Daidalos narrows his gaze, looking into the man's panicked eyes "I believe you. You don't know about the conspiracy. But there is one, we know that for sure. Just two days ago, we intercepted a pack of the beasts. After... questioning, they said they were going to rendezvous with your patrol. Hence our reception. Which of the captains would they send out looking for you? Also, would they send out a raven for reinforcements if they did so? Excuse me for a moment, I need to discuss something with my companions."
He walks a little ways away (but not so far away as to not keep an eye on Loethyn), signaling for the rest of the Knot to join him, "So, that's information. It means that when we get back to Aldencross, we need to work quickly. I still think we need to exploit Eddarly's affair. Affyria, could you put Kiffex on that? Ideally, we could take out him by exposing him, then either Barhold or Mott would lead the patrol looking for them, at which point we move in and take down the watchtower. Or does anyone have another idea?"
The man winces is pain as he tries to answer. ”Please, I’m trying to help, but I don’t know anything. It could be Eddarly or Mott, but up to the Lord. Probably Eddarly. But yes, if we’re expecting bugbears, we’d call for reinforcements. But I’m telling you the truth sir. We ain’t seen nothing, an’ it’s our job! Please sir, this is all a terrible mistake. Captain Varning would never do what you say. Why, they say if that we’re true, he couldn’t enter the chapel, but he prayers there all the time, he does. Or... did.”
He gulps as he looks at Timo and Varning’s corpse.
Daidalos nods, looking into the man's eyes, "It's okay. I believe you. It's a terrible situation, after all. What if you weren't expecting bugbears, but the patrol just came back late? Does that happen often? Or would it immediately be a signal that something is wrong? Again, I apologize for my companions," Daidalos shifts to block Loethyn's view of his captain's corpse, "So those with evil intent can't enter the chapel? Interesting. Why is that, and are there any of the watchtower that never go to the chapel? I promise, this will all be over soon. It's just that any information we get will reduce bloodshed."
The hulking feral form of Asturu squats down and eyes the severely injured soldier as he talks to Daidalos. In his mind, Asturu is trying to figure out how to surprise the soldier so that he neither see nor feel his end.
He shakes his head. ”No, our patrols range for about a week. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. But too long... yes, they’d send our scouts. The chapel...you don’t know? The choir. They can sense what’s in your heart. A black heart can’t go in without being revealed.”
When you were brought before Thorn, it was as if everything had fallen into place. A way to take a position you deserved by merit, not accident of your birth. One irrespective of the humans' racism. One unfettered by your family's past association with the Barcans.
Thorn was liberal with his praise and knowledge but also with punishment and wrath for failure. While personal visits and lessons with him were few, they were always very productive and frequently punctuated with a new gift of knowledge or skill. By the end of it, he'd molded you into a weapon of the Dark Father's laws.
Eventually, you caught the eye of a client. A human with a peculiar accent but who spoke your native tongue as well as a few others. Outwardly, he was an unassuming figure but the more time you spent around him, employed as a bodyguard, the more you realized was going on beneath the surface. He moved from one location to another along the western coast, identifying mercenary companies and building contacts, paying retainers to the companies without actually hiring their services. While the work was mostly dull, there was one deal that went bad when the mercenaries he was trying to contact turned out to be nothing more than a band of brigands looking to steal his gold. This was when two things happened. First, you realized your client was far more deadly than he let on as he killed more than his fair share of the brigands. Second, your skill in a fight was finally put on display for him to see.
A week later, while sailing down the coast, he called you into his cabin. "Raven, I have a proposition for you. My employer is a man of considerable means and ambitions. He is not of Avistan nor Garund but rather lives on an large island west of here. He is in need of agents who can see his will made shape. He is not an easy man; he demands and expects the best. But he rewards success lavishly. There would be certain... conditions you must agree to, but none that are too onerous or much beyond a standard mercenary contract."
And thus began your relationship with Thorn. A few days later, you were on another ship bound for Talingarde where you would be smuggled ashore and introduced to a man who called himself Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. Assisting him was a woman named Tiadora who gave you additional training and skills. The experience was hard and painful, but always with purpose. A few things were made clear. Thorn was neither bothered nor impressed by your 'condition', it was immaterial to him as long as you performed your duties. He demanded unwavering fealty and any reticince or backtalk was dealt with viciously. And, finally, he and Tiadora had much to teach you. By the end of it, you were far more deadly and skilled than you had been.
At the end of your training, you were sent up to Ghastenhall and from there directed north towards Balentyne and Aldencross. Your instructions were to meet with another group of Thorn's agents called the Ninth Knot and join them in their assignment.
By the end of it, Thorn had Tiadora take you away from the manor. She teleported you directly into a massive fortress. You couldn't be sure, but the few times you caught a glimpse of the world outside, you thought you were on a coastline in the savage north for all you saw was ice, snow and water crashing into frozen shoreline.
There you were put under the command of Marcel Wolfram, a hulking armored brute of a man who was Thorn's personal bodyguard. Marcel was an anti-paladin of extraordinary power and he continued your training over the following month, nearly breaking you.
There were few other occupants of the fortress. There were graveknight guardians, fallen knights who served Thorn in undeath, bitter and angry and loathing you for your living condition yet bound to serve you as an agent of Thorn and Asmodeus. Then there was Grigori Sherkov, an old man yet powerful necromancer. He had little time or patience for you and, while his physical form was contemptible, dark magic seemed to radiate from him and his mere gaze sent a shiver down even your spine. You had no doubt: you were, by far, the least of Thorn's servants in this place. But the opportunities for knowledge and power were abundant.
Finally, Tiadora returned. "Ah, Morthos... my dearest. I feel like we're at Balentyne all over again, though you're looking much more like a proper servant of our Dark Father now." Despite the playful words, her affect is cold and a little demeaning. "Anyway, it's time. Cardinal Thorn has need of your services. He's sending you to Aldencross to assist re-join your fellow escapees as part of the Ninth Knot. I'll take you to Ghastenhall where you will join two others. From there, the three of you will travel north to Aldencross and meet the Ninth."
With little further discussion, she reaches out to touch you and, in the blink of an eye, you're in Ghastenhall.
Two of you sail to Ghastenhall while the third is teleported there by Tiadora. From there, you're able to procure horses and begin the journey north to Aldencross.
The pale elf rides along beside his new companions, such as they are, red eyes at least partially hidden within the shadows of his black cloak's hood examining them intently. A human and a half-elf, both with rather interesting and distinguishing physical features, not that he is one to speak. Strongly built, he has little doubt as to their martial prowess; anything less and they would not have been chosen by the Cardinal, after all.
"Hmphh..." The small sound as his thoughts drift to Adrastus Thorn and an expression of mild distaste, gone almost as soon as it appeared on his face, are quite indicative of his feelings towards the man. Although he cannot deny that he could very well be dead -well, deader, he corrects himself with a thin smile- if it had not been for the human, he cannot also deny that there is something about that one that simply does not agree with the elf. He sighs then, chasing such thoughts from his mind. Such is his lot now, he may as well start accepting it.
His eyes and thoughts turn once again to his fellow riders. Yes, strongly built, but no mere warriors are they, that much he is willing to wager. There is more to them than simple strength of arms and skill with a sword. Something... intangible.
"How about I break this silence first, yes?" His voice is soft, his tone conversational, even friendly. "Since our destination and cause are one and the same, we may as well introduce ourselves. Now, Ordywyt I do know, or at least his name, since we shared a ship to Ghastenhall." He looks at the half-elf with a crooked smile. "I am Raevanis, Raevanis Dwin'Alir, though I am as often called Raven. Shorter, simpler, sometimes easier on... non-elven tongues."
As they ride along, the pale man with hair as white as the moon and eyes to match, looks over toward the dark-cloaked figure nonchalantly with a raised eyebrow, a look of confidence about him. After studying him and the half-elf a moment, he returns his attention to the road ahead. "I am Morthos," he simply responds.
Keeping to himself as they travel, after a while Morthos looks over at the others once again, this time with a look of curiosity. "How did you find yourselves in the services of Thorn?"
"And I am Ordywyt." The half-elf speaks last, as if learning another's name before they learn his is a victory in its own right.
To Morthos' question, he responds bluntly. "Thorn saved my life, both physically and spiritually. But it is not that debt that leads me to serve him. He is a just leader, both kind in gift and harsh in punishment. Because of that, I am more than willing to follow him, an extension of the Lord of Hell's will."
Ordywyt looks over the two men, gauging their worth. While he would never question the Cardinal's decisions, it was always good to know their strength and loyalty.
"May I ask you the same question, Morthos?"
The ranger anxiously waits for another question, the next interrogation, the next piece of unbelievable news when he suddenly groans and collapses, frothy blood coming from his lips and then... nothing. He has succumbed to his wounds.
Shrugging, "It was he who arranged my freedom from Branderscar. For that, I am in his debt. But Thorn is Thorn. While he has served a great purpose by leading us on the proper path, in the grand scheme of it all, he is but a... how would one put it... 'a cog in the wheel'. We are destined for far greater things than what Thorn can give us, I assure you, Ordywyt, he just so happened to be a necessary part of it. We just need to remain ever on the lookout for it. For when the time comes, that 'destiny' I speak of will be ours for the taking," he states with a tone of absolute confidence.
"Ah, yes, destinies," Raven remarks, perhaps a bit drily. "Funny thing about those, I find they can be highly... subjective. Take me, for example. Had you asked me a couple of decades ago or three, I would not have expected that my future, my... destiny included men like you. Certainly not men like the Cardinal, or at the very least I would never have expected to be on the same side with one such as he." The raven-haired elf smiles somewhat mirthlessly. "Let us hope Thorn does not also have a Destiny," he continues -the capitalized D can almost be heard- and chuckles softly, "and especially one that does not clash with yours, or ours for that matter, not any time soon at least. He did not strike me as a... cog particularly easy to remove, or even loosen."
As the man dies to his wounds, Timo sighs and sheathes his blade before rising. "A pity ... I would have loved to see the fear in his eyes as I brought my blade upon him." He then turns to his compatriots. "Shall we make our leave of this place and return to the city? I say we ransack the camp and leave their corpses to the crows."
"Subjective only to those who don't believe, Raven, but in time you shall see. But I can tell you that whatever Thorn's destiny is, if it just so happens to interfere with ours, then he will have to be removed... easy or not. But that is for another time and place. Now we have our mission in front of us and we shall succeed. Which brings us one step closer...," he trails off in thought a moment before, "One small step, Raven, one small step at a time. And we all know what happens with each step... eventually it shall lead us to our destination," he concludes with an obvious gleam in his eye.
Back at the Rock and encampment, the Ninth Knot burns the bodies and bury whatever remains. They then return to Aldrencross to contemplate next steps. It's now been about one and a half weeks since they left the company of Sakkarot Fire-Axe. Tiadora is waiting for them, sipping a glass of wine at the common room at the Inn. Despite her physical beauty, all the other patrons keep their distance from her... a phenomena she seems to relish. She looks up with a smile, "Ah, there you are, my darlings. You must be parched. Come, sit." She glances at the innkeeper and water and wine are brought over along with bread, butter and salt.
Quieter, she continues, "Our benefactor has shuffled his assets around in order to ensure success. Three more ride north to join you, including our old friend Morthos. It should go without saying, failure is not an option." Without waiting for a response, she tosses a platinum piece on the table, leaves her glass of wine and walks out.
Meanwhile, from south of Aldencross come a trio of riders. They're able to stable their horses and make their way to the Lord's Dalliance Inn, where they'd been instructed to meet the rest of the Ninth Knot. As they approach, a ravishing blonde in a dress more suited for a Mathryn ball than the bucolic pastures of northern Talingarde comes down the street and smiles at them. "Oh, my dears!" She beams, walks up to Morthos where she gives him a kiss, full on the lips, then smiles and nods to Raven and Ordywrt. Despite the disguises you may be wearing, it's as if she sees right through them.
"And you, too. My, it's like a family reunion. The rest of your party is in the Inn, fresh off the trail. They can get you up to date on the local gossip. Just remember... time is ticking and our friend down south is watching." Her tone and her eyes convey a subtle warning and, just as suddenly as she appeared, she is walking down the street and around a corner.
Nodding, he watches her leave. Just as I remember. Exquisite in every way, yet, powerful at the same time. Makes one wonder is it Thorn we should fear... or her. Fascinating creature whoever - or possibly whatever - she may be. The wryest of grins form as he she turns the corner and vanishes. Turning to the others, "Follow me, I know of this group she speaks of."
As he walks inside, he looks around for the others and catches sight of them. Glancing around at the other patrons, he smiles and nods real friendly like as he makes his way to the table of where the others are. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friends. Miss me? Have you folks missed ol' Terrick? Wait... don't answer that because I know you have," he says with a grin and a wink, giving a slap on the back to Daidalos. "Brought a couple of friends with me. This here's... um... Rafael! That's right, almost forgot," he motions to Raven, not wanting to give his real name, "and this here's Orin. So, what's been happening with the lot of you? Anything fun and exciting?" the antipaladin asks, obviously with a demeanor that is a far cry from his 'non-disguised' self, as he takes a chair, flips it around, sits down, and rests his arms on the back of it. Looking over at the two that rode with him, "Grab a seat, fellas, no since in standing," he says with a grin before looking back to the others, his moon white eyes an obvious tell tell sign of who lies behind the facade before he reverts them back to brown, the color he has been using.
Timo eyes the newcomers warily. "Who are these fools. I know no one by the name of Terrick and I have no patience for..." Timo then catches the man's eyes flick to white and a grin flashes across Timo's face as he mouths "Morthos?" He then stands and claps the man around the arm. "I have indeed missed you old friend. The trouble we got into back at ole B are the things legends are told of. I for one cannot wait to get back into some more and it will be nice to have someone around again who isn't yammering about magic." Timo then retakes his seat gesturing to the empty seats around the table before eyeing the two other newcomers, obviously sizing them up.
"So now Rafael and Orin is it?" Timo begins, it obvious he doesn't believe for a second those are your real names. "Who might you be?"
Ordywyt takes a seat next to Morthos, his disguise that of a blond haired peasant. His eyes flicker over each member of the Knot before he speaks. "You may call me Ordywyt. I have heard of your escapades, and I must say it is a pleasure to meet you all." While his expression shows no such respect, he still extends his hand in greeting.
After her work on the corpses, Affyria uses some cantrips to clean the mess off her mace, before regarding the animals. "Even though I take no pleasure in this, I feel it's best if we slay their horses. These animals seem well-trained, so chances are good that they will find their way home, which will surely draw all manner of attention and suspicion."
Once they near the town again, Affyria adopts her disguise again, that of a plain looking young woman, not especially pretty, one that would not stand out in a crowd. "So, Thorn has sent us some reinforcements, has he? Well, the first step has been taken already, and we best not delay for too long," she says as she leans in and lowers her voice to a whisper, relaying the events of that day.
"Rafael" appears average enough. Brown-haired and brown-eyed, to say that the rotund middle-aged man is entirely forgettable is probably quite accurate. "Raevanis, or Raven if it feels easier or preferable," he says in a voice barely above a whisper, hia tone casual, as he joins them, taking a seat next to Ordywyt. "We are your new friends," he adds, then looks at Morthos. "Although he appears to be an old friend, yes?"
Daidalos greets the newcomers with a charming smile and a keen eye, "You are to be among the Ninth? Excellent, good to meet you all. Raevanis, Ordywyt, good to make your acquaintance. Morthos, good to have you back. I trust you know of our mission here, yes? Today, we just returned from our first action. We must now move swiftly before the alarm is raised. However, with you as our reinforcements, I am confident that we can easily accomplish our goal. Ideally, we would eliminate one more captain before we begin our assault. In roughly two days, a patrol will be sent out to investigate the disappearance of their normal patrol, likely led by Captain Eddarly. However, the captain is also having an affair with another captain- Mott's- wife. If we manage to expose him before he is sent away, there's bound to be some sort of reaction. The least we can hope for is for him to be dismissed from duty for a couple of days. With him out of the way, we can likely infiltrate the watchtower- look around you, see those guards? There are at least a few that come every day. We remove them, take their place, and go to bed. Almost all the men sleep in the same room, and they'll be unarmed, out of their armor, and asleep. Next door, the clerics have their chambers. With a bit of luck, we can slit all of their throats without waking a single soul, and virtually cripple the garrison. Unless one of you all has another plan? I'm open to ideas." Diadalos tells the others as it's safe.
"Rafael" appears average enough. Brown-haired and brown-eyed, to say that the rotund middle-aged man is entirely forgettable is probably quite accurate. "Raevanis, or Raven if it feels easier or preferable," he says in a voice barely above a whisper, hia tone casual, as he joins them, taking a seat next to Ordywyt. "We are your new friends," he adds, then looks at Morthos. "Although he appears to be an old friend, yes?"
Turning to the brawler, "You could say we were ALL simply 'hanging around' with no place to go... until we had some place to go," he whispers in his normal voice as a slight grin forms that easily reads as victorious.
Daidalos greets the newcomers with a charming smile and a keen eye, "You are to be among the Ninth? Excellent, good to meet you all. Raevanis, Ordywyt, good to make your acquaintance. Morthos, good to have you back. I trust you know of our mission here, yes? Today, we just returned from our first action. We must now move swiftly before the alarm is raised. However, with you as our reinforcements, I am confident that we can easily accomplish our goal. Ideally, we would eliminate one more captain before we begin our assault. In roughly two days, a patrol will be sent out to investigate the disappearance of their normal patrol, likely led by Captain Eddarly. However, the captain is also having an affair with another captain- Mott's- wife. If we manage to expose him before he is sent away, there's bound to be some sort of reaction. The least we can hope for is for him to be dismissed from duty for a couple of days. With him out of the way, we can likely infiltrate the watchtower- look around you, see those guards? There are at least a few that come every day. We remove them, take their place, and go to bed. Almost all the men sleep in the same room, and they'll be unarmed, out of their armor, and asleep. Next door, the clerics have their chambers. With a bit of luck, we can slit all of their throats without waking a single soul, and virtually cripple the garrison. Unless one of you all has another plan? I'm open to ideas." Diadalos tells the others as it's safe.
Rubbing his chin in thought a moment, "Do we have the proof of such an affair? You know these fools would not believe such an accusation against their precious captain without proof. If we have that, that will most assuredly buy us some time indeed." He then takes a quick glances over at the guards, "If Eddarly and his patrol is chosen to be sent out to investigate, there is always the opportunity for ambush, correct?" he offers. He then thinks on it a moment, "Although, that could prove to be a bit more delicate to orchestrate," he concludes, mostly to himself than the others. Losing himself in thought once again for just a moment, he pops out of his reverie and continues. "If we are able to prove this affair, that would be the least difficult path and the most beneficial due to the simple fact that less blood spilt equals less scrutiny on everyone around. Otherwise, going with Diadolos's other idea will have to suffice in the case of replacing the guards with ourselves. But we would have to move quickly if that is our decided path; for if any of these fellow fool guards of theirs feel like 'chit-chatting'," he says with obvious distaste, "it could easily prove to our detriment."
"No proof, at least not yet. Likely the simplest method would be to inform the good Captain Mott that his colleague and wife are enjoy each other's company. It would likely be easiest to find out where Mott lives, observe it until Eddarly comes to visit, and then send an anonymous not to Mott that he ought to return home to see his wife, explaining the situation. All we need then is a bit of time and to find out where Mott lives- should be easy enough."
Affyria nods at Daidalos' suggestion. "Disposing of the guards while they're asleep certainly is the better plan. There probably will be guards posted at certain points however, and probably several servants about as well. A keep like that is never fully asleep. Before we go that route however, I still think we need to take out their mage and their rookery first."
"No proof, at least not yet. Likely the simplest method would be to inform the good Captain Mott that his colleague and wife are enjoy each other's company. It would likely be easiest to find out where Mott lives, observe it until Eddarly comes to visit, and then send an anonymous note to Mott that he ought to return home to see his wife, explaining the situation. All we need then is a bit of time and to find out where Mott lives- should be easy enough."
Nodding, "Sounds perfect. Let us follow this idea and see where it leads us." Turning to Affyria, "I would agree, Affyria, this keep never sleeps. Fools they may be but unfortunately not fool enough to let down their guard. Obviously eliminating them in their sleep would be all too perfect, but, a gamble that more than likely would cost us." Turning his attention back to them all, "But we can ponder that for another time. Now, I believe we should make the attempt to ruin the so-called 'good' name of this Eddarly fool. The attention drawn will be toward him exclusively which makes Diadalos's plan all too perfect." Pondering it all a moment, he looks back to Affyria with a questioning look, "Why the mage and the rookery first, Affyria, why remove them first? What importance do mere birds have within this scheme?" he asks, truly curious.
"The rookery is how the keep stays in contact with the outside world. If we kill the birds and the mage, they're cut off from communication. I personally feel that we shouldn't rush overly to eliminate the messengers. Far better to ensure the alarm is never raised- it takes time to cast a spell of distant contact or to compose a message for reinforcements- and if we act swiftly enough, it will not matter at all if nearby keeps catch wind of the plan- we will be done long before they could come. As for the garrison never sleeping." he glances furtively around the room, "We have a map upstairs- I'll show you later- we know where the barracks are. If we pose as a half-dozen guards staggering in from a night of drinking too much, we wait inside until the guards there go to sleep. Nobody in their right mind would willingly stay in the same room as fifty or more snoring guards. And there, we can eliminate half the soldiers before anyone suspects a thing. With a bit of luck, we can do the same for the priests- they sleep in the next room over."
Taking it all in, "Interesting. Well it seems we have a plan then. We ruin the fool Eddarly and then the guards will meet an untimely end." He then contemples a moment on how to get rid of the 'messengers' for just-in-case purposes, "You know, it is possible to rid ourselves of these birds if, at a later time, we deem it necessary." He cuts his eyes left to right, "A dose of something... 'potent', let's say, within their water/food could spell their end with none the wiser. Although, it would take one of us who possesses such a craft," he shrugs, simply mentioning a possible avenue. "Just for future reference."
"Husbands catching their wives with other men, or even being informed of such a thing, generally do not dwell too much on the how and why of such pieces of information, not at first at least," Raevanis offers as Rafael. "It should work. And who knows? If this Mott catches Eddarly and his wife in the...ahem... act, so to speak...," the elf wearing the guise of a human continues with a shrug. "Well, let us all hope that for their sakes no weapons are close at hand. Or let us hope that there are."
Timo watches at the newcomer slices his own eyes, his meaning perfectly clear. "Interesting new comrades our 'patron' sends us. He should get along quite well with Asturu. I do wonder their opinions on Thorn. Contract or not, one day I will make that man pay for what he did."
As the conversation winds down, Timo speaks up. "It appears then that our next course of action is set. Destroy Eddarly and Mott by exposing their secret. Success would mean three of the captains would be removed."
As you finish your discussion, you realize it's gone into the evening and Tiadora's platinum piece has bought you dinner and drink. You head up to your respective rooms for the night and settle in, letting your plans for tomorrow percolate.
In the middle of the night, Affyria and Ordywrt are awoken by the sound of someone moving in the hall.
Ordywyt rises out of bed. Must be another guest here. No, it's never just some other person. I'd better go check. Picking up his mace and dagger, he quietly tries to peek through the door.
Ordywyt manages to open the door just a crack to see a large, barrel-chested man heading down the stairs to the first floor. It looks like... the innkeeper? He introduced himself while serving last night. Bellam, wasn't it? Bellam Barhold.
It seems almost like he's sneaking... Wearing a nightshirt and slippers, holding a single handle aloft.
Affyria wakes in the middle of the night, unsure of the cause at first, when she hears a stumble in the hall. She peeks out the door, and catches a glimpse of the barkeep, and of Ordywyt across the hall. With a wink, she presses a finger vertically against her lips.
Adressing Kiffex, Affyria orders him, "Follow him, see what he's up to and report back."
"Yes, mistress. He'll never know a thing." The imp grins wickedly and vanishes from view.
Bellam sneaks his way down into the common room where he begins to move with a little less care for stealth. He goes behind the bar, into the kitchen and from their to the pantry and liquor storage. Ordywyt may have trouble following closely (if he tries to), but for Kiffex it's as easy as a fly on the wall. (Which, for the imp, isn't far from the truth.)
In the liquor storage area, Kiffex sees Bellam grab some dusty barrels of wine while Bellam mumbles and grumbles, "Gone sour and turned to vinegar. Rotted waste. But Havelyn, that's a right nice stash he's got down there... Just an easy swap."
He moves a crate, revealing a trap door in the floor, heading down. Kiffex is barely able to sneak through before Bellam reaches the bottom and yanks on a rope to pull the trap door shut. From there, Bellam uses a small lantern to guide his way along a narrow tunnel that heads roughly towards Balentyne. After several hundred yards, he makes his way up a ladder, opens another trap door (which he leaves open), and emerges into a cross-shaped stone chamber filled with crates and barrels.
Bellam swaps some of his smaller casks for casks of a finer quality, then heads back to the Inn and then to bed.
Kiffex reports all of this to Affyria. Ordywyt would probably be able to find the hidden trap door but following further would be difficult.
During the time that Kiffex is following the innkeeper, Affyria's first instinct would probably be to quietly wake the others, and get them to gear up, her first thought being that the innkeeper overheard something in the common room and is sneaking out to warn the guards.
Once Kiffex reports back, Affyria merely smirks, and informs the others of what her fiendish fawning friend found out. "It seems our entry into the keep has been taken care of. Our goodly innkeeper appears to be skimming some of commander Havelyn's winecellar, through a secret passage hidden right here in the inn. Asmodeus smiles on us indeed."
"A secret passage? Most interesting. Where does it come out, do you know?" Daidalos strokes his chin, "This could open up all sorts of new possibilities, though I still do think that replacing guards may well be a good idea. The barracks are almost certainly guarded, and it would be good to get into them without raising the alarm." he yawns, "Still, it seems several of our potential problems have been solved before they even presented themselves. Now, unless there's something else of a pressing matter, I would like to return to sleeping now."
The glum writer opens his mouth to chime in, but inadvertently yawns instead. He blinks away the sleep and continues"We should discuss this further in the morning. However, before sleep washes this thought away, let me share the first thought I had upon hearing this: we can poison the wine. Goodnight."
The next morning you all awake to the smell of bacon and other things cooking in the kitchen downstairs. As you gradually make your way down, you find Bellam has set aside a table in the corner for you. ”The blonde lady requested it for you...” he says with a look that is both slightly smitten and befuddled. He takes your orders for breakfast and gives you your privacy.
"Blonde? Wait, no, don't answer that. Thank you, Bellam, and a good day to you too."
Unsure as to what to expect, Asturu moves to the table with equal parts hunger and curiosity gnawing at his conscious.
Timo stumbles downstairs a bit surly over being woken up. Sure the information was good to have, but could it not have waited to be shared in the morning. As Bellam relates his message, Timo offers nothing more grunt of acknowledgement. "The watchdog returns. I definitely needed more sleep for this meeting..."
Raevanis follows alongside Asturu as the man makes his way to the table. The smells assaulting the hooded pale elf's nose do make him turn and look towards the kitchen. Still, the expression on his face betrays a hint of distaste before he turns and takes his seat at the table, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he takes care to avoid any spots where the light might find him enough to cast a shadow.
"So," he speaks up, addressing no one of his new companions in particular, as if talking will distract him and chase his present thoughts away, "are we to expect company perhaps?"
Tiadora is nowhere in sight. It's possible she suggested this to Bellam during her visit yesterday.