Scratchtail spots you and the bound elf from the watchtower. His shrill small voice carries over the quiet town "They're back!! And they have a prisoner!"
The silence breaks in a Cascade of opening doors, exclaiming voices, and shuffling feet. Soon, a disorganized and confused mob of villagers surround you and Elrin, demanding answers.
The bound elf mutters something under his breath.
"Surely a few of these are not so great a loss in any case."
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Firstly, I hain't goin' back t' Brookside. Hain't nothin' fer me there anymore. Me n' Ol' Gray'll be up 'ere somewheres in the 'ills. Second, I got no friendly feelin's fer this orc, but neither will I spill 'is blood. E's redeemed 'isself sommat 'elpin' us even t' fightin' gainst 'is own kind. Let'im go 'is way n' may I 'ope t' never see anodder o' 'is kin. Third, seems t' me that if the elves got some plot goin' on, the best way t' get everone t' believe ya, is t' get'em to admit t' it theyselves. Dunno 'ow y'may 'complish that, jus' sayin'.
So, if ye all be 'eaded back t' town, I'll take me leave. Give me love t' all the blessed folk there. Goodbye, but ye may yet see me again.
Mel nods in understanding at Hirda's declaration. "May the gods keep you safe wherever your path takes you. And Hirda ... Time will tend the sorest wound. Be sure to give her time to work. All right?"
----
Looking sharply at the bound prisoner, Mel leans over and whispers quietly to him: "Jumalat tekivät heidät. Epäilemättä, kun tavataan jumalia, he muistavat kuinka vähän olet ajatellut heidän työstään."
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As Hirda says her piece, Halak listens silently. Then he holds out both hands palms up and bows his head respectfully. Though they were enemies, he's come to respect the tough Dwarven woman and recognizes her wisdom.
Perrin looks a bit forlorn to see Hirda leave so suddenly. He doesn't speak for a moment, staring down at his feet. Just then, a flutter of energy passes over the group as he mends the last of her injuries.
He looks up then. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
...
As they approach Brookside, Perrin takes a blanket from a mule's saddle and drapes it unceremoniously over Elrin's head. "I was thinking," he explains, "we could tell them we don't know who he works for or why he did this, and that we're taking him to the city to face justice." He looks at Vors. "Are you okay with that? I really don't think it's safe to tell the whole story."
Mel nods. "That sounds workable," Mel says. "But may I suggest a refinement? Don't volunteer information, especially if it isn't true. If someone asks who he works for or why he did it, the answer we give is 'We're taking him to the Bishopric. They can figure that out.'"
"That has the virtue of being completely true: we are taking him to the Bishopric, and they can figure it out. But it implies that we don't know who he works for or why he did it, without ever actually saying so. It is far easier to omit a truth than to lie outright."
Glaring at Elrin, she adds "Also, we shouldn't let anyone else talk to him. Or even see his face, if we can help it. The less they know, the better for them."
Struck by a sudden inspiration, and observing that Brookside was still out of view, Mel says "Here, hold on a minute." She hauls the saddle blanket off him again. She studies his features a moment, and then goes to work. She musses his hair up so it covers his ears, and uses some strategically placed dirt to obscure his complexion and place strategic "shadows" to make his narrow, elven face seem a bit rounder. More human.
"There," she says. "It won't hold up to a close, careful inspection, but with any luck, he'll pass for human."
She frowns. "Also, we should gag him. We can tell people he's a spellcaster, and it's not safe to let him speak. Which is true, and conveniently keeps him from saying anything ... ill-advised."
The people of Brookside have many questions as they throng the gagged man. You repulse most of them with your prepared lines. But Lily Nolton approaches you more directly.
"What did you find? What's going on?"
Perrin sighs. His face is tired and sad, but more peaceful then it's looked in a long time. "We got them, Lily. We don't have all the answers we'd like, but we got the person who sent orcs to our town. It's over."
The Brooksiders seem about to riot but Perrin's calm manner brings their fervor back down. The halfling lady nods with sorrow in her eyes. "Best do it today, then. Thomas, get a strong rope."
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"The Bishop needs to know about this," Mel says. "And the Bishop's men might be able to get more information out of him. We should take him to Helm, and let the Bishop deal with him. It's hard to get answers out of a corpse."
Aye, hold on that rope, Thomas. We aren't convinced that Brookside was the only community that might be facing troubles, and if it's other towns here in the Bishopric, we need more folk to hear of this than just our own.
The people of Brookside look on somewhat uncertainly but they nod. They've come to trust the leaders who brought them through an all-out attack by an Orc warband. Thomas Nolton pauses as he was about to get a strong hempen rope and turns back at Vors' and Mel's words.
"Aye that sounds wise. I'll help take 'im wherever you want to go. Astin maybe? But I suggest we get him away from here as soon as possible. We could probably use another pair of eyes to keep a watch on this murderer while we travel too."
Thomas' recommendation of a hasty departure is backed up by the looks of deep hurt, betrayal, and uncomprehending anger the Brooksiders pour upon Elrin. Thomas readies himself to depart with Mel and Perrin to take the prisoner wherever he should go. He meets you on the edge of town on the road toward Astin and the rest of civilization.
Mel collects her gear from the smithy, and then rushes to catch Perrin before they hit the road. She finds him packing his bag in his office, the door flung wide. She steps in and closes it quietly behind her. "Perrin," she says quickly, "A quick word before we go?"
"Yeah?" Perrin looks up from his table, where that magic bag is laid open, now empty of water. He seems to be hastily packing his alchemy lab inside it, along with - for some reason - several of the more finely made weapons and armor they've scavanged from the orcs. "How can I help?"
"Listen -- maybe this doesn't need to be said, but be careful when we get to Helm. No, scratch that -- be careful as soon as we leave Brookside. Your secret needs to stay secret, or it'll probably cause a lot of problems."
She looks at him, hoping this nebulous, elliptical warning is clear.
Perrin nods thoughtfully. "Right. Thanks for the warning - I'll try to avoid speaking in tongues or waving that symbol around. So far you're the only one to figure out the source of my magic, but I guess we can't count on that continuing in the city."
He pauses, then decides to go on. "Speaking of magic... you've got some of your own, haven't you? And you don't need a symbol to do it. Anything I should know about?"
Kelian, Vors calls to his son, and the boy comes up quickly. You've been wanting to see more of the world, I know, and I can't imagine better company to send you in than Mel, Perrin, and Thomas. You'll help them in ways I just can't anymore. Go to the house, get a bag together, and your sword, then come meet me here.
Initially, the young man is confused, but then a gleam of excitement takes hold in his eye, and he sprints back to the house.
It's clear that Reinala isn't thrilled at the idea of her eldest hitting the road, but she simply crosses her arms and glares at Vors, clearly promising a fuller conversation later. For his part, Vors simply sighs and begins unstrapping the armor that he took from Halak. He puts it into a large sack, and hands it to Kelian when he comes back. I know you don't know how to use this yet, so don't try until you're ready. Get someone in Astin to teach you how, if you can find them.
Clapping his son on the shoulder, Vors smiles, and sheds a few tears at the parting. You'll do well, son. Just mind what Mel and Perrin tell you - they won't lead you astray.
To , he says, Thank you, friends. I can't leave the town now, of all times. Who knows what might appear next? Take care of my son, as you can, and teach him what you can. When you're done, bring him back, safely. We'll have crops to trade with Astin soon, if you can send a merchant our way.
Clasping hands with each of them, he simply says, Erastil bless your defense of our community, and Abadar help you seek justice. Fare well!
Mel hesitates a moment. The silence draws out ... and then she says "My magical talents are limited. I have precisely four spells, each of which I can manage just once per day." She ticks them off on her fingers.
"One: I can detect the magical signatures of enchanted objects or of people subject to magical effects, and usually determine the general type of magic involved; but I lack the training to discern their precise functions."
"Two: I can sense the presence of poison in a creature or an object; but I usually cannot determine the exact nature of the poison. Unlike you, I have never made a study of alchemy."
"Three: for about an hour, I can understand any spoken or written language, but not speak them myself."
"Four: If I encounter any magical writings, I can interpret them; but I have no ability to invoke any spells or powers I find contained therein."
She lowers her hand as she concludes. "All useful skills, with some limitations. Having so few, I have had ample time to practice them, and no longer need to speak or gesture my invocations. As they all affect me rather than anyone else, there is generally no sign that I am using one -- except that my eyes lose their color and go grey, I'm told."
She opens the door and turns to go. "Best finish packing -- we'll have to move quickly if we want to make Astin before nightfall."
And with that, she departs.
"Thank you, Vors. We'll send a merchant by if we can, and take good care of Kelian."
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Perrin stares after Mel curiously for a moment, then shrugs and goes back to packing.
When he's finished, he heads out to meet the others and wishes Vors a fond farewell. "If there's anyone I trust to keep this town safe, it's you." Then he turns to Mel and holds out two items: a fine elven cloak, and a pendant that matches the one around his own neck. "Here, for the journey. They're enchanted for protection, I found them on Ukar and... the other."
"Thank you," Mel says. She examines at the rough-woven cloak and the elegantly shaped amulet. "Would that such things were unnecessary," she says, a tinge of sorrow lowering the corners of her mouth. But she puts them on.
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Thomas smiles as you show up, ready to hit the road. "Well. It seems I'm becomin' quite the travelin' man. Didn't think I'd be travelin' to Astin and back again then immediately headin' somewhere else! But the town's in good hands." He smiles gratefully at the greying father who led the costly defense of the gate.
He then turns to the two of you "And Lily's happy to know I'm not alone this time. I'm in the capable hands of you two, who've proved the usefulness of your unusual talents. And I'm sure the young lad will prove to turn out as good a man as his father. I think I can take to the road with a smile this time."
He helps adjust the loads on the mules and strokes their long noses soothingly. Then, without even glancing at the bound elf, he encourages his mount forward.
As you ride off, you glance back over your shoulder. The people of Brookside are confused and hurt but the majority of them are alive and they know whom to thank for that. They wave as you ride slowly off. Perrin notes the bandages on some while Mel spots the first attempts at bowyering in the hands of others. Thanks to you, Brookside lives on.
You ride along on the road to Astin mostly in silence. Even the agreeable and cheerful Thomas has been sobered much by the recent events in Brookside. And Kelian is wise enough to be quiet as the older leaders are silent. After a while, you round a bend and can see Astin as you approach it.
Mel spends the trip to Astin silently brooding. Her face -- had she known it -- gave away far more of her inner turmoil than she might wish.
She does not share her thoughts with the others; but whatever they may be, they are not happy ones, and they render her expression uncharacteristically grim.
At the sight of Astin coming into view, her face lightens a bit. "Oh good," she says. "Anyone know where the inns are in Astin? I'm looking forward to a good night of sleep in a proper bed. Haven't had much of that lately. A bath would also be welcome."
She glances at their prisoner. "But first, we need to report in to the local authorities. With any luck, they can take custody of this käsikassara overnight, and arrange an escort the rest of the way to Helm. Maybe we can find that fellow who rode out to assist Brookside. Captain Hannady, I think? Thomas, you brought word here -- they'll know you. Where should we go?"
Astin is a medium-sized town of about 500 inhabitants that is a regional hub for crops, lumber, and other trade goods. As you ride donkeys through the hard-packed earth of the street, your gagged prisoner draws strange looks.
Thomas agrees to your plan. "Aye! I'll take us to the city watch's barracks." But Thomas doesn't make it quite that far before being accosted by some concerned members of the city guard.
Two men with spears approach you. "What's this? Why is this man bound and gagged?"
"Because he was involved in the recent attack on Brookside," Mel replies. "The gag is because he's a spellcaster, and a tricky one at that. We think he has information the Bishop will want to hear, fast. Could we speak with the guard commander, please? I believe that's Captain Hannady. We'll give him the details. We're hoping he can provide an escort the rest of the way to Helm."
Perrin nods vigorously. "It's really, really important. Captain Hannady already knows about the situation, and if you take us to him I'm sure he'll want to hear us out."
An expression of surprise and consternation spreads across the guards face. They nod sharply and begin leading you to the barracks. Most of the buildings in Astin are wooden but the barracks and nearby town hall are built from cut stone. As you walk, the older guard speaks up. "Heard about that nasty business at Brookside. A tragedy. And would have gone much worse if not for a few brave villagers." He nods respectfully at the three of you and eyes the gagged Elrin. But he seems convinced of the importance of what Mel said and doesn't ask any questions.
"One of ours was lost there, too. We all feel it." The man means well but really doesn't understand what Brookside has been through.
"We were extremely grateful to see the Astin guards riding in when they did," Mel replies grimly. "The orcs were through the gates and cutting people down with every blow. Our line was about to break when Captain Hannady pulled the orc warleader and his pet troll away. If he'd been even ten minutes later ..." She shudders.
"Even so, we lost ten people in the fight. Several more before that -- a few who were victims of orc scouts. And Cyrus Lem gave his life trying to rescue Goodman Higgins from the orc scouting party."
She strokes the neck of her tired mule, as much to comfort herself as anything.
Perrin bites his lip and looks down while Mel speaks. When she's finished, he adds softly, "Not a few brave villagers. A whole village full of them."
Then he clears his throat and looks up. "Have you heard of orc activity anywhere else, or any other news of concern? We're worried about the other towns, but news travels slowly to Brookside."
The guard winces somewhat at the descriptions of Brookside's losses. He shrugs at Perrin's question. "Orcs are always raiding near the coast. Hard to tell if it's any different. And we did hear of one other on a town a little ways away. Hard to tell if it's something new or just one of those times the Orcs get greedy."
He shrugs. Astin isn't the kind of place that other cities send reports to.
He then leads you inside the stone barracks to an office where Captain Hannady sits at a desk with various papers. The captain looks up in surprise at seeing you three again and the prisoner. "What's all this!?" He looks questioningly back and forth among everyone entering his office.
"Hello, Captain Hannady," Mel says. "You recall when we last spoke, and we were going looking for the spot where plains, forest, and river meet? Well, we found it. And we found him there too." She jerks her head towards Elrin.
"We'll tell you the full details, but it's probably best if your men wait outside while we talk. No disrespect -- it's just people can't pass on what they don't know, even by accident."
Captain Hannady eyes you appraisingly and decides you don't intend any harm to his person. He nods to the guard who steps outside and closes the door. Out of habit, the Captain pulls his chair back from his desk so that he could move if necessary. He nods to you "Tell away."
Speaking quietly, Mel recaps the chain of events that led them here.
"There were two orc tribes involved in the assault, led by Ukar and Gornak. We recovered correspondence from both of them -- and it was weirdly similar on both sides."
Mel pulls out translated copies of the letters, pointing out the similarities. "Ukar thought Gornak was organizing the raid. And Gornak thought it was Ukar. It was weird. And all of these letters were apparently delivered by animals from three different terrains: forest, plains, and water. So we went looking -- swept along the river bank until we found a spot that matched."
She looks pointedly at Elrin. "That's where we found him, holed up in a small cave in the side of a low hill. He tried his best to slip away -- used magic to summon up illusions of orcs, and to disguise himself as an orc; but we managed finally to capture him. He says his name is Elrin Weh. He's an elf ... and he's apparently an agent of the elven council. We found this on his person."
She pulls out the map. "Look here -- it's a plan for troop deployments. Elrin's job was to provoke an attack on Brookside by orc tribes. Then, after Brookside got wiped out, these battalions of elven soldiers, here," she points at the map, "Would have an excuse to sweep into the south western reaches of the Bishopric to 'come to the aid of their neighbors'. As far as we can work out, the whole thing was just a ploy to pre-position some elven troops for a war with Iustia."
"So basically, we've captured an agent of a foreign power who was trying to engineer an occupation of Bishopric lands in preparation for a larger war. The Bishop needs to know. And it needs to stay quiet, so that the Bishop won't lose any options for how to handle it. We want to take Elrin there to the Bishop. Personally I think he should be executed as a mass murderer for organizing that raid -- but the Bishop may need to know what he knows. If possible, we'd like an escort the rest of the way to Helm, both to help keep an eye on him and so that we can get him to the Bishop quickly and quietly."
Hannady watches you with steady gray eyes as you describe your findings. He looks briefly at your documentation but focuses on you. When you're done, he nods gravely.
"This is extremely serious. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. But before I move further with this, I need to hear from him." He nods toward the gagged Elrin.
Perrin looks dubious but gives a halfhearted nod of assent. "I guess that's only fair. But hold on, let's make sure it's safe." He checks the ropes binding Elrin's hands and confirms that he has no spell components tucked away, then stands back with his eyes focused directly on the elf's.
"And don't trust a word he says - this man played all of us for fools." He waits for Mel or Hannady to remove the gag.
"Of course," Mel nods. "I would think less of you if you didn't speak with him. Also, should you need to, Vors Falchen and Hirda of Kirin helped capture him -- you can speak with them as well if you wish, though they didn't come with us today."
Once Perrin has secured Elrin, she removes the gag, tension writ in the lines of her body as she waits to hear whatever pile of lies Elrin has dreamed up in the meantime.
Elrin works his jaw a couple of times after the gag is removed then licks his lips and clears his throat. He bows to Captain Hannady "Thank you, sir. I have found my captivity with these... vigilantes... quite unpleasant. I understand that they have been through a tragedy and are looking for somewhere to place the blame. But they have no evidence linking me to this horrible assault of marauding orcs. The orc communiques are confusing when translated poorly, that is all. I was on an unrelated mission for the Elven council. I implore you to release me and place an information request with the embassy in order to maintain good relations between our two nations."
Hannady looks hard at Elrin and then with some doubt at the two of you. He rubs his forehead and sighs
"It does seem rather circumstantial... But this map is very troubling..."
From a table at the side of the room, Mel picks up a pitcher and a glass. She pours some water in the cup, and holds it to Elrin's dry lips to sip. He hesitates a moment, calculating, but thirst wins out. Since his hands are bound, Mel holds the glass for him until he finishes drinking.
She sets it aside.
"Captain Hannady," she says, "Either Elrin is lying, or we are. Fortunately, you do not need to decide which of us to trust: you need only trust the Bishop. Unless I miss my guess, the Bishop has access to magic that can discern lies from truth. Even if the Bishop cannot do so unaided, the Bishopric as a whole certainly has loyal servants who can. Send us on to Helm with an escort who can ensure Elrin is treated well, that he does not escape, and that we all get there as swiftly as possible. I will even volunteer to be bound and gagged as he is, should you deem it necessary."
She shrugs. "Beyond that, all I can say is that any way you look at it, the matter is of grave import to multiple nations. Send us to Helm: trust your Bishop to make the right choice."
Hannady nods. "That is certainly true. Decisions like this don't happen in Astin. I'm sending all of you to Helm where the Bishop can do what he thinks is best. Which means all of you will be in protective custody. None of you will be bound but I must insist that the escort hold onto any weapons or magical materials. I'll come myself to assure that everyone involved is treated fairly. Will that serve?"
He looks at you and Elrin.
Elrin bows graciously. "It is unfortunate, Captain Hannady, that doubt must be cast on the goodwill between our two states but I must submit to your judgment."
He eyes Mel spitefully for a moment, weighing his options. "Might I point out that this female who accuses me of a dastardly elven plot is hiding her own identity as an elf. She is certainly not authorized to be acting here in any manner and I cannot guess what game she is playing."
Perrin smiles pleasantly at Elrin's accusation, as though he doesn't understand its severity. "Of course Mel's an elf. That's why she curses in Elven when she gets upset, why her eyes sometimes fade to grey, why she tells stories about growing up the better part of a century ago."
He reaches swiftly down to his belt pouch as though about to draw a weapon, but instead he just starts undoing the strap. "It's just... not that big a deal. It's not what race you are or what land you're from or what god you worship that matters. It's whether you help people or hurt them." He flashes Mel a slight smile. "Mel helps." He glares at Elrin. "You hurt."
He finishes taking off the pouch and hands it to Captain Hannady. "Try to be careful with that, by the way. Some of the reagents do have a slight tendency to, um, explode."
Mel laughs ruefully. "Yeah, I guess I blew my cover pretty thoroughly for anyone who was paying attention, didn't I?"
She stands a bit straighter, and pulls her red scarf off to reveal her pointed ears. She shakes her hair out. "Yes, I'm an elf. In fact, one moment ..." She rummages around in her belt pouch for a moment and produces a leather wallet, which she hands to Captain Hannady.
He flips it open to reveal a piece of parchment sewn into the leather. "Student ID: University of Etsi Paljon," he reads aloud. "Name of Mel ... melly ..."
"Melira Elenariel," Mel supplies.
"Thank you," he says, and continues reading. "Graduate student in anthropology. Dissertation advisor, Professor Galedir Limben. The bearer is entitled to check out up to seven books from the University Library." He riffles through the wallet a little further. "And a passport, with border stamps for the elven lands, Iustia, and the Bishopric."
He looks up. "None of which explains why you're masquerading as a human, young woman," he says sternly, either having forgotten or not fully realized yet that Mel is at least a century older than he is.
"It was part of my research," Mel says. "I'm working on my dissertation. I wanted to study how the stories parents choose to tell their children influence the kind of people those children grow up to be. That's hard to study with elves -- we grow too slowly. And I've always been fascinated by the shorter-lived peoples anwyay. So I came to Brookside for a ten-year observational study to base my dissertation on. Professor Limben insisted that I disguise myself, on the grounds that if people knew I was an elf, they would act differently around me than if I was just another human -- which would spoil the data I was trying to collect."
She sighs. "He's probably right, but it made it awfully hard to get to know people," she goes on. "And the scarf makes my ears itch."
"Why did you travel to Iustia first?" he asks.
"Partly to practice my disguise before I got to Brookside proper, but also just because I was curious to see as much as I could while I was out and about," she replies. "I worked my way from the Livista -- that's where the university is, in the northwest conclave -- all the way here, taking any odd job that came my way. It took about six months; I took my time. And I didn't get very far north, just a long slow loop through the southern reaches of Iustia."
The captain falls silent for a moment, apparently thinking.
Hannady rubs his eyes and massages his greying temples. He mutters under his breath "'Take the job in Astin' they said. 'Nothing ever happens in Astin' they said."
He looks up at Mel. "So what is your motivation here, Melira. Why would you turn in an operative of the Elven Council, if what you're saying is true."
"Because I care about justice! He's a mass murderer. He engineered the assault on Brookside -- he is directly responsible for everything that resulted from that: the deaths of Noln, Lem, Allen and Abigail Dorner, Silas Tollin, Strisgar, Sendal, and Orgel. Silas Tollin. Jonathan Golightly. Cyrus Lem. Goodman Higgins. All the grievous wounds they suffered -- Alexandra Higgins came very close to death, and I doubt her arm will ever work quite the same again."
"The elven council -- my council -- sent him to do that. All so they would have an excuse to move some troops around without asking permission. It's a textbook case of elvendom at its worst: arrogantly assuming that our long lives make us better than everyone else, that we can just casually manipulate the lives of shorter-lived folk to suit us." She does not actually spit on the floor, but her lip curls as if she very much wants to.
"What then of justice? We are all the gods' children, something that my government appears to have forgotten. If I were to send this käsikassara back to the council, he'd get away with it. The worst he'd get is a dressing down because the plan didn't work. So that left me two options: see to his punishment myself, or hand him over to human justice."
She crosses her arms and shoots a look full of daggers at Elrin. "No doubt the others will tell you that I argued strenuously for executing him on the spot. The only reason he's alive right now is Vors Falchen talked me out of it."
Elrin shrugs and holds up his hands as Hannady unties him. "How am I the defend myself against the passionate, unproven assertions of this person known to indulge in deception and trickery?"
Hannady grunts and shakes his head. "That's not for me to decide, sir. That's why you're all heading to the Bishop."
Having secured Elrin and Perrin, he holds out his hands for Mel's bow and any other weapons.