconic, addresses Ragnbjorn, “Welcome Sir Ragnbjorn. It is good to see you again. I am glad we had a chance to fight the Amedi together yesterday. When you first came with your King Skotti and his army, we stepped aside. But since that time the Amedi have been more troublesome to us. We do not blame you for this because they had been troublesome even before you came. It was inevitable that they would become more so. I am glad we finally have been able to fight them together. As I told you yesterday, we had been tracking them for some time and then found them waiting in ambush after destroying Cypress Hill. So we waited until they went back into the river.” He chuckles at this and says, “When they went after you we knew our chance had arrived. There are unfortunately more of them to deal with, but that was their main force in this area. Now you wanted me to meet these two?” He indicates Gar and Fingol.

Ragnbjorn is the next to speak, “Greetings to you as well. I too am glad that we have been able to fight together against the Amedi scourge. I am pleased to introduce to you my son, Fingol. He is also a member of the King’s Rangers. He had not yet passed his trials when I first came through here. Since then, he has become as fine a ranger as I would hope. He has spent the last few months traveling through the marshes. Unfortunately, I think there have been some misunderstandings and he was fired upon by Malarat warriors. He reported these troubles to the Prince-Governor in Westkeep and was asked by Prince Prospero to be his envoy to you, to see if we could find a way to preserve peace between our peoples. I was asked to guide him here and act as translator if he should need it. Fortunately, he has learned quite a bit over the last few days and, though a bit rough, I believe his Draconian is passable and he can now speak for himself.

“This is Father Gar. He is a priest in the service of Obad-Hai and came as an emissary of the Great Druidess of the Sheldomar Valley to the Prince-Governor. The Prince also asked him to come with us and speak to you.”

Chief Rhodophlyax says, “I am pleased to meet you all. Yes, there have been some… misunderstandings of late.” He looks over to the delegates on the boat. “Though I suspect the trouble is not with those from Keoland but with those who have always given us trouble, no matter whom their rulers may be.” He turns back to Fingol. “Please accept my apologies for the actions of some of our more overzealous warriors.”

Chief Rhodophylax snaps his fingers and one of the warriors comes forward with three sets of necklaces made of alligator teeth. The Chief says, “Please accept these as tokens of our friendship. Any of those who follow me will know not to attack those who wear these. Also, please feel free to call me Chief Rahk,” he says this last with a toothy grin, one that would cause most humans to step back a few paces if it were not accompanied by the Chief’s friendly tone and kind words.

Gar bows his head deep. “Thank you, Chief Rahk. It’s beautiful. I will wear it always,” as he puts it over his head to hang upon his neck.

After that, other lizardfolk emerge from the forest bearing jars and bowls. All in the circle of honor are served fermented fruit juices, and delicacies made of the bounty of the swamp. After sufficient time has passed engaging in pleasantries they return to the business at hand.

Chief Rahk turns to Gar and asks, “So Father Gar, we have great respect for Obad-Hai and the Great Druidess. Perhaps you should tell me your message first, so I may keep it in mind as I hear what Sir Fingol has to say.”

With palms together, Gar spits and stutters his gratitude in broken Draconic, “Thank you Chief Rahk for swim fast when heard from friend Lord Heslex we hunt but not hunt you. And thank you saving us from Amedi.

“The Big Druidess of Flan dreams of something not natural and long hidden in your marshes. She believes somehow connected with you, honorable lizardfolk, for you appear in her dreams. She sees you leave your homes, by force or choice she not know. In your wake, she sees a great flood come down River Javan sweep away all living beings, a flood that engulfs the world. Though she cannot see them in her dream, she feels dead things in that flood, or things that should stay dead. They want destroy all life, all harmony, all balance.

“She also hear reports from our people that the humans of Westkeep go deeper into marshes to find food and be clashing with the lizardfolk. She fear if war between Westkeep and lizardfolk, you go away and disaster she see will occur even sooner.

“The Shalm come to me in visions recently too. He want our peoples make common cause to make harmony in marshes, to avert disaster.”

Gar notices Chief Rahk tense up ever so slightly as he spoke of the lizardfolk leaving their homes and of a flood coming down the Javan River filled with dead things. It is as though he recognized exactly what Gar was speaking of but did not want to betray the knowledge.

Chief Rahk nods, “I thank you for your words Father Gar. Now Sir Fingol, as the envoy of your Prince-Governor, what do you have to say to me?”

Fingol gives a slight bow, “Prince Prospero seeks to keep the friendship of the Malarat. He has not forgotten when the Malarat stepped aside, allowing his force to move through the Marsh. His appreciation and regard has not waned.

“He seeks also safety and peace for you and your people. He has heard Father Gar’s messages and taken heed. He knows that if your people fall, his will feel the hammer stroke next.

“Therefore, he seeks to look past any misunderstandings, as do I. And if you have had misunderstandings with people in the past, it is perhaps because they do not understand how important your friendship can be. I thank you and your warriors for their decisive action in the fight with the Amedi. I pray that it has opened eyes.”

Chief Rahk nods towards Master Ailil and the fishermen delegates. “There are some people whose eyes will never open. They are incorrigible slanderers of my people and others. I will only deal with you if you can promise to deal with them. But there are other things I believe we must discuss first. There is the matter of the Amedi, especially those who use the skeletal war paint.”

Fingol tries hard not to look at Master Ailil, but he nods his head at Chief Rahk’s accusation. At the mention of, “I will only deal with you if you can promise to deal with them,” Fingol gives a strong affirmative nod. That is of course, why he is here.

Ragnbjorn says, “Father Gar, didn’t you say that they were called Deathwalkers in one of your dreams. I think we should refer to them as such from now on to differentiate them from the other Amedi warriors. These Deathwalkers seem to be something new. The other Amedi were always commanded by Scarlet Brotherhood agents, but these don’t seem to be connected with them at all.”

Gar bobs his head up and down while they speak of the Deathwalkers, in silent agreement.

Chief Rahk says, “Yes, we have had no problems hunting down or driving away the other Amedi who fled Westkeep when your forces took it. Nor have we had problems with any of the bands of hobgoblins and orcs who deserted the Scarlet Brotherhood cause over the years and tried to find refuge in the marshes. They are all but gone now. Over the past few weeks however these Deathwalkers as you call them have been coming down the Hool River, attacking trading posts and villages. They are especially drawn to certain ruins scattered throughout the marshes. This is what has made many of my warriors especially touchy. The other reason is the entangling of all the bayous by the fishermen of Westkeep.” Chief Rahk snorts and then says, “I’d almost suggest we allow the Deathwalkers to take care of the fishermen… but they are a direct threat to my people and so we will not step aside and let them have their way.”

Ragnbjorn says, “Yes, about that. Before we discuss what to do about the Deathwalkers or the fishermen, there is a little matter I need to have dealt with. The girl Adelina, or Newt as she is called, believes her parents may still be alive. Her home is a half a day’s walk away from Cypress Hill. I know that is in the direction of your village, which is a three days walk away. In the company of four of my men, I wish to allow her to return to her home and see if her parents have returned there or if there are any clues as to what may have become of them. Will they be able to do this without danger?”

It is hard to read Chief Rahk’s reptilian features, but he ponders this with what seems a grave look. Finally he says, “There may be more Deathwalkers out there. I cannot guarantee their safety, though I think we destroyed their main force in this area. We will give all of your men necklaces such as I gave you. That will protect them from my folk, and I will also send word out as well. However, they should go no farther in the direction of our village to the north. Not even those who wear the necklaces are free to do that now.”

As Chief Rahk speaks, both Ragnbjorn and Gar realize that there is much that he is not saying. That in fact, the Deathwalkers may have attacked or even razed the home village of the Malarat tribe already but Chief Rahk does not wish to admit this to them.

Gar bows his head with emotive respect, “Thank you Chief Rahk. I do hope your village is safe. Has it been taken by the Deathwalkers and the fears of the Great Druidess already come to pass?” Gar’s concern for the lizardfolk is heartfelt.

Fingol looks concerned at this idea.

Chief Rahk turns a bit huffy and says, “No one takes anything from us!” Then he becomes a bit more subdued again. “But yes, the Deathwalkers have already attacked our village. We are rebuilding it now. That is why we were waiting for the chance to destroy them.”

Ragnbjorn asks, “Chief Rahk, perhaps you could spare a guide or perhaps even one of your shamans to go with Sir Indranil and the others who are taking this girl Newt back to her home.”

Chief Rahk replies sadly, “I have no shamans to spare at this time, but I could perhaps spare a guide. That would be best. Such a guide could keep them from straying too near our village if they should have to follow a trail away from this girl’s home.”

“Thank you Chief Rahk,” replies Gar. “You mentioned earlier that the Deathwalkers are attracted to certain ruins in the marshes. Last night the Shalm sent me a dream of a long lost city built into cliff walls where the Deathwalkers now live. Do you know where that might be?”

“Yes! Chief Rahk,” adds Fingol “the city he describes would be in unusual territory for the marsh. The cliffs he describes would be 300′ high, with waterfalls spilling down.”

Chief Rahk responds, “I have never seen anything like that around here. All I know is that there are ruins scattered throughout the marshes. Some of the mounds out in the marshes are actually covered ruins. There is one site that I know of where the Deathwalkers have a shrine. It is a three days march from here. After they attacked our village we traced them back to it and I led an assault on it. But we were beaten back. The power of their god is strong indeed.” He looks to Gar, “But maybe now that you are here we can prevail. Join us Father Gar. Now that their main force has been beaten we can lead a force there composed of you Keolanders and my warriors and with the power of Obad-Hai on our side we can clear these Deathwalkers from the marshes. Perhaps we can force some of these Deathwalkers to tell us where they come from. Or perhaps the shrine itself will provide a clue.”

Fingol says nothing as he’s not been addressed and he is not in charge of the men. He looks to his father eagerly, as if begging him to agree.

Gar grunts while touching Obad-Hai and spits a fire dart off to one side, his head bobbing up and down in animated agreement. “Yes sir! The Shalm and I would be happy to follow you into battle, Chief!” Looking towards his comrades he asks, “Milords?”

Ragnbjorn looks to Fingol and grins seeing Fingol’s expectant look. “Fingol, the military are here to provide security and in any other way assist in bringing about a peaceful solution to the tension between the Malarat tribe of lizardfolk and the people of Westkeep. It’s your call if you think that helping Chief Rahk clear out a death cult will help interspecies relations and restore peace and balance to the Hool Marshes.” He gives Gar a wink as he says the last part.

Gar smiles wide and looks over at Fingol, knowing what he will say.

“I can think of no better way to show our good will than to stand with our friends,” Fingol replies happily.

“The Shalm has been urging us in dreams to root out the disease taking hold in the swamp. I am sure this is what he meant,” grunts Gar in Draconic.

Chief Rahk says, “It is settled then. We shall march together on these Deathwalkers and destroy their shrine to cleanse our homeland. We have much planning and preparation to do. But first, you said that you are going to send your people out to find this girl’s parents. I will send one of our warriors, Ourocalchax to your boat as your guide. You may call him Oro. He will have with him five more necklaces as tokens of our trust and friendship for your men providing they are men you trust.”

Ragnbjorn responds, “They are indeed, though one of them is a woman actually, in addition to the girl Newt. My second-in-command, Sir Indranil, is one of those going with them. He is a half-elven member of the King’s Rangers and I would trust him with my life, as I would his brother Sir Lorindel who is also going with them. The other two are members of Captain Bodwyn’s Guard, a half-elven sorcerer named Aramek, and a young woman named Rain. They have proven their courage and loyalty repeatedly.”

Chief Rahk grunts his approval. “We will feast here together tonight then. I will send young Oro to meet this girl and her escorts. May they find all they hunt for.”

On the boat before getting his own gear, Indranil looks in on Newt, Aramek, and Rain and says, “Change in plan good people, please prepare yourselves for seven days in the field. Aramek please make sure the captain prepares enough provisions for us for seven days. We will all share the load between us in our packs. Rain, please make sure Adelina is well prepared for the journey.”

“Will do, Sir Indranil!” Aramek replies. “I’ll grab my things here and go talk to the captain right now.” 

“Seven days?” Rain asks Indranil. “That is a big change. Where are we going?”

Indranil responds, “Sir Ragnbjorn has given us the task to try and follow the trail of Adelina’s parents if we do not find them at home. We must be prepared if Adelina is able to point us in a direction. If so, we will send Sir Lorindel back to camp to get the rest of the party. We can’t afford to lose any time!”

“Will do, thanks Sir Indranil.” Rain turns to complete the check of her equipment.

Aramek takes his own gear and heads up on deck to let Captain Olnut know how many days worth of provisions they will need.

Indranil goes to collect his own gear, weapons, armor and pack, and then heads back to the riverbank to await his party.

Newt asks, “Rain, Sir Ragnbjorn said I should use Dale’s armor, and I should get a dagger and longspear. Can you help me get those things?” Newt shoulders her pack of other gear.

Just then, Sgt. Apone and Dale come in bearing Dale’s old armor, a spear and a dagger. Sergeant Apone begins outfitting Newt.

Once the leather armor is adjusted for her height and weight and they have all moved back to the riverbank to perform drills it becomes obvious to Rain and the Marinus brothers that the leather armor is about all Newt can handle. Newt looks (and feels) very small, even on the safe end of the shortsword, and more so holding the spear. While Newt is serviceably competent with the dagger and spear, she is hopeless with the sword which is too heavy for her. Finally it is time for some practice bouts.

“Since I’m a ranged attacker and constantly in motion,” says Lorindel, “it’s probably not going to be practical for Newt to practice her offensive skills against me. Perhaps someone else should go first,” he suggests.

“When she’s ready to work on defense though, I’ll give it a shot,” continues Lorindel as he cracks a slight grin.

Newt looks very apprehensive about the proposed bout. “Um… is this, strictly speaking, really necessary? Can we fit in some ranged practice, too? Or better yet, instead of?”

Rain smiles, steps up to Newt gently and says, “Don’t worry Newt, let’s give this a try first” and hands her a practice dagger. Then Rain takes a practice dagger herself and stands ten feet from Newt and says, “Whenever you are ready.”

Newt flips the dagger so she holds the tip, and then flings it, spinning, at Rain’s chest. Unfortunately for Newt it flies past Rain’s ear.

Rain takes advantage of Newt’s having disarmed herself to move in and land a solid blow with her practice dagger on Newt’s leather protected gut. “Ow!” Newt yelps involuntarily.

Newt quickly backpedals and scoops up the practice spear lying behind her and amazingly is able to thrust it at Rain before Rain can follow up on her last attack. Now it is Rain who is struck in the left foot as she fails to leap back in time. Rain swiftly counterattacks and lands a ringing blow on Newt’s helmet.

Rain then seizes the initiative and lands another resounding blow on Newt’s helmet. To Newt’s considerable credit she is unfazed by blows that would have downed anyone else in the squadron including Rain and she fights on, coming within a half-inch of poking Rain in the left leg again with the padded tip of her spear.

Rain almost stumbles and has to scramble to get out of the way as Newt continues to come at her with the spear.

Finally Rain counterattacks but her blow glances aside from Newt’s armor. Newt cracks Rain on the head with the butt of her spear and forces Rain to back off.

Then with the swiftness and cunning she is known for Rain slips back in under Newt’s guard and raps her painfully on the right wrist, causing Newt to drop her spear with a yelp. The fight is over, but Newt proved herself to be far from the pushover that Rain had been expecting. Both girls are breathing hard.

Rain offers Newt a handshake to her non-injured hand. “Nice moves Newt. I especially liked the opening knife throw. Just a thought though: next time you should be sure you have a backup weapon before you throw yours away. Very well done though.”

“Thanks,” Newt replies. “The throw was a calculated risk. I figured it was my best chance to get you. And besides, the spear was nearby. You’re a lot quicker than most fish, though.”

Indranil nudges Lorindel and smiles saying, “Oh ho! A trickster in our midst! Well brother she has already mastered the first rule of combat: do the unexpected! I think she has the making of a fine warrior with the proper training.”

“Indeed, Indranil,” agrees Lorindel. “I am truly surprised and impressed.”

Newt overhears Sir Indranil and, with a wince, responds, “Do all warriors hurt this much after just practicing? Every time?”

Indranil lets out a long and hearty laugh, “Dear girl you have no idea! You will hurt in places you never knew you had! You did well though and you should be proud.”

Rain adds, “Sir Indranil speaks true, you got the drop on me a couple of times. Use speed to your advantage, but always carry an extra dagger,” she says with a wink.

“Thank you, milord.” Newt cringes a bit, thinking of all the places that hurt now, and wondered just what other places Sir Indranil meant. She didn’t look forward to finding out.

“And thank you, Rain. I’ll keep your advice just as soon as I acquire a second dagger.”

Indranil says, “Okay. We have time for one more bout then we have to leave. Adelina, let’s see if you can get the better of me.”

Newt gently massages her right wrist and moves to collect the practice dagger and tucks it in her belt. “Yes milord.” This time she starts with the padded spear.

Sergeant Apone comes over with a much longer padded spear and says, “Newt, you might want to try this. With the longspear you can keep any foes well away from you, though you’ll have to be careful if they slip inside your guard.”

“Thank you, Sgt. Apone. I’ll try to keep them at the business end.” Newt accepts the longer spear and tests its balance.

Without armor, Indranil takes up his longsword and heavy shield.

Indranil allows Newt to attack first. After she gets used to the weight and balance of the longspear, she manages to score a hit on Indranil’s right foot. Indranil counterattacks, slipping inside her guard and cracking her on the right thigh with his practice sword.

Newt backs off quickly and again tries to stab Indranil, but she has moved too far back.

Cautiously she advances on Indranil but still he is able to keep his shield in the way of her spearpoint. Indranil moves in on her again and she almost stumbles as she gives ground, leaving herself open to another blow by Indranil, this time a stinging blow on her ribs that she feels through her leather cuirass.

Indranil almost trips as she sweeps her spear down forcing him to jump over it. She backs off but is unable to land a blow.

Moving in on Indranil again she manages to connect with a hard blow to his helmet. Indranil counterattacks immediately, agilely slipping in under her guard again, but she too is agile and is able to dodge his blow.

Indranil persists and stays Newt’s guard, landing another blow to her ribs. Newt finally succeeds in backing off and is able to poke Indranil in the left arm.

Indranil swiftly moves inside her guard once more and lands a blow to Newt’s left foot as she gives ground. But she is able to land another blow to Indranil’s helmet.

Once more Indranil slips past her guard and lands a painful crack to her left knuckles. Newt drops the spear and the second bout is over.

“Ow! Mmgh!” Newt takes a few breaths to calm herself as she rubs both bruised hands. Muttering to herself, she says, “Now both hands hurt. At least there’s a kind of balance there.”

Gritting her teeth against the pain (which seems to come from all over), she addresses Indranil, “Thank you for the lesson, milord. Given a choice, I’d rather shoot you – I mean, an enemy!” she amends quickly, “than get close like that. Ooh, my ribs!”

Indranil responds, “Fair Adelina, you did very well! You will make a fine warrior with practice. I dare say I have a few more bruises myself!”

“Lorindel, please have everyone head over and pick a canoe that can hold us all and wait for me there. I am taking Adelina off to see Father Gar for a bit of healing before we leave and to get final direction from Sir Ragnbjorn. We should be back within a quarter of an hour.”

Rain asks, “Sir Indranil, mind if I join you? I have something I would like to tell Sir Ragnbjorn before we leave.”

Aramek asks, “Mind if I tag along?”

Sergeant Apone says wryly, “Oh yes, by all means the members of my squad should be pestering the commander of this mission while he is in the middle of delicate negotiations with the chieftain of a hostile tribe of non-humans who could kill us all if he thinks we’re looking at him funny.” He turns to Indranil, “But I’ll leave it up to you sir, you’re in charge.”

Rain responds reluctantly, “Yes of course you are right Sgt. I had not noticed that he was already in negotiations. My information for Sir Ragnbjorn can wait till we return.” She then grabs her pack and bow and heads to shore as ordered by Sir Indranil.

Indranil looks over and sees Ragnbjorn, Fingol, and Gar deep in the middle of negotiations with Chief Rahk. He looks back to the scouting party and says, “Well it would be unseemly to disturb them now. Adelina, you, Rain and I will have to live with our bruises from the practice bout. No major injuries, just a bit of discomfort. All things considered it will help you remember your lessons all the better. Consider this your second combat lesson: a warrior’s life is full of constant aches and pains.

“Rain and Aramek whatever you wanted to say to Sir Ragnbjorn will have to wait until we get back, or if it is related to our purposes here then best say to me now. Do you have something to say?”

“Yes milord” says Newt, a bit glumly. Picking up her pack, spear, etc., Newt moves to help with the canoe.

Thinking back as she goes, Newt chuckles a bit, as if enjoying a private joke. Those close might hear her speak, very quietly mimicking the Sergeant’s, ” ‘But I’ll leave it up to you sir, you’re in charge.’ Heh heh. That was good.”

“Sir Indranil,” Aramek says with a serious tone to his voice. “I realize that I am young and new to Westkeep, and that many here may consider me just a lowly guardsman; but I am responsible for our safety to the best of my abilities. I just want to make sure that I know what’s going on. Through no one’s fault I have been somewhat in the dark about our plans and I just want to make sure I don’t miss any important information from any unintentional oversight, since all our lives may, at some point, depend on my abilities. I honestly don’t mean any disrespect to you, Sir Indranil, or any other members of our group. And please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn.” At this rather long speech, Aramek blushes profusely.

Indranil looks at Aramek, cocks his heads and then looks over at Sergeant Apone with a raised eye brow, “Rain, do you wish to add something?”

Rain chuckles at the situation knowing full well how Aramek feels. Then sobering and looking Indranil in the eyes she says in a low voice, “Only that I overheard the fishmongers talking earlier today. They only seem to care about their ability to fish in what they would consider their territory and it is likely that Ailill would rather negotiations with the lizardfolk fail. I am sure that Sir Ragnbjorn knows this, but I would appreciate you informing him before we leave. Besides that, I agree and stand by Master Aramek’s request… sir.”

Starday Noon, Fireseek 8, 591 Common Year

After dinner, held on the riverbank, Ragnbjorn gathers Fingol, Gar, the Marinus brothers, and Sergeant Apone aside. “Gentlemen, a few things have been decided, a few things need to be told, and one thing at least needs to be done. First of all, I want to make it clear to all of you that Fingol is in charge of the diplomatic side of this mission. The Prince put him in charge and none of us should gainsay that. Father Gar is beholden to neither side, but is here as a neutral intermediary that both sides, hopefully, will respect. I am in charge of military matters and security, but Sir Indranil is to be my second in command, with Lorindel after him. This is so that Fingol can concentrate on diplomatic matters, but also because the Marinus brothers do have seniority by at least a couple of years. Now, Father Gar, please share your vision and your dream.”

Gar steps forward and relates his vision from the previous day and his dream during the night. “Obad-High clearly told me in vision and dream that we must help the lizardfolk and they will help us. Furthermore, that Newt knows where we must go. She is to lead us to an ancient ruined city where her parents have been taken by the Deathwalkers, the worshippers of Thanatos. The city is patrolled by them and there are also beast-men lurking there as well. After dreaming of this city, I awoke.”

Ragnbjorn then says, “Father Gar has informed me that he is able to create a Zone of Truth, a circle wherein all those inside must speak truthfully. This spell will only last three minutes. I propose that we question this Newt or Adelina. She appears to be an innocent victim in all this, but we must be certain. After Noch I don’t feel like taking chances anymore. In addition, if Father Gar’s dreams are true, she is perhaps a key figure in all this. She can perhaps lead us to the source of this Thanatos cult. We should also help her rescue her parents if they can be rescued. Of course I wonder what possible use the Deathwalkers could have for a fisherman and his wife. Perhaps they are to be used for some kind of sacrifice. If that is the case, what kind of power would such a sacrifice arouse? Anyway, I say we let Father Gar cast this spell and have Sir Indranil question her. If her answers are satisfactory we should see if we can fit her with Dale’s old armor once it’s fixed up and adjusted. Then give her a spear and a dagger to go with the sword Rain has already given to her, though gods know that she’s more likely to hurt herself with a weapon like that than anyone else right now. She doesn’t even look strong enough to wield it with any effect. But I suppose if she is the one who can lead us to this city and the Deathwalkers then the time to train and build her strength is now. But if she refuses this test or her answers reveal that she is not be trusted, then needless to say we must get that sword away from her and keep her under a close watch. Are we agreed?”

“I agree,” Fingol responds with a nod.

Lorindel gives an affirmative nod.

Indranil bows low to Sir Ragnbjorn and says, “I will do as you entrust sir. It is an important commission you have laid upon me. Please allow me 15 minutes to meditate and collect myself to focus my mind and ask Her Lady for guidance.” Indranil then goes down below decks to meditate.

Fingol scratches his nose to hide the look of, ‘Oh, get over yourself already’ that washes over his face.

Looking up, Fingol interjects, “Father and Sir Indranil, if I may suggest something. The girl seems eager to please. Perhaps it is not necessary to use this spell. Let’s ask her to simply tell her tale. I expect she will be forthcoming. In the course of the telling, we may learn better what information to ask about while we use the spell to learn more or verify what she says. It’s certain that three minutes is a very short time. If she were an agent of evil, she could evade the effect of the magic with one dissembling answer. We should know just what we need to ask before the spell is cast.”

Ragnbjorn says, “That sounds like a good idea. Learn what we can without the use of magic, and get a sense of her that way. Then we can use the magic to make sure of the truth of her tale.”

Indranil, “If she wants to lie she is going to lie and asking her any questions won’t tell us a thing, so using the spell is our only assurance. I appreciate the sentiment behind this, but perhaps the alternative is to ask her permission to undergo the spell and if she agrees we can take her good intent and simply ask the questions without the magical compulsion. If she disagrees then we know she is an enemy and we should just put her under the spell.”

Ragnbjorn nods, “Yes, there is sense in that too. Here is what I propose. We should bring her over here and ask her to tell her story from the beginning without any compulsion. Then we should ask her if she will submit to specific questions within the Zone of Truth. If she readily agrees we will simply ask the questions, but if we get a sense she is lying or being evasive we will use the spell. However, if she will not agree to submit to the spell, we cannot force her to answer. I will not permit her to be coerced. But in such a case, until she submits, she will be confined below deck and guarded. Can we agree on this?”

Fingol says, “I agree, and apologize for any delay or confusion.” 

Ragnbjorn says, “Not at all. You are right that we should learn what we can without magic first, for that will take longer than the three minutes Father Gar can give us. And if the questions can be asked with her agreement and honestly answered, then we may not need to resort to magical compulsions. Okay Sir Indranil, go off and reflect and prepare your questions. Fingol, please go bring Newt here.”  

Fingol nods and trots off looking for Newt. 

After 15 minutes Indranil appears above deck and approaches the group again. With a bow he states, “I am ready to begin. This spell is a great intrusion upon someone’s free will and should not be taken lightly. I pray Adelina, if an innocent, will forgive us for such compulsive tactics.”

While Ragnbjorn’s conference is going on, Rain smiles at Aramek and says, “Hey Aramek, I’m gonna go make some practice swords to teach Newt to fight a bit. Wanna come with? We haven’t had a much of a chance to talk lately.”

Aramek smiles and says, “You bet! I’d rather help you with Newt than stand around wondering what sort of vacation plans lord Ragnbjorn and the others are planning for us.” And with that he heads off with Rain.

Rain openly chuckles “Heh yah, I hate not being involved in the game plan though. I am not a big blind follower of others machinations.”

Rain and Aramek head off to make four suitable weapons from bamboo river reeds near the river, being careful not to stray too far from the area. After cutting down four suitable practice weapons, they head back to the boat.

After dinner, Xalakae watches the conference from a distance. S/he is curious, but knows s/he doesn’t belong there and isn’t ready to risk getting in range to “listen in.” Instead, s/he busies herself learning the layout of the keelboat and watching the crew.

Fingol comes over to Newt saying, “Hello young lady! My father and his friends have been discussing your story. I think he would like to hear the details of how you came to live here, and how you survived the attack. Would you mind telling your story to us?”

“Coming milord,” Newt replies to Sir Fingol. She follows him to the council.

When indicated, she steps forward. She curtsies in greeting with a polite, “Milords.” They can all see that, cleaned up and dressed in proper clothes, she is a pretty young girl with wavy black hair and dark eyes who will most likely grow up to be a beautiful young woman.

“Thank you for joining us Adelina, or Newt if you’d prefer,” begins Ragnbjorn. “Now that things have calmed down a bit, could you please tell us about yourself and what happened to you, your family, and Cypress Hill.”

“Well, my family lives a bit away from the trading post, Cypress Hill. We make our living fishing for crab, shrimp, and sometimes other things, and selling them at the trading post. We were there to buy supplies, not to sell a catch, when we heard the screaming start.” Newt closes her eyes sadly, recalling the scene and collecting herself. ”We saw the attackers down the path. It looked like they were killing everyone! Mother grabbed me and pulled me in the other direction. Father came, too, and we ran toward the creek that runs into the river. The screams and fighting kept getting louder, and I could see smoke from the burning buildings.” Tears come to her eyes and Newt’s voice chokes up.

“My parents put me under the overturned boat with the big hole in it. It wasn’t that big, and they couldn’t fit under with me.” Newt fights back near-full sobs as she goes on. ”They told me they love me, and that I had to wait there and keep quiet until they came back for me. Then they ran off.”

Newt takes a few deep breaths before providing more of the story. ”I waited, like they said and kept in the dark part under the boat. I could see out a bit, and saw some of the people killed by the painted attackers. They had tanned skin, and painted skeletal patterns on themselves. After a while, the screaming stopped. I crouched farther into the shadow. All I could hear was the sound of burning buildings.”

Newt pauses briefly. ”When nothing happened, I didn’t know what to do. I stayed there all night, wondering if the painted men would find me. I waited all day, and my legs cramped up. When it was fully dark, I snuck out. There was nothing left. It was all burned to the ground. Nothing moved except some crows, and everyone was dead. There was a terrible stench in the air.

“I didn’t stay out long. It didn’t feel safe. The next day, around dusk, I went out again, looking for food or water. There was nothing at all. They must have taken it, or burned it with the rest of the trading post.

“On the third day, I crept out early. Since I’d seen nobody, I thought it was safe enough to look for food in the daylight. When I saw the boat coming, I didn’t know who was on it, and I was too far from my hiding place so I hid in the reeds. I came out when I saw Father Gar and was sure you weren’t the attackers come back.” With a final sniff, Newt looks from eye to eye around the circle, and then finishes with another curtsy and bow of her head, “And that’s all, milords.”

Indranil looks at Adelina with a mixture of sadness and respect and says, “Adelina you are brave beyond your years. Understand that as long as you remain with us you will be safe as long as I breathe.”

Turning to Ragnbjorn he says, “Sir Ragnbjorn perhaps we might ask her now if she will submit to our questions?”

Ragnbjorn nods and says, “Indeed, now is the time. Adelina, Sir Indranil has some specific questions to ask you on behalf of us all to make sure that you are not a threat to us. Will you agree to answer them honestly?”

Gar nods toward Ragnbjorn and wipes a tear out of his eye. “Milord, if I may?”

“Yes, milord, of course. What are your questions?”

Inside, Xalakae goes cold. What could they possibly ask that s/he hadn’t already told? Could they possibly suspect?

Outwardly, Newt presented a simple face, recovering from the harsh memory of the attack.

Gar then adds, “Milady Newt, I believe you completely. I suspect we all do. However, would you kindly consent to be questioned about your story while under a truth spell cast by me? You will be completely safe. I promise. As Sir Ragnbjorn said, my friend Sir Indranil here would like to ask you some questions. Will that be ok?”

“Um, I’ve never been under such a spell before, but, yes. That will be okay, Father Gar.” Xalakae just can’t see a way out of consenting without giving them cause for suspicion.

“Before we begin that, I would like to ask Adelina something.” Fingol interjects, “Besides, the more we know before that spell the better it will be.” Turning to Newt he says, “Adelina, do you think your parents might still be Okay, somehow? And if you were to go look for them, which way would you go?”

Gar’s eyes dart back and forth between the two, watching for reactions.

Throughout the exchange, Lorindel’s gaze remains squarely on Newt as he carefully studies her expressions and mannerisms.

“If it pleases you, milord, I looked all around the trading post and I did not find them. Because of that, I hold out hope that they are still among the living, ‘though it is slim hope indeed. If I were to seek them out, I would go back to our home. It is some walk from the settlement. It was probably not noticed by the attackers. If my parents returned to look for me and I wasn’t there – at the trading post, I mean – they’d be likely to go to our home next as go anywhere else. Oh!” Newt exclaims with a mixture of hope and sorrow, “They may be found there if they don’t think me dead.”

After Newt’s response, Gar stands up and says, “Let us all pray to the gods that this dear heart’s parents can somehow remain safe. Shall I cast our circle of truth now?” Gar looks from Adelina to Fingol to Indranil.

Indranil looks over at Gar and Ragnbjorn and says, “Sir Ragnbjorn and
Father Gar, I believe she has been truthful and honest with us so far, and
her willingness to submit to your spell shows good faith and intention. I
believe we can ask her the questions unaided by magic.”

Ragnbjorn nods and says simply, “Proceed, Sir Indranil.”

Gar silently nods his agreement.

On their way back from making bamboo practice swords, Rain and Aramek see that Newt is being questioned by Ragnbjorn and the others in a clearing. Rain stops to watch from the edge of the clearing, for about a moment and then somberly says, “Let’s go,” and heads back to the boat where she climbs to the top of the deckhouse, sits and plays her flute, the somber notes of mourning reflecting her feelings for what Newt has gone thru these past days.

As Xalakae steps forward to answer the questions, s/he concentrates on being Newt, and answering only as Newt would. S/he is Newt, s/he tells heirmself. She focuses on Newt’s memories, not knowing if these people have some ability like heir own and not wanting them to see Xalakae’s thoughts.

Newt awaits the first question from Indranil.

“Is your name Adelina?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Other than Newt, what other names do you have?”

“None, milord. My parents always just called me Newt, unless I was in trouble. Then they called me Adelina.”

 “Are you another being, deity, or demon disguised as Adelina?”

“Another being, milord? What do you mean? No, I am just Adelina.”

“Do you serve good or evil?”

“I do believe we should all help others for good whenever we can, ‘though I have not sworn to any deity or power, milord.” Newt continues, with a firm expression, “I do not serve evil, and never will!”

“Are you sworn to anyone, any sect, or any society?”

“Milord, I have sworn to no-one. I am a free person, within my obligations to the realm and my loyalty is otherwise to my family.”

“Are you on a quest or mission?”

“No, milords, unless you count finding my parents. If you would have me, I would be happy to serve you while I may.”

As anyone would be, Newt is somewhat uncomfortable being questioned like this. She hadn’t expected it, and the questions are so suspicious! She tries to be as forthcoming and innocent as possible, fearing that they may misconstrue her responses even those she can answer honestly.

“Do you mean anyone in this expedition party harm or ill will?”

Shocked at the possibility and openly showing it, Newt responds “No, milords! No! I am most grateful to you and your men for the kind and generous aid they have rendered unto me! How could I repay such kindness with ill deeds?” Newt is inwardly offended that they even might think such things of her.

“Who are your parents?”

“My parents are Ulmar and Saeva, though it feels strange to me to call them by their grown-up names.” She quickly adds, “…milords,” not wanting to be disrespectful.

“Are they more than simple fisherman?

“Well, milords, father and mother both had many skills and could read and write,” Newt adds, smiling proudly. “They taught me to read and write, too, and some numbers! I’m certain father could find work in any city, and my parents had talked of moving us to a city when I was old enough.”

“Have they ever been more than simple fisherman?”

“No, milords, ‘though I think they did other things to earn a living before I was born.”

“Do you have any idea what they might have done before?”

“I don’t know, milord” Newt says, somewhat abashedly. “They didn’t talk too much about it, and I didn’t attend. They have only been fishermen by trade in my life.”

“Why does the Thanatos cult want your parents?”

Confused, Newt responds, “What? What is the Thantos cult, milords? What do you mean ‘they’?” Stammering a bit in confusion, Newt continues, “What do you mean, milords? How could this cult want my parents? We have nothing to do with any cult. My family has never had any dealings with cults.”

“Well then, do you know where the Thanatos cult might be found?”

A bit afraid now, and not liking the questions that seem to be trying to cast guilt on her although she was innocent, “Please, milords, I know not of this cult!” Newt tears up a bit again – feeling almost betrayed that they don’t seem to trust her.

“Are you aware of any traps or ambushes along the way that will do us harm?”

“Along what way, milord?” Newt is trying mostly successfully to hold back a full cry now. She may be brave in some circumstances, but doesn’t like being mistrusted by her new comrades, ”To my home there are none. To this cult you speak of, I cannot say.”

“Do you possess hidden upon you or within you any talisman of magical power?”

“No, milords, I have no such talisman. We are but fisher folk, and not rich enough for things of that sort.” In order to throw off any mind readers, Newt thinks of any jewelry her mother, Saeva, had, and wonders if any of it was more than it had seemed.

Gar senses that Newt is not so sure in her last response. She even seems for a moment to be trying to recall if in fact her family had possessed such a thing.

Fingol is looking at Newt with real sympathy. He glances over at Sir Indranil occasionally, watching for the end. Geez, thinks Fingol, I thought my question was pretty mean! Well, had to be asked, I guess.

Indranil takes a deep breath and looks warmly at Adelina, blinks his eyes a few times and dips his head then looks away. After a moment, he turns to the others and says, “I pushed her hard, and to her limit I think. I do not sense any evil or deception in her answers. I think what we have been told and see with our own eyes is the truth of it. I would feel comfortable with her joining our expedition.”

Indranil turns back to Adelina and bows low to her and softly says, “Good Adelina, please forgive me for being so direct and firm with you, we have been under great threat these last weeks from attacks of Scarlet Brotherhood assassins, traitors, rioters, undead ghouls and Amedi warriors, so we have to be sure of anyone who is to quest with us. You handled yourself well. I pray your forgiveness.”

Fingol follows with, “For which we all pray. Please understand nothing was asked needlessly.” Fingol goes over to Newt and offers her some water and a cloth to wipe her face.

Indranil thinks to himself, We learned nothing to help guide or inform our quest.  All I did was scare and offend her. She is an amazing person and quite strong and resourceful for her age. Well at least she does not seem to be of evil intent and a danger to us. Perhaps I can make it up to her by tutoring her and giving her weapons training.

Accepting the cloth and straightening up, Newt replies, “Milord, I am sure you have just reasons for your questions, and it is not my place to inquire of them. Please, though, only overlook my tears. I will try to be stronger.”

Fingol stands, moves behind her and looks at Sir Ragnbjorn and then down at Adelina as if to say, ‘And what do we have to say to her?’

Picking up on his son’s implication Ragnbjorn says, “Fair Adelina, or Newt if you prefer. Please accept our apologies if we seemed to doubt you. You are welcome among us, and we will do all we can to help you in this trying time.”

Watching the scene play out, Gar finally speaks up, “Sir Ragnbjorn, can you please send for Aramek?”

Ragnbjorn looks to Sergeant Apone and says, “Yes, please bring Guardsman Aramek over.”

“Yes sir!” Sergeant Apone hurries off to get the young sorcerer.

Turning to Newt, Gar asks, “Milady Adelina, I noticed during your answers that you are not sure if you have a magical talisman upon you, or even if your family had such an item in your home. You don’t think so, but you are not sure. By chance, did either parent give you some trinket that they asked you to wear all the time to keep you safe with their love?”

“Yes, Father. They gave me this amulet just before they left and told me to keep it safe.” Newt shows them her shiny, but plain, bronze amulet.

Sergeant Apone finds Aramek on the boat listening to Rain playing her flute. “Aramek, you’re needed in the clearing.”

“I’ll be right over.” Then he yells up to Rain, “Hey, Rain, the sergeant says I’m needed over in the clearing. I’ll see you later.”

Rain stops playing and forces a smile “Okay, yah… see ya later”, then drops it immediately after he turns and leaves. What… the… fuck…? I’m still just a chopped liver grunt? she thinks to herself, Half share my ass! If this crap keeps up I would be better off joining with Fergus.

Rain does not like being left out of the leaders group, this and whatever the hell they were doing to Newt to make her cry. It has left Rain in a very sour mood. She tries to cool herself down by playing her flute again but then stops abruptly and says to nobody in particular, “Fuck it! This is bullshit,” and moves down to the hold to attempt to catch up on sleep.

Down in the hold, Rain hears Crabby and Fishbate talking. No one else is around at the moment. In his usual loudmouthed way Fishbate is saying, “Master Ailill seems none too pleased. He was sure that nothing would come of this attempt to negotiate.”

Crabbby responds, “We…we…well, it looks like the talks will go on a…a…a…at least. A…a…all Master Ailill’s b…b…brooding won’t change things.”

Fishbate shrugs and says, “Eh, what can we do? I just want to be left alone to fish in peace. Hopefully this Sir Fingol and Father Gar will be able to talk some sense to the snake-skins.”

When Aramek finally joins the others in the clearing, Ragnbjorn says, “Ah good. Guardsman Aramek, would you please cast your detect magic spell so that we can see if by chance Adelina has any items of magical power, particular that bronze amulet?”

Aramek looks surprised, “Adelina?”

Ragnbjorn says, “Yes, Adelina is Newt’s actual given name. Adelina, I believe you have already met Aramek, our squad’s sorcerer.”

Newt hands Aramek the amulet. Aramek intones, “Rivelighu!” and for several moments stands still with his hand raised in concentration towards the amulet that he now holds in his other hand. When he is done he announces, “Yes. The amulet does register the faint presence of magic.” He hands it back to her.

Xalakae, as Newt, holds the amulet up and looks at it with slight wonder. Indeed, all acting aside, s/he wonders to heirself if there is more to the amulet than they told hierm.

Indranil asks, ”Guardsman Aramek, can you discern what kind of magic the amulet is imbued with, or what it might be used for?”

Aramek shrugs and says, “Sorry, I can’t discern what school of magic it is right now.”

Indranil muses, “I wonder if this amulet had anything to do with the Amedi attack? Could they have been looking for it?”

Gar seems thoughtful for a moment and then says, “It only has a faint aura and so I am going to presume that it only gives some minor protection to the wearer. I doubt it is powerful enough to attract the Amedi. Thank you, Adelina, for sharing. May the gods keep you safe and bestow upon you a long life, my dear.”

Indranil says, “Father Gar, is it not unusual for a common fisherman to give his daughter a magic amulet for protection? I wonder who they really are?”

Gar hums, “Yes, indeed… yes, indeed…”

Aramek turns to Gar and says, “I guess there’s a lot I don’t know, being on the boat. You say Newt – I mean – Adelina’s parents are still alive? Are there others who may also be prisoners of the Amedi? Can anyone bring me up to date on what the situation is? And I think Rain would like to know as well.”

Gar raises his eyebrows with a twinkle in his eye, “My, you are a curious guardsman. But yes, we do believe that Adelina’s parents may be alive. Obad-Hai has spoken to me twice since we met Newt yesterday. Somehow, someway, it would seem that this wisp of a girl is going to lead us to some long forgotten city in the jungle, though I dare say she is clueless right now as to the path.” Gar smiles big and winks at Newt. “All will be revealed in good time, I have complete faith.”

Newt gasps loudly! ”My parents… are alive!” She smiles brightly with this renewed hope. ”Oh, Father, thank you! Only tell me how I can help find the place you seek! I shall do as required.” Newt bounces on her heels, clearly even more eager now to help in Sir Ragnbjorn’s work.

Gar smiles broadly. “So says my god, dear girl, but it difficult to say for how long. Time is of the essence. Just listen to your still inner voice and follow the breadcrumbs of your childhood memories. There we shall find what we seek.”

Turning to Ragnbjorn and Fingol, Indranil says, “Sir Ragnbjorn and Sir Fingol, we have made contact with the lizardfolk and established good communications with them. What is next? I am eager to begin the pursuit of the Amedi to find their cult’s headquarters and see if we can rescue Adelina’s parents!”

“As am I.” Fingol replies. ”If this matter is all that held us back than I think it is time to start out. We may not have solved the mysteries around Newt, but I think we have uncovered all that we will today.”

“I agree, Brother,” says Lorindel. ”Better to go on the offensive, rather than wait for Amedi to further move against us.”

Before Fingol’s father has a chance to respond, Gar says, “I have yet to convey greetings to Chief Rahk on behalf of the Great Druidess, and I do believe there are still some negotiations that need to happen between the various factions currently in the boat and those on the shore. For the sake of balance and harmony in the marshes, we must successfully complete the tasks at hand before setting off on the next. Sir Ragnbjorn, what is our agenda for today?”

Finally Ragnbjorn breaks in, saying, “Father Gar is exactly right. There are negotiations that must proceed. That is our main mission here. Chief Rahk is supposed to meet us here at noon. He wishes to speak to Father Gar, Fingol, and myself, but not yet the other delegates. I strongly suspect he has bigger concerns than fishing rights, and they probably have to do with the Amedi or Deathwalkers as Father Gar called them.

“Fortunately, there are enough of us here to look into these other matters as well. Here is what I believe we should do. Sergeant Apone, why don’t you get Newt here outfitted in Dale’s armor and see that she’s given a dagger and a spear to defend herself with. Then I’d like Sir Indranil and Sir Lorindel, as well as Guardsman Aramek and Guardswoman Rain to accompany Newt back to her home. They can perhaps do some drills and weapons training with her before they leave to assess her skills – or lack thereof. Sir Indranil, you’ll be in charge of this expedition. Take one of the enemy canoes back over to Cypress Hill and then walk from there. See if her parents are there but watch out for ambushes or any sign of these Deathwalkers. If her parents are there, then let them know they are welcome to come back to Westkeep with us. It may not be safe to stay out here any longer. Not that it was ever safe out here to begin with. If they are not there, then you, Guardsman Aramek, use your magic to see if you can find anything else of significance there, magical or otherwise. If you should be attacked, get out of there and rendezvous back here. If you leave in the early afternoon you should be able to get there by this evening if Newt’s home is a long walk away from Cypress Hill. So I’ll expect you back by tomorrow.

“Father Gar, Fingol, let’s wait here together for Chief Rahk to show up, and see what he has on his mind.”

“Is there anything else anyone would like to suggest? If not, let’s get to it.”

Gar replies, “Excellent suggestion, milord. May the gods watch over us all.”

Indranil looks at Ragnbjorn and says, “Yes sir.”

Indranil turns to Apone and says, “Sergeant Apone, after you have outfitted Adelina please get her a backpack and help her prepare for the journey, plan for two days there and back. When you have finished getting her ready bring her back here.”

Then he turns to Aramek and says, “Guardsman Aramek please go and tell Guardsman Rain that she is required for this scouting mission and the two of you prepare for a two day journey in the wild. Also ask the captain to prepare two days of field rations for us. Once you and Rain have packed and secured our provisions meet Sir Lorindel and I back here for weapons practice with Adelina.

“Everyone, be back within half an hour, I want a short practice round for Adelina’s benefit then we shove off shortly after noon.”

Indranil turns to Lorindel, “Brother, wait here a moment, I wish to ask Sir Ragnbjorn a question.” 

Aramek immediately heads back to Rain to tell her what’s happening.

Newt sets off with the others to get the pack Rain gave her and get ready for the day’s activities.

Once back at the boat, Aramek shakes Rain awake and says, “Rain, let’s go! We’ve got half an hour to assemble for a two day trip. We’re taking Newt to see whether we can locate her parents. Father Gar believes they may be alive and back at their home. Get ready. Quickly – and let’s be on our way!”

Rain had just dozed off and jumps up out of her hammock. Wiping the
tired out of her eyes she responds, “Mmmm… Yah… Yah OK. Hey, where is
their home at? And who is going?”

Newt and Aramek then fill Rain in, while Rain swiftly gets her armaments and pack ready.

After Sgt. Apone, Aramek and Newt have left, Indranil asks Sir Ragnbjorn, “Do we not want to try and pick up the trail of her parents if they are not there? If Adelina ‘gets a strong premonition’ of which way to go, what do you want us to do?”

Gar butts in, “Make good mental notes and come back to get us before you go anywhere else. You will need my healing powers more than once before you find them. Don’t you agree, milord?”

“Ahem,” from Ragnbjorn. “When it comes to the military side of things, I welcome your advice Father Gar, but I believe Sir Indranil was asking me and I will determine what needs to be done. Now, as it happens, we don’t want to lose any trails in the time it would take to come back here. I will see if Chief Rahk can perhaps send one of his adepts with you to provide divine healing if needed. Aramek also has Noch’s potions, and two of those are for curing wounds. You are free to use those for the mission. If you do need to follow a trail, either of Newt’s parents or of the enemy to see where they are, then send Lorindel back here to let me know. If you find a concentration of the enemy too big to deal with, you should disengage as quickly as possible and rendezvous back here. Use the standard shoot-and-scoot procedure. In this case you may want to take more rations with you. No more than seven day’s worth. I know I don’t need to tell you that it’s best to travel light.”

“Oh, one last thing Sir Indranil. Normally I would say that if Newt’s parents are there and are reunited with their daughter they would be free to stay or go elsewhere if they did not wish to come with us. In this case however, I would prefer to err on the side of caution. Take them into protective custody if you have to. They are not to be abused, but they cannot be left free to wander the marshes in these circumstances – especially not if Father Gar’s dreams point to them as somehow important factors in all of this.”

“Understood sir. It shall be done!” Indranil replies.

“Lorindel, let’s get our gear. Meet back here in 25 minutes.” With that he sprints off to the boat.

On the stern, Gar says, “Well boys and girls, it looks like we are going to party hardy when we get back to the keep! And sleep a little easier tonight as well”

Looking around the group, he sees that Dale looks completely healed, although Ragnbjorn’s arm still looks sore. Fingering his little Green Man, Gar closes his eyes and utters a melodic “Om.”

Ragnbjorn’s wound seems to be all but healed after that, only a dark bruise remains. Gar chants “Om” once more and even that disappears.

“Thanks Father Gar. I am ready to face the day,” says Ragnbjorn graciously.

“I really need to go meditate. Chat with you all later.” Gar then turns on his heels and heads up to the roof to settle in a comfortable spot looking toward the shore.

Seating himself on the shore side of the boat, Gar follows his breath in and out a few times to center himself before his begins his contemplations of the five elements. First he contemplates earth, noticing the circle of honor they erected yesterday on the shore. Water is next, feeling the boat gently rock beneath them all and the blood flowing from Noch’s wounds. The dawn air is still a little cool, although fire is beginning to light the sky. Finally, Gar contemplates the interconnectedness of all life, that which animates and touches all. Thinking of Newt he reflects on how it is truly amazing that such a young lady could be the key to everything: the lizardfolk, the Amedi and their death god Nerull, the city hidden in the jungle. Gar can feel a tug in his heart and mind, pulling him forward, ever onward, one clue at a time. As Gar finishes his meditation, his head swims as he feels a rush of healing energies unlike anything he’s experienced before.

Ragnbjorn finds Rain and Aramek and says, “It occurred to me that Aramek also contributed to Noch’s defeat. Also, those potions should be brought along with us. Let me see them.”

After Rain produces them Ragnbjorn says, “Well, it’s clear to me that these two are healing potions,” he says pointing to the two with “Cure” and “Cure+” on the seals. He opens the stopper on the one with “Dark” written on it and takes in a whiff of it. “Just what I thought, this is a darkvision potion. I have used them before.” He looks at the last one that says, “Pass” and also opens it and sniffs it. I am going to guess that this is a potion for passing without a trace. We rangers have some experience with that kind of magic. I think it might be best to let Aramek keep these on his person in case we need them. He is the alchemist here after all. Here you go. Oh, and take the Banelar Essence as well.”

At the Banelar Essence, Aramek raises his right eyebrow then says, “Thank you, my lord. I shall keep them safe but available. That Banelar should be very effective should we need to knock anyone out.”

Ragnbjorn turns to Rain, “Now Rain, you have the safekeeping of Noch’s tools and his money. I’d like you to keep those on your person at all times as well. In fact, let me see one of those platinum pieces.”

Ragnbjorn takes one and after scrutinizing it says, “Yes, that’s what I thought. You see? This is a platinum highlord. I doubt anyone on this boat has ever seen a platinum piece before. However, these highlords were coined by the Sea Princes before their fall. This means that Noch was most likely paid off for his mission to kill me in Westkeep and not back in Keoland. I will keep this one for a while but will return it later. I want to discuss this with the others. Keep this quiet you two. Rain, keep those with you and show them to no one unless I say it’s okay.”

Rain replies, “Yes my Lord, I will keep them safe.” She pauses then smiles slightly and says, “Thanks,” but finishes the thought in her own head, Thanks for trusting me, and showing to the others that you trust me.

She turns to reorder it all. The belt pouch of coins she hides inside of her shirt and armor. Noch’s tools are placed inside of her own pack. She then puts her old shortsword, bedroll and standard equipment in Noch’s pack and goes to find Newt.

Ragnbjorn next finds Sergeant Apone and says, “I am going ashore. I wish to commune with Ehlonna now that the sun is up. Please take Noch’s body ashore and have your troops prepare a pyre, but do not burn it until I tell you.”

Shamed by all this devotion, Fingol remembers that he should bless the day’s road.  

”May I join you ashore, father, to observe my own devotions?”  Fingol asks.

“That would be very nice son,” Ragnbjorn responds warmly.

Ragnbjorn and Fingol then climb down from the boat and wade over to the riverbank to pray and contemplate each in their own way – but together.

Seeing that Ragnbjorn and Fingol are on the riverbank praying, Indranil says, “Let’s go join Ragnbjorn and Fingol with morning meditations, I can use it.”

After the three rangers are done with their meditations, Fingol turns to his father and says, “I’m really glad we had this chance to see one another, I…  well, I’m just really glad.”

“So am I, son. So am I,” Ragnbjorn replies.

With the danger seemingly past, Newt goes out on deck again. This time she doesn’t bother anyone, but merely dangles her feet over the edge. Xalakae gazes at the water, considering how fast things moved on this boat. S/he looks around from time to time, half-heartedly picking up stray surface thoughts.

Hiers own thoughts were troubled and ranged all over the spectrum of topics. Where are my parents? How will I find them? How long can I stay with these people if I don’t find my parents? It was good of them to try to keep me safe, but also frustrating! I will just have to wait to prove myself. Tiring of such heavy thoughts, Xalakae hopes nobody will ask her too many questions and loses herself in the interaction of the light with the water.

Fingol takes all the arrows out of the quiver to inspect and count them but finds nothing unusual about them. After that, he tries to salvage what he can of the arrows pulled from Noch and then finds more spare ammunition in the hold. He tries to fill the quiver to capacity, but cannot find the limit of its capacity. Any arrows over 20 seem to vanish into an extra space, but are retrievable. As he suspected, it is a Quiver of Holding, a magical quiver that can hold hundreds of arrows.

Fingol walks over to Lorindel, “This quiver seems to hold more arrows than typical. The magic of the thing seems to make them disappear, but they can be taken out again when needed. You seem to be the best archer of us. I think perhaps you should carry this. We all rely on your skill, and would be the worse off if you ran out of arrows. Of course if you fear it cursed, I’ll continue to carry it until we know better.”

“I will make good use of this,” accepts Lorindel.

Rain sits next to Newt, puts the pack she had prepared and the sword down and dangles her legs as well. “Good morning Newt, how did you sleep?”

Still looking over the side Newt replies, “Well enough, while it lasted. Did you get enough rest?” Newt turns, briefly, and eyes the pack and sword before turning back to the river.

Rain replies, also looking into the water. “Yah, I slept ok… I’ll sleep better tonight I’m sure.”

“What will Lord Ragnbjorn do now? He hasn’t made his treaty so quickly, has he? And where will the boat go when he’s done?”

Rain ignores the pack for now and continues, “I’m not sure what he will
do. He is still talking things over with the lizardfolk I assume.”

“What were you looking for? When you searched his body, that is. He couldn’t have been cold yet. Doesn’t that seem, well… weird, taking his things like that?”

While sitting with Guardsman Rain, Xalakae searches the waters below for the minds of fish or other simple creatures. Maybe I can catch something tasty for breakfast.

Rain replies to Newt’s question, “Information… I was looking for information. Initially I just wanted to get his weapons away in case he got back up. Noch seemed like a good enough guy. I liked him at least. Too bad he wasn’t who he appeared to be.”

Rain notices Newt looking into the waters but not seeming to be able to find what she seeks. Rain asks, “What are you looking for?”

“Everyone has been so nice to me, and they make sure to keep me safe. But that means I have to be in the hold all the time. I don’t like being indoors so much, so I thought if I did some fishing they’d let me stay on deck. I was wondering if there is something to fish with. I thought of the spears below, but they’re not really made for fishing, ya know?”

Rain smiles at Newt’s innocence. “Yah, I know.”

“Can you excuse me for a second?” Newt steps away from Rain for a few minutes. She goes down into the hold and comes back up holding something. She returns to Rain after a quick circuit around the deckhouse, carrying a fishing pole and some related gear.

Sitting down with Rain again, Newt starts baiting the hook with a practiced hand. ”There” she says, clearly in better spirits as she casts her line. “Now I’ve got a good reason to be up here. Do you fish, milady?”

Rain responds to Newt’s question on fishing, “I did… a long time ago.” She pauses, visiting old dusty memories, then continues, “You don’t need to call me by any titles. Just Rain is fine.”

Rain offers the pack and sword she brought and says, “So this pack and sword are for you. In it you will find a bedroll and standard equipment. If you have never used one before, you may want to practice a bit with the sword. I’ll show ya if you want.”

“Thanks!” shrieked Newt, gleefully. She drops her fishing pole, opens the bag and rifles through its contents. When finished, she leaps at Rain and gives her a big, grateful hug. ”Thank you so much! You won’t get in trouble for teaching me, will you?”

Rain is caught by surprise at Newt’s reaction but then warmly hugs back. Rain is reminded of a similar scene just the other day back in Westkeep and smiles. ”No, I don’t think anybody will mind me teaching you to defend yourself. Just be careful with this, it is a deadly weapon. We can get started a little later today after breakfast.”

Fingol walks over to Rain and Newt at a leisurely pace. He stops and says, “I see the newest member of our gang is sharing in some of the spoils. Are you going to teach her to use that sword?”

Rain replies cheerfully, “Yah, after breakfast. Wanna help?”

Fingol replies with pleasant surprise, “Oh, I thought you were going to keep our friend’s company all to yourself! I’d be happy to help if I can. Although, you have the advantage to me in sword work, as I recall.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!” Newt says to Fingol. Turning to Rain, “Oh, what a fine day! I only hope it stays slow enough that we’re not interrupted. Everything has been happening so fast!”

 Notwithstanding the attempt on Sir Ragnbjorn’s life, Newt is very pleased with the turns the day had taken. With such happy thoughts, Xalakae turns hiers attention back to fishing, hoping to catch a particularly good fish for breakfast.

From time to time s/he looks around to see what the others were doing, but is happy to keep up a general conversation with Rain. Rain seems friendly enough, but avoids answering questions about her past. That made Xalakae all the more curious and s/he debated internally whether or not to try scanning Rain more deeply. In the end, s/he decided that if s/he was ever to be friends with Rain s/he shouldn’t pry. Xalakae’s parents would probably have counseled otherwise, but they weren’t here, and not knowing would make it less likely for Xalakae to let slip anything that would give hierm away.

Rekindling the conversation, Newt recalls to Rain, “We used to look for will-o-wisps in the marsh. Me and the other kids, that is. Sometimes we’d find coins someone must have lost to them. Once, Anderil got zapped by one! It chased him half the way home!

Rain chuckles at her story then says to both Newt and Fingol, “Tell you what, after dinner I’ll go make us some practice swords. Then the three of us can go through some basic moves, sound good?”

“It sounds like a good plan,” Fingol says as he starts to walk to the deckhouse, “except for the will-o-wisps. I’d like to stay away from those if we can. Well, I’m going to study the charts a while. Let me know when you are ready to start.”

Without turning, Fingol utters a little rhyme, “Through misdeed or mischance, caring words may fail to dance.” 

As Fingol walks away, Newt comments quietly to Rain, “Sir Fingol seems nice, now that things have calmed a bit.”  Securing her fishing pole, she turns to the sword. Drawing it, she holds it in the early light and hefts it, testing its weight. She is very careful with it.

When Gar finishes his morning meditation, Rain approaches and whispers to him, “Hey, just to let you know, Ragnbjorn has asked me to keep Noch’s coins on me at all times. I wanted somebody else to know.”

“Oh good, I was worried about them down there,” whispered Gar.

Then changing the subject she says, “So I guess we were right about Noch after all. Too bad, he seemed like a good enough guy.”

“Yeah, it seems like the two of us were the most perceptive in our group as well,” Gar adds.

Rain continues to whisper, but gets a grin on her face as she says, “I agree… see if they would just let us judge and convict those who we deem suspect this journey would be much safer. So let’s talk about Fin…” she ends with an even wider mocking evil grin.

Gar chuckles, “Sure, what do you have in mind? And that’s Sir Fin to you, milady.”

Rain sobers a bit at Gar’s comment and says, “Yah, I should be a bit more careful about that. I just hate that titles should define and divide us. Our deeds should be enough to define due respect.”

Gar nods in agreement. “I too have gotten in trouble more than once in that regard, milady, even by the Lady Sedara. It seems like the titles milord and milady are the most egalitarian in this society. It shows respect for each person regardless of caste or title. You might try it.” Gar smiles broadly.

Rain replies “Thanks Gar. I may give that a try… maybe.”

Gar later approaches Ragnbjorn, who is still exercising on the riverbank, bows slightly and says, “I had another dream last night that I need to share with you, milord.”

Ragnbjorn nods and says, “Well then by all means tell me about it Father Gar. You’re dreams and visions seem to be keeping us on track so far.”

Gar then recounts his dream in detail to Ragnbjorn who responds, “Deathwalkers huh? So that is what they are called. The Amedi who fled Westkeep must have found this city and have revived the cult of Thanatos. If this dream is true we must find this city, and it sounds like this Adelina or Newt is the one who might be able to take us there. So she was, or perhaps I should say, is to be a member of the Guard? It makes sense. We do have a spare suit of leather armor now, and weapons enough on the boat. We can give her a spear and dagger if nothing else. But how can we trust her? I know she seems to be nothing but a slip of a girl, but then Noch seemed to be a loyal soldier who had in fact defended the Prince with his life only a few nights ago.”

“Oh, milord, I have the Zone of Truth spell available. I had hoped it would be of help in the negotiations. So, if you think at some point it would be helpful, just ask,” smiles Gar.

“Ah, indeed. Let us ask this Newt if she will submit to answering some questions within the Zone of Truth. If she is what she appears to be, an innocent girl who lost her parents in a raid, then all is well. We can also ask her if she knows of this city. Then we can induct her, at least temporarily into the Guard and Sgt. Apone and his troops can train her. That will keep her out of trouble and enable her to defend herself if we need to take her with us so she can lead us to this city. However, if she has something to hide and balks at this, then we will have to reconsider. How does that sound to you Father Gar? We can question her after dinner.”