[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIV

[-Sentinel-]

As soon as the key was out of the keyhole, Elsa slowly stepped away from the chest with heaving breaths. Her skin was covered in sweat despite the bone-chilling cold enveloping her. She tripped on a loose object in the darkness and fell on her behind with a muttered curse.

"Señora?" called the Estalian. "Estás bien?"

<Nothing I couldn't handle,> Elsa called back. <Can you get some light in here?> Realizing she'd just spoken Tilean to an Estalian, she repeated her answer in Reikspiel, hoping the soldier understood at least one of the two languages.

"So that's how it's going to be, eh?" she whispered at the Book, shakily rising to her feet.

She exited the cellar. Despite her best efforts to look confident—as a magister should be—she was quite sure she looked as shaken as she felt.

Tonight, I'm making an offering to Morr, she decided.

[rax]

Bardhyl answered Orso with a jaunty salute. As he and his men rode deeper into town, he muttered to Grim: "Six men and the sergeant at the gate. That's a fifth of his manpower in one place. If he has men patrolling the streets at the same time, we can take them down quickly and quietly without the ones in the hall being any the wiser. Take out their leadership and a good chunk of the soldiery, and we might even be able to intimidate the rest into giving up."

"Let's make for Marjan's and I'll find out where Wadim is holed up.The we can start making proper plans."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Once the money had finished trading hands, he left the business of getting everything loaded to his men and took the chance to speak with some of the other traders and sailors on the docks. While Burhan didn't seem overly concerned about river bandits, it was still something worth keeping an eye on.

Spoiler

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Sieghard won't be going far. He'll stay within sight and close enough to return quickly if any trouble seems like to start. He wants to learn as much as he can about the wreckers themselves and what sort of ships/cargo they've been going after.

(1d100)[19] vs 64 Gossip
(1d100)[80] Reroll

[LCP]

Sieghard, 12th Sommerzeit

The wreckers didn't feature strongly in the chatter among the docks today - it seemed they hadn't hit a boat in a while. More pressing among the dockworkers’ concerns was the ever-falling level of the river. Biting insects swarmed over the wide mud-flats left by the receding waters, and some of the deeper-drafted riverboats were now having to anchor midstream, the water too shallow for them even at the very ends of the piers. Small boats went back and forth from the big barges, ferrying their cargo to the mud-covered stevedores waiting on the bank.

“This goes on much longer,” said one of the men Sieghard asked about the wreckers, “there won't be any boats left for those bastards to rob.”

Pressing the subject, he managed to extract a few more details, like the name of the last vessel to be hit. “It was the Gudgeon, three, four weeks back. Bound for Putbad, carrying I don’t know what.” Sucking his teeth, he looked Sieghard up and down. “Don’t know why you’re so interested, but I’ll tell you for free, you’re not the first I’ve seen sniffin’ around. There was a hill-man asking the same questions. ‘Bout a week after it happened, if I recall.”

---

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

There was no need to find Wadim: Wadim found them. Joining them at Marjan’s, he made it seem like a chance meeting - but looking around, Bardhyl noticed how many of the other vrani in the alehouse seemed to act in concert with the old man. There was someone on the door, watching out in case the soldiers should come by. There was Marjan, already prepared with a jug of kefir and a wooden tray of clean cups. And there was that moon-faced girl Miruna, the smith’s daughter - Bardhyl wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but she seemed to be hanging on Wadim’s every word.

“Bardhyl!” said Wadim, making a show of embracing him. “How are you doing? No more run-ins with monsters in the hills?” He laughed and patted Bardhyl on the side, where the wyvern had stung him. “It’s good to see you back.”

Taking a seat, he poured himself a cup of kefir. “I got your message,” he said, nodding to Zana as he lowered his voice to a tone not easily overheard. “We’ve been doing what we can here. Talking to the Karvan chiefs, stashing supplies where the Prince’s soldiers won’t find them. Plus, making sure our big Tilean bear and his friends don’t start feeling too comfortable.” A half-smile creased his wrinkled face. “Not pushing them too far, of course. Just keeping them on their toes.”

Pouring another cup, he passed it to Bardhyl. “How have your travels in the lowlands been going, then, eh? Learn anything useful?”

OOC:

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Remember Morr's Seat is a small hilltop settlement. 6 Iron Company being at the gate when you got there doesn't necessarily mean there are always 6 Iron Company at the gate - 1 sentry on the wall could see you coming a long way away, and would be able to fetch the others very quickly.

[-Sentinel-]

16th Sommerzeit - Elsa and Urgrim


At dusk, shortly after dinner around the campfire, Elsa rose to address the gathered soldiers and civilians.

"Good evening, ladies and gents. I know I haven't spoken to you much, and I'll likely spend most of my time here absorbed in my studies. But I'd like to hold, um, a little ceremony."

The gazes on her were quizzical. Elsa was all too familiar with people not knowing how to deal with her, but it never made her any less nervous. She felt as if anything she ever said or did was viewed through the lens of her being a "witch". She was not allowed to be strange or awkward for any other reason than that.

"I'm not sure how much you've been told about what we're doing here," she said, boldly forging ahead. "I'm not at liberty to give you all the details, but what you need to know is that our foe doesn't only want us dead... Our foe would deny us our eternal rest in Morr's realm. That is why... I want Morr on our side. I've never been the most pious person, but a man from the Raven Hills has shown me firsthand the power wielded by the Guardian of Souls. I want that power with us today, and all days until our task is done."

She removed the lid of a small clay pot and grabbed a stick of incense, which she threw into the campfire. A sweet smell filled the nostrils of all present.

"I'm no priestess. I don't know Morr's holy texts well, so I won't try to quote them. But we can still honor the dead. That should please Him, hopefully."

She took a deep breath. "Let me tell you about a friend of mine, Adelbert."

She launched into a little speech about the late priest of Verena. His prideful and stubborn spirit, his courage in the face of danger, his insatiable intellectual curiosity, his sense of justice, his belief that even the worst people could see the light of truth and be redeemed—though she did not specifically mention his foolish attempt to convert a daemon to Verena. She spoke of the little school founded by Adelbert in Painford, how this school lived on to this day thanks to the efforts of his friends, and how, with this school, his legacy in the Reaches might last for decades or even generations despite the short time he spent in this part of the world. As long as there still lived someone who learned to read by attending Adelbert's school, Adelbert lived on through them.

"And that," she concluded, "is how I believe we overcome our fear of death. By doing good deeds that will outlast us. By leaving a blessed legacy. Tonight I honor Adelbert, and all of the dead—those at rest, and also those who haven't found their rest yet."


She turned to Urgrim and handed him another stick of incense. "What about you, Urgi? Can you tell us about a deceased person you know who's left their mark on the world?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Let's see if Elsa's speech can get the ball rolling.

Charm 59 (no Public Speaking though): (d100)[25]
Fortune: (d100)[98]

---

17th Sommerzeit - Elsa


Elsa was up early the next morning in the house she had chosen as her workshop and laboratory. Poring through her grimoire of pyromancy and performing small-scale spellcasting experiments, she tried to figure out if Aqshy's destructive power extended beyond the physical world, and could potentially burn straight through an enchantment if properly wielded. Raw violence was what her magic was best suited for, and so it seemed the most logical avenue for her research.

Spoiler: OOC

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What's Elsa's initial research plan now she's had a preliminary poke at the book?

To be clear, we're not yet at the ritual design phase?

Just let me know if any tests are needed at the current step.

[Thragka]

16th Sommerzeit - Elsa and Urgrim

Urgrim accepted the incense with austerity, and stood in silence for perhaps a moment longer than the ceremony demanded. "Thrunrik," he offered. "A Dwimmulson ranger, and one of the finest I've ever known. He led us – myself, and other rangers – to the Red Pyramid, where we learned that an ancient deed had been undone, and an ancient enemy had returned. We owe a lot of our victories so far to him, and the others who died in the sands. I wrote some words to remember him by:

"'It is always better
to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning.
For every one of us, living in this world
Means waiting for our end. Let whoever can
Win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
That will be his best and only bulwark.'"

It didn't flow as well in Reikspiel as it did in Khazalid.

[rax]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

There was no need to find Wadim: Wadim found them. Joining them at Marjan’s, he made it seem like a chance meeting - but looking around, Bardhyl noticed how many of the other vrani in the alehouse seemed to act in concert with the old man. There was someone on the door, watching out in case the soldiers should come by. There was Marjan, already prepared with a jug of kefir and a wooden tray of clean cups. And there was that moon-faced girl Miruna, the smith’s daughter - Bardhyl wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but she seemed to be hanging on Wadim’s every word.

“Bardhyl!” said Wadim, making a show of embracing him. “How are you doing? No more run-ins with monsters in the hills?” He laughed and patted Bardhyl on the side, where the wyvern had stung him. “It’s good to see you back.”

Taking a seat, he poured himself a cup of kefir. “I got your message,” he said, nodding to Zana as he lowered his voice to a tone not easily overheard. “We’ve been doing what we can here. Talking to the Karvan chiefs, stashing supplies where the Prince’s soldiers won’t find them. Plus, making sure our big Tilean bear and his friends don’t start feeling too comfortable.” A half-smile creased his wrinkled face. “Not pushing them too far, of course. Just keeping them on their toes.”

Pouring another cup, he passed it to Bardhyl. “How have your travels in the lowlands been going, then, eh? Learn anything useful?”

OOC:

Spoiler

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Remember Morr's Seat is a small hilltop settlement. 6 Iron Company being at the gate when you got there doesn't necessarily mean there are always 6 Iron Company at the gate - 1 sentry on the wall could see you coming a long way away, and would be able to fetch the others very quickly.

"He did seem a mite more drained this time round," Bardhyl chuckled at Wadim's mention of keeping the Tileans on their toes.

"I've learned a great deal, but the news is less good than I'd hoped," he admitted. "The Downlands appear to have been hit the hardest by the locusts. It's not a full on famine yet, but the gallows in Savonne are full of desperate folk that can't pay for what food there is. And the lowlanders are turning to the Jackal again, even though the Tilean has forbidden his worship."

"I spoke to Herr Stubbs and his friends, but I'm afraid only the Halfling sees that Sforza is as dangerous to the Reaches as the Jackal. So, they'll happily strike against the Jackal if they can, but they're too beholden to Sforza to contemplate raising arms against him. If we had more time, perhaps Herr Stubbs could convince them or help us find allies outside of the Tilean's court, but with the drought and the famine...I think time is a luxury we no longer have if we are to rid ourselves of Sforza," Bardhyl said.

"Of course, while we busy ourselves with our mortal plots, who knows what the Jackal will come up with next?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Ah, then Morr's Seat is smaller than I envisioned it. I saw it as cramped, but also took that to mean that there's precious few broad/straight streets inside the walls, so it would take a while for the garrison to move from the hall to the gate. Is there a map of Morr's Seat somewhere? I checked the wiki, but couldn't find anything there.

[LCP]

16th Sommerzeit

Elsa & Urgrim

Jorge had formed his troop up as Elsa had requested. His Estalian veterans looked polite but puzzled - Elsa wasn’t sure their Reikspiel was good enough to understand everything she said. The Last Water recruits seemed to understand better, but stood ramrod-straight and silent all the same. On the edges of the firelight, the camp followers they’d brought along looked on with curious expressions.

Elsa’s tribute to Adelbert, and Urgrim’s to Thrunrik, didn’t bring forth any volunteers from among the soldiers to share their own stories. Jorge just looked back at her - and, as the uncomfortable silence stretched longer, uttered a benediction to Morr. The other soldiers echoed it back, their murmuring voices blending together in the dusk.

Bardhyl

“Yes, I heard about the swarm,” said Wadim. “If I were a less charitable man, I’d say the lowlanders were getting a taste of what we’ve been suffering here. I only thank Morr it didn't turn this way.”

He listened to the rest of Bardhyl's news in silence, stroking his beard. “That’s too bad,” he said. “Even if we were stronger than we were, we couldn't afford to fight these Tileans alone. We need something to divide their attention.” He shrugged. “But your friends in the south aren't the only distraction we can use. Like you say, it's our enemy in the west who’ll force the question - sooner or later.”

He leaned forward over the table, lowering his voice. “I’ve been watching Sergeant Orso and his men. He’s a tough old brute, but he's cut off and outnumbered, and he knows it. It's only fear that lets him keep the people here in line.” He raised his bushy eyebrows at Bardhyl. “The question isn’t whether we can take him. It’s if we do, what comes next?”

OOC:

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No map thus far, no. It’s definitely not laid out on a nice grid, but it’s not a deliberate labyrinth either - this is a place people live, you can expect that there are going to be reasonably efficient paths from point A to point B, even if they’re not straight lines. Particularly when point A is the main gate and point B is the chief’s hall.

[rax]

16th Sommerzeit

Bardhyl

"That is the question, isn't it?" Bardhyl answered. "I think the only thing we can be sure of is that the Tilean will retaliate. Perhaps not immediately, perhaps not even while the famine is ongoing, but eventually he will come. The cost of letting us go our own way is simply too great for him to consider - if we can reject his rule, so can others. So, with that in mind, I would prefer to be in control of the timing," he said.

"What is our food situation like? If we take the garrison, how long can we last if Sforza or his lieutenant respond by blockading the Hills?"

[LCP]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

Wadim’s expression grew grim. “Not long, I think,” he said. “This would be a hard year, even without the Tileans squeezing us.”

“You think a blockade’s what it’d come to?” he asked. “That takes a lot of men. Men who’d need feeding themselves… men he might need for taking the food from other people's mouths.” He looked hard at Bardhyl. “He’s got enough men to crush us, doesn't he? Why wouldn't he try to do it in one stroke, if he could?”

---

Bezahltag, 17th Sommerzeit

Sieghard

Sieghard had returned to Painford with three wagonloads of cured meat, the other three having been left in Ingwald’s care in Ravenskird. The barrack block he had appropriated as a storehouse was fast filling up; when Hanna’s troop returned, living quarters for the Thorns were likely to get pretty crowded.

One of them, in fact, was already here. A number of travellers had arrived from the south, among them Whispering Thom, still in his Thorns uniform. Hanna had sent him with a message.

“Things are starting to kick off in the Vale,” he said. “We’ve been trying to collect the Prince’s grain, but the farmers up the valley won't give it up. There's about a hundred of them keeping a picket around the mill.”

“Herr Sussman’s been up there for three days trying to talk them round, but he’s getting nowhere and he knows it. And more of them keep showing up.” Thom looked over his shoulder. “We’ve been keeping clear of trouble, like Herr Stubbs said - but Hanna heard Sussman sent a message to Savonne asking for reinforcements. The Iron Company won't be so gentle.”

Elsa

The singed old grimoire she had taken from Fassbender’s library didn’t offer much in the way of what Elsa was seeking. Whatever cracked hedge wizard had written it, they had been far more interested in their own creations than in unmaking those of others. Setting it aside, Elsa turned back to her own experiments, dredging up what memories she could from her long-lost Altdorf days.

...”What we are going to study here today,” Magister von Lodern was saying, “is magic that most of you will never master.” He liked to start most of his lectures like that - no-one ever challenged him on where he got his statistics.

Elsa hadn’t been paying particular attention that day - had she ever? Lodern had been rabbiting on for the best part of an hour without actually showing them anything, holding forth about ‘arcane instruments’. Stones of power, dwarf runecraft, something about an elector count’s sword… if she wanted a dry lesson in history, she’d read a book. Eventually. When she got around to it.

“...and there is the heart of it,” he was saying. “You are learning to bind the Wind of Fire with words. To command it, you must express your command. But the spoken word is fleeting. A man desires to make an agreement binding; he commits the words to paper. A man desires his name to be remembered, he inscribes it in stone. Magic, too, obeys these laws.”

Reaching under his lectern, he produced a scabbarded sword. That certainly got the room’s attention.

“Words scribed in steel last longer than those spoken aloud,” he continued. “Just so, a spell worked in steel can hold its power for many lifetimes, where a spoken spell is cast but once. But to work that spell requires the same precision and will as it does to speak it.” With raised eyebrows, he looked around the room, his hands still resting on the sword. “We have taught you the lingua praestantia. How many of you speak the language of the forge?”

At last, he drew the sword, holding it up to his audience. Warm light filled the hall as flames leapt up along the blade.

“Words have power,” he continued, “whether they are carved in stone, cast in iron, or ciphered in the colours of a crystal. Study the art of how the world speaks,” he said, sheathing the sword again, “and in another eight or ten years, one of you may be able to create an object like this.”

Elsa woke from the daydream with a start. She’d dozed off midway through making notes - but as she wiped the ink off her face, she saw that her handwriting hadn’t trailed off where she remembered. Instead it continued, her scribbled Reikspiel morphing into scratched Nehekharan hieroglyphs that ran on well past the point where the quill had run dry. With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she recognised them - they were the same glyphs that had burned themselves into her vision from the pages of the book.

Words have power. Her old tutor’s words echoed around her head. Were the spells that protected Nagash’s great work written onto its pages themselves?

OOC:

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To provide a bit of additional info here in answering the question you asked:

• Elsa doesn’t have a wealth of good test materials here - i.e. other magical objects to try to dispel/disenchant. Unless she can rustle something like that up she’s going to have to proceed off theory alone.
• What Elsa can remember from her College education/what her books indicate is that magic items retain magic either because their creators bind magic into them through their design (what von Lodern talks about), or through steeping in ambient magic so long that they absorb it. If the book is in the former category then ‘can you burn the magic away’ would be essentially the same question as ‘can you burn the pages away’ - just a contest of which magic is stronger.

I don’t think we need any tests for this background knowledge. Finding out new stuff, that’ll be the subject of the research rolls - but we should resolve those over longer timescales than single days.

---

Angestag, 19th Sommerzeit

Ludo

Hitching a ride downriver, Ludo landed back in the docks of Savonne late on Angestag afternoon. He’d continue south in the morning; for now, his first concern was a decent supper.

In the taproom of the Fat Fish, he overheard some gossip. Everyone was talking about the same thing - apparently, a large column of Iron Company men had marched out over the bridge. Where they had been going was the subject of fevered speculation.

“I heard there was some trouble brewing out in Arrow Heap,” said the first man Ludo asked. “Folks not happy with the new laws. That's where the wheat country is, you know.” He wet his whistle with a gulp of ale. “Or was.”

“Not ‘appy?” cackled his drinking companion. “They're about to be a lot less ‘appy! I saw those soldier boys marching out. They ‘ad them ogres with ‘em.” Leaning over the bar, he tried to flag down the barman for another drink. “That’s the problem with those lads from the Heap. Ever since they bloodied King Pieter’s nose they think there’s no lord nor lady can tell ‘em what to do.”

“Mm-hm,” said his friend, nodding. “Wouldn’t like to be in their shoes now, that's for sure.”

[rax]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

Wadim’s expression grew grim. “Not long, I think,” he said. “This would be a hard year, even without the Tileans squeezing us.”

“You think a blockade’s what it’d come to?” he asked. “That takes a lot of men. Men who’d need feeding themselves… men he might need for taking the food from other people's mouths.” He looked hard at Bardhyl. “He’s got enough men to crush us, doesn't he? Why wouldn't he try to do it in one stroke, if he could?”

"I think he would, if he believes he can do it quickly and there are no other troubles to distract him," Bardhyl admitted. "But if he's fully aware of our supply situation, there's always the chance he'll choose to preserve his forces if he thinks he can force us to give up by blockading the Hills rather than coming straight for us. I suppose it depends on just how little he thinks of the Vrani as warriors," he chuckled grimly.

"Zana reported back that you'd said all the Vrani would fight if we call on them. Was she being optimistic? How many men under arms do you think we can realistically count on?" he quizzed Wadim. "I have a rough idea of how many men Sforza has on hand in Alvarran and Savonne. I need to know what I can put up against that before putting together a more detailed plan."

[LCP]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

"She told you nothing I didn't tell her," said Wadim, giving Zana another nod. "Outlanders have ruled in Morr's Seat before this, but always from Morr's Seat. The hills never swore allegiance to this lowland prince - and they know when they're being squeezed dry." His voice remained calm and level, but his left hand, resting in a closed fist on the table, tightened until the knuckles whitened. "They know it's fight or die."

"As for how many that makes... it depends who you're counting." He gave a sideways half-smile. "A lot of our best fighters marched to Arrow Heap, and many didn't march back. Counting the boys, the old men, the wounded who can still hold a spear... I'd say two, three hundred might answer the call. Weapons, maybe enough for one hundred." He shot another glance over his shoulder, but the watcher at the door still seemed at ease. "Making more could be tricky. Orso's boys here are practically sitting on top of the forge."

[rax]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

"Well, we'll have weapons for thirty more once we deal with Orso," Bardhyl replied with a grim smile. He said nothing of the number of warriors they might count on. "That is our first step in any case. Kill or capture the garrison quickly and quietly. Doing it quietly is key - the longer it takes for the news to get out, the better. Ideally, neither Sforza nor Carraciolo will even know they've lost control until we're ready to show our hand. By then, maybe we'll even have been able to make ourselves some new weapons..."

"Yes, that's how it's going to have to be. The next step will depend on what we can find out from Orso, so he needs to be taken alive and mostly unharmed. The same goes for at least a few of his new recruits. The veterans, they'll be loyal to Orso and their company - it'll be too much trouble to get them to talk. But the recruits, they're in this for the money and three square meals a day. I think they can be persuaded to spill their guts and corroborate or refute whatever information we can wring out of Orso."

Bardhyl was silent for a while, thinking hard. When he spoke again, he kept his voice low enough that only Wadim could hear. "This isn't something I ask lightly, but who's working with the Tileans? Who's helping them keep tabs on troublemakers in town?"

Spoiler: OOC

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I completely forgot Zana is here with us.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard in Savonne, 12th Sommerzeit

"A hill man?" Sieghard asked. "Dark hair? Tattoos on his arms? Laughs even when there's nothing funny?"

Once the dockworker had confirmed his suspicion, he returned to the carts. What Bardhyl's interest in the wreckers was, he could only wonder.

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Seems like the trail is cold enough that Sieghard isn't likely to find much more. He'll ask Burhan to write to him if another boat is attacked.

---

Painford, 17th Sommerzeit

"She was right to send word," Sieghard said. "How long ago did Sussman send for the Iron Company?"

[LCP]

Sieghard, 12th Sommerzeit

“That's the feller,” said the man. “Friend o’ yours, is he?”

---

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

“You remember Alin?” said Wadim. “He’s made himself their go-between. Not that I hold it against him,” he said, raising his voice as he heard a few foul-mouthed grumbles cut the air. “Man’s only doing what he thinks is right. Probably saved a few hotheads from an early grave.” He poured himself another drink. “More gave him a talent for kissing boots, and he’s used it. But, if you're planning to make a move on Orso, best keep him out of it.”

“They're no joke, these Tileans, you know that Bardhyl? They're killers, well armed and well trained. And from what I hear, they took your weapons too.” He gave Bardhyl a searching look. “There are people here ready to fight, but not to walk into a slaughter. What's your plan?”

---

Sieghard, 17th Sommerzeit

“Two, three days ago I think,” said Thom. “Hanna sent me back as soon as she heard.”

There were a steady trickle of people passing through Painford these days. Had Sieghard seen Sussman's messenger go by already? For all he knew, they could be here in the village now.

[rax]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

"Oh, I remember him alright," Bardhyl answered with a nasty grin. "Good to know he hasn't changed. We'll leave him well out of this unless I can find a use for his...talent."

"They did indeed. Seems the good sergeant considers us troublemakers," he laughed at the mention of Orso seizing his gang's weapons. "No matter, though. Whack a man over the head with a stout cudgel, and he goes down as easily as when you stick him with a blade."

"The plan is simple enough. I assume Orso has at least a couple of men out patrolling the town? We need to isolate them and take them down quietly. At the same time, we deal with the watchman at the gate. Next, we create a ruckus to bring out Orso and a goodly number of the rest of his men to restore order. We trap them and ambush them, then we deal with whoever's still in the hall. Lots of ways to do that - send one of the captured men back and tell them that Orso needs them, or beg to be let in because the barbarians are after him, or we put the place under siege and convince them to surrender. That'll be easier to do if we show them we won't hurt them beyond holding them prisoner," Bardhyl quickly sketched the outline of a plan.

"So, what's the garrison's routine like? Does Orso do any patrolling himself, or is he always in the hall unless there's trouble brewing? Do we have any of our people working inside the hall? If so, that gives us more options. This would also be an opportune time for you to reveal that there's a secret entrance into the hall that no one else knows of," he winked at Wadim. The prospect of planning the capture of the garrison seemed to energize Bardhyl.

[LCP]

Bardhyl, 16th Sommerzeit

“Afraid not,” said Wadim, with a grin. “It's not hard to get in, though. Plenty of folk who come and go besides the soldiers. They’ve got six serving girls cooking and cleaning for them, all vrani - and more than that, it's where they're keeping their stores. You can imagine, they take a lot of deliveries.”

“For the patrols… as far as I’ve been able to tell, there are always ten men on watch. One up on the wall, nine down in the streets. The sergeant stays up at the hall, and I’ve never seen less than ten men on duty there with him too. So twenty armed men ready to come running… if we move in daylight.” That was clearly supposed to be a significant ‘if’. “After the sun goes down, it's just two men on the gate, and two outside the hall.”