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[Caellath]

Talinth stared at his hand for a while before putting his armored gloves back once again, sighing and leaving the room after Karas sped off with the scarf with obvious glee in his voice. No more time to waste; his remaining time before the symptoms hit him full strength would be short, and he didn't want to die before completing his investigation.

He wondered if Karas would keep following him and showing the same behavior with any and each discovery made during the course of his investigations. In fact, he preferred to conduct those with Sahainn as his sole companion, as it was the way he was used to doing things. The assassin probably had good intentions, but he was somewhat...too enthusiastic.

The chain of events, the machinations that caused the King to fall ill, all seem to point the Grey Death is not just a common plague which simply appeared due to the whims of the gods or even nature, but that if it is something manipulated by men, it may as well also have been created by men.

Keep investigating into matters; try to discover the origin of the scarf and search a cure for the Grey Death in the process.

Training action for the season: Polearms/Blunt by himself.

[micelus]

"Well Sigurd, seems that we're trapped...how bout' we try something more direct before we lose our heads.?"

March directly for the jarl's abode and reveal ourselves. Immediately demand to see the jarl, as in the traditional custom.

[Tiruin]

"We move back into the city, then? As a united council and not as enemies?" Renart said, his mood turning for the better, "If so, would you all mind if I ask the Bravos myself on their status, and if there is any undergoing investigation?

"Though, I am interested in whoever raided my lands and Dechire's with impunity."

[Ardas]

The cold, windy room at the top of the tower, so favoured by Albert, was changed for the great hall of the castle. Guards were posted around the place, a big fire stoked up and roaring in the fireplace and table set specially for nobles, with plates of cold meat, beer and fresh bread: fruits of the harvest so quickly picked up, now to be consumed in peace over winter.

Edgard took his seat at the head of the table, with othe places set for other nboles and ready to start the debate.

"Well then, my lords? What do you deem worthy of disucssion now? no doubt there are grieviances and matters to be settled. We can do so now."

[Tiruin]

"I wonder why my fellowman, Harald, is accusing Richard of using foreign envoys and forces for his own gain without any tangible proof. While it may have been on the spur of the moment, insisting isn't a good sign, especially when being called out on it."

Renart adjusted himself in his seat to focus more on the man.

"Just a thought, other than that I've nothing else to add until I personally ask the Bravos."

Inquire on the King's Status, who else is working for his aid, if I can contact any of them -- hedge knights, mercenaries...the like. From the bravos, of course.

[Ghazkull]

So the Prince is the only one who can throw around unfounded accusations now? Hah. I say HAH.

Harald leaned back and took a deep draft from the beer.

[Shootandrun]

"Qualifying my accusations of being unfounded is a little... Far-fetched, Lord Harald. I will humbly remind you that I was right in every single one of my guesses apart from who had organized the poisoning, and certainly far closer to the truth than you were. If I had not reacted, none of you would have ever suspected a thing - after all, I do remember you repeating many times that Albert's illness had been pure bad luck, or even that a priest was behind it! I may have been wrong in the end, but I was not blind. As such, I would appreciate a little more respect, especially coming from you, Harald...

...Come to think about it, I'd suggest that we deal with the matter of the raids as soon as possible. Who was behind it, Edgard, and who will pay for it?"

[Ardas]

Who was it you ask? Isn't it obvious? Who tried to stop your mad escapade this whole time? It was me, my dear man. I ordered it, and my troops carried out the order. I promised to pay compensation. And If I remember correctly, you promised me to rebuild the bridge. Now Richard, we have more important things to do. I want you to explain the Parnoth situation to me. What are you accusing him of?"

[Dragor23]

Theor looked at Harald and leaned to him "Keine Sorge, ich werde ihm zeigen was es heißt falsche Anschuldigungen rauszuplappern."
He leaned back, grinned clandestinely to his relative and grabbed the hilt of his sword.

[Shootandrun]

Richard looked at Harald and Edgard in succession for a long time, before raising his eyebrow, asking a silent question to the Regent. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled.

"Very well. Here's the thing; if I and my mother both die, Parnoth's daughter will be the heir to the throne of Windheath. She is the fourth in the line of succession. Another man had a claim - Henry - but he died too, and from the Grey Death, of all things. And then, the pieces start forming together. Albert is poisoned in a public event, Henry receives a similar gift. I am left the heir to the throne, and I have strong evidence suggesting someone poisoned the King, which immediately points to you, Edgard.

I raise my armies and nearly start a civil war. Parnoth involves himself in the affair, lending enough forces to your cause to make sure my victory would be extremely costly. I am nearly certain that was premeditated - the letters I intercepted between him and Rakon show that he was already moving his troops before you called him for aid, under the guise of the war against Donnerstein. The armed troops of Windheath are all but wiped out, while Parnoth can avoid all fighting thanks to his precious ships.

In the end, we have few troops, I have a weak claim to the throne and all three members of the Conricht family between his daughter and the throne are in one place - the royal palace... Which allows Parnoth to land in the capital city, kill me, my mother, and Albert, and place his daughter on the throne as Queen of Windheath.

We have been played for fools, my lords - pawns in a game of chess... And I was one of the pieces, despite all my goddamn intelligence network and the evidence I collected. The man is... Frightening, to say the least."

[Ardas]

Edgard looked at Richard with arched eyebrow.

"That is one heavy accusation you make, my prince. But as long as you are safe, and we are united, I would not worry about anything. Besides, Parnoth will swear allegiance to me personally once he is here and his duchy and his fellow comtes shall become my permament vassals.In addition, i do not believe that he holds such ill intentions. right now, we have to put this country back on track.
I have a request to make my prince. Do you think its not the time to disperse all levies and let them go home? Prepare for winter and so on? there is no point for them to remain under arms now. Snow is about to fall."

[Shootandrun]

"I will disband the levies at once, Lord Regent... And if I may make a suggestion? We should build a royal navy as soon as possible. If an hostile faction pulled a trick on us like Parnoth did, they could destroy the Lorvese and Westwatch bridges, or at least force us to split our armies to prevent that from happening."

[filiusenox]

Ril awoke with a start, trying to push himself up, out of the cheap, straw-filled pallet he slept upon, only to collapse back, blood pouring from the number of wounds covering his thin, malnourished form.

He coughed out some blood, giving a pained whimper, that caught in his throat, making him cough up...blood and scabby mucus. Warm blood began to run down his throat, the bandages around his neck staining dark red.

Not like this...not like this....

Two sets of rough-hewn boots hurried their way to the prone young man, a hand wrapping around his throat, stemming the bleeding with fresh, thick bandages of rough-hewn wool a Ril slipped back into unconsciousnesses.


He healed fast, when all was said in done, the stitches keeping his chest cavity from gushing blood could be removed after a month, the ones keeping his throat from drowning him in his own blood were removed a week later...he was on his feet the week after that, repairing his clothes and armor, planning and plotting on revenge on the man who sent him to die. A few days later, he convinced the red-headed brother and sister who took him in to come with him, leave this hellish country behind...

....Your head will decorate my mansion, Regent.

Ril has been MIA for two months, after an ambush killed his men and nearly killed him, leaving him with a few physical scars..

Head back to Stormstead.

[Ghazkull]

More importantly we immediately need to destroy all dyes from Arendalis and at least stop further spread of the plague...or at least curb it.

[thatkid]

An elderly man stood at the doorway to a lavish bedchamber, his withered hands clasped behind his stooped back, sparse strands of hair falling in white wisps across his wrinkled forehead. "Sir?" he queried, cautiously. Someone within groaned a response, and a moment later a pillow flew into the door frame, hitting the wooden floor with a gentle plop. "Sir, you really must come and review these documents, as--"
"Yes, yes, I know," the youth within cut him off, stepping out in unlaced boots, his finely woven black tunic partially unbuttoned, hair still a mess, "But really now, Alistair, you are such a bore. I can't imagine how my father managed to put up with you for so long."

To any casual observer, there was no change in either man's demeanor, though those who watched closely- perhaps the guardsman who stood at attention nearby, might have recognized a depression within the elderly gentleman, a sinking of his features as his willowy frame shrunk back and away, a slight dulling of his previously bright hazel eyes. The youth, meanwhile, quieted at that, sucking in his lower lip before absentmindedly running a finger over the pink scar that crossed his high cheekbone.

There was a moment of silence, and in it one could hear a pin drop. Certainly, the guardsman could hear his own heart beating. Somewhere outside the fortress walls a crow let out a mournful craw-caw before a hunter's arrow found its heart.

"Yes, well, in any case," Zacharie finally broke, with a sigh, hand moving from scar to chestnut hair, smoothing it back before letting it fall about his head as it may, "Show me these papers, lead me to the accounts and so on." He urged the withered manservant on with a whirl of his hand, not unlike how his eyes might roll, had he not enough tact to allow such an event to come to pass.
"And you," he tacked on without a moment's pause, attention shifting to the guardsman, "See our lady clothed, and led back to...the tavern, or wherever in Ziamdaka's name I found her."

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