When Edward Speaks, People Listen.
Edward addresses the party, in a firm, authoritative voice. His "Mr. Nice Guy" facade is now glaringly ABSENT: "With all due respect to everyone involved, situations like this are exactly the reason that Sir Denby and I were appointed to keep order. We've dealt with this sort of thing before. There's always a vigilante in the "mob" that wants to hang the suspect immediately, or rough him up for information, and there's always a zealot that wants to chain himself to a tree in protest. So from here on out, the interrogation of this man will be conducted by Sir Denby, the rightful authority in this matter. The Domain of Dyvers is grateful for your assistance, but this matter is in our hands now. Does anyone here have a problem with that?"
Edward does not wait for a response; and he is quick to add: "He is already guilty of the reckless endangerment of Domain of Dyvers citizenry, and of assaulting a duly appointed officer of the Domain of Dyvers. And depending on the outcome of this interrogation, he may yet be found guilty of conspiracy against the sovereignty of the Domain of Dyvers. We've hung people for a lot less than that. That may as of yet be this man's fate; My lord, you may begin at your liesure."
Denby beams proudly at his deputy, then turns his gaze toward the Man In Green, and says: "Did you hear what my deputy said? If you tell us the truth, you might get off with hard labor. If, on the other hand, you choose not to cooperate, you will be placed on trial in the coming week, in front of the Dyvers Tribunal, which is governed by Lord Margull himself. He doesn't have a track record of letting criminals off easy. You should know that, if you've ever spent any time in this region. He takes a dim view of conspirators against his officers."
Father Xavier bows to Sir Denby, and excuses himself from the proceedings, without saying another word. He leaves the black box on the tea table.
The Man in Green swallows audibly, and confesses: "My name is Beringer Crestwall. I am a distant relation to the Crestwall family of the Dyvers Gentry. I say this so that when I am dead, they will not think ill of me, and so that the honor of the family will remain intact. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I want to state now, that no other person of Crestwall lineage was involved. I acted of my own accord. I swear this before St. Cuthbert, as the whole, unblemished truth."
As he speaks, no green mist is seen upon his lips. It is obvious that he is truthful.
He continues: "I am a soldier of fortune, and a spy, and a courier for hire. I am in the business of selling information to the highest bidder, and I am also in the business of delivering packages of unknown contents from one place to another, with the utmost discretion. The acquisition of wealth, through the application of my skills, has always been both my primary motivation, and my primary means of maintaining my livelihood."
Beringer sighs heavily. "This all began with him," he says, indicating Sir Denby. "I didn't know who he was. I had been living in Greyhawk for the last 10 years, so I wasn't up on who the current Sheriff was. In fact, my contact, a Half-Orc named Shem, told me that Sir Denby (he called him "Theodosius") was a criminal, an ex-employee who owed him money. I was to lay in ambush for him with a potion and a ring. Shem said that I should throw the potion at the horse's feet, and then slip the ring onto his finger when he and the horse were asleep. I did what I was paid to do; the potion was actually a sleep bomb. When I threw it, the bottle exploded into a mass of vapors, which put both him and his horse instantly to sleep. I walked over, slipped the ring onto his finger, and as I did so, his form changed, from his previous appearance, to what you see now. When that happened, I knew something was wrong! I fled, and confronted Shem about it. He simply laughed, and paid me my wages, telling me to forget what I had seen. He said that he was from the Seventh Order, and that those who betray The Order face not only death, but the utter damnation of those who die without a soul. But he didn't need to make the threat; Shem didn't know it, but I already knew all about The Seventh Order. I was warned early in my career to avoid employment with them. They are Warlocks, men who lie with Devil-kind in return for the promise of power. They serve a hidden master, who is said to be Half-Fiend / Half-Vampire. He is said to have eyes everywhere. They call him Grimlok, The Usurper. No one knows his true name; at any rate, Shem told me that I had one, final task to complete: I was to watch the man until he killed someone, and then speak the words, "Scarlet Soul." He said that I did not need to say it loudly, nor did I need to be anywhere nearby."
Beringer turns to Edward, and says: "That's when I knew that the man I had attacked was innocent. That's when I figured out they were trying to frame him. I thought it strange that they were so certain that he would try to commit a murder, until I realized that he might be forced to do so, by some foul enchantment laid upon that ring; AND THAT," he says, staring straight at Denby, "is when I decided to try and help you. I am used to dealing with criminals. And I would have had no qualms helping to frame someone who deserved it. But I have never in my career exploited the innocent for money. I know that you all don't believe that such a code of honor excuses my crimes. But I want you to know, that as twisted as you might think it to be, I do have and follow a code of honor. I was watching the Sheriff's office because I was awaiting an opportunity to warn you. I didn't know if Shem had any contacts within the town government, so I was trying to catch you alone. When I noticed I was being followed, I panicked; I thought you fellows were Shem's henchmen."
A single tear rolls down Beringer's cheek; "If you're willing to trust me, I can turn you back to your true form. I suspect that the ring doesn't even need to be worn for its powers to work. I know how people like this operate; items like this are complex, and work on a much higher level than a simple contingency. They are prepared for the event that, for some unforeseen reason, you are not actually wearing the ring. You are already under the influence of its power; hence, you remain in the form that it forced upon you. It is my guess that if the ring is removed from the box, and the command words are spoken, you will be returned to your true form. To prove the veracity of my claim, I am willing to be the one who takes the risk. If you allow it, I will be the one who takes it from the box. And I will be the one to handle it. What say you?"
The absence of the green vapors is glaringly apparent.
Denby looks around the room, as if waiting to hear differing opinions.
[Everyone: What do you do?]