Chapter 13: Family, Responsibility, and Voyage (Continued)
Just so Yeti and Sirya don't hound me tomorrow...here's the next update an hour early
~Fune
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Tobias flashed Motega a questioning glance but it was Magnus, as was usual, that broke the silence. “I think we should tell the Captain that the Baronet will not even see family." The mage glanced through the Inn’s window as Lady Carnelloe and her entourage strode away. "There is something deeper afoot then just the Culites I think.
"If we can get the situation here straightened out, do you want to accompany the Lady? I see no harm in helping her, and it will allow us to scout the Northern lands. Did not the Captain say they were harder hit in that direction?" Magnus lowered his voice and hissed, "Also, I think we need to tell him about the mushrooms. They will need to be guarded against the Culites."
The mage raised his voice again, and took a long sip from his mug. "I think assisting the Lady will beneficial to both her and us." Fitz rolled his eyes, but Magnus could not see the gesture.
"Mage,” Motega growled, “As far as getting on a ship and helping this woman, you have pledged our services to the King. This is not something to be taken lightly. Then again, I do not like being toyed with.
“I say we talk to this Captain and have him excuse us from this mess once and for all if he truly speaks for the King. Culites be damned. Unlike you, I have no need for titles and care little for the politics here in Rhelm. If this woman's currency is good and she has a just cause, I say we sail out in the morning. If it is not just, we will exact payment by bedding her and her daughters." Tobias nearly spit his drink out. Fitz chortled.
The mage, however, looked almost insulted. "I have sworn none of you to the service of Rhelm; but, yes, I support my King. The Dwem attacks were an attack on our Kingdom, and apparently other countries from what we have heard.
“All I have done is for our own good, as well as Rhelm’s and even the Rorn’s.” The Rornman scoffed. Clearing his throat, Magnus continued, “Currently my goals lie in Rhelm's safety. I do not like what I'm hearing about the Baronet, yet I see this Lady Carnelloe as more than someone to bed like a savage."
The mage stared coldly at the Rorn. "In the Rorn, you have titles you respect just the same as here, like Chief of the Tribe or 'Son' of the Chief. By gaining title, we can lay claim to our own wealth with more than just might of arms. Sometimes one must use their head instead of their brawn.
"As long as we are called 'heroes', people will call for our aid. There lies our advantage. By gaining title now, we can collect more in reward later." He turned to Fitz, "Does not planting the seed in spring, bring a good harvest in the fall? How much more good can you do, if it weren't for the likes of Minor Nobles basically spitting on you in Dun Beric."
“Tobias, Justice could spread under your name.
“And, Motega,” the mage spit, as he lifted his glass with a rueful grin, "with title you can bed even more women as well as drink their husbands cellar's dry."
The ranger sputtered and grinned. He lifted his own mug and smashed it against the mage’s. As the two downed their drinks, Tobias interrupted, “Hear that?”
“Yes, horses,” Fitz replied. The cleric stood from the table, toppling his mug in the process. Hastily, he grabbed his scythe.
The door to the inn swung open again, with the Captain pouring through the doors in a suit of half-plate he had not worn in the first visit. “All right, good sirs,” he bellowed as he stepped twice toward their table. “I've let this damned Baronet stew long enough. Time to taste what's been simmering. Two letters and two messengers haven't got him to open his gates; let's see what we can do.”
The Captain did a precise pivot to leave and called over his shoulder, "You're welcome to come, but don't be provokin' anything. This is a probe, nothing more—I won't have more Rhelm blood spilled if I can help it.” He grinned as he patted his blade, “And I can."
Without waiting for a response, he turned back toward the door. He stepped out of the inn, ignoring the silence he had brought upon its customers.
The mage was the first to stand. “Well I'm going." He slid a wand into each of his bracers. “The Lady doesn't leave till tomorrow. There is plenty of time to both raid the castle and bed the women.” Tobias moved to silently follow. The paladin drew his blade with a barely noticeable shake of his head and a sigh.
“This is going to be interesting,” the priest murmured.
Motega stood and patted Fitz on the shoulder. "I am glad that the talk of bedding women got his interest, I was beginning to wonder about the boy. Thought he might continue where that ogre left off on poor Netto that day.” The two companions burst into laughter as they exited the inn.
* * *
"Master Burn, I presume?” The man was old and dressed only in fine robes. They looked hard worn, probably from recent travel but still held a fine cut with the King’s color embroidered upon the shoulder. “I do apologize, but I cannot scry a location. A person, if they are known to me, but not a location. Come now, and stay close."
"Yes, I am Magnus Burn, and no I didn't make the name up,” the mage blathered. “I was named after my grandfather and father; both were bakers in Victorsburg. Though I guess I did live up to it here, in Minetown." Magnus chuckled a bit. "It's good to see the man behind the 'eye' that was watching me."
“Yes, well. I was actually watching the Captain, not you,” the other wizard replied quickly with a curt grin. “You may call me Ebbem, not that you’ve asked.” He smiled again as they easily fell into a discourse on magic. Magnus was young, probably too young for the power he had amassed so far. Ebbem was quick to judge.
Still, with some training, Magnus could be great. Assuming of course, he lasted past his twentieth year. Ebbem sighed as he refocused the whole of his attention on the conversation…
* * *
Magnus and Ebbem quieted at a look from the Captain as the band of over twenty men approached the Baronet’s portcullis.
The Captain stepped toward the gates. He glanced through the bars and stepped a pace back. "Hail! I am Captain Dougal of the Stonetooth Lancers, sent and traveling under the order of King Gavanor Tyne, the Lord of Rhelm. I ask that you admit our party for discussions pertaining to the events that recently transpired here!" he bellowed. The Captain took another respectable step away, listening intently.
Around the party, only a slight wind whistled. No noises issued from the castle, which seemed deserted. No guardsmen approached the gates.
Dougal cleared his throat with a rough cough. “Baronet, we have word that you are quartered within but are ill. I assure you I mean only to discuss matters, and not pass judgment. That is not place, nor my station. I say again—open the gates!”
Again, no sound but the wind surrounded the group.
“Dammit!” Dougal shouted. “Lady Erica! Can you hear me? I know someone is within, listening. If there is trouble inside those walls, we will do what we can to solve it. I'll ask nicely...one...last...time!"
The Captain waited a minute for some response, any response. “Well, f*ck me red,” he murmured as he turned to look at his men. His eyes glanced through the ranks, focused on the Heroes and finally settled on Ebbem. “Nobody home?”
The wizard fumbled for a moment with his robes and removed out a glass eye. Carefully, he lifted it to his face, murmuring an incantation. His face dropped in color, becoming ashen. “T-trouble sir.”
"What kind of trouble, wizard? Speak!"
Ebbem opened his mouth, but vomited upon the ground. “Bodies in the courtyard,” he spat with a fat glob of phlegm. “Blood. Looks like they’ve been dead for awhile. Both soldiers and peasant folk, it looks like. They’ve been torn up fairly bad.”
"Can you move your sight around in there?"
"No, sir - only can rotate it around. The whole courtyard...it's a mess."
“The keep's gate? How is it?"
The wizard focused, nearly turning his head as his sensor swung about. "Closed. All the doors are closed. I don't see anything else in there. Nothing moving, at any rate."
Dougal cursed. His blade had crept into his hand, where it looked most natural. "Fine, we've got problems. I'm not one who like seeing good Rhelmsfolk lay butchered, and I'm really not one who likes seeing it without knowing who did it, or why. So, it's suggestion time. If you got something you wanna say, say it. Any of you."
“Well,” Fitz stated. “I did say this was going to be interesting…”
Magnus blurted, "With magical aid I can scout the area. Captain, I will allow your mage to scry on me only, I do not trust him or you well enough for anything more. Fitz can provide me with anything else I will need." The priest grumbled at the mention of his name.
“I’ll approve the plan,” Tobias added. “Take Motega, too. I don’t want you alone in there mage.” Dougal nodded.
Quickly, Magnus cast
fly and
haste on the Rornman. “Over the fence, unlock the gates, and scout ahead but not too far,” he suggested as he began his own
spider climb incantation. “Ebbem, were they butchered or slashed with a blade?”
Dougal’s mage sighed as he glanced into the glass eye again. “Looks like…they were shredded. I’m not sure; I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ll wish you hadn’t either,” he spit as he pulled the eye away.
The Rornman half-leapt, half-flew over the wall as the two mages conversed. He landed silently in a crouch and rolled forward. His eyes scanned several of the nearby carcasses. The wounds were jagged tears, deep. Each body had died with fear etched onto its face, permanently. Motega sniffed the air but caught no unusual scents.
The mage was quick to ascend the wall. He dropped, not nearly as quietly but quietly enough, next to the Rorn.
“The pack did not do this,” Motega murmured. “If my nature is discovered, it could be bad for all of us. If there is…incriminating evidence, I’d like to keep that from the Captain.”
“Your secrets are safe with me.” The mage leaned down and lifted a strange feather betwixt his fingers. “"Let us find out what happened here, I have a couple of
fireballs to cover your retreat if you need. I will stay about sixty feet behind you or within sight. Hopefully we can find out what happened.
“Let’s get those gates open, first.” The pair moved to a large device around which a length of chain was tightly bonded. Motega did most of the pushing. The chain lurched around the spindle, lifting the portcullis slowly.
Once the gate was high enough, Tobias and Fitz strode into the courtyard. The paladin held his blade in his hands and upon his face was a stern gaze. He turned his head left and right, scanning the distance.
Magnus looked at Fitz and asked, “Will Ceria let you speak with one of them today? Try, if you can. I’m going to assist Motega.”
“I cannot today, mage.” Fitz grumbled.
Dougal and his men flooded into the courtyard to surround Fitz and Tobias as Magnus and Motega stalked deeper within the walls of the castle…
