You use Malaswyn's holy magic to return to Providence and spend the night there.
When you ask her about comings and goings and suspicious activities, she provides little help, confirming the comings and goings of courriers, but nothing more helpful.
But then she adds: "Well, then there's tonight. Out of nowhere, the King has asked for a hundred meals to be prepared. A hundred meals! Dinner first, then breakfast before dawn! All of us are working all night on this, and the other cooks as well. And they're not exactly here, we've been told. Whoever these guys are, the food will be brought to them by some of the King's men, soon as it is ready... I guess that's unusual, yes?"
You disappear in the night. Soon enough, a large wagon pulls up and get filled by servants overseen by soldiers. Soon they are joined by a tired looking Nunzio and depart.
You easily follow them, as once they leave the grounds, they no longer make efforts to remain silent. After an hour, they reach a low hill and the mouth of a cave.
Marcel slips into the cave unnoticed. Behind him, the soldiers start unloading the boxes, with Nunzio guiding them to leave the crates of food by the mouth of the cave. Nunzio appears nervous and impatient, eager to leave, from his voice.
As you make your way down the cave, you can make a broadened area ahead, a chamber of sorts, lit by a fireplace. You can make voices, humanoid likely; several people.
But then, all of a sudden, the chamber ahead gets eerily silent.
As soon as he settles, a group of humanoids emerge, led by a mean-looking Ratfolk woth a massive bow. He argues with Nunzio, who assures him no one has stepped in the cave, as agreed. The Ratfolk replies: "Right then, we'll get the food in and feed the troops. We need to be at the Tournament before dawn..." Nunzio scolds him then, telling him his mouth is too loose. The Ratfolk shrugs and returns in the cave. Four Pitaxian soldiers then come out and carry the food inside.
Soon, all goes quiet again and Nunzio and his henchmen make their way back to the tournament grounds.
With the exception of the ratfolk, the others were hidden by their armour, but looked and moved like humans.
You manage to sleep four hours before dawn clears the sky. As you make your way to the Frielanders' tent, you see from afar fifty men or so, all clad in armour, likey the ones you saw in the cave. They all seem to be waiting for the Duke and his retinue to arrive...
No one has spotted you, but you don't see the ratfolk. However, you see Irovetti present, with Nunzio, along with what looks like an Aldori high noble.
Settling on a plan, he moves toward the kitchen tent. He slips in and finds where Arinetta is working at getting breakfast ready for the day. "Get your people out of here, first sign of trouble. No questions." Then he moves outside to the back of the kitchen tent, into a spot out of sight amongst the supplies. Quickly locating a barrel of cooking oil, he uses a dagger to pry out the fill plug. He then cuts several small pieces of canvas, two he soaks in the oil, the final one he stuffs into the hole in the barrel.
Timing was everything, he had to have this going in time to get to the Frieland tent, for a quick search just before the Duke arrived.
The smoke and fire spreads quickly, drawing the attention of all gathered around the tent, which offers you the perfect opportunity to approach and slip inside.
However, Irovetti signals only ten men, along with Nunzio, to go out and coordinate the servants and the other tournament workers in controlling the flames. It seems as though Nunzio has some proficiency with arcane casting as he directs the workers and helps dousing the flames.
The rest, though distracted, remain in front of the tent.
Inside the tent, you see three servants getting the table ready for breakfast. After the night you've had, the smell and the look of the food is just so tempting...
Then, you feel the familiar tingling, a stirring of the air, telling you your friends are teleporting.
One of the servants has felt it too, and moves towards the entrance of the tent...
Marcel moves like lightning, cutting off the servant before he can get to the opening, drawing a dagger in the process. He grabs the servant by the collar with his left hand, and with his right, presses the dagger against the man's ribs. "Going somewhere? Say quiet, and you might live through this..." his face is blank behind his balaclava, but Marcel's eyes are those of a killer.
Marcel moves like lightning and intercepts the servant, just as the rest of the Frielanders teleport in the tent, ready for a nice breakfast.
Malaswyn immediately draws his scimitar, "Marcel?"
"Irovetti and Nunzio are waiting for for us outside with fifty armed men. These were troops that were hidden in a nearby cave until this morning." And Marcel quickly relates the story of the food convoy, the encounter in the cave, the big Ratfolk, the fire and this servant.
"I may or may not be paranoid and played into Irovetti's hands, but my gut tells me the time for peace has passed."
He looks at Kalsgrim. "I distinctly remember talking about the River Freedoms and the danger we were in coming to Pitaxian soil. I hate being right."
"Irovetti and Nunzio are waiting for for us outside with fifty armed men. These were troops that were hidden in a nearby cave until this morning." And Marcel quickly relates the story of the food convoy, the encounter in the cave, the big Ratfolk, the fire and this servant.
"I may or may not be paranoid and played into Irovetti's hands, but my gut tells me the time for peace has passed."
He looks at Kalsgrim. "I distinctly remember talking about the River Freedoms and the danger we were in coming to Pitaxian soil. I hate being right."
Malaswyn frowns, "Shall we leave immediately? Or is there anything we can achieve here?"
He nods at the servant, "A spy?"
"I'm no spy, but a humble servant. Sir Nunzio just asked to know immediately once you've arrived! Don't kill me, please!" the servant says with a high pitched voice.
It seems he's been heard though, as you hear a familiar voice say, from outside the tent: "Duke, is that you? This is Jamandi of the Aldori. It seems we'd better talk..."
Malaswyn raises an eyebrow and looks to Kalsgrim.
'...Jamandi? Here? How is it she didn't make herself known before all of this? And how did Marcel miss her presence?...' Marcel thinks to himself, suddenly concerned he may have started an international incident.
"Do any of you remember seeing our closest ally ever...at all...while we've been here at the Festival? Because I have my doubts as to why she would suddenly appear here at this very moment. More importantly, would our ally have to add she was 'of the Aldori', I'd think she would know we'd know who she was."
"Irovetti and Nunzio are waiting for for us outside with fifty armed men. These were troops that were hidden in a nearby cave until this morning." And Marcel quickly relates the story of the food convoy, the encounter in the cave, the big Ratfolk, the fire and this servant.
"I may or may not be paranoid and played into Irovetti's hands, but my gut tells me the time for peace has passed."
He looks at Kalsgrim. "I distinctly remember talking about the River Freedoms and the danger we were in coming to Pitaxian soil. I hate being right."
Kriger narrows his eyes and a maniacal grin forms. "HA-HA! Excellent! You're sure there's only fifty? Kinda light if you ask me, but, whatever. They all die the same," he says as he grabs his axe and tests the edge, cutting himself. Nodding triumphantly, "Oh yeah, she's still sharp. Just say the word, Chief. Just say the word."
"I'm no spy, but a humble servant. Sir Nunzio just asked to know immediately once you've arrived! Don't kill me, please!" the servant says with a high pitched voice.
It seems he's been heard though, as you hear a familiar voice say, from outside the tent: "Duke, is that you? This is Jamandi of the Aldori. It seems we'd better talk..."
Kriger walks over to the pipsqueak, grabs his face and then shoves him aside. "We're not going to kill you. Well, as long as you don't get in our way we won't. Beat it, pipsqueak. And if Nunzio ask if we're here, tell him the truth. Tell him we're here. Because if you don't he's going to know it and then he'll kill you for lying. So I'm trying to help you stay alive. And when you do tell him, tell him we ain't going anywhere. As a matter of fact, tell him we'll be coming to see him real soon. Yeah, I think that's about right." He then looks toward the outer covering of the tent and calls out, "Come on in, Jamandi, we're in here." Kriger gets a firm grip upon his axe just in case this is some kind of trick.
"We should leave, ally or not. Remaining here simply places you in further danger Duke."
Oberlin said, uneasy at being in enemy territory.
Oberlin muttered a few short words, his fingers making circular motions over his eyes, then as he touched his open eyes there was a chime, and his eyes shone with a cool golden radiance.
Oberlin scanned the room, looking for anything out of place, then turned back to the tent flap, waiting for the visitor.
Malaswyn nods in approval of Oberlin’s actions and makes a prayer to the Everlight.
Malaswyn nods, "Stay close. Say the word and we will return to Frieland, just as we have done these last nights."
Jamandi steps into the tent: "Is that you Kriger? Easy on the axe, yes? I come in peace..." the Aldori says with a smile, but the smile quickly fades.
"Look, King Irovetti asked me here as witness and to mediate perhaps. He is intent on arresting you for the sequestering of Baron Drelev's children..."
Relaxing his grip a bit, Kriger acquires a look that easily speaks of his level of annoyance toward the news. "Arrest us?! He better bring an army to do it then because we will NOT be going quietly. I don't know who he thinks he is but if dares try to take us in he better get ready for an axe to be buried in his skull," he states quite confidently, irritated mightily at the thought of being arrested.
Malaswyn sighs wearily, "Hello, Jamandi. We have not met but the Duke," he nods to Kalsgrim, "speaks highly of you. I am sorry that you have been dragged into this."
He gestures toward the outside, "Baron Drelev attacked us when we sought parley, despite his children being present and vulnerable. His own wizard cast the spell that killed them." The elf glances toward the heavens, "With Sarenrae's aid, I brought the Baron's children back from the dead. They did not deserve to die for their father's crimes."
The cleric brings his gave back to Jamandi's, his tone is stern, "We had spared the baroness and promised to revive her children. We made no threats upon her life. Again, Drelev paid for his crimes himself. She fled into the wild and made no attempt to contact her children, raised as wards under 's tutelage."
"And when we offered to arrange a reunion with her offspring, she demanded that we teleport them to her that very moment. When we suggested a more reasonable arrangement, she cried foul."
A bitter edge creeps into Malaswyn's voice, "This is all a pretext for war. Irovetti has goaded and provoked at every turn. Our approach - plain, honest and fair dealing - he has attempted to turn against us."
"The Aldori have been in politics for for longer than any of us. Put yourself in our position. Tell us, what would you do?"
Jamandi nods gravely at Malaswyn's retelling, then he looks at Kalsgrim expectantly.
Jamandi listens carefully, then sighs: "This is perhaps the truth, and I've come to see you as trustworthy and just leaders. However, Irovetti is king in Pitax, and his word is law. Now, he has asked me here to mediate with you, in the hope that he doesn't have to arrest you and charge you. He wishes to avoid a lengthy trial, but he is adamant in his endeavour, that I can feel from him."
He's also asked me to act as a neutral witness, should you refuse to seek a negotiated agreement. I would stay and observe the trial and report to surrounding kingdoms of everyone's willingness to cooperate and act lawfully."
He gives Kriger a smile and "The way I see it, you have a few options: You can fight, you can flee, you can surrender the children under guaranties provided by King Irovetti, or you can face trial. As a friend, I can tell you that the surrounding kingdoms will take note of your actions today..."
"But again, if, as you claim, more is afoot, then perhaps my advice is not advice. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, that's for sure. I got my own..."
'...courts are for kings...' Marcel mutters under his breath.
"We are in grave danger here. As Lord Jamandi has said, here in Pitax Irovetti's word is law. Whatever law he wants it to be."
He turns to Kalsgrim. "If you are certain about not giving up the children, then we should leave now and prepare for war. Should we prevail, history will judge us in the right."
"And just for the record, this 'Lady Drelev' or whoever she is should be dead. I saw her JUMP from the top balcony. No way she could've survived that. And when we went and looked for her, she was gone. Not a trace of anything of where she landed. Personally, I don't think she is who she says she is. It's either that or she's hiding something. I've got all kinds of bad feelings about that one," he says, nodding emphatically.
Kriger narrows his eyes as he angles his head in thought, looking off to the side. After a moment, he subtly cuts his eyes toward the others before saying, "Anyway, you might want to tell Irovetti that he doesn't want to push this. Or we'll give him a war he won't believe. He can't even begin to know what we're capable of," he says before looking around at the others and shrugging. "I'm just sayin' that we'll do whatever we have to to protect our land and our people. You know, for the greater good and all that type business."
Kriger grins wryly at Kalsgrim's words. Irovetti better do the smart thing. Of course I hope he doesn't. That would be absolute greatness.
Jamandi nods gravely: "You still have the trust and political support of the Swordlords, Duke Kalsgrim. That being said, Irovetti's claims, whether or not they are of substance, still hold weight and force us to remain more or less on the sidelines, as long as they remain unsettled. His way is by pressing charges, which you say is a facade hiding his war preparations. If so, then your decision to withdraw instead of accepting to face trial seems justified."
"But it does mean war is coming to Frieland, and Irovetti will have just cause to wage war on you, at least in the eyes of the other River Kingdoms. No one will come to your help..."
He seems quite pensive, then he adds with a sly smile: "At least officially."
Oberlin frowns. Inwardly cursing all the lives to be lost if this does come to war.
Tactics are for another time. I don't see any way out of this quandary. I certainly hope that Irovetti hasn't concocted some way of interfering with my teleportation spells. the thought makes him concerned for a moment, before he glances at his companions and feels slightly more at ease.
Forewarned is forearmed. All I need to do is let my companions know about the possibility, and they will be prepared.
"He has every right." Marcel admonishes Kaslgrim, maybe a bit brusquely. "The Third River Freedom. I've only been talking about it since we were invited to this farce of a festival. We are within his lands, he has whatever rights he deems appropriate. Just as you do within Frieland's borders."
He nods toward Jamandi. "The Swordlords know this, as do the rest of the Kingdoms. But having the right doesn't mean he can make it stick if he doesn't have the strength. But we need to leave Pitaxian soil now."
"Very well, gather round."
Malaswyn gestures to his allies.
"Jamandi, would you like to accompany us?"
Jamandi smiles and nods no.