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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4885636" data-attributes="member: 16069">The Friday Knights in Sellswords of FallcrestPart 22: GlaffinThe Court of the Beggar-King is bedecked in mouldering splendour. Stained tapestries illuminated by fluttering tapers and smoking bronze braziers that glisten with mould and rainwater. Pillows and blankets, black with mildew, cover every inch of the floor.Cracked mirrors and tarnished copper shields- covered in verdigris, hang from a fishing net strung from the rafters above. The air is thick with incense, but no amount of perfume can conceal the oppressive reek of sweat and spilled wine.At the far end of the chamber, past a low table strewn with half-empty jugs of wine and nibbled sweetmeats, is a divan hung with furs. Asleep in a drunken stupor atop the divan is a portly figure in an embroidered robe. A glittering crown- topped with gems - sits nearby, atop a small gold coffer.A trio of hooded guards, dressed in the formless grey cloaks of executioners, stand watch over the sleeping form.“Careful... Wait” Kullervo shushes from the shadows.The young Rogue takes a few steps forward, the floor creaks loudly, protests his passage- he stops, something odd- he stops to stare.Then goes to shuffle forward again.Again the floor protests.He stops.Behind him Cathal, Ignaran and Astaroth are content to watch on, reassured by Kullervo's command of the situation.The young Rogue kicks a cushion over, then another- squats and places his hand flat on the wooden floor.“Hmm.”He retreats to Cathal and the others.“Throw the body into the middle.” He whispers. “Wh...” Cathal starts.“Do it!” Kullervo hisses.Cathal nods.Astaroth steps forward, hoists the broken body of Black Shet over his head and pumps his arms once.THUNKBOK-K-K.Black Shet's body slams into the floor, which instantly parts, that is flops down and open, in two separate halves. Which - gravity takes charge - causes Black Shet to continue his descent.THUNGClearly something below has impeded his progress.Kullervo stares down, there's a huge cavern below, the thrash and swirl of water, a rocky ledge thirty feet below and to his left, the rush of the underground river some twenty feet below the ledge.And between the river and the point at which Kullervo stands is a metal cage, dangling from a thick heavy-linked iron chain. Black Shets’ broken body splayed on the floor of the now swaying rusty metal cage.The other Knights creep forward to admire the view.The three guards within the chamber, and the sleeping form have not stirred in all of this time.Kullervo nods at Cathal, eyes right to the guardian forms, his job not yet done- the young Rogue takes a circuitous route around to the far side of the chamber, beyond the yawning pit. Once again the others wait on- although manoeuvre themselves into more advantageous positions, ready weapons for the rush.Kullervo squats in the shadows, tight to the wall, as far away as he can from the fall. He can see everything from here, the first guard- with its back to him, it's a dummy- not a man, an arming dummy dressed in armour, a glaive-like weapon leant against it.He moves on, confirms the second, and the third are likewise dummies, all that's left is the sleeping form on the divan - and the crown and the small gold coffer, of course.He approaches the divan, the figure stirs, he stops- it's no dummy, and yet, something is still not right, he approaches cautiously.Cautiously.Closer.Silent as the grave.Then looms up over the sleeping form, dagger downward pointing, in two hands, ready to strike down- the sleeping form reacts to his sudden shadow, lurches around- it's a young girl, tears and fear in her face- she's gagged and bound.The dagger descends.At lightning speed.And is swiftly slotted into its leather scabbard, Kullervo fumbles for the girl’s ropes, her gag- all smiles and shushes, he's grinning, eyes glistening, whispering- again and again, like an echo- “sorry... sorry.”She's soon free, and the other Knights over to her- she's called Glaffin, she's eleven and alone in this world. Kullervo clutches her to him, it comes easily to him- the human touch; the other Knights seem less adept, much less adept.The gold this and that, the fancy crown et al- all of it is junk; the coffer also proves to be trapped- Kullervo however does his job and quickly and quietly disarms the trap- a poisoned dart set to fire out. Inside a pile of coin- gold, or at least tin coins painted gold- badly. There's nothing here of any worth- all of it junk, the whole thing an elaborate trap; the Court of the Beggar King is nothing more than a charade.It seems the action lies below, for the Friday Knights it’s into the caves.The Knights take a break, Cathal and Ignaran pick their moments to head over to Kullervo and shake him by the hand- “good work”, and, “well done- sorry about before”. It seems the young Rogue has found his feet and his place is secure in the Friday Knights.Glaffin knows nothing, except that she's cold, lost and alone- Kullervo tells the others that he will take her back to the Inn. Cathal goes to protest but sees the young Rogue's eyes- the clue is in the word 'tells' in the previous sentence; Kullervo has made his decision- he heads off, leading Glaffin away, her hand firmly clasped in his.“He's shaping up.” Cathal remarks with a smile when the young Rogue has departed.The Knights rest, Cathal remains on-guard, cleaning his longsword; Astaroth slumps in a corner examining closely, silently counting, incorrectly, his fingers on his hands; Ignaran squats and eats jerky, trying  hard not to stare at the warrior of Kord.“I said he's shaping up.” Cathal repeats, baiting a trap, or so it seems to Ignaran.“Mmm.” He confirms, and doesn't look up.“I had my doubts... but, he's really shaping up, see him with Black Shet- all action.”In the corner Astaroth grins and nods.Cathal grins back at the man-mountain and then turns again to Ignaran.“I thought he was soft, I thought he didn't have it... But, Kord be praised- he made mush of that guy’s face.” Cathal pointedly stares at Ignaran.“Did ya see that?” Cathal prods a little harder.Ignaran meets Cathal's stare.“Yes, I did.” He states, then adds, softly- “what happened with you in the storeroom, with the rats, you just seemed to freeze?” Ignaran smiles back.Cathal flashes red, his hand tight on the grip of his sword.It passes.“Nothing.” The Warrior of Kord offers, bites on his beard, nods once at the Druid, smiles and turns away.Thirty minutes later, eyes still glistening but full of smiles, Kullervo returns-  for the first time he feels he has made a difference, perhaps this adventuring lark is something more then death and gold, he feels... good, content, happy with his lot. “Where next?” he enquires, wreathed in smiles.</blockquote>

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