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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3568449" data-attributes="member: 11760">The riders -- minus Ragglus Chaplin, who quietly slipped away from the others back in Foxton on Moss -- reach Middleborough in the gray light of the false dawn and find that the baron's soldiers and staff are all awake and on the move, and have been for some time. Whatever Khenemet-Apep told the baron, it got his attention: Armed guards are on the cobblestone streets and pairs of soldiers are moving up and down each of them, peeking into pigpens, sticking spears into the hay of stables. Commoners are standing in the street, bleary-eyed, as soldiers search their homes for the fugitives.The constable reins up at the Shady Dragon Inn and, making eye contact with Deputy Gallaway, points at the door."Take them inside. Get them a room if need be; the gnome will need to be fresh when the baron summons him to court. I'm going to speak with the sheriff and see where we're needed."With that, he gives the reins a jerk and gallops off towards the sheriff's station, sending commoners scrambling to get out of his way.The group tumbles off their horses, with Bufer grumbling something about being called "the gnome," but no one can understand him, and after the night they've had, they don't have the energy anyway.Half an hour later, Emmerson steps out into the street, intent on his belated prayers, when the realization of where he is hits him like a thunderbolt, his eyes falling on St. Yessid's in the Woods, where he first took his vows when he joined Order of St. Chausle as a paladin.Even at this early hour, the doors are open and lower-ranking members of the clergy are preparing for the day, sweeping the front step, lighting candles and setting out clean linens on the altars.Somewhere inside, the bishop is waiting.Upstairs, Tucker leans out the window of a rented room, staring at the streets of Middleborough. He's made few journeys to the biggest town in Midwood, and none of them have turned out well. He's not happy to be here.Bufer is behind a screen in the corner of the room, splashing about in the basin of water they had sent up."I don't know about gnomes," the deputy says, "But when you're little, human mothers are always after you to wear clean underclothes, in case you're run over by a horsecart. Never understood that, really. If I was about to be run over by a horsecart, I don't think my underclothes would stay clean for long. Anyway, point is, you'd better clean yourself up real well: If the wizard is as good a friend of the baron as he claims, this meeting might not end very well for anyone who's not him.""Hmm, I'd considered that, yeah," Bufer says, suppressing a yawn as he dries himself off, then wraps the towel around him. "Frankly I'm not expectin' my word to be worth much, even inside the zone of truth. I'll be right surprised if Khenemet-Apep don't wind up walkin' outta here with an apology and a handshake from the baron for his trouble. I think the best we can hope to do is listen sharp and learn as much about this 'Tiamat faction' as we can."The gnome comes out from behind the screen, water still dripping from the ends of his hair, which stick up at random angles from the sides of his head. He pads over to the chair over which his undertunic and sackcloth robe have been laid, and clucks to himself as he picks them up to examine them."Wish I'd had my pack on me when we left," he says, poking his finger through a moth-eaten hole in the side of his robe. "Would have had my fancy dress with me, then. Appearing before the baron and his holiness like this ain't gonna help matters."He heaves a sigh and turns to Tucker."Oh well, can't be helped. Listen, I'm gonna pray on things fer a bit, then try an' snatch a couple winks before we head off to court. Remind me later to take the lot of you down to my brothers' place, out by the mill, see if we can't scare ourselves up a decent meal before we all head home."After Tucker lets himself out, Bufer drops his towel, pulls on his undertunic and breeches, then sits cross-legged on the floor next to the bed, gnome-style. The soft light of false dawn filters through the slats of the shutters on the window, as he closes his eyes and prays.Are you there, Garl? It's me, Bejik.Please, gimme the strength to get through today! It's going to be a long one, I figure, even longer than yesterday, if that's possible. I know I ain't never been one afraid to talk -- always shooting my mouth off where angels fear to speak, as my pa used to say -- but testifying before the Baron against one of his oldest friends, and a right powerful wizard besides, is enough to set even my guts to quivering, Garl, and a little divine courage wouldn't go amiss right about now. I ain't got no doubts about what gots to be done, Garl, but for maybe the first time in my life, I'm beginning to worry about the consequences. Even if he walks -- and I'm expectin' he will -- I suspect Apep'll be a might peeved at me and mine. And this 'Tiamat faction' ain't likely to be none too crazy about us, neither.I ain't worried 'bout me, Garl -- I'll do as thou shalt have, same as I always done -- but please, if wrath's to be had for this, let it spare my friends. They're just humans, most of 'em, but they're good folk nonetheless. Even Chandler and Kem got their hearts in the right place, most of the time -- they're tricksters, Garl, you know how it goes -- and Katadid's one of the kindest souls I ever did meet, even if his head ain't screwed on right. Keep an eye out for them, would you? And Hazel, and Master Barennackle and the beanpole. An' Elly, of course.Help Lemon to see the sense in what me and Emmerson are plannin' to do, even if he don't like it none. If the wind's blowing the way I think it be, then the best thing we can do is to bring all the Bridgers together under one roof before the storm hits. The town's been divided for much too long, even if they ain't seen it. Big'un or smallfolk, Farrin or Glangirn ... it ain't none of it gonna matter if the kobolds decide to make war on Maidensbridge. And they got to be made to see it, before their lives depend on it, or it might be too late.Help me to keep the kid on the straight and narrow, no matter what Lemon's plans for him are. Beanpole's got a stout heart, and a good head. If men like him were running the church instead of Lemon and that rat-bastard Rehoboth Ylestos, I think I could almost make my peace with it. Almost.Please see if you can talk Bahamut inta cutting the constable a break today. It's going to be a rough one for him, too. Hoppy's kind of an arse at times, and he ain't got no sense of humor to speak of, but he means well. And Emmerson and Tucker seem to think he's all right, which is good enough fer me.And finally -- just like always -- help me find the courage and the wisdom to mend the rift between us and the kobolds, at least the ones worth mending with. This 'Tiamat faction' might wish harm on Maidensbridge ... but maybe that means there's an opposing faction that don't? Maybe ... maybe there's an opportunity there? If only I knew how to find out. The enemy of my enemy's my friend, after all, even if he is a dirty, tricksy gnome ...Hmm. I'll have to ponder on that, huh?Anyway, thanks, Garl. I know I'm asking for a lot, so I appreciate any help you see fit to send our way. I promise to do the best I can with whatever the day brings, right and true. I remain your humble servant, sir, always and forever, right up until the day you decide to call me home....Oh, yeah, and if it ain't too much trouble, no more horses today, huh? Hot fire below, and my poor tuchas just can't take anymore ...</blockquote>

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