”It’s just us I’m afraid. We made some new friends though. Can we come in and chat?”
"Och, aye! Of course ye can!" Dravite ushers the adventurers past the bemused guard and into the fort.
"Master Dravite, it appears you know these people," the hellknight officer intones as she strides over, "Please introduce us."
"These are the heroes of Sandpoint and Turtleback Ferry, I will have ye know, and me friends," says Dravite proudly. "And this bint here" - the woman bridles visibly as he waves vaguely dismissively in her direction - "is Maralictor Tavio, who's in charge of all these wee tin soldiers."
Maralictor Tavio sends Dravite a poisonous look, but she clicks her heels and nods curtly in greeting. "At your service," she says with a clipped Korvosan accent. "So you cleared this place out of ogres in the first place? Excellent work. I look forward to consolidating those gains and ensuring that law and order is projected into the wilds." She glances at each of the adventurers, although her gaze lingers for a moment on Sefayll. "So why are you here?" she continues.
Sefayll keeps her silence, thinking on what she knows of the officer before them.
"Ah, err, yes Mistress Tavio. My part was, errm, a small one. But we sorted the Ogre problem. Then another Giant one on the plateu. Now we have another, even bigger problem to sort. Problems such as those seem to follow us around. What we really need though, is a map, of sorts, to know the best route to Keer Maga."
Leading a riding horse through the door of the stable into the bailey, an armored Varisian man pauses, his head swiveling toward the group as he catches the halfling's reply to the Maralichtor. The look of vague annoyance on his weathered face turns to one of sharp focus, and he makes no effort to conceal the fact that he is now listening to the conversation.
He is about average height for a Varisian, long mousy hair held out of his face by the band of a floppy burnt-orange beret that droops down the left side of his head. His long, thin mustaches extend a couple of inches past his stubbly chin, both flecked with a bit of gray. The eyes regarding the group from the furrowed, bushy eyebrows are a deep brownish gold.
He is wearing a fine, but obviously well-used suit of plate, gauntlets tucked into his belt, and a lobster-tailed, visor-ed helm on the pommel of his saddle. His is wearing a tabbard of faded turquoise, accented with bright, clashing orange at the cuff and hem. No symbol or heraldry adorns the tabbard. The well-worn hilt of a greatsword protrudes over his right shoulder, the brass tip of its scabbard just a few inches from the ground.
He shoots one last annoyed glance back the way he came, then slowly begins leading his horse toward the group at the gate.
"Pray pardon the interruption..." he says to Camlo in a rough voice.
I cannot ask for assistance and I need something to do other than hope I don’t look too uncomfortable under her gaze. When opportunity knocks...
With a deferential duck of the head to the hellknight officer, Sefayll moves to intercept the man leaving the fort. ”Sir? If I may have a moment?”
A young woman in nondescript clothes separates herself from the back of the group facing the officer. She leads a horse as she hustles over, either trying not to inconvenience you or get away from the hellknight. She doesn’t look back, so you think it’s the former.
To your experienced eye, a few details seem incongruous, but she seems to sincerely have a question for you. ”Are you familiar with the area, sir? We are seeking a guide for a trip to the City of Strangers.”
Ivori eyes the approaching woman, eyes darting briefly to the Maralichtor, then sketches a short bow to her.
With a show of making room for her horse, he leads his own back a few paces from the group.
"I've spent a number of years roaming through a lot of Varisia, and I have a pretty good map. I can't say I've ever traveled from here to there, but I daresay we can find it easily enough. Once we find the edge of the Rise... But first, let me ask - did I hear your friend there," he juts his chin over to indicate Camlo, " talk about a 'Giant problem' on the Plateau? As in, a problem with Giants?"
2) She leads a horse with a riding saddle and arrived with a group that just got here from somewhere that can’t be close, but the gear is hastily lashed on. It is unlikely even the greenest of travelers would have ridden long with that arrangement.
3) You believe you see the haft of a weapon among the gear on the saddle that is a good two feet long. For an unarmored woman?
She nods and responds, her voice low enough to converse but not carry, ”Aye, a problem no longer. There is much in the telling, but there was a stone giant arcanist that was disturbingly close to raising an army to take back ‘their’ lands from the smaller races. Specifically humans and the like. Unless someone uses wish magic to resurrect his stony corpse, that threat is no longer. His erstwhile army has dispersed and returned to their clanholds and more reasonable heads now prevail in their elders’ meetings.”
”We seek something in Kaer Maga as part of the longer tale. I must warn you, I cannot make any promise of reparations - we generally survive on what we find. It can be hard to find a buyer for a stone giant’s polearm.” She smiles, ”Or transport it, for that matter.
Ivori listens intently as the woman recants her tale, though she may notice that his eyes take in her clothing and gear.
His eyes narrow a bit as she comes to an end. "If the giants are no longer a threat...well, first, that is tremendous news. There have been hill and stone giant attacks up and down Varisia. We had them in Wolf's Ear and Galdurin...But we can talk about that later, perhaps. No, I want to ask...If the giants have been put paid, what's the urgency to get to Kaer Maga? I assume you've got some urgency, if you're stopping by a hold of Hellknights. I certainly wouldn't have, if I didn't have the need."
She frowns, considering his remark about the attacks, "I cannot say that the giants are no threat at all, but a significant instigator of the problem has been removed. As the others learn their leader is no more, any remaining rebels should lose their nerve or be easy to neutralize."
"As for why we are here, my traveling companions have friends among the rangers of Fort Rannick and did much to relieve them when they were under duress. You've noticed their numbers are far lower than necessary to man the fort? That's why the hellknights came - to augment the rangers' decimated forces. Without my friends, there might not be any remaining rangers at all."
"Our thinking was that if anyone could guide us to the city, it would be one of the rangers. As for why we seek to go there, that's a long story that I'm sure we would be happy to share as partial payment for service rendered - considering we have little else to offer at the moment. Opportunities seem to find us, however, and I have faith your assistance would be rewarded somehow." She taps an index finger to her lips for a moment before adding, "Let's say the rebel stone giant leader didn't set on his path without prompting. We are pursuing the next link in that particular chain to dissuade him from hatching similar plots in the future."
"Ah." the Varisian answers flatly to Sefayll's last statement. THen he shakes his head and sighs.
"No, I should have known it would not be that easy. Well, then, I think I'm going to take a trip down Kaer Maga, way, m'lady, and if you and your freinds happen to be heading the same way, well, many feet make a road lie flat, as my people are wont to say."
He gives her a tired little smile and offers his hand.
"I am called Ivori."
She smiles and returns the grip, "Sefayll Valerian."
Looking over at the rest of the group, she muses, "They may be amusing or confounding the maralictor for a while. I would go tell them of our discussion, but I have my reasons not to do so." She seems to be considering something, but shakes her head, deciding against it.
She tests the word, "Ivori," nodding when he indicates she has it right. "Your kit indicates you to be a man of war. Are you specifically a hunter of giants?"
A shadow passes over his face for a moment before he replies.
"No, not as such. When you've spend significant time adveturign through Vasrisia, fights with giants are almost inevitable, so it pays to be prepared, but, apart from the last month or so, I've not gone pursuing them specifically. "
One of the horses begins to approach Sef and the stranger looking suspicious (for a horse) but backpedals back to the rest of the group's horses with a snort when the conversation seems friendly. You may notice his ears pointed towards you listening to the exchange.
Sefayll gives the curious horse a bemused look, but doesn't explain why that one's not on a tether of some sort, a fact Ivori is sure to note.
Asher, doing his best to keep his mouth shut around the Maralictor, shuffles and grimaces uncomfortably. He watches Sefayll step away to talk to a man. "Do we plan on staying here tonight, Cam, or are we passing through?"
Away from where Ivori and Sefayll are conversing, the maralictor nods in acknowledgement of Camlo's request. "We have some of what you need. If you would like to step inside the keep - it is not often that we have such prestigious visitors."
Camlo grins. "Thank you my lady. Camlo Zenovia, at your service." he bows politely, and moves to follow.
Ivori cocks an eyebrow in faint amusement at the odd horse, then turns back to the conversation.
"I expect we'll have plenty of time on the road for more...open discussion. What say you to this, Sefayll; I was on my way out, and I hate to do anything to cause our very efficient hosts pause. I'll head up the road to Skull's Crossing," Ivori says, pointing the way, "and set up camp. I stayed here last night, but, truth to tell, it was none too restful. I'll stay there a day or two, and you and your friends can put in an appearance here - it'd look a bit fishy if they were to leave after being invited in - and catch up to me when you're ready. I could take a day or so of not moving," he finishes, looking down at his well-worn boots with a small, rueful smile.
"I believe that suggestion is sound. I will discuss with my companions and we will contact you as soon as practical."
She turns to follow the others, leading her horse.
With a wave to Sefayll's companions, and a polite, if cool, nod to the Maralictor, Ivori begins leading his horse pas the knot of people and out of the gate.
If uninterrupted, he will casually walk, leading the horse, for about an hour and a half, then find a good spot by the road to pitch a tent.
After a few minutes, a group of hellknights hurry out of the keep. They make straight for the dwarf Dravite where he is directing work in the bailey and seize him. His shouts are quickly smothered with a gag and he is dragged to a trestle where they pin him, face down and arms outstretched. One of the soldiers draws a sword and with deliberation touches it to the back of Dravite's neck. Then he pauses, looking up at the keep.
"Please, in here." The former ogre den has now been replaced with a well-appointed meeting chamber. A large table is surrounded by chairs. Light shines through several narrow glazed windows. "Please wait here a moment," says Maralictor Tavio, stepping out of the room and leaving the adventurers alone.
As expected, these hellknights couldn't be trusted. As the soldiers grab his companions' friend he begins weaving spells of protection around himself anticipating violence. He communicates to the other horses to be ready to bolt in case things go badly. He keeps an eye out looking for some kind of signal from the keep.
Asher looks around at everything for the first time, and takes a seat.
Asher looks around at everything for the first time, and takes a seat.
"Sefayll Valerian, formerly of the Order of the Nail, you were charged never to return to the Order on pain of death. You have flouted that charge, and now I am arresting you, as I am required to do. You will all drop your weapons and surrender!
"In case you are minded to resist, your erstwhile companion Dravite Schorl is currently in the bailey, and if you resist he will be executed. Look out of the window if you do not believe me."
Straightening up to stand at attention, Sefayll faces directly forward.
"Congratulations on your post, Maralictor. I had heard of your ambition and efficiency. No doubt that is how you have earned your commission to lead this contingent in lands typically foreign to the Order of the Nail."
"With all due respect and in the interest of avoiding a misunderstanding becoming a grave error, I must point out that your understanding of the terms of my discharge is inaccurate. I have followed and continue to follow the terms of the last command given to me."
After a moment he says, [b]"Melefactor, the charge as I understand you said was "Never to return to the order." it may be a pedantic argument, but we came to seek advice of the rangers. We had no knowledge of your presence. Does happenstance count for nothing? Sefayll hasn't returned to the order so much as she has returned to the rangers and found the order to be here."[b]
Not seeing a signal forthcoming right away, Tikrok starts to walk towards the captured dwarf tensing his muscles getting ready to charge. He lets out a loud neigh to get some attention.
One of the soldiers looks up as Tikrok approaches. "Who let the horse out?"
"Good. Take them to the cells. Send word outside - take the dwarf to the cells as well."
Hellknights stream into the room. They manacle the adventurers hands behind their backs, gag them and then haul them roughly out of the room, down two flights of stairs, and to the castle's dungeon. They are brusque but not cruel, except when they 'accidentally' drop Asher down the last flight of stone steps.
They are then locked, one to a cell. The spellcasters still bound and gagged, but the others have their bonds removed.
Tikrok follows the other human's trail along the road. Eventually he finds him relaxing by a small tent and poking a small fire into existence.
"Ivori, please do not be alarmed. My name is Tikrok. I am one of Lady Sefayll's companions. It seems was right not to trust those hellknights. No sooner had you left and they had gone inside that they grabbed their dwarf friend and threatend to execute him apparently as a rout to get them to surrender. As soon as I heard they had surrendered I bolted out the gate to come find you."
As he hears the hoofbeats, Ivori casually gets to his feet, a small smile of welcome...
...that fades into slight puzzlement, as he hears the pace of the approach.
In a hurry...but not a flat gallop. Only one horse? Something is not quite right here...
Ivori faces the road, leaning on his greatsword, which is sheathed...for now.
When Tirok transforms in front of his eyes, he gives a wry chuckle.
"Druid. I might have known."
He listens to Tirok's tale, then, quickly and efficiently, begins breaking down his camp and armoring up.
"What grounds did they give? As much as I personally dislike them, the Hellknights generally have a justification for what they do - at least an internal one."