Successful Mission

[Bjorn]

'Making yourself comfortable,' Bjorn has decided, is something that happens to be people who aren't wearing forty pounds or so of metal.  Pulling out a chair for Mirallia, he sits himself down, shifting slightly.  It's important to stay upright, if you don't want to end up prone -- this is the key.

"To begin with," Bjorn says, "those very effective traps of yours... were they magic?  Or were they explosives?"

[Brian]

Radagast raises one eyebrow as he brings his pipe up to his lips, and clenches it in place with his teeth.  "Well," he says around the stem, pressing his hands against the table.  After a moment, he nods.  "We shouldn't be overheard," he says.

"I know very little of this world's true Lores ... my powers are different.  I speak with birds, and flying insects ... they've always fascinated me.  I do have some other, small powers, but that, those traps ... those were called mines.  I was left instructions for how to assemble a small number of things, and that was one of them.  This is what I asked Ekim to help me make," he explains.  "The others were glass," he continues, pointing to the windows of this room, which are glass, "and a few other tools that allowed me to demonstrate power to the Collegiate, which was required for Loremastery.  I was allowed to not choose a true 'path' because I never trained beneath an Archon, as most other Lorekeepers do."

[Bjorn]

"I thought as much," Bjorn says, thoughtfully.  "The next question is: how well do you understand the principle of the mines?  For example," he grins, "purely hypothetically, do you think you could make a version that could be thrown by trebuchet, to explode on impact or after a certain time had passed?"

[Brian]

Radagast blinks at this, and rubs his chin.  "The only schematics I was left were for ... it would take some doing.  Impact ... no ... but I could craft timers, I think.  That might help," he agrees.  "I've ... Ekim will need time to make the casings, of course."

[Bjorn]

"A two part casing," Bjorn amends.  "The explosives in the core, and then around it, small fragments of metal or stone -- gravel, or nails, or the like.  It will make it all the more damaging."  He considers.  "It probably won't hurt if they're not ready for tonight, though it would be nice.  At least we'll have a surprise waiting for them.

"On another note... what can you tell me about Lindsey?  Parthipan mentioned that you'd seen something about her."

[Brian]

"Mmm.  I've plans for a type of mine my creator called a 'claymore'," Radagast says, the English word sounding at odds to ... whatever language you've become accustomed to speaking.  "It used many small beads of metal as projectiles."

"As far as Lindsey," he says, brooding, "I know only that she is not from this world.  Like yourself."

[Bjorn]

"The 'claymore' is the same principle," Bjorn agrees.  "The shock of the explosion does damage, but only within a short distance.  Surrounding it by small beads of metal -- or anything, really -- makes it act as an arrow-storm, as well."

"So.  An out-worlder, but nothing else?  Do you know of anything of the sort of person she's supposed to be?  What is her role here, as priestess of Aestock, for example?"

[Brian]

"Well, representatives of all three churches assemble -- traditionally -- for the defense of the keep," Radagast says, frowning.  "The church of Hammar provides inspiration to the troops, and leadership and tactics on the battlefield."

Mirallia nods, and says, "The followers of Liena, of course, are the primary healers and combat medics.  The followers of Aestock traditionally provide a voice or reason in conflict.  They work as negotiators and mediators to keep conflicts between any defenders at bay until the work of protecting the keep is finished.  When a soldier is troubled, but his body is well, they often confess their sins to the church of Aestock.  He offers absolution, and peace of mind for the conflict."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn drums his fingers along the table, one quick staccatto burst.  "I see.  I presume you've never met Lindsey before in any other capacity.  What about her vassals?  Were any of them outworlders?"

[Brian]

"No," he says, shaking his head.  "But I've found a third I couldn't tell Parthipan about, yet.  Hmm.  One of the Lorekeepers -- Serril Dewer, of the Path of Fire.  I think there are five ... as there are five of you."

[Bjorn]

"Third?" Bjorn says sharply, leaning forward before remembering himself.  Pulling himself back up against the weight of the armour (Goddamn, I'm tired), he says, "Who's the other?  Lindsey, this Dewer, and...?"

[Brian]

"I'm not honestly certain," Radagast says, appologetically.  "He left the keep before the Dreadmarch arrived.  I think he went north."

[Bjorn]

"North to join the Dreadmarch," Bjorn says, not really a question.  "You have no clues as to who he is?  No, nevermind," he immediately answers his own question, "if you had, you've have said already.  My apologies."

He thinks for a second.  "There's definitely five of them," Bjorn says.  "Presuming there's nothing to strange about the relationship between timelines, anyways.... er, sorry.  Thinking out loud."

Sighing, he continues, "We really need to know more about these two.  If they're working for the Dreadmarch...." He drums his fingers, once again, across the table.  "I think, perhaps, it's time for me to talk with Madame Lindsey."

[Brian]

Radagast blinks.  "You think she's working for the enemy?" he asks.  "She set the stone and performed the ceremony that protects the keep from the dread, though...."  He trails off, and sighs.  "Probably, you are correct," he mumbles.  "Did you wish me to accompany you, or can you handle this yourself?" he asks.

[Bjorn]

"I don't know she's working for the enemy," Bjorn admits, grudgingly.  "We... if she is who I think she is, then we oppose each other, in our home world.  That doesn't mean we have to be on opposite sides here.

"But if she is... then she is as dangerous as any traitor.  Probably more so."  Bjorn regards Radagast steadily.  "Do you want to come along?  Frankly, I'm probably taking more of a risk than I should.  Do you want to share that... or, alternatively, do you think you can save my as..." he coughs, "save me, should need be?"