Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Castle Kett has far more questions than she does answers, and Arimart's line of questioning isn't where her mind was going. Maybe it was because he didn't want to directly (or indirectly) criticise Thronehold's security measures, if they could even be called that. "Just so I have the sequence of events correct," she doesn't comment on Arimart's 'elf friends' remark, moving on immediately. There's a dozen ways the wound could have been caused that she could name, and more that she couldn't. While it was a hint, it wouldn't lead anywhere conclusive without supplementary information. "Yesterday two of these fellows entered Thronehold dressed as Wardens. They were not stopped or interfered with in any way until they arrived at the last room, at which point a fight broke out and they killed a dozen or so people. They then proceeded here, and were killed by someone with an apparent flaming - or otherwise heated - weapon. Maugrim was then spirited away, and now you have no idea where he is or who took him." Her questions ignore the body almost entirely. Drake's deathspeaking could handle that, no doubt. "Can anyone wearing Warden armour wander the castle freely? Any checkpoints, like, say...on the door with the locks and the password we came through? Who had access to this area, other than yourself? What escape route was used? How long between the deaths and the bodies being discovered and reported, and what time was that? I'm guessing that is what triggered the lockdown last night, correct?"

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

Lann's frown deepens as he considers the none-too-subtle implications of Kett's line of questioning. "Look," he says, "security's not my job. I'm a judge, not an officer. Obviously the castle has safeguards - identification codes, divination scans, and other magical wards that you've seen - beyond just the uniform of a Throne Warden. And like I already said, I don't have all of the facts yet. There's another group that's getting that information, so why not wait and ask them?"

Gryphon and Drake, meanwhile, takes a closer look at the body with Spritz at his side, poking and prodding at the wound as well as the creature itself and looking for blood samples. In his investigation, he doesn't seem to find any samples beyond the nine dead here. However, inspecting the wound and the dead entity does reveal a few things of note. The first is that the non-fatal cuts on its body definitely look recent, yet the flesh was either incredibly resilient or grew itself back together. Both dwarf and wizard match these wound patterns to the swords and other weapons of the Deneith Wardens fairly easily. The second item of note is that up close, there are definite scars and suture marks all over the mystery creature's corpse. Nearly invisible to the naked eye, they run inside the folds of muscle tissue and joints. They're far too neat and regular to be natural.

Whatever this thing is, it wasn't born. It was made.

Before any more inquiries can be launched, there are footsteps on the other side of the door. Muffled voices can be heard, followed by the bolts being released. Through the passage out into the antechamber, three silhouettes approach. The two in front wear full armor, though in diametrically opposed colours. One has the emerald and silver of House Deneith with a matching platinum pommelled blade at his belt, while the other sports the onyx and crimson Karrnathi heraldry. Magistrate Syan Jarus and Colonel Therin d'Deneith both radiate authority, staring all of you down without pause.

"Magistrate Lann," begins Jarus, giving Arimart in particular a long and searching look, "I thought we agreed that I had this under control. As this pertains directly to an earlier inquiry, Karrnath has jurisdiction over this investigation. Why did you bring all of them in, when the Tribunal already voted to authorize me to use our new wolfhound?"

As Therin and Jarus move further into the room, they make way for the final newcomer. Though he's lithe he isn't particularly tall, with a gangly frame that is belied by a graceful yet familiar gait. His squat, flat nose, striking round yellow eyes, and tufts of visible fur mark him out as a shifter, and over his cloak and leathers you see the distinct outline of a longbow wrapped in canvas. He carries a blade at his belt and a pack over his shoulder. Though he barely meets your gaze, it's impossible not to recognize him.

Raz.

[GameOfChampions]

Counting Shadows

Kleris raises an eyebrow as the dwarf points out the dirty child, as he looks closer he notices that it is in fact Renn. That dirty little halfling informant that Arimart had connections too. He hadn't seen the little halfling since the group had gone to her for information and had honestly put her out of his mind. As he watches her move though, he realizes she could be what they needed. 'That little halfling lives on these streets. She clearly knows her way around the area here.'

He leans over to Drake, pretending to be examining the drink that the dwarf is having. "That little halfling there. That's Renn, professional informant and street person. She has her dirty little fingers in a lot of pies around town. We might be noticed approaching her now but we could try and find her when she comes back out. Or I know a place she stops by every week. We could meet her there and question her about what she saw here."

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Castle

Drake was silent for a long moment as he took in the grisly tableaux laid out before them. The sight was more than enough to turn one’s stomach, but adding the smell ... that made it almost unbearable. However, it was the taste he would never forget, a subtle, but undeniable trace of metal and decay in the back of his throat that would likely haunt him for the rest of his days. He turned away for a moment, composing himself for a few moments as he pushed his small breakfast back to where it belonged. Get a grip, boyo ... can’t have elven blood smiling through this while you part ways with your last meal. Steady!

As he slowly exhaled, Drake reached into his satchel and pulled forth a small book and pen. When he turned back, his face was an set - eyes bright with purpose, but jaws clenched shut. He paused for a moment to take some initial notes, capturing the scene as it stood right now, adding in the comments from the Magistrate. After that, he wrote down a few notes on what stood out to him.

Violence ... brutal, absolute. But ... inefficient. This is carnage with a purpose. Rage? Pleasure? Or sowing fear? The killer (s?) are leaving a message ... what is it?

After he finished, Drake followed the other to the center of the room, where the body of the creature responsible laid. He approached it with the same detached yet purposeful mien as before, focusing on the details vice the ever-looming presence of death. He listened absently as he onelft down to study the body, peering at the wounds, studying the burn marks, appraising the sword. As he checked over the creature, two things became abundantly clear. One was something other than the soldiers stopped this creature. Second ...

”It is a construct. Well made, and almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but this creature was made ... not born.”

He took a few extra notes, capturing the description of the body; the size, shape and number of wounds; the nature of the ichor, and the quality of the blade. He leaned back on his haunches for a moment, his gaze turning back to the bodies of the fallen guards, looking for damage patterns across all the fallen. If only two of these things caused this much havoc, there were other concerns for the group ... and the city.

Before he could raise any, the newcomers arrived and a tension fell over the room as Magistrate faced Magistrate. He rose slowly, grunting as he did, to lean heavily on his cane as he waited for the politics to proceed and the measuring of members to complete.
Counting Shadows

Drake nodded, chuckling aloud at some whispered joke by Kleris, remarking back quietly, ”I am always happy to make new friends. My concern is that our dearly departed musician indicated a drop this evening. And presuming she didn’t arrive unfashionably early, or was unavoidably detained permanently somewhere else, I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to reconnect. ”

---

OOC - Drake would cast enhance ability, but if we are all helping each other all ready, it may be a waste.

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 40/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x4): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, blindness/ deafness, locate object
3rd (x3): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[CozJa]

The staunch air of death becomes even more stale when Magistrate Jarus enters, coldy approaching the group and Lann. Beside her Arimart sees standing the hated colonel Therin, the Deneith commander of dubious loyalties and...

Raz?

"Raz! That's the reason of his disappearance! Magistrate Jarus might have made him an offer he couldn't refuse... or maybe he was in it from the beginning... or... Well, no reason to obsess about it right now. MAybe we can earn something from this situation."

In a moment, the Khoravar moves to join magistrate Lann in 'welcoming' the newcomers. Time to defuse the tension, and bring some peace in this horrible ambient. After all, none of the present is more directly threatening than a Fire Elemental smacking you in the face.

"Magistrate, Colonel, good to see you. Master Raz..." Arimart quietly nods to salute his former companion. "I'm glad that you chose such a capable element to help you, Magistrate Jarus! Firstly because it's a demonstration that you were completely convinced of the righteousness of our behavior, and then because master Raz will prove to be an invaluable asset for the Tribunal. As for jursidction, I'm pretty sure we need to work together right now, the more we can discover, the faster we will be able to act." As he says this, he smiles at the magistrate and bows slightly, then the paladin walks toward Therin, with a serious expression on his face.

"We may disagree on many things, colonel, but that..." he points to the corpses of the Deneith wardens "... is something that mustn't go unpunished! You have my help."

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

"I... appreciate the sympathies," replies Therin stiffly, bending to the expected protocol of the moment. By the clenching of his jaw, the dragonmarked officer desperately wants to find something to object to here, yet the offered hand of help in justice for his people is simply an offer he cannot refuse. "And I would accept all the aid you have in tracking down whatever did this. Nameless was under House Deneith's care, and like it or not he is a monster of our making; every breath he takes in the wilderness is another stain on the chimeric banner."

Jarus pauses only to follow his lead and nod reluctantly, and whatever ugliness might have ensued seems like a passing fancy. "We have the reports from the desk sergeants and everyone working last night," she says at last. "These two had the entry phrases for the outer gate, inner keep, and here on the cell block level. Their thoughts were also scanned by the wands on duty following the standard procedure for a shift change. The faces they wore weren't strangers either; two members of one of our night squads have gone missing. Sovereigns, they passed authentication, were asked questions from the background of the missing Wardens."

She takes off her helmet, holding it at her waist while her free hand runs through her wavy dark hair. "We believe these creatures to be responsible for the Wolf's Rest attack too. That's twice they've bypassed extensive security countermeasures."

Yet something akin to a shadow crosses over Raz's face when Arimart mentions how 'glad' he is to be in these new circumstances. The shifter says nothing at all as he files into the hallway, kneeling down near the dead intruder opposite where Drake was and getting his own read on the situation. He returns to something like a standing position after a few moments in thought.

"I've never smelled anything like these before," Raz says simply, not looking up at any of you. "They're all wrong, like the meat's gone off or mixed in with something else." As he cranes his neck to get a better look, you see for the first time the edges of something along the fur at the base of his neck. There's a lightness, a raised pattern on the flesh, yet up close it looks like the edges of some sort of symbol... one that has been branded into him.


Counting Shadows

As the two of you watch from the side-lines, there is a sudden sound of a crash from right down the lane. Turning subtly to look, you both see a collapsed wagon in the middle of the road, its axles worn right through and on a dangerous slant. Several barrels of what look and smell like fermented beer are even now spilling all over the cobblestones, causing a huge commotion. Shouting ensues, as the wagon driver is going off on another passer-by who they blame vociferously for the incident. Most everyone - including the spotters you've already noted as such - are in the midst of getting caught up, but you have sharper eyes and are wise to the game. While everyone else has their eyes firmly fixed on the devolving situation in their midst, the urchin spymaster has slipped into the dark and out of view entirely.

The street disturbance increases in intensity as the shouting seems about to devolve into fisticuffs, but as threats to call the harbour guard are raised both belligerents eventually back down. One minute passes. Two. Three. Renn has not yet reappeared.

[CozJa]

If Arimart notices the brand on Raz, he doesn't show it. "No need to delve on situations that can't be solved right now, with all that is at stake", thinks the paladin; then, he concentrates on the new informations.

"That's worrying. Whoever they may be, our enemies seem to always be a step ahead of us. Wolf's rest, and now Thronehold. Those creatures... they must be the work of some expert manipulator of flesh... Madame Kett, I think that you are the most expert on security measures here, do you know of some ways to fool mind scanning?"

While he calls for his companion's help, Arimart starts to think. "Izar told me that somebody may have played Jarus and Lann... what if it's the same person behind those assaults? What if Maugrim is just the curtain we all look at, while the show is running behind him?"

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Castle "I'm not dishing my trade secrets for free but yes, there's a few ways. Some magical, some not, and some that just mean that the people who supposedly thought-read them were in on it all along. I mean, obviously, right? You guys have a conspiracy on your hands at this point, presumably lead by a Magistrate or someone with similar levels of access and knowledge." With the entrance of Jarus and Raz her taste for toeing around subjects is dropping precipitously. Everyone was thinking it, just say it out loud, get it over with. "I mean it could even be one of you two," she just her chin at Lann and Jarus, then shrugs. "Or both. Or neither. Speaking of questionable things," she segues effortlessly, with her tone not changing even a tad. It retains the same detached curiosity, "Raz, what's this brand on your neck? I don't think you had it before."

[GameOfChampions]

Counting Shadows

Kleris watches with a professionals eye, he would bet platinum to silver that the accident had been staged and he couldn't spot any problems. That took skill to set up and good solid craftsmanship. He leans over to Drake "Perfect, anyone causing a commotion like that to distract the spotters is not expected and hopefully not to attached to anyone in there. So we can question her on the way out. Lets keep sharp, hopefully it won't be long."

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

The silence that follows Kett's recent line of conjecture says more than any reply either Magistrate could have given. Nobody speaks for near thirty seconds, but both Lann and Jarus give the monk hard looks before giving each other even more intense stares that carry barely veiled disdain. Colonel Therin's grip on his sword tightens, but it would seem the man does not care to intervene at this time. Raz's reaction is once again the most curious, as he looks right down at the floor and away from everyone.

"... lost control." You barely register the word the hunter has said. When he raises his gaze to speak up, there is something broken in them. "I lost control in the interrogation. I was... provoked and tried to attack a Magistrate, so they locked me up. This mark and my service to the Tribunal are the terms of my release."

"Until then, he's under my operational command," cuts in Jarus, not eye contact with her Brelish counterpart. "The Tribunal agreed on this; as Karrnath has been given the go-ahead to lead the investigation, Raz is my asset until this is finished."

"And what are you going to do when you find this mastermind, Captain? Kick down the door and bring them in at blade-point?" Lann lets out a little snicker. "Your army days are behind you; it's why we hire freelancers in the first place. You're kidding yourself if you think you'll be leading this dance in the field. The best solution here is to put our teams together. That way, even if anyone on the Tribunal turns out to be compromised there's a neutral party with a vested interest in seeing this thing solved equitably."

The Karrnathi woman thinks on that for a breath, before acceding with a grunt and a curt nod.

"Well then," Berem Lann addresses you all, "how about it? Will you rip up this snake's nest for us? Like I said before, I'm more than happy to make it worth your while."


Counting Shadows

Your new quarry does not emerge from the side of the building, as you might have expected. Instead - perhaps five minutes after Renn left your line of sight - you take note of the leftmost of the four main doors at the House's front colonnades as creaks ever so slightly open. Though you wait to get a view of the halfling leaving the building to follow and perhaps question her, you see no such figure join the crowd. In fact, you don't spot anyone at all. Before your eyes, the door closes once again as of its own accord, leaving the two of you much where you were before the urchin's arrival.

At least, until a chair at your table scrapes back and you both hear someone settling into it. You smell Renn before you see her; the persistent perfume of filth and offal wades over the premises as she dismisses the invisibility spell. "Well now," she says picking at a scab on her right ear, "wasn't expecting to have to sneak past anyone else. How much to keep quiet 'bout seeing me go in there, eh?"

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Castle Were they stupid and really hadn't considered it? Or were they just so attached to the dance of politics that it offended them to hear the thoughts spoke aloud? She's not sure, but it warms her belly to see them squirm a little. Her head tilts ever so slightly as her eyes match Colonel Theirin's. "Draw it if you want, see what happens. Otherwise stop posturing." Provoking people was apparently totally fine under the law, so there didn't seem to be a reason for her to stop. She's disappointed, but not particularly surprised, by Raz's confession. Provoking hostility and then slavery-by-another-name seemed entirely normal for a government. Still, he got himself into the mess, he could get himself out of it. While his archery skills might be useful, if he was emotionally unstable enough to get himself 'indentured' then she didn't need or want him right now. "You'll have to excuse us for a minute while we confer. Once we come back I'm sure the esteemed investigation leader can provide us with their theories on just whom could be responsible for it and why it's definitely not them." She beckons the group - save Raz, of course - over to a corner away from the body, and lowers her voice, even going so far as to put a hand in front of her mouth to avoid any lip reading. "So as much as I love idly looking at corpses for an afternoon I do have to ask is this is really the best use of our time. You know, impending house war that could tear the continent apart and all that. Raz is qualified, we know that much. I'm not seeing the value in our attending to this instead of...you know, other things. Reward or not." She understands, of course, that not everyone was quite as mercenary about the situation. Arimart presumably cared a great deal about it, Gryphon would see it as a way to curry favour and she has zero clue if Drake had any real investment beyond academics, though she doubts it, but she did need to bring their minds back to what she views as the most important thing: the Codex.

[(Un)Inspired]

Looking up from his forensic work, It takes a moment for Gryphon to process everything that's happening. Almost naked antagonism between two human magistrates, Colonel Therin pretending like he'd actually try to fight rather than hide, and the return of Raz. With a Geas Brand, so that's why he never took me up on my offer to go into business together. Damn shame, if he could have only kept himself in check we could be playing these humans from both side, the leverage would have been beautiful. At least these humanoids appreciate his skill, and if they're willing to using something like a Geas Brand then they're less savage then I had thought.

Realizing he's been lost in his own thoughts, Gryphon resuming paying attention to the conversation just in time to hear Kett Taunt Colonel Therin. Now Madam Kett, don't be rude to the poor Colonel, you know very well that that he's at his most dashing when perched high up on a wall above a battle. I'm sure seeing all this violence up close is quite unnerving for him. He closes his eyes tenderly and gives the Deneith Colonel several sympathetic nods of his head. Turning to Lann, Provided we aren't stepping on any diplomatic toes I'd be pleased to aid the investigation in whatever manner I can; I just ask that afterwards I'm able to have an opportunity to speak with each of you esteemed magistrates in private. Until then, Mister Raz, have you developed any leads regarding Maugrim's captors?

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

A quick discussion - which, though not entirely conclusive, is good enough for the purposes of an immediate consense - ensues, followed by turning to Lann to offer aid in the investigation. The Magistrate from Breland claps in celebration and looks to Jarus, who gives one more sigh and ushers Raz forward with a wave of the hand.

"Well I want it on record that I have my reservations, but this might be the best course of action. Just don't forget our bargain, skin-changer."

The shifter nods but doesn't turn back towards the Karrnathi, the Brelish, or the dragonmarked colonel, none of whom try to follow him. Though he’s risen from where he was kneeling near the corpse the ranger remains somewhat slouched in the shoulders as he approaches your little circle on the edge of the room.

"I have some leads", he growls, "but I want to speak to Arimart alone first. If you're in, there are some things you should know before going any further. These are deep waters. I should warn you also that this might take a little while - but it's not all stops and starts." He turns to Kett. "Whatever else is on your plate, I'm sure it's important to you. Maybe we can help one another."

[GameOfChampions]

Counting Shadows

Kleris represses the immediate gag that follows Rens arrival. The noon sun and heat really wasn't helping that smell was it. While her smell was awful her tradecraft wasn't. That had been a smooth exit and even thiugh they had been planning on talking to her once she exited the invisibility would have made that impossible, as planned no doubt.

He smiles at the dirty halfling "Hello again, I was a little surprised myself watching your infiltration. Not sure what we were expecting but I sister have you high on the list."

He shrugs and clocks an eyebrow "Well as much as I love a good bribe I think we would enjoy a more... intangible bribe. Can we ask what your business was in there? Did it have something to do with a big artifact heist we heard went down a night ago? Now to flip the bribe, we would pay for such information and more importantly the security measures and layout of the building as well. In case we wish to take our own... visit."

[CozJa]

Castling

As Kett calls the group together to discuss their course of actions, Arimart smiles swiftly: She's finally acting as the member of a group of people acting together.

"I understand your concerns, Kett" He answers, with the intent of rewarding with help her acty of trust "This is a Tribunal's problem, and I don't wish to force any of you to follow the case. And I assure you that you still have my attention and my help on retrieving the... things we'd like to have back. But since you'r going to spend some time here anyway, I believe you could just roll with the wind and accept Magister Lann's offer. I think we are enough to follow those leads, and more money in your purse shouldn't give you no ill."

(...)

As Gryphon makes his less then gentle comment on colonel Therin, Arimart expects an answer, but none other than magister Jarus speaks, before the group is left to their own devices. Maybe what happened took a toll on the confidence of the Deneith colonel. Something worth knowing, that could become useful in the future.

The Paladin looks at his former companion as he asks to speak with him alone. "We can leave the room for a while, if you want to speak with me in privacy."

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

"No. The last time we saw each other, you asked for words. Let's have a drink later, where I can talk more about my leads." Raz holds Arimart's eyeline for a moment longer before breaking off, standing in a well of shadow on the stone. He looks down at the surrounding carnage with the studied rhythm of a professional one last time.

"Well then," says Berem Lann. "I'll put each of you down for a thousand galifars, or favors granted. Sir Kellson, I believe a formal audience would be in the cards for certain should be in the cards should you help in the matter. Madam Kett, if you'd like to collect your money now I can have it transported to you on your way out of the castle. The rest of you, please let us know what denomination of currency you'd prefer. I think I can speak for both myself and Magistrate Jarus here that we don't want our new team to feel underappreciated for their help in this singular matter. Though he is absent, I assume I can mark down Kleris Ostren as well?

What we want is Nameless found - alive or otherwise - but more importantly, the identity and capture of whoever has been behind all of this. We can speak to the Deneith guards, make sure they know that you're on the case. You'll get leeway with the various zone forces as well if we have our way."


Counting Shadows

Renn's rheumy gaze does not change as she stares at the two of you dead on. "An artifact heist, eh?" For a moment she breathes as though to say something in particular but then thinks better of it.

"Might be I know something useful, might be I don't. But if you know me at all, you'd know that I don't take bribes; I do trades. So give me something juicy, and maybe you'll get something back... something worth your while, something even about an orrery perhaps?

Oh and before you go and cast some spell on me, you should know I'm warded against that sort of thing. Besides, it's not good business."

[CozJa]

"As you wish master Raz. We will exchange words, and drinks, like those who were raised in war sometimes got to do in peace."

The Paladin quietly bows his head to his shifter former companion, then turns to Berem.

"If I'm not too forward, I'd like to take look our collection of seized items here at Thronehold, maybe something that can help me in my research will come up. But, before we say our farewells, I need to ask both of you a question magistrates and, given the importance, I ask you to set aside youtr political needs for a moment and try to answer me as forward as possible.

Who gave you the informations on Maugrim's location?"

[(Un)Inspired]

Gryphon gives Lann a slight nod to show that he accepts the human’s offer, Best not to push our luck with the magistrates at just this moment, just solve the mystery of the missing Maugrim and prepare for the next pitch meeting.

When Arimart asks his question of the tribunal members, the young wizard remains silent but eagerly awaits their answer.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Castle Arimart's words don't exactly resound with her. She had lots of things she could be doing. A bevy of potential leads, even. While there was no rushing Layla, the elusive 'V' was another matter entirely. She still had to arrange Arano's additional guard. Perhaps the mass murder of a bunch of craftsmen and a Dark Lantern agent wasn't as important to him as she'd thought. Kett's nostril's flare quietly as distrust begins to creep back into her thoughts. It was never far from them, of course. If he wanted to spend his time chasing a dementia-ridden war criminal then so be it, but she really doesn't see herself being able to dedicate time to both, so unless Maugrim has been kidnapped by V - possibly, but an eventuality she discounts as very unlikely - it seemed to her like her time would be better spent elsewhere. She would still take the gold though. If they were happy to offer it in advance then it was no skin off her nose. "Sure, I'll take it to go when we leave."

[GameOfChampions]

Counting Shadows

Kleris almost snickers as he hears the addition of no spells, he had been running out the Suggestions pretty heavily for the last week but he hadn't expected the knowledge of that to spread so quickly. Well spells were just crutches that limited the natural ability anyway. 'Friends are made over hours but enemies in seconds, don't go too heavy handed or you'll ruin the relationship here.' Just be... well not quite yourself but a slightly nicer friendlier version of that.'

Kleris fails to hide a smile this time, the damn voices in his head were even teasing him now. He turns back to Renn and keeps the smile going "Spells are for enemies or particularly recalcitrant contacts but never friends. I think we could be good friends don't you? As far as a trade I suppose I can offer a little tidbit of information in return, as well as the promise I would never tell our friends over there that someone had slipped past their defenses."

The changeling leans in close "Last night during the rather large birthday party thrown by Ambassador ir'Sencriss a kidnapping attempt almost succeeded that had been implemented by House Phiarlan agents during the chaos."

He then leans back and shrugs "Seems pretty suspicious for Phiarlan to get involved in the kidnapping of the families of political figures. May mean something to people. I will also throw in the use of a private room at my inn for whatever reason you want. Stay the night for free or organize a clandestine meeting with people on the questionable side of the law."

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

"Izar Abelian."


Counting Shadows

"'Friends', yeah sounds right. I imagine I might like to come by for a few drinks sometime," matches Renn with a crooked smile of her own. Her ratty fingers twitch at her sides, clearly resisting the urge to physically wring them together at the news you bring with you. She masters the urge before too long.

"The shadowmarked have been active of late, haven't they? After all the new arrivals in town and now this 'Burning Birthday' everyone's whispering about, you'd think there'd be even a single elf inside their biggest theatre, right? But nope - empty. Not a soul in there I could see or hear. The stage was bare too, save for this." The halfling pulls out something from the inside of her coat, sliding it over the table: an envelope. In a tight scrawl is written a single name in lieu of an address.

"Who the hell is Drake, anyway?"

Spoiler: A Friendly Note

Show

I was not expecting anyone other than the Nailos to come for the orrery, but here you are all the same. Quite an entrance you've made into our little drama, dwarf. I greatly enjoyed watching you outmanoeuvre Velancor. How have I not heard of you before now?

Don't worry about the artifact; I've made sure it's in a new safe location. It doesn't go anywhere unless I say so.

If you want it back badly enough, meet me in at week's end at the old windmill beyond the city's south gate and we can discuss a deal. Far. Midnight. Come alone. Refuse the offer or try to pull anything clever, and I will disappear without a trace. Your masters will get nothing at all.

Your choice.

- D

[(Un)Inspired]

Gryphon rolls the name around his mind. Is there any difference between gangsters and governors in this town? We in Droaam are deviants but the highest courts of the land rely on mafiosos for their information? Who do I have to kill to get someone with actual morals like Prosecutor Kaessel on the tribunal?

He’s good. I’ve fought shield to shield with that Paladin now. He should blood-challenge for leadership of the human countries. He could win. And that human warrior, while you play-act human ceremonies, she lives The Mockery’s teachings better than some hierophants I know. The warlock and the dark bearded magician, they’re both using magic like they respect The Shadow’s gifts while you reach through the veil to chit chat with an old man. Don’t drown in your humanity. In your veins runs half the blood of magic, along with the blood of the humans, and you are the godson of a true magus, I worry you’re having too much fun playing at the game being a of man...

I haven’t forgot my masters! There is no will, only the words of Sora Kell, from the day my tongue was split I only speak for her Kingdom. I am the wind of change and you know that.

As the meetings with the human’s government wraps up Gryphon walls out with his comrades and contemplates his position in the world.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

During the time skip Gryphon takes care of all the things we’ve discussed plus the following:
1. He has Nondetection up every single day
2. He reaches out to Maugrim at least once a day with a Sending to get as much info out of him as possible and to give him encouragement to survive.
3. He genuinely enjoys his time hanging out with Layla but gives her lots of fun-oriented Adventurer lessons, mostly magic focused, and tells her highly censored versions of stories from his own childhood. If she’s gonna end up a ranger than he focuses teacher her cantrips so she can be the sort of ranger that has Druid cantrips, but primarily he tries to entice her to being a real magician and how the best swords-people are all spellcasters. (Maybe even hopes Jaunt becomes a familiar rather than an animal companion)

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Castle "So the guy who told us to 'be aware of who's pulling the strings behind the Tribunal' was the guy who was pulling the strings behind the Tribunal, deliberately pitting Lann," she points at each of the Magistrates in turn, "and Jarus, against each other. Tsk tsk, that is naughty. Almost as if he deliberately wanted to undermine Tribunal cohesion." She tips her head at the dead body of the infiltrator, eyebrows raised. Her voice sardonic, she adds "Surely not."

Spoiler: Timeskip Activities

Show

First thing's first: Grabbing the elf and getting her to guard Arano.

After that, her week will be spent working down the list of possible V targets, starting with Vicontessa Nebra ir'Ardev, hitting up Pfennigan next if it doesn't pan out, then Magistrate Adias Navel if she's still coming up short.
With Nebra she'll be "investigating Kasimir's death", probing information about that.
Pfennigan approach would be the magic crafters, looking into their disappearance, seeing if she can tease any leads from that.
Navel she'll be following up from after the party, since they were in attendance (as was Nebra, though Kett didn't recognise her at the party).

Not limited to daytime exploits, between darkvision, shadow teleports, stealth +4, Pass Without Trace and her Slippers of Elvenkind she's able to move pretty sneaky in the dark, and climb walls without much issue.
Solo nocturnal excursions (some might call it "breaking and entering with intent to steal") to search for documents/evidence will be done with a full disguise kit application beneath face coverings and unmarked clothing, but including a karrnathi tattoo beneath her right eye that's still visible.

Maugrim investigation is getting neglected hard, but who knows, maybe Pfennigan knows something about construct crafting.

[CozJa]

"Food for thought... food fot thought indeed" repeats the Prosecutor after the two Magistrate's admission. "Many thanks, to both of you. I... We will see it through."

With a nod he congedates himself from the Magistrates, collecting his thoughts on the many things which happened in the last 24 hours.

Spoiler: Timeskip Activities

Show

A lot of meetings. Sure I'm forgetting something. Probably will update later.

1) Raz, in a pub, to drink together and exchange information
2) Imra Irandra, the Talentan Magistrates, to drink together, exchange counsels, and ask for a favor.
3) Keeping in touch with Gryphon to receive updates on Maugrim's status
4) With Berem Lann, to decide their next moves; also visiting Thronehold in search of items of use.
5) Contacting some investigation experts (especially diviners) to see if there's something that can be done about the Orrery, the Codex or Maugrim.
6) Investigating on how people was able to infiltrate the castle.
7) Finding Izar and speaking with him.

[GameOfChampions]

Counting Shadows

Kleris runs a hand through his hair, it was not great that the house was vacated. It made the question of who had those watchers up there more interesting. Either way this was a dead end and getting even more dangerous to be here. Renns words do highlight the various factions increasing heavy handness though, "It has been getting rather curious why the houses are so... involved. Something I think we could both be keeping an eye on. Maybe stop by the inn next week and we can swap more info. As for Drake-

He makes sure not to glance at the professor beside him "-I know him and can pass along the message."

[3SecondCultist]

Interlude - Nameless

They brought him loaves of hard bread to eat in the dark. Always the same time, every eight hours, he'd hear the tread of heavy boots on the floor, followed by the jangling and scraping. For that barest of moments, he would see the world through a rectangular slot, the barest glimmer of warm torchlight and blocked out by a hulking armoured silhouette.

And then it would close again, and he would be left to scrabble blindly for his meal before the rats got to it.

He'd been too slow, the first few times. His hands brushed up against the scabby vermin, got a few scratches and bites for his trouble. He'd healed his hand before any infection had set in, but he couldn't eat faith. Without any weapons to fight them off, their war had become one of attrition: who could starve who out first. He'd given serious thought to catching and eating the damned things himself, if he wasn't worried about some kind of supernatural disease or curse.

"Probably wouldn't taste all that good anyway," he chuckled to his cell mate. As if in response, the skeleton's jaw-bone clacked off noisily to the floor, bouncing a few times before settling at last in one of the little crevices that made up the natural cave floor. One of the filthy rats had knocked it loose, most likely.

When he'd first come here... when was that? How long had he been down here? Months? Years? Or days? ... he had tried to count the bodies in here with him by finding them blindly, thrusting his hands out until he could count a skull here, a spine there. But every time he would forget what he was doing halfway through and lose count. He was sure he'd made it as high as four, one time.

He sighed. It probably wasn't worth the effort. Chances were, he was going to die down here just like the rest of these poor f*ckers. He might as well try to get some sleep while he still could. He just needed to make himself unappealing to the rats, lest they smell a more fragrant meal and start to eat their fill. Wiping his skin with the refuse from his last meal, he did his best to ignore the stench as he settled in for a rest.

The moment before he closed his eyes, words came unbidden to his mind; words he hadn't remembered in a long, long time.

The first duty of a soldier is to learn how to die.

---

When Thaliost finally fell, she'd fallen hard.

The city had originally been raised as a fortified capital, the western sibling of the two cities that used to be called 'The Twins' back when Galifar remained whole. Her walls were solid rock, at least thirty yards tall at their lowest point. Her eastern counterpart of the other side of the Sound was Rekkenmark, both settlements joined by the famous miles-long White Arch Bridge with its Orien lightning rail. It was ironic that it had been a Karrnathi king who had initially stolen the city by sending men across in 879 YK, a tactic that had preceded his own stratagem.

Of course, attempting a second land assault over White Arch would have been suicide: its use as a bottleneck made attacking an impossibility, given the abjurations already in place. The only reason it had even worked the first time was the sheer element of surprise. The Aundairans had simply not even considered the possibility that someone might try to take their most prominent port from the Sound.

Maugrim shook his head. How arrogant were the Aundairans, not to study their Karrn? "In the monumental task of war, true triumph evades those without an appreciation for history," he murmured, as he watched a statue of Dol Dorn being ripped down from its place atop the frieze. The visage of the god shattered upon meeting the flagstones to the cheers of a hundred Thrane soldiers.

Tonight, Thaliost had once again fallen to a surprise attack, only this time it hadn't come from across a bridge. The burning hulks of the fire ships still littered the bay at his back, the last remnants of his gamble.

He and the rest of his dragonmarked kindred had been hired for the season at great expense, but in order to make good on the full sum of their payment the Blademarks Guild had been asked by the Cardinals to take Thaliost, the former capital of a kingdom whose fortifications and magical wards had survived the unification of the Kingdom of Galifar. Such a task was thought impossible, a fool's bloody dream.

And he'd done it in under a fortnight, with ten thousand men under his command. The Northern Crusade, that was what they'd called it. The Thrane soldiers were already spreading throughout the city, rounding up the nobles and other sophisticates. They would be given the same hard choice offered to all in such straits: collaborate or die. A nearby woman was screaming as she was dragged into a house by a trio of soldiers and he looked away, gripping the gold-wire hilt of his halberd until his hands were white.

It was the way of the world, he repeated inwardly, and he was merely a paid sword here. The Thranes were simply taking their due. If he intervened here, he risked House Deneith's commission. Things could - would - come to blows and then the whole enterprise would have been for nothing. All of the deaths here, in the fields and out in the Sound... how could he risk the legacy of the fallen?

It was an ugly thing to be sure, but he had no choice in the matter. It wasn't his fight. It wasn't his fight.

He told himself that all the way back to the castle.

---

He awoke to a steel-booted kick to the ribs.

"Eugh, he stinks! Merciless sovereigns, is that what I think it is?"

"I don't even want to know."

Doubled over in pain as he was, managed to crack open one eye to see torchlight spilling into his living quarters and two figures standing over him. Both wore heavy aprons and masks over the lower halves of their faces, and he spotted wands at their belts along with a bevy of other instruments he didn't recognize. One had a pair of goggles on.

"Let's get him cleaned up." Roughly, he felt rather than saw a cloth being pressed to his skin, rubbing the filth from him until his skin was scraped and raw. Though he tried to bite back the cries, he found that he could not quite keep a sob at bay. Once the first was out, there was little point in trying to stop the rest.

So when the third man entered the room and approached, Maugrim's whole body was shaking, heaving in open convulsions.

"What is this? What have you done to him?" He felt a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him to his feet. For the second time, he opened his eyes. The man opposite him was a study in contrasts: shoulder-length chestnut hair flowed freely over brutish scarred features, yet he had a set of startling azure eyes looking at him with something approaching sincerity. Unlike the others, the newcomer wore armor; a moving painting of evening hues, all twilight and gold. He had two blades sheathed at his belt, and though neither were drawn Maugrim could practically taste their power on the air.

"I'm so sorry for all of this, you know. It was never my intent that you be treated thusly." The third man muttered something under his breath. Suddenly, he could feel the soil and other material being pressed from the fibres of his clothes. Within seconds his garments were dry and completely clean.

Frowning up at him, he put the pieces together. "You're... you're him, aren't you? You're the one that brought me here... where am I?" The man had a name. What was it again?

"Right where you need to be, my friend. I have been looking forward to meeting you for some time, you know. I read your treatise in the Rekkenmark Quarterly on mixed magical units in... I believe it was 986? You used evidence from the Siege of Korth to posit that mage specialist units were rarely worth including as battle auxiliaries, as a competent opponent would simply focus on them until they achieved a rout."

"I... yes, I wrote that." The words sounded vaguely familiar to him, at least.

"Good, good. I would have hated to have put in all this work to acquire the wrong man." His host's smile was warm and gracious. Maugrim felt the need to shiver all the same. "When you are feeling up to it, I have something I would like to show you. I believe you alone will appreciate the magnitude of what has been accomplished here."

That got a half-choked laugh out of him. "Lead on, then. It's not like I can say no, can I?"

---

The prisoner sat on the closer side of the table, facing away at the blank pattern of masonry on the opposite wall. According to the desk sergeant, she'd been brought in early this morning and had barely moved, not even to drink from the pewter mug of admittedly hardly-pure water sitting in front of her.

"And this is her?" he asked the sentry posted outside.

"Aye sir, that's the one. Stole from the treasury bursar with her friends. She's the only survivor." As he fetched the keys from the nearby doorman to open the lock, he took the opportunity to watch the prisoner through the bars. She sat with an unusual posture: back straight, hands folded, ankles crossed at a gentle angle. Maugrim's eyebrow twitched. This was no commoner they'd caught.

When the cell door swung open he strode inside, dismissing the guard on approach. In his full regalia, he seriously doubted that he was in any danger here. His instinct told him that he had nothing to fear from this one. Circling around her, he lowered himself slowly into the opposite chair and took his first look at the prisoner.

She was not what anyone would call 'classically beautiful': her nose was too large and her cheeks not well defined, and there was a plainness in the cast of her face that many would pass over. Dirty blonde hair tumbled well down her back; it had once been coiled into a bun, but enough of it had spilled out now that the whole edifice looked half mad. Yet now that he knew to look, he saw the subtle signs of her station in the tightening of her bottom lip, in the bulky cloth wraps that strategically concealed her fingers and wrists, in the resolute cast of her gaze.

This was not someone unused to challenges of the will. She would not cry for mercy, nor would she beg to be released. Whatever her choices, she had made them in the cold light of day and was not about to apologise for them. No, he'd get her another way. Reaching behind his cloak, he produced a small cloth bag and placed it deliberately in the middle of the table. Not directly in front of her or him, but equidistant.

It took about ten minutes of staring for her to break and reach for the bag. From inside tumbled a small locket, which opened with a click to reveal a portrait and her name in full. Alisanne ir'Torval.

"What do you want with me?" Curiosity, in the end, not fear, just as he'd suspected.

"I want to know what one of the city's daughters of privilege is doing mixed up with criminals. You're obviously no mastermind, or else you would have left that at home, but you must have known you were taking a huge risk. Why?"

She lunged across the table as if to strike him, only for him to grab her forearm at the last minute. Not as demure as her name suggested, he thought amusedly.

"Because unlike you, sellsword, I know what loyalty means. Loyalty to one's country, to one's place of birth. Thaliost will never belong to the Thranes!"

It was around that time that she pulled the dagger from her boot.

---

They left the grotto together, the attendants on either side of them. It took him a few moments of blinking and rubbing his eyes to get used to the light. They passed into some kind of angular corridor, clearly manmade and forged of some kind of scrap metal. Though he tried to make sense of the pattern, something about it eluded him.

"Truth be told, I have been eager to hear your thoughts on our project for quite some time. Come, it's just through here."

Ahead, the third man reached a door set with a circular seal which sizzled with lightning. He tapped a pattern into a mechanism on the wall and the lightning began to power down and fizzle out.

Stepping through the hissing portal, they emerged into a much larger room. The ceiling here was at least twenty feet above him, and spiralled down around a central pillar. About fifty feet away the floor dropped off into darkness, the only way down a set of sturdily constructed stairs descending into shadow. The whole area on this level was lit with phantasmal torches that glowed but emitted no smoke.

For a moment, he could swear that he heard a whimpering cry echo up from the dark below.

But none of that was as of as much interest as the sight that awaited them directly ahead: soldiers at practice. There were at least a dozen, each of standing the better part of seven feet tall, clad in castle-forged plate that looked curiously bereft of national insignia or other identifying marks. They also all wielded swords at least four feet long, all without a single scratch or blemish. The more he looked, the more he realized that there was something odd about the plating and the blades. In fact, none of their gear reflected off of the light properly; it all looked quite flat, as though half sketched onto a first draft of reality.

"What is..." his frown deepened. He had a memory... no, that wasn't it. "What is all of this?"

"This is training, old sport." The other man clapped him heartily on the arm before guiding him forward. "There's a readjustment phase, after the last of the procedures has been completed. New muscles need to be flexed, the limits of the body rediscovered. Thankfully the Mark Vs have shown remarkable resilience after... well, you don't want to hear the technical details. Why don't we take a closer look?"

Two of the behemoths were locked what seemed to him like a deadly struggle, as they closed with one another, one of them going for a high swing only to be replied by a parry and riposte that any duellist would envy. He could only as the two continued landing, countering, dodging and reeling at blows that would cripple ordinary humans.

"Not bad, aren't they? But here's the fun part. Watch this: present swords!" Without a moment's hesitation, each and every one of the giants stopped the drill, moves cancelled with barely a second's warning. Silently, each of them had turned to face them as the attendants moved in between the ranks, repairing any scratches or dents in the armor or weapons without having to be told. The third man beckoned for Maugrim to follow as he inspected the nearest sentinel.

Up close, he could see that whoever was under the armor wasn't even breathing hard. They simply... stood, awaiting orders, weapons proudly on display. Eyes patiently followed their commander from within the shadows of the visor.

"Who would you like to see? A Wroat socialite? A Reacher farmer? A Valaes Tairn outrider?"

"... what do you mean?" What was happening? Who were these people? Was he supposed to remember them?

"Ah, I know! One of your new friends. Subject 17, change." The plate folded away into nothingness, a second skin shed as easily as doffing an evening jacket. He suppressed the urge to look away from the flesh bared in the absence of a helm.

"Alias: Arimart Kaessel."

---

Maugrim wasn't sure what to do. His sword had been paid for until the end of the campaigning season, it was true, and yet House Deneith had officially maintained its neutrality in the conflicts so far. As far as the rest of Khorvaire was concerned, anyone who hired from their Blademarks Guild could use their soldiers as they saw fit.

The Council of Cardinals had seen fit not to raze Thaliost or to sack it - a move he had repeatedly suggested to his Flamekeep liaison - but rather to occupy it. Holding the ancient capital of Aundair beyond its initial conquest, he'd argued, would be a strategic mistake. Not only did Thrane lack the decisive amount of manpower needed to hold the city for more than a few months, but keeping it would lead to revolts. The Aundairians would not simply allow themselves to be annexed overnight. As a 'mere mercenary', he'd been overruled.

The first attacks had started less than a fortnight later.

Being vindicated wasn't enough to outweigh the concerns of what would happen if he lost Thaliost, so he'd come back the next week to try to speak to Lady ir'Torval. And the next week. And the one after that. Each time he'd been rebuffed, told in no uncertain terms where to put his words.

After the fourth stabbing and subsequent round of executions he was through asking for permission, so here they were.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?" She was shackled to the floor, the initial privileges offered to one of her station revoked after the last time. But that didn't mean he had to treat her like an animal.

He received only silence in return, resolute and frozen.

"Listen," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Lady ir'Torval. Alisanne. You stonewalling me is not going to help your cause. If anything, you're going to make it worse not only for yourself, but for your countrymen."

"Do enlighten me, mercenary. If I were to collaborate right now, turn coat on everyone here I've ever loved... how would that benefit anyone but myself?" The words might as well have been poison spit in his face, but they were better than nothing. He took a deep breath.

"Right now, Thaliost is under martial law. The Thranes have men on all the street corners, imposing curfews and rounding up any insurrectionists they find. And my men have been paid to help them: we will try to root out the radical loyalists, your friends among the population who are willing to steal and kill, to endanger the rest of the people here just to prove a point."

"Is that what you think we're after? To make some kind of argument?"

"If you're willing to ignore the reality of your situation and antagonize an occupying force of significantly larger number and military strength, then you're either making a political statement or committing some kind of mass suicide. Possibly both."

"We're fighting for our homes. I'm sure you would have us welcome these foreigners with open arms, those men that butchered and defiled our people?" Her voice never wavered. Damn it, was he starting to respect her, just a little?

It was more than somewhat aggravating.

"You still aren't listening, Alisanne. If you don't do something, more of your people will die. And not just your partisans, the people who have chosen to fight: you saw as well as I what the soldiers of the Northern Crusade did to this city the night they took it. Do you really think Thrane will care if a few more children are bled on the altar of their righteousness? The civilians, the noncombatants will suffer if your friends persist." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Thrane won't bat an eye at paying the cost in lives. By the time the Aundairans break through and retake Thaliost - or Karrnath, or whoever else comes first - it will be too late for those you supposedly care about. You were right before: I've got no skin in this fight. Like you keep on reminding me, I'm just a mercenary. My sword points where it's paid. So when I tell you this, I need you to know that I'm not saying it out of love for Thrane or her armies.

If you keep on your current course, everyone you love will be dead in six months."

She was quiet for a long time after that.

---

It was remarkable. And horrible.

He had witnessed wars in his time, of course, seen death and other hideous things. More than he wanted to remember, even here and now. But to see that, to see those things who were once people and had been transformed into a new kind of sword with which to cut the world... he did not believe a word yet existed to describe how he felt.

The demonstration over, his host ushered him away as the 'subjects' resumed their weapon drills. They did not return to the initial hallway, moving instead to another alcove where the sounds of clanging steel did not reverberate so loudly.

"Well? What did you think? A modern army for a modern world!" The third man was smiling again, and Maugrim had no reason to believe that it was anything other than genuine.

Why did that seem worse to him?

Modern. He played the word over a few times numbly in his head. "How many of these modern... soldiers do you have?"

"Now now," the man clapped him on the shoulder amiably, "don't be so hasty. Before we go any further, I will need certain assurances from you. An oath of secrecy, for one, but also a promise of fealty, sworn under the requisite spells."

"Fealty? I told you before that... that I didn't want any part of this," he murmured. "And instead of listening to me, you spent a fortune to bring me here. Why?"

The third man broke out into a deep laugh. "Do you truly not know? My dear Maugrim, if this project is to have the best chance at success, I need talented officers like you in my war room. Your illness isn't important; given time, my partner should be able to alleviate your symptoms, if not cure you outright."

He held out his arms, as though to encompass the whole world within his grasp. "And this? All of this would be a small price to pay for your genius."

It was... that was... they would cure him? He had not thought to expect this, that the man who had done... something bad. He still couldn't even remember his name.

The third man extended one hand towards him. An invitation.

"So what's it going to be, Maugrim? Join me, and together we can throw off the weight of the title they gave you."

---

The first meeting of the Thaliost Provisional Council had been... eventful.

The Flamekeep liaison had been less than pleased to learn that Maugrim had conspired with imprisoned Aundairan resistance leaders, but after several late nights of debates in the Thrane camp he was able to convince the officers that this would stop the attacks and allow for a more peaceful long term occupation.

They'd initially insisted on a system in which their commanders held veto power over both new and existing municipal legislation, an arrangement that House Deneith had been forced to take back to Lady Alisanne's faction - the Sovereigns, they'd called themselves on behalf of the pantheon. The Aundairans hadn't liked that, but after several episodes a rough compromise was arranged for the future.

Until a formal authority came into power, a Provisional Council would be formed over the city and her immediate holdings along Scions Sound. Thrane would remain the ultimate authority in terms of military power, but they would allow for up to half of both the civilian and noble seats on the council to be filled by 'Thaliost citizens'. In practice, this meant that nearly a full third of the council would be made up of Aundairans, and there would be no Thrane veto for the lower courts.

In exchange, every Aundairan noble appointed to the council had to swear publicly and under truth spells not to deal with Fairhaven under the table. The price for Thaliost's safety was burning all potential bridges to the west, one that the Sovereigns did only after a great deal of hesitation.

And House Deneith? They were to stay in Thaliost long term to 'ensure the safety of the council' and were paid by the council directly, taking a non-partisan stance in the conflict. After hearing of this business, Baron Breven had sent Maugrim an official field promotion to black blade - equivalent to Colonel in most Khorvairan armies - to be made permanent upon his next trip to Karrlakton.

He'd also sent along a private missive by Sivis messenger congratulating him on 'the greatest protection score of the decade'. The projected benefit to the House was more than generous, as long as the Provisional Council stood.

"Lady ir'Torval," Maugrim said as the servant ushered him into the dining hall. After today's session, he had accepted the invitation to dine with the official leader of the Sovereigns. He'd dressed up in his parade greens, and though he still wore his breastplate and greaves he'd taken the time to buff every piece of metal until it gleamed. His black leather riding boots had received a similar treatment, and he'd even visited the shops in the Three Corner Market this morning to look for a decorative sash to wear over his ensemble.

What? It was a formal dinner, dressing the part was only being polite.

Yet any polite thoughts he had dissipated when he caught sight of her. Gone were the grime-stained cloak and threadbare cloth wraps, replaced by an ankle length gown of sumptuous viridian. It hugged her curves perfectly, its fabric glittering like a field of stars under the everbright lanterns. Her blonde hair had been cleaned and curled, tumbling in perfect ringlets around her shoulders. On her face she wore a little bit of rouge - not too much, just enough to highlight her cheekbones - and had painted her lips to match.

"Colonel d'Deneith. It is a pleasure to have you at my table this evening. Shall we dine?"

This is a bad idea, Maugrim, he thought. He should just walk out right now, come up with some excuse. It would never end well; it never did.

"I would be delighted to."

---

The world stood still around him as he stood on a precipice.

"Well, Maugrim?" repeated the third man. His smile never wavered. Cor... Corwyn? Corvayne? Corleis? It was Cor - something. But no, that wasn't right. He knew even as he recalled it that wasn't his real name. And he'd... he had bombed those people. The Karrnathi - but they were monsters. Right?

The red wolves. Alisanne. The smell of it burning, all of it burning... he closed his eyes. The Thaliost he had come to love was dead and gone. A dream that had barely been, turned to ash in a senseless war. It had mattered so much then, who had taken her. She belonged to Thrane today, he was fairly certain, but everything that made it perfect had since passed on.

Gods, he'd wanted to forget it all. Hadn't he asked for it? Hadn't he wished, in those empty months, that the Host would take away the pain? Hadn't he asked for it?

And now here stood a man, a partner in another dance. He promised clarity - no, more than that, he promised vengeance. Breven and the others had only been too happy to cast the blame of the Thaliost experiment at his feet. Nameless, yes that was what they called him now. Excoriate. Outcast. Criminal.

Was that who he was? Was that who he had become?

"You need to say the words, Maugrim."

The fog hadn't lifted, but he still held onto everything.

This man had hurt people. He'd hurt innocents, continued a war and would hurt countless more. This was not his fight. It was not his fight, but he had sought Maugim out to help him. In doing so, how many had died?

Corleis. Corleis.

"I..." He paused. This man was an enemy of the continent; he was not to be trusted. He had promised Maugrim his memories back, and for a split second he could smell burning. It was all burning.

He would deny this man everything. Mind alone or not, he needed to live to thwart him. And that meant saying yes here, in this room at this moment. How reliable could truth spells be, if he didn't remember making the oaths?

This is a bad idea, Maugrim. A wayward thought from another time, another life. He did not recognize it.

He clasped the man's hand.

"I would be delighted to."

---

Five Days Later

Night falls on Throneport, the city of intrigue... and a seedy little tavern by the docks.

Enter our heroes.

Spoiler: OOC

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So here we are! Sorry for the long wait, but we're officially back in business.

Due to Starbin still being off, I have set up his character as working with Arano and doing research on Kasimir's journal. If it becomes relevant, I will have him re-enter the story either as an NPC or he will come back when Starbin returns, whichever comes first.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Returning to the Group Kett is of mixed emotions when she returns to the inn following her solo activities. She'd done a lot and hadn't been idle at all, but equally felt little closer to the end goal, instead following a string of trails to nowhere in particular. Still, she'd crossed a few names off the list and got a couple of new ones, so it hadn't been a total wash. At the very least she didn't see any need to hide what she found. The supplementary details were unlikely to be useful to her but the others - Gryphon especially - might find them of interest. Maybe she could bargain a favour or two with that if she cares to. She enters as if she owns the place, even if she doesn't, and finds it empty of those she might call the 'group'. A pity, she'd planned to be the last to arrive for the planned rendezvous. Fashionably late and to make sure that she'd get a glance at any would-be observers setting up after the others had turned up, since she knew Arimart was at least under surveillance. Hardly the end of the world though. Lacking anything else to do in the meantime while waiting for the others to appear from wherever they were, she simply takes a seat. They'd be along before long, she was sure.

[GameOfChampions]

Returning to the Group

Kleris comes out from his office as he hears someone enter the inn, seeing Kett he represses an awkward grimace. Their relationship had never really recovered from the whole 'Hunting Arano' problem.

'Well hunting down and capturing peoples loved ones is a hard hurdle to get over. Also the whole lying/misdirecting her to get close to her in order to find her on the run husband. Maybe you could apologize for that?'

He rolls his eyes at the virtuous lecture of Kleros. Maybe he had some points but it would be so awkward to apologize for all that stuff and besides the shifty agent was always keeping secrets anyway from them which made him not trust her much. Well he had to interact with her for the foreseeable future and besides he had promised Izar he would work with his team and that included Kett.

He walks over to the table she had set up at with a pair of drinks and sets them down He flashes an awkward smile at the women "Hey Kett. Did you have a good week? Busy or... what?"

He clears his throat and pulls out a thick pouch he starts fidgeting with, the clinking of coins clear as day. "I just wanted to apologize again for the whole Arano debacle, a whole lot of insanity happened and it turned out the tip I got was wrong. I wanted to bury the hatchet as it were, clear the air. Just get back to a working relationship, I don't need to be trying to gather info on you and you don't need to be hiding your purpose here in the city anymore... I think."

He shrugs and tosses over the purse onto the table by the drink he had brought over. "I was on the end of a pretty good deal this week and figured the best investment was to split it among the team. Make sure everyone is taken care of. If you don't want it that's fine, store it somewhere as a safety net for you and Arano after this is all over."

Spoiler: OOC

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1000gp in platinum in the pouch for Kett

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~7 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Returning to the Group Kett says nothing as the bag of money slides across the table to her. It might almost be an insult. 'Sorry I attacked your husband and put him in danger, here, have some money, doesn't that make it all better?' as if she could be bought so easily. As if her principles were so weak that the clink of coin might distract her from the offense, or that it might engender positive feelings that would stop her doing what was necessary when the time came. He'd be more useful to her if there wasn't any antagonism though, and if accepting his coin was what brought that eventuality then so much the better. "Alright then," she reaches forward and plucks the bag from the table, before dropping it into her own bag. "We'll call the air cleared." She inhales loudly, punctuating the 'break', to move past it. "I kept myself busy. Broke into a few houses, interrogated a few people, crossed a few names off the list. Nothing definitive sadly but making progress. Picked up some information that might be interesting but I'll save any details until we're all here, to save repeating myself." She still hasn't touched her drink, though she does grasp it casually. "Looks nice, what you've done with the place." She might as well make conversation while they wait, there was scant else to do. "All ready to open it up as a hive of the underworld?"

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris frowns a little at the lack of excitement as if he hadn't just tossed over more gold then most common folk see in a lifetime, seems like he needed to up the ante for this bet to pan out. The Changeling pulls out another pouch full of the same amount of money and tosses that over onto the table right where the first had been with a large grin "So if the one is 'air cleared' would another amount to something approaching begrudging acceptance or tentative friendly acquaintances?"

He gestures to the inn happily "Gryphon helped with some remodeling over the week which was pretty helpful. I can so you all later some time. Should draw in the 'right people' if you know what I mean."