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[Taricus]

"A few choice words you said upon our "Formal" introduction this evening, Edgard. I do honestly suggest that you think about what you're saying and to whom you are saying it next time."

[Ardas]

"Ah, but my lady, you yourself have been quite liberal with few words. As such I am rather perplexed by your short temper. Perhaps the wine we've been drinking was rather strong. Allow me to apologise.

I hope that Your Majesty is not too worried about this? After all it appears it was a rather trivial thing.Shall we go back downstairs? My brides and my sister are waiting."

[Iituem]

Action: Sahainn will use her nose and instincts to help find any traces and tracks of people who didn't use the normal path to leave the room - analyzing the trail of dust cleaned by people who took rarely-utilized hallways and sensing their fading smell.

[5] The castle is a complex mess of scents, animal, plant and mineral (and plenty fecal), but Sahainn once traced a grey stag through twenty miles of woodland for you.  She is well within her element and begins snuffling at the edges of the room.  [2] Unfortunately, a large worg is very difficult to hide and some of the Bravos move you on before the guests are spooked.  Probably for the best; a number of these nobles are big worg-hunters.

[2] Sahainn has little luck tracking scents once moved away from their source and you spend an hour fruitlessly searching the hallways of the castle, [1] ultimately ending when Sahainn finds the secondary pantry and her nose leads her straight to a platter of beef - which quickly disappears.

[3] Somewhat frustrated by this, you wrestle your lifelong friend away from the food and back to the stables [5] - when you catch sight of the woman you were observing before, hurrying away from the feast with a small sack.  [4] She seems pretty concerned about being followed, but hastens enough that you are able to follow unseen.  [3] She moves through a large courtyard, forcing you to hang back and lose some distance, [4] but she stops at a garret by the wall and you are able to hustle behind a pillar while she struggles with the sack.

The woman pulls [3] bread, fruit and what you think is a jug of wine out of the sack and knocks on the door of the garret.  It opens, [2] and one of the Bravos is standing there; [1] who you recognise as Barran, second only to Aveline amongst the king's elite guard.  The woman hands him the victuals, [1] and Barran just gives her some coins.  Hardly incriminating; probably he asked the woman to get some food for him while he was on duty.

[2] The pair talk, but you are too far away to hear their conversation.  [5] Whatever they say, it seems heated.  Barran thrusts more coins into the woman's hands and pushes her away.  She starts shouting, so he shoves a silver goblet into her hands and slams the door on her.  Just before the door closes, you hear the cry of a baby from within the garret.  [1] The woman turns to leave and spots you skulking behind the pillar.  She screams in alarm, [5] but you fly into the passageways of the castle before anyone comes.

You aren't really sure what you've just witnessed, but there is a lingering sense of social awkwardness in the back of your mind.

Jitpau Itavny marches north to Stormstead, spreading the word as he goes, establishing the new faith in the minds of his followers.

[2+1] Not many villagers completely embrace the new faith, but not many realize you're starting an heresy, either. Your number of followers grows slightly, [6] and the word spreads throughout Windheath that a Great Prophet has arrived in the Crown, and is preaching a new truth to the Adrans. Many hear about it; the King does, for one, and the High Inquisitor learns of it too.

After the festival High Inquisitor Farrin Arondson, [2] a Reader of Liodnya, approaches the King with news of a so-called prophet Jitnau Itavny marching upon Stormstead.  [2] Arondson is highly suspicious of this prophet (which is why he is high inquisitor) and informs the King that Itavny is almost certainly a heretic - [5] but is willing to hear his message out before he is brought in for inquisition.

The High Inquisitor has no need, legal or spiritual, to ask the thoughts of the King on how the temple should proceed on this matter.  He does so anyway as a courtesy, but mentions that whatever happens he will need to conduct his own inquisition.

How would the King like this new Prophet to be welcomed into Stormstead?  In chains, or with an open ear?

[micelus]

The drakes were finally dead, and along with them, many men. Brave Toljr, leader of a thousand raids. Eitreig, father of twenty. Skalg, one of the most loyal men out there, and young Gendrir, who had nothing at all to be proud off. Even so, there deaths would be remembered in the songs. Well, they better well be anyway.

Osir called up on Aki to perform the rites of the dead. The Haegar tradition was to strip everything of value from the corpses, sever the head and leave the rest of the body to rot, after of course coercing the spirit into the next life. Haegar did not put much value on such things, the earthly goods would go to their halls while the heads would be preserved for their family shrines.

Osir watched as Aki performed the rites and gestured the signs, before ritualistically looting the hunters and cutting their heads. It was an interesting tradition, when Osir thought about it. Simple to conduct and obvious connotations to life.

As Aki performed the rights, Osir called up some of his men. "Get those drakes."
As that happened, Osir walked over to Renart and his men, and conversed.

"Many died here to day, but now the drakes are all dead. A worthy sacrifice and their deaths will be remembered. I be hoping that not too many of your men became horribly injured? In any case, we won't have to worry about these creatures for a while...Now about the bodies, I imagine that you would want some for yourself? You may have one if ya be wanting it."

After getting Renart's reply, he also asked if there was anything else to discuss and that what season Renart would want this fair of his held?

[adwarf]

Trent signaled the other rangers to start moving, and he followed close behind with his bow in his hands and an arrow knocked, ready to shoot anyone who would be his foe. He could see the tension in Tellard's movements, but the fellow soon relaxed as he drew one of his knives out of its sheaths and continued to creep along in the shadows of the wooden crenelations of the wall, seeing him relax Trent turned his eyes to the sights below and began scanning for anything of importance ...

Look for anything important, a richly decorated tent, a keep, or an open door/window leading further in. After finding one began making our way but try to remain hidden. If we are spotted kill the guard as quietly as possible and hide his body for continuing on.

[Iituem]

"Lady Esmerelda Drachenmire, may I have this dance?"

Esme found a hand at her wrist and turned up to see a young man in a blue brocade and trousers, polished boots and burning southern red hair tied back with a blue ribbon.  Her heart buoyed as she took the young man's hand and stood to dance.

"Where have you been, Fust?" Esme whispered in the young man's ear.  He held her tight and she felt her heart beat against his chest - not quite in time to the music, but neither were their steps.  She'd heard rumours the court musician's playing went to hell after he'd had a few drinks.

"Busy," replied Fust, a little shortly.  He frowned, as if realising his mistake, and broadened into a smile.  "I trust your chambers have been acceptable?"

"Perfectly," said Esme, "though I would have preferred a little company.  We've barely spoken for days.  I'm impressed you were able to get me into the ball, though.  Thank you for the dress, also."  Esme moved Fust's hand to her hip, brushing over the emerald folds.  She privately suspected it must have cost a courtier like himself a month's wages.  Fust smiled, a touch haltingly, as if unused to the compliment.

"Tis only what you deserve.  How proceeds the courting feast?  I was delayed, I fear."

"Well.  The King's entourage is impressive, though his Ducs need reining in, and King Charles is busy trying to keep King William from hitting anyone.  I've been asked for my hand in marriage three times, though the barons in question were quite into their cups.  One of them proposed to a potted plant a minute after."

"Have you?"  Fust's eyes flashed for a moment and his face froze for a moment before resuming his pleasant smile.  They parted hands for a moment in the motions of the dance and then joined again.

"Yes, it was most entertaining, although one rather creepy knight just kept staring at everyone."  Esme leant in as the dance dictated and placed a chaste kiss on Fust's cheek before they moved apart again.  "Fust, what is on your mind?  You're barely even paying attention to me.  You should cheer up, I hear they have a most excellent Fool here - though he's yet to appear."

Once again Fust's eyes burned and this time Esme felt a little uncomfortable.  The moment passed and the dance continued in silence until its completion.  As the dance finished, Fust spoke again.

"I am sure a Fool will present himself soon enough.  Dearest Esme, will you come with me?"

Esme let him lead her out of the festival hall and into one of the archways at the palace courtyard.  Fust was about to speak when they heard some muffled shouting, followed by a scream.  A man ran off into the hallways and an angry woman rushed into the courtyard shouting after him, though she soon gave up and stormed back to the feast.  When the night was quiet again, Fust took both of Esme's hands and knelt on one knee.  He kissed each one as if it were a holy shrine.  Esme giggled; she felt her heart growing as if it were fit to burst.  When he lifted his head to her again, there was a sort of hardness to his face - a set determination.

"I brought you here to make you a Countess - and, I will not lie, to court you if I could.  I did not plan to fall in love with you, but the gods laugh at men's plans.  Think of my former intentions what you will, but know that what I say now is out of love to you and for no other reason.

"The law favours the king, and the decision rests with him.  Count Lichtenmire's lands and titles are his, if he but pass the law that lets him.  I am sorry, but it would take a miracle from Daliochadun himself to make you a Countess."

Esme stared down at the young, beautiful man before her and felt her heart crush, shrivelling in an instant from its buoyant swellings a moment before.  She had hoped, hoped desperately... dared to dream of a life away from her father's castle, of a life better than some knight's wife or the third wife of some elderly baron desperate for a son.  Dared to dream of such a life with a young noble official at her side.  But now... now, was he useless to her?  Esme tried to shove such thoughts aside as Fust continued to speak.

"I am noble by birth and blood, of the southern House of Touchstone, but not by land or deed.  My ancestral rights were stripped from my father when his brothers would not cease to fight like hounds.  But tarnished silver is no more bright or lustrous than common clay.  To all for whom it might well matter, I am a commoner and you are still of noble birth, blood, deed and land - though your father's dower be slight.

"I spoke truth as a lie to you also.  I am indeed a member of the king's court.  I sit at his left hand, I eat and drink with him, I whisper in his ear and I speak with him as an equal.  Yet this is not from station, for I am lower than the lowest, even as I sit with the highest.  I advise the King not as a trusted councillor, but as his most ridiculed Fool."

Blood pounded through Esme's head.  She could feel tears welling in her eyes and see them blurring Touchstone's own.  Her heart beat, divided between hatred and love, between dismay at the folly she had been dragged into and joy for the last weeks she had spent with this terrible, brilliant man.  Fust held her hands tightly in his own.  His voice trembled as he tried to keep his dignity.

"Everything I am is truth, but truth shone through the glass of the Fool.  Wisdom in the guise of witlessness.  Folly in fine garments.  The man who tried to lift you up, who tried to woo you, who spoke with you as an equal and was lucky enough to be graced by your presence and your beauty is still the man who kneels before you now, in desperate need of your love, but with only his love to give.  I cannot grant you titles.  I cannot grant you wealth.  I cannot even grant you wisdom, Daliochadun hang me.  I can only grant you all I am, for the rest of our days.

"Esme, my dearest Esme, if you are a Countess and I am the King's advisor, or if you are but a poor baron's daughter and I am but a Fool, I promise that I will stand by you come hell or high water, if you will but marry me as an equal."

Fust awaits Esmerelda's decision.

[Azthor]

In Drachengrab...

"All will fall in place in due time, rest assured, you will know when it is time; as for your part  this, ensure that the Crown does not fall off the head where it belongs by right, though I'd expect no less of you, Blauritter.  For now, however, I believe the both of us have more pressing matters to attend to; for as long as it may be, I bid Your Grace farewell".

The Marquis of Drachengrab sets out towards the feast and, though he does arrive on the date, he is late for the festivities' opening.

[Caellath]

Talinth was a bit confused as both the knight and Sahainn navigated the corridors of the castle. Already used to the mazelike place from his investigative adventure, he calmly followed his friend through the twisting hallways and uneven architecture that composed the place. It did not take long for Sahainn to indicate the king's position some dozens of meters away, although the worg used body language and a soft growl to indicate more people were with him, prompting Talinth to wait where he stood.

...

The blacksmith knight one floor under the king, until Sahainn indicated the other nobles left, before finally moving upstairs and approaching the King.
"Your Highness..."

He then proceeded to tell the king about everything that had happeened so far during his search, including the fact he slept during part of the time he should be paying attention to the happenings. Honesty was an important matter for him, and he usually would only accept lying to avoid bringing problems to other people.

"I was unable to fully understand the scene I saw and I failed during the tracking of possible burglars due to the fact there was need for my friend to be kept away from the guests, lest I cause more problems." he spoke without resentment or hesitation, clearly understanding the Bravos did only what was right.

"I believe a second sweep with her could be able to reveal more tracks in the spot we were expelled from, but I can not be certain." he completed, staring at the king while fixing his ponytail and repositioning his family's brooch that held his hair, a piece made of meteoric iron with a blue gem in its center.

If the King allows, make another sweep in the castle with Sahainn's help.

[Deny]

Galhrad listened carefully, it made sense in some ways at least. At the kings last comment he tensed a little before replying"My apologies your highness, I must have missread your response. And it would explain a few things. But do not doubt my resolve, the reason I had aked you was that it hardly seemed wise to go prancing about claiming land under your nose." After the king left Galhard walked out of the palace somewhat slowly, so he would have to ask the current owner huh, well then best be off, now what was that mans name again?

[Dwarmin]

"Ah, but my lady, you yourself have been quite liberal with few words. As such I am rather perplexed by your short temper. Perhaps the wine we've been drinking was rather strong. Allow me to apologise.

I hope that Your Majesty is not too worried about this? After all it appears it was a rather trivial thing.Shall we go back downstairs? My brides and my sister are waiting."

"Indeed. Let's not have any more trouble tonight..."

The King and the pair moved back to the festivities.

How would the King like this new Prophet to be welcomed into Stormstead?  In chains, or with an open ear?

"Saer Arondson, I am much your mind-I am curious as to what this 'prophet' has to say...

Let's listen to what he has to say."

"I believe a second sweep with her could be able to reveal more tracks in the spot we were expelled from, but I can not be certain." he completed, staring at the king while fixing his ponytail and repositioning his family's brooch that held his hair, a piece made of meteoric iron with a blue gem in its center.

If the King allows, make another sweep in the castle with Sahainn's help.

"If this was easy, I suppose I would have given it to someone else.

You have my blessing, Knight-the Castle will be cleared of visitors and hangers-on once the party is over, and then your investigation can continue. I will order the Bravos to cooperate.

Albert assumed the Thief or Thieves was gone already, though...

Action: The King orders a sweep of the castle after the guests have left. Stocks and valuables are checked to determine if anything was stolen in the night.

[Caellath]

"If this was easy, I suppose I would have given it to someone else.

You have my blessing, Knight-the Castle will be cleared of visitors and hangers-on once the party is over, and then your investigation can continue. I will order the Bravos to cooperate.

Albert assumed the Thief or Thieves was gone already, though...

Action: The King orders a sweep of the castle after the guests have left. Stocks and valuables are checked to determine if anything was stolen in the night.

"It shall be done, and even if the burglars left, Sahainn may still be able to track them down."

The white worg flicked her sharp triangular ears as he spoke.

Action: Sahainn will check for tracks in areas the public isn't normally supposed to wander in and the trails will be followed.

If it fails and anything was stolen, Sahainn will smell the place around where the objects were and then try to track both objects and burglar down.

[NUKE9.13]

"Saer Arondson, I am much your mind-I am curious as to what this 'prophet' has to say...

Let's listen to what he has to say."

As if you had a choice.

"HARK! You can be saved! Your misfortunes will fade away under the HOLY LIGHT of the GODS. Go to the temples, and pray, and ask of the gods SALVATION. Show them your BLOOD. Show them your DEDICATION to the BLESSED PEOPLE. For WE ARE THEY; THE FREED-MEN, CHOSEN OF THE GODS."

Unto the city of Stormstead came the congregation of the Prophet. Banners inscribed with holy symbols flutter in the breeze. Holy chants sound from weary throats of fervent followers; men and women who have walked singing non-stop for hours on end. Carts and donkeys mingle with the crowd, bearing the old and the sick who would follow the self-proclaimed holy man.

The man in question rides in a cart himself, nursing his wounds, but no less exhausted for the seemingly unending stream of inspirational mantras, vague prophecies, quotes of scripture, and joyous revelations which bellow forth from his aged frame. All but the gist of his message is surely lost in the noise and confusion of the parade.

The old bridge groans under the weight of hundreds as the parade crosses the river. Travellers have no choice but to join the crowd, inflating its size with confused passers-by. The crowd approaches the gates, a vast horde of humanity. The guards would sooner stop the tides; they flow into the city, sweeping up curious townsfolk, terrified guardsmen, entrepreneurial merchants, and anyone else unfortunate enough to get in their way, and slowly make their way towards the palace. On the square before the imposing citadel, the congregation stops, and parts respectfully. From its midst emerges the old man, striding confidently, waving his hands to command silence.

He strides up to the doors of the palace, and commands of the guards their stationed that they

"Open at once the doors of the great palace; it is my duty in many ways to speak with the king immediately."

[Dwarmin]

But why wait?

King Albert himself appears when the gates are opened, dressed casually, blade on his hip-no guards flanks him.

He speaks, and his voice rings with Kingly authority-and respectful humor.

"Advisor Servus Kninh? I'm glad to see you back." Albert says, using the mans name.

At this point, he looks past Servus to the crowd.

"...but I recall sending you to cure a plague, not incite the good people of Windheath into a fervor. Good people, I thank you for escorting my Advisor to the castle, but now I will have to ask most of you go back to your homes and businesses. As your King, I would not want my people to stand out in the hot sun, waiting for two man to discuss boring details of state...

The rest of you, I know have traveled long ways in this mans entourage. You will be allowed into the barracks, where there is clean beds, hot food, fresh water and doctors waiting for you."

The King took the moment to look Kninh in the eye.

Action: Break up the mob, sending people back to their homes without force. Severus's Followers are taken care.

[NUKE9.13]

Jitpau nods along as the king talks, and after he has finished dismisses the crowd with a wave of his hand.

"My King", he speaks, making a slight bow. "I have glorious news, bad news, and good news, in that order."

"The glorious news is that I have been visited by the gods themselves, granted salvation by their hand, and sent forth unto the world to spread truth and salvation amongst the people."

"The bad news is that, as a direct servant of the gods, I can no longer serve mortal men. I must resign as your advisor, and as your subject. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience."

"The good news is that though I can no longer be your servant, I can still be of service to you! For ye, the GODS have empowered me! They have asked, nay, COMMANDED, that I go forth, and set right the MISTAKES of the past! That I set the blessed people upon the path of righteousness once more. And in return, they will receive SALVATION.
And so, King Albert, I ask you, not as a subject, but as a friend- will you let the gods be your saviours? Will you reaffirm your status as one of their chosen people? Will you show them your blood, and do good and rule in their name? WILL. YOU. BE. SAVED?"

Jitpau's voice rings out across the city. The crowd may have dispersed, but they don't need to be on the square to hear his words.

[Shootandrun]

Richard appeared behind the king and the High Inquisitor. He had a sword in his scabbard and the commander of the palace's guard was behind him, but he seemed to relax as he saw the crowd leave the castle grounds. After the Prophet had made his speech, though, he decided to interrupt.

[3] "Pardon me for interrupting, brother, but I have a few questions that need an answer from this man. It should not be long, I promise."

He turned his head towards the Messiah, his face absolutely expressionless.

"Servus Kninh, you are a scholar amongst scholar. I know that you have spent many and many years studying the Holy Texts, and I know that your wisdom never failed us in time of need. You are one of the men who know the most about our own religion in this kingdom, and for these reasons I have considered your preachings not as heretical babble, but as potential truth.

However, some of the things I have learned trouble me, to say the least. Namely, the fact that right before you apparently had your revelation, you had been thrown out of a window by the Marquis of the Pact. I have heard rumors that he went mad shortly after... But that is besides the point. Tell me, 'Messiah', did you have your revelation before or after you'd been thrown down a tower?"