The pair had fortune on their side, as they managed to find their companions too far at one of the local taverns. Upon hearing the news, the rest of the party determined that it would be better to try and reclaim their lost pin sooner rather than later and they quickly made their way back to the shop before the merchant had a chance to close. The wiry man didn't seem at all pleased when Asla suddenly became very animated, giving him thanks for finding his lost pin. He cleared his throat as he shuffled the item back onto the shelf and fixed the monk with a flippant look.
“Your pin? Oh, but I'm afraid that I purchased this from a passing caravan. It can't possibly be yours.”
Asla sobered almost immediately. “But it is. You see, my companions and I have come to the city on an errand for a powerful mage. As we were beginning to return, the pin was stolen from me by a street urchin and without it, we cannot return expediently. We have to return tonight or else the mage will be quite angry with us. So we really do need to have it returned.”
The mage stroked at his chin and seemed to be running through things in his mind. Though he had been looking on the group with a slight sympathy for a short time, he shook his head slowly and folded his arms inside his wide sleeves.
“That's a terribly sad story, but...” The man gave a shrug and let the refusal hang in the air. It was Asla's turn to shake his head and he looked hard at the corrupt merchant.
“And, of course, I know you would hate to be passing stolen goods in your store,” he said carefully. “You are just as much a victim as I am, having someone tell you it was legitimate goods. So if you would just be so kind as to return my pin so that I don't get flayed by an angry wizard, I'm sure this can just end here. We can all forget it ever happened.”
The merchant started to shake his head again before Asla had even finished his sentence. The monk was starting to come to the end of his rope, but opted for a last gambit to try and reason with the stubborn man.
“Of course, I'm sure, for your troubles, we can offer a bit of compensation,” Asla said with a hopeful glance to Gaylia. “Say, 100 gold pieces?”
The incredulous look that came on the shopkeeper's face them was lost on Asla, but not on the ranger, whose frown deepened at the sight of the suddenly blustering man.
“One hundred gold?!” he nearly screeched, his face turning a deep red. “That is an insult, sir, as your very presence in my store is coming to be! I will have you know that I trust my suppliers completely and they would never pawn off stolen items! You would do well to leave my store before I call the Marchmen and have you arrested!”
“Then call your Marchmen, good sir, because I will have my pin returned to me,” Asla said sternly, looking at the shopkeep with smoldering eyes. “I had hoped to finish without unpleasantness, but I will have justice.”
The shopkeeper wilted under the gaze that Asla held him by and suddenly began fidgeting with his hands. He had not counted on having to deal with so many people, least of all this persistent monk, when he had scalped the pin from the rogue in the alleyway and now he found his usual ploys to throw people off suddenly useless.
“Now,” Asla said, leaning in close. “Return. My. Pin.”
The man looked between Asla and the troublesome little pin for a moment, contemplating just what he should do. Finally, he decided, that it wouldn't entirely be worth the trouble that would likely spring from trying to fully involve the law, so with a dejected attitude, he reached back on the high shelf and brought down the pin, handing it, case and all, over to the monk. Asla placed the item back in his belt pouch, gave a curt nod in return, bid the merchant a good evening, and turned to leave. Gaylia, though, was not so quick to depart.
“What did you pay for it?”
“A high price, indeed,” came the shopkeep's tight-lipped reply. He settled a glare on the ranger, though if she were phased in the least by his attempt at intimidation, she gave no indication of it.
“More than the amount we offered you?” she pressed.
“Much more.”
“Then I will let Master Noramros know that you were kind enough to return his stolen pin so that we can finish this important errand for him.” And with a polite node, she began to make her way outside, where Asla and the others stood waiting for her. The shopkeeper, nearly seething looked after the duo and bit his lip to keep from screaming obscenities at the woman. As he watched them converse through the window and start to walk off, he vowed to have at least a little vengeance. He fumed for a moment before seeing a familiar suit or armor come traipsing past his line of sight into the street, suddenly having a flash of insight. Perhaps the idea of involving the Mithril March was not such a daunting thought, after all.
*
The group made their way through the streets of Silvershore in the deepening twilight, completely unenchanted with the city and the citizens therein. Weary in more ways than one, they took heart in seeing the magical transport hall and the thought that they would soon be out of the city, but that hope faded considerably when they saw Lord Crulamin, along with several member of the Mithril March standing at attention on the hall's steps, seemingly waiting for them to arrive.
“Good evening, travelers,” he said without the least bit of geniality. None of them missed the slight sneer on Crulamin's face as he looked down at the group, his posture indicating he had no intention of letting them pass to their goal. Asla let the slight roll and took a step forward.
“Good evening, Lord Crulamin. How may the Watchers assist you?” The lord raised an eyebrow at that, clearly questioning the credentials the monk had provided.
“So the noble Watchers have turned to vandalism and coercion now, have they?” Gaylia balked at the claim and Asla tensed, sensing things were about to get very volatile very quickly.
“I think not and I resent the accusation,” he said, standing strong in the face of Crulamin's deepening glare. “Why would you say such a thing?”
The lord drew his longsword from his side, the blade gleaming in the magical firelight that illuminated the outside foyer of the hall. “Don't play innocent. Several witnesses saw that dwarven woman at the site of a crash damaging goods. Not to mention the report of an elven woman and a half-elf male not long ago intimidating a merchant out of his wares. I wonder who that could have been.”
The party rocked back on their heels a bit as Crulamin rattled off his list of charges. Not only did it seem as though the lord had rapidly acquired information of their dealings with the merchant, but that he had also gained a certain agenda against them as a group. Despite their feelings of being terribly wronged, which were certainly justified, the group steeled themselves as they saw the other members of the March beginning to go for their own weapons.
“Have you forgotten that your own men were chasing a drow elf and the commotion was caused by him?” Gaylia asked, coming forward a bit in defiance of the glare Crulamin sent her way. Asla held out an arm and shook his head slightly at her.
“Let me handle this,” he said softly, not quite taking his eyes off the volatile leader.
“Fine,” the ranger replied through clenched teeth. It was clear that she didn't appreciate the situation as she muttered under her breath of shady merchants and back-alley deals. In truth, none of them did, though it seemed increasingly unlikely that they would get out of this situation unscathed as Crulamin took on a fighter's posture.
“I would thank you to put away your sword, Crulamin,” Asla said, making a final stand. “You know very well that we were not responsible for the crash, and the merchant in question obtained our goods after they had been stolen. I offered a reward for the return, but the merchant decided to return it rather than have the Marchmen here investigate it. Now, we are on an important mission and we must deliver this package to the Royal Mage Noramros, but I will happily remain to help sort whatever issues you have. Just allow my companions to complete our mission and I will be much obliged.”
The others turned their gaze sharply to their friend, wondering what had come over him. Crulamin merely sneered at the proposal and settled fully into his stance.
“I know very well what is a crime and what is not in my city. I also know that you are in no position to make demands.” He nodded his head curtly forward. “Arrest them.”
The Marchmen wasted no time in starting their advance on the party. The lot of them readied themselves for the coming confrontation, despite knowing they were being crucified and likely playing right into Crulamin's hands. But they would not back down. Not now.
As the first of the soldiers began to attack, though, both Gaylia and Asla spotted movement coming from the hall. Their eyes widened as they saw the visage of a tall and stately woman walking toward them, dressed in rich, deep blue robes, which only served to highlight her pale, delicate skin and the fine silver color of her hair. They saw the golden embroidered symbol of their own organization, a single simple eye, emblazoned on her robes and they knew that she could only be one person: Lady Caraliss, the High Archmage of the Watchers.
Asla locked eyes with the woman and bowed, then straightened and turned his gaze to Crulamin, silently telling him he should turn and see what was coming. The man took the hint and turned his head, though he did not expect what met his own eyes. He immediately called for the troops to stop their advance and gave a bow of his own to the woman who came to a stop on the stairs of the hall and looked at the monk, offering an acknowledging nod to him.
“It seems the rumors of unrest in Silvershore bear some merit, after all,” she said casually.
“It is a pleasure to see you, my Lady,” Asla replied, wondering slightly if the comment was actually directed at him or Crulamin. Caraliss only offered a small smile.
“And you, as well,” she said, letting the end of her long inscribed staff rest fully on the ground. “It has been some time since your initiation, Asla.”
“I only hope that I have done the Watchers proud thus far, my Lady.”
“Indeed,” the sage replied, her smile widening. “Though we would be moreso if you would be a little more timely with your reports.” The monk apparently missed the teasing nature of her jibe as he bowed humbly, missing a small silent laugh from the woman.
Gaylia stood to the side gaping at the entire scene, which looked entirely out of place from her perspective, given the present situation. Caraliss didn't miss the strange look, but she offered no explanation for the strange and sudden casual conversation. She merely turned to glance at the figure of Crulamin, who was similarly staring at the scene, though with a growing ire that was apparent in his ever-tightening expression.
“I would wonder why the Lord Crulamin has a sword laid bare against you, though,” Caraliss said as she settled her gaze on the man, not at all ruffled by the stern visage he was wearing. The man gave as much as a formal bow as he could force at the moment.
“Lady Caraliss. I am sorry to report that these people are not as pious and upholding of the law as you believe.”
“Oh? Then tell me what you think I do not know.” The casualty of the slight admonishment made Crulamin lose a bit of his bluster and he shifted slightly, obviously thrown. He regained his composure in short order, though, and stood tall, pointing his sword toward the group.
“They have committed offenses against our city! Vandalism and theft, and were about to resist capture prior to your arrival.”
“I see,” Caraliss said with a small nod. “I will come to the bottom of this, though you would do well to ease your ire in the meantime.”
Crulamin stared at the woman long and hard for a moment, and the party could sense there was a silent battle of wills going on there. Eventually, though, Caraliss proved the victor and the lord replaced his sword in his scabbard. The rest of the soldiers did likewise and began to shuffle slightly away from the group, though they remained alert. Asla ventured a bit closer to the pair of them.
“My Lady, if I may.”
“Peace,” she said, holding a hand to stop both his words and his advancement. “We shall not argue in the streets. We are all more civilized than that. Or so I would like to believe.” Crulamin shifted at the furtive glance she gave him then.
“Not to argue, my Lady,” Asla said, shaking his head. “I have a request.” Caraliss turned back to him, eyebrow raised in curiosity. “The contents of this cart belong to the Farrlmarr Court Mage Noramros. I would ask that our companions be allowed to escort it back through the gate to Farrlmarr. Gaylia and I will be happy to remain behind to sort out the issues here. I believe it is a time-sensitive package, as the Celestiana celebration is soon.”
“I see,” Caraliss said after taking a moment to consider the information. “Then, with the Lord's consent, I also believe this to be a fair enough compromise for the present time. Should the investigation prove to show the others in a negative light, then I shall collect them myself. But this is no reason for the Farrlmarrvian Court to suffer.”
Everyone turned to look at Crulamin, then, who had begun to take on the likeness of a beet. Despite his obvious rage, the man knew he was fairly overmatched should he decide to force the issue, so he mumbled an agreement to the terms. Asla handed the pin over to Kayla with a small smile and everyone save the monk and the ranger proceeded into the hall, watched closely, and none-too-kindly, by the Marchmen. Caraliss rapped her staff on the stairs, bringing everyone's attention back to her.
“Now, then. Shall we retire to more suitable accommodations to sort out these matters?” There was a general nod of agreement and the archmage led the way through the city. Asla and Gaylia had felt that their luck had finally turned for the better, but they knew it would be an uphill battle against Crulamin to truly free themselves.
*
The meeting hall at the headquarters of the Mithril March found itself strangely occupied that night as the accuser, the accused, and the judge sat down to the long table. Caraliss looked between the two sides as she settled, making sure neither of them were showing any overt amount of anger. Seeing the parties had kept themselves in check, at least, for the time being, she drew out a long strand of beads, made from pearls and fine crystal, and wrapped them around her hands.
“With your permission, I shall provide a truthful atmosphere.”
“By all means,” Crulamin growled, narrowing his gaze at the pair across the table from him, which Gaylia reciprocated. The mage drew on her own powers and soon everyone in the room felt a wave of energy wash over them. They knew automatically that they could not tell a false truth, even if they had wanted. Caraliss gave a nod and put away her rosary focus, then looked to simmering lord.
“Now, then. I will hear the complete charges against Asla and Gaylia, as well as your evidence.”
“They and their companions are charged with vandalism of goods, as witnessed by several citizens in the market bazaar, and with the coercion of a merchant and subsequent theft of property.”
“And your evidence to the latter?”
“The word of the victimized merchant.”
“And your answer to the charges?” Caraliss asked, turning to Asla and Gaylia.
“Kayla and Elathan were chasing a drow whom they believed had stolen my pin,” the monk began. “While Kayla may have damaged one or two pieces of fruit, the cart and the other damage was caused by the drow. We would, of course, be happy to reimburse whomever we need to for the damaged fruit. As far as the theft, the item in question was the pin given to us by Noramros and it was found in the pawn shop after it had been stolen. When I explained the circumstances and offered a reward, the merchant threatened to call the guards. I asked him to so we could sort out the issue and he returned the pin without asking for a reward.”
“Do you have anything to add, Gaylia?”
“It is as he says,” the ranger replied. “I also asked the merchant what he paid for the stolen pin, but he did not give me a figure. I also told him that I would let Master Normaros know that he had been kind enough to return his pin before I left.”
“I would also like to state that I asked the same agreement of Lord Crulamin that I presented to you: that the package be delivered and I stay behind to deal with the charges, but he drew his sword and began to advance instead.” Crulamin focused his glare on Asla, but the monk ignored him. The look nearly evaporated, though, when Caraliss turned her attention back to the lord.
“And there you have a completely honest account of what has transpired this day,” she said, folding her hands. “If anything, I would question the dealings of this merchant before anyone.”
Crulamin looked as though he were liable to throw a fit then and there, but only gave a muted growl and leaned back heavily in his chair, drumming his fingers irately. Caraliss frowned momentarily and fixed him with a heavy gaze.
“It would seem as though the tension in the city runs high. Such rashness is unlike you. I would know why you chose to act this way.”
Asla and Gaylia glanced at each other, surprised to hear that the angry and callous man was apparently not always so quick to judge. They stared at him as the man contemplated what he wanted to say, as eager to hear this explanation as their leader.
“We are on high alert, Lady Caraliss,” the man finally admitted. “We are threatened by the beasts of the Mounds.”
“Elaborate,” Caraliss pressed, missing the look between Asla and Gaylia that suggested they might know what this is about.
“The orcs and kobolds have begun to move, and with more intelligence than one would give them credit,” said Crulamin. “My scouts have seen it. They have already launched one attack on a patrol in full sight of the city.”
“Ah, my Lady?” Caraliss glanced at the monk, who had come forward a bit, and bade him speak. “You should know that our outpost was also attacked, as well as an excavation site near Farrlmarr.” Asla produced the emblem from his belt pouch and upon looking at it, Caraliss' features became very neutral.
“I will send word to Watcher's Dale to send aid to Silvershore,” she said after a moment.
“Lady Caraliss?” Crulamin said, suddenly alarmed by both her declaration and the slightly grim tone in her voice.
“This threat may be greater than it appears,” she continued, getting to her feet. “However, if this mark appeared near Farrlmarr, then I must speak with Queen Karrashiva.”
“Wait just a moment!” Crulamin also stood, slamming his hands down on the table to try and get a handle on the situation. “What is threatening us?”
“Evil.” With that single word, Caraliss began to take her leave from the room, with Asla and Gaylia not far behind. They left the Lord of Silvershore standing there gaping, still nearly oblivious to what was looming just outside the walls of his city.
*
“My Lady, do you recognize the symbol,” Asla asked as they trio neared the transportation hall. “We had asked Normaros for help with identifying it, which was why we were doing the errand in the first place.”
“Baenril Wolvesmaw.” The monk held his surprise as he recognized the name of the evil demi-god. He recovered from the slight shock long enough to think about something else that had been nagging at the minds of the party.
“Do you recognize the name 'Horendithas'?”
“I do not,” the mage replied, shaking her head as she flashed her own symbol of passage to the gatekeeper at the hall. “What importance does he bear?”
“He is a grey elf that seemed to be organizing the orcs and kobolds to attack the excavation. He's also a powerful magic user and eluded our attempts to stop him.”
“A grey elf?” Caraliss stopped briefly once they got to Noramros' circle inside the hall, mulling over the idea. “A rogue worshipper, perhaps. But I will hear your reports once we arrive in the city. Come.”
The mage waved her staff over the circle and it came to life, glowing with a faint amber light. The trio stepped into the portal and found themselves back in Farrlmarr in short order, the apprentice mage from before giving a short shriek and falling over at their sudden appearance. Caraliss barely made an apology for so frightening the young man for all her haste, with which the pair were sure to keep up.
They made their way quickly through the halls and down the many staircases until they arrived in the main foyer. Caraliss hailed a passing messenger and bade them announce her presence and intention to meet with the queen, telling Asla and Gaylia afterward to go and find the others. The two bowed and began their search, finding the group back in the grand ballroom with Noramros, the package safely delivered. The two noticed that the group was not alone, though, as the figure of Prince Farrln and the man they had seen some time before, greeted them. Upon closer inspection, they realized that the person they had failed to recognize before was actually King Saireus, returned from a trip abroad. Noramros seemed a bit nervous in the presence of the royal pair, as they were observing the work he had done so far. Still, the mage offered an acknowledging nod when Asla and Gaylia walked over to join them.
“Your Majesties and Mage Noramros, we have returned,” the monk said with a bow. “I trust you received the fireworks in time?”
“Quite, quite,” the mage said, though a little too quickly to hide his obvious nervousness. “Though I've heard that you had a spot of trouble with the Mithril March. Odd.”
“Luckily, Lady Caraliss arrived and helped us sort out the misunderstanding. She escorted us back and is currently meeting with the Queen.” The king turned at the last bit, fixing Asla with a stare.
“Lady Caraliss is here?” he asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Asla replied. “After conversing with Lord Crulamim, she wished to consult with the Queen as well regarding these recent attacks.”
The king wasted little time leaving the hall at the monk's words, leaving the prince tilting his head at his father's sudden odd behavior. Asla offered a slightly uneasy smile to him as a consolation.
“Greetings, Your Majesty. I don't believe we've met, but I heard how you helped the other members of my group at the excavation site. I wish to thank you for your assistance. My name is Asla, of the Watchers, at your service.”
“I remember when I found you in the forest trapped in the ice,” Farrln replied with a smile. “It is nice to see you again in more temperate conditions.” Asla's demeanor eased at the joke.
“Yes, the temperature here is much nicer.”
'I apologize on Master Noramros' behalf for him having turned you all into errandfolk. I'm aware that you all have much more pressing matters to attend to, normally.”
“It's quite all right,” Asla replied, shaking his head. “I realize that the Master Mage is currently quite busy, and anything to air our investigation is appreciated. Have you had a chance to look into the symbol we found, Master Noramros?”
Everyone turned their attention to the tiny mage then, and he tugged at his sleeves quite hard at their sudden focused gazes.
“Oh, yes. There is that matter. As I thought, that is the symbol of Baenril Wolvesmaw. He has a dark history, that one.”
“What can you tell us about him?”
“He actually has a history here in Farrlmarr. He was once a mage in the court, but he studied dark magic. By some means, it's not clear in the records, he managed to amass power and became nearly godlike. He became a sort of tyrant and started up a terrible sort of chaos in Tamourin.”
“Lovely,” Willem quipped from the side.
“How long ago was this? And was he vanquished or did he just disappear?” Asla pressed.
“It was in King Glendahar's time, so about 400 or so years ago,” Noramros replied, pushing his spectacles up a bit higher on the bridge of his nose. “One piece of information I do know is that Glendahar had a hand in Baenril's vanquishing, though I do not know how. For his symbol to reappear now, though...” The mage let the though hang in the air, but Asla and the rest of the group had begun formulating their own thoughts.
“It may have a connection to the Celestiana Festival,” Asla said, and both Willem and Gaylia nodded in agreement.
“Perhaps you are on to something,” Noramros said, holding his chin in his hand and stroking it in contemplation.
“A method to vanquish him should he indeed reappear needs to be researched,” the prince suddenly put in. “Can you try to dig deeper?”
“I can try,” the mage replied with a nod, though a wary one. “But preparations need to be completed. We can't cancel everything and frighten the citizens.”
“Perhaps Moundmire should be searched, if that is where the attacking creatures are coming from,” said Willem.
“Of course, but we also need to be prepared in case he has returned,” Asla said, looking at the youth. “Failure to do so could have much more dire consequences.”
“Agreed,” Noramros said with another nod.
“I will go,” said the prince, and everyone suddenly turned an incredulous look on him.
“Alone?” Willem asked.
“You think me mad,” Farrln replied, turning his own incredulous look on the crusader.
“I think the notion slightly mad, perhaps.”
“We don't think it mad at all, Your Highness,” Asla quickly began, “but a member of royalty should at least have an honor guard if entering into enemy territory.”
“I did not intend to go alone,” Farrln said with a shake of his head. “I would bring members of our forces along, but if you would accompany me, all the better. You know more of this for than I and I would appreciate your assistance.”
“Your Highness, with Lady Caraliss' permission, we would be honored to travel with you.” Farrln nodded to the monk and began to turn for the exit.
“Then let us see about this permission.”
The prince left the hall, with the others following closely after, and went to the audience hall where his parents and Lady Caraliss were in the midst of a conversation. Despite their ongoing talks, the prince walked right in, and if the group inside were offended by his sudden entrance, they gave no indication.
“Mother. Father. Lady Caraliss. I have heard from Master Noramros about the threat that Baenril Wolvesmaw presents. The Watchers have determined that it may be in best interest to look into the situation at Moundmire.”
“That is a matter we have discussed,” Caraliss said with a nod. “It is a wise course and one I encourage.”
“I would go as well,” said the prince and Karrashiva sharply turned to regard him closely. “If the kingdom is threatened, I have as much duty as you or any other to assist.”
The queen stared at her son for a long moment and when Farrln did not look away, she settled back in her chair.
“You are old enough. You have your training. If you wish to go, then go.”
The prince gave a small smile at his mother's approval, though Willem only looked on at the spectacle in silence. He didn't miss the dangerous look that Karrashiva gave Asla, marking him as the target of her ire should Farrln come to great harm. Asla didn't miss it, either, and gave a humble bow.
“Your Majesty, we will do our utmost to ensure his safety. My Lady Caraliss, do you know if we can get closer to Moundmire by a faster route than a month on horses? I doubt we have the time to spare.”
“I can transport you there,” the mage replied. “I will spend the night crafting an item to carry you back.”
“Thank you, my Lady.”
“At first light, then,” Karrashiva said, folding her hands. “You may all stay the night here at the castle. I will have accommodations prepared for you.”
The group collectively bowed and took that as a dismissal for the evening. As they made their way to one of the sitting rooms to wait, led by Farrln, they wondered what would be waiting for them at Moundmire Castle and how tangled was the web they had just stumbled into.
