Phil leaves the lorekeeper's quarters, Radagast pressing a note into his hands on his way out. "Please hand this to the guards," he says. "It's permission for our new allies to walk the grounds."
After that, the note is exchanged for Phil's sword, and he's free to roam the keep once more.
Dracos yawned a bit after finishing that and headed back to the storm-riders camp, keeping an eye out for Nathan or Bjorn if they are out, but not specifically going out of his way to find them.
Dracos
You're not far outside of the keep (past Ekim's forge, where he's hard at work, with Serril watching over his shoulder), when Derrick runs out of the keep behind you and calls your name: "Lord Bloom!"
Dracos turns, taking in who is calling him and putting a friendly look on his face. "Yes, Derrick?"
Dracos
Derrick looks around as though to make sure no one is listening in. "Can I ask you a question?" he asks, somewhat nervously.
Dracos eyes about quickly, checking the same before nodding. "Certainly."
Dracos
"I'd like to know more about this Contest," he says, glancing about and motioning you to follow as he heads back to his golem.
Dracos nods. "Sure, what I know, I'm willing to share within reason." Dracos turns and walks with him for a bit, prepared to switch to conversing about the golem if he spots anyone nearby.
Dracos
"Well, I wanted to know ... you ... why are you in this Contest? What's it all about?" Derrick asks.
"Long answer is a bit too long to easily explain here. The short of it is though a friend of mine got caught up in it in a way he can't easily get out of. Even if he wanted to turn around and leave the whole thing behind, he can't really. I don't have so many friends that I willingly turn my back on one in trouble. So I'm in it for the long run as well. And what's it all about. Seems to be power, but there's no way that's all there is in it." Dracos shrugged.
Dracos
"But, you said this was about the world," Derrick says, frowning. "What was that?"
"It is. The contest is held in the dreams of myths about the world. Those who win it get the earth to agree with their goals, their way of thinking. They change how the world is. There's something more to it, but I'm not sure of it yet."
Dracos
"Change the world by killing people?" Derrick asks.
"Talking about Pax? Doesn't make much sense on face. But then, at the same time it kind of does. It's pruning the weak so that the race itself is stronger. Fewer stronger people battling for the same amount of resources would result in even stronger people. If only the strong survived, the race that would be produced would be stronger the next generation. It'd be mandating the development of humankind. Also, this is a land of dreams, a shield created by belief I think against something. With more people, there tends to be less belief in the supernatural. In things like the realm of hades. In miracles. In heroes. After disasters, those who survive tend to make new beliefs, new dreams, etc. Hum, bleh. I still think I am missing a part of that. Something just off. I think the contest itself is meant to strengthen the dreams like this one, but that wouldn't work in context of what was done with the dreadmarch here. That would end the dream rather than preserve or strengthen it. Sorry, I'm still puzzling through this myself."
Dracos
Derrick nods. "And your plans are to try to avoid anyone dying?" he asks.
"Well, sort of. As I said, my plans are just to protect my friends. That's what I'm in here for. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to beat the living crap out of the folks that decided it'd be good fun to blow my house up. If we keep most the world safe and ignorant of this mess while doing this, it's all good to me. The others, I think they're largely in it for that. Fairly certain of it anyway."
Dracos
"That's a noble cause," Derrick says cautiously. "It's certainly a more noble cause than the others. While purging humanity may force us to grow, it removes from many the impetus to do so, I feel. And running away is a poor answer, too."
"Agreed on the last two, certainly." Dracos nodded, walking along beside Derrick towards the golem.
Dracos
"What do we accomplish in the waking world by changing things here?" Derrick asks.
"Well, it gets the attention of 'earth', for starters. As I understand it, through having the attention of earth, you can get it to change according to the will of the victors. There's also the side benefit of your strength being blended with that of the self 'here'. Effectively, slowly becoming superhuman. There is probably more. But I'm not aware of it yet. I expect to be soon, but without having ever witnessed this through either from the side or from doing it myself yet, I only have what I learned."
Dracos
"I see," Derrick says slowly. "That ... explains all of it, then." He nods to himself.
"I take it you've noticed something similar in your time here? How long have you been here anyhow?"
Dracos
"Four years, by my reckoning," he says, glancing at the moon briefly. "But, no. When I went on ... a journey, I wanted to find a number of things. One, I found long ago," he says, gesturing to the golem, and the guards surrounding it warily.
The golem looks up when Phil and Derrick approach.
"The other," he says more quietly now that guards are around, "I believe ... to be you."
"You know, I never actually thought I'd ever see one of these. I remember reading about them ages ago. It's quite expressive. More than the solemn defender, the tales painted it as."
Dracos hummed, continuing in a very low voice. "You were looking for me? huh? You have me by surprise. Please explain?"
Dracos
"I was looking for the lore of Rabbi Judah Loew," Derrick says after a moment. "I wanted that ... and more importantly, I wanted to...." He sighs, and trails off, shaking his head. "I was a researcher, in Israel. I worked for a robotic technology company. Making robots that could walk upright on two legs," he says quietly, as his golem straightens up and lumbers towards the pair of you, like a giant stone and steel puppy. "The project was named GOLEM, mostly as a joke ... but I became curious as I learned more of the original story anyway."
He looks pensive for a moment.
"That was what lead me to learn what I did," he says, reaching a hand out and patting the golem on the arm. It falls into step behind him as he turns to the keep, the golem behind him and the guards watching warily. "And my journey brought me into a cave in Israel ... but when I emerged, I was not in my own body. And I knew more than I did. But I knew almost enough to make a golem. And what I didn't know, my knowledge of robotics filled the gap in.
"I gather that whoever I was before I came to this world, my ability at creating golems was not so ... capable. But I wanted to find two things.
"One of them was to be able to create a golem. Which I have -- and I've learned a lot from it. The other was to find a cause worthy of creating a golem for ... which I have now found through you. Though ... the golem must be willing to fight for us. I do not control it. I created it, but it is only a friend, not my slave." He glances back at the golem, which nods, its mechanical heartbeat echoing quietly. "As it should be."
He turns to regard Phil again. "But you have given me -- us, really -- a cause to warrant our ... my curiosity."
Dracos ran a finger by where his glasses used to sit, thinking before responding to the man's words. "It isn't easy stuff, you know. No, I won't patronize you, you already realize that." Dracos pondered. "I'd be glad to have your help. I'd be a fool to refuse an honest offer of it. And yours as well." Dracos glanced up at the golem.
Dracos
The golem nods, but looks to Derrick to see him nod first. "Then it's settled," Derrick says. "But ... while I've traveled with Qurral for some distance, I cannot speak for him. I do not know him as well as I would need to to make that judgement."
Dracos nodded. "I would be surprised if both of you decided to join our quest, regardless of the scope of it. I just explained it really out of fairness. If I was in your shoes, I would've wanted the chance to know and all. Anyhow, there are five of us here, myself included. As well as five from pax. For the moment we're all working to protect this fortress. I should be getting back to my men and making sure all is well before tomorrow's dreadmarch attack. Anything else I can do for you before then?"
Dracos
Derrick shakes his head. "There's nothing I know that you do not," he says. "At least, I believe." He offers a bit of a smile at that, and the golem makes a whirring noise, not entirely unlike laughter.
"Pretty much. There is more, but probably for another time." Dracos nodded. "Anyhow, rest well."
Dracos turned to head back towards the storm-riders camp.
Derrick nods at you, and the golem waves goodbye as Phil turns away and re-enters the storm-rider camp.
Dracos, being someone who doesn't want to die tomorrow on the battle field from being too tired to fight, heads to get some rest before the next strategy meeting.
Dracos
After searching for Lord Kevin, Nathan finally discovers that he has gone to sleep, and short on options, opts to follow Lord Kevin's plan of action -- especially since the guards around Phil's tent say that he is sleeping, as well.
<Brian> Nathan:
<Brian> You are asleep. You are also dreaming, though you don't think you've had a dream quite like this in some time. Currently, you are lying on a bed (in your original form, apparently, wearing boxers, pajamas, and most of your right arm is still gold), looking at a wooden ceiling.
Rez blinks in surprise, and sits bolt upright, looking around in confusion.
<Brian> When you raise your head to look around, there's a number of things that come to light. The wall above the bed features a large mirror with a wooden frame. The wall to your left has a poster for the original Matrix movie. The wall to your right has a painting of some random obligatory hot chick and equally obligatory snake.
Rez didn't think snakes and hot chicks were necessarily obligatory in paintings, but such is the wa-hey, a mirror!
Rez makes SURE it's his original form.
<Brian> That's you, all right. Huh. You could have sworn you were taller and more barbarian-ey.
Rez takes a quick and curious look closer at the painting, then looks around for a door.
<Brian> You see no door.
<Brian> Directly in front of you is a man in very heavily stylized but completely (you'd think) ineffectual armor. He's got a pair of golden gauntlets sitting on his desk, which is where he is sitting, and is currently scribbling on a roll of paper. There's a large crystal ball on a gold stand.
Rez blinks.
<Rez> "Um. Hi?"
<Brian> There is a window behind the desk, but it just emits bright light -- like the sun through a thin lampshade.
<Brian> He looks up at you, and blinks. "Ah," he says after a moment. "Eric asked me to help one of you out since he's incursing against the fire-realm."
<Brian> Putting down his pen, he stands up -- this guy's almost as huge as Phil's barbarian-form. Or your own. "Nice to meet you. I'm Mike Nickey, of the Brothers of Morpheus."
Rez stands up myself and offers a hand to shake.
<Rez> "Nathan Shuker. Nice to meet you, too."
<Brian> After climbing down from the bed, you shake Mike's hand. He feels pretty solid for a dream. "I trust things are still going, in the battle-realm?" he asks.
<Rez> "Well, we aren't dead. We don't really know what else they've got up their sleeves, but we're doing fairly well . . . I think." Rez cocks his head, "So you were the ones who killed Manos?"
<Brian> He shakes his head. "Alan goes that low into common dreams. Most of us monitor the outer reaches ... we hardly have enough power left to police there. But Alan is hunting the Wanderer." He shakes his head again. "I'm digressing. We can speak later -- for the moment, there's a window of opportunity, so we can let you speak with your oracle."
<Rez> Nathan blinks.
<Rez> "I . . . thanks. How much time has passed back there? The same as in the battle-realm, or?"
<Brian> Mike shrugs, looking at you apologetically. "When we come here, we give up our pre-existing perceptions of time. We're essentially dead, and no longer a part of the real world, so we can only really guess the time by who is dreaming and when." He looks thoughtful.
<Brian> "From what I know," he says slowly, "it's spring, though."
<Rez> Nathan nods.
<Brian> He shrugs. "Mental cycles of some people tend to trend towards a pattern that indicates..." he trails off. "Sorry. Your oracle?"
<Rez> Rez blinks.
<Rez> "Oh. Yes, please, if you could . . ."
<Brian> He nods, and then passes a hand over the crystal ball. It projects a flat image, unsteady and wavering, at first, and then more clear. You see in this ... window ... or screen ... a view of the temple where you first accepted the power of Apollo.
<Brian> Kneeling at one edge of the pond, and peering into the waters, is Relm.
<Rez> "Hey, you!"
<Brian> She raises a hand towards the screen, waggling a finger, and intent on the pond. After a second of this, she nods, and looks upwards. "Mr. Bloom?" she asks, squinting, and peering around.
<Rez> Rez rolls his eyes.
<Rez> "No. Guess again."
<Brian> "Nathan!" she exclaims, looking around, and then finally locking eyes on you. "Teddy bear jammies? Cute!"
<Brian> Mike smirks, and shakes his head, but remains silent behind his desk -- and the screen, come to think of it.
<Rez> "Mention this ever again and I kill you," Nathan deadpans, "So! We ain't dead, how about you?"
Rez (cb7ae772@vs2.svartalfheim.net) Quit (QUIT: Today is a good day to chat.)
Rez (cb7ae772@vs2.svartalfheim.net) has joined #ether
<Rez> I live once more!
<Brian> "Coming together," she says with some reservation. "We're ... Victor's learning how to type. I've just got some new equipment installed in New Delphi for computing. We're trying to figure out if we want to hole up there as a permanent base, or look somewhere else."
<Rez> Nathan nods. "How long's it been there, out of curiousity?"
<Brian> "Today is May first," she says.
<Rez> Nathan blinks. ". . . yikes. It's been . . . maybe two weeks here. It's getting somewhat messy, but we're getting through."
<Brian> She nods gravely. "Is there anything you need to know about your future?" she asks.
<Rez> "Depends what you can tell me, really. We ran into two independent people in here . . . don't suppose you know if either of them are going to be a threat? I haven't spoken to them, so I don't really know much about them."
<Brian> "Names?" she prompts. "Or something else I can find them by?"
<Rez> "I don't know their real world names . . . I haven't had time to talk to them," Rez shrugs helplessly, "I mean, I don't really know what to ask . . .
<Brian> "Okay," she says, frowning. "Even the names of their shadows -- the names they use in that world -- will help."
<Rez> "Qurral, an alchemist, and Derrick . . . who built a golem."
<Brian> Mike snaps his fingers, and slides a piece of paper across the table -- the names are: Ohad Neira, and Price Du`Monte.
Rez blinks.
<Rez> "Oh wait. Their names are Ohad Neira, and . . . Price Du'Monte."
<Brian> "Okay," Relm says. "With both names, I can find out about them. Give me a moment."
<Rez> "Thanks," Rez says as an aside to Mike.
<Brian> She turns her attention to the pool. "No problem," she replies absently. She swirls a finger in the waters, and says, quietly, "Wooed properly, a man of faith will follow you to the ends of Earth, but the ultimate circle of magic is Pax Arcana." Shaking her head, she looks up, though she seems a bit tired. "That's all I can get," she says apologetically, just before the connection gets fuzzy.
<Rez> "That's plenty. Thanks, Relm - be well."
<Brian> She beams a smile at you before the connection vanishes entirely.
<Brian> "Sorry about that," Mike coughs. "Meant to tell you about the independents earlier."
<Rez> "That's fine. I appreciate the help," Rez grins.
<Rez> "So why do you guys favor US, anyway?" he queries.
<Brian> "Alan decided to try and help you out," Mike says, shrugging. "So far, you aren't assholes, like Pax Arcana and the Seventh Cabal."
<Rez> Rez snorts, then grins. "You apparently haven't hung around us long enough, but thanks."
<Brian> He smirks. "Trust me," he says. "Anyway. I've got something you should probably know about the whole process of being who and where you are."
<Rez> "Hm? I'm listening, any advice is good right now."
<Brian> "Okay. So, when you finish your goal, and leave, there are three things that can happen, depending on how your actions fit the role of your host in this world," he begins.
<Brian> "If you are loyal to your host's goals, and follow them exactly, then you run the risk of your host's persona emerging, and destroying your own."
<Rez> Rez blinks.
<Rez> "_Interesting_ . . . I can see that maybe being a problem for one or two of us."
<Brian> He nods. "If you strive to accomplish your own goal, regardless of your host's goals, then when it is time to leave, you will destroy your host, and consume their persona, turning them into a component of yourself ... and taking a piece of this dream back into your own reality."
<Rez> Nathan nods.
<Rez> "What's the third option - do we _have_ to destroy our host?"
<Brian> "If you remain true to yourself, being independent from your host, but accomplish both your own goals and theirs, then you are truly following the path of harmony -- of symmetry, then you will leave, and even though your hosts were dead when you entered the dream, they will live again."
<Brian> He frowns. "This becomes a bit complicated ... but as you can borrow from their strength, they will borrow from yours, too. This is true balance ... though whoever your host was before, he is a dream, and will be tempered by the reality of you ... being ... him for so long."
<Rez> Nathan nods.
<Rez> "Thanks. That was . . . bothering me, a bit."
<Brian> "It's important to know that -- your oracle might not remember everything, and could have guided you towards ... a more destructive path than you had intended."
<Brian> Mike frowns. "I have to return you to the dream now, or you'll forget all of this. Any last questions?"
<Rez> "Just the one. So who is Alan, anyway? Phil mentioned him, too - and who is this 'Wanderer'?"
<Brian> "Well -- I don't have time for that, sorry. Ask tomorrow. Suffice to say they're allies. At times." He shrugs, and then you return to your normal sleep, waking up in the middle of the night with the sense that these memories are burned into place for a short while ... so you won't be forgetting anything any time soon.
Phil and Nathan both wake up after a restful night of dreamless sleep, and a rather interesting visit from other-worldly beings, respectively. The storm-rider camp is rousing, and the moon looks to be about an hour from setting.
Dracos looks around for Nathan's tent to see if he's awake.
Dracos
He is, for once.
"Morning, you. We have another morning meeting with Bjorn in the library. Someone should probably go get Gin, too."
"I assume there is quite a bit to talk about. Where'd ye head off to all of yesterday eve?" Dracos gestured to follow, leading the way towards the library. "And I hope you ordered breakfast."
Dracos
"No. I only just woke up myself, actually."
Rez hums as they walk towards a keep.
"Alrighty. First order of business, find some servants and have them run and get Gin, Bjorn and breakfast? Not necessarily in that order, of course, I am hungry . . ."
"Aye, I hear ya there. Too much hungry work about." Dracos looks about for a servant or four, and sends them off with an order to bring some food about to the library, enough for the squad, as well as to get Bjorn and Ginrai.
Once accomplished he continues to the library.
Dracos
The servants are dispatched, and in short order the breakfast nook that Phil slept in once is reclaimed. It sports a good view of the (still) deserted library, except for the youngish looking man behind the counter (which is next to the door and all the way across the room).
Not long after Phil and Nathan arrive in the library, Bjorn enters.
"Heya Bjorn. Trust you got some sleep?" Dracos sits down, starting to eat as he opened the conversation.
Dracos
"Yes," Bjorn says, taking a seat though not eating. "Yourself?"
Rez grabs some food and starts eating himself.
"Me, I had a dream last night," he mentions, despite the fact that Bjorn wasn't talking to him, "and I didn't get to search Dorian's body because Kevin was asleep, making it hard to get permission. But before we elaborate any, Drac, tell us what you found out about the independents."
"I prefer not to have my head sliced off from being tired on the front, so yes. I tracked down somewhat Elric's anchor that's within the keep, but got interrupted by the caravan. It's somewhere under the large pedastal. Independents, well, one of them is a mage named Qurral and the other an israeli robotics expert named Derrick. The mage is here for a test for his his mage guild in italy. The other was a robotics expert who got caught up in first researching the rabi Judah and then when he came here by accident and found himself with the combination of knowledge necessary to produce a golem, looking for a 'noble' quest for it. I explained a bit about the contest both to see what they'd know and to see where they'd stand on it. Don't know about the mage of yet though both promised to help here. Derrick followed me afterwards and commenting he'd been looking for me, or more specifically a noble cause." Dracos shrugged. "Anyhow, he seemed trustworthy, didn't share much more with him, but I figure if we see him after this, we might have a friend there."
Dracos
Nathan raises an eyebrow at this, but continues on with what he was going to say anyway.
"Well, I had a dream apparently somewhat like yours, in that I spoke to one of the brothers of Morpheus and he let me talk to Relm. In any case, I found out three interesting things from the conversation. First up, Relm tells me that it's May 1st - oh, and that Victor is apparently learning to type."
He starts to snicker, then catches himself.
"Second . . ." Nathan looks distant for a moment, 'Wooed properly, a man of faith will follow you to the ends of Earth, but the ultimate circle of magic is Pax Arcana'. So sayeth Relm, and you can thank the Brothers of Morpheus that I can remember detail like that. Anyway, it seems fairly clear. Aside from that, Alan isn't the wanderer, but he's looking for the wanderer. And the third point of interest is that the Brother I was talking to - Mike Nickley, apparently - told me what happened to our hosts after we leave."
"There are three possibilities. If we stay true to our hosts goals, their personas may emerge and destroy our own. If we stay true to our own goals and ignore those of our host, we'll absorb them as part of ourself. And apparently the third possibility is that if follow both their goals and our own - the path of harmony, Mike called it - despite the fact that they died before we came, they will live again. And they'll borrow from us in the same way as we can borrow from them . . . I have no idea how that would work. But now we know."
"Hmm... So...then what are our goals that are different from our host's goals?"
Dracos
"Perhaps that's something for you to figure out, hmm?"
"Hum.... And on your end?"
Dracos
"Perhaps it's also something for me to figure out, too."
Rez hums.
"Also, I had a talk to Lord Kevin yesterday - explained the whole 'Markham's-not-in-charge-anymore' situation, and basically smoothed over the mess from yesterday's strategy meeting - but please be careful. He and Lammermore are also interested if we can detatch some troops for some combined training maneuvers? A few days practice is better than impromptu, and it's not like we're using every man every day. You're the King, you can find some commanders, and even if it doesn't really help out it's a decent diplomatic gesture."
Bjorn snaps his fingers. "There's something I keep forgetting to mention," he grumbles. "The 'general' on the third night was Markham. You probably want to know that."
He frowns for a minute, still working though what Philip said, and then says, "How much did you tell the independents?"
"Not too much, mostly a brief outline of the contest, what is involved and who is participating in terms of sides and goals. Left out who you guys were and any real world stuff."
Dracos
Bjorn scrubs at his cheek, thinking. "How much did they know before you told them?"
"Less than I guessed. Neither of them knew it existed before I asked them about it." Dracos shrugged. "Didn't expect from what had been said that people would both be aware of these dreamworlds and their nature and yet not be aware of the contest held here."
Dracos
Bjorn makes a face, but changes the subject. "Goals. Some of our other-selves goals are obvious. Nathan has his family sword, Philip has his torc and kingship back, and Parthipan's other-self had something going on in terms of hunting down corruption among the Lorekeepers. Paul's other-self is... up in the air." He glances at Philip. "How much do you know about what's going on with our bard?"
"Given the reaction I got yesterday, I felt it best to keep away from the mess there rather than risk getting them riled up more with Huitz on the line. I was hoping you guys would fill me in later."
Dracos
Bjorn grunts. "Nathan and I searched Dorian's quarters. We found another of the periapts of Solariat, and a nice little sheaf of paper where Dorian confessed to being a traitor. On the other hand, the same papers claimed that Paul was not Durant, a bard, but Verrik of Soth, legendary assassin. So Lindsey is free, but Paul's still in prison, until we can prove he isn't Verrik."
"So what are we going to do about it?"
"Catch Verrik," Bjorn replies succintly. "I'm pretty sure he's around somehwere. Call it a gut instinct, if you want, but those papers were too convenient to be legitimate. Not only that, but I've been stalked by someone at least once, and then someone had to kill those four Interrers -- and I don't see it being Dorian."
"They were, weren't they? I'm somewhat worried about the effect his imprisonment might have on keep morale, actually . . ."
"And on his safety when he's released," Bjorn agrees, mulling it over.
"I have an idea," he says finally, shaking his head, "but it puts Paul at risk, I think, and I've already gotten him knifed once."
"What, get him released, under guard?"
"No." Bjorn shakes his head. "We'd never be able to sell Kevin on that, and I can't blame him, from what I've heard about Verrik. Hell, I don't know that I'd blame him for simply executing Durant out of hand, just to be safe.
"No," Bjorn repeats, "what I was thinking of was starting a rumour. That Paul was in prison, but not because he was a traitor, but because he knew things about the enemy, and we were protecting him." Bjorn shrugs. "It would save his reputation, certainly, and it might even help morale, to know that we had our hands on information so vital we had to protect him. But it would also make him Verrik's next target, likely."
"Problem with that. If Verrick is at all in on the plans with Dorian, he would then know that Dorian left a plant behind just in case to keep it covered up. Of course, why go through that type of planning? Expecting to be killed is a bit odd. Same is revealing that there is an assassin king around here at all. We wouldn't know this prior to it. We wouldn't be expecting it. It's hardly going to distract us from believing there is still likely more traitors around. It doesn't add up correctly. How'd Dorian get an assassin king up here and who was the target? Solariat already sent out assassins for radagast, so it isn't likely it's a backup there."
Dracos
Bjorn frowns. "Well. Dorian claimed to have been able to control Verrik because he had Verrik's knife -- semi-legendary sort of thing in its own right. I don't know that he expected to die. Paul should have died. If that had happened, then we'd all think Verrik was dead, and our guard would be let down, letting the real Verrik have free play. I'm betting that Dorian's periapt gave him the lore of Gates -- that's the only way to reconcile the stuff in Paul's journal with the fact that Dorian was in the Keep for the past ten years. I'm guessing he planned to skip out after last night's siege, going down south. It's worth pointing out that Dorian's 'confession' talked about his ties with the Dreadmarch, but not, as far as we know, his ties with Solariat.
"As for his target?" Bjorn shrugs. "Why limit yourself to one? I'm guessing Verrik is here to kill anyone and everyone that starts proving themselves too useful. Which is why he went after Breke's blades when he had the chance."
Dracos pondered. "Legendary knife? Hum. Bear with me for a moment. First off, shouldn't we be able to tell with the pariapt? Can't one of our mages examine it or, bar that, I can help radagst privately with my sight? Better than guessing. Second off, that explanation doesn't make sense. Why, if paul was suppose to die, would we even see the journal explanation to begin with? The only way we'd even know that Verrik was ever here would be Dorian saying it. And planting those papers on a dead Paul wouldn't have been worth anything except causing suspicion on Dorian and what's the point there? Even leaving the papers behind doesn't work. An assassin we don't even know is here is far and above more effective than an assassin we know is here. And really, unless holding the knife magically interests Verrik in going above and beyond the call of duty, why would he really look into killing more than he needed to?"
Dracos hummed.
"So...aside from those questions....who has that knife now? And in having it, do we have control of Verrik if he's out there? And moreso, can we not set a trap with it?"
Dracos
"The papers -- not Paul's journal, which is a different thing entirely, and lost -- were on Dorian's room," Bjorn says patiently, "not on Paul or on Dorian himself. They were also written in Elvish, which makes it just hard enough for most people to read to assume Dorian thought it safe. Remember, we know there's an assassin, one who's been running free in the South before the siege and in the Keep now. Killing Paul and then setting him up as Verrik would make us think that we'd found the assassin, and that we didn't have anything to worry about, all in one stroke. It would get us to relax the guard, and make it easier for the real assassin to go about his business.
"And I don't see why the knife has to 'magically compel' Verrik to do anything. There's lots of people working for the Dreadmarch of their own volition -- why not him? He's got a grudge against Liena as is, apparently, which is more than enough motivation." He shrugs. "If you assume that everything Dorian wrote was a lie -- and why wouldn't you? -- then why believe the knife would grant any control over Verrik, one way or the other? The legends don't suggest any sort of link that way, they just say that the knife is both powerful, and precious to him."
"So what we're basically concluding is that there is a nasty-powerful assassin out there and we all need to watch our backs - and you want to use Paul as bait. I don't think the prison is really the best place for that, because the guards can't see into his cell."
"I don't want to use him as bait," Bjorn says, slightly sharply. "The best way I thought of to keep morale up and save his reputation would make him bait. And as I said, I'm not keen on that.
"We have to keep in mind, though, that no matter what we do, Paul's a prime target, if Verrik or any other assassin really is here."
"Alright, you are suggesting using him as bait - I didn't mean 'want', but . . . gah. You know what I mean. But the fact that he might be a loose end . . . ehh, I don't know what to do."
Bjorn shrugs, leaning back in his seat. "We're back where we started," he says, "catch Verrik. Unless someone has a better explanation for all the evidence at hand," he says, cocking an eyebrow at Philip.
"Guys... A second... Who HAS the knife at the moment? If I was a mighty assassin who found a knife precious and it just happened to fall into the hands of someone I was already planning on killing...how likely do you think I'd be not to go right for that kill and retrieve my favorite knife? My point was more, the knife makes potential bait as well. Anyhow, the story STILL doesn't play right. Our guard wouldn't be relaxed from finding out that we caught Verrik and executed him. Far from it, with multiple instances of assassination attempts, we'd just get more paranoid from having another example of how far the enemy is willing to go and what quality of assassin they are buying. It almost a silly expectation to think we'd get less paranoid at it. Additionally, I don't care how it's dressed up, an assassin you don't even have a clue exists is a great deal more effective then an assassin you know is there. Sure, there would exist a delightful irony in having us kill someone useful to use, but aside from that...hum.... Paul was supposed to have died. Something seems off. What did paul say about the whole encounter?"
Dracos
"That he got stabbed by Dorian and he wasn't expecting it, then Lindsey healed him and they chased Dorian out to the wall where he started shooting at Lorekeepers," Rez says bluntly, "No, this doesn't add up. There's no reason for Verrik to imply that he was here, if indeed he is. As to the knife making potential bait, that makes little sense given that by saying that you have to say he knew where it was in the first place, and so I don't think that wherever the knife is is in any particular danger. If we know anything about a target, Paul would be it, because whoever's been working against him has already apparently taken steps - and since it doesn't seem to have entirely worked, they may well take more. Wheover it was had a perfect opportunity to retrieve the knife without us ever knowing it was there, and didn't."
Nathan draws in a breath.
"I don't see any explanation that entirely fits right now. We found the knife of a legendary assassin. We know that Dorian shot at the Lorekeepers, and thusly was a traitor - probably working for Solariat, because we found a periapt. We suspect that someone planted some of the letters on Dorian's desk, but we aren't sure. We know that someone removed Paul's journal."
"Those are what we know. So from there we can theorise that the reason someone removed Paul's journal was to remove the evidence that he wasn't Verrik. That means someone wants him to stay in prison. Why? Honestly, we don't have information that Verrik is here at all - just that someone is apparently dancing around in the shadows. And that, really, is all we know. But if they did plant that information in Dorian's room then they could also have removed the knife, and they didn't. I'm tempted to call it a red herring."
He shrugs helplessly.
"Am I making sense, or?"
"I don't think the papers were planted," Bjorn disagrees, "or at least, not in the sense that it wasn't Dorian who left them there. Both Kevin and Liandral, at the least, should know Dorian's handwriting. I think Dorian had to be involved with them.
"And there's a simple reason to mention Verrik's name. We know there's an assassin walking around, and that's common knowledge. But we might also have known that the assassin was Verrik." He looks around at the others. "Our security's gotten better," he points out. "There hasn't been any sign that the Dreadmarch has been listening in on our strategy sessions any more. If they were trying to convince us that the assassin they'd put in here was gone, they wouldn't take a risk by dropping the name of a false assassin. It would tip their hand."
"You know, you didn't answer who has the knife and...I don't get it. Why would naming some other assassin tip the hand that Verrik is here?"
Dracos
Bjorn scrubs at his face tiredly. "Kevin took charge of the knife," he answers, "and that probably means Ekim has it now.
"As for the other... naming another assassin if we knew Verrik was here would tip us off that this whole thing was a snow-job. The best lie is mostly truth, right? So rather than taking the risk that we've already guessed what assassin is running around, they'd name the true assassin -- but point us at someone else. And given that Durant actually was an assassin, why would we doubt them?"
Nathan shakes his head. "Now we're just jumping to conclusions. Look, we ain't going to get a straight out answer to this, either way - and another possible explanation for the papers is that since Dorian knew he was going to kill Paul, may as well leave something incriminating on the guy behind if Paul did get him. Somewhat reaching, but possible. But yeah, we're not going to get a straight out answer to this. So what do we do - or do we just sit around and wait and hope something falls into our laps?"
Bjorn shakes his head. "All right. Let's start from the beginning. Does anyone here believe Paul -- or his other-self, anyways -- actually is Verrik?"
He holds up a hand warningly. "Bear with me. Yes or no."
"Not really, no."
Dracos shrugs. "I don't know enough about verrik to say anything there."
Dracos
With a glance at Philip, Bjorn continues. "All right, then. Then to get Paul free, we have to be able to prove that he isn't Verrik. At the same time, he was an assassin working for Dorian -- who was Fletcher, by the way -- and we have to hide that fact.
"Nothing Paul can say or do will convince people he isn't Verrik, not with Verrik's reputation. The only way we can prove what we need to prove is to find someone privy to Dreadmarch plans, and who can tell us that, yes indeed, Durant is not Verrik. Which is why I hope that the real Verrik is running around in the Keep, by the way, because I have a hard time imagining what evidence short of catching him will be able to convince everyone.
"So. Unless Dorian was responsible for everything, which seems unlikely, there's at least one more assassin in the Keep. He's our best lead, as far as I can see, so we need to catch him. Of course, we've been trying to do that all along, so we need to ask: in the face of all that's happened, what would our hypothetical assassin do next?"
"All right, let's review the facts." He starts ticking things off on his fingers. "I asked Paul to go check on the meeting place with Fletcher. I also asked, unknown to Paul, Lindsey to follow him, to make sure things went okay. When Paul got to the meeting place, Dorian came up behind him. He admitted to being Fletcher, told Paul he'd failed at his mission, and then knifed him. Lindsey was able to save Paul before he died.
"Then the two of them followed Dorian to the tower, caught him shooting at the Lorekeepers, and killed him. Afterwards, Nathan and I searched Dorian's room. We found the periapt, the same sort of arrows that had been used in the shootings, Verrik's knife, and a written confession by Dorian, where he admitted to being an agent of the Dreadmarch -- not of Solariat -- and where the Verrik accusation was made.
"As well, Paul's journal has disappeared. On one hand, that journal incriminates him, since it as much as says that he'd done various dirty work for Fletch.. Dorian. On the other hand, the journal also makes it pretty clear that Durant isn't Verrik. The journal used to be in Paul's room, but it's gone. No servants clean Paul's room, by his request. I talked to a servant who'd be around most of the past day, and he hadn't seen anyone go into Paul's room."
Bjorn puts down his hands. "Okay. So far, all fact. Now, it seems pretty obvious that Paul was supposed to die in the first knifing, unless you want to assume that Dorian could see invisible people. This in turn suggests that Dorian wasn't supposed to die, because if Paul and Lindsey hadn't followed him, he likely would have been able to finish off Parthipan, Astryd, and Serril, and then there'd be no one left to finger him.
"I think it's also equally obvious that we were supposed to search Dorian's room and find what we did. The stuff was just crammed in a flimsy footlocker, and the papers just lying on his desk. It wouldn't have been that hard to hide things a little better."
Scratching his forearm, Bjorn sighs. "How you put it together is speculation. I've made it clear what I think, at least. But what I think is beyond question is this: Paul is a loose end, and whatever their plan was, the Dreadmarch needs him to die in an 'accident' as soon as possible."
"Definitely."
Nathan takes another bite of breakfast as he thinks.
"We might be able to sell this to Kevin, you know. At the least he won't laugh us off as barking mad."
"Sell what to Kevin?" Bjorn asks, raising an eyebrow. "The problem with talking to anyone about this is trying to avoid the questions that lead straight to the temple of Hammar."
"That he may not actually be Verrik - and that he may well be a loose end. And as to questions leading back to the Temple of Hamar, well . . . the unfortunate thing is that we're probably going to have to risk that. Otherwise our only option seems to be to leave him in the dungeon until and unless we find Verrik, and you'll forgive me for saying that your reasoning is sorta tenuous there."
"Offer me another explanation that fits the facts," Bjorn grumbles. "Regardless. Whether the assassin is Verrik or not, there's someone out there, and we have to catch him.
"As for 'taking that risk,'' Bjorn says, meeting Nathan's gaze evenly, "if that gets out, you are sentencing Paul to death. He will be executed, unless we spill everything, and Kevin believes it. That's more than a long shot."
Holding Nathan's eyes for a second more, he looks away, and shrugs. "Kevin already knows that Paul might not be Verrik. He's just not willing to take a risk. Suggesting he increase the guard can't hurt, and he'd likely do it even if he was convinced that Paul was Verrik. On the other hand, if the current protection isn't sufficient, what else can we do?"
"Alright," Nathan takes another mouthful of breakfast, "I suppose I just don't like leaving people in the lurch - or without backup. For that matter, I'd rather he works towards our goals as well, a little past having completed that of his host."
"Better in the lurch then dead. We'll have to keep our eyes open. Anything else before we get on with 'making sure we don't die from the obvious threat' today?"
Dracos
Before the conversation can go any further, Ginrai steps into the room, spotting you as he enters.
"Parth, you're late. Sit down, eat breakfast, wake up."
Dracos
"Yeah, sorry about that." Ginrai grabs some food and something to drink. "So, what did I miss?"
"Paul's in jail. We think an assassin king is wandering around using him as a decoy. We're trying to figure out how to stop him and set paul free. Everything else you were pretty much there for. Anyhow, was there anything else we needed to trade notes on prior to figuring out the plan for the day?"
Dracos
"What was found in Dorian's room? And did Radagast say we were going to check out the pedestal before or after tonight's battle?"
"Okay, wait one second," Bjorn says, raising a hand forestallingly. "I meant to ask this earlier but -- there's something beneath the perch out in the courtyard? What's down there?"
"I didn't get a chance to investigate it, what with the interruptions and all but... there's some magical line of power that runs from Elric over the wall and down below there. We were trying to track it down with Radagast and Ekim before the whole caravan stuff happened."
Dracos
"No, what I mean is: there's something under there but rock and earth? I didn't know that."
"Well, Radagast mentioned some crystal down there, so I assume there are some basement rooms below the pedestal."
Dracos
Bjorn starts. "The crystal is down there?" he asks, unbelieving, and then frowns. "That could be bad. And unfortunately, very plausible."
"It could also mean that the entire incident with Mirallia and the Archonae was just some act on their part since they would want us to use this crystal. Bjorn, did we learn anything about the crystal when we found it?"
"Beyond the fact that people think it's the crystal of Aestock, no." Bjorn shakes his head. "I have a hard time believeing that the Dreadmarch planned for us to retrieve this crystal in particular, though. We should have died in the first ambush, and even surviving that, there was little or no chance we'd make it through the pass -- or take the time to recover the crystal. We almost didn't, remember?
"If this crystal is giving Elric power -- and right now that's still an if -- then most likely all the crystals could. Most of the stories say they were made by the Archonae, which makes them suspect."
"What other crystals are there then? And where are they?"
Dracos
"One for each god," Bjorn replies. "The crystal of Hammar is kept by the Archonae. It's the one that was supposed to be use. The crystal of Liena is in... some place in the Southlands. Wells? Something like that."
"If this is the case...we could actually probably retrieve them. It'd be dangerous, but as far as I know, there is nothing restricting the gates from transporting a small squad around. Anyhow...what do these crystals do?"
Dracos
Bjorn shifts in his seat. "The crystal keeps the magically protected fear and despair of the Dreadmarch from overwhelming us and rendering us unable to fight. If Elric is really getting power from it, we're stuck between a rock and a hard place. As for retrieving the other crystals -- well, no one fight a war on two fronts if they have a choice, and getting the crystal away from the Archonae is going to take about that much."
He shakes his head. "We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's make sure it's the crystal first, before we start panicking."
"I'll see about checking that out after tonight's battle. if you want, you can join us."
Dracos
Bjorn grunts sourly. "The way things have been going, I'll have a whole new set of problems to deal with after tonight.
"Now, before I forget..." Bjorn rapidly repeats what he's found out about Dorian and Durant to Parthipan.
"Hum...Bjorn, who else knows that Markham was the general?"
Dracos
"Probably no one," Bjorn says, raising an eyebrow. "I saw him through Lindsey's eyes when she went out on her scouting mission, and I'm not sure she made the connection."
"Okay... I want it to stay that way. I don't care a whit about the fellow either way, but it's unpredictable how it'd effect the rest of the storm-riders and specifically his clansmen. Sure, could push them further into realizing what doom they escaped, but just as likely would leave me either with a clan striving to pull itself out of the shame of markham and being crazy while doing so or any other number of negatives. Right now they are winning. I want to keep that in their mind."
Dracos pondered. "there was something else I almost forgot. I was experimenting earlier and well... we can pull more than just our powers across. Physical abilities, and even becoming our real selves here, is possible."
Dracos
Bjorn frowns, scratching at his beard. "That's good to know," he says slowly. "If nothing else, it's a reliable disguise."
Dropping his hand back to the table, he looks around. "That's pretty much everything I've found out," he says. "So, what are we missing?"
"Can one make a someone unwilling into a dreadmarch general, or do they have to be willing?" Rez queries.
"I don't know," Bjorn says, thoughtfully. "Not sure we can find out, either, if you really want to keep this quiet."
"I might ask Radagast," Rez hums . . . "But Drac, watch out on the whole 'keeping secrets' thing, because if they find out another way you're for the high jump. Would anyone else know of this?"
"No, I'm not. Because I never heard it. Neither did you. I never saw the general. If I find out about it from some public source later, I will be about as surprised as I am having heard it the first time and act accordingly then." Dracos shrugged.
Dracos
Rez looks vaguely annoyed at this, but nods.
"Ah, yes," Bjorn says ironically. "Plausible deniability. The last refuge of all great politicians."
Looking around, he adds, in a more serious tone, "Anything else?"
"Hmm... speaking of Markham, whatever happened to the traitor?"
"Markham had him run off before I challenged Markham for his title."
Dracos
"And it's possible that he later on he helped capture Markham, meaning the cause of his death was likely his own fault. And even if it wasn't, from the sound of it, Markham might have also been a traitor. Just why do you want to prevent this from being known to the other storm-riders?"
Dracos sighed. "Look, the guy was a traitor through and through. But he is dead now, and that's not important. We have to keep aware of doing the actions that result in the most good for those around us. He was a traitor, but a traitor who was at one point king of thirty thousand of the men out there who are fighting and clan head of about five thousand of them. I can't see anything good coming from going around and sharing that he was a traitor. At best it might drive a few people to greater berserkerdom against the enemy. At worst, well...I can't even see which would be the worst outcome. At the least it's poking at an open wound for those of his clan. They've already had it revealed that one of their leaders was a traitor. They've had their previous 'star' nearly killed and thrown out of the storm-riders. I don't see anything good about having it get passed around that there was even more crimes than they knew about comitted by those they trusted in. So whether Markham went off and hid in the wilderness or betrayed us to the enemy isn't that important. He's not important anymore and should just fade into the background rather than having his actions do any more damage to those here."
Dracos
"How'd Lindsey know who he was, anyway?" Rez queries, changing the subject.
"She didn't," Bjorn replies. "But if I want to, I can share the senses of somebody who's attached to the mindboard. And I saw a storm-rider, dressed in fancy armour, protesting that he had once been king." Bjorn snorts faintly. "That made the conclusion obvious to me. Lindsey might well be able to draw the same conclusion, but I suspect she knows and cares less about storm-rider politics."
"That sounds about right, yup. Is there anything else we need to worry about?"
Before anything else can be said, a trio of guards scurry into the room, spot the four as they discuss plans, and then troop over immediately.
"Lord Bloom, Sirs Shuker and Bjorn, Loremaster Parthipan," the guard says, bowing his head to each in turn. "Lord Kevin requests your presence in his office."
"Certainly. Let's be off, gentlemen."
Dracos rose, leading the way to Kevin's office.
Dracos
Rez stuff some breakfast into some bread, makes a quick sandwich, and follows after Drac - bolting down the remnants of breakfast as he goes, of course.
Ginrai finishes his drink, gets up and follows the others.
Bjorn rises, re-settles his armour on his shoulders, and follows the guard.
After following the guard through what is swiftly becoming familiar territory, the group is led into the office of Lord Kevin, which looks about the same as it did the last time a meeting was held here.
Currently in attendance are Jeff, Donovan, Radagast, Kevin, Lammermore (who's walking, again, and dressed in his battle armor), Ekim, Eske, Devin, Mirallia, and Astryd. The others are arrayed at the table in a semi-random fashion, Lammermore now pacing anxiously back and forth behind Kevin's chair.
The Sword of Seven Shadows and (one supposes) Verrick's dagger are set carefully on the table before Ekim, his anvil/shield sitting nearby. The dwarf shifts his position slightly, brushing at a dull spot on his armor. "Welcome," Kevin says, nodding as the group enters. "Please. Be seated."
Dracos nods, taking a seat.
Dracos
Bjorn takes his seat beside Mirallia, and waits patiently.
Nathan steps inside and sits next to Drac, looking around the room curiously.
Parthipan takes the seat between Astryd and Devin.
Once everyone is seated, Kevin nods. "Okay," he says, drumming a fingertip on the table. "The rest of the Storm-rider command staff should arrive soon."
Just as he says that, the doors open, and the Storm-rider command staff pours into the room, quickly sitting as close to Nathan and Phil as possible.
"Very good," Kevin says, smiling softly. "Now. To discuss a few important events?"
The Storm-rider lords, lorekeepers, and Lammermore nod.
"The first order of business," Kevin says, as Lammermore takes a seat next to him, placing his palms flat against the table. "We have captured someone we suspect to be Verrick the Unseen -- assasin king of Soth. Radagast has been studying the blade of this villain. Loremaster?" He looks at Radagast inquisitively.
Radagast nods, and coughs quietly, clearing his throat. "Ah. I have studied the weapon for a time, and come to the conclusion that this blade does exactly fit the description of Verrick the Unseen's weapon."
Kevin looks uncomfortable. "Durant is Verrick, then?" he asks.
"No," Radagast says, shaking his head. "Or, at least ... I don't think so. It's a magical weapon, yes ... and it fits the description, yes ... but we don't really know if it was made just to cast a guilty light on Master Durant or if it is truely legitimate."
Kevin grunts, and glances at Lammermore, who looks skeptical.
"Or if the blade is truly legitimate," Bjorn adds quietly, "and planted as a distraction to free the true Verrik to go about his business. For a weapon of such danger and significance, it was not very well hidden.
"I think it might be best to increase the guards watching over Master Durant," Bjorn says, with a glance at Nathan, "and to make sure that he is actually being watched at all times. If he is Verrik, then all precautions must be taken. If he is not Verrik, then he may very well be killed to prevent him from unveiling the deception. In the meantime, though, I think we must proceed with the assumption that there is an assassin with free rein in the Keep."
"Lovely," Lammermore says, rubbing his chin. "We've room in the keep ... if it's not offensive, we could offer to move the officers of the storm-riders into the keep. If, of course, you're agreeable to the idea, Lord Bloom." Lammermore gives Phil a look that's not exactly frosty, but is a bit wary. "We could increase the guard that way by allowing some of the Storm-rider swordsmen -- we could easily let word get out that while you accept our hospitality, you couldn't accept the dishonor of taking comfortable quarters without sharing that kindness with at least a fraction of your own men," he poses. "Adding more guards to watch over Durant ... or Verrik, as he may be ... is a much more simple matter."
Bjorn nods at Lammermore. "It's also a matter of how he's guarded, I think, as much as how many men are watching him. But this might be a discussion better suited for after tonight's siege."
"I don't know about that, Bjorn. With our attention on the battlefield it would likely be the best time to accomplish anything regarding him, whether breaking him out or killing him." Dracos turned blinking slightly at Lammermore. "Such a show of hospitality would be appreciated and I'm certain my men would be happy to provide extra guards for the keep....hum..." Dracos blinked, a thought coming to him. "Didn't...Mattias say something about the wards on the keep? 'fixing' them or some such?"
Dracos
At Phil's words, The Storm-rider commanders nod, and Devin smacks himself on the forehead. "I won't be able to focus on creating new earthenworks," he says, shaking his head. "I have to ensure that the wall has actually been strengthened."
Lammermore frowns at this, as does Kevin.
"Well, glad we've time for that," Kevin says. "We do have time, right?"
Devin nods, scowling. "I checked the status of the wall. They'll be safe for this siege, certainly probably the next as well. But I don't trust Mattias's wards on them. Not now."
Kevin grunts. "Very well. We'll increase the guard on Durant, the Storm-riders will move in and help increase our guard to keep a watch out for assasins, and Devin is going to study the wall to ensure that it's safe. Do we use a new strategy tonight?" He shoots a glance at Parthipan, but says nothing to him.
Dracos glances at Parthipan, question clearly directed at him. "Has any magical scouting been done as to tonight's general or how they are arraying their troops?"
Dracos
"I was planning on doing so after the meeting. If you want I can go and check on them now."
"I think that might be best, Master Parthipan," Bjorn says, a touch drily. "As this is a planning meeting, information collected after it is over would be of considerably less benefit."
"We haven't time, now," Radagast says, shaking his head. "For good or ill, you needed the rest you took."
"Moving on, then," Lammermore says, glancing around. "I believe that the Storm-riders and the keep-defenders worked quite well yesterday.
"I also believe that we've had truly fantastic blessings as far as our losses have been concerned thus far. It's inevitable, however, that we're going to be drawn into worse, and therefore, I think it's also the case that any losses thus far ... have been losses we still can't afford."
Lord Rogers, and the other Storm-riders lords nod in agreement at this. "What say you, then?" Lammermore asks, looking across the table. "Tonight can bring anything. How do we prepare for it?"
"I spoke previously with Mistress Astryd about using illusion to create an illusion of the moat being widened, and the path being shifted, as the Dreadmarch approached," Bjorn offers. "While perhaps not as effective as the earthenworks, it should serve to confuse the charge, providing us with the same opportunity to thin their ranks before contact. Though this would be for another night's battle."
He chews his bottom lip for a second, thinking, and then continues. "Last night's strategy served us well, I think, except in regards to the Jotun. The question then is if we have a way to deal with them more effectively."
"Could extend the protection of the wall into the air," Devin says, sighing. "If we could trust Mattias. But otherwise ... I do not know."
Radagast chews his lower lip thoughtfully, and turns to Parthipan. "Windmaster Parthipan -- can you manage a screen of air that can cover a wide area? Say, the area before the earthenworks?" he asks.
Ginrai nods. "I'll be able to do that."
Bjorn nods back at Parthipan. "Then I think we should array ourselves in the same general manner. And now, the question becomes: were we the Dreadmarch, what would we do to counter the tactics the Keep used last night?"
"Has the dreadmarch used any magic yet?"
Dracos
"I suspect that would strongly depend on which of the Generals we faced," Lammermore says after a pause.
"Among other things," Radagast says, frowning. "Ah, I don't think we've seen any sign of Lorekeepers on the side of the Dreadmarch. Save Mattias, Neil, and Ashton," he adds. "But we'll need to be quite wary of the Archon, I imagine."
"Yes they have," Nathan notes, "Just not very much of it. The second general made that barrier, which seemed to be for the specific purpose of killing as many of our leaders as possible. Additionally, when I was talking to Mattias via a . . . speaking stone or some such that he'd enchanted to allow long distance communication, someone not only listened in but interrupted us and broke the stones. And of course they have Elric, who's capable of some such."
"In answer to Bjorn's earlier question, I'd be almost tempted on their end to, well . . . if we're sitting back and waiting for them to charge, just pepper us with arrows," Nathan shrugs, "Or try something similar to the second day's trick on us again. I'd guess that after the mess we made of yesterday's general they'll use a quite different approach, though - they've only got so long to get us, after all."
"Um, Nathan, that was with Mattias, so the information there is suspect. Though I'd bet my beard they do in fact have some lore avaliable to them to use against us. Really, what I'd do is put the general towards the rear and force us to take some losses. They have the numbers to spare and having a fight of attrition now would be bad for morale and our numbers in general. But then, that's not something we can really plan to counter if they do it."
Dracos
"Trebuchets," Radagast says, shaking his head. "And beyond that, our lorekeepers. If they were to hold back and stay away from our men, that would make them easy targets for spells such as the one Windmaster Parthipan demonstrated early in the siege. Our trebuchets, they wouldn't know about. But they would be effective in the same way.
"At any rate, they need to get through the gate to defeat us, and sitting back won't make that easy. Obviously, though, they will make it a proirity to weaken our morale."
"Hmm," Kevin muses. "With their assasin here ... it's quite possible they don't HAVE anything else planned. At least, not at the moment. With everything else to wound our morale and take out out best and brightest...."
He trails off, looking around the table to gauge reactions.
"That's reasonable," Bjorn says, thoughtfully. "Certainly they've showed no signs of tactics to date. For the time being, I think they'll simply rely on the same brute force approach, and the snakes within our walls."
"We can't depend on that for long," Lammermore mutters. "But for the time being, I agree. We're running low on people who can even be traitors, now."
Lord Rogers snorts at this, and Donovan raises an eyebrow.
"Regardless, I think our plan for battle is largely comlete, then. Unless there's more to address?" he asks, looking around the table again.
"Not as far as I know," Bjorn replies, shaking his head.
"Sounds as fit as we can make it to me." Dracos voiced agreement.
Dracos
"A thought," Donovan says, before anyone can mention getting ready to leave. Very calm and composed, he leans forward, his fingers laced together before him, and his elbows resting on the table. "While we're focusing on the battle, we must also remember something important that has been mentioned, but not addressed." Everyone turns to look at Donovan curiously.
The white-haired man manages the faintest hint of of a smile. "We must remember that while we ourselves are confident, our armies have morale to maintain. I've not heard of a single defection since the siege began ... or anyone deserting. But at the same ... we can ill afford to press our luck."
"An excellent point," Bjorn acknowledges, nodding at Donovan. "Until now, we've been relying on Master Durant's efforts to keep morale high, I think." He looks at everyone. "Needless to say, this is no longer an option."
He threads his fingers together and places his hands on the table. "I don't think it's an issue so far, at least among the soldiers of the Keep. We've won all the battles quickly and decisively, with few casualties. But, as Sir Lammermore said, that will likely change for the worse, and soon. What do we need to do to keep hopes high?"
"Unless we can expose some amazing falibility in our opponents," Donovan says, "then we must rely on the old tricks.
"The task falls upon us," he says, looking around at everyone squarely. "I don't think a single one of us -- except, perhaps you, Jeff -- can be seen in public and not recognized.
"If we're seen in public and look calm, relaxed, and comfortable -- and make it a point to spend a lot of time not harried, but still focused, then that will help in a subtle way. But more overt measures would also be welcome. This does, of course, give us worry about an assasin, should one be lurking about ... but the danger will be lessened if we're about soldiers loyal to our cause, which is the point.
"Further than that, a bard's stories, as mentioned before, are quite welcome. We could summon a bard, with the power of the lorekeepers." Donovan frowns. "What else?" he asks.
Bjorn frowns, sifting through his other-self's memories to try and recall what he knows about the sports and competitions of this world.
OOC: KNO: Upper Kingdoms to answer this question.
Bjorn recalls a few things -- mostly wrestling, something like kick-boxing (pretty brutal), and something called Hunter-Hunted, which is a combination of Rugby and Capture the Flag.
"Competitions," Bjorn says, thoughtfully. "Organized matches of wrestling, or Hunter-Hunted, perhaps. It would give the men something to do other than worry about the next battle between sieges, and if they have time to play, how seriously can they be taking their enemy?" He looks around at the table, gauging people's reactions.
Dracos raises an eyebrow in slight disbelief at the suggestion, but doesn't say anything against it.
"Well," Lammermore says slowly, looking between Bjorn and Phil, "playing games will relax the men. And would run the risk of causing our men to perhaps become ... too relaxed." He hesitates for a second, and then says, "But in all truth, Hunter-Hunted was used where I grew up as battle-field training. It's intense, and requires teamwork, coordination, timing, and skill. A fair bit of strength doesn't hurt, either."
"I don't want our men getting injured in a violent game, but...." Kevin frowns. "What if we were to run an organized tournament, then? Allow the men -- our men and any Storm-riders, perhaps mixed teams -- to play? If we modified the play so that they were in armor, they'd move more slowly ... but it would be good training for their endurance and lessen the risk of injuries."
"Certainly it would lessen their injuries to the point that I or another like myself could assure they were still able to fight," Mirallia interjects, causing everyone except for Donovan to blink and look at the priestess, who they all seem to have forgotten was there.
"Right," Lammermore says after a moment. "Um ... your name is Jeff?" he asks, looking at the vassal next to Donovan.
Jeff nods.
"Very well ... how hard would it be for you to impliment a tournament using the rules of Hunter-Hunted, with the added requirement of armor, and get the soldiers to join? You're recognized for your position -- this would fit Sir Temlis's suggestion perfectly. A senior officer, obviously unconcerned, actively promoting something that would distract everyone involved from the war and even give them something to cheer about," Lammermore decides. "I think this is a fine idea. Especially since it will help train our men together -- better, if we can get teams of mixed keep defenders and Storm-riders."
Donovan raises an eyebrow, and then nods. "It will work," he decides. "Jeff, that will be your task from now on. Make sure that it doesn't become too intense, but that it does what we want it to do."
Jeff nods in acceptance of this.
"Very good," Kevin decides. "Now, time grows short. Anything else, or shall we assemble at the gates?"
Bjorn shakes his head in the negative.
"Nothing else here." Dracos stands. "Let's hope victory smiles upon us so kindly again."
Dracos
"Much agreed," Kevin says.
Lammermore takes the yellow-and-black-bound sword from the table, grimacing, and belts it on. "And here is to hoping that we do not need to rely on luck," he says.
After that, everyone moves to their positions, Parthipan returning to his tower of choice, and the others standing inside the gate, preparing for what is to come.
Everyone now moves to In the Hall of the Mountain King (http://pishoque.net/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?p=39444#39444).