Tyari and Brantos are seated on the other side of Marikel. The priestess leans over and whispers in his ear, "I offered to conduct a religious funeral, or to solemnize their own ceremony in any part they'd have me for, but the Chief Defender turned me down quite firmly. Politely, of course, but without a bit of hesitation. I think they feel like they're doing just fine without the gods' help."
Marikel shivers and takes a deep breath before he leans back into Tyari and whispers back.
He pulls back and smiles gently.
Jagrin and Rodrick return from the beacon, the Patrol Captain carrying a torch lit at the Flame of the Fallen. The pair ascend the stage, and Jagrin thrusts the torch into a brazier, where the waiting coals glow and flicker to life with a rather eerie black flame.
"His Hopeknife?" Halgra asks quietly, and Rodrick hands her the dagger. A thick gauntlet on her hand, she takes it by the hilt and holds its blade in the flame. The steel first glows with the heat; then, it begins perceptibly to darken, the blade turning black. Finally, Halgra removes the knife from the fire and turns away to let the metal cool. Those near enough the stage can see the engraving on the blade shining like a star as the dull black of the darkened blade blends into the rising night.
"A black blade," Halgra says quietly, her voice still carrying over the absolute hush of the ceremony, "is the best memorial a Trunauan can hope to leave behind. Those who carry one in memory of a fallen hero carry a treasure more valuable than an inheritance of gold."
She turns back to the Grath father and son, and it is clear that the crowd expects one of them to accept the blade. Instead, Brinya stands, dry-eyed and resolute, in the front row and climbs onto the stage. An excited murmur runs through the crowd as Halgra extends the tarnished Hopeknife to her, and she accepts it. Rodrick gives her a sad smile and rests a hand gently on her shoulder; Jagrin merely stares straight ahead, his face a stern mask.
Halgra does not allow the eager speculation to metastasize but firmly continues with the ceremony. She turns to Jagrin and accepts the torch from his hand, then steps over to the bier. "Kerst Grath," she addresses the corpse in a gentle tone, "you stood your ground. You lived free. You kept your Vow. Your neighbors thank you."
With a last sad smile at the dead man, Halgra lays the torch down on the oil-soaked cloth of the bier. The flame spreads quickly, feeding the fuel hidden underneath. Brinya's eyes close tightly. Rodrick's fists clench convulsively. Jagrin Grath merely watches impassively. In the front row, Banny's head drops into her hands, and Omast Frum rests a heavy hand on her back. Women can be heard quietly crying in the crowd, and more than a few men cough their sorrow, but no one says a word as the sparks fly into the air.
Alicia blinks away tears. The rogue turns her head away from Ruby, angry at being caught up in the crowd's emotions.
Vhailor watches on, though without the true empathetic somber tone of the others holding witness. Instead he's fascinated and curious about what is transpiring. He retains enough notion and composure to limit any furtive motion and still his tongue though.
Carbonel on the other hand holds less concern and is a short distance away, tucked into a nook to avoid any careless boots that might proceed his way.
As the pyre burns, one by one, people begin to get quietly to their feet and move away. Tyari and Brantos remain respectfully until the crowd has thinned considerably.
"When we return to Sanctuary, I'll conduct a quiet memorial ceremony," Tyari intimates to Brantos and Marikel on either side of her. "He may not have been an explicit follower of the Inheritor, but his character and actions are certainly worthy of the goddess."
Brantos nods his approval. "I would have been proud to fight alongside him. What's all this about an imminent orc attack? Marikel, do you know anything about that?"
A Patrol member approaches the Sanctuary party. "Pardon the interruption. Chief Defender's compliments, and would Padre Selentin and Miss Dawnblade join the Council in Ivory Hall tonight?"
A similar Patrol officer stops Vhailor, Kaleb, and Dorn on their way back to the Ramblehouse and issues the same invitation.
Ali arches an eyebrow, her curiosity getting the better of her. With hardly a look at Marikel, she nods. "Name the time."
Vhailor smiles gamely and pushes his lensless glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Responding with restrained chirp he agrees "Of course... I'm assuming there isn't a dress code?"
"I would have been proud to fight alongside him. What's all this about an imminent orc attack? Marikel, do you know anything about that?"
"Would have...?"
Marikel frowns and ignores Brantos question."Kerst Grath did seem worthy of the Inheritor. It would be right to bring him to Her attention."
Marikel glances to Tyari, then Brantos.
"As for the orc attack, we're still investigating. I've told Miss Varvatos all we know."
A Patrol member approaches the Sanctuary party. "Pardon the interruption. Chief Defender's compliments, and would Padre Selentin and Miss Dawnblade join the Council in Ivory Hall tonight?"
Marikel smirks inwardly at the idea of Brantos being excluded from the proceedings and looks up as the Patrol officer approaches.
"Of course," he glances back to Alicia. "We'll come right away."
The dwarf looks to the others and shrugs, "Sure. Can't say that I've ever been inside the Ivory hall. I wonder if it's as fancy as it sounds?"
Vhailor smiles gamely and pushes his lensless glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Responding with restrained chirp he agrees "Of course... I'm assuming there isn't a dress code?"
"Uh... no, sir," the Patrolwoman replies, a bit flummoxed. "I'm sure what you're wearing will be fine. I'll take you folks there now, if you like," he offers to the gnome, halfling, and dwarf.
Marikel smirks inwardly at the idea of Brantos being excluded from the proceedings and looks up as the Patrol officer approaches.
"Of course," he glances back to Alicia. "We'll come right away."
Tyari stops him a moment by laying her hand on his forearm. "Assure the Council that the mission stands ready to support them in whatever manner they wish. We're not making demands or interfering in their deliberation; we just want to help."
"Uh... no, sir," the Patrolwoman replies, a bit flummoxed. "I'm sure what you're wearing will be fine. I'll take you folks there now, if you like," he offers to the gnome, halfling, and dwarf.
Looking around at the other two and then back to the Patrolwoman, Dorn shrugs and grins. "I guess so! Lead the way, lass." Looking over at Skyreaver, "Awn ni, Reaver."
Dorn then turns back to the Patrolwoman, "That's me bird friend Skyreaver. He'll be comin' with me. But I'll leave 'im outside, don't cha be worryin'. He doesn't really like inside anyway."
Tyari stops him a moment by laying her hand on his forearm. "Assure the Council that the mission stands ready to support them in whatever manner they wish. We're not making demands or interfering in their deliberation; we just want to help."
"Of... of course," Marikel looks at Tyari's hand on his arm then into her eyes.
"I mean...", he blinks, "I've offered, and met with a response similar to yours. I'll assure them."Marikel smiles briefly. "Again."
He turns towards the Ivory Hall and departs, glancing back only the once.
As Marikel and Alicia head toward Ivory Hall, they converge with the Patrolwoman escorting Dorn, Kaleb, and Vhailor to the same location.
Ivory Hall, the only other building in Trunau, besides the Iomedaean mission, painted white, seems softly to glow, reflecting the rosy flicker of the beacon and the smaller spots of lamps on either side of its front doors. The Patrolwoman opens one of the doors and allows the party to precede her into the narrow foyer that runs along the front of the building; following them in, she opens a door in the opposite wall and gestures them into the Meeting Room which takes up most of the first floor of the building.
The southeastern wall of windows which, in daylight, provides a panoramic vista of the scrubland surrounding Bloodmarch Hill, is a black mirror tonight. Even the keen eyes of the dwarf can't make out the land below from this vantage, but anyone approaching the hill under cover of darkness would easily see the lit windows atop the protruding crag of the cliff and the small figures moving back and forth in it.
In addition to the party, those figures include the current members of Trunau's Council of Defenders. Sara Morninghawk, the half-orc smith, is sitting in a chair that looks ready to snap under her, her feet up on the long table in the middle of the room, where Kerst's body lay in state until the funeral. At her side is seated Agrit Staginsdar, a female dwarf and proprietor of the House of Wonders, a little-purveyed shop for magical curios. Kessen Plumb, a representative of one of Trunau's oldest families, is gazing thoughtfully into a blazing fireplace. Baseil Sawyer, scion of mining wealth, is in quiet but intense conversation with Lessie Crumkin, known for the priceless collection of historical relics and artifacts she keeps in her home; she sees Alicia enter and gives her a surreptitious smile and wave.
Halgra is slumped in a chair along the wall near the front of the room, sipping from a wine glass and looking older than she has ever done in public. When she sees the party arrive, she pulls herself together, handing her glass off to a Patrolman and forcing a wan smile onto her face. "Thank you for coming," she says, getting to her feet. "It's thanks to you that we know what we know; it seems only fair that we share that information with you, along with what we plan to do with it."
She turns to the rest of the room, raising her voice back to its customary crispness. "All right, Council. Let's get to business. There's many of us who will want a decent night's sleep before the morning."
The six chairs of the Council members have been placed close together along one side and the ends of the table, and five extra chairs have been lined up along the other side for the party, two thoughtfully prepared with thick bolsters to put Kaleb and Vhailor at an equal height to the taller attendees.
Alicia gives Lessie an almost-imperceptible nod as she takes a seat. She does her best to avoid looking at Sawyer, knowing that if she did, she would stare daggers at him.
Marikel considers remaining standing but seeing the prepared chairs he settles stiffly next to Alicia.
Dorn, grinning at the sight of the place, takes a seat next to the cleric. Leaning over, "This place is pretty fancy, lad. You do good," he compliments, leaning back out and looking around as he waits for the meeting to start.
As Halgra takes her place at the head of the table, the door from the foyer opens once again, and Banny hurries in. "Sorry," she explains to the room. "I was with Brinya. Didn't want to leave her alone, so I took her to her parents' house." She scoots into the last chair on the party's side of the table.
A warm smile crosses Marikel's face at the sight of Banny but he says nothing and turning back to Halgra he returns to his business like manner.
As Halgra takes her place at the head of the table, the door from the foyer opens once again, and Banny hurries in. "Sorry," she explains to the room. "I was with Brinya. Didn't want to leave her alone, so I took her to her parents' house." She scoots into the last chair on the party's side of the table.
Smiling, "No problem, lass. Ya did good. Glad ya could make it!" he says, giving her a cheerful nod. He then looks over at Marikel and shrugs seeing how he has no idea who she is but figures he might as well give her a warm welcome.
Halgra gives Banny a welcoming nod, then turns to the opposite side of the table. "Council of Defenders," she announces, "meet the newest saviors of Trunau. Or, if we all die in battle, at least the people who gave us a fighting chance. You may notice," she drawls casually, "that only a few of them have their Hopeknives, that is, that most of them are that most distrusted and disregarded category in Trunau: outsiders."
Baseil Sawyer bristles. "Are you saying, Chief Defender," he asks harshly with an unfriendly glance across the table, "that Trunau can't take care of its own?"
"Not at all, Councilor," Halgra replies mildly. "The Patrol did not investigate this matter because its chief officers were too personally invested in its outcome. I have no doubt that our Patrol could have discovered the plot against the town, given free rein and disinterested personnel. I merely point out that we ought to be very glad, in this instance, that competent and reliable outside help was available."
"One principle we've always valued in Trunau is that those who have proven themselves locally are appreciated for their capability, not questioned about their background. In that spirit, I've invited these folk here to hear what their efforts have uncovered ... and to impose on them for any further help they may be in a position to give us."
She turns her attention to the party's side of the table. "It appears that the Twisted Nail orcs reached out through agents unknown to Freedom Town, seeking help in gaining entrance into Trunau. Their people would pose as prospectors, but their real aim was to cut a path up the back of Bloodmarch Hill that would allow attackers to gain access to the very heart of Trunau, while our defenders would be deployed along the palisades. In addition to the flood troll you captured, a guide from Freedom Town known as Melira has been implicated, along with a number of unidentified male half-orcs. The Patrol has been instructed to take Melira into custody on sight."
"The secret path up the cliff of Bloodmarch Hill was fortunately not completed, but the conspirators came close. We believe that the Twisted Nail may already be on the march down from the Mindspins, anticipating that the path will be finished by the time they arrive. They expect that we are unwarned; we intend to turn the element of surprise on them."
"Patrol Captain Grath will leave in the morning to lead an expeditionary force into the Mindspins. We have extensive knowledge of the passes that lead down to the plain and hope to ambush the orc army at a chokepoint and do enough damage that they are forced to retreat to the highlands. Failing that, they will inflict as many casualties as possible and then perform a fighting retreat back to Bloodmarch Hill to join up with the defenders here, so that the attacking army will at least be weakened before it reaches our palisade. In the meantime, Trunau will be on high alert, the civilians will be ready to retreat to the Longhouse, and the Patrol will keep pitch burning and oil boiling to tip over the promontory on anyone trying to gain access by the unfinished passage." She smiles a little grimly. "They hoped to take us by surprise, but we'll have a few surprises up our own sleeves for the Twisted Nail. Are there any questions?"
"I have a question," Baseil Sawyer speaks up, "the same question I've had since first you broached this plan, Chief Defender. What is to be done to protect the lives and property of the citizens to Trunau from the saboteurs who are almost assuredly already within our walls while half our defense force marches off to the Mindspins? I insist that we expel all non-citizens for the duration of this crisis, or at least put them under close observation."
Agrit Staginsdar and Sara Morninghawk scowl at this suggestion, but Lessie Crumkin and Kessen Plumb appear less unequivocal.
Marikel clears his throat.
"If I may, Chief Defender. I think your plan an excellent plan. Turning back the invading force before they reach Trunau would save countless lives and, should it not succeed completely, Trunau is already on alert for the troops to fall back to. The Church of Iomedae are ready to help with both battle and healing, wherever we would benefit Trunau the most."
Marikel's eyes flick to Alicia but he turns to Councillor Baseil Sawyer
"Councillor Sawyer. Apart from Melira, my companions and I have captured the saboteurs responsible for this failed ingress. Even if Melira could, on her own, bring down every wall that safeguards Trunau, with the attacking army ambushed in the Mindspins the real threat will be dealt with. However, if you have any information on further saboteurs, even if you can identify that they are or are not citizens of Trunau, that information could be vital to our further investigations."
Marikel keeps a straight face and avoids glancing at Alicia again.
Alicia turns to silently stare at Councilor Sawyer.
Vhailor blanches at the mention of a force of orcs advancing towards Truneau with blood and murder on their mind, the gnawing fear emotion overriding the small peanut of pride that was fanned by their warmish reception. Though his gullet roils and writhes with uncertainty he is bouyed by a curious sense of calm anticipation and feline hunger that emanates from his shoulder. Carbonel sits... well perches more specifically in a position of half-stalk as the cat listens to the talk with attentive ears and open mismatched eyes. Vhailor turns to the cat, who meets his eyes and purrs sussurant and confident subvocal back at his companion.
Words begins to form nascent shapes in his throat before coagulating and vomiting forth from his mouth in mostly legible phrase "Can I help?... I mean... with the expedition? I.. I know I'm outsidey and all that but without Truneau after Master Carbonel disappeared I'd be dead. I'd rather be non-dead still when this is all said and done... and it seems the best way I could achieve that is helping Mister Grath stay not-dead as well. I'm not much for bloodletting... but I can make things look and sound like they aught not... and Carb" tilting his head t'wards the cat upon his shoulder "Has a few tricks up his fur as well..." trailing off as he realises that eyes and faces have tilted his way with either patronising, dismissive or insulting gaze. His eyes fall to the floor and he toes at a bit of fluff.
"Can I help?... I mean... with the expedition? I.. I know I'm outsidey and all that but without Truneau after Master Carbonel disappeared I'd be dead. I'd rather be non-dead still when this is all said and done... and it seems the best way I could achieve that is helping Mister Grath stay not-dead as well. I'm not much for bloodletting... but I can make things look and sound like they aught not... and Carb" tilting his head t'wards the cat upon his shoulder "Has a few tricks up his fur as well..." trailing off as he realises that eyes and faces have tilted his way with either patronising, dismissive or insulting gaze. His eyes fall to the floor and he toes at a bit of fluff.
If Vhailor's proposal is met with amusement from some on the far side of the table, it is not by Halgra, who nods graciously. "Patrol Captain Grath is putting the team together, but I will pass on your offer to him. And yours, Padre," she turns to Marikel. "We certainly don't want to leave the citizenry bereft, but a healer might be quite welcome on the expedition."
"Councillor Sawyer. Apart from Melira, my companions and I have captured the saboteurs responsible for this failed ingress. Even if Melira could, on her own, bring down every wall that safeguards Trunau, with the attacking army ambushed in the Mindspins the real threat will be dealt with. However, if you have any information on further saboteurs, even if you can identify that they are or are not citizens of Trunau, that information could be vital to our further investigations."
"What?" he snaps irritably in return. "Of course I don't have anyone personally in mind; the people among whom this plot has spread are hardly part of my customary social circle. But my understanding is that a number of the conspirators frequented that filthy boarding house just inside the Inner Quarter and that the Ramblehouse may be implicated as well. Clearing out people whose loyalties are questionable, at least until the crisis has passed, will promote the safety of the citizens of Trunau. Not only that," he concludes sanctimoniously, "but the security of innocent bystanders as well. If these people are not saboteurs, surely they'll be better off somewhere else than in a town under attack. Lastwall, for instance, would, I'm sure, welcome them. Is that not so, Padre?"
"Exactly what kind of 'questionable people' are you talking about, Sawyer?" Sara Morninghawk bristles. "Let's just get this out in the open."
Sawyer is unruffled. "I mean no offense, Sara, but the facts are that everyone proven to be involved in this conspiracy thus far is of mixed blood. Clearly, everyone in this room is absolved from suspicion, as are Captain Grath and his family, but can you swear to the loyalty of every half-orc in this town? My understanding is that one of the conspirators was employed by your smithy."
Sara Morninghawk smacks the table with the flat of her hand in anger and gets halfway to her feet; the dwarf beside her puts a calming hand on her forearm without redirecting the scowl of disapproval she is focusing on Baseil Sawyer.
"I think the 'questionable people' the councilor is referring to are the ones a councilor is likely to be spied speaking with in a darkened alley," Alicia chimes in, staring at Sawyer pointedly now. "And perhaps the sort of councilor who would play that sort of cloak-and-dagger game."
"Alicia, NO!"
Marikel turns back to the Councilor.
"Our apologies, Councilor Sawyer. We all share your concerns for the safety of the citizens of Trunau and the security of innocent bystanders. But we can only determine whose loyalties are questionable by their actions. By your own admission, there are those of mixed blood who are above suspicion. Likewise, we were aided by members of the boarding house in bringing these criminals to justice. Without these people we would have no chance of defending Trunau from this threat. Now is not the time to prevent such people from helping Trunau further."
He glares at Alicia.
Vhailor's eyes narrow... the way they do when he thinks a little too much, too hard and too sudden... a terrible thought-seed drops from the yawning cosmos that is his grey matter. Lodging fertile into the loamy soil of the impulsive center of his brain... the gnome blurts "Men ruhoniy rozilik bildirasiz. Biz bilgan yopishib qoladi." rocking back slightly in faux-surprise in having spoken... while keeping his eyes twisted t'wards Councilor Sawyer to see if there is a flicker of recognition.
Marikel looks confused, then worried, then angry, then worried again and finally confused.
Sawyer glances at Vhailor with annoyance but no apparent glimmer of understanding. "Indeed, we appreciate the eagerness of your mission to help Trunau, Padre," he replies to Marikel. "It's rare to find people so interested in the well-being of others when there is nothing for them personally to gain from the situation."
"The Padre has already been thanked for doing his part," Halgra puts in firmly, "and the Council isn't going to deal with any further business tonight. Baseil, your concerns have already been voiced; continuing to argue them isn't going to change anyone's mind tonight. If there are no other questions, I'm going to declare this meeting adjourned and encourage everyone to get a good night's sleep. We're all going to want to give Captain Grath and his men a hearty send-off in the morning."
Dorn nods in agreement with Vhailor. "Bu Padre, biz bilgan bilan yopishib, to'g'ri." He looks over at Vhailor and gives a wink, grinning and shrugging seeing how he himself barely knows anyone.
"Thank you, Chief Defender. There are many who do the right thing merely because it is the right thing to do. I try to be among them."
He rises from his chair and turns to his companions, glaring.
"Shall we?" he asks calmly and heads for the door.
Alicia continues to glare at Sawyer as she stands and follows after Marikel.
Vhailor and Dorn follow Marikel and Alicia out into the night, while Kaleb and Banny linger behind. It is full night now, and the flickering light of the beacon from which Kerst's pyre was lit washes over the top of Bloodmarch Hill like waves on the distant shore, if anyone present had traveled far enough to see such, painting walls and roads with red light while alleys and shadows remain all the darker by the contrast.
When they're well clear of the hall, Marikel whispers furiously to his companions.
"What was the meaning of that behaviour? We're trying to convince the council that we're trustworthy and capable and you two," he points a finger of each hand at Vhailor and Dorn, "start babbling in strange tongues. That was hardly reassuring behaviour and certainly not becoming before such noted dignatories."
He rounds on Alicia.
"And you, young Miss. If Councilor Sawyer is innocent, you're accusing an ally we need the help of. And if he's guilty, you've warned him that we know. I demand to know the purpose for such an outrage."
Alicia scowls at Marikel. "He's guilty," she says, as if that was the only thing that needed to be stated.
"Thank you, Chief Defender. There are many who do the right thing merely because it is the right thing to do. I try to be among them."
He rises from his chair and turns to his companions, glaring.
"Shall we?" he asks calmly and heads for the door.
"Sure!" he replies heartily. Grinning, he catches sight of Alicia's scowl toward Sawyer. As he glances back and forth between the two a couple of times, he decides to create his own glare at the man and points two fingers from one hand toward his eyes before switching them around toward Sawyer as he leaves, letting him clearly know that they'll be watching.
As they make it outside, he's just about to let them know how tough he was before Marikel explains the downfall of it. As his eyes shoot back and forth in a panic while he mentally searches for an answer, he grins in relief. "He's guilty, that's it. Whew, that's a relief! Because I gave 'im the ol' - 'We'll be watchin' you, lad', look. Ya know, with the two fingers." He demonstrates once again. "And it wasn't that strange of a tongue, lad. We were only speakin' giant. I thought it was part of the fun. You know, a game y'all play here in town. That's a good game. I like it," he says, smiling pleasantly.