Session #70 (part (ii)
Osilem, the 17th of Ter – 565 H.E.
The great clang of the tunnel gate rising into position as dawn arrived on the mountain pass echoed as the Keepers of the Gate made their way back into Nikar. Etan dragged his feet as he walked, and complained that his head hurt and wanted a drink.
The inner portcullis was still closed when the party arrived, so they approached a smaller gated door in the gate. On the other side were two dwarven guards; one of which immediately took off when he saw the party approaching.
“We have a prisoner,” Kazrack explained to the guard, when the party was told they would not be allowed through until the captain of the guard arrived. “He is involved in the goings-on in the cemetery. We were coming to speak to the captain, and to the Council as well, if we could, as we have discovered some things that bare investigation.”
“Then you will not mind waiting,” the guard replied, and then realizing his rudeness to a rune-thrower, he added. “I’m sure you can understand the need to follow protocol, brother rune-thrower.”
Kazrack nodded.
“I have to warn you,” Ratchis growled to the party in a low voice, as they hung back to wait. “The captain of the guard does not like me very much, and he is likely to take anything I say in the worse possible light.”
They had to wait nearly an hour before the other guard returned with an older dwarf, Captain Marno Lodestone. Lodestone had a curling beard, like tarnished steel, and cold blue eyes that stared from behind the shadow of his gray bushy eyebrows. Despite beong obviously much older than Kazrack, his shoulders were as wide, but his furrowed and cracked brow showed his age the most.
“Send them through one at a time, starting with the dwarf,” the captain ordered his guards. Ratchis noticed the captain’s eyes fell heavily on him.
Kazrack spied the dwarven captain’s fine suit of chainmail, and cruel-looking hammer at his side. The older dwarf chewed on his lower lip.
“You’re Delver, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Kazrack replied.
“I understand you went up to the Garden of Stones to stir things up?”
“No, sir… I mean, yes, sir… I mean, we went up there, but not to stir things up, but to investigate the disturbances we had heard of,” Kazrack tried to explain.
“Without the leave of the Council,” Kazrack was not sure if this was a question or a statement.
“Um…”
“Do you often do whatever you like in the lawful jurisdiction of a recognized ruling body?” the Captain asked.
“We didn’t realize we needed to ask permission,” Kazrack replied.
The Captain grunted his disapproval.
“We have been spending a lot of time in the wilderness, and before that as contracted helpers for the king of Gothanius, so in both places we have taken a lot initiative. I apologize if the law required us to alert the Council first.”
The Captain grunted again.
“We did discover some strange things going on and there seems to be some wizard manipulating the youth of this town,” Kazrack continued. “It would be prudent for the Council to investigate. We captured one of the youths. It seems they are being encouraged to take the guise of undead. And we have collected some dubious items that might aid this…”
“You can rest assured that the Council
will investigate this, and that we are already looking into the allegations and dealing with them in appropriate manner without interfering adventurers, especially a group led by a rapist pig-f*cker that no one wanted back here,” Lodestone spat. (1)
“Captain, I mean no disrespect, but I do not appreciate you characterizing my companion, D’nar, as I call him, like that,” Kazrack said. “Despite his blood, he is a good person dedicated to what is right.”
Marno Lodestone spat.
“Who you choose for friends, however unwise, is your own business. What you do in my town is mine,” He turned to one of the dwarven guards. “Send the watch-mage through next, and grab their
prisoner while you are at it.”
One by one the members of the Keepers of the Gate were brought through the gate, as the Captain looked each one of them up and down and asked their names, though he seemed to already know them all. The guards held the whimpering Eton between them. More guards, among them two humans, came out of the guardhouse and collected the corpses from out in the tunnel.
Martin passed over the magical items they had collected from the psuedo-undead.
“Be ready to make yourselves available to the Council for an inquiry,” Lodestone said to them. “And any other trouble you get yourselves into will not be taken lightly. That goes double for those of you with records.”
Ratchis stared at the dwarven captain defiantly.
“And get those damn weapon peace-knotted,” the captain added and dismissed them.
Nikar was just beginning to awaken as the party went their separate ways. Ratchis made his way to Mercy’s house, while Roland and Kazrack returned to their respective temples. Martin, Dorn and Gunthar went to their suite at the inn. The first to study some new spells and prepare for training, while the other two just wanted to sleep.
Tholem, the 18th of Ter – 565 H.E.
The next day Dorn and Martin found Gunthar had not returned the night before.
“Probably with that gnome girl,” Dorn said with a wink to the watch-mage. Martin frowned.
They headed down to the common room to get a morning meal. They had barely reached the bottom of the stairs, when Martin remembered a book he had wanted to peruse over breakfast in preparation for the beginning of his studies with Vaysalia. He asked Dorn to order something for him and he hurried back upstairs to retrieve the book. As he came around the corner, he spotted Gunthar coming out of the suite room, closing the door carefully behind him.
“What are you doing?” Martin asked.
Gunthar leapt, startled. He spun around. “Don’t sneak up on a guy!”
“Where have you been?” Martin asked. “What were you doing in the room? You weren’t here afew minutes ago. Where did you come from?”
The watch-mage looked up and down the narrow hall. At the far end it turned to the left, and there was a window on both ends, and five other doors, one of which he knew led to the only other set of suite rooms in the Inn of Friendly Flame.
“I uh… started opening the door when I realized you guys might still be sleeping, so I closed it back quietly to not wake you, deciding to get some friggin’ breakfast,” Gunthar said, his voice gaining confidence as each word came out. “What are you, me dad? If so, let me know I have an overdue appointment with yer Ma.”
“You are so foul,” Martin sneered, going past the Neergaardian to enter the suite. “Anyway, Dorn and I are having breakfast below. I am just going to get a book. You can join us if you like.”
Gunthar turned towards the stairs.
Martin closed the door behind him and looked around. He was certain something was different. He stepped into the rear bedroom and immediately noticed that his bed, which had been immaculately made not too long before was now slightly ruffled.
He walked over and knelt beside the bed and lifted the cover. Beneath, beside his spare set of boots, were three black metal vases with hinged metal covers sealed with wax.
Martin dragged one out. It was heavy. He broke the wax with his dagger and then pried it open with the blade. Martin’s eyes opened wide. Within, the vase was a black shiny mineral-like powder. There was a faint smell of magnesium to it. Closing the vase back up, he hefted it and brought it over to Gunthar’s bed, and he slid it beneath. He did the same with the other two.
A few moments later, Martin the Green came down to see two dwarven town guards had just come into the common room from the outside. They walked over to talk with Huggert.
Dorn was sitting alone.
“Where’s Gunthar?” Martin asked.
“I don’t know I haven’t seen him,” Dorn shrugged.
“Martin the Green?” the two dwarven guards had walked over to their table.
“Yes?”
----------------------------------------
Ratchis and Mercy were eating lunch at her house when suddenly Gunthar came banging at the door.
“Let me in! Let me in!”
“It’s open,” Mercy said, rolling her eyes and then winking at Ratchis.
The Neergaardian warrior came in hurriedly and slammed the door behind him and slipped the bolt.
“You gotta hide me! I want sanctuary,” Gunthar demanded, his eyes darting around for a place to hide.
“What have you done now?’ Ratchis asked casually.
“I ain’t done nothing,” Gunthar swore. “All I know is I was stopping back by the inn to get some more coin, and as I entered the common room I heard some town guards asking about me, and where I might be. The damn bartender pointed right at me, but I think I ducked out before they got a good look.”
“You led them here?” Anger crept into Mercy’s voice. She walked over to the window and looked out from behind the curtain. At that same moment, there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll take care of this,” Ratchis said, opening the door. There stood two dwarven town guards in chain mail, holding halberds at their side.
“You are the half-blood, Ratchis of Nephthys?” one of the guards asked.
“Yes.”
“You are summoned before the Ruling Council of Nikar. You are to come immediately,” the guard continued. “If any of your other companions are here with you, they are summoned as well.”
Ratchis looked back inside to see Gunthar peeking out from behind Mercy, where he was crouched.
“Gunthar, you’re an idiot,” Ratchis barked. “Come on.”
Gunthar stood and came out, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
The half-orc and the Neergaardian followed the two guards to the Council Hall.
As they came past the four marble columns, into the tiled lobby of the building, they noticed that Dorn and Martin were being escorted in as well. They were led through a set of large oaken doors carved with a stylistic rendition of the town’s charter. Beyond was a round theatre-like chamber. Upon a dais was a long and high table, behind which sat eight figures. Several rows of tiered seating faced the dais, at the front Roland and Kazrack already sat.
Narrow windows at the ceiling sent wedge-shaped beams of light across the room, illuminating it. The whole place was dressed with marble and white tapestries. A burgundy flag hung above the dais. It showed the sigil of Nikar, a stylized silver icon of a fortified town upon a mountain.
Captain Marno Lodestone stood at the bottom of the stairs to the dais and called up as they approached down the aisle. “Come and take some seats in the front!”
The Captain walked up onto the dais and took the last empty seat, near the right side.
“Welcome to this special session of the Nikar Ruling Council on all Lawful Matters,” said a tall man with a sallow look and yellowed skin. He had scrubby graying hair, and long fingers with swollen joints. He opened his mouth widely when he talked, enunciating every word very slowly. “This session was called by Council Member Marno Lodestone. Which other two did affirm his request?” (2)
“I have,” said a woman in a high-collared long-sleeved lavender dress. She wore a veil of purple silk over her face. She sat near the center of the table.
“As have I,” said a brown-haired dwarf with a cropped beard that made Kazrack uncomfortable to look at. He had a weathered face and narrow eyes. He had a burn scar where his right eyebrow should have been.
“Let the record show that honored council members Coral Humilia and Grad Almondach have seconded the opening of this special session,” the tall thin man said. “Now, Councilor Lodestone, will you re-acquaint us with the matter at hand.”
“This group, alternately calling themselves ‘the Fearless Manticore Killers’ and the ‘Keepers of the Gate’,” the Captain began. “Have admitted to entering the Garden of Stones and attacking young townspeople, who while misdirected in their actions would have been better served to have been brought in by the lawful authority to pay for any crimes they might have been committing.”
“So you are accusing them of doing what you and our own town guard should have been doing?” said a woman with her black hair in two thick braids on either side of her head, and several smaller beaded braids in the middle. She had bronze skin and large brown eyes. She wore a shoulder-less white dress decorated with golden buttons that matched the fancy golden comb in her hair. She wore a silver ankh about her neck, it was etched with a quarter moon.
“Councilor Lydia,” A the chubby figure in green robes at the right end of the table began. He was bald except for tufts of black hair behind each ear, and a well-kept goatee. His face was flush, though he smiled when he spoke. It was Mylor. (3) “You know very well that you have done your best to block Councilor Lodestone every time he has petitioned the council to set up a permanent guard in the cemetery while the monks of Anubis are absent.”
“Some things are the jurisdiction of a church, not this council,” Lydia replied.
The tall thin man hammered his gavel down.
“We are here to get to the bottom of the events of the night previous,” the man, who’s name was Yeeger Salamander, a local merchant that owned a controlling interest in the town salt mine, said. “Any other items need to be added to the regular agenda by the normal means. Now…”
He paused.
A cleanly dressed young man in a gray jacket and a black bowtie, wearing spectacles entered the room and climbed up to the dais, putting some papers down in front of Yeeger. Martin recognized him as the man he had seen lurking around outside of Daphne’s house.
As if she could read his mind, Daphne entered the chambers and sat on the other side of the aisle from the party with some people Martin could only assume were the rest of the Council’s staff.
Councilor Salamander looked up from reading the papers. “Yes, well… We will ask that you accompany my aide to a waiting room and we will see you one at a time. Roland of Bast, you may stay as we will question you first.”
One by one the members of the party were questioned by the Council; after each of them were done they were led to a different room from where the others were waiting to be questioned.
“Roland, my dear, how ever did you get involved with this rag-tag band of questionable origins?” the woman in behind the veil, Coral Humilia asked, familiarly.
“I met the half-orc, Ratchis through Mercy of Nephthys,” Roland replied.
“Oh,
Mercy,” Coral said, scathingly.
“Mercy is a lovely girl, definitely her parents’ child, I would take her vouchsafe on these fellows,” Lydia said, smiling.
“Hmph,” Lodestone cleared his throat and looked at Roland, frowning. “And why would you take part in so-called ‘adventuring’ activities when as a resident you know the restrictions on those kinds of things without the approval of the Council. I am sure you are aware of the town’s history?”
“Yes, Captain Lodestone, I am aware of what happened,” (4) Roland said, allowing just the slightest bit of annoyance to creep into his otherwise polite tone. “But it is not what it seems. My new companions lost one of their number on the journey here; a paladin dedicated to Anubis. And they felt they owed it to his memory to check out the cemetery and make sure it was not being desecrated. We were only going to look around when we were attacked.”
“Only going to look around? All fully armed and armored?” Lodestone asked.
“It is a dangerous world, Captain,” Roland replied smugly.
“Know one knows it better than I do,” the Captain said, gruffly.
They then asked Roland to retell the events in the cemetery in his own words and then he was excused. Kazrack was called in next.
Asked to tell of the event of two nights ago, Kazrack began with an anecdote from his childhood and then began to explain the series of events that led him to return to Derome-Delem. He had gotten as far as the death of Malcolm when he was interrupted.
“Is there a point to this?” asked Councilor Almondach, the hill dwarf.
“Excuse me, sir, I just wanted to make sure you understood all the circumstances that led to my companions and I arriving at the cemetery the night before last. Surely, only with a full set of facts can any decision be reached,” Kazrack said.
“Anyway, I most indeedly did like that story very much! Oh yes, the goblin witch-doctor, very scary!” the gnome sitting beside Lydia said. He had wispy golden hair, and skin like rich black earth, with a prodigious nose that held spectacles of very thick glass. He wore a green coat and a yellow shirt, and his soft maroon boots were up on the table, as he leaned back in his chair. But now he leaned back forward and pointed at Kazrack. “But carry on, what about this Crumb fellow? He seems like rather a shady fellow.”
“As entertaining and informative as this is, I think we are going to have insist that master Kazrack skip ahead to the events in question. We all have busy schedules that we had to put aside for this meeting,” Mylor said with affected exhaustion in his voice.
“Yes, I think it suffice to ask about your companion…” Lydia looked down at her notes. “Beorth? Yes, that is it. And what he has to do with what happened the other night.”
“He had nothing to do with it,” Kazrack said. “He was lost on the journey here from Gothanius, but if he had been with us he might have given us better instruction on how to handle the situation, the undead being his area of expertise… destroying them, not commanding them or creating them or anything like that…”
“Is it safe to say that if Beorth were still with you he would have known more about local laws and this type of thing, being a paladin?” Lydia asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Lodestone.
“Obviously, this group was used to relying on their former companion for direction in terms of obeying the law, or I should say the regulations of our multi-racial charter, as I would not presume to tell you honorable rune-thrower about dwarven law,” Lydia motioned to Kazrack. The dwarf stood and bowed awkwardly. “In the grief and confusion of losing him, they cannot be expected to follow the letter of a law they were probably never properly informed of by your bullying guards. And in the end, what harm have they done?”
“This is no time to impugn the integrity of the townguard, Councilor Lydia,” said the halfling sitting at the far left of the table. He smoked a pipe, and had long brown curly locks that he had to brush out of his eyes repeatedly. He was very very fat, and his name was Reed Flapcorn. “Though I have to agree with you that along with the testimony of that Eton boy, this is much ado about nothing, and I have a batch of my brew just a day away from perfect maturation, I should be tasting it by the hour, not here with your usual crusade against adventurers.”
“So, Master Kazrack, what is your answer?” Lydia asked.
“Um, I am not sure what the question is, ma’am,” Kazrack replied, confusedly.
“Would you have investigated the cemetery if not for your former companion, Beorth?”
“I never thought twice about human cemeteries or monks of Anubis or any of that before I met Beorth.”
“I am satisfied with his testimony,” Lydia said.
“But he hasn’t said anything yet,” complained Captain Lodestone.
“I think between what he has said and the fact that High Priest Bedkorak spoke up for him is enough for us,” said Lydia.
“I agree,” said the other dwarf.
Lodestone sighed, and then excused Kazrack.
“Oh, and come down to Fizzlepop’s some night and you can finish your story, I’ll buy you an ale or twelve,” the gnome called to Kazrack as the dwarf left. “Just ask around for me, I’m Tromaglerhammergleengloventart, also known as the Mayor of the Gnomish Quarter.”
“That title has no meaning by the by-laws and charter of Nikar,” added Yeeger in his flat voice.
Dorn was questioned next and after him came Martin the Green.
“First, Martin, I would like to say I am glad to finally meet you, though these are not the ideal circumstances. I am sure we will have a time to talk when this is all over,” Lydia said with a bright smile. Daphne waved at Martin as she came up beside the priestess to take away from papers that had just been signed.
“I am sorry if our ignorance led us to violate any local statutes,” Martin replied. “But regardless of the circumstances, it is always a pleasure to meet a lady of the cloth of Isis.”
“Were you acting on the orders of the Academy of Wizardry, which I assume you represent, when you came to Nikar to investigate the cemetery?” the Captain was right down to business.
“Well, I do in a way represent the Academy in terms of my actions; thus I always seek to act ethically, but in terms any specific reason that I am in Nikar, or that my companions and I went to investigate the undead sightings in the Garden of Stones has no direct connection to the Academy.”
“And why did you come to Nikar?” asked the extremely gaunt elf sitting to the left of Mylor.. The elf’s hair was a long bluish-black tied back, and his skin had an alabaster sheen to it. He had long sharp features without a crease or wrinkle that still seemed to suggest a great age. He had big green eyes. It was Sherinian Felestas, who Martin had met a few days before and had done business with. (5)
“I came specifically to seek training and lore that would help in my larger mission,” Martin replied. “As did the rest of my companions.”
“As did the one called Gunthar Northrop?” asked the golden-haired gnome.
“Um, yes… I believe he was also, uh… especially looking forward to some rest and relaxation,” Martin smiled weakly, but the gnome returned a broad smile, and twisted the ends of his mustache.
“Martin, would you characterize the items you found on these false undead to be evil item?” Lydia asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Martin replied. “The people who wielded them appeared as undead while using them and displayed powers characteristically that of undead.”
“Do you remember whose idea it was first to go to the cemetery?” Lodestone asked.
“Um… we kind of came to the idea as a group,” Martin said. “Though I read the news here in the Council Hall about the undead, and it was Roland that informed us about the youth spending their nights in the cemetery.”
“And how did he find out?” Mylor asked.
“I do not know,” Martin said. “But I assumed it was merely rumors about town.”
“Do you often take actions based on rumors heard in town without affirming them with the just authority of the town you reside in?” Captain Lodestone asked angrily.
“It was an error in judgment,” Martin replied.
“You met with Councilor Mylor several days ago, did you not?” asked Sherinian Felestas.
“Uh, yes… briefly…”
“Why did you not confer with him then about this plan of yours?” the elf continued.
“I did not know then that the group wanted to go look into it.”
“So it
was someone else’s idea?” asked Captain Lodestone. “Perhaps the half-orc’s?”
“No more his idea than anyone else’s,” replied Martin.
“What, may I ask, is your central mission? I assume it is at the behest of the Academy?” asked Mylor, sitting up straight and smoothing his green and yellow silk robes.
“Well, it was because of what I was doing at the behest of the Academy that I got involved in what my companions and I are trying to fix,” Martin said, cryptically.
“And that is?”
“I cannot divulge that, for reasons that should be clear. It is dangerous for me and for others for too many people to know, and certainly not as part of a public record.”
“Yes…”
“How convenient,” said Lodestone.
“Martin, did you get to examine the items you and your companions retrieved from the slain?” Lydia asked, her tone was never less than friendly, and at times become almost motherly.
“Only cursorily,” Martin replied. “They seem to be of evil make though and have necromantic and transmutative energies bound to them.”
“Yes, they do. Mylor and I both independently verified that,” she shot the necromancer a disapproving look. “So now I must ask you straight out, what do you think is happening?”
“Well, I have been thinking it over as I have been waiting, and I really cannot make much sense of it,” Martin began. “If someone wanted to take advantage of the monks absence to rob graves or even the monastery itself why create undead and draw undue attention? And why attract youths there to recruit? Except perhaps to make more undead, but it still not clear if the ghouls Kazrack destroyed upon entering the cemetery were working for this Wharvis person, for they did seem to be after Eton. Speaking of Eton, what did he say?”
“That is not part of the public record of yet,” Lodestone answered abruptly.
Lydia sighed, “The misdirected young man did not give much in the way of useful testimony. It seems he was inebriated during most of his meetings with Wharvis.”
“But what about the monks?” asked Tromaglerhammergleengloventart. “The ones your companion, Gunthar claimed to have seen.”
“You’ve spoken to Gunthar?” asked Martin, confused because he knew Gunthar still waited to be questioned.
“Huh?” the so-called Mayor of the Gnomish Quarter coughed and looked around nervously. “No. The sighting of the monks by Gunthar was mentioned by Roland of Bast.”
“There has been no word of monks coming through the east gate,” the Captain said. “I think the monks are a ruse.”
“They could have come up through the south gate by way of the western road,” Reed Flapcorn offered.
“Gunthar did say they were leaving that way,” Martin added.
“What do you plan to do about this Wharvis next?” Lydia asked.
“Honestly, now that the Council is taking an active interest in this, I would rather concentrate on my studies, and do not plan to pursue it unless, of course, the Council needed my aid in some way,” Martin replied.
“And your companions? Do they plan to do the same?” Captain Lodestone asked, accusingly.
“I believe they would,” Martin said. “Our hearts are all heavy with the tasks before us that just may claim our lives. We have much preparation to do… But again, we will help if help is needed.”
“Thank you, Martin. It may come to that, but we shall see,” replied Lydia. “Though I would like to help you with your tasks, if I can. After these proceedings, wait until after and we will talk.”
Mylor sneered.
Gunthar was sent for after Martin was shown out to the other waiting area, and finally it was Ratchis’ turn.
“It makes my heart heavy to have to see you again under these circumstances,” Lydia said to the half-orc. “Perhaps it is too soon for you to be back?”
“Some folk don’t know when to stay gone when they got the chance to be gone,” Captain Lodestone spat.
“Common beasts know no better, their noses lead them back to where they were fed.” Mylor held a kerchief to his face.
Yeeger hammered his gave down twice. “Ratchis Orc-blood was exonerated of his previous charges and there was no official exile. The unfortunate events of the past have no bearing on this case.”
“Or do they?” Lodestone stood, suddenly very angry. “Perhaps this orc-blood can tell us what he knows of Mortimor Karlton?”
“Who?” asked Ratchis, though there was something about the name.
“Oh, so you claim to not know who that is?” Lodestone asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. Could it have been someone I worked with at the mine?”
“You know very well that it wasn’t,” Lodestone replied. “Mortimor Karlton is the nephew of Bevis Karlton.” (6)
“Oh.” Ratchis was quiet for a long moment. “Has something happened to Mortimor?”
“So, you do know him?” Reed, the halfling asked.
“No, but I assume something must have happened or the Captain would not be looking at me as if I had killed someone.”
”You did kill someone,” Mylor said. “At least three someones, and you took their things and brought it to us; that is why we are here.”
“Mortimor is among the missing young people of the town,” Lydia said. “There were two before, and now Mortimor and Tanya who were with Eton in the cemetery the night you found him there.”
“You think I went to the cemetery because I knew Mortimor was there?” Ratchis asked incredulously. “And that I brought my party with me, the ranks of which include a watch-mage and a dwarven priest, to go get revenge on someone through their nephew?”
“We do not all think so,” Lydia replied.
“And it does not seem very likely… No, No, No it doesn’t. Uh-uh.” Said the gnome councilor, rubbing the end of his nose with a calloused finger, as he shook his head back and forth.
“As much as I detest his beastly kind, it does seem far-fetched,” Mylor said, the sound of disgust never leaving his haughty voice. “I think we have wasted enough time here.”
“Ratchis, you may join your companions and then you will all be called back in for our decision,” Lydia said, with a smile.
------------------------------------
It was less and a half hour later when they were all called back. They spent the time discussing what they had been asked, and what they had said, except for Gunthar who was unusually quiet.
They stood before the dais.
“Keepers of the Gate,” Yeeger began, slapping his gavel on the table once half-heartedly. “We have discussed the issue at hand and have come to the following conclusion. Councilor Lydia, if you will.”
“We have decided not to hold you on any of these deaths, in light of your returning the cursed items and the corpses, and of course cooperating with this inquiry,” Lydia said, smiling. “However, we are going to have to officially ask that you do not continue your own independent inquiry into the goings on in the cemetery, and that you avoid any and all so-called ‘adventuring’ activities in the area of Nikar, or using this town as a base. If we need your help, or need you for further questioning we will contact you.”
“But please let me remind you that you will be watched and you will be held responsible for any and all damages done to the town or its populace that happens while others seek retaliation or revenge upon you,” Captain Lodestone added in his gravely voice.
“Any questions?” Yeeger Salamander asked.
The party had no response.
“Very well, then, you are free to go,” Yeeger said.
The Council began to disperse.
“I’m going ta have a friggin’ drink,” Gunthar said.
“Good idea,” said Roland, following him out.
“I must return to the temple. I have duties tonight,” Kazrack said.
Lydia came around the table and off the dais and approached Martin and Ratchis. Dorn hung back.
“Martin, I am so sorry that we were so delayed in meeting,” Lydia said, putting her hand out daintily. Martin shook it. “Please come by my house tomorrow for lunch and we will discuss how I can help you. I have ever been a friend of the Academy of Wizardry, and I know Alexandra the Lavender well.”
“Thank you,” Martin said.
“Lady Lydia, I was hoping I might speak to you a moment alone,” Ratchis asked, trying to sound as gentle as possible. The priestess of Isis was taken aback and momentarily frowned. Ratchis could not tell if it was surprise or disgust. He looked over at Martin, who excused himself.
Lydia shifted uncomfortably, and looked at Ratchis and then down at the floor.
“Uh, I was wondering if you knew what ever happened to Madaline,” Ratchis asked meekly. “I mean, is she still in town.”
Lydia looked up at Ratchis with pity in her brown eyes. “Do you not think that some thing are best left alone? She left long ago, and I do not know where, but her husband, he is still around somewhere.”
Ratchis looked down dejectedly, and left.
End of Session #70
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Notes:
(1) See
the Story of Ratchis.
(2) The Ruling Council of Nikar requires at least two of the remaining eight members to affirm the call for a special session for the group to actually meet.
(3) See Session #68
(4) In 558 H.E. a feud between rival powerful adventuring parties in the central tier led to the death of several townsfolk and structural damage to several buildings.
(5) See Session #68
(6) Bevis Karlton was the man who’s wife accused Ratchis of raping her to hide the fact of their affair. (See
the Story of Ratchis)
