"Oh, this will be much easier. Thank you Edward."
Semirhage cackles maniacally.
She then lazily waves her hand at one of the archers. Missiles of magic arc gracefully toward the archer, then strike with surprising force.
Edward keeps his flaming sphere on top of the archer he had previously targeted, then creates a disk of force to protect him.
The two remaining crew members throw themselves at your mercy, but receive only the release of death.
6 studded leathers, bucklers, short swords, and shortbows.
120 Arrows.
Hide Armour
MWK Great Axe
2 Throwing Axes
Key to Lock Box: 6000gp
Small Statue of a Nude Mermaid
115gp in loose coins
60gp worth of whiskey (6 Bottles)
You are close now. Just a few miles from here sits the small market town of Aldencross and less than a mile from there is the watchtower of Balentyne – your goal. Already Sakkarot’s horde gathers and prepares to move. Within two weeks, they will be in a small valley north of the lake awaiting your signal. Fire the rocket into the air at just the right moment and you will take the first step towards claiming vengeance against Talingarde.
Destiny has taken you here. Destiny has given you a mission. There is no doubt that the future of this green and pleasant land lies in your hands. You could go to that town right now and warn them of the plots of the sinister Cardinal Thorn. You could give yourself up and face the justice you deserve. You could turn back from the horror and the slaughter that you are going to inflict upon these Mitran sheep. This is that moment. This is the turning point. After this, there is no going back. Any one eager for redemption?
I thought not. Come, my friends. We have work to do. We must burn Balentyne.
"Well before we burn Balentyne, we may want to burn that boat. Hmmmm... we could spend the night here, get a good rest then in the morning head off to the town. We light the boat on fire and as people rush to investigate we slip into town? That could work. Also am I getting crazier and a new voice is in my head or did you guys hear that too?"
"A chance to prepare spells anew will be much appreciated," Edward nods. "Perhaps a little planning while we are at it - I can tailor my spell selection for the tasks we expect."
Edward ponders for a moment. "Perhaps we can refine your plan, Mordekai. I suggest we torch the ship, but instead of using it as a distraction, we rush to the town and claim we were attacked by bugbears. The rest of the crew were killed, but we managed to escape as they looted and burnt the wreckage. I think it would be understandable for mercenaries to flee if faced with an overwhelming force, yes? If we give that as our excuse for survival, I doubt many would question it."
"Even better, they will probably just consider us filthy, untrustworthy mercenaries who deserted a crew in danger. Their feelings of moral superiority will blind them to the possibility we are more than we say."
Edward looks around at his allies' faces. "What do you think?"
"Good idea Edward. There is the issue of how do we explain all the stuff I am currently hauling around. We could have one of us play a merchant while the rest play the hired muscle. We saved our own supplies and ran when the bugbears attacked. Our lovely Semirhage should be able to talk us out of any mess that comes up. I like the mercenary idea. Maybe we can talk our way into getting hired at the fort. They should know that there is an army coming and maybe want extra help. Still if something goes amiss they will suspect us first. Hmmm... plan need refinement."
"Perhaps we can refine your plan, Mordekai. I suggest we torch the ship, but instead of using it as a distraction, we rush to the town and claim we were attacked by bugbears. The rest of the crew were killed, but we managed to escape as they looted and burnt the wreckage. I think it would be understandable for mercenaries to flee if faced with an overwhelming force, yes? If we give that as our excuse for survival, I doubt many would question it."
"Even better, they will probably just consider us filthy, untrustworthy mercenaries who deserted a crew in danger. Their feelings of moral superiority will blind them to the possibility we are more than we say."
"Good idea Edward. There is the issue of how do we explain all the stuff I am currently hauling around. We could have one of us play a merchant while the rest play the hired muscle. We saved our own supplies and ran when the bugbears attacked. Our lovely Semirhage should be able to talk us out of any mess that comes up. I like the mercenary idea. Maybe we can talk our way into getting hired at the fort. They should know that there is an army coming and maybe want extra help. Still if something goes amiss they will suspect us first. Hmmm... plan need refinement."
"It may work..." says Vyllaria, "However, it may be best to leave the bugbears out of it. We could just as easily have been attacked by pirates or wandering marauders. In all likeliness, the guard at the fort may be aware that there are already Bugbears near their land. And if they already know the location of the camp... well, it would be best not to give them cause to suspect an impending attack. The less information we give the enemy the better."
"However, it may be best to leave the bugbears out of it. We could just as easily have been attacked by pirates or wandering marauders. In all likeliness, the guard at the fort may be aware that there are already Bugbears near their land. And if they already know the location of the camp... well, it would be best not to give them cause to suspect an impending attack. The less information we give the enemy the better."
"On the other hand, it would give our story the grain of truth that makes it believable. As long as they do not realize the magnitude of their peril and do not suspect us, the plan should move along unhindered. News of bugbear raiders shouldn't indicate a force the size of Sakkarot's, armed and armoured by Thorn, and permitted past the Watch Wall by us."
Edward shrugs. "That said, I'm also amenable to sneaking in. I can prepare magic to hide us from sight for a few minutes, and spells to avoid magical detection. I just worry about having them notice new arrivals. If we are to be here for at least two weeks, I think having a cover story would be helpful. It could be difficult to avoid detection for that long a time."
Semirhage thinks, then adds, "sneaking in would be preferable, yes. However, we must scout out the place before we make an attempt to sneak in at night. Edward, shall we attempt to enter the citadel under disguise as merchants tomorrow? Once we find a suitable location to enter we can return to camp and make further plans. Remember that I carry a portable window, so we could scale the walls or enter anywhere we wish to.
"Mordekai and Vyllaria, I have an idea which you may find highly to your liking. We need to know the layout of the castle if we are to find the commanding officers and assassinate them. I suggest you capture and interrogate a labourer or guard, get directions or have them draw a map. This would require stealth and caution so you do not get caught, and we must act quickly upon the information such that no one realizes the man is missing. What say you to this?"
"Investigating sounds like a good idea. I will prepare some magic to help with that."
Edward thinks for a moment. "My only concern is the ship. I don't wish to use up our distraction, but perhaps we should burn it now. It would be unfortunate if some townsfolk happened upon it while we were out."
Semirhage glares at Edward as if he were an imbecile, a says patronizingly "A burning ship will certainly attract more attention than a shipwreck. Let us simply sink the ship in the bay and be done with it. Mordekai, can you smash the hull for me a bit and push the ship into the bay? Don't forget to tie the corpses down, we wouldn't want one of those to surface on the beach. I'll make certain we have left nothing behind."
With that, Semirhage briskly walks over to the ship and proceeds to remove anything remaining of value from it.
Edward narrows his eyes. "I shouldn't have to remind you that Thorn ordered us to burn it, and we owe our allegiance to him. If he wishes the ship to be nothing but ash, then burn it must. We've sworn an oath to the Prince of Law himself, and I intend to follow orders to the letter. I treasure my soul too highly to do otherwise."
Semirhage pretends not to hear Edward as he speaks.
She returns shortly to where Edward is standing, carrying an armful of wooden planking. She flings it to the ground, then raises her hands. "Well, this should satisfy the oath," Semirhage says as she casts burning hands at the pile of wood. "Now, let us be sensible and sink it, I don't want anyone coming to see whether we are in danger or not."
Edward crosses his arms over his chest. "Perhaps you are more content to leave your eternal rest up to chance. I for one would like to avoid having my soul pass unjudged into the hereafter. I want my reward to be what I have earned, not what is chosen for me. I've been a little closer to that than you have, and believe me - I don't wish to be there again until I am ready."
"Why would you be willing to leave eternity to chance?" Edward almost shouts, incredulous at Semirhage's frivolity.
"Mordekai and Vyllaria, I have an idea which you may find highly to your liking. We need to know the layout of the castle if we are to find the commanding officers and assassinate them. I suggest you capture and interrogate a labourer or guard, get directions or have them draw a map. This would require stealth and caution so you do not get caught, and we must act quickly upon the information such that no one realizes the man is missing. What say you to this?"
"That sounds like a reasonable plan." says Vyllaria. Secretly she is astounded at Semirhage's sound tactical insight.
"Perhaps you are more content to leave your eternal rest up to chance. I for one would like to avoid having my soul pass unjudged into the hereafter. I want my reward to be what I have earned, not what is chosen for me. I've been a little closer to that than you have, and believe me - I don't wish to be there again until I am ready."
"Why would you be willing to leave eternity to chance?"
"I agree with Edward," says Vyllaria, grabbing one of the burning planks, "and, quite frankly, I have been looking forward to this for far too long. The ship will burn." She then lobs the burning piece of wood onto the deck of the ship.
"Mordekai, be a good sport and cast off for me, would you? Come now, let's too it. We are wasting daylight." With that she turns to the woods hoping to find a suitable place to rest for the night without drawing attention.
Semirhage looks at Vyllaria with disgust. "Little more than a savage," she says casually to Edward, clearly indicating Vyllaria. "Our souls are now blessedly safe, I suppose. It is clearly advantageous to stick to the exact letter and intent of the original arrangement regardless of the current scenario. My sincerest thanks for your forethought in this matter, Vyllaria."
Semirhage watches Vyllaria stumble awkwardly into the woods, and laughs. Then she goes and sets up camp in a spacious copse a few meters past the treeline, which she thought had been quite easy to spot. She is delighted to find a few delicious snails, in the process of clearing the underbrush, for the evening's meal.
Mordekai quickly pushes the boat out and watches as it drift out. "Camp for the night and then make our way inland tomorrow. I say we see if there is an inn or something to stay in before we go attacking the place. I would like a look of the fort before we make all of our grand plans."
"Semirhage and I should be able to get a look inside tomorrow while you and Vyllaria acquire some more information. Don't worry, we won't begin wreaking havoc until we have some idea of what we're dealing with."
First Watch:
The night air is cold and crisp, with a slight breeze winging through the scattered strands of trees. You do not hear much aside from the lapping waves on the shore a stone's throw from your camp.
You are undisturbed through your watch.
It is now the end of your watch.
You saw a fox skulk by a few hours ago, and now you think you see a glimpse of torchlight peeking through some distant trees, but you aren't sure.
Second Watch:
The night air is cold and crisp, with a slight breeze winging through the scattered strands of trees. You do not hear much aside from the lapping waves on the shore a stone's throw from your camp.
You are undisturbed through your watch.
Barely an hour into your watch, you begin to hear something: indistinct voices. They sound as if they were singing. You can't quite make it out though.
You are roused from your slumber by the sounds of singing coming from off in the distance.
Semirhage stirs in her sleep, feeling a strange and inexplicable pull on her mind. She concentrates for a moment, and it fades.
Edward's watch passes uneventfully. He wakes Vyllaria and Mordekai when their turn arrives, then beds down for the night.
Mordekai doesn't notice anything interesting on his watch. He stands watch playing with his magical trident and shield. The fighting style is different then sword and shield. This magic weapon has proven it's worth before so he figured he should get some more practice with it before it is sold off.
Vyllaria is awoken by Edward to take her turn on watch with Mordekai. Mordekai appears to be attentive for a while at first, but hen becomes distracted, playing with his sword. Vyllaria allows the time to pass in silence.
The rustling of the wind through the trees and the lapping sounds of the water at the shore are the only sounds she hears. It is somewhat soothing. It reminds her too much of her first day on the surface, and unbidden memories begin to surface.
She steals a quick look back at Mordekai. He is still not paying much attention, but she herself is too distracted with her memories, so she decides she needs to do something to clear them out of her head. "I'm going to scout out the perimeter," she whispers to him, then gets up and goes for a walk. She walks towards the shore first, then makes her way around to the copse of trees, circling the camp, keeping the fire in sight. She brings no torch, allowing her footsteps to be guided by the moonlight.
As Vyllaria creeps out into the night, she spots a few torches bobbing through the trees some distance away. She moves closer, and is shocked when suddenly her movements are no longer under her own control.
A savage grin grips her face as she straightens up and strides out into sight of the mob. The mob is composed of a gaggle of humans, goblins, and half-orcs. They are in various states of decay, from the picture of health (The humans, and one Halfling) to advanced decay.
A desiccated Half-orc missing most of his right arm and armed with a torch steps forward, and starts singing to Vyllaria.
"I know the gutter and I know the stink of the street
Kicked like a dog, I have spat out the bile of defeat
All you beauties who towered above me
You who gave me the smack of your rod
Now I give you the gutter
I give you the judgement of God!"
Vyllaria steps into the clearing and is greeted by the singing host of macabre specters, a horrifying array of the grotesque and putrid, a brazen mockery of both life and death. Bound by a strange enchantment, the rotting half-orc’s coarse and shambling lyrics sound almost melodious to her ears, and an odd sense of contrived security settles on her nerves. Everything feels surreal, as if the events unfold in a waking dream, and she the wanderer has stumbled in upon this sleeping twilight horror. She feels numb, as if her limbs were contrived of molasses, and the vantage of her consciousness is not wholly within her own body, but is somewhere without. From floating eyes, she sees herself as but a puppet on a stage, that dances next to these strange figurines of mottled flesh and bone. The sheer comedy of this preposterous situation drives her to speak with words that barely sound her own.
”Good tidings fellow wanderer,” she begins, before the unwholesome fey aspect of this gathering of the cursed and spurned seizes her in its fell madness, and she too finds herself singing, and dancing…
”Vengeance Victorious! These are the glorious days!
Women of Talen come gather your bloody bouquets
Now gaze on our Goddess of justice
With her shimmering glimmering blade
As she kisses these traitors she sings them a last serenade…”
With the last refrain she actually gives the disfigured Orc a quick peck on the cheek.
A crack of lightning fills the sky with scattered light, outlining a fifteen-foot tall guillotine standing on a hill. The decaying Half-orc leads the procession towards the great guillotine, waving his torch like a conductor. Vyllaria trails after him, gleeful smile on her face.
At this point, Mordekai hears something in the woods that sounds suspiciously like singing.
Trotting behind the rotting zombie of an Orc, the crowd joins in the chorus.
"Sing, swing
Savour the sting
As she severs you, Madame Guillotine
Slice, come paradise
You'll be smitten with Madame Guillotine!"
"The world may be ugly, but each man must do what he must," One of the human merchants sang pleadingly to the chief half-orc.
"Give in pretty dear, in a year you will be pretty dust" Crooned the diseased goblin matriarch, stroking the Halfling's cheek.
"Now come let our lady possess you
In her breathtaking, hair-raising bed
She will tingle your spine
As she captures your heart and your head!"
The mob joins in all together to sing the chorus again.
"Sing, swing
Savour the sting
As she severs you, Madame Guillotine
Slice, come paradise
Our Delilah will shave you razor clean!
The human merchant begins crying again, pleading to all that can hear him.
"God, when did man lose his reason?
Save us, my God, if you're there
God, can you not feel the terror like a fire in the air?"
Another bolt of lightning cracks to the ground, smashing into the decaying Half-orc. Suddenly, Vyllaria regains control of herself, just in time to see the Halfling's head get sliced off by Madame Guillotine. One by one, the other merchants are loaded into the macabre monstrosity and are treated to Madame Guillotine's kiss.
"Flash, slash! Glisten and gash!
She will ravash you, Madame Guillotine
Split, Madame just bit
Give her more to bite, she's a hungry queen
Sing, savour the sting
As she severs you, Madame Guillotine
Slice, come paradise
Hail her Majesty!
Madame Guillotine!"
With another great , Vyllaria finds herself standing alone on a hill.
Just beyond the edge of the hill, you can see what looks like a merchant's camp. Closer inspection reveals that the group is composed of four humans and a halfling...All without heads.
There is also a large chest, but you cannot find the key.
A dozen Javelins, one of which looks special.
A Masterwork Longsword
50gp
A Diary (Written in a language you do not know)
Mordekai stops his practising and enjoys the song. "You'll be smitten with Madame Guillotine. I like that line. Reaver was that your voice?" "Nope, nope, nope, wasn't me." "Hmmm, what ever then." Mordekai returns to the nothing that he was doing.
With a violent thrust and the crack of thunder, Vyllaria is sent reeling back into the eerie silence which fills the night. She stands alone on an empty hill, less than a mile from camp. She can just make out the light of the fire that Mordekai still attends. The air is cold, and the moon is out. Where the lightning came from she does not know, as there is hardly a cloud in the sky.
It is a strange feeling, that sudden release from a dream. You awaken suddenly in the night, your heart pounding, your mind racing, a blaring image burned on the inside of your skull, with silent screams still ringing in your ears. This is what Vyllaria feels. This is what Vyllaria sees. Not moments before she sang and danced with haunting ghosts and twilight phantoms; images of the bizarre and macabre. Horrors of only the most deprave depths of imagining. And for all her worth, she cannot think of a moment when she felt more alive. Alive. The word rings in her head like the ghost call of an ancient gong, echoing through the fog. I came but a hair's breadth from death, and yet I have been spared the blade...
The flickering light of a second fire catches her eye, and she walks down the hill towards it. Not far away is another camp, with a number of pitched tents and a wagon. Several people lie within, yet before she even reaches the site she knows what she will find. Opening the flap on the nearest tent she finds the halfling, dead, her neck severed. you were not so fortunate, she thinks to herself, before closing the flap and moving on to inspect the rest. Dead. All of them. Only another reason to distrust magic and all its uses. Whatever fell powers spawned this nightmarish horror, the world would be better off without it.
Not to be taken for a fool however, she finds the chest on the back of the cart.
Inside she finds a number of magical javelins (one of which seems to emit a magical sheen), a finely crafted longsword, 50gp and a diary. She pockets the gold, straps the magical javelin and the longsword to her back, and opens the diary. The garbled runes look unintelligible to her. Perhaps Edward will find this interesting. I can give it to him tomorrow.
Vyllaria heads back to her camp, where she finds Mordekai attending the fire. ”See anything interesting” he asks, indicating the weapons strapped to her back.
Vyllaria tosses him the sword and the pouch of gold. ”Found it in the woods,” she says and leaves it at that. The rest is history. There is still a long road until dawn, but tomorrow we will leave this place, and then we can leave these woods behind us. She pulls out her swords and begins polishing them. The light of the fire glints off the steel and she catches brief, grim, reflections of her own face in the metal. She smiles to herself, and quietly begins humming the tune which won’t leave her mind…
The rest of the watch passes uneventfully, and when it comes time to wake Semirhage, Vyllaria remains silent, only shaking her shoulder gently to waken her before going to sleep herself.
Semirhage dreams of voices, but her minds withdraws defensively. She does not awaken to witness the disappearance of Vyllaria.
When she is awoken by Vyllaria, she takes a moment to observe the drow's face. 'Something happened this night, I wonder what?' Semirhage wonders, but says nothing. She watches Vyllaria practically dance away, as if a hidden rhythm guided her movements, and softly chuckles in amusement.
Semirhage settles into a spot where she can attentively watch for intruders, then makes herself comfortable.
She grows quickly bored and, seeing an odd book beside Vyllaria's sleeping roll, she decides to pick it up and give it a read.
Losing interest in the book that she cannot read, Semirhage mindlessly begins rummaging through a pile of weapons which she does not remember unloading from Kargeld's ship. Noticing the magical glow of one, she takes some interest in it, and examines it more carefully with detect magic.
Your watch passes uneventfully.
In the morning Mordekai wakes up and meets with the others. "So friends, today is that day we start this little adventure. Edwards and V, both of you can use magic to hopefully scout out the fort. Me and Semirhage can stay here and keep our selves company while you are gone. Maybe talk to some people and see if there is a town near by. We will need a staging area to plan out our attack."
Edward frowns. "I think we'll stick to our plan from last night. Semirhage and I will try to get into the castle to take a look around, while you and Vyllaria snatch a local and try to get some information. Aldencross is the name of the town nearby. Try around there, but make sure that you are disguising yourself."
"Semirhage, shall we go?"
As Edward gets his first look at Balentyne, he lets out a low grunt. "We might need to revise our plan. This doesn't look like the kind of place merchants would frequent. Should we still try to look around, or do you want to ask about in the town instead?"
Semirhage glares at Mordekai, finding it inconceivable that he would forget her beautiful plan so quickly. Thankfully Edward seems to recall the discussion of last night, so Semirhage decides to forgo causing a scene.
"Yes, Edward, I am ready to depart," Semirhage says, using her iron circlet to appear as a buxom tribal merchant in furs.
"Perhaps a merchant would not get in, you are correct. Let me think," Semirhage says, and pauses in thought.
With a snap of her fingers, Semirhage uses her iron circlet to take the form of a tribal spearwoman, lithe and deadly. In a fit of melodrama, Semirhage breaks down into tears and sobs, "Oh! Help us holy knights of radiance! Our clans are under attack from eastern raiders, and we must see the commander at once to plead for help! We are full of fear and woe!" Semirhage ceases crying and asks Edward with a grin, "do you think they will let us into the castle in our helpless barbarity? At worst they will reject our petition and we will need to try a new tactic."
The village of Aldencross is not much to look at. It is typical of many sleepy garrison towns, with many smithies, an alchemists, a scribe's shop, and a few travelling peddlers. Aldencross is the capital of Lord Havelyn's serfdom, with Castle Balentyne its stalwart guardian.
Of note is the fact that there is but one inn in the town, The Lord's Dalliance.
It is a pleasant enough place with strong drink and adequate food. In the evenings there are often off-duty soldiers and even the occasional watch captain. Dancing girls and comely bar maids ply the soldiers eager to earn a share of the king’s gold. Lord Havelyn is never seen here.
"Alright, let's give it a try." Edward activates his iron circlet and becomes a similarly-dressed man. He straps his spell component pouch to a less obvious location, but still in easy reach. He looks for a safe place to leave his pack, and tries to cover it with detritus to hide it from sight. That done, he nods at Semirhage.
"I do have a spell that alters one's voice as well, but it does not last for very long - a few minutes at most. It's probably better that we use our own voices to maintain consistency."
Vyllaria dons her Iron Circlet as she makes herself ready for the day's expedition, activating its magical charm to take on the appearance of a young red-haired peasant girl, similar to the disguise she already used on the boat - non-descript, dirty, and travel worn; much like a farmer's daughter come into town to buy a few goods to take home. With any luck, this disguise will keep anyone from interacting with us unless we so wish to speak with them. As the magic of the circlet does it's work, changing the colour of her hair, skin and even her clothing, the hat itself transfigures into a dirty bonnet.
She and Mordekai trade ideas on how best to go about gathering the information they need. "I suggest we start at the inn. Many people pass through there - not just soldiers, but towns-persons and merchants. Doubtless someone will have seen the inside of the fort and be able to give us some useful information if their tongue can be properly loosened. A simple bribe may be enough to get the less scrupulous ones to talk, though I wouldn't suggest being frivilous with our coin. We can take what we need by force if need be, but if so then we must be discreet."
"It would be best if we try to blend in with the crowd," she says, helping Mordekai with his disguise, "I would suggest using your circlet to alter the colour of your skin to give it a... healthier hue. And try not to smile so much. Those teeth may be disconcerting."
"Since we are to of us, we may wish to act as a couple. Or perhaps a father and daughter? If we pose as simple farmers we will stand the best chance of not standing out in the marketplace."
"Do you have any other ideas?"
Vyllaria and Mordekai enter The Lord's Dalliance in search of food and drink. In actuality that is not their purpose, but that is what anyone who sees them would most likely think. Vyllaria orders a cider and a bowl of stew from the man/woman/knave at the counter, and finds an empty table to sit down at. She keeps an ear open and an eye wandering as she sips her cider and pushes the bits of stew around in the bowl, eavesdropping on whatever conversation she finds interesting. Eventually she bores of the bland mush and gives her bowl to Mordekai. She then gets up and roves around casually insertign herself into ongoing conversations, chattign to the bartender, and generally feelign around for rumours that might eb circulating around town. She specifically targets merchants and guards; anyone who looks like they might have business in the castle proper. And to those who don't she hints at needing to find someone who is familiar with the goings-on in the fort.
While she remains as attentive to her eavesdropping as she can, the foul-tasting stew and poor quality of the cider begin to wear on Vyllaria's mind. So to keep up her focus she makes idle conversation and discusses further information gathering strategy with Mordekai.
"We should try the marketplace next, if nothing turns up here. We may even be able to pawn off some of the goods we have collected thus far, if we are careful. It might look weird if a farmer tries to sell a large number of seal pelts and tarnished weapons. I suppsoe we can always change up our disguises if need be, though we'd have to do it someplace out of sight."
Vyllaria thinks on that for a moment then suggests, [b]"Perhaps I should rent us a room? We may need a place to stay for the night anyways. The less times we walk past the gate guards the better. Though really, somewhere off the beaten track would probably be better. Less likely to have someone nosing in on us when we want it least. What do you think?"
Mordekai enjoys the left over soup that his "wife" gave him. He makes sure to smile every time she looks his way and do all the stupid flirting that would be expected. He starts start joining conversations with who every look friendly. While V was trying to find someone connected to the castle M was trying to find someone who knews what was going on in the town. He wanted to find someone with their ear to the ground and start building a relationship. They might be here a while so time to get friendly with the locals. He makes sure that he seems stupid and requires things to be explained. The locals eat it up that they might be smart then him.
After talking to who ever he could find, V comes back and he joins her at the table to talk. He lets her finish before adding his 2 coins. "I would say rent us a room here. We have already entered this town loud so we might as well continue it. It would look weird if we didn't so we will keep playing the part. We can just say that we traded some food and other equipment for these tusks and pelts. I don't think anyone would care to much. To the market place my sweet dearest. Let us see what we can find. Maybe we can find you a new "kitchen" knife. One that might just look like a sawtooth."
Semirhage puts some finishing touches on her disguise, deciding to appear as a young shaman's apprentice rather than a fierce warrior.
Semirhage and Edward walk up to the castle gates along the road, noticing light traffic of servants and guardsmen.
Reaching the front entrance, Semirhage says to the guards, "I have come as a representative of the Yutak tribe, sent by the great shaman White Tusk to negotiate with you lord on behalf of our people. Please grant us an audience."
The pair of you manage to collect these rumors from the townspeople:
”Have you ever been to the choir hall of Balentyne? Amazing! The priests are such beautiful singers and sometimes the stone saints that adorn the place join in the chorus. Such a miracle!” This from a balding man flushed with ale, hands waving wildly.
”Lord Havelyn is a good soul but so grim and gloomy. For so great a lord to be unhappy, he must be guilty about something!” A young woman says to her drinking partner, a halfling.
”I hear Captain Varning is leading another patrol out tomorrow. I wonder how long they’ll be gone this time? The last time they were gone for five days! If you ask me, these patrols are a waste of time. They’re just an excuse for Varning to get out of the tower and gallivant around the country side instead of doing his fair share of guard duty.” Says a scoffing dwarf to his tablemates.
”Did you hear about prisoners escaping from Branderscar? Were they ever caught?” A young man leans forward to the circle of dwarves, eager to gossip.
”Soldiers today! A worthless, shiftless lot! Balentyne is in total disarray. Soldiers today are too lazy – not like in my day.” An old dwarf scoffs at a comment by his younger brother.
”Do you know how the Lord’s Dalliance got its name? It was once a brothel! I hear there used to be a secret passage to the basement that allowed the Lord of the Watchtower to sneak in here and have a good time. Of course it must have been sealed up years ago.” The Halfling wiggles his eyebrows theatrically to the blond-haired young woman.
You also have the pleasure of watching a Dwarven Bard at work.
There are many armourers here in Aldencross, due to its proximity to Castle Balentyne. If you seek to buy or sell weapons, you should have very little trouble. Other things may not be so easy…
The gate guard looks at you tiredly, and waves you inside. The gatehouse is much larger than the one at Branderscar Prison, and far more formidable.
You are led past the portcullis, across the drawbridge, and into a long hallway. The guard then leads you through the first door on your left, to another small hallway. The hallway turns, and at the end of the hallway is a large circular room with stairs leading up to the next floor. Once you exit, you are lead along a path to the keep. Two guards stand at its doors, eyes sharp for the first sign of trouble. They are not the first you have seen, and they are not the last. A group of five guards jogs around the keep, grumbling under their breath.
You enter the keep quietly.
In a throne at the other end of this large meeting hall sits the Lord of this castle: Lord Thomas Havelyn.
”What business do you have here?” His tone is brusque, but not aggressive.
Semirhage lowers her eyes, as if in shame that she, a strong-willed free tribeswoman, would have to ask for the aid of a noble knight.
She says to him, "Great is the power of the knights of Mitra, a god whom my people are just beginning to know." Semirhage continues speaking, showing admiration for the knights and rather obviously trying to flatter Lord Havelyn.
She continues, "We have been sent by the chieftain White Tusk of the Yutak tribe, as representitives for our tribe. Recently, we have been attacked unfairly by pirates and thieves who seek to steal our ivory and pelts." Semirhage spins an elaborate tale of their journey and why they were sent to negotiate on behalf of the tribe for the aid of the knights.
She continues, with a ray of nearly sincere hope in her eyes, "Will you send aid to us, Lord Havelyn? The chieftain White Tusk is not so foolish as to believe you will help us for nothing in return. He offers this: should you send ships to help us sink the pirates and thieves, he will allow your missionaries to come among our people and set up altars in our lands. Furthermore, he offers a tithe of our finest ivory and furs to you and the church at the end of the hunting season." Semirhage carefully observes the way Lord Havelyn responds to her proposals and attempts to offer him more of what he seems interested in.
Also, Semirhage looks around the room in detail, much of her examination is on Lord Havelyn, as she assesses his strength and equipment.
While they are still out of sight, Edward casts Misdirection on both himself and Semirhage, with the target of his spell component pouch.
As Edward passes through the castle, he looks around everywhere with the wide-eyed look of a primitive encountering civilization for the first time. In truth, he is noting defences, patrols, lines of sight, and troop dispositions.
Once in the Lord's hall, Edward surreptitiously glances around, assessing the positions of guards should this go south.
He lets Semirhage do most of the talking, but chimes in helpfully with extra details to enhance the ruse. He plays the part of a young warrior who has never seen the kind of power that the fortress represents, in hopes that it will make the Mitrans underestimate his strength and maybe even get them to brag a little.
"Great is the power of the knights of Mitra, a god whom my people are just beginning to know."
Lord Havelyn's eyes narrow slightly as he peers at you, his gaze assessing.
"We have been sent by the chieftain White Tusk of the Yutak tribe, as representitives for our tribe. Recently, we have been attacked unfairly by pirates and thieves who seek to steal our ivory and pelts."
Lord Havelyn sits silently on his throne, rubbing his fearsome beard with his left hand.
"Will you send aid to us, Lord Havelyn? The chieftain White Tusk is not so foolish as to believe you will help us for nothing in return. He offers this: should you send ships to help us sink the pirates and thieves, he will allow your missionaries to come among our people and set up altars in our lands. Furthermore, he offers a tithe of our finest ivory and furs to you and the church at the end of the hunting season."
Lord Havelyn beckons to someone on his left, and a servant comes from the alcove.
"Fetch Tacitus. I have need of his counsel."
As the servant nods to his Lord, Havelyn stops him.
"Oh, Francis. I have need of Captain Mott as well."
In the silence, Semirhage and Edward have ample time to scrutinize Lord Havelyn's magnificent plate armour, his flowing and luxurious beard, and his razor-sharp blue eyes. His eyes, which are fastened directly on Semirhage's.
"Now... Would you like to tell me the truth?"
His voice is cold and damning, sharper than anything you have ever felt.
Mordekai and V leave the Inn and begin making their way to the market. When no one is around he begins to talk about the rumours that they heard. "I heard two that stood out to me. One is that the Inn used to be a brothel with a passage that traveled to the fort. Sounds like it could be our way in. Maybe tonight you do what you do best and try to find it. Keep it quite for now. Once we start killing then we loss any cover. Speaking of killing, the second rumour was of a knight that will be traveling soon. Apparently he leaves tomorrow. If we find our way in tonight and then we hunt him down. Get the information we want out of him and kill him. See what E and S think of this. We did well today. Let's go shopping sweetie."
Semirhage stammers, feigning confusion and injury, "b-b-but my lord, we have come in peace seeking your aid! If you cannot help us, then let us depart in shame, returning to our tribe shorn of dignity. But please, consider the sincerity of our need, and the great promise we made you!"
"Great is the power of the knights of Mitra, a god whom my people are just beginning to know."
Lord Havelyn's eyes narrow slightly as he peers at you, his gaze assessing.
"We have been sent by the chieftain White Tusk of the Yutak tribe, as representitives for our tribe. Recently, we have been attacked unfairly by pirates and thieves who seek to steal our ivory and pelts."
Lord Havelyn sits silently on his throne, rubbing his fearsome beard with his left hand.
"Will you send aid to us, Lord Havelyn? The chieftain White Tusk is not so foolish as to believe you will help us for nothing in return. He offers this: should you send ships to help us sink the pirates and thieves, he will allow your missionaries to come among our people and set up altars in our lands. Furthermore, he offers a tithe of our finest ivory and furs to you and the church at the end of the hunting season."
Lord Havelyn beckons to someone on his left, and a servant comes from the alcove.
"Fetch Tacitus. I have need of his counsel."
The servant nods and exits quickly.
In the silence, Semirhage and Edward have ample time to scrutinize Lord Havelyn's magnificent plate armour, his flowing and luxurious beard, and his razor-sharp blue eyes. His eyes, which are fastened directly on Edward's.
”"Now... Would you like to tell me the truth?"”
Havelyn's eyes glint angrily.
"b-b-but my lord, we have come in peace seeking your aid! If you cannot help us, then let us depart in shame, returning to our tribe shorn of dignity. But please, consider the sincerity of our need, and the great promise we made you!"
He smiles patronizingly at Semirhage, and glares once more at Edward.
"You may be innocent of deception, but your silent companion is not. No, I can sense the vile stench of evil clinging to him. He has likely perverted your purpose here with foul magics. My magister can set him straight."
Havelyn pauses slightly.
"The great promise? I do not recall any such thing. Although a promise of peace and aid could be beneficial... But that is for another day."
Havelyn glares at Edward from his seat on the throne.
"Guards! Seize that man!"
Semirhage feigns shoving her friend away in disgust, but secretly grabs the iron circlet off of his head, 'He will need this when I help him escape later.'
Screaching in disgust at the sight of a tiefling beside her, Semirhage screams, "Great betrayer! You have ruined my people's hopes, we are doomed now and I will be forever shamed!"
She runs from the room, sobbing.
Lord Havelyn seems shocked to see a Tiefling where a Tribesman once stood.
Edward is dismayed at being found out, and even more so when Semirhage takes his circlet. I could have used that...
Taking advantage of the situation, Edward forms the most fearsome scowl he can muster. "It seems you are too powerful. We must look elsewhere." he spits out, venom coating each word. With a snarl, he vanishes from sight.
Edward flees out the door Semirhage opened, running past her on his way to the wall stairs that lead to the western wall.