THE INVESTIGATORS, AN AD&D PBEM

CHAPTER 1 - Of birds, trust and lightning rods

	You've heard rumors of the splendor and grandeur of the High Keep. You've heard of vaulting ceilings, impenetrable walls, endless corridors, and unimaginable wealth. You never expected to be standing in the Great Hall... Much the less before Dragon the First himself.
	The Great Hall soars 100 meters skyward in an un-braced vaulted ceiling. Low-lying clouds occasionally form at its heights. It is the greatest triumph of Dwarven engineering. Over four thousand beings are crammed in here today... to see you off. The High King looked high and low for Investigators to solve the disappearance of his friends and supporters, and now he has named you: Lowly adventurers and heroes with little means in the ways of politics.
	This soars through your head as you kneel before the steps to the stone dais where the dymondwood throne sits in its permanence. You know little of those kneeling with you, only that they too where chosen and await the commands of the King.
	Suddenly it happens. Two knights of the Storm, clad in deep purple armor with silver streaks, enter the dais. They flank a Herald in the livery of the King himself. They stop at the apex of the dais... the Halberds drop in unison, echoing off the walls of the now silent hall. The hush is nearly palpable. 
	Then, the herald speaks: "I now present unto you his majesty, High King Mordecar Dragonslayer The First." All surge to their feet, bow and do homage to the High King of the Realm. He waves all to rise and quiet descends upon the hall.
	The Herald Speaks... His voice like raging thunder in the silence: "Now opens the court of his High Majesty King Mordecar Dragonslayer The First. Heed his word. Respect his deed. Fear His vengeance."
	The High King Stands and motions to the guards of the hall... each bring forth a person to stand before the High King. They bring forth a human in crimson robes of mundane height but noble carriage, a lithe dark haired human, a male elf of magnificent build, a green eyed man, and a dark-haired half-elf. The High King gestures to their kneeling forms.
	"Before Us Stand My Investigators. Those We appoint to solve the disappearances. They act with Our Leave and Our Consent. Let none hinder them." And then to you all, "Find those who have been taking Our Friends. I promise you the gratitude of a King." He turns to the Crimson Mage, "Kurt, your deeds are known to Us. Go forth and lead Our Investigators. Your skills will be well tempered here."
	The group is summarily gathered and lead from the hall to an antechamber. Court continues as normal.

                                      * * *

	After your short, and rather confusing for some, audience with the High King, you are lead by guards to an antechamber in the outer curtain of the Keep. The room has one door in and one door leading to the outside. Immediately outside is the postern gate leading out of the Keep, a sort of back door.
	Once inside, you find a table with 6 chairs. On the table is a map of the Northern Kingdoms. Two young servants stand by in either corner of the room. The lighting is good here, even for early in the morning... The room obviously faces east. Through the two windows you can barely see a brilliant red sky against the tall walls of the High Keep.
	"Greetings my fellow investigators.  As you have heard the High King Mordecar decree, I am the team leader.  My name is Kurt." Kurt bows slightly with a smile and motions for the group to be seated.
	"Let me explain why I was chosen to lead and what I expect from everyone.  I was chosen to lead this team as recognition to my past accomplishments.  I was an investigator hired by a local baron to find, rescue and save his beloved daughter. Needless to say, the task was done and completed.
	"What I now ask of all of you is personal information.  What we know of each other, we can use to make things work smoother and cause things to be accomplished with greater ease than not knowing of each other.  So I shall start.  I am a battle mage and seasoned investigator.  I work my arts accordingly and I work them to the best of the groups intentions.  My way of leading is simple.  I want thoughts and suggestions presented and I shall direct as I see fit.  Should you have a strong disagreement to my instructions, state them and we shall work together on a solutions. However, my call is final.
	"In this world of ours, we all know that although items of magical power are many, the wielders and creators of said items are rare.  Hence, my talents and skills shall come in handy as few expect to meet my lot in life.  I expect that your talents and skills are just as needed as mine so now I humbly ask each and everyone of you...What is your profession so that I may better understand each and everyone of you and vice versa?"

	A tall man in the brown robes of an archmage enters the room. He is old and grizzled, his hair long ago to have turned white. His eyes, however, burn with the fires of intelligence and inner vision. He exudes power and influence such that the simple way he dresses does not hide his stature and bearing. He nods to Kurt and gestures for the discussion to continue, waiting patiently.

	Raven is a small, slender man who is nonetheless remarkable in appearance. Long, straight dark hair frames a exotic, masculine face. On careful examination one will note his ears rise to a slight point, revealing his partly elven heritage. His eyes are a soft, pale blue full of intelligence and compassion. He wears simple brown robes and sandals and carries a plain staff with him and there is no other sign of weaponry. He wears a simple cord around his neck from which hangs a wooden carving of a tree.
	"My greetings to Kurt and to the rest of you," Raven says warmly in a soft voice. "My name is Raven Shadowlark. Before any questions are asked of my heritage I will give you the story. I am of mixed lineage, my father an elf, skilled in the use of magic, my mother a human druidess. I have chosen to follow the paths of both my parents. I am a skilled healer and adept with the arts of magic as well. I have had to deal with some... discrimination... from time to time. I trust that all of you here are above such simple racism," he says looking from person to person meeting everyone's eyes.
	Turning back to Kurt, Raven continues, "I place my skills at your disposal, sir. First, however, I must make one point clear. I am not willing to see anyone killed if it is at all possible to avoid. I am a healer first and foremost. I will make use of my magic and skills to hinder or incapacitate any who pose a threat to our investigation, but I will not have a hand in the murder of any living being unless there are no other options available."
	The lithe human (though now that you look at him, he's not that lithe: he's got muscle under all that dark leather.) looks up from the crowbar he's been polishing, "Uh ? Oh... You guys are a wordy lot." His voice has a definite Dongarten accent, and his manners are characteristically brusk. "Jurgen Closterwitch, you may have heard of me, I'm the one who climbed Cloud's Edge last year. No ?" he twirls the crowbar in his large hands, seemingly without conscious thought. "I'm here because a friend asked me to. That's what I bring to this gathering: friends. Some in high places, others not so high... and the best one is me."
	Jurgen shrugs cloak covered shoulders and waves all that petty stuff out of his way. He turns to Kurt, "Look, I was given to understand that we were to succeed where official channels failed." His square jaw is tight with annoyance, "What's presenting us to the whole court going to accomplish besides painting a picture for the assassins ?"
	Whorlin (the archmage) decides that he should comment on this one. He rolls his eyes at the politically inept, but that was what the king wanted, wasn't it? "The High King announced you to select members of the court. That was by NO means the full court. ("Just four or five thousand of his closest friends, eh ? Won't it be a joy to find out exactly who leaked." grumbles Jurgen, sotto voce.) He did this for two reasons: One, that those who support him know that something is being done. Two, that those who are doing this become a bit more afraid and, if they do send assassins, once you have defeated them you may question them. If you need to question their corpses... *he crackles his fingers* ... this can be arranged."
	Jurgen shrugs again, settling the rope wrapped around his torso to a more comfortable place on his shoulder. "So we're to be the King's lightning rods... Seems to me people who make High Lords go poof would have little trouble poofing us as well, but what do I know ? I'm just an idiot." His deep brown eyes challenge the archmage to agree with him. "Just be sure to bury me next to my bright red horse and lay me out in those gaily embroidered outfits you provided. The ones with all the concentric circles, you know ?" He shakes his head sadly but settles back in his chair, apparently ready to let the matter lie.
	Very low, "I'm going to haunt the heck out of you, Nikky."

	In the ensuing silence, the quiet elf who as of yet has not said a word, rises with a look of sorrow and hope on his face. "I will not trouble you with a long story, as my life has turned out to be. In short, I am an elf that has witnessed the needless slaughter of friends and family while helpless to defend them, and I have dedicated my life to helping those in need, hoping in some small way to repay what I feel I owe my village. I also strive to wipe out the race of creatures that slaughtered them, and I bid you, never step between me and them, or attempt to stop me from killing them where they stand, for there is no race more vile and accursed as that of the goblins." He sits down, and you can see that he is barely keeping his rage in check. He remains quiet, and does not ask any questions, but intently listens to the answers of the questions of others.
	Jurgen scratches his temple thoughtfully (the crowbar has disappeared somewhere), "Don't know about that. Us humans are pretty vile too, you know. Might fight for our crown." He smiles. "Didn't catch your name, friend."
	The elf rises slightly with a slight nod, "Of course, my name is Jytamil, and yes I would agree with you, human can be vile, the gathering here is ample proof that the entire human race is not vile. The entire race of the goblins, however, make murder, mass murder, thievery, torture, and other forms of evil a past time hobby. They consider it fun, every single one of them. I have joined with you for the simple fact that there are creatures who seek the dark path, and I have sworn to spend my life fight the evil that plagues the land." Jytamil returns to a seated position and continues listening...
	"Commendable, I suppose... Doesn't seem to have raised your spirits any though." Jurgen chuckles, "Thought that was the basic deal: staunch evil, feel good about self and maybe a few adoring women on the side... or is that just for paladins ? Anyway, you look well fed so it must work for you. To each his trade, as they say." He looks at the last man who hasn't presented himself yet, waiting. But Kurt addresses Jytamil before the young man can speak.
	The mage says, "In your own personal vengeance against the goblin race is your own business.  All I ask is that should the team be in a situation of great danger concerning the goblin kin, you restrain yourself until a better time.  I will not say I understand your anger as I did not experience what you have. But if you cannot tell us here, that you can control such anger, I would suggest you not join this team.  We cannot afford to let personal vengeance bring greater danger to the team than what is necessary."
	Jytamil looks at each and every person, "Know this, I have my private feelings about the goblins, but the safety of the party comes first and foremost to me, as causing the party danger or harm is NOT aiding people in trouble. When I said that no one should step in my way, I was referring to a battle or fight already underway, or inevitable, where the party will not be harmed from me attacking them, when the advantage of surprise or the need for stealth is irrelevant."
	Jurgen claps softly and nods, "Well said."
	Kurt nods to Jytamil, "As with Jurgen, well said.  Do not be offended by my question in regards to that Jytamil.  I had to be sure the team's safety won't be jeopardized by your personal goals." He too looks at the last man.

	Finally free to speak, a young man with light brown hair and dazzling green eyes stands in a flurry of motions and bows before you, removing his feathered hat, he smiles at you with a broad warm smile.    
	The figure is elegantly clad, with finely tailored black pants, belted with a dark blue sash, a thin white shirt that seems to float off of him covers his upper body.  A thick dark blue cloak hangs from his neck with a thin silver clasps.  A thin longsword hangs at his side, its hilt pure white with a blue leather grip.  On his right hand a simple silver ring adorns his thumb. 
	"My life is, I have to admit a little boring, and consists of very few things that any of you would find overly interesting." Smiling towards everyone in the room Biren continues. "My name is Biren D'Orcit, of where I hail from is still a mystery to all but me, but as to where my heart lies it is in any city that can keep me interested for long.  I am not one for digging around in the forest or finding dirt to roll in, however that dirt seems to find me..." 
	Biren sighs "My expertise, hmmm some say woman" pauses and winks at everyone "others say the truth and an understanding of people, either way what is mine is yours at least until the investigation is over.  As to my opinion I fear you will receive that more often than you will like." Smiling again Biren sits down crossing his legs and leaning back on his chair slightly to be comfortable.
	"So, stranger from nowhere, why are you here in such company ?" Jurgen points to each in turn starting with himself. "Favor for sympathizer, King's favorite, fight evil (and kill any and all goblins), um... don't really know, save the catoblepas ? and yourself ?"
	"I honestly have no idea why I am here, I got pulled off the street and was told I had an audience with the king... little did I know or care what happens in politics as one king is much like the next king." Looking at the others, "No offense to our good king however, but in my life I don't ever expect to meet a king again and so they have little influence on me." Biren shrugs and begins to play with his thumb ring.
	"By my grandmother's ear collection !" Jurgen is not happy. "I do NOT believe this, why not just throw darts out a window and pick whoever is struck !?" He faces Kurt squarely, "Is this considered a sane way to go about solving our problem ?"
	"Trust me when I say the King's agents must know something about Biren here.  I am sure that Biren does have some skills that we may need in our investigation.  Am I not correct Biren?"
	Biren nods and smiles, "Aye, my lord I have a few tricks up my sleeve that may help us when dealing with a few nobles that think they are a bit above anyone that are not of high blood."
	Kurt continues, "I doubt they would just throw darts as you have put it Jurgen.  Each and every one of us has skills and talents that is essential to our completing the mission.  Take me for instance, even if the general population shows a little fear  or apprehension about my skills, the King still called me to head this investigation. Now I hope my answer has satisfied everyone's thoughts about the team selection."
	"Not really. You haven't said anything besides 'Trust the King, trust the King'. Takes a bit more meat to satisfy me." Jurgen lies back in his chair. "But for now I guess I'll have to 'trust the king'... Distasteful as that may be."

	Whorlin has been smiling the entire time. He seems quite amused by Kurt's  take charge manner. After introductions, he steps forward and formally introduces himself, "I am the Mage Whorlin, advisor to the High King. I am here to briefly answer your questions. Please let me know what you need answered." He stands awaiting any questions the group may have.
	Kurt bows in respect to the higher magi, "Master Whorlin, please answer some questions. First, How long has the kings friends and supporters been disappearing? Any answers you can provide, the better." Kurt then folds his arms into his sleeves and waits.
	The Archmage quickly clears his throat and answers with dignity and a slow, strong voice: "For only a week. The Lady Melissa Argent del Lyon-Brette was the first to disappear. After her has been the Lord Jeffory Kirkswald. He disappeared two days ago. Both were of the City-Kingdom of Hanke. We have had no contact from Lord Shamus McKonnely within this day. He is currently missing."
	"Who are the current rivals for the throne or against the king?"
	Whorlin smiles... not a pleasant sight, "The High King's detractors are many. Among them are the noble families of Melisant, Troubadour, Enchantre, Walneck, Marioge, Dexter, and L'Creiise. It is highly probably that one of these families is behind the disappearances."
	Jurgen claps slowly and smiles, "Enterprising people, aren't we ?" Serious once more, "I've heard rumors that this is preparation for some foreign invasion..?" No reply. "Ah, so there IS an invasion planned. Good to know."
	Kurt smiles once more, "I did not hear of any impending invasion... However, let us not dismiss that as a mere rumor.  After all, rumors all start from the truth in the beginning." To Whorlin, "Any current suspects or clues for the team to look over?"
	"Yes, there is. Your experience shows. The bedroom from which Lady Melissa was kidnapped has been held in stasis by my magic. Kurt, your voice will trigger its release. Go to the Lyon-Brette castle in Hanke to begin there."
	"Who are the friends and supporters who have disappeared?  Any of their servants or friends know anything?"
	"We have questioned family and friends. They have neither seen nor heard anything that was connected with the abductions. I suspect some magic is at work here. Be wary, travel time is long between the reaches of the Northern Kingdoms, this may impede your search. If you have need, feel free to call upon any member of the High Kings army or a Knight of the Storm for assistance." Whorlin gestures to a servant who appears in a few seconds with a flask of wine for the Archmage.

	"Often the past holds clues to the mysteries of the present. If it is possible could you tell us what other connections there are between the missing men? How did each of them become supporters of his Majesty?" asks Raven.
	Whorlin pauses for a moment, contemplating an answer. He takes a deep draught of wine and grins at Raven's assumption that both missing persons were men. "Lady Melissa is a woman of, ur, stature. Yes, stature. She and Lord Kirkswald where fast friends, as many in the nobility are. While nothing romantic was going on, they were quite vocal in each of their families in the support of the High King. They would often meet in the streets of Hanke to rally support when the High King's army passed through or make sizable donations to the poor-coffers of the Kingdom. That is all of their past I can think of."
	Raven shows no surprise that one of the individuals was a woman, simply nodding thoughtfully. He considers the answer quietly for a moment and then speaks up once again in his calm voice. "If Lady Melissa and Lord Kirkswald had any other fast friends who were as vocal as they were in support of the High King, perhaps some precaution should be taken that they do not befall whatever fate has befallen our missing duo. They might also have some clues as to who would be most opposed to their point of view."
	"There would be two friends of theirs from The Barony of Asguard (near Fief Caldwell). Sir Grennelous McKonnely and Lord Conrad Griffson McGregor. They favor the High King almost to the point of violence." He spits the last sentence out most distastefully. (The leather clad rogue swallows a guffaw.)

	Biren speaks to the older mage, "Ah yes... My grand sir, you speak of opposition to the king and the disappearance of his supporters and friends but as you know I know very little of politics but honestly what are the chances that these 'friends' are not plotting with the kings enemies, do we actually have any proof that these people were not lying so that the king would ignore them as a threat? "
	"I'm as sure as a magi can get. These are his longest friends and longest supporters. They are not likely to pull such deception. However, if you uncover this problem, please feel free to inform me immediately."
	Biren continues, "As to the scenario where they are not and are most likely lost or killed than we, I suggest, should start first and foremost at the place where they were last seen and then without the help of any clues I would begin to wonder about not only the enemies near the disappearances but also the enemies close to the high keep as maybe they expect the king to do this investigation in more force than just us."

	Kurt listens with patience and smiles at the new team he has been selected to work with.  "Okay, we have a potential lead.  Let us remember these families of supporters and threats against the King.  Knowing them will be an advantage to us.  However, let us focus on one thing for now...Lyon-Brette Castle in Hanke is our first destination.  The first victim the Lady Melissa's room may be the only place to find hard evidence in this case. Everything else is word of mouth for now."
 	Kurt turns to stare once more at Whorlin  "One more question Master Whorlin. Has the King received any ransom notes or demands?  Anything that might hint as to why his supporters and friends are being abducted?  Aside from a potential enemy fighting for the throne, we have no hard reason for any of these incidents."
	"No. No threats of any kind. That is what is so odd about this situation and  why such strange measures accompany it. Threats can be dealt with. Untraceable action is much more difficult to reconcile. If you are headed for Hanke, then off with you. The less time you spend with an old man like me the better. You young ones need action."
	Everyone having thoroughly questioned the Archmage and been speaking for some time, he takes his leave of the group. "Good luck intrepid investigators. May you be fortunate in your search. If you have need of us, send a message and we'll see if we can get you what you need." The archmage exits in a swirl of robes.

	As Whorlin leaves, a black, feathered head pokes its way around the edge of the window. A large (2' tall) raven hops onto the window ledge. It looks over to Kurt... and flies over to land on his shoulder. It speaks: "Wrrraaa! blowhard gone yes? Good! Good! *cackle* Fly we do now? To Hanke city?" He surveys the room by swiveling his head from Kurt's shoulder. "Hi. I is The Raven. I know you now I do." The Raven bows his head respectfully.
	The half-elven man named Raven laughs in delight and claps his hands together. He seems positively delighted at his newest companion-to-be. Grinning he speaks to the raven "Well met. Perhaps we'll get a chance to talk while we travel."
	Jurgen sneers, "Trust is all well and good, but unless you know this bird personally, he's going to end up in a pie if he doesn't present his credentials right quick." Though his voice is threatening, there are no weapon in his hands and, now that you look, neither are there any on his belt (just purse and pouch). Still, he seems ready to do... something.
	Kurt looks at Jurgen,  "Be at ease friend Jurgen. Let me introduce an old companion of mine and a great friend.  This is Raven." Kurt smiles up at his long time companion. "I can personally attest to Raven's friendship.  Raven was with my previous team and he is of great help. Raven has saved my life and that of my old team's on more than one occasion. Though you know little of Raven, truth be told, we all know little of each other aside from what has been said.  Trust is a key now."
	"Wraaakkk! Thinkin' not pie. No pie! Make me pie, Roldolph make you soup! Awwwk! Jurgeen soupies!" 
	"Soup ?" The man from Dongarten smiles evily, "You don't know what you're missing, bird. Raven pie is quite tasty. You leave the bones in, you see. They turn soft and chewy with the heat," He rubs fingers to thumb, moving his lips as if he could taste it as he leans eagerly towards the fowl. "The juices literally soak the entire thing with flavor. Yes, quite a treat..." 
	Jurgen turns from the bird and faces its master, demeanor somewhat more sober, "Trust is not my problem, it's surprises that don't sit too well with me... I'll _trust_ you'll warn us next time..." He smiles once more as he jerks his thumb at the other Raven. "Heck, this one would probably serve tea to a horde of rampaging wolves if they looked even somewhat friendly. No shortage of trust there."	
	Kurt looks to the half elf named Raven, "It seems we have two that share names so will it be okay with you if we shortened your name to perhaps...Rave?  Or Rav? It would make things less confusing when we speak."
	"Me no change. Me Raven. Him Parts elfin, parts mankin. No parts birdie!" The Raven puffs out his chest with self-importance.
	"Let's just call the bird 'the bird'." interjects Jurgen. "Raven's worn the name longer (I assume) and won't end up in a pie in any event, so he takes priority."
	The Raven: "Suit self. You no matter. I wear name. I not end up pie." The raven gives Jurgen a full-tongue-sticking-out-of-beak razzberry. To Kurt: "Raaak! Him I no help."
	Raven-the-half-elf smiles at this display and nods his head to the bird and speaks with amusement, "I think it will clear things up just to call me by my surname: Shadowlark. I confess I never quite expected this difficulty, but the name truly does belong to the bird here. On the day of my birth a single raven perched in the windowsill of my parent's cottage to watch. They took it as a sign and gave me the name Raven. Shadowlark is my father's Family Name."
	"Yes, yes! Workin' gud. Thee Shadewlurk, Me Raven." The bird looks as happy as the day he hatched.
	Biren laughs at the escapades of his new companion, "For this I agree the bird is much more deserving of the name then a man that was named most likely by one of his kin." Biren smiles, "Shadowlark it is then."
	Jurgen sighs dramatically, "Sorry, for an instant there I forgot that animals are more important than half-elves. My mistake. Won't happen again." He waves a dismissive hand through the air.

	Kurt then stands and addresses the group as a whole, Staring at each member as he speaks,  "Okay people, now that we have introduced each other and our personal objectives, here is what I ask of us all as a team.  That we all work together to strengthen our weaknesses and that nothing found in this investigation remains hidden or a secret from other members in the team.  The only reason why my previous team succeeded was because we worked good together.  I have faith that we shall do the same.
	"Our first destination is the city called Hanke.  I shall see if I can get some horses as it will make traveling much quicker.  I am also ready for immediate travel.  I would think that all of us are equally prepared?  It would be best to travel now than later.  We can rest on the road if we need too.  Every second away from the investigation is one more step to the abductors getting away. If no one has any more opinions and or suggestions, let us be off."
	Raven forcibly turns his attention back to the matter at hand and his joyful mood slips into a more solemn one. "I have all that I need with me, I travel lightly. We can set out immediately if no one has need of any equipment. If any of us do have need of more supplies, I suggest we set out early tomorrow morning after one last good night's rest.
	"I do think it would help at some point to speak with Sir Grennelous McKonnely and Lord Conrad Griffson McGregor, the two good friends of the missing. It's very possible that they are here even while we speak if they are such staunch supporters of his Majesty. Whorlin implied that they were nearly fanatical in support of the High King and I believe they might be quite knowledgeable on those most opposed to him. As the closest friends of the missing two, they are also quite possibly in danger of being the next to turn up missing. They might have some invaluable knowledge.
	"As far as means of travel, I can summon a steed for myself with my magic when we are ready to depart. While we're traveling I can also provide some food for us from the local vegetation. By myself I could live off the land indefinitely. With all of us, I suggest we have some additional food to supplement what I can forage."
	Jurgen looks up, this time he's polishing an awkward looking dagger (broad and very flat). "Already finished ?" He turns to Jytamil and comments, "Good thing you're here or we'd drown in all this silence. Such short spoken and to the point companions they've saddled us with..." He shakes his head in mock sadness before addressing the others, "I need to commandeer a horse from the King's stables but other than that, I'm ready." He stands, the dagger nowhere to be seen. "Anybody else need something ?"
	Biren speaks, "As to the need of equipment, there is a few things I could use before we left, some basic road gear, a sleeping roll, a flint and steel, blankets and whatever else you guys suggest, as I mentioned I am quite a city folk.  Also I need to look for a few extra weapons, its easier to move around a city with as little as possible. I will also have to look for a mount." Looking to the rest of the group "Do you suppose maybe the king would mind if we borrowed a few of his mounts from his stables?" Biren asks with an innocent voice.
	A servant girl pipes up, quietly and timidly: "Good lords, His High Majesty has put aside horses for your use. Simply take them as you leave from the groomsmen." She then exits and in a few minutes returns with a small tent, a sleeping roll, flint and steel, a blanket, and one week of rations all in a waterproof backpack. She hands it over.
	Looking at the girl as if he saw her for the first time, Jurgen grumbles, "They're really pushing this lightning rod business to extremes..."

	Shadowlark notices that everyone is just about ready to leave and speaks up quickly, "If it's alright, I'd just like to be sure that Sir Grennelous McKonnely and Lord Conrad Griffson McGregor are not here. I still believe they might have important information on the missing two, as well as being high candidates for becoming victims in this strange situation."
	"I get the feeling Whorlin wouldn't be too bothered by it.", smiles Jurgen. Then he laughs unexpectedly, "That was a good one though: not liking people because they're _too much_ on your side ! Hehehe He seemed so down-to-earth otherwise... for an Archmage."
	As no one seems to object, Shadowlark looks around for a servant and inquires whether either of the two were present for the little courtly appointment of our group to this investigation.
	The servant answers: "They are not here Milord. Their land holdings are near Fief Caldwell, however."
	That settled, the group disburses and agrees to meet in 2 hours at the kings stables. A page at the door informs them that, "If you wish to acquisition or purchase anything at this time, except horses, the King will allow you up to 100gp of equipment for free from the Keep. Above that you will need to buy yourself."
	"A 100 gold eh ? Seems a shame to waste it..." Jurgen turns to his companions as they file out of the meeting room and asks, "Anyone want to buy my share for half ?" No one seems interested, so Jurgen shrugs and starts wandering, searching for a way to spend that money: waste being so contrary to his nature...


CHAPTER 2 - Evening at the Penguin

	The group forms up at the High King's stables. The building is built from polished white marble to reflect the heat of the sun. The 400 horses here live in relative comfort. As you arrive, a groomsman leads out a group of 5 horses for you. They are of fine quality and well disposed in spirit. "These be'in yers by order o' the King. Take of them what ya willin' and me'll take back da rest."
	"Um, horses aren't my strong suit..." Jurgen wanders through the throng of equine flesh, trying to see if any strike his fancy. "Black, too black. Make me look like death... White ? I ain't no paladin..." He stops next to a smaller beige mare, her back covered with darkish spots. "Not bad." She doesn't bite him when he goes to pet her so he turns to the groom, "I'll take this one. He got a name ?"
	The goom says HER (correcting Jurgen) name is Lynn and she was the princess's horse until the princess moved on to higher spirited mounts.
	At that, Jurgen raises an eyebrow, "Sure know how to pick them, don't I ?" Smiling he shrugs it off. "I think a renaming is in order: from now on you shall be known as 'Peasant Uprising'." He smiles as the horse snorts, "Glad you like it."
	Kurt is looking for a tall proud stallion with a reddish brown coat. Upon seeing that horse, Kurt walks up to it and smiles as he pats it down, "Ah my brave friend, it seems that you and I have another mission to undertake." Kurt then mounts up with practice ease.
	As the others select their horses, Shadowlark finds a quiet location nearby. He settles into a quiet trance and then begins to chant. The strange, musical syllables carry well through the quiet air. For nearly ten minutes the quiet chant continues and then the air ripples faintly and a gray horse appears, already saddled. The chanting comes to an end.
	Shadowlark approaches the horse with a smile and spends a few minutes speaking soothingly to it and then mounts up, returning to where the others are finishing preparing. The other horses in the group seem to steer clear of the mystically summoned mount.
	Biren ends up choosing a large black stallion fully eighteen and half hands high. The horse's name is Archibald and he is war trained. He moves closer to his mount talking softly. Touching the soft skin of the animal, he moves to ready himself to a long and tiresome journey.

	The intrepid adventurers, now arrayed in traveling cloak and more common clothing, mount up and ride forth from the High City. From the Lofty battlements of dwarven cut Stone, the Knights of the Storm guarding the main drawbridge salute you with gauntlets of steel upon purple breastplates. You emerge into the quiet afternoon.
	Jurgen matches step with the quiet Jytamil and starts a conversation on the vilenest of various races as compared to humans (his personal champions).
	After leaving the high keep, Biren is anxiously looking around the surrounding areas.  But grows calmer and more accepting as the day goes on.  Enjoying the scenery, he smiles.
	A few miles through the foothills of the valley in which nestles the High Keep, you see the first wonder of the Great Dwarven Road. The road itself is 8 meters wide for its entire thousand mile length throughout the Northern Kingdoms. It is paved of smooth, porous stone fitted so tightly that hundreds of years of heavy travel have not even emerged a pothole. In floods, the stone soaks the water beneath it where it runs through an aqueduct which then feeds to the water tables of many a small village. The road is walled, 3 meters on each side while it is in the open. No fire or flood has ever topped its walls. Hundreds of travelers work the road. On your fast horses, you will soon be traveling alone. Every few miles, a waystation is built to house travelers. The second of these, the Pickled Penguin, is where you shall stay the night.
	As you reach the mountains, the road goes not around or over the mighty peaks... it goes through. The Dwarves cut a tunnel, arrow straight, through the peaks: 8 meters on a side. Enchanted balls of light see you safely across.

	During the ride, Shadowlark remains quiet for the most part, just taking in the scenery and the Road itself. When he does speak he takes the others with his gaze. There is a sparkle in his eye and passion in his voice. "What incredible accomplishments. Hundreds of miles. I am truly in awe. What we, as living beings, can accomplish in our lifetimes is monumental, whatever our race."
	"Took more than one lifetime, the way I hear of it... More than one life too." Jurgen looks around, trying to see the tunnel as something more than a big hole. "Prefer mountains myself, THOSE are impressive."
	Kurt looks at the tunnel and begins speaking once more. "The last time I was in this area, my group and I ran into this rather eccentric merchant.  Dal Salib or something like that." Looking at the group, "If you ever run into him, I strongly suggest you talk to him and see if you can work some decent deals.  From my experience, his wares are of very good quality."
	 Jurgen recognizes the name,  but can't quite put a finger on why he remembers it. "'DalSalib' ? Not a local I take it... We Closterwitch are into selling stuff as well, you know. If you ever come to Dongarten, drop on by, you'll see what a deal truly is." The dark-haired man smiles crookedly, "And we just may drop by on this very trip, if King Alexander (or one of his relatives) been upholding the family name." He seems quite proud of that possibility.
	That seems to close off discussion for a while. They ride in companionable silence, occasionally sharing a word or two on the passing countryside.

                                        * * *

	At near dark, the group reaches the Pickled Penguin. The road widens to 40 acres here so it is possible to stay outside among the stars for free or, for a silver piece, rent a bed inside. The building itself is nearly a castle. Two tall, round turrets spiral towards the sky and a drawbridge spans a small stream that has been allowed in front of the building.  The front door is a large portcullis with two swinging door cut into it. Larger oaken doors stand open. Through the wrought iron bars can be seen all manner of human and demi-human kind. There is food, games, and drink available within and without.
	Kurt looks at the Pickled Penguin, "I would prefer to stay inside the inn.  A silver piece is not much considering the potential intake of information we may gain with the inn's patrons.  Also, I need some time to change into my more battle ready gear." Kurt then dismounts, ties his horse and looks to the rest.  "And the rest of you? Will you be staying in, or camping out?  I would prefer to stick together."
	Jurgen pulls his mare to a stop. Patting her shoulder, he looks at the darkening sky. Although the weather seems nice, he decides that a night at the inn would be preferable to the stars and if the stars are out, the roof is open. Maybe some investigating will lend itself to the night...
	Biren laughs, looking at the group, "The inn is perfect for me, camping is a lot less appealing, so a silver is not much to pay." bowing to Kurt he moves to bed down his horse in the stables before moving into the inn.  "Shall we start investigating or shall we lay around shallywaggin and doing nothing?"
	Jurgen smiles broadly, "Three guesses which one _I_ plan on doing... Though I prefer to call it 'getting a feel for the locals' rather than nothing. Sounds more impressive."
	Shadowlark slows and then dismounts from the gray horse he has ridden. He spends a few minutes speaking soothingly to the horse and then steps back. He utters one mystic syllable and the horse is gone, once more.
	Turning back to the others he smiles warmly and speaks with a hint of laughter, "Let's just remember we're on important business while we're here. I suggest no one have too much to drink or get side tracked with other diversions." That said, Shadowlark steps into the establishment and looks around.
	Foremost, there is the invigorating smell of good ale and good food. The Penguin is rather airy for a tavern; its 20 foot ceiling and well-placed drafts keep most of the smoke out of breathing range. A long bar spans the width of the tavern, behind the bar lies the entrance to the kitchens, and a spiral staircase leads up to the rooms on the second floor that rent for a silver per night. The common room is actually the roof of the tavern where any who wish may stay and enjoy a breathtaking view of the mountains for free. The doors to the two towers are private and hold rooms for the penguins more discriminating customers.
	Inside the main room is quite loud as at least 200 other patrons fight for the attentions of the serving girls and the bartenders. A group of Knights have taken over one corner of the bar and secured the services of the most comely of the tavern wenches. A small number of dwarves have taken over a chunk of stone floor space (moving  tables aside) to do engineering schematics on the floor. A very dirty and disreputable looking group of humans has the center of the room. By their look they are mule drivers and herders. They eye the group as it enters the inn. Other patrons form less notable groups of two and three.  One group of one, however, commands attention. A lone mage in yellow robes sits at a table in the eastern section of the bar. He studies quietly in a spellbook. The tables around him are vacant... in fact, one is slightly charred. Patrons and help both give him plenty of space. There is gambling going on in a far corner of the room and a throwing contest can be heard in full bore up on the roof. No bard graces the empty stage on the west wall of the main room.
	Whispering low enough for the group Biren directs his comment to Kurt "I suggest that we split up somewhat, I have a feeling that each of these large groups may have something different to offer.  Each being of a different mold and having their ears in different places. A quick bite to eat and a few drinks just to relax the locals may be the best way to start" nodding towards the herders table. "As to who goes where, Kurt you should discuss with the mage first,  as the protection your magic gives you may be a necessity." Biren glances at the charred table before laughing.
	Kurt eyes the bar room layout while listening to Biren speak. "Your plan has merit as I too was thinking the same.  However, let's do things a bit more casual.  Speak to whomever you wish too and act like you would normally do in an atmosphere such as this.  I am sure Jurgen here is more than ready to work his arts in here right Jurgen?" Kurt then looks to Jurgen and smiles.

	But Jurgen is not there, he's heading straight for the group of herders. Raising his voice, he announces to all present: "The road is long but who cares when you're drunk ? And nowhere better to do it than here !" As he sits down to an occupied table, he plunks down his gold on the hard wood surface. "I'll pay his next drink to any who toasts the Penguin, fine purveyor of alcohol that it is. TO THE PENGUIN !"
	The Herders join Jurgen in a toast, eyeing his gold coins with greed. They all proceed to drink heavily and party quite hardy. Jurgen swigs down half his drink, "Ahhhh... Good stuff." He settles comfortably in his chair, as if for as long stay.

	Smiling approvingly at Jurgen's actions, Biren turns to the others. "Well lads shall we?" He waits for comments before moving to an empty table where the group may have a perfect view of most of the going ons of the inn, and the barmaids.
	The rest of the group enters and claims a table for themselves. A barmaid, a tall, thinly built human woman with long, dark hair and an Arabian look about her states the specials for the day and asks for your order: "Greetin's. The house is offerin' a plate o' beef for a silver piece with gravy and a flagon of ale. The dwarfin's dere brought with 'em a keg of  Dwarf Brew. It is currently goin' fer 5 coppers a mug. Tonight ye may drink yerself to oblivion fer just one piece o' gold, and a healthy tip." She smiles sweetly to the group with that last line and waits for you to order what you would like.
	Biren smiles back at the dark beauty, waiting to serve him, "Hmmm, anything like hare or game bird that may be brought to eat? and as to oblivion tonight, whatever you can dish out sounds like it will work, hope this will cover my drinks."  Winking at the tall barmaid, Biren presses 5 gold coins into her hand.  Turning his attention back to the party "Any of you lads want some drinks, my treat tonight?"
	Looking back at Biren, "So tis your treat tonight is it?  My thanks then." Kurt turns to the barmaid "If possible, I would like some roasted chicken and some peach wine." Food is brought and the group begins to settle in. 
	Kurt eyes the yellow robed stranger with the spell book. "Excuse me gentlemen.  I am going to speak to the mage over there. Mayhaps a fellow wielder of the Arts may be willing to part with some information useful in this case."  Kurt then chuckles, "Ah you see how my lot is treated?  We are like a bad disease that people stay away."
	Kurt then gets up to meet the robed stranger.  As he is about to head to the strangers table, Kurt turns around. "I will be back for my food once it arrives. And gentlemen, have fun but don't lose your senses." Kurt then walks away.
	Undecided about where he would best fit in, Shadowlark hangs back and quietly watches as things unfold "This ought to be intersting," he says quietly to himself with amusement. He glances over towards the mage whom Kurt has approached and considers joining them, but decides to let Kurt handle that front.

	At the herder's tables, Jurgen chuckles. "I bet you notherners don't know this one: seems the mayor in Simon's Bath <small town near Dongarten> is convinced the High King is mounting an assault on his town ! But not any assault, invisible soldiers mind you." He chuckles some more. "His nefew's seen them, you see. He was escorting dignitaries or some such and they just vanished ! Or so he says, probably passed out in his saddle," Jurgen leans in conspiratorialy, "Notorious drunkard he is. Anyway, the upshot is, every guard in town is required to carry around a 3m stick on his patrols, waving it around in front of him so as to flush out any invading army of the High King's !" The merry rogue slaps his leather encased tight, laughing at the image. "Can't beat that one." he finishes, wiping his eyes but still smiling wide.
	The herders react well to Jurgen's free wit and freer money. They drink it up and tell him tall tales of their travels. One in particular catches Jurgen's interest: "We were travelin' aboot the city o' Hanke and we were hearin' that fat ol' Laidy Melissa were missin'! That broad is big for three o' us! She wa lying in her bed fer a cow, and was gone in da mornin'! It woulda taken an Oogre to lift her and be carryin' her off" The herders laugh uproariously.
	So does Jurgen. Then he turns serious... if it weren't for that pesky grin.  "I don't know, I say it could be done : maybe a set of pulleys at the window and a small army of crowbars to get her through it ?" He and The herders continue to come up with creative ways to get a woman (getting fatter and fatter with every re-telling) out of entries too small for her.

	Kurt and the Yellow Wizard converse for quite some time until Kurt calls for drinks to be brought to the table. The two wizards drink for a while and then resort back to conversation

	Biren and Shadowlark watch the action from the party's new table in the corner. The Raven Joins the two and even drinks out of one of the unclaimed mugs of ale.
	Shadowlark quietly finishes off his meal and his ale while puzzling over the situation. After he's finished he stands and heads over to the actual bar. He sinks down into a seat and waits for the bartender to approach. 
	"What ye drinkin? Needin' somethin' better than ale?"
	"An ale," he says simply. "Also, my companions and I are headed up north. Any bad news we should know about before we get mixed up in it?"
	The bartender serves shadowlark. The Raven lands on the bar to listen, the
bartender serves him a small shot glass of ale. "There 'ave been many a robbin' along the road this moon. That be why the Knights werein here. They be returnin' to the Keep, so be wary as ye go accross the roads, it may be rough."
	Nodding thoughtfully at the news, Shadowlark sips his ale and pays for it along with another silver coin as a tip. "Thanks, we'll have to keep our eyes out and pray for the best. Not much more we can do."
	Shadowlark finishes his drink quietly and decides to call it a night, heading off to get some sleep.

	The Knights also leave the party early, leaving their barmaid quite well off and full of the stories the knights have bandied about all night long.
	Biren heads over to their former table. Smiling at the barmaid as he approaches, Biren bows before her. "Such a peach you are, it is a pleasure to meet you my lady, my name is Biren D'Orcit." Taking her hand in his hands he kisses her gently, "My lady, I would be honored if you would join me for a drink? as it is, it seems that all of your business has left for the evening?" Biren waits for her response never taking his dancing eyes off hers.
	She flirtatiously leads him back to his table and sits demurely across from 
him occasionally flirting for a time... she will eat a good dinner and drink a bit. "Ye brooght me to be speakin', of what do ye wish to speak?"

	Kurt finishes up his conversation with the Enchanter: Kurt nods his head in silence as he ponders on the situation... "My thanks Enchanter for your time.  I am now heading to speak with the bar maid that serviced the StormKnights.  Oh, before I go, I must ask...Are you the cause of this burnt chair?"
	The Enchanter smiles widely, "Of course I am. The lout tried to steal my gold right from off of the table, I cast an illusion that ran him out of the bar. I left it on the chair to forewarn others. It will fade soon." He smiles, finishes his drink, and goes back to studying...
	Kurt moves to join Biren and the Barmaid at their table, "Ah, I see you are already taken dear lady." Kurt smiles to the barmaid. "Since things are all cozy, here, I shall excuse myself for the night."  Kurt then nods to Biren..."Nicely done."  Once done, Kurt heads to another barmaid and requests to be escorted to his room.
	Kurt ends up with a large, buxom barmaid with an attitude close to that of an overly friendly tiger. She brushes against him nearly hard enough to knock the slight mage over and purrs, "What escort ye lookin' fer? I can be showin' you to da room, or I'll... show ya the room... all around it." She gives Kurt an appraising glance and waits for an answer.
	The herders, begin laughing and placing nonsense bets on how long the magi will last... no-one puts any money down though... 
	"A man should have the courage of his convinctions." laughs Jurgen. "One shiny gold piece says SHE will be the one who passes out first !" He directs a toothy smile kurt's way.
	Kurt eyes the over friendly barmaid and takes a step back.  "Ah, you misunderstand my intent.  I merely wish to be shown where my room is, nothing more."  Kurt smiles weakly and looks to Jurgen and shrugs.  "I have things to take care of at the moment and need my privacy.  Now, where is my room?  Just tell me the way and I will escort myself there." Kurt then thinks a bit and smiles once more to Jurgen... "Hold one...A bet you say?  How is this for a bet."  Kurt eyes Jurgens companions. "If she was to pass out first by my charm and grace, then you not only pay my companion his winnings for this bet, but, you also tell me to whom I can speak too about the rumors of this place. I want to collect stories if you will?"
	"Better not take him up on it, friends." says Jurgen sporting his I-know-better-than-you-poor-saps voice and a very wide grin. "He may not look like it, but I've seen ladies swoon just _remembering_ what he's done to them !" He twirls the gold peice on the end of his finger, making it glitter.
	The bartender himself seems interrested now, "If you can get Sarah to faint, I will not only honor your bet, but connect you with whomever you are seeking. If you lose, however, I would like the Lord Magician to help with the bar dishes for the evening. A bet?"
	Kurt laughs out loud, thoroughly enjoying himself. He then turns back to Jurgen..."Ah yes, my charm at making ladies feint." Placing a hand on his head in a mock pose, "Is it a curse or is it a gift of superior good looks?"  Kurt then spins and faces Sarah.  "So its a bet then!  And here's another proviso... Should I lose, I will buy the house a round of drinks just for giving me such good spirits tonight!"
	Kurt then stares at Sarah. With a flourished bow, he places a hand on his heart under his robe and eyes the barmaid.  With another charming smile, Kurt leans close to her ear and whispers some words and blows a gentle kiss towards the barmaid.  Kurt will then pull back and say..."Well milady?  What say you to my private proposal?" The bar is dead silent, all eyes upon the impending events... the girl's eyes widen with shock... and she faints dead away.
	Finally, the bartender breaks the stunned silence. "Some man you be magus. I've naer seen her even batt an eyelash. What you wantin' to know and I'll be havin' it for ye on the marrow."
	Kurt smiles as his plan worked. He quickly moves to help Sarah off the floor and onto a comfortable sitting position on the nearest chair. Once done with that, Kurt moves over to the barkeeper..."What I seek is simple.  All I would like to know is for all or any stories about the missing people of the High Kings court.  I have heard some things, but I wish to hear more.  Why you wonder?  Simply for reasons of my own."  Kurt then hands the barkeeper 5 gold pieces.  "This would be for your troubles and for Sarah.  I believe I may have scared her more than charm her.  Please give her at least 2 gold." Kurt then heads to his room for the evening.

	Jurgen laughs and rubs his hands, "Fortune is with me tonight !" He laughs again before returning to his carousing. The bar returns to normal. Some money exchanges hands, many patrons go to their rooms for the night. Jurgen himself finaly retires some time later. Thus the group clears its eventful evening at the Pickled Penguin. 


CHAPTER 3 - Road to Hanke

	In the morning, the sun rises blood red and foreboding. Dark clouds hinge the horizon and the winds blow fiercely. Kurt is given a piece of parchment with the barkeep's observations on the High King's situation. He reads it over breakfast. 
	Jurgen plays with his food, not seeming overly hungry. "So, was your evening all you wanted it to be ? I myself discovered the missing lady is the size of Cloud's Edge mountain and twice as heavy. Quite a disapointement actually: no getting payed in flesh for this one friends." he smiles mockingly. "On the practical side, she's not the type to be wrapped in a carpet or taken out with the laundry. I did suggest a system of pulleys and crowbars, but the fellows didn't seem to think it likely." he chuckles. The sound of eating is his only answer. "That bad, eh... Well, didn't the yellow man have anything to say ?" He leans across the table and plucks the note from Kurt's fingers, turning it around to face him. "May I ?" he inquires, already reading it. 
	The note says :

	High King's Strongest Enemy: Textile Lord Gregory Melesant
	Him allied to the Ebon Hand and the Grey Assassin's Guild.

	-Enemies (noble families): Melesant, Troubador, Enchantre, Walneck, Marioge, 
                Dexter, L'Creiise
	-Allies: Lyon-Brette, Kirkswald, McKonnely, McGregor, Shamus, Rathborn, 
	         Griffon, Argent.
	Melesant's Stronghold be in the outer city of Hanke. It maybein' a good 
	place to look. Be made aware: Rala Melesant is a powerful wizard.
	Be wary o' assassins. The ones employed by Melisant are dark skinned and 
	tatooed with a grey dagger on the left shoulder.

	Kurt's hand drops to the breakfast table... "Ebon Hand..."  Looking at Jurgen as he reads the note..."I am not too familiar with most of the High King's supposed enemies, but I am very familiar with the Ebon Hand.  Tis a wizard of high power and with many soldiers.  We have to be wary of that one and also that assassin guild sounds dangerous. I can tell you a tale about that one and my previous group.  However, at least we have yet another clue on this mission of ours."
	Mentions of assassins has done little to stimulate Jurgen's appetite. He looks at his sausages over the edge of the note as if they were likely to mount a surprise attack any time now... "Heck, even I have heard of old Ebony (if for no other reason then the name). You tangled with him ?" His voice contains a note of awe.
	Kurt's eyes glaze over as his mind drifts back in time.  "I was a younger wizard with little experience in investigating.  Fresh out of my home the Dorken Tower, I was enroute to some ruins when I entered a city.  While in this city, I heard of the local Baron's daughter being kidnapped and help was needed.  My curiousity was spiced and I joined up in their team of investigators.  There was four of us.  A thief with wit and speed, a holy warrior, a brave ranger and a mage of little power.
	"Our investigation led us to a very powerful wizard named The Ebon Mage.  His troops were orcs with high intelligence and surprisingly with some honor.  During our venture, we ran into Sallieb and his eccentric merchants wares.  From him we met the Raven and a elven friend named Randolf.  Or was it we met Raven first then Sallieb?"  Kurt then shrugs his shoulders and continues. "We found the Ebon's Tower with little difficulty as he did little to hide it, we infiltrated and we fought with his minions and with the Ebon Wizard himself.  I hit that mage with  practically every battle spell I had and I barely staggered him.  However, I did manage to deal strong enough blows to allow other members of the party to assist in taking him out as I wore his shield magics down.
	"In the end, we won, fled and saved the Baron's daughter."  Kurt then focuses on the group again... "However, I truly believe the Ebon Wizard was merely toying with us.  With a single spell, he practically killed off members my previous group.  Luckily, I also had a spell or two to deal some surprises myself." Kurt then drinks some of his juice to wet his throat again.
	"Um, any idea why he took off with the girl in the first place ? If he's behind this latest thing..."
	Kurt thinks a bit... "The Ebon Wizard wanted the girl for some type of magical experiment he was attempting before we stopped him.  Something about creating a whole new race I think.  We even managed to save a very beautiful elven female warrior who was also supposed to be used for this experiment." Kurt smiles at the thought of the elven female. Kurt then looks to Jurgen... "Since that time though, I have not heard anything concerning the Ebon Mage until now."
	"Not much use then." Jurgen slides the note over, then decides on a pre-emptive strike on his sausages and decapitates one without mercy. "You're the local guy here, Kurt, what's Melesant looking for in the deal ?"
	Kurt, who was eating his eggs with some red sauce that he put on it, wipes his mouth and looks to Jurgen..."Local guy?"  Kurt chuckles..."If anything, I am the least local of all of you.  However, concerning Melesant, I do not know.  I have not heard of that person until this note here.  Most likely he is looking for what many nobles against the throne is looking for. A chance to be king and bring his family status up a notch."
	"I thought you were in charge because you DID know this sort of stuff (Northern politics, I mean)." 
	Kurt shakes his head..."I am not in charge because of my knowledge on politics.  Like the rest of you, I am not politically inclined.  I was placed in charge due to my reputation in dealing with the Ebon Hand case.  We definetily have to work our way through this one."
	Jurgen nods, "We got to get some pointers soon or we're in trouble." Passing over Biren, he turns to Shadowlark, "I don't suppose green eyes knows much about it, what about you ?"
	"I'm afraid not," the raven-haired half-elf replies simply. "I try to stay as far away from politics as possible. There's ample other things in life to focus on."
	"Can't say as I blame you there: give me a mountain or a night in the city any day. Doesn't do much for us now, though." Back to Kurt, "Let's make asking about the political hills and valleys our first question to our kingly contact... Who is that anyway ? Hanke himself ?"
	Kurt thinks a bit... "Our contact?  I am afraid I do not remember. I was planning on heading to Hanke to inspect the Lady Melissa bed chambers.  That was where the scene of the crime was held in stasis until our arrival.  If we do have a point of contact waiting, then we shall meet him or her when we get there.  Do any of you have the name of this point of contact?"
	"Not me. I just supposed Whorlin branded someone with his seal: makes getting help and reliable info that much easier, both ways... Though if we're to be lighning rods, I guess it would make sense to have us bother as many hives as possible..." Jurgen appears none too happy with that last thought.

	"I don't think we have a contact, we're all on our loneseome," Shadowlark says with a chuckle.
	Biren laughs "Aye, maybe we should make our own contact so that we dont get too lonesome," smiling at Shadowlark "Maybe Hanke will be pleased to meet us or at least some of his staff as they in most of the keeps I have been in seem to know quite about its going ons and whos doing what and it also seems that the females love to talk about it." shrugging Biren turns his attention back to his meal.

	Jurgen shakes his dark thoughts away, "I guess we can just present our storm amulet should there be need for official hand forcing." Satisfied, he tears off a piece of bread and starts chewing in earnest.
	"Let's not advertise our presence any more than we have to," Shadowlark throws in. "We can simply say we've come to speak with Hanke without stating our business. If that's a problem, a well placed spell could persuade whoever needs to be persuaded. Once we actually get in to speak with Hanke himself, we could apologize for whatever liberties we had to take to be able to speak with him directly. I just think that the fewer people that know about our presence there and it's purpose, the better."
	Jurgen looks to Biren and Kurt, a bit surprised that they don't object to mind-control on supposed allies. Then he shrugs and says, "Sure, discretion would be a nice change of pace... Might even work if the entire court and pretty much anybody who has an interrest didn't know what we look like already (and where were going too, most likely)." Shrugs again, "Oh well..."
	Kurt shrugs as well, then takes the note and places it in his bag... "According to this note, if the information is true that is, this Melesant is a wizard of power. That already spells danger. As you all know, my lot in this world are fewer than most professions. So, if any wizard has gained a reputation to be wary of, then chances are, that he is indeed as powerful as rumors foretell.  Not to mention his assassins. We have to be on guard as we approach closer to Hanke.  This Melisant is worth looking into though."
	"Greg's a wizard too ? I thought only this Rala person wore the pointy hat (His wife I would imagine). But yeah, the fact that he's sitting on the same web as those who dissapeared makes him a likely candidate... maybe not for the head, but perhaps the hands."
	"Rala would be the eldest daughter of that clan. She was a few years ahead of me at the Tower." remembers Kurt.
	Just then, a serving girl comes and announces that Jytamil is sick as a dog, unable to leave his bed. When the group assembles at the elf's room, he looks up at them through bleary eyes "Food poisonning... I should not have had those..." His explanation is cut short by a new wave of nausea. He quickly bends down to the bucket and heaves long strings of bile.
	The serving girl corals the group out of the room, "I haven't seen a case so bad in years. It be weeks before he ken ride again..."
	Nodding their heads sadly, the group confers on what to do, but no solution can be found but to leave Jytamil behind. Their mission can't wait. They bid farewell to their companion and assure him that a messenger has been sent to the High King: help should be here soon.

                                        * * *

	The group re-mounts and continues down the dwarven road. Now that the foothills have ended, the wide, flat areas between Hanke and the High Keep spread endlessly before them. Only the stretch of the road shows where they are going. Their speed of travel allows them to outstrip most of the traffic. By noon, the group reaches a nearly deserted resting place in the road. It is an area where the road was widened to 60m to accomodate caravans stopping for the night... here, however, more sinister things are happening.
	A group of ten brigands, looking much like the so-called herders from the Pickled Penguin last night, encircle a wagon. The wagon is a dilapidated gypsy wagon with an old, wizened man in the driver's seat. A lone animal pulls the wagon. The brigands are accosting the old man, demanding money or tribute for him to continue upon his way. The old man seems defiant, but he is vastly out-numbered by the club and odd-weapon armed bandits. They don't seem to have noticed the new arrivals yet.
	Kurt, sitting on top of his horse, stares in alarm at the scene.  Speaking out loud, "That wagon... It is familiar. I am sure that belongs to Sallieb. The eccentric merchant I told you all about. That merchant is protected by powerful people, with whom I am a friend of one." Kurt then quickly dismounts.
	Without waiting for the others, Biren, seeing the atrosities that are being dished out, spurs Archibald forward drawing his longsword and heading straight for the leader of the group. Brandishing his sword he attacks with an intensity that the group has not yet seen from him, scattering the brigands and trampling one in the process.

	Shadowlark shakes his head in frustration and Jurgen grumbles, "Swell, NOW he doesn't want to talk."
	"What?  Biren?  What is he doing?  By the dark arts, I could have taken care of them all in one shot. " Kurt then sighs... "Well, we are new at working together right?  Very well then, let me assist him with dealing with any potential threats." 
	While Kurt is speaking, the leather clad rogue has riden a little to the side so as not to be between the magic men and their targets. Gleaming daggers appear in his hands only to leave them just as quickly, piercing his enemmies flesh in an almost continuous barrage before returning to their sheath with a leathery swish.
	Kurt points his finger at one of the men, while his other hand traces an "M" upside-down in the air. "Source of all power, darkness beyond twilight, shatter my foes with deadly force!"  Kurts robes seems to glow with its own power as he gather the energy to work his magic. Three bolts of magical energy lance out and strike the brigand who is closest to landing a club attack on the old man. The magical bolts nearly blow the man to pieces... he falls in a crumpled, and quite dead, heap on the ground.
	The half-elf quickly reaches into one of his belt pouches. "Obdormio",  Shadowlark shouts out, flinging a dozen rose petals towards the bandits. Four of them seem to blink, yawn, and fall fast asleep on the ground.

	Meanwhile Biren's powerful, charge powered, downward slash opens a massive wound in the bandit leader's leg as he tries to dive away from the charging fighter. The man rises, but is limping badly. He makes his way towards the old man in a fighting retreat and shouts orders in a badly broken dialect. The remaining bandits (4 of them, 3 wounded) group around him. 
	In the chaos one of the bandits manages to get a sharp dagger to the throat of the old man. The leader pipes up: "Ay have ye blue-hair. What'ca doin' now? Stay back or I be killin' 'im!"

	Biren reins in Archibald, glancing quickly at his friends, looking for a sign of hope, he lowers his sword and smiles at the bandits.  "Ahh, my fine friends.  I see that this land of yours is not worthy of your acceptance but an old man, a man who never did you any wrong is worthy of your pain. It is a pity for the man that lives but does not truly experience it." Pointing at the old man, but meaning the broadsword wielding arse, Biren continues "That man has a bounty on him, but only if he is alive. It was assigned by the king himself." Shaking his head "Sliding that knife through him is going to make my job impossible as I am suppose to pay the one who turns him over to me." jingling  his coin purse, and moving his sword to sit across his lap Biren continues "But alas you folk seem to have everything under control and need no assistance from the King's own detachment. Tis a shame though to waste such a reward."

	Kurt, who was about to take a step forward and say something, quickly holds his place as Biren speaks.  Whispering to the members of the team that is closest to him... "Smart plan. By doing this, it catches the bandits off guard and gives them something to think about, their lives. I don't think they would kill the old man if they know they could leave with their lives. Let us wait and see if the bandits do the smart thing." Kurt then folds his arms into his sleeves as he watches the bandits and Biren's transactions.
	Jurgen blinks at Kurt, then mumbles "First he carves them up, then he turns on the honey... Good planning there. We could've taken them down or taken the old guy away if sir Chicken Soup hadn't messed it up... Besides, I think you're forgetting something: what if they just say 'don't follow us or we'll kill him' and wander off with the hostage ? Hu ?" The man from Dongarten wears a very skeptical expression on his face but extends his hand to retreive a returning dagger and refrains from further attacks. "Scratch one old man." he sighs.
	Not commenting on that statement, Kurt whispers to the other party member, "What about you Shadowlark? Any weak minded spells to put the rest to sleep or maybe charm their leader? Anything that you can work unnoticed in casting?  If not, then we have to wait this out."
	Shadowlark pauses as the situation turns even more ugly. He quietly grasps the holy symbol hanging around his neck and speaks just loud enough for his companions to hear him. "I can terrify all of them," the smaller man says simply. "I can guarantee that there will be no fight left in any of them. I should have used this spell at the very beginning. I think after this we all need to have a little talk about how to handle situations."
	"Here here." agrees Jurgen.
	"It looks like Raven is about to chance a save." whispers Kurt. "Jurgen, now is your chance to show your speed and skill with those daggers of yours. Be ready."
	Indeed, the Raven seems to have taken an opportunity. The large bird has circled around and landed on the Old Man's wagon. As the bandits cluster around the old man, dagger to his throat, the Raven is poised right above the hostage-taker's head...
	Jurgen lets his right dagger slide out of its forearm sheath, down to curled fingers, waiting...
	Shadowlark's eyes narrow, ready to let his spell fly...

	With the situation growing tense, an offer hanging in the air, a dagger poised, and a bird on the move, something was going to break. What finally broke, was Jurgen's quick reflexes. With a lightning quick flick, Jurgen's dagger flies towards the dagger arm of the bandit threatening the old man. The dagger's flight is not true, however... it strikes into the wood of the wagon right next to the Herder's arm. At nearly the same time, the Raven descends with a peck that only a 2 foot tall bird could deliver. all in time with Shadowlark's scare spell...
	The Herder with the dagger wets his pants, throws the dagger at the group, and runs. (the dagger cleanly misses everyone) The rest of the group, wether from the words of the magi or the sheer tension of the scene, once again become gutless individuals instead of a dangerous mob, and run for the distance, climbing over the walls of the road.

	"Kill them all !" shouts Jurgen from the top of a charging Peasant Uprising as Biren moves between the fleeing bandits and the old man.
	"Let them go," Shadowlark says quickly, before any more weapons or spells can fly. "There's been enough death and misfortune here already."
	"Leave the bandits be." orders Kurt, "I care not to waste my magics on their weak lot."
	Just as it looks like he's going to jump the wall, Jurgen reins in his mare and calmly faces the rest of the group, "You got to give them reason to continue running, you know." He smirks and walks Uprising back towards the wagon at a leisurly pace. Passing Biren, he says "Your tactics need work, Biren..."
	Laughing at Jurgen, "Tis a shame that your aim is not as sharp as your tongue, though your tongue is truer than your aim."
	"I'm not used to horses." says Jurgen, rather annoyed. "I think you're taking this entirely too lightly: you almost killed the old coot, you know." He gestures to the smoking remains and the blood sploshes. "It's usualy wiser not to start killing people when you want to save one..."
	Looking towards the bird Biren smiles "Aye, my fine feathered friend I thank you for your timely help. The next chance I get I will reward you handsomely."
	Jurgen arumphs, then turns to other matters. 

	Dismounting from his summoned steed, the half-elf leads his horse as he walks towards the older man and the four sleeping bandits. He quickly checks to see if the other downed men are dead. If they aren't he quietly binds their wounds, stanching the flow of blood. 
	Jurgen also dismount and checks the men though his first concern is to remove their weapons (dumping them in the wagon) and then any interresting possessions. "Uncle Nofeet used to say: There is no profit too small, boy, only men too big for their own good."

	With most of the bandits far enough away Biren sheaths his sword and turns his attention to the old man. Looking him up and down and insures that he is not injured. Strangely, the man appears unfazed by this entire commotion. He simply smiles and waits to see what happens.
	Biren smiles "Good afternoon, my lord, the name is Biren D'Orcit, and a few others you know already." nodding to Kurt and the Raven "This is Shadowlark" nodding towards the quiet figure tending wounded "and the other is Jurgen." 
	The man in question looks up from the bandit he's currently frisking and nods a greeting before returning to his task...
	"Ah! It is very good to be meeting of you worthy adventureers. Thank you for saving my most unworthy life! For that, I make you welcome at my shop. Welcome to Sallieb Dallieb's Traveling Emporium… Have I gifts and treasures from across the realms, yes! All for sale to you for my modest prices. I carry no magic here, worry not, but my wares are of the highest quality, have a look, yes? I give you a save-my-life deal!! Those men would have taken everything no for you, many thanks!" The old man doesn't even seem to take note of the internal party banter. He just seems to be happy to try to cut you a deal now that you've saved his life. Ah, the joys of retail sale...
	Kurt laughs a bit.  "Sallieb?  Is that you?  I hardly recognized you since the last time I saw you.  I see that your business is still running strong.  Did you greet Raven?"
	"Of courses! Raven and I speak in lengths!"

	Jurgen only comes up with 5 copper coins and a few crude wooden weapons. "Pitiful, simply pitiful. Have you no pride as bandits ?" He shakes his head sadly before turning his attention to the merchant. Though, now that he look at him, Jurgen remembers why the name sounded so familiar: This guy is on the 'don't ever touch' list for every thief in the Kingdom. He's got a reputation for finding the strangest stuff in the world and re-distributing it for his own profit... No-one has ever figured out where he finds the stuff... Maybe worth following him at some point in the future...
	Finishing up with checking to see if any of the injured men are still living, Shadowlark grabs a bit of dirt from the ground and rubs his hands together to help clean his hands of blood. He smiles slightly at the merchant's words but, his face is dominated with a look of sadness. "I was just glad to help," the half-elf says simply.

	Sallieb walks to the back of the rickety old wagon that sits on the side of the Great Dwarven Road. It's kinda small, possessing at most an interior the size of a modest room. It seems to be made of an old gypsy wagon that has seen many years and many re-paintings. It is currently a garish orange color with an entwined symbol at the front: a stylized letter V from the Common language ends and begins a stylized W from the common language. The old horse attached to the wagon is a dappled mare with the tired attitude of one that knows her lot in life, enjoys it, but could altogether care less. His owner opens the back, revealing the wares within.
	Kurt begins his inspection of wares..."I am glad you still have such interesting wares my friend. I know the routine my friend. I know you do not know much about these items but you were always good at telling us its history. Can you tell me the tale of these two items?" Kurt shows Sallieb a mage's staff with a winged top cap (various magical wordings along its length) and a silver armband with all of the gods and goddesses of magic represented symbolically upon its face. "I have this sword to exchange for the wares should I want them."  Kurt then pulls off his shortsword and shows Sallieb.  "Remember this?  It has served me well but I am willing to trade if the staff and armband are to my liking."
	"hmmm... Staff be from the hands of Roldolph. He make it good! The band, I thinks, is from the mage Aria Silverplume. She live many long ago. Gaudy jewerly, eh? I trade you one for one for sword. take pick, yes?"
	Kurt nods his head in thought as he chooses between the armband and the staff.  "Okay, since I am giving up my melee weapon, I will take the staff."  Kurt then hands the sword to Sallieb and leans his new staff on his shoulder.  "So Roldolph made this staff eh?  Who would have thought I would be holding one of his craftings."  Kurt smiles, then heads out of the shop to a nice comfortable area and begins inspecting the staff, reading the runes (ancient elven apparently) and studying everything and anything on the staff.

	Looking at all this stuff, Jurgen can't help but comment, "Is it just me or is this a bit... unreal ?" Still, waste is _very_ contrary to his nature... "Can I have a look at those feathery boots... and maybe that box of unlabeled potions. Being a risk taker and all..." Jurgen also puts on a burgundy ring with a very plain feel. "Nice. How much for the boots, by the way ? and the box ?"
	"Hmmm... expensive tastes, yes? That is the hide of a chimera upon those boots. I could charge no less than one hundred gold soveriegns for those. As for box, Seee... lets us be callings it two pieces of gold per vial plusses a bit for me, fifty goldings?"
	"You've got to be kidding ! Sure, I like my feet as much as the next guy, but not for a 100 gold !" Jurgen launches into full blown bargaining mode, attempting to drive the price of both items down to something that won't bankrupt him. After some doing (and the addition of a bottle of fine Bourbon from his saddlebags) Jurgen bargains him down to 75 gold for the boots, box of potion and the ring. "You're a crafty one, Sallieb, and quite unscrupulous." smiles the rogue. "Do you take Ice jewels ?" In his palm rests a knuckled sized gem, almost completly transparent. "...Nearly the last of my Giant hoard <sigh> Where does it all go ?"
	"Yes! ofcourseofcourse!!! We takings all types of money here..." Sallieb collects the jewel and the bourbon and hands accross Jurgen's purchases.

	At first, Shadowlark doesn't seem overly interested in taking a look at the wares. When his companions start oohing and ahhing his reticence breaks and he joins them in gawking. There are many items that catch his attention : an ironwood traveler's staff shod with steel at both ends and inlayed with a rune of protection and safe-journey, there's also a ring carved to appear like a circular feather and a long robe, gray in color, with a very comfortable lining.
	Tossing a look to Kurt, Shadowlark taps a wizard's scroll (Still sealed) with a finger, "I'm sure either of us would be interested in this one," he says with a slight smile. "So, Sallieb, just how good is a save-your-life deal? The staff there, in particular caught my attention, though the ring, robe and scroll also caught my attention."
	"Ah! Nice choosings... Of staff you know, ring is good deal today! I charging you only 10 pieces of gold. The robe is made by Heather of Merrykin... good weaver. It is 15 gold. The scroll be dangerous... probablly diary of some maddening wizard. Give me 5, you take, eh?"
	"How can I resist?" Shadowlark says with a chuckle. Counting out thirty coins, he pauses and then counts out another five and hands them over. He shrugs simply at the extra coins and smiles warmly at the man. "Easy come, easy go, and I'm sure you'll need the extra coins after we're done clearing you out."

	Biren is amazingly quiet, a smile creeps across his face everytime the old man speaks. He waits for Jurgen and the others to finish making there bargains and deals.  "Sallieb, " picking up one of the remaining rings "how much exactly are these rings, they seem to be very interresting and unique.  Maybe a lassy I meet will fancy one of them"  Biren holds up each ring in turn looking for Sallieb to add anything about them. 
	Sallieb picks up the ring case and lets biren peruse through it... "Mmm... rings are good for the ladies, ah... we deal. You save my life, I  charge you only ten gold for a ring. Picking what you wanting..."
	"Ahh, these rings are so beautiful which one would you suggest?" looking to Sallieb, "but it must be unique." Looking through the rings Biren waits for Sallieb's suggestion for the rings.

	His box of potions firmly in hand, Jurgen starts to make his way to Peasant Uprising, only to stop halfway there. With an expression of distaste on his squarish face, he says "What do we do with this one ?" and points to the dead bandit, still smoking slightly. 
	Silence. "Got to do everything myself." he grumbles. "Sallieb, my friend, a blanket or something." He gets one handed to him with a smile, the merchant then returns to discussing rings with Biren.
	The potions are stashed and the dead man rolled in fabric. Jurgen crouches at the bodies head, large hands gripping the man's shoulders. "Anybody want to help ?" he asks in a tone that implies somebody had better want to. His deep brown eyes switch between the druid, who doesn't appear to be doing anything, and their esteemed leader, who doesn't appear to be doing anything much.
	Kurt begins to walk over to Jurgen. Slinging his newly found staff across his back with a leather thong, Kurt grabs the opposite end of the body. "What do you plan on doing with this body? Dump him alongside in the woods?  Bury him?"
	"On three. One, two, up !" Both man start lugging the corpse in the direction the bandits retreated. "Haven't got a shovel (not sure he's worth it anyway). <huff> Let's get him out over the wall. <puff> Careful. His pals can find him and do the rest. <breath> Here seems fine." Down he goes. Jurgen slaps his hands together, satisfied, "Or the wolves. First come, first served." 
	Not saying anything as he grunts to move the body, Kurt finally exhales a breath of air he did not even know he held. <huff, puff, pant> Kurt labors a bit.  "Geez, I like the occassional labor but he <points to the dead bandit> was heavy!"
	"Thanks for the help." Jurgen claps Kurt on the shoulder a few times before heading back. "You got one of those Magic Eyes spells ?" He rotates his newly acquired burgundy ring around with his thumb as he walks. "The boots seem to have some sort of power, but the ring went for much too cheap, if you ask me."

	The half-elf winces at the casual manner in which the others treat the now-deceased man. After the body is unceremoniously dumped, Shadowlark walks over, says a quiet prayer, shrugs and returns to his conjured horse.

	Kurt *shaking his head* continues to walk back to the main group.  "All I can do for you is tell you if it holds some magics or not.  I will say this, despite the price, Sallieb's items tend to be gifted, however minor or major...but gifted none the less."
	"Think I'll pass then." Jurgen lowers his voice as they approach the wagon, "You know he's going to do it again if you don't say anything, don't you ?"
	Kurt watches Biren and frowns a bit, "I try to let everyone do what they feel they can in battle or anything else. However, Biren's sudden charge was foolish. I will speak with him on this matter, only if he does that charging off to battle thing again. Let us see if he can learn from his mistakes. If not, then we know a bit more on how he thinks and we can correct him."
	Grunting non-comitaly, Jurgen makes his way back to his mare with Kurt and waits while Biren finishes up.

	At that moment the man in question is saying : "So sallieb I'll take the silver and the mithril gold ring, how much?" Counting out the gold Biren gives them to the old man. "Ah, yes, the other day we heard of this large noble women being roled out of her stables to dissappear,"  muttering "I myself dont believe that version but we have heard rumors of missing nobles.  Have you heard anything of the sorts in your travels ?" (Jurgen nods appreciatively. Biren might not be the best tactician, but at least he keeps his eyes on the prize.)
	"My regrets, my ears are forever closed to the rambles and musings of noble folking. I have nothing heard... maybe ask Roldolph? His ears sharp, yes, yes!"
	While looking throught the ring box one last time, Biren asks "Rodolph you say, who is this man, I have never heard of him ?"
	From his position at the side of the road, Kurt speaks up, "Roldolf is a wizard of power that fortunetly works on the side of good. He and Sallieb are friends and so am I. I am sure you will get a chance to meet him should we ever go to his shop."
	Biren nods and returns to the merchant, "Thanks Sallieb, I'll be sure to mention your fine wares to anyone we meet."
	Loaded with their loot, the group heads off for the rest of their day traveling, bidding farewell to Sallieb. The merchant and his broken-down horse continue on their way. Shadowlark remains quiet through the remainder of the day, apparently lost in contemplation, but the others occasionnaly exchange words on trivial matters.

	Darkness falls and they stop for the night, making camp at one of the road-side campsites that seems to be deserted. After a hearty meal, the group spends some time experimenting with their newfound gear before sleeping for the night. 
	Biren sits calmly trying on the rings that he purchased. Nothing spectacular happens and if he feels any change with the rings on, he doesn't share his feelings.
	Sitting by the fire, box beside him, the leather clad rogue starts by inspecting his feathery boots in minute details ('Extremely well crafted. Good, solid soles and sealed with wax. Nicely carved wings.'), then does the same with the burgundy ring ('Um, no inscriptions or decorations. But it's slightly warm to the touch in the cool of the evening..')
	That done, he plunges a hand into the box, extracts a bottle at random and goes to drink, but pauses at the last moment... "Wouldn't it be funny if its filled with acid ? Haha look at poor Jurgen without a toungue... Safety first." He pours a drop onto his finger, waits a while to see if it melts, then licks it off and notes any reaction on the bottle with his trusty quill. "Should I suddenly explode or convulse, don't hesitate to help."
	Nothing that drastic happens. Several concoction have the familiar taste of healing potions, a couple are oils, one shrink his toungue while another lenghtens his finger and other interesting effects.
	Kurt stares at Jurgen with disbelief as he tastes each potion. "You should have been an alchemist my friend. Such foolhardy bravery with potions unknown dictates you are perfect for such a career." Kurt then watches intently as Jurgen continues his taste testing.
	"It's not like I can pay someone..." Potion number fourteen turns his finger green and tongue purple, "Oh, one of those..." mumbles Jurgen, looking cross-eyed at his tongue. "Never could understand why wizard waste their time making them... Though I did hear the fascinating tale of a white dragon that belched flames, cooking a party loaded for cold. Hehe. Anybody found a use for us non-dragons ?" No reply. "Thought not." Jurgen goes to throw away the useless thing, but stops himself. "Only time they turn out to be useful is when you toss them." The potion of rainbow hues goes with the others.
	After finishing his taste tests, the dark haired human carefully places two healing potions in front of each man present. "Better safe than sorry. Those are mine though: my money, my tongue. You take them, you owe me a favor, friends." Jurgen's smile is friendly, slightly self-mocking.
	Kurt raises his hands and shakes his head. "No thanks. My Art will sustain me when needed." Kurt then turns to the rest of the party. "Anyone else?"
	Both Biren and Shadowlark take the offered potions.
	Jurgen smirks, "Don't thank me or anything." then waves to show that he's joking. "I'll take first watch if nobody minds. I like a solid stretch of sleep, thank you."
	So it is done.	

                                        * * *

	The night is calm, the wind of the day having died down. The fire burns quietly, night creatures make their usual noises, then dawn lights the eastern sky. The adventurers awaken and start going about their morning rituals. Nothing of note happened, yet Kurt awakens to find a note tied to his new staff.
	Jurgen walks past, "I think you're cursed: You will receive a note every morning for the rest of your life... Got to admit it's original." Chuckling merely, Jurgen squats down over a bowl of water and starts shaving with one of his daggers. "Who is it this time ?"
	Kurt reads into the note and starts chuckling a bit. With his eyes fixed on the note, "Tis nothing concerning our mission. Just a note from a friend of mine. A fellow mage." Kurt then folds the note and places it into one of his many pockets. Looking up to the air, Kurt says out loud, "My thanks old friend. My thanks."
	Jurgen watches Kurt out of the corner of his eyes, but is quickly brought back to more immediate matters when he slips and gives himself a nasty shaving cut. "Ouch." He dabs at the blood with a finger, grumbling about sadistic gods. "You want to do some practice later, Kurt ? Dagger isn't too good against staff, so I need to work some kinks out of my routines." He finishes scrapping stubble off his face, splashes it clean then starts drying his dagger.
	Kurt raises his eyebrow at the offer, "Normally I would not mind however, this staff is fairly new to me and I am still learning just what it can do.  *Pointing to the runes* These mean something and I'd rather not risk triggering something while we practice." Kurt then thinks a bit more, "It has been awhile and I do need the practice... Hmmm, tell you what Jurgen, let's practice at a later date."
	"You know where to find me. Hope you don't get into a fight in the next week or so though..." Turning to Shadowlark and Biren, "Any volunteers ?" He tosses the now dry dagger into the air, where it turns around and clinks back into place.
	"Aye Jurgen I'll take up that practice with ya, however only if you take it easy on me." Smiling, Biren proceeds to prepare himself looking forward to working his muscles.
	Jurgen smiles wide, "Not a chance, my friend. We need bacon for breakfast and it's coming from your hide." Chuckling, he starts putting on his leathers. "Wasn't planning to, but since we're going with something pointy..." Both men then walk away from the camp and proceed to outdo each other, Jurgen with twin daggers, Biren with his thin longsword.
	Time passes, there are metalic clangs of cooking and combat, mumblings of prayers and study. The action is hot and heavy on the training ground, where biren's mastery with the long sword easily outweights Jurgen's superior quickness: the rogue is getting solidly pummeled. Breathing hard, he signal for a pause, "Looks like the bacon is coming out of me... What say we call it quits for the day ? Still got some travelling to do after all." 
	They all settle down to a quick breakfast.
	After breakfast, the half-elf takes a short walk, stretching his legs out and enjoying the world around him. All too quickly for his liking he returns and once again conjures a steed to carry him through the day. The others mount up and they are off.
	The group continues on the last leg of this journey. They leave the great dwarven road when it starts angling south and make their own way through the countryside. Supposedly this is the most dangerous part of the trip, but all is calm. They reach the outskirts of Hanke by sundown. 


CHAPTER 4 - City of mystery

	Hanke is built around a fortress. The fortress is a mott and bailey castle surrounded by a river-fed moat. The city itself is unwalled and sprawls out in a rough spiral from the fortress. Noble families and what must be wealthy merchants have built fortresses within the city... probably for protection in the wilder days. Now, these buildings simply mark those of stature. The town hall is a fortress set aside from the others, close to the center of the city. Many inns, bars, brothels, and shops mark this teeming city. 
	"Well, now we get down to how exactly we're going to handle this," Shadowlark says plainly once the city is within sight. "I believe that the fewer people who we tip off about our presence the better. At least that way if assassins or some such are sent, we can narrow down a leak to someone who was there when we were sent on our way." The half-elf smiles slightly and shakes his head. "Not that that would really help much, but there is the chance, however slight, that our coming might really not be known about yet.
	"So, shall we resort to magic and deception or infiltration? We need to talk to the man in charge with as few other people as possible knowing we're here and why we're here. I can think of a dozen options, but sometimes the simplest ideas are the best ones. Perhaps Raven would be willing to carry a message to be delivered personally to whoever we need to see. I'm terrible with names, can't even remember who that is. Another option would of course be to charm or beguile a guard or two. A third option would be one or more of us sneaking in. Easily enough done with a spell or two... If Raven would be willing, I think he's our best choice though."
	Jurgen cocks an eyebrow, wondering where the druid keeps it all bottled up. "Fine. But I don't think the bird can get to see Lord Hanke without some notice: he IS a two feet raven and the guy IS a lord. I figure our best bet would be a courrier. Not gonna get a response before tomorrow though..." He smiles evilly, "I COULD sneek in and disturb his noble rest... This of course supposses we can trust him." He leans down to pat Uprising and looks to Kurt, expectant.

	The Raven lands on the head of Shadowlark's horse, "Wraa! Me talkings to nobles? Nwro Ways! The just as sooning eats me..." The Raven gives Jurgen the evil eye...
	"Don't get delusions of grandeur, bird." advises a smiling Jurgen. "You're peasant food at best."
	The Raven doesn't even grace Jurgen's peasant comment with a reply, he just ruffs his feathers and ignores him.
	"Me thinks I hit a nerve"

	Kurts stands in silence as he studies the layout of this city. As the companions discuss their options, Kurt simply shrugs his shoulders and smirks a bit. "I say we simply go in, find the noble house we need to be in, and do what we came here to do." Turning to look at the group, "No one knows who we are so sneaking in is pointless. Secrecy is valid, but once word spreads that we went to the Lady Melissa's house, we will be marked." Kurt then turns to Jurgen, "You seem wise to the street. How fast will anyone who is looking out for us, find us once we start our investigation?"
	The man from Dongarten points to the darkening sky, apparently surprised. "You want to do the examining bit in this light ? Better to wait for the day if you ask me, less chance to miss something... And I already said that anyone that wants to know what we look like, knows what we look like. Coupled with the fact that if only ONE place is staked in this burg, it's the Lyon-Brette's, I give it oh - three, maybe four heartbeats plus the time to run to this Melesant. Let's at least try to catch any watching before we trample our way in, agreed ?"
	"Hmm, it seems to me Jurgen has the right idea here." Says Biren. "If they are expecting us (which is very likely since the whole court has word of us by now), 'they' will likely know quite fast."
	Kurt smiles and nods his head in agreement. "Okay then let us get ourselves a room for the evening and start in the morning. Shall we?"  Kurt then directs his horse into town in search of an inn.
	Jurgen knees his mare to the left, "Might as well enter as if we came from the south. Don't think they have a man shortage, but it can't hurt."
	Glancing at Jurgen "I think Jurgen would probably be best at noticing our watchful eyes and that should be his biggest concern when we first enter the city, just my thoughts guys." Biren shruggs and continues to keep himself busy.
	"I can try, but people have a right to look at you, you know. Unless the guy is painfully obvious, I won't spot anything. Better idea would be to send the bird up above and wait to see if anyone breaks cover with any precipitation after we've gone by." A pause to see if Kurt goes for it. Then, "Don't think it's worth it ?"
	Kurt who was lost in thought at the moment, snaps out and replies, "Actually, it is a sound idea but you have to ask Raven himself.  I do not control him nor do I order him. Raven does his own thing." (Jurgen grumbles something about birds, free will and the disadvantages thereof.) Kurt then looks to Raven... "Well?  Do you feel like scouting?" 
	"Wraa..! Danger afoot. Not go anywhere lonesome!"
	Kurt nods his head and looks to the group. "There you have it.  Raven will not be scouting as he senses danger."
	"For crying out loud..." Jurgen addresses the bird, "You'll be just above us you little... You go up, you do a few circles and then you come back down when we get a little farther. A pigeon could do it !"
	Kurt laughs out loud at Jurgen's words.  Regaining some measure of control, Kurt looks to Raven then to Jurgen, "I shall say this in Raven's defense... Raven is a lot smarter than we both know and if he says his gut tells him there's danger, then chances are, flying is part of that danger. However, I shall not get in the way of either of you and your debate." Kurt then continues riding in silence as he listens to the outcome of the battle of voices and thoughts.
	"Yep! Pigeons does lots things... like dodo on heads! I civilization! Does whats I wanting!"
	"So you wanting Kurt to bite it ? Not wanting to lift a feather to prevent it ? Rather callous of you bird. I thought he was your friend..." Jurgen shakes his head sadly and looks away, seemingly unconcerned.
	"Wra! Kurtling takes cares himselves! Him mighty magi... you weakie with dagger." The raven actually sticks his tongue out at you.
	Jurgen looks haughtily at the sky. Under his breath, he is heard to mutter: "Useless, uterly useless..."

	The group finishes it's turn and starts riding towards town. Jurgen asks, "So we settle in and I go take a look. See if I can scare up some watchers... Do we contact the Lord or not ?"
	As Kurt rides into the city, "I do plan on making contact tonight.  I will send a runner to let them know that we are here. Or, I might just go over there myself. I think if there's anyone out here that may want us dead, I'd rather have them start stalking us now than later. At least that way, we can either be killed, or we can take out their assassins and narrow down on who is trying to kill us.  Whoever is trying to kill us, must be linked to the missing nobles."
	Jurgen smiles, "Oh I don't know about that. I've made my fair share of 'friends' over the years... Though granted they're unlikely to be visiting Hanke right now."
	Biren pipes up, "As to getting to see some noble I may be able to assist there but I will need some help."
	"Do tell ?" asks Jurgen.
	"Well, I have played the noble born before, it seems I have a knack for it (something I learned when I was a kid I guess) but we would have to make sure of the story. I suggest if we go this route Kurt or Shadowlark can be the care taker of my lands as I was too young to take over them myself, while the other one can be a servant, getting us in I wont imagine will be to hard as I just want the lord to grant me my title over the land, much like a token gesture.  Once were in to the keep we can pretty much do what we want." Smiling at Jurgen "Or we have the same story Kurt or Shadowlark being the caretaker and we have captured a bandit that was leading a revolution on the lands, that would have to be Jurgen. I think the first one has more merit but the second one seems like it would be a lot of fun." Shrugging Biren waits for other ideas.
	"Yes, well... The second one has the 'advantage' of getting me thrown in the dungeon... Not that it would hold me long, but it's the principle of the thing. In any event, it would only get us past people who know our names but not what we look like." Shrug. "Small advantage for the trouble."

	They pass several boys and girls in herald's livery as they worm their way through the city. Kurt calls to one of the boys. He quickly pulls out a piece of paper, writes a few words on it, seals it and hands it to the boy with his fee. "Take this to the home of Lady Melissa. Once you are done, be sure to return and seek me out at the Fair Weather Soldier. I want a confirmation that you have delivered my message." Kurt then hurries the boy along.
	"It shall be delivered, magi." The boy takes off at a run.

	The party makes its way down to the Fair Weather Soldier. 
	Pausing just outside the inn Biren smile "Well this seems like a fine place, to enjoy ourselves." Ensuring Archibald is well taken care of, Biren lets out a relaxing breath "Back to civilization" he whispers to himself.
	Inside is a peaceful atmosphere where fifteen or so beings are making conversation and eating. The group picks out a corner booth and orders dinner and rooms for the night. The waiter, a dwarf, brings dinner and spirits.
	"I'll eat later. It's the hour of the Dog, friends, there's prime hunting to be had." Jurgen smirks and turns, his gray cloaked back starting to recede. "Back by morning."
	Biren stops him, "Check in once and a while so we dont have to go looking for ya, just so we know our grey friends are having too much fun with ya." Biren winks at the mention of the grey friends to ensure that Jurgen remembers about the assassins.
	"Do what I can." Jurgen exits, closing the door rather harder than needed.
	Taking his seat once more, Biren looks to the bartender "A strong ale and a good meal my fine sir if you could so much as bother, and room and there be such a thing around."
	The bartender sends a waitress out with your meal and a strong flagon of ale. She brings food for Kurt and Shadowlark as well. After you are finished with the meal, the bartender will provide you with a room key for a silver piece.
	Kurt waves off his room key. "I will wait here for a bit. I am expecting that boy to return with my confirmation of a message delivered. For those of you who wish to head to your rooms, be on guard as I expect trouble from potential assassins. Until then, enjoy your rest." Kurt then watches the room while sipping his drink. Kurt also looks to see if anyone is looking at the group one time too many for a casual observer but doesn't spot any.

	Biren smiles at the Raven, "Now for that meal I owe you what can I get ya."
	"Want meat, rotten best! Deer maybees?"
	Biren orders the bird his desired dish. The waitress, nonplussed, comes back with a rather fragrent dish the raven tackles with gusto...
	Looking to the remaining members of the party, Biren leans in close to whisper "If trouble arises would it not be better to know what rooms we are in so that the others may come and help?". Leaning back on his chair he seems to relax enjoying his view of the bar room. Before long he is anxious to hit his room but will remain with Kurt until he recieves word.
	Kurt looks to Biren, "You seem ready to head to your room Biren. Why don't you go ahead and rest. I am simply waiting on a courier, then I too shall find sleep. There is no use in both of us staying up here. Worry not as I don't think anyone will try anything here. I am safe enough as is, even without my art."

	About an hour later, the boy returns with a copy of the seal of the heralds guarenteeing delivery.
	Kurt nods as he reads the confirmation letter and then heads to his room only after stopping by the barkeep to get his key. The rooms are spacious and comfortable... not to mention quiet for this area.
	He takes off his robe and washes up. Once done, Kurt dons a different robe, one Crimson in color. The robe flares up a crimson red as Kurt summons the energy of the weave to meld his mind to his magi robe of ebon shadows. Kurt then studies his spells and rests while contemplating the group's next move and how to make the group work more effectively. Muttering to himself, he shakes his head, "So far the only other person who is active in any planning or thinking is Jurgen. I need to figure out how to make the others respond with thief thoughts as well." Kurt finally lays down to rest, taking out his magical dagger to block any unwanted magical scrying.

                                       * * *

	Jurgen makes a show of exiting the inn, slamming the door and walking loudly down the street. 'and so it begins...' The evening draws to its full open splendor with the stars illuminating a moonless sky. The fog has just begun to creep into the city and turns your feet invisible to your eyes. It is cool and humid out with the flickering light of the oil lights of the more affluent city-dwellers putting dancing shadows on the walls. 
	He takes a few corners seemingly at random, stopping in front of an alcove containing the statue of an anonymous god to contemplate what is left of it. The statue is so old it has been worn almost completly smooth. (His right dagger is sticking out of its sheath. On its shiny surface, Jurgen is looking under his arm.) Few normal folk are out and about and those that are are the swaggering, young, well-armed nobles of merchant families and true peerage looking for beer or trouble. Jurgen notes no-one following him, but still has a feeling of being watched.
	Shrugging, he looks up at the sky, shrugs again and resumes walking... only to spin in place and stride back from whence he came. At the previous intersection, he hesitates then turns the other way, nodding to himself: this is the correct path. He notes shadowy figures watching from alcoves and shops... the sewer grates are often disturbed...
	'Guild seems quite active... unless they have a BIG rat problem.' Decision made, the human thief makes his way to the Bower's Wife. He'd heard tales of this place, told from travelling members of the family (his father among them). A hub for smuggling apparently, watched over by one Sileus Varen. With luck, they could direct him to an old friend of his, Snowball by name, exiled to Hanke after a 'misunderstanding'. Barring that, there was some info to be acquired for the right price, he was quite sure, and information is what he needed most right now.
	The Bower's Wife stood on Rowers Lane near the border of the merchant's district. The ground floor is a tavern, catering to the lower classes, but what interrested Jurgen lay in the back rooms and on the first floor where most of the shady businnes was transacted.
	After scanning the common room to see if Snowball isn't there (No such luck unfortunetly), Jurgen knocks on the bar to attract attention, "Sileus Varen ?"
	A tough the size of a small mountain takes up the bartender's slot in front of you. His scarred face and burly build are quite intimidating. His voice is reminiscent of a gravel pit: "Who be askin'? Be tellin' fast id me be yous." He stands between you and a door beside the bar. Almost certainly leading to Sileus's lair.
	"You tell him it's Edge from down south. He'll want to see me." He lifts his hand from the counter, revealing a gold coin underneath.
	The tough takes the coin and walks into the back for a minute. He comes out, and waves you in. Inside is a small, smokey room with the scum of the realm evident. Your good friend is there as well as a few scum you don't recognize. 
	With a sarcastic feel, "Well, well, its the duller edge. What brings you to peruse my section of town?"
	"Felicitous greatings to you too." Jurgen grins and walks over to Sileus, fat bearded pirate that he is. "As to what brings me here, your good fortune dragged me kicking and screaming to your door. Got me a generous employer begging to fill your purse just for friendly conversation and the occasionnal helping hand." He turns to his friend and raises a hand in greeting, "Hey there, Snowball." before returning his attention to the owner of the place. "Interrested ?"
	The pirate looks at you and laughs. "Looks like life has been keeping you skinny! Not me, har har! So, you want to buy information? What kind... that will determine how expensive it will be."
	"Oh nothing much... Scenic guides to a few private houses and their occupants, also your good word to the Guild so that no 'accidents' befall a working fellow." Jurgen looks at the assembled croud, all within ear shot. "Perhaps we should discuss it over a _private_ drink ?"
	"Of course." You re-locate to the second floor into a little used, and very secure feeling, corner room.
	Jurgen makes a show of extracting the bottle of Champagne and showing the label , "Nothing but the best for you." He pours the expensive liquid into two mug of questionnable origin. 'What a waste. Still, got to drive the point home that I got the money.' "To unlawful ventures !"
	Wipping his mouth, he leans across the table, "I'm going to trust you with this, since I have no choice. I'm working for a noble family who'se rather concerned about the recent missing people. Fear they could be next. They wouldn't trust me with the family fortune (Shame really) so I got to pass by an intermediary for the money. Shouldn't be any problems though.
	"So anything on the missing Lady and Lord would interrest my employer (who did it and why)."
	"Only that they wer'nt killed. Reports from the ratlings <low level thieves> say they were taken alive by some sort of magic... big magic. But there was some work done here as well." 
	Jurgen nods, "Load off my employers mind, no doubt. You got a name or a location for those ratlings ? I know a guy who knows magic, he might like a word..."
	"Nope... they're mine, though so we can say that I know what they do."
	"Ah. But I'm no magical expert and you got to admit that fresh off the tongue is better. I assume those guys seen it first hand ? If so, I could wrangle my guy and have us a meeting in a place of your choosing... Just looking to talk, nothing else."
	"I saw too. Just ask."
	Jurgen smiles, "Businness is slow, eh ? Hold on." He extracts a piece of parchment and his quill, then tilts his chair back, parchment on knee. "Ok, you were where when it happened ?"
	"The where and when you know. Late that night we were pulling a job on a merchant near Lyon-Brette estate. We were... wrapping things up... when we heard the fat lady scream. We all looked up and we could see her through a window, well, most of her anyway. She was being cornered by a man in working garb. As soon as she raised a hand in defeat, he threw something at her... and she disappeared. He went out the window and straight down the turret, no harness. Didn't want to get in his way, ya know?"
	"I know." Jurgen nods his understanding, writing it all down almost word for word. "You get a good look at the guy ? Clothes, faces, anything you remember could be damn useful."
	"Just wearing black with face masks. Really pro. Might be part elven."
	Jurgen refills both their mugs and takes a swig himself, "What about the magical mumbo jumbo ? Could you describe it ? Heard it told once that none of them casters do thing exactly alike..."
	"Don't know notin' about magic. Just know it was her."
	"By the by, those locals be Guild or free spirits ? I mean, I'd like to cut them up and look inside if I find them, but if they're Guild..."
	"Mostly guild... we have a few free. We let 'em work."
	"Um. I'd also like to take a peak at the Lyon-Brette scene before the High King's men trample in from the Capital (Plan of the house and surrounding sewers would greatly facilitate my entry). I could sell you info on them if you're interrested..?
	He smiles broadly. "For fifty gold soverigns, I already be havin' that for ye! Pay up and save the trouble."
	Jurgen chuckles merily, "Come now, I'm not asking for the Dorken tower. I could bribe my way into a Lord's vault for less than that. Unless that map is damn extensive, I really couldn't pay more than 20... Another drink ?" The bottle hovers over Sileus' mug.
	Sileus goes for the drink, "hmmm.. but this is more secure. 35."
	"True, and you wouldn't sell second rate merchandise so let's just chuck comon sense out the window, 30."
	"ahh, if it wern't for de booze, it'd be 35, but 30 it is." he reaches for a handout.
	Jurgen counts out the money and hands it over as he receives the maps in a sealed scroll tube. "This will come in handy, thanks... Lastly, I'd like to borrow Snowball from under you. This ain't my turf and I wouldn't want to step on any toes by mistake. Be nice to see him again."
	"I need him. Yer on yer own for this one. I just be promisin' that ye won't 
be harmed or hindered. That much you've got comin'."
	"Much obliged. I'm sure father would appreciate it." Jurgen polishes off the last of the champagne, apparently ready to leave. Then, very casually, "You got any advice for a young pup on your streets ? I hear there's a Melesant fellow that's been causing trouble."
	Sileus gets really serious: "Stay CLEAR of her. She's an extremely powerful magus. Killed a couple of my crew with a WORD."
	Jurgen grimaces, "Ugh... Still, I'm sure she wouldn't be interrested in a fat noble woman, right ?" He looks to the smuggler for reassurance.
	"That's not what I've heard. She may be doing the shoes <slang for a heist or abduction>."
	"Just great ! She planning on transforming her into something vile, I imagine ?"
	"She's already there!" Vicious laughter.
	Jurgen smiles and shakes his head, "I really must see a portrait of this gall... or maybe not. From what I hear she'd make a good Medusa stand-in. Maybe her husband and kin PAID to get her gone."
	"Possibly, rumor be she'n not only large but orders about as well. Me, that wasn't a kin type o' job."
	Jurgen extends a hand and grabs Sileus' wrist in a handshake, "Fun is fun, but I got some business to attend to as I'm sure you do... Um, could I use your back door ? I got me that prickly feeling in the back of the neck that says I'm dragging a rat behind me... Good one too."
	"nice doin' business w/ ya."
	"Hey, you've saved me a great deal of trouble. I'm grateful... Tell Snowball I'll be back to chew the fat and down a few. For now, duty calls." Jurgen makes his exit through the back door. 
	'Um, Not much to report,' He thinks, walking away from the Bower's Wife. 'but I said I'd check in from time to time and the Soldier is on the way anyway...'

	Each step ripples through the ground fog as Jurgen makes his way back to the Fair Weather Soldier. He stops at the bottom of back the wall, his cloak settling in place, waiting. When the only other occupant of the alley turns the far corner, his fingers grip his rope in a peculiar way and the other hand points at an eave up above. "Up." Magical rope from the far south uncurls. No sooner is it fixed in place that Jurgen lifts himself up, touching the wall as little as possible to avoid waking light-sleepers inside. "Coil."
	Crouched on top, rope back around his chest, the darkly dressed burglar looks down on the alley he just left, trying to spot any followers coming after him. He then turns and surveys his roof and those adjacent in the light rising from the streets. He does note that the roofs are very well made in this part of town, but no strange silouhette inhabits them at the moment.
	A belt pouch is opened, a small cylinder uncorked and the quiet glow of Jurgen light tube is born. Careful steps take him to the front of the building, examining his roof in more details as he goes. There are guards on the roofs of many of the buildings, including his. It's hard to sit up there and not be noticed by someone considering this roof is shorter than most of the ones around here.
	The main road is below him, fog, oil lamps and all. Jurgen puts his light away and settles down, watching the people and the buildings, trying to spot something out of place... Time passes. There is nothing of note except for a man who constanly watches the entrance to the Inn. He doesn't interact with anyone, just watches. 'Well, well, what have we here ?' From where he's standing, Jurgen cannot see him very well. He is probably human, about 6'1 tall, and wearing black clothing trimmed with silver.
	Careful not to be seen, Jurgen makes his way from roof to roof, circling to a position a short way behind the man. He presses one end of his rope to the corner roof. "Attach." Silent as a bat, he topples forward. Rope uncoiling, the agile thief rolls down nearly to the group before stopping himself with a light jerk. "Detach." He drops to the street, concealed by the shadow of a veranda. "Coil." 
	Jurgen quietly moves in behind the tall, black man. The closer he gets, the more he can see that he's pretty well dressed, especially for a guy leaning on a post quite near an alley. Jurgen raises his dagger, and as he brings it down, pommel first, the black man spins 180 degrees and catches the dagger on its downward arc in an iron grip. Using his superior weight and surprise to his advantage, he quickly pushes them both into the alley. Once there, he maintains his grip on Jurgen's weapon arm with the practiced distance, balance, and stance of an experienced fighter. "Who might ye be, ratling, wanting addle my brains?"
	Jurgen twirls his dagger into an underhand grip. It draws a line in the man's leather gauntlets and scrapes steel beneath. The stranger's grip never even loosens. Not missing a beat, the thief calmly responds, "If you go looking at people's place of residence with so little discretion (in the middle of the night no less), you got to expect someone to ask you a few questions... I'm Edge, and yourself ?"
	The black man stands easy, Jurgen gets the feeling he could crush his wrist at any moment. "I am Sanethicus. You were spending time on the roof. I was waiting for some people I am to kill. Ah, they are here." Out of the corner of his eye Jurgen can see Kurt, the Raven, and Biren emerge into the alley. "Would you be with them, by chance? It would make my life easier to have all in my clutches in one fell swoop."
	Smiling at the rather large man, Biren whispers "I say lad, you came to kill us, exactly why ? Me and my friend here" pointing to Kurt "are innocent in anything this man has done." Biren waits leaning on the balls of his feet ready to spring.
	"See ? Don't mind me and go about your business," Jurgen lays all his weight on his trapped wrist, using it as an anchor to propel both feet off the ground and into the man's face. "I'm just passing through." The wrist moves, Jurgen compensates but not enough: the kick lands squarely in the man's midsection with a hard, re-inforced thump. The black man seems to ignore the hit and Jurgen is pretty sure he hurt his feet more than his opponent.
	Seeing that Jurgen has not freed himself, Biren rushes across the barely 15 feet separating him from the large man in an attempt to dislodge the pair. Biren seems to be decidedly larger than the dark man... especially in muscle mass. The dark stranger turns slightly and off-handedly slams Jurgen into the alley wall and lets him go. Jurgen shatters several bricks and possibly a few ribs as well. He comes up spitting blood.
	"I will have to hazard that you three are in league. Acceptable. I was told only of the magi." The dark man easily sidesteps Biren’s rush and retreats about 10 feet deeper into the alleyway, putting the group in front of him spread out in sort of a hemisphere (Jurgen at his left, biren center, Kurt right). He continues to be unarmed, but his movements have revealed hard, re-inforced, body-formed black leather armor beneath his cloak. He is also carrying a crimson, glowing, dagger in a back sheath, slung upside-down.

	Kurt quickly and softly mumbles words to a fast and short spell, "Source of all power, darkness beyond twilight, shatter my foes with deadly force" while pointing to the stranger trapping Jurgen.
	Four glowing bolts of magic shoot out at the dark man. The stranger hears the words, and seems to catch the motion out of the corner of his eye. He raises his hand, and the bolts slam into some sort of metal circlet imbedded in his left glove. As far as can be seen, they did no damage. The man’s infuriating grin simply gets larger.
	Staring in shock as his spell seemed to be absorbed, Kurt's well trained eyes focus on the amulet on the man's glove. With a frown, Kurt's mind come to a calculating conclusion as he raises his hands once more... One hand pushes up, his other hand pushes down in the air, then both hands move back up at the same time.  While doing this, Kurt mutters his next spell... "Light as a feather, forces of nature has no meaning !"

	With Jurgen thrown clear, Biren smiles, draws his sword and makes a move to engage the powerful stranger.
	Jurgen wipes blood off his face, grumbling, "Couldn't have been a run of the mill assassin. Oh no, we get to be killed by the best. Lucky us." He rolls sideways to a flanking position, wincing when his bruises touch the ground. To the dark man, "What's the matter, poison too subtle for you ?" The assassin smiles, but ignores the fallen rogue, turning his full attention to Biren. 
	Timing himself with Biren's attack, Jurgen grabs his rope and points between the man's legs, "Across !" The rope instantly crosses the distance between the rogue and his assailant. 
	The assassin is forced to sidestep Jurgen's maneouver, leaving himself open to Biren's sword. It draws a line of blood on his left arm. "Hmmm, an excellent shot. Your teamwork is remarkable for the scum you are. This may prove challenging."
	"Coil." The rope winds itself around Jurgen's torso, ready for another use.
	Even with his arm slowed, the stranger is incredibally fast. Noting the mage incanting in the background, he picks up a rock from the cobble-stone alley. The stone catches the startled mage in the stomach. Kurt's spell threatens to take hold wildly as his next words are horriblly distorted. However, the experienced mage, keeps his energies under control, but is unable to finish his spell. Kurt puts his hand to the hole in his robes and comes back with bright blood...
	Biren takes advantage of the stranger's apparent distraction and attacks again. The black dressed man, however, seems to be on top of the situation. Biren's masterful disengage is met by an equally mastered flat-hand parry that takes all the force from his attack.

	The raven, circling a few feet above the battle, quickly flies into a second-story window... "I'sss gets helps!" He darts in, a terrified feminine scream is heard... "Sorries! Not be Shadowlarkings room!"

	Kurt stares in amazement at seeing his own blood on his hands. The stranger threw a rock and it penetrated his armor and skin! Trusting in his magic to take care of his wound, Kurt focuses his mind back on the task at hand. He clasps his hands together then spreads them open in a fan shape and wiggles his fingers. As he does this, Kurt quickly chants, "Energies of the spheres, controlled by hand, bending to one's will, be free from contact!" 
	Between thrusts and parries Biren whistles through his clenched teeth "my such a wonderful day I wonder what exactly will fall on your head in a few moments" continuing to slam endlessly into the unarmed assassin, Biren attempts to keep his throwing arm at bay to allow Kurt to finish a spell. Biren makes one of his better attacks, slipping past the stranger's nearly impenetrable open-hand guard. Biren's sword slams into his opponents's leg, opening a bloody gash in his armor. The stranger grunts in pain, but is still strong. 
	The black and blue rogue takes the opportunity to dive for the assassin's cape. He gets it, but is unprepared for the result. As he pulls, the un-earthly quick assassin falls with the tug, a well aimed kick slamming into Biren and bouncing him off the wall of the alley. He continues his controlled fall into Jurgen, the assassins now tightly rolled body bowling him into the wall, and further cracking his ribs. Leaping off of Jurgen, he re-engages the stunned Biren with a well thrown, large cobblestone... 
	The black man's movements, however, leave him open to Kurt's magic. The amulet on the stranger's glove shatters with incredible force knocking both him and Biren to the ground. The stranger is quickly up again, hand bleeding but still usable... one finger definitely broken. His face is now a mask of intensity. "You vermin will die today, or it will become my lifequest to kill you." He draws his crimson dagger... its curved blade nearly drips with magic.
	Biren quickly engages the man again trying to gain the upper hand and keeping the deadly dagger from his body. Smiling once again, "Ahh, I'll make it my life quest to skin your worthless hide." 
	Kurt quickly begins the working of another spell, but unlike before, a smile plays upon his lips and a spark is in his eye. Knowing the both Biren and Jurgen are too close to the assassin for any real powerful magics to be cast, Kurt improvises with destructive magics no less deadly yet better controlled. "Source of all power, darkness beyond twilight, shatter my foes with deadly force! Let us see how you fare without your spell draining amulet assassin." Kurt’s 3 bolts of magical energy slam into the assassin’s arms and legs, burning holes in his skin and clothing. 
	Jurgen on the other hand, appears to be the only one of the trio who is not having the time of his life. He stumbles from his impact crater and trots around to the man's back, "Not a good night to be a wall, it seems... Return !" His dropped dagger slides on the pavement, finaly taking off and inserting itself into its sheet. A hard dagger thrust to the assassin's back only gains Jurgen a sore wrist as his dagger fails to penetrate his opponents armor. "I really must get the name of your armorer..."
	Grunting in pain and in pleasure Biren continues to pound away at his foe. His offensive, however, is short. The assassin parries both of Biren’s attacks with his left hand, and takes the opportunity to weave his way into his defenses to stab him with the glowing dagger. 
	A wave of intense heat flows from the dagger and through Biren. His clothes catch fire and the large wound that is open instantly cauterizes. Biren stumbles back, coughing in pain from the assault of the magical weapon.

	Looking out the window, Shadowlark calls down into the alley. "Hey! You! Fellow in black!" His shout is so violent that the combatants start. The man in black turns his face up just in time to avoid a chamber pot, the contents of which lands directly on Biren, who, clutching at his seared and wounded stomach, could not get out of the way in time. "It tasted pretty good in a tankard last night," shouts the druid. "How does it taste this morning now I’ve finished with it ?" Not waiting for an answer Shadowlark snatches up his staff and runs swiftly downstairs. At best he had caused a diversion. He had to get out into the alley and add what weight he could to the brawl.

	"Whoa. Weird weather we're having, eh Biren ?" Jurgen rolls back, putting some distance between himself and that fiery weapon from hell. "Yeah verily, the night air is sharp tonight." Daggers take flight, searching for their mark. Both of them slam into the assassin, one draws blood, the other goes careening off into the night (To return a while later). The assassin is starting to visibly slow.
	Becoming completely defensive in his attacks Biren puts his concentration in keeping the magical blade away from his fair skin hopefully allowing the others to make a move. Burns, waste and bruises seem to cover the majority of his body, still managing a grin he tries to hold his ground.
	The strangers riposts is a sharp kick that stuns Biren for a moment followed by a dagger thrust that slices open the armor and body of his upper left shoulder. Biren's clothing is smoldering and his blood is beginning to flow freely. His blows, however, are telling and the assassin is no better shape than Biren is.

	Ignoring all the commotion and distractions as he was well trained to do when working his magic, Kurt continues weaving his magical arts focusing on the extremely powerful assassin "Source of all power, burning by segmented time, energetic balls of flames, shoot forth!" As Kurt chants, he claps his hands together, pushes outwards away from his body, then balls both his hands into one large fist. Balls of magical energy soar from Kurt's fist as he extends his arms. The balls roll over the already fatigued assassin, burning him further.
	The assassin begins to retreat. "You are better than you seem, King's Scum. I will return for you." The assassin throws down a small ball of substance that explodes into a dense smoke, then turns and runs.
	Kurt stares in shock at the still standing assassin. Not only standing but making a break for the end of the alley ! "We cannot afford to let him get away to recover and strike at us again !"

	Just then Shadowlark enters the fray through the back door of the inn and into the dense smoke. His planned shouting to distract the enemy does not seem such a good idea all at once. In fact, getting out of bed no longer seemed like a good idea. He could not see the end of his staff when he extended it. It was a long shot, but it just might work: if he couldn’t see the end of his staff, then nobody else could see it either !
	He begins to whirl it round and round, holding it out at arms length so the most of the width of the alleyway was blocked by spinning staff at just below head height. Anybody trying to pass was going to get hit either coming or going and several pounds of wood hurtling around was not a good thing to get hit by. 'I wonder how long I can keep this up without breathing,' thinks Shadowlark. 'And I wonder when I am going to remember some useful spells.'

	Agreeing completely with Kurt, Biren follows the assassin away from the smoke. "You know that was quite rude, at least stick around for the party." Smiling despite his condition he moves forward, hopefully preventing the assassin from fleeing any further. Biren, however, is in for a rude surprise: a poorly timed twirling of Shadowelark's quarterstaff <and a critical failure> contacts the warrior in the stomach, knocking the wind out of his already wounded form. 
	Shadowlark barely misses taking out Jurgen as well as the rogue makes a move with his magical rope. "Second time's the... Hell if I know. Across !" Jurgen's mystical rope unfurls, coiling through the air like a living snake. 
	The rope has its intended effect. The assassin is heard falling to the ground. He continues rolling for the alleyway, then stands and speaks: "Black Master, aid me to escape!"
	As the last words pass his lips, Kurt's magic missiles streak though the smoke and into their target. The assassin (visible only to Jurgen) doubles over in pain. He takes out a black carved hand from a pouch and breaks it. Swirling mists begin to enshroud the assassin, sucking him in towards a gate that opens and just as quickly closes...
	But not before Jurgen gets to act. A final thrown dagger catches the assassin in the throat. A loud gurgling scream is the last of the assassin to be heard. His belt and pouches, dagger, cloak, and armor fall to the ground as the rest of him is sucked through the portal which shuts with a thunderclap... 

	The group quickly collects itself as thick smoke continues to obscure the area. Frightened and stunned townsfolk begin to wander out of buildings to see what all the commotion has been, the smoke keeping onlookers to the fringes of the battlefield. 
	Glaring at Shadowlark Biren gets up from the ground "Solid, that staff of yours". 
	Shadowlark faces Biren, obviously upset by the hurt he has accidentally done to his companion. "Biren, I am so sorry! In the darkness and everything, I just had to do what I could. Please, let me heal you. Those spells at least I can apply usefully."
	Shadowlark makes the necessary gestures to heal Biren. A white light fills his hands and many of the worst of Biren's wounds close. 
	Removing his already useless shirt, Biren moves forward, sword still in hand to where the assassin disappeared. Smiling despite the pain of his remaining wounds, he whispers to Jurgen as he goes by "Nice shot Jurgen. And I was beginning to worry about what we were going to do with the body." Shrugging, the shirtless Biren begins to collect the assassins remaining equipment. "Shall we retire for the evening, my body seems a little tired, and a bath is surely needed. A stiff drink probably wouldn't hurt and then maybe a story Jurgen ?"
	The man in question is rather busy cursing up a storm, "All that and the son of a goat gets away ! I wanted to see his undead spirit writhe as Whorlin's magical talon's tore him to bits ! A triple curse on that..." He whirls to face the cloud of smoke, "Hey Kurt, you in there ? Anything you can do to track him down ?"
	Kurt drops his hands and frowns, "No Jurgen, I do not have the means to track that assassin."
	"Wonderful." Calming down somewhat, Jurgen goes to clap Biren on the shoulder but fails to find an intact spot (Good thing too as Biren cringes at the thought of a hand on his torn body), "'A little tired' he says ! I would be embers by now and he's just 'a little tired'." He shakes his head, unbelieving. "I think we should visit a temple and rouse the priest out of his holy sleep (all on the crown's copper, of course) before we go get plastered. You're likely to leak like a sieve and I'm 'a little tired' too... How did you get here so fast anyway ?"
	Before he can answer, Kurt walks back to where the group is in the smoke. "Let's get out of here while the smoke will cover us. Let us head back to one of our rooms first. We need to examine the assassins belongings and we need rest. We can send for a priest so that those of you who are injured can rest your bodies instead of searching this city for a temple."
	"Here, here." agrees Jurgen. "Didn't think of reeling the guy in instead of going to look... Got to keep reminding myself, I'm royalty now." 
	Looking to his wounds and large burn on his body Biren motions towards the dagger "It seems it has taken a liking to me," touching the welted scare "if no one minds I would like to keep it at least till the end of our task in case we meet another one of our friends, I would like to be a little more prepared."
	Jurgen scatches some of the blood cacking on his face, "Be careful with that thing. It's likely to blow you all the way to dead... Not the best place for splitting loot anyway. Like Kurt says, let's hoof it." He produces a large bag from somewhere and holds it open so Biren can just scoop the stuff inside. Biren scoops quickly and shoulders the bag.
	Kurt then looks at the group as a whole, "If there are no objections to my idea of returning to our rooms and sending for a priest, say so now.  If not, let us be on our way before all this smoke clears.  We can enter the inn through the door that Shadowlark came out of."
	Jurgen smirks as he makes his way to the door, "Next you'll be telling us which feet goes in front... Not that I couldn't use a few pointers about now." His gate IS rather unsteady.

	The less injured Kurt detours as the group heads upstairs and sends a runner to summon a priest of the Crown. He then rejoins the others as they congregates in Kurt's room upstairs. 
	While waiting, the Raven re-enters the room and hops up and down in front of Kurt excitedly. "ME saw! Hims went to the deserted places! Sand and storms and tall tower of magiccs, yes? Sharp eyes be seeing throughs gates!"
	"What in the pits of my uncles are you squawking about, bird ?"
	Kurt raises his hand to silence Jurgen, "Tall tower of magics in a deserted place? Where do you mean Raven?  Do you speak of the ruins that I initially headed too when I first left my tower home?  And who do you speak of? Who did you see?"
	"Himmss... assassssin. Tower is one wes foughts in against Fizzles!"
	Biren nods to the Raven, "Well done friend," looking to Kurt "I have a few questions, indulge me. Exactly what does that place mean to you Kurt? and are we wasting our time here looking for a needle in a haystack ?"
	Kurt listens to Biren and responds to his questions, "We are here to investigate the room of the abducted noble who supports the king. I do not think we are searching for a needle in a haystack as we have yet to even begin searching."
	Jurgen smirks, "That's not entirely true..."
	Biren continues, "and what more should we expect when we come against one of your kind or another one of Jurgen's friends, any thoughts on what we should do, besides keeping them busy?  Magic is not something I need or want to understand but what I understand is that, that one guy nearly ripped off our hides and it is probably best if we have a more structure plan next time, I have a feeling we will need it in the future."

	"Definitely not MY friend," states Jurgen, looking at the hand shaped bruise on his forearm. "He did say he came for the magi... Just before I saw the wall from up close and personnal." Jurgen winces as if re-hearing the crack of his ribs. "Anyways, I can do more than one thing at once. Biren, why don't you empty that bag and we can have a looksee while you all yack away."
	Biren empties the contents of the bag onto the floor. Jurgen picks up each piece with care and examines it thoroughly... nothing is obviously trapped.

	Kurt continues to listen patiently to Biren before answering, "What to expect from fellow wizards?  Depends on their chosen magics. Either way, expect power beyond comprehension and a no lack of sense in using it. I expect that the wizards we will come into will be hard to defeat despite what we plan. As always a sure fire way is to distract him from working his spells and take him out before his magics destroys you. As for Jurgen's friend... I am afraid he is not involved in the King's quest so to speak.  I heard him say he only expected to find a single mage. That was me.  That particular assassin was sent from the Ebon Hand. Probably seeking revenge and maybe to take us out or slow us down on our mission here."

	The priest arrives about then and attends to the wounds of the party. Everyone feels fine after his ministrations. 
	Biren glances quickly at the priest, with just a quick nod for a thank you.
	The man asks kurt for a report: "Chief Investigator, I must report unto the King to gain recompense for my work. What report have you to give as to where you received these grievous injuries?"
	Kurt stares at the priest. "Tell the king that his investigators have been attacked during the course of our investigation. An assassin sent from the Ebon Hand, an evil wizard whom I suspect to be also be one of the many minds behind the abductions. The assassin was well equipped to do battle and highly skilled. It was only from the combined efforts and teamwork of the team that we managed to survive.  From this point on, we shall be visiting the bed chamber of the Lady Melissa to see what clues may been found."
	The priest hurriedly copies down Kurt's words and exits with a bow.

	Once they are alone once more, Jurgen quickly finishes looking over the assassin's things. There is: The long, Crimson, double edged dagger. Two black rings made of Onyx. A heavy set of leather armor, black. A belt of scaly hide, black. A cloak of light-absorbing fabric. Two boots, remarkably light for their size. A pair of gloves, the left of which is charred badly. A black belt pouch with 10 platinum pieces in it and a parchment describing Kurt to a 'T'.
	Kurt nods his head as he reaches for the parchment with his description, "10 platinum for my head huh? Impressive considering most won't care to take on a magi on his own. From what Raven has said, its a definite... Ebon Hand was behind this little encounter.  That tower was his fort that we stormed once before and barely survived to tell the tale.  It looks like I have more to watch for aside from the abductions." Then, as an afterthought... "Come to think of it, Ebon did kidnapped people before.  I wonder if he is up to his old tricks again.  However, I did not think he was politcally motivated.  We shall have to see what we find after the inspection of Lady Melissa's bed chambers."
	Kurt then focuses his attention on the items... "Hold before taking.  Let me see which has been touched by magic... Kurt then begins waving his hand over the pile of items while chanting... "Energies of the spheres, energy of the weave show unto mine eyes." Kurt's eyes glow as he speaks, "All of these items are magical.  Some items stronger than others.  The dagger is easily holds the strongest magics... Alteration type energy flows within this blade. The belt, cloak and pouch hold minor enchantments and the rings have powerful summoning and invocation energies. The armor is laid thick with heavy enchantments and the gloves hold some illusion and enchantment. Lastly, the boots also hold minor enchantments and some traces of alteration energies."
	Kurt then blinks and looks up. "Forgive my assumptions.  I may be speaking in languages that mean didly squat yes? Basically, the dagger, rings and armor hold the most powerful magical energy. The rest have been touched with minor magics. What they do, I do not know. That is the work for diviners and the like... Well, time to divvy up these items." says Kurt, "Okay, I am patient and willing to let you all have first picks. If you need me to repeat what holds what level of magics, just ask."
	Jurgen whistle, "A veritable magic mine, this guy was... Guess I'll go with the gloves. If they fit and don't get in my way too much..." He picks them up and tries them on, mumbling, "Why is every piece of armor we fall on weighs more than the entire Closterwitch family ?"
	The raven squawks, nearly chokes, and falls off of kurt's shoulder doing 
what must be the bird's equivalent of laughing... "yous just weak of armses! Kurts could even wears thats!"
	The dark-haired thief glares at Raven, "I was talking about the armor, <grumble> bird, the gloves I can handle..." The gloves in question are light leather, well formed and they look like they would fit perfectly. Jurgen notices that the damaged left glove is slowly repairing itself: the hole in it is at least half the size it used to be. "Saves on seamstress fees I suppose... Now I have a pair of magical gloves AND a pair of magical boots. Too bad I have no idea what either of them do..."
	Jurgen does everything he can possibily think of with the gloves. He waves, points, touches, twitches, and waggles. It isn't until a mischeveous Raven decides to drop a small pebble on the Rogue's head that something interresting happens... Jurgen sees the rock out the corner of his eye, normally even he could not have caught it, but he reflexes try anyway, and in a blindly quick motion, Jurgen snatches the pebble out of the air.... even the Raven appears impressed. 
	Jurgen smiles wide, "Now THIS I like ! Gloves of Catching Things Out Of The Air !" he chuckles and keeps the gloves. "Think I'll try on the armor while I'm at it. Maybe it's lighter than it looks." Another glare at the bird before grabbing it. The armor is very old black leather. It has been well-cared-for, but the wear marks clearly show its age. There are plates concealed in vulnerable points of the armor. The plates are extremely solid. The armor appears that it would fit Jurgen, and it does, but it is still rather heavy for the rogue and, although absolutely silent, it is a bit difficult to move in. "Figures." Disatisfied, Juren removes the armor from his muscled frame and puts it back on the table. "Well, that's my first pick."
	Biren looks at the equipment on the table, "I would like to carry the dagger, it seems (touching the hilt of his sword) that my weapon was not entirely successful against Jurgen's friend. I think the dagger may help to even things out with next friend we meet. As to the rest I will look through what is remaining but I am happy with just the dagger." Smiling Biren looks at the remaining equipment.
	Kurt nods after both Jurgen and Biren takes their pick.  Kurt glances at the ever silent Shadowlark and shrugs as he reaches for the pair of rings.  "Matching sets of rings eh?  More to my style than heavy armors and what not."
	Kurt then looks to Shadowlark, "Can you work the darker arts?  If so, you can have one of the rings." The druid shakes his head in reply so Kurt begins examining the rings for any runes or words.

	"So what's left ? Belt, pouch, armor and boots... I'll go with belt. If nobody wants the armor, I think Kurt should sell and put it in the groups funds." Jurgen searches his prize for hidden compartments or the like before trying it on. The belt is black and heavy, seeming to be made of a heavy sort of hide unlike any he's ever seen before. It is a plain and simple belt, if a bit too heavy for a rogue. It would fit better as a warrior's weapon belt. You feel no different wearing it as not wearing it. "Eh, I might as well keep it."
	Kurt takes the armor and sets it aside at Jurgen suggestion.  "Good idea. I am sure this armor will sell a good price for our groups funds unless someone else wants it."
	"Um... Any chance these things can be tracked, Kurt ? Wouldn't want 'black master' to follow us in his crystal ball."
	Kurt thinks a moment then looks at Jurgen, "I don't think so.  There is always a chance but I did not detect any tracing magics in my study of the items.  Of course
the Ebon Mage being much more powerful than I, he could easily accomplish hiding his tracing spells, but I think not.  I have taken some of his stuff before with no back lash until now... And even now, the assassin did not know of this new team which tells me I was unknown to the Ebon Hand."
	"Oh well. You gamble every day of your life anyway..." shrugs Jurgen. The remaining pouch and boots go to the quiet Shadowlark.
	That done, Biren turns to leave the group "A quick wash for me lads and I'll be back."  Still shirtless, Biren approaches the first barmaid he can find, to inquire about a bath.
	Biren asks the nearest barmaid his rather smelly question... "With or without company? Without bein' a copper, with, a gold." This is spoken by the comely blonde barmaid who served him earlier.
	"Lassy, you seem to have won my heart, lead the way."  Nodding to his companions he follows the barmaid. Biren is led up to his own room. He will spend the night there with no problems what-so-ever... other than awakening quite late.
	Jurgen sighs and shakes his head, "Good thing the Greys don't appear too subtle. I know people that would have killed us three times over by now..."
	The barmaid chuckles at Jurgen's words... "My lord, what does not killeth thee, makes thee stronger!"
	Jurgen grunts non-comitaly, then leans towards Kurt and Shadowlark. Too low for the departing couple to hear he asks, "What do you think she meant by THAT ?"
	Kurt looks up from his study of the rings..."Two things, one, she will kill him.  Or two, she is going to wear him out with some serious flesh to flesh pleasure combat.  I have a feelings it's the latter."
	"Oh..." is Jurgen's only comment. In the ensuing silence, he holds up a piece of parchment, "Was going to deliver this to Kurt in the morning, what with the curse and all, but..." He lays it down on the table. "That sort of things isn't cheap, you know so I'm claiming the ten plats as expenses.... No worries though, I got maps to the Lyon-Brette castle and underlying sewers in the deal." He pats his tight, then scoops the money into his purse.
	Those who look at the note read: 

		Late that night we were pulling a job on a merchant near Lyon-Brette 
	estate. We were... wrapping things up... when we heard the fat lady scream. We 
	all looked up and we could see her through a window, well, most of her anyway. 
	She was being cornered by a man in working garb. As soon as she raised a hand in 
	defeat, he threw something at her... and she disappeared. He went out the window 
	and straight down the turret, no harness. Didn't want to get in his way, ya 
	know?
		He was just wearing black with face masks. Really pro. Might be part 
	elven. I Don't know notin' about magic. Just know it was her.

	After reading the note, Kurt, with normal looking eyes looks up to Jurgen. "Interesting tale here.  However, how true is it?  May it be possible that whoever wrote this or spoke this may have been telling tales for the gossip or perhaps the money? How good is your sources that you paid hard money for this note ?"
	"Oh He'd lie if somebody else paid for it (more than me, I mean). Don't think he's the type to sell damaged goods otherwise. Would hurt his rep... You think it's the same thing old charcoal pulled tonight with the ebon hand ? Possibly some of it left at the place." Jurgen pokes at the assassin's things. "Didn't get a chance to look over the Lyon-Brette place... Oh well." He rises, ready to head for his room. "Just one thing puzzling me: How did Biren and you get to the fight so fast ? Hanging on the windows or something ?"
	Kurt smiles at the irony of the question, "Well, it was Raven's alert that told us of your troublesome friend." Kurt then nods at Raven.  "He came flying into our room and told us of your back alley problem. Once we heard, we moved."
	"Ah heck ! Should've kept my mouth shut. Now I owe the bird..." Sad shaking of the head, "How utterly unfortunate, can't eat him now..." The brown eyed man makes his way to the door, then turns and gestures, "While on windows: Secure those things. The walls could be climbed by a drunk deer with three left hoofs ! Silent night." A raised hand is lowered and Jurgen exits.
	Kurt glances at the window,"Thanks for the warning."  He says then realizes that Jurgen has already left.

	Once in his room, Jurgen makes his pre-bed preparations (Namely moving it where it can't be shot at from either door or window, searching the walls for hidden passages and planting spikes so they fall and clatter if window or door is opened). Secure, he settles in bed (daggers near enough to draw at a moment's notice) and extracts the sealed scroll case from his cloak. Holding the cylinder close to his eyes, he carefully examines the seal for signs of a trap or sigil, and only then does he open it... away from his face. 'You're never too careful.'
	Spreading the documents before him, which turns out to be four pieces of paper in reality, fitting together to form the complete map. There is a fifth piece that appears blank. 
	'Um... What do we have here ? Not like Sileus to throw in anything for free, even paper.' Jurgen examines the culprit for any markings on its surface, then looks to see if it actually isn't two thin pieces stuck together and finaly bathes both sides in the warmth of the lamp, 'Invisible ink perhaps.' he thinks. No luck. 
	But, as jurgen holds it up to the light, he notices a strange symbol watermarked on the paper. "Anyone want to lay odds it's an explosive rune ?" grumbles Jurgen to the empty room. As no one takes him up on it, he walks over to the far corner (with his trusty lamp) before looking at the thing in more details. 'These precautions are bound to pay off eventually... In the meantime, they just make me look silly...' Wry grin.
	The watermark is a strange, stylized rune. Almost matching a distorted '5'. Jurgen studies it intently with no ill effects: it's acting like a simple 
watermark at this time <:)>... It seems to be the watermark of a textile company run by the Melesant family. They make paper, and a variety of other nobility goods. "This one must be out of the main shop, right under their ancestral home. Some 3 miles outside of Hanke itself if I remember my local geography (out in the boonies no less)."
	Jurgen shrugs and gets back to examining the main map, leaving this mystery for later. He tries to get a feel for the general arrangement of the rooms within the Lyon-Brette house and how it places in its neighborhood (among other things) until the  day's events catch up to him. He then slips into bed for a much deserved bout of furious resting.


CHAPTER 5 -  Old stones and open hands

	The morning after the desperate battle with the assassin dawns. Or, at least for some, it dawns a bit later than expected. As the sun creaps through eastward windows, the Investigators are roused, beaten and sore.
	They meet in a corner of the inn not affected by the sunlight. Jurgen, bleary eyed, brings down his maps. Kurt and Biren, seriously sore despite the healing they received, settle with groans into their seats. Shadowlark, seeming a bit ill, along with a skittish looking Raven, join last.
	The barkeep serves the group breakfast: "On the house," he intones, "That be une mean beatin' ye took last eve."
	"Hey thanks." To the others in a lower voice, "Hope the stories don't say how many there were on the other side or we're going to look a mite silly." chuckles Jurgen. "Let's leave a bit of the group funds aside to bribe the minstrel who shall tell our heroic tale, agreed ?"
	As the group slowly eats, the dark-circled Jurgen unfolds the secrets of his 
maps: "Big place the Lyon-Brette's. It's a wonder they can find their shoes in the morning... Anyway, I figure this is the turret my source was talking about." a large finger taps the parchment. "Might want to take some bearings so we don't step on whatever 'He of the black armor' tossed. There's also a well almost right down that thing, maybe part of his escape route." He rips a piece of bread off the loaf and proceeds to consume it. "<chew> Makes sense he didn't go poof on his way out since he took the bother of flying down to ground level. <chew, chew> Who is this Torm guy anyway ? Not the God of kidnapping, by any chance ?"
	Kurt reaches for some juice and as he settles his sore body into the chair. Sipping the drink, "This map will be useful as we're checking the place out.  I believe Torm is a war god. I may be wrong though... You are right Jurgen, this
place is huge." Kurt then reaches for some meat and begins eating.  "How about we begin checking out the Lyon-Brette's place after morningfest?  I think its time to give our enemies another wake up call by letting our presence be known." Smirking, "If we are known, then we can simply wait for our enemies to come and we can blast them 
in the back alley."
	Smiling as far as his sore face will allow him, Biren groans at Kurt's suggestion. "Ahh maybe we can just stay away from them for at least another day. You know my body let alone my wardrobe probably can't handle it." Glancing at Shadowlark, Biren almost begins to laugh but the tight muscles of his battered body dont seem to let him.
	"I second that motion. A man's only given a limited number of ribs in his lifetime and I'm damn near my quota." A short pause, filled with the noise of eating, "So we all go through the front gate or what ? and do we come back here ? Not that I have complaints, but a change of location every night might even up the odds somewhat..."
	Kurt smiles as he sits back and looks at the team.  Turning to Jurgen and his questions, "Well, we walk in, straight through the front gate and for everyone to
see.  We are invited and expected.  Let us save the information of the map for if we need to sneak in under hidden circumstances.  As for relocating to another inn, that is a good idea.  It seems that I am hunted and due to association, so are the rest of you."
	Kurt then smiles as he takes a bite of an apple..."Funny huh?  We move in the open to be seen, yet we move to remain hidden at the same time.  Confusing enough for everyone?"  Kurt then chuckles a bit.  "If everyone is ready, shall we begin our investigation of the Lady's bedchamber?"
	Jurgen nods, squireling bits of food away for future snacking, then taping his belt pouch and purse to make sure they're there. "Ready."
	Finishing his breakfast Biren leaves the table to get ready... Coming out of his room, Biren enters into the common room with a flurry of motions. His purple cloak and purple hat contrast intently with the pure white shirt he is wearing and his dark black pants. Even his brown leather gloves and boots seem to be extremely clean compared to yesterday when they were covered in gods know what.
      "Um..." Jurgen eyes the fighter's guarb, then his own leathers (The same as he wore before with the addition of the black belt and gloves). "Well, I oiled my daggers. Think they'll notice ?"
	Stuffing down the last remnants of  breakfast, the Investigators become resolute in going into the Lyon-Brette citadel through the path of least resistance: the front gate.

	On the way over, Jurgen grunts suddenly. Turning to Kurt, "Say, what would it take to shield three people from the likes of Whorlin ? If those missing people are still in town and not halfway down the Great Chasm, that is." He scratches his temple thoughtfully, "Some pretty weird things or maybe an older location where those weird things have already been done...?"
	Kurt turns to Jurgen, "I am not sure of Whorlin's capabilities aside from being stronger than I... for now anyhow.  However, all it takes is someone of equal power in the Art or a very well hidden hide out.  Even if they are in town, Whorlin or anyone for that matter would be hard pressed in trying to find anyone without any clues to lead them."
	"Really ?", Jurgen looks slightly surprised, and dissapointed. "With all the witches and warlocks casting curses from leagues away in the stories, I figured you could track someone with a personnal belonging... bit like a dog." The man from Dongarten grins to himself on that last part.
	Turning to look straight ahead again, Kurt continues: "What I am wondering is which of the King's followers is going to be struck next.  I think if we come to a dead end with our investigation, that would be the next best step in catching whomever is doing the deeds.  I am also wondering if maybe the enemy is within the King's court to begin with.  I think I made a mistake about leaving the King's castle too soon.  However, we can always go back if need be.  Right now, I am hoping the Lady's bed chamber will unfold more answers and bring up less questions."
	"Any news from Shamus McKonnely ?"
	Kurt shakes his head in the negative.

	The Investigators reach the Citadel of Lyon-Brette. The tremendous structure fairly leaps from the surrounding scenery after a sudden turn out from a close-packed street of houses. The walls tower over thirty meters above the street level; The towers crest this by a story; armed guards walk the battlements in teams of three; and massive siege engines dot the rooftops. The main gate is thrown wide, no guard stands before its ten meters gap. The iron portcullis hanging above does not seem to have been dropped in a while. With a bit of trepidation, the group enters.
	The Great Parade Field lies empty before you but for a phalanx of soldiers on drill and those filling neatly to and from the entrance to the living areas of the citadel. Kurt leads the group to the Main Keep of the Fortress. These gates are both closed and guarded.
	A guard challenges them, and upon explanation, calls for the chatelaine of the Lyon-Brette family. The Investigators are received with warmth and gratitude, fed lunch, and taken to the chamber where the Lady was last seen. The Lady's Chamberlin resumes the situation: "I seen her lastly as she were retirin' for the night. A bit later, I heard the commotion from 'er room and returned to see her gone and the room in disarray. I called upon the guards who had it sealed as you see it here, awaiting your arrival." The chamberlin presents Kurt with the key to the seal on the door.
	As the seal is broken, the scene presents itself as follows: The chamber is a square eight meters on the side. A large four poster bed dominates it. There is one entrance, this door, and one exit, the window. The bed has been smashed as if by great force: its center collapsed.  The lady has 10 dressers, all fallen and scattered as if from a great battle. Blood, not in great quantity, is splattered on the walls. The floor to ceiling mirror is shattered, and a great battle-ax is stuck in the hardwood floor near the center of the room.
	The window is open, and the blood is still fresh, sealed by the wizard's spell.
	"By the horns of Abboth !" Jurgen stands at the entrance, rather stunned. "Not what I was expecting at all. How'd the fa -" A quick look at the chamberlin, "honorable lady manage this sort of thing ? She part weapon master on her mother's side ?" This last directed at the aforemention chamberlin.
	Chamberlin: "Er, yes Milord. she is a quite, er, formidable woman. She could wield that ax with a mighty arm." The ax in question is 5 feet long, the blade about 3 feet wide. It must weigh about 25 pounds.
	"Well, well. Teach me to make assumptions... Where'd she keep the thing ? Close to her bed ?"
	"Yes, Milord. Above by fact. On those hooks therein." The chamberlin points out two hooks within easy arms reach of Melisant's bed.

	Kurt silently eyes the scene of destruction and begins shaking his head..."This
scene looks all too familiar.  Okay let's do the numbers here..." With an after thought, Kurt holds up a hand, "Wait!  Let me check for any magic energies in the area in case of any spell traps." Kurt then begins chanting, "Energies of the spheres, energy of the weave show unto mine eyes!" Kurt then waves a hand over the room from one end to the other.

	Leaning over to Biren, "You the hack and slash expert here, this look like an actual fight to you ?" Jurgen gestures to the blood and the axe.
	Biren shrugs, "Dont deal with axes much but hell if the only thing in here with an axe mark is the floor I doubt it was an all out battle physically." Looking around, there are axe marks all over the place. Walls are gashed, dressers are gashed, the window pane is gashed...
	"...let's just remember that there's no better place to hide a tree than in a forest. Part of it might still be fake."  Jurgen cranes his neck, looking at all those marks, "and why so blasted many ? How long between the time you hear something and the one you saw this - What's your name anyway ?"
	"My name, good sir, is Charles. I could nay have heard if I had been wanting to. This room is proof of sound by a wizard's hand. The ringing of the chamberlin's bell caught my attention. It could nay have been more than a quarter hour."
	"Frantic ringing ?" asks Jurgen while actively ignoring the chamberlin's tone and looking for the bell cord at the same time. It takes some looking, but the bell cord turns out to be lying next to the bed, severed at 5.5 feet off the ground by something far sharper than the axe. "Tall fellow. Guess that explain the single ring... Um, Proof against sound... Proof against anything else ?"
	"No that I have been made aware of."
	"Um... Any other illegal activities reported that night ? Say, theft ?"
	"None Milord. I would hath been informed."

	Kurt finishes his spell, his eyes glowing blue for a brief second. He then looks to both Jurgen and Biren, "Good thinking. Okay, the room has no spell traps however, I think I have figured out how the Lady was stolen away from this height. Magic of course. There is a powerful sending circle in this room... Its a good chance the Lady was abducted with it. What puzzles me is that it takes time to create a good magical circle. I do not believe the assailant was working alone here."
	"Anyway of tracking that magic circle thing or what?" asks Biren.
	"And how much time are we talking about ?" adds Jurgen. "Maybe it was there from before ? Lots of strange things in these old places."
	Chamberlin: "You can be assured that this was not here. I doth have the rooms checked for magic from time to time."
	"If this is the work of the Ebon Hand, then I am at a loss." States Kurt. "The last time I dealt with him, he was after bodies for his experiments. The Ebon wizard did not claim to have any dealings concerning court. Times could change though. <Shrugging his shoulders> Who knows?"
	"I don't have the means to track where this sending circle leads...However, with time and with the right help, we may be able to activate the circle and let it take us to where it leads." Kurt turns to the chamberlan, "Is there a wizard in this city that can deal with working such magics?  If so, can you send for him immediately?"
	"The family employs a wizard of power. I shalt send for him." The chamberlin exits and returns almost immediatly, having passed the message along. 
	"Let us proceed with the investigation." Kurt glances at the axe, "By the way, that axe radiates strong magic for anyone insterested." He then begins searching under the bed and around the floor of the room.
	Biren glances at the axe, and looks up to Kurt "Its evidence, let's at least bag it." He moves into the room and examines the furniture looking for marks that shouldn't be there but apparently finds none.
	"Why would we want to lug that thing around ?" asks Jurgen. "Just check under it." 
	"Leave the axe." agrees Kurt. "It is of no use to us unless you know a very good Diviner to attempt to use it to track the Lady."
	Noding, Jurgen goes for the door, checking for any tampering with the lock or bar. To the Chamberlin, "You say this was open when you came, or just plain unlocked ?"
	"Locked Milord, I have but one of two keys. The lady keeps the other."
	"Oh. She usually leave it like that ?"
	"Always."
	Glancing at the mess Biren decides to check the bed. He checks underneath to ensure that nothing is missed.
	Turning to Jurgen, Kurt says, "Why don't you check out the window area. You made the contact with a supposed witness.  From the way things look, there are only two ways out of this room aside from the door. Magic or out the window."
	"Do you have to say 'supposed' every time ? Let's give a guy a little trust... Yes, I mean me." The leather-clad rogue rises from his squat at the door and carefully makes his way to a point where he has a clear view of the area where the lady would've stood... Nothing there beyond the wreckage of the fight. Though the axe itself is surrounded by an area free of wreckage, about the size of a large person.
	Jurgen lets out a muffled curse then shrugs, "Not my area anyway, Kurt'll handle it..." He makes his way around to the open window. 
	Several slash marks and more blood mark the casing. There are also the faint markings left by a climbing harness and a heavy climbing boot on the window ledge. "Got a bootmark here, friends." He produces a piece of parchment and proceeds to sketch a small replica of it in a corner. "Least we'll know we got the guy if we ever fall on his tracks. Had a friend once who got caught because he - uh. Say Kurt, could you toss me those boots we got off blackie ?" Looking down, "Right foot." The boot is tossed and Jurgen begins a point by point comparison.

	Shrugging with the way things seem to be going, Biren moves around the room, assisting in moving things around. Trying to determine the actual timing of the battle. "Jurgen, entry from the window or is that just suppose to seem that way?"
	Jurgen nods, not taking his eyes off what he's doing, "Definitely been forced from the outside, if you ask me..."
	"Ever know any of our grey friends to use climbing boots?"
	The brown-eyed man smirks, "Um, Didn't know we had friends in common. I gotta say I thought better of you, Biren." A quiet chuckle before returning to bussiness, "Climbing boots are blastedly rigid, no good for shadow work... unless you got a change. Known a couple of danglers who liked them though, not so bad on stone and they usually don't go deep."
	Jurgen smiles wide: dead match on the boot. "Blackie did it, folks... unless they're so poor they only have one pair of boots between them, of course." He tosses the boot back to Kurt.
	Kurt nods at Jurgen's discovery, "Nicely done."
	"Thanks."
	Laughing out loud, "Well it seems that there is more to your friend than attacking poor, defenseless mages." Biren smiles broadly to ensure that Kurt knows it's no insult (Kurt smiles at Biren's jest but his face quickly turns serious again...) "So it looks like your friend is up to it again...." glancing at Jurgen "How does the grey friends take jobs ?"
	Jurgen shrugs cloaked shoulders, "No idea. Could make inquiries in town, I suppose. What do you have in mind ?"
	Before Biren can answer, Kurt interjects, "Someone should check the roof of this tower. There may be more clues up there."
	After a quetionning look to Biren about his previous question and the answering  wave from the man, Jurgen says "Leave it to me. Attach." then plunges face first over the sill, twisting in mid-air and impacting the wall with his feet. "Was thinking of looking at the wall but I agree with you, pleasure first." Grinning, the muscular rogue tosses the unattached end of his rope upwards, gripping it in the prescribed way. "Attach. Detach." The lower end frees itself from the ledge as Jurgen works his way up... and up: call it about 120 meters ! It gives even the sure-footed rogue some pause but he reaches 
the top with little actual trouble. 
	'Good wind up here... Now this is the life.' From the roof, Jurgen can see most of the city. Beautiful towers loom up out of the mid-morning sun; steel glints from guard's weapons, and Jurgen can even see the market far below. 
	Jurgen examines the roof and below the overhang for any clues or leftover marks, even though he thinks the guy went down, not up... but some marks he does find: a couple of chipped rocks where a rope was attached. Whoever was here was quite good.  No, the lady did not come out this way by any means! but the attacker must have come from here... The tower is 60 meters above the connecting wall, far below. No other marks can be seen. The question might be, how did he get up here ?
	'The guy didn't fly-in else he'd have gone straight through the window... Will have to get Kurt up here to check for those circle things but maybe he just came up the stairs... or from the other side.' The rogue spreads his search to the entire surface of the roof.
	There are two boot prints in the center of it. Heavy ones, as if someone landed here and skidded, leaving black polish on the stones. This mark is very faint. No connection from roof to interior. The tower is free-standing. A door at the bottom and windows all the way up alternating from side to side. The tower is quite sheer and would be difficult to scale. "What the... um." After one last look, Jurgen starts making his way back down.

	Inside, Kurt looks hard to the chamberlain, "Tell me.  Was the Lady a warrior or a wizard of any potential?  Did she have anyone in here with her who could fight? Also, did anyone and I mean anyone see anything?  Even from outside?"
	"No, wizard, she was only a formidable lady and hath a natural talent fer the axe. She slept alone, I alone could enter her chamber. I know not of anyone who could have seen in, the height of the tower such that it is. None of us saw a thing before I arrived."
	Turning towards the chamberlin, Biren asks "Exactly how much did the lady weigh?"  
	"Uh, Many stone Mi'lord. I would not know for sure."
	Kurt turns back to the room, "We may have a chance here if we can figure out this circle." Kurt then bends to the task of studying the circle to see if he can figure out how to activate and control it.
	Biren continues to look around the room under dressers and beds. He also studies the axe, looking for blood and hairs or even pieces of cloth near or attached to it. Hoping that the lady had got the best of her assailant. 
	There is indeed blood on the axe blade. Biren can't see most of it (it is imbedded in the floor), but obviously somebody got pretty badly nailed by this thing. "Kurt, what about bodies being invisible, it seems that this axe has gotten the best of someone."
	Kurt scans the room as his Art melds with his body, "Nothing Jurgen. Nothing but a magical circle.  No spell traps, no tell tale black or white magics, nothing."

	Jurgen drops down in front of the window, the rope creaking gently. "Uh ?" He swings to face Kurt. "Did I say something ?"
	Kurt blinks his eyes a couple of times and focuses his thoughts once more, "Eh?  Oh my mistake.  I meant to speak to Biren.  My mind was preoccupied with melding with my Art." 
	"Don't suppose I can help any... Guessed so. Say Charles, what was the weather like on the night it all happened ?"
	"The weather good sir? Most excellent. A clear and beautious night."
	"Hell, would've prefered mist... Anyone spot anything afterwards ? I'm assuming you had the guards comb the surroundings, right ?"
	"Nay a thing. It be as if they just disappeared."
	"Still, I don't supposse they'd look up..." To the others, "You were right Kurt, seems like our boy dropped in on the roof and made his way down. Came off something that could make it to the roof but not the window; flying beast of some kind, I would think."
	"Going to check the bottom then I'll be back." Marking the emplacement of the axe in his mind, Jurgen turns himself around and tries to spot a possible point for his witness to see what he saw... The market-place seems the best bet: with the window broken, the watcher would have had a perfect view into the windows... however, the watcher would have had to have been on the walls of the market place (a spot usually reserved for guards). hmmm.
	He then rappels down, checking every few meters for signs of passage. But the marks stop at the window and there are none lower. No ground marks either, nothing around here for at least 30 meters. The tower stands alone as do all of the nobleman's towers of the household. 'Sileus you...'
	Climbing back up, Jurgen steps into the room once more, "Looks like Blackie did fly down or he was more discreet in his exit: no traces of him down there. Maybe he used a ring of flight or something." 
	He takes a deep breath and draws himself up, "I believe knowing the kidnapper's exact capabilities would be a great asset to this investigation. I therefore propose we get all his gear examined by a magical expert as soon as possible." The glimmer of teeth can be seen as he adds, "At the King's expense, of course... Any objections ?"
	Kurt who is still studying the sending circle mutters without looking up, "No objections here. Let us see what the house mage has to say. Perhaps he can better
divine the assassin's gear. If not, we can send for one if there is one to send for."
	"Must be, in a city this big... Anything happen while I hung out ?"
	Again Kurt answers without taking his eyes off the circle, "Nothing new. I am still waiting on the house ma..." Just then, the house mage enters at last. The magi is a tall, lanky man in his early 20's. He has curly black hair and a full, not well kept, beard. He has dark eyes and stands about 6 feet 2 inches tall. He is dressed in earth-brown robes adorned with feathers and bead jewerly. He is not rushing in any way and seems to be possessed by an ancient dignity. He speaks to Kurt, "Greetings. I am Tomelous Argent Belfast, magi. What need of me do you have?"
	Kurt stands and nods to Tomelous, "Well met Tomelous.  I am Kurt of Dorken Tower and Investigator to this abduction.  What I need is your assistance in studying a sending circle and hopefully helping figure out how to make it work. You will need to cast magic detection in order to see the circle.  If you will, let us begin to work." 
	Before they do, Kurt addresses the others, "Can someone check out the rooms adjacent to this one? Although there is no wall damage, mayhap the assassin made use of the other rooms as well."
	Biren turns to the group "I'll go check the other rooms all..."  then moving quietly to Jurgen "All I need is two guys casting enough magic to turn me into a frog around." with that Biren moves to examine the adjoining rooms.
	The rogue casts a sidelong glance at the magical twosome, "Think I'll come with you, Biren. Just to be safe." Jurgen grin and waves to Kurt. On his way out, he can be heard to murmur, "In through the door, out the window. In through the window out through the door... There's the making of a dirty joke in there somewhere..."
	Biren and Jurgen move out into the corridor. The spiral stairs come up the 
center of the tower. The Lady's room is one of three on this floor. The first room, as entered, turns out to be a servant's quarters, small and tidy. It contains a spare looking bed, dresser, and a few personal articles. The room was probablly lived in recently and it abuts the wall in the Lady's bedroom that the bed is against.
	Jurgen checks the door and window for tampering, "Not that I expect much after a week in HERE: an efficient housemaid is the thief's best ally, I always say... That whole circle thing's got me puzzled though. Where did this second guy come from ? You spot more than two weapon marks in that room, Biren ? (Axe and whatever cut that bellcord)"
	Biren notes that there are only two weapon marks. He is pretty sure that the weapon that cut the bellcord was a dagger.
	"So that last guy didn't fight... suppossing he exists at all."
	The room on the other side seems to be the noblewoman's personal storage area. There are hundreds of dresses, shoes, lady's weapons, and various memento's. The room is dusty, musty, and moldy. Not used too awful much. The one thing of interest is a full, life-sized, portrait of the lady... or it would have to be, considering the size.
	She is dressed in a valkrie's scanty plate armor, her huge chest making mountain peaks look distressed. She has waist-length red hair and sparkling blue eyes. The painter spared no points of honor in painting this. It is quite likely the way she really looks... At the very least, it's an imposing sight.
	Jurgen looks up at the painting, apparently impressed, "Her husband's got courage, got to give him that..." Shaking his head in awe, he bends down and examines the dust for boot marks. He only finds his own, freshly made, boot marks. This chamber has been undisturbed for at least a week. 
	"Nothing." he says to Biren. "Not that I can see any reason for him (or them) to use this place... Back to the start ?" he nods towards the lady's room.
	The two return to the bedchamber where the magi are still deep in concentration... "I see the circle perfectly fine. It is a unidirectional sending, laid there by a spell cast from an object... note how it is so intricately detailed in its warding. A being could not draw that in a moment."
	Kurt nods at Argent's assesement, then bends back down to further study this circle. He is pretty sure he knows the sending location: "Varitheim". Whatever that is. It does not ring any bells.
	Noting a small break in the studying, Jurgen steps forward. "You seem to know your way around magical stuff, Argent. Think you could help us figure out what the kinapper's things are used for ? Would help us quite a bit... Name's Jurgen, by the way, Jurgen Closterwitch." He extends a large hand in greeting.
	The magi looks at Jurgen's hand as if it contained the worst of diseases. 
The wizard even shies away a bit as the rogue thrusts his hand out. "Leave magical matters to the magical. Your magi can do an apprentice's trick, I'm sure." Argent proceedes to ignore Jurgen... studying the circle with Kurt.
	The young Closterwitch scowls at the magi's back, fingers twitching, "Not sure you quite understand your position, friend: we're the High King's Investigators on an official mission. You want to do the snooty idiot routine, you do it on your own time, understand ?" 
	With the magi snubbing Jurgen, Biren steps in acting much like a spoiled noble.  "My fine sir, I am sorry that you believe that not only is the crown's business not your affair (especially since you are being taken away from your own precious time), but you also are hindering our quest to help the lady you are assigned to. It seems to me that if you are hindering the investigation then you are part of the problem. I would hope you will reconsider my associates request before it must be presented in a more formal manner.
	Pausing just long enough to see the magi's reaction "As to having an apprentice deal with this, that would not be a problem in normal circumstances but in this case not only do we need information about the items we need to be able to tell a little more. If you are incapable of this than thats fine, I will personally recommend to the family of our dearly departed lady that she finds herself a magi that is more helpful to her would-be rescuers." Huffing Biren turns away from the magi completely ignoring him for a time. 
	Jurgen nods in several places of Biren's speech, his square jaw still clenched. When he finishes, the sturdy thief claps him on the back and simply says, "Wordy as ever, Biren, but you got my thanks for dealing with him since he's put himself beneath me." Jurgen's cloak swirls behind him as he tries to pass his temper on something that is less - bloody. Spotting the axe, he walks over and proceeds to rip it from the floor. 
	'Who does this guy think he is ? I've never even met him. Though, come to think of it, I HAVE heard of Tomelous before. He was a famous hero of ancient lore... put down an ancient uprising of lizard kings or something like that. Still, nothing to do with me.' Jurgen, blood up and adrenalin flowing, grips ahold of the huge axe with both hands and pulls mightily... only to come quite close to giving himself a hernia. Slightly embarassed, he tries it again... the thing doesn't even budge.
	"Perfect, just perfect." Jurgen looks up to see if the ceiling has decided to cave-in on his head, just to make his day complete... But the ceiling stays where it is. "<sigh> Still have some Gods on my side, looks like." In a controled voice, "Biren, would you be so kind as to help me get this... axe out of the floor ?"
	Just as Jurgen finishes his grunting, the chamberlin steps in. "Milord, the command to release the axe is, 'Venrith'" 
	At the sound of the command word, the axe shudders a bit. Jurgen lifts the huge piece out of the ground, quite easily, with one hand. The axe seems to only weight ounces in the rogue's grip. Blood coats the bit of the axe and several splinters are stuck along the edge. "We have blood and splinters, that useful to anybody ? Thought not... Though I seem to remember a recently repaired gash in Blackie's armor. Definitely our man." Jurgen props the axe against a nearby dresser before kneeling down and poking into the gash with a climbing dagger. "Me and Biren are about finished here, Kurt, signal when you're done."

	With his back still turned to the magic users, Biren moves to more thoroughly examine the calling cord cut. Drawing the assassins dagger Biren attempts to reproduce the inital cut of the draw string. The cut would be easy if one was the height of the black assassin. This particular dagger would have easily done the deed.
	As Biren is working with the dagger, he comes upon the maker's mark pressed into the hilt. Stonehelm Forge, a dwarven maker of fine weapons and armors, it's located outside of the city of Hanke itself near the textile mill on the river. The dwarf has an excellent reputation for his cooperation (aka: ratting out) in the apprehension of those who use his weapons in cold-blooded murder or other heinous captial crimes. Many will not buy his wares for that reason alone.
	Jurgen's face brightens and he seems to be about to say something... then, with a disgusted look at Argent, he signal "later".
	Having screened the room for every possible motive, means, and machination for the kidnapping to have occurred, the Investigators depart the scene to the best place to figure out what happened.
	Later, at the Greenlight Bar and Dance house, they meet to discuss what they have discovered. Kurt looks to the team as he signals for a barmaid.  "Well, what have you two found?  I have figured out where the sending circle goes but I cannot trigger it. If we are to go to where the circle's destination, we have to ride. The destination is..." Kurt then stops as he spots a messenger boy approaching. They seem to be able to find anyone, anywhere. The missive he passses to Kurt is a message from the King with recommendations from Shamus McConnely :

	Be it known that We, in Our Infinite Wisdom, have chosen to lend assistance 
	to your campaign through the personage of The Esteemed Watcher of Helm, 
	Deyrn. She will be assisting you in the detection of the kidnappers. You 
	should meet her at your earliest convenience at the Temple of Helm in 
	Hanke.

	Appropriate signatures and seals are attached. Kurt smirks a bit as he reads the missive. "And here I thought that only Knights were conceited.  It seems we have a new team member that we have to meet up with."  Kurt then shows the note to both Jurgen and Biren.
	"Um, no word on Jytamil... Though it hasn't been that long. What - three days ? He's got a ways to go before recovery, I guess." He taps the parchment over Deyrn's name, "Still, this ones seems to have a personnal stake in the game, friend of one of the missing no less, nice to know they've given up on the 'throwing darts out of windows' system." Jurgen beams a friendly grin Biren's way before continuing. "I say we go get the new recruit and maybe re-settle our chat at the temple proper. Saves us the trouble of saying things twice and I get to enter a temple by the front door, a rarity. Agreed ?"
	Looking for Shadowlark, Biren smiles back "The dart at least smelt a little better than  what Shadowlark dumped on me. So shall we go met our new friend ? I hope they aren't too preachy. Oh yes and the dagger" looking to Jurgen "Shall we pay a visit to our friendly neighborhood weaponsmith, you do the talking I'll be the tough, probably need some time to work on my walk though." 
	Jurgen squints down at Biren's legs, "What's wrong with your walk ? Though if it's the smithy I think, you're quite right. It's a good three miles out of town, you know." Jurgen rises, settling his armor in a more confortable position (away from his bruises). "Better off leaving it for after the general meeting. Um Funny coincidence, but the paper mill right next to it is owned by our good friend Melesant. Imagine that..."
	Smiling Biren finishes whats in front of him before rising to go to the temples. "Shall we be off?."
	Shadowlark decides that his skills could be better put to use researching the Mechanics of the summoning circle. He volunteers to make his way to the Great library in the temple of Oghma and takes his leave.

	The meeting at the tavern quickly disburses as the investigators make their way to the temple of Helm in Hanke. They reach the building after winding the streets of the fortress city for half of an hour. The temple is an imposing edifice with a lookout tower reaching far above every other building in town. Heavily armored priests guard the doors and the ramparts.
	Kurt states the group's business and they are allowed to enter the temple. The guards eye the likes of Jurgen and Biren warily. They let you pass, however, and Jurgen can enter a temple from the front door for once. The investigators are directed to a private sanctuary. 
	Inside, an armored figure kneels before a small altar, mumbling prayers to the gauntlet and eye of helm. As you enter, she turns and rises, a stunning figure in fluted and decorated field plate armor. She stands 5’8’’ and cannot weigh more than a feather, although the ease of her stance would suggest more.
	The woman raises her eyebrows in mild surprise. She holds an open-faced helm in her gauntleted hands. She shifts it to her left hand, tucked against her side. The breastplate of her very highly polished armor boasts an elaborate rendering of Helm's symbol. The pupil in the symbol the same dark blue as the woman's eyes. She takes a step toward the men. "You're the ones searching for the missing nobles?" the armored woman asks, her tone more of a statement than a question.
	Kurt steps up and stares at the women slowly. Placing his arms to cross inside the folds of his sleeve, he then looks around the temple. As his eyes fall back on the woman, "Not so much searching for the missing nobles but searching for their abductor.  It is fruitless to say we are searching for nobles that may already be dead and their bodies destroyed."
	The woman's eyes narrow with clear disapproval at the assumption the nobles are dead.
	Kurt watches and nods, "Ah, from your expression you did not like something I had said. That is good. That means you have a heart somewhere. Do not let that interfere with our investigation."

	With Kurt rambling on about nothing that is extremely important Biren takes the time to study the new member of the small band.  She seems a little over dressed and this temple training is going to have to be lost, but biren is sure she'll fit in.
	Jurgen tilts his head closer to Biren and whispers, "Kurt's got a pompous streak in him, don't he ? Must be the surroundings." He eyes the sanctuary, idly evaluating the worth of various trinkets. "Pretty soon, you and me'll be spouting 'words of wisdom' and addressing each other as His Exalted something or other." grins the rogue.
	"Yes, it certainly seems so," replies the woman with a ghost of a smile.
	As Biren laughs, Kurt takes a sidelong glance to Jurgen. With an inward grin and a slight chuckle, he thinks to himself "Dammit Jurgen, you effectively killed my serious routine. Now I have to work on it on someone else."
	The man from Dongarten grips his rope at the shoulder and sighs deeply, "Everyone's got ears like rabbits nowadays... No privacy at all."

	Kurt eyes both Jurgen and Biren into silence, then faces the woman, "I am Maghor, my associates are Kren and Justin. We are the investigators to this case.  From our orders, you are to join our team. If so, what is your name and are you ready to leave?"  Kurt then watches the woman carefully.
	The woman shrugged slightly, an almost invisible gesture in her armor. "Apparently you are looking for someone else. Yours are not the names I was given.  Have you some papers?  I'll be happy to escort you to the high priest. Perhaps he can straighten this out." The woman's tone and body language made it clear the men would not be allowed to wander unescorted.
	Kurt grins at the sudden invitation to leave, "Good then, it is apparent you were expecting us though I have given false names. I am Kurt and my teammates are as you were told. Forgive the false introductions earlier.  I had to ensure it is you we were sent to meet since we were not given a name or identification aside from your faith. Though I understand this temple should say all, I find that the workings of faith is something I have yet to fully trust.  Bear no ill will mind you...It is only my thoughts. Now, do you have a name or shall we forever address you as woman? Also, what exactly do you know of our mission ?"
	"We're not going to do all that here are we ?" interjects Jurgen. "We were sitting over lunch when your message arrived." he explains to the armored woman. "Thought we could settle someplace quiet and discuss it over bread... Name's Jurgen, by the way. As you could no doubt tell from Kurt's extensive and very flattering introduction." A pointed look floats the magi's way as Jurgen walks over to the woman and extends a hand. 'If she refuses it, I'll just HAVE to get a souvenir or my poor ego will never recover.'
	"Those are two of the names I was given," says the woman with a nod.  She
looks over at the third man. "And you are Biren?"
	Biren bows to the metal clad women, "You're right my lady, Biren D'Orcit is the name, pleasure to meet Deryn".
	She extends her gauntlested hand to Jurgen, keeping her grip loose so as not to inadvertantly harm him. "I'm Deryn. I was under the impression the letter you were sent gave my name."
	Jurgen blinks a few times until he figures it out, "Seems a certain scribe just earned himself a few wacks for negligence. He told us to expect a 'Deyrn'." 
	"I'm happy the letter got my sex right," Deryn sighs.  "For some reason, those in charge keep thinking I'm a man.  I guess it's the vestments."
	"Um." Jurgen looks her over. She has very dark hair. It looks to be somewhat long, but it's hard to tell what she really looks like under all that armor. "Have some curves put in. That'll give you something to talk with the Lyon-Brette woman. From her portrait, she seems to have mastered the technique."
	"I don't think Helm considers that particularly important," Deryn replies with a faint smile.
	"Shame..." Grinning once more, "You realize, of course, that the name mixup means you're an evil impostor... But I'm too hungry to smite you just yet, so let's agree to discuss it after lunch. Right Kurt ?"
	Kurt smiles and shakes his head, "Yes Jurgen, were not going to do all that here. I simply wish to know what she was told about our investigation. The finer details can be discussed over our completed lunch."
	"I don't have many details," says Deryn. "And I'd as soon hear the complete story from you, to ensure my full understanding. There's an inn nearby that serves a decent lunch. If you'll give me a moment, I'll change into something more appropriate for that venue and we can talk." She motions for an acolyte.  "Please assist these gentlemen.  You have mounts?" she asks them.  
	Indeed they do so she directs the acolyte to help them get their horses to the temple stables. "And please ask someone to help me with my armor," she says to the acolyte. She speaks quite politely to the acolyte, finishing with a friendly smile. She walks away with the clanging of metal so dear to the hearts of Helmites.
	Once alone, Jurgen starts examining things from up close, poking at walls and looking under items, "Can't say I'm not relieved. I thought she was going to follow us around wearing that thing. Not exactly subtle, is it ? So Kurt, you satisfied she's the one ?"

	After a short while in her dressing room, Deryn re-appears to meet the men. She is now dressed more of the temptress than the stainless-steel mountain. Skin-tight leather breechs, a low cut blouse, ample cleavage with a pendant of helm pointing appropriately downwards, and long, flowing dark hair complete the ensemble. She is well-tanned for someone who spends so much time in armor.  The rest of her is as pretty as her face; what her armor concealed being pretty much revealed by her current outfit. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Deryn says with an apologetic smile. "My vestments really aren't the best thing to wear to lunch."
	A bit of silence falls as the audible 'click' of Jurgen's jaw being closed is heard to echo across the chamber. "Uhum... Guess we know who to send to distract the guards..."
	Kurt eyes Deryn in a different light now that her armor has been removed. Also remembering to promptly shut his own mouth, Kurt then reminds his eyes to look away from Deryn's ample cleavage and to continue to look away. "Ahem, yes... Let us head to this inn you speak of Deryn."
	Biren grins cheek to cheek. Deryn, it seems, does know how to dress.  Giving Kurt a little shove "Close your mouth lets go.."  then nodding to Deryn "Shall you lead the way ?"
	"If you'll please follow me?" Deryn leads the men to a nearby inn, rather nicer
than average. (Kurt follows behind Deryn staring... No, studying the rest of her personality. Again, Kurt remembers to remind his eyes to quit studying too hard.) "The house ale is really quite good," she suggests, ordering a mug for herself, favoring the serving wench with a disarmingly friendly smile. With the horses stabled by the temple, the foursome order lunch... waited upon by a very jealous looking tavern wench.
	Smiling, Biren moves with the lady "My what a rose lay behind the metal thorn you were wearing before. Much better, and I hope you are right about the wine."  With a grin Biren moves to sit beside the Deryn. Biren is very quiet it seems during lunch.  He seems to be distract elsewhere from the conversation.  He searches the room and looks at both Deryn and the barmaid whenever they interact.  Drinking his ale, and eating his small lunch he begans to listen intently to the conversation adding his two cents where he can.
	Jurgen piles his interior with a fair amount of food before getting down to business. "So we know Blackie did it, what with his boot print and the slash in his armor." Aside to Deryn, "Blackie's a Grey Assassin we put to rest yesterday. Nearly did us in in the process, bastard." Back to the group, "Came in from the roof. Dropped with some speed from a flying *something* and made his way to the window with a climbing harness. Big battle with the fat lady, poofs her with the circle and then makes his way down to Gods know where. That's that for the generalities..." He waits to see if there are any questions. As there are none, he continues, "You say you know where that circle goes, Kurt ?"
	Also eating his fare share of food although not as much as Jurgen, Kurt sits back and listens as Jurgen brief's Deryn of what the team has already learned. "Let me add on to what Jurgen has already said. I have learned from my study on the magic circle where the circle's final destination is located. It is located in Varitheim. Unfortunately, I have never heard of such a place. Any ideas?" Kurt then looks to both Biren and Jurgen, then to Deryn where his eyes stay... before reminding them to turn away again.
	"That's all we know about this place, its name ?" Jurgen scratches his chin, tasting the word, "Varitheim, vari-theim, theim. Nah, never heard of it either. Shadowlark'll find it if it's on a map, I hear Oghma is well furnished in that department. Um Say, Kurt, you never did tell us exactly how much time a guy'd need to make that circle. We talking hours here or what ? It IS the only thing that would suggest a second doer or an inside job."
	"The circle? It would have been left behind by the item that probably transported them away. Only the most powerful magi could put together a circle that fast... and even then it would not be safe."
	"Ah. So a magic item helper instead of a man helper. Simplifies things." Jurgen trails off as Kurt is once more busy studying human anatomy.
	Deryn gives no indication that any overly-lengthy studies of her "personality" bothers her.  She seems to not even notice it.  She orders a light lunch and drinks only one mug of ale. Out of her armor, she is fairly small.  The shape of her legs and what's visible of her arms indicate that she's probably fairly strong.  "When shall we depart?" she asks.  "Now, or in the morning?"
	At hearing Deryn's question, Kurt's mind quickly takes hold of him and he focuses on the more important things to study, "After our meal I believe we are to search out a certain blacksmith. Am I correct on this Jurgen?  Biren?  Once we deal with that, we still need to find out what or where Varitheim."
	"Yeah, Biren found a maker's mark on Blackie's dagger. He tells me this guy's a local and a strong believer in the continued purity of his wares to boot, looks poorly on blood-leters apparently... Biren would tell you this himself, of course, but he seems busy composing a love sonnet in his head or something." 
	With the mention of the blacksmith Biren simply nods "Yes, the blacksmith may be able to push us in some direction."
	Jurgen casts a sidelong glance at the colorful warrior, smiles and continues, "Location's interresting too: right next to the main textile plant of the Melesant family. Now if we could link something flying to that place... You a local as well, Deryn, what's Hanke got in terms of air transport ?"
	"Not really," Deryn says. "I'm from Tsurlagol.  But to answer your question," she continues, "not a whole lot for hire.  There's a Griphen family that flies griffins, but not for transport.  The Dragon Spine Mountains aren't far to the west of the city, so keeping an eye out overhead is wise.  And there are a fair number of mages and priests who have flying magic.  Rings of flight are somewhat common. Still," she concludes, "I don't know of anywhere you can, say, rent a flying barge."
	As everyone is firming up their plans and putting out information for the upcoming problems, a strange entrance is made. The raven, jibbering and jabbering at the top of his lungs, follows a startled patron into the bar. He is ruffled and bloody, a large cut along his body, not to mention quite excited. He lands, unsteadily, on Kurt's shoulder. "Wrraaa! Black man come! Comest as we's looks at books! Him takes shedowlook and goesin cirle-glow! Cuttsin mes goood! Owwra!" 


CHAPTER 6 - Missing in action

	The raven lands, unsteadily, on Kurt's shoulder. "Wrraaa! Black man come! Comest as we's looks at books! Him takes shedowlook and goesin cirle-glow! Cuttsin mes goood! Owwra!" The shook bird continues to dance, and bleed, on Kurt's shoulder.
	Jurgen surges to his feet, "Death and pestilence ! Shouldn't have let him wander alone ! Kurt, can you force that thing open so we can follow ? Be quiet, Bird !" The rogue plucks Raven from Kurt's shoulder, headlocks him, pops the cork of a potion vial with his other hand and pours it down the avian's beak. "No time for any silliness."
	"Grugle!!! PHOOOEY!! Nasties stuffses!" The raven looks considerablly more healthy, less blood flowing now.
	Kurt looks on with alarm at the sudden entrance of Raven.  "Be still Raven and let Jurgen lend you some aid." Kurt then looks to Jurgen, "I have not been able to trigger the circle. However, maybe with the recent opening, I may be able to learn more."  
	Kurt then looks to Raven, "Raven, you said you and Shadowlark were looking at books... Do you mean that another sending circle is in or near the temple of Oghma?  If so, can you lead me to it?"

	Deryn watches the antics with the bird with curiosity. "An informant?" she asks with a slight smile. "We seem to be in a hurry.  I'd best go put on my armor." She repeats her offer to see about housing the men at the temple.  "I won't be long.  Shall I meet you here, or some place else?"
	Kurt turns to Deryn before heading out, "Raven is more than an informant, he is a friend. As for your armor, hold on a second and let me verify if another sending
cirlce is near the Temple of Oghma or if its the same circle in the Lady's chambers." 
Kurt then anxiously awaits Ravens response.
	"Ins his rooms we weres. Went temple, gots books, wents to read, got attattaked!"
	"He went back to the Fair Weather Soldier !?" Exclaims Jurgen. "Damn fool. Damn, damn fool."
	With a quick shrug Biren turns to Deryn "Do you have anything that can heal our Raven here?" pausing just long enough to give a simple smile he turns to Jurgen, "I'll ready the horses, we will need to ride." Biren moves outside to ready the horses. He tips the stable boy who rushes to ready the beasts, and then waits out front for the rest of the crew.
	"Right behind you, Biren." Jurgen runs after him.

	"Yeah," Deryn says slowly to Biren.  She looks over at Kurt.  "Do you want me to?"  The bird had come to give a warning, surely an act worthy of a little intervention from Helm.
	Kurt looks to Raven then to Deryn, "No, save your faith Deryn.  Raven has already taken some healing potion and the rest of his injuries, I am sure Raven can deal with himself.  Raven you see has a lot of connections in this world.  Plus, we may be heading to a battle soon so we may need your prayers then." 
	Kurt follows Biren and Jurgen, ensuring to take Raven with him. "Come on Raven, I know you are better, but you are not yet whole. Ride with me and give us directions from my shoulder." The Raven, feeling much better now, hops up onto Kurt's shoulder to begin the trip back to the old inn.
	Deryn is torn between getting her armor and again becoming the Watcher of Helm in appearance, or following quickly to the scene of a crime... in a not-too-appropriate outfit. Deryn knows the way to the inn, it being a quite popular one.
	
	Realizing that by the time Biren had the horses, she could be ready to go and if she didn't do it now, they'd all have to wait, Deryn catches up to the others and says, "I've got to get my armor and horse. I know the way to the inn. Biren and I will meet you there."
	"Got it." yells Jurgen as he and the crimson mage jump on their horse's and ride off at full speed.
	Deryn grabs a couple of acolytes when she enters the temple. One she instructs to assist Biren, the other to find a friend and meet her in her quarters. There, she has whichever is most competent with it help her get into her armor.  The other is sent to deliver a goodbye message to whomever Deryn has been spending time with during her stay in Hanke and then to make sure Balin was ready to go. After armoring, she presses the acolyte into service once more to help her carry her packs to the stables.  Deryn makes a mental note to send a letter to the high priest of the temple commending the acolytes. She has very fond memories of her own time as an acolyte in the temple at Tsurlagol.

	Kurt and Jurgen ride hard across the city in pursuit of what they hope is a fresh trail. They ride up to the inn like the riders of the Apocalypse, scattering beggars and patrons in their path. Only briefly tying their horses, they pound through the common room and up the stairs. The door Raven points out as being Shadowlark's is quickly opened, and a strange scene awaits.
	The room is in perfect order, not surprising for the meticulous Shadowlark. The table has several stacks of books on magical travel and secret societies. Shadowlark's weapons are leaning against the table. Nothing seems disturbed except for his chair which has been shattered.
	On the wall is a faintly glowing, elaborate, summoning circle. It is the twin of the one found in the Lady Lyon-Brette's bedchamber. Near it, on the floor, conspicuous in the clean room, is a broken onyx stick. The light from the circle is slowly fading. It is obvious the gate is closed, but the power of the gate must have been phenomenal to keep a reaction for this long.
	Jurgen nods to the circle, "You deel with it, Kurt, I'll handle the rest." 
	Kurt nods his head in silence as he is already on the move. Quickly moving towards the circle, Kurt scoops up the broken onyx stick and studies it then the circle, "If my theory is correct, then this stick may be the item of power used to open create this circle." Kurt says to no on in particular.
	Meanwhile, the leather-clad rogue quickly sweeps up up Shadowlark's staff and books (Five of them : three on magical travel, one on noble lineages and one on History.) in anticipation of a fast departure. At the same time, a near continuous barrage of questions are fired Raven's way. "Bird, this the same Orcus spawn that attacked us in the alley or one of his fellows ?"
	"Sames! Big blackie, fast fast fast..."
	"Damn High Priests, can't get rid of anybody with them around. How long after you settled in here did he strike ?"
	The bird looks at Jurgen quizzically, "Not know. Time."
	"Rrrrr. If you'd started to eat as soon as you entered - I don't know - a dish like you had yesterday (the rotten deer) would you have finished your bowl when Blackie came ? Be on your third serving or what ?"
	"Many dishes... could have hads good fly."
	"Um, either the magic takes a long time or Blackie just got lucky. Where'd he come from ? Door, window ?" He bends down to examine the wreckage of the chair.
	"Outs of Wall... there." He indicates the summoning circle.
	"Why in Hades didn't they do this at the Lyon-Brette's ?" Jurgen stares hard at the spot on the wall, not too pleased. "Damn blasted jack of all trades, can't make up their minds... He say anything or do something peculiar ?"
	"Nots remembering... busy bleeding."
	"Uh." Jurgen casts a sidelong glance at the black bird, eyes narrowed. "Not going to keel over now, are you ?" He gestures bruskly to his shoulder, offering a perch.
	The bird hops onto Jurgen's shoulder. They both stand still together, seemingly for the first time since this began, looking on Kurt and his magic. Jurgen holds Shadowlark's staff in his right hand, his grip much tighter than strictly necessary, grinding his teeth.
	After a quick study of the onyx stick and the circle, Kurt swears, "Damn these guys are good! Such powerful magics are at work here.  Kurt then turns silent as he focues on his studies on trying to make the circle work with the onyx stick in his hand. 
	After a while longer, Kurt sighs outwardly and turns to face Jurgen, "Again, aside from the destination, I cannot activate the circle.  I do know one more thing though... The source of this circle is from a Gate spell.  The wizard creating this circle uses items such as this," Kurt holds up the onyx stick "to activate the spell rather instantaneous."
	Kurt then walks where Jurgen is, "The good news is that I do know someone who can help us on this. A wizard of great power, the creator of my staff here, and a good friend. Now we have two objectives. One, we can see the dwarven smithy, then two, we head to see my old friend."
	Kurt then looks around, "Now what is taking Biren and Deryn so long?"

	Waiting patiently and impatiently all at the same time Biren tries to keep himself busy checking Archibald's saddle and straps. By the time Deryn returns, Biren is waiting to help her into the saddle.  Smiling only slightly, offering a hand "Shall we go my lady?".  
	"I'd keep your hands away from Balin were I you," Deryn comments. She is once more wearing her shiny, jingling field plate. She also has on a large wraparound black cloak with Helm's symbol emroideried on the back in white and blue (The background of the cloak makes her armor seem all the more brilliant).  She carries an open-faced helm in her hand and slips it on as she continues, "He's been known to bite strangers."  Her horse is a rather large fellow with a black coat that certainly goes well with Deryn's armor. In fact, the saddle and saddle bags are dyed a matching black as well, leading one to the conclusion that the effect was calculated.  
	She checks one last time to make sure everything is packed and secure, including a rather formidable-looking maul and murmurs a few words to the acolyte, who smile in response. Deryn looks at Biren's outstretched hand with mild amusement and says, "Thank you, but I'm fine." She pulls herself into the saddle easily. "If for some reason I fall, I'd squish you," she says with a grin. She follows Biren back to the others.
	Nodding to Deryn, Biren moves away from her horse mounting up on Archibald, he turns to her before they go to leave, looking very serious probably for the first time since Deryn has meet him he whispers "Deryn you don't always have to be so strong, friends are there when you can't be....." almost with a sigh Biren spurs Archibald into action before he can hear any kind of remark from Deryn.
	Deryn shrugs.  "Unclear on the concept," she mutters to herself.  She makes a clicking sound and Balin starts off.  She does not wear spurs, controlling the horse with her voice and minimal movement of the reins or her knees. Balin appears to be rather well-trained.
	Riding all out to the inn, Biren almost leaps off the horse before Archibald had stopped, tying him off he enters the common room, cloak floating behind him.  Not giving a second look to any of the occupants of the main room, Biren moves to Shadowlark's room.
	"Took you long enough." Beneath the rough greeting, Jurgen appears genuinely releived they've made it. "No go on the opening but Kurt wants to see a man about a circle. I suggest the bookish types go do that and find out where this Varitheim thing is while me and Biren look on the weaponsmith and the paper mill, agreed ? Oh." The dark clad thief wears his sourest expression. "Lest we forget: no going anywhere on your own and absolutely no wandering to places where they might be waiting for you either... Blasted idiot." he shakes his head, angry and sad at the same time. (Biren tries to smile but just a slight frown shows up.)  
	"Am I to assume you consider me the 'bookish type'?" Deryn asks, apparently vastly amused by the idea. "Would you be willing to put that in writing?" Nonetheless, she seems more than willing to accompany Kurt on his quest for information.
	"Well, I'm sure you have a Book of Helmishness or something. My visits to librairies usually involve clubbing me over the head first... As for putting it in writting-" He stops, pauses, then smiles a crooked, mirthless smile. "Time for that later." He frowns suddenly, "Say, just how far is this friend of yours, Kurt ? Doesn't he need to see the thing ?"
	Kurt who was lost in thought focuses on Jurgen's words and his plans, "Hold on Jurgen. The team will go see the smithy first so both you and Biren can do what it is you plan on doing. Once we are done there, we can head to Behemoth where my friend is. That journey is about four to five days by horse, one day by flight." Kurt then looks to the group, "Shall we head to the smithy?"  Kurt then heads out to get to his horse.
	Jurgen waves a restraining hand, "Wait, wait, wait. You want to leave Hanke for something like ten days ? Without  checking leatherworkers, arial mounts, that paper mill or even simply finding out where Varitheim is ? Plus I think things are pointing Melesant's way and he's local... All that for a possible ? Wouldn't it be simpler to ask the guy to come over ? The circles are HERE and if he's a Gate expert, the trip shouldn't be too much problem for him, I would think."
	Kurt frowns for a moment before speaking, "Well, my friend is a magi of incredible power. He may even surpass Whorlin in power. It is not my place to summon him here to examine what may fade within an hour or so. It is easier to send the item used to create the circles and have him research it than to have him come out here.  Besides, if he can make this onxy item here work, we can create a circle from his place.
	"In regards to Melesant's, I think his is just a small part in the abductions, if involved at all. It would take more time trying to find out if he is involved or not. It is easier to find Varitheim and head straight to where the circle's destination is."
	Jurgen listens, apparently ready to at least consider the move. "I disagreee with the Melesant thing, he's a major muscle at the very least. But anyway, going over without knowing if your friend even WANTS to look into our problem still seems blastedly... pre-mature, Kurt. Seems safer to send the Bird with the stick like you planned and WAIT for him to contact us. See if he wants us to make the trip or if he prefers to come himself, gives us time to look at possible leads here too... Worse case, we loose a day's travel." Jurgen spreads his hands and raises an interogative eyebrow.
	Kurt nods his head in agreement.  "Good enough then. Raven shall go forth to see my friend, then we can continue our investigation here. That way we shall get the best of both worlds here. I still think that checking Melesant out will not surrender much but, it doesn't hurt."
	Kurt then turns to Raven, "Are you well enough to fly?  If so, can you take this" Kurt holds up the onyx stick "to Roldolph?  I want him to begin researching this item so he can give me the needed information on activating the sending circle."
	"Me flys! Takes stick, yes? Talks toos Roldolphin." (Strangely enough, the name 'roldolphin' rolls off the raven's beak pronounced perfectly, unlike most of his speach. Its a bit unnerving.) The raven waits for Kurt to give him the stick.
	Kurt the stick for him to take. "Go then Raven. Get this to Roldoph and let him know our situation. Any help afforded will be appreciated. If Roldoph chooses to see the circles himself, you know where to take him."
	"Watch out for suspiscious looking eagles, Bird. You're still pie to them..."
	With the stick in his beak, the Raven takes off with a vengence. The nearly three foot tall bird is out of sight in moments, soaring towards the southeast. Many hopes for a magical solution fly with him.
	"So... We still do the split thing or what ? Plenty to do and little time to do it in."
	Deryn shrugs, clinking a bit with the movement. "You gentlemen are a lot more familiar with the sittuation than am I, so I shall defer to your wisdom as to how to who should go where when."  She smiles slightly as she adds, "I do think that it is to our benefit to thoroughly investigate all potential leads here before heading off."
	After listening to the plans Biren agrees "I am sorry to say but Kurt you are going to be alot more useful researching stuff you know while Deryn - well, though you may not be the book type, you certainly stand out a little bit in a crowd. But I see no problem in all going" pausing to look at Jurgen "Though I warn you now I have a little bit of fustration built up and I get to be the tough."  
	"Are you expecting to have to threaten this man?" Deryn asks.
	Smiling for the first time since lunch Biren removes his cloak and hat and examines himself, before removing his gloves and his sash around the waist.  Looking quite a bit different Biren stands there in black leather pants with a dark sword belt 
straped around his waist, his normally white shirt is dirty from the riding he did today and his hair seems a little flustered. "Shall we ? The sooner this goes on the sooner we go meet Kurt's friend and hell maybe even find Shadowlark."
	Kurt shakes his head. "We will not split.  The it seems that we may be getting closer to our objective. I think that more assassins may be sent.  Especially if they can gate as fast as they do. We shall stick together and head to the smithy then to Melesant."
	Jurgen shrugs, "Fine by me."
	Deryn removes the gauntlet from her right hand then her helm.  She places the gauntlet in the helm and holds it with her left hand.  She rubs her forehead with her right hand for a minute, the way people sometimes do when they feel a headach coming on.  "Very well, then," she says, brushing her hair back and putting her helm back on.  "Shall we go visit this smith?" She puts her gauntlet back on as well and walks over to Balin.

	The investigators gather their wits and their effects, storing Shadowlark's equipment for later use and the books for later return. The group moves off accross the city to the slightly seedier sections of the city....
	The Investigators reach an old, dilapidated blacksmith's shop. The place looks like it has seen many better days. The ring of a hammer on anvil can be heard from within. The inside of the shop, as the ancient door creaks its protest and allows you to enter, belies its rustic appearence. Beautiful suits of armor, weapons, and metal crafts line the walls. The ceiling is low, perhaps 6'5'', more suited to dwarves than to men. As you enter, the sounds of smithing stop. A lone dwarf, curled and gnarled with age, approaches the counter and sits on a stool behind it. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

	Deryn clanks in, removes her helm and smiles politely at the dwarf. She does her best not to betray her irritation at being referred to as a gentleman. 'Really, it's understandable,' she reminds herself. 'After all, wearing all this armor and a helm, it's hard to tell at first glance if I'm a woman or just a pretty boy. I could wear armor that makes it apparent, but that stuff isn't made for battle, it's made for show. Besides, Helm needs me watching, not being watched.'

	Biren glances behind himself before grinning and moving towards the dwarf, "Well lets see" he whispers out of clenched teeth. Biren draws the dagger and calmly twirls it in his fingers "Nice work don't you think ?" raising his eyes to the dwarf he smiles "But of course it is, since it's yours." Sliding the dagger back into its sheath, Biren steps towards the bulky dwarf "Since you are the one that made it, you may be able to help us locate a friend that seems to have lost it." pausing not even long enough for the dwarf to answer he steps even closer "You see it's a terrible thing to be lost from things you care about, especially if its forever."  
	Waiting just long enough for his words to sink in Biren smiles a friendly smile "Now friend, if you would care to explain the dagger, its owner and any other questions we may have we will make it worth your while." Pausing for a response from the dwarf Biren's hands seem to float around his waist. Waiting for a response, the grin that comes across his face seems to make him look half mad.
	"Now," Deryn says, smiling humorlessly, "I'm sure this gentleman would be more than happy to assist us. Surely he does not want his work used for foul, evil purposes. We need not threaten when he wants to help."  Deryn moves in a little closer, leaning casually on her maul. "You do want to help us," Deryn says to the dwarf, her expression innocent, "don't you?"

	Jurgen, who'd been about to say something, alters his course and begins looking at the displays, humming to himself. "Bear and the bee, beaver and hare. Strange couples in the forest, I swear. dum da dum du dumm da daaa..."

	The dwarf takes all of this in with the casual aplomb of someone much threatened. He casually takes the dagger from biren. "You are implying that this piece was used in the murder you are investigating, correct?"
	Biren, keeping a straight face in spite of himself, nods affirmative.
	"In that case, I will help you." The dwarf inspects the makers mark and the strange marking contained within. "This was sold to the Melisant family. They run a textile mill near here. This particular piece was made for the Daughter of Melisant, a lady magi whose name escapes me." The dwarf hands the dagger back to Biren. "Ye could learn some manners, young one. Even thy lady friend here, bearing the subtly of a Helmite at full charge, is more scrupulous than thou... Now, have thee business, then make of it. If not, be gone."
	Biren stares for a short period of time at the dwarf, "It did not take you long to remember the dagger, but no matter. Thank you sir, for the information.."
	Deryn chuckles. "See, Biren?  I told you he wanted to help us." She smiles at the dwarf. "Sir, these questions are our business. Your business, of course, is to make money. Since we're not here to buy what you create with your hands, these gentlemen will happily pay you for the product we do want, information." Deryn pauses to smile somewhat smugly at Biren. "Pay the man," she suggests.
	Glancing towards Deryn "your reward is that your shop remains open and my blade remained in its sheath. You sir have the knowledge that you have done something right in you life." Biren quickly turns and pushes past his companions "If the dwarf tells the truth perhaps Shadowlark is closer than we expected, if not some information from the rich daughter may help us find him." Heading out the door Biren mounts Archibald and waits for his companions to follow, searching the street for a friend that he may not see again.

	Deryn looks at the departing Biren in surprise. She shakes her head, frowning in disapproval. "My apologies," she says softly to the dwarf. "This quest lies heavily upon us. I'm afraid the strain has affected our manners." She smiles and gives an apologetic shrug.
	Tearing his gaze from Biren's back, Jurgen whispers a few words to their resident wizard ("Ask if he's sold her or her brother anything else and if he's seen our man for me, will you ? I'll wait with Biren.") before heading out at a brisk pace.
	Kurt, who remained listening to the exchange between Biren, Deryn and the smith, steps up as their talks come to a end. "Excuse me good smithy.  I have one more question in regards to your crafted dagger. The powers you have infused within its razor edge is powerful. What magics have you gifted this dagger with and even better, why? Was such magics requested by the client, this lady magi?"
	"I don't do magic. Whatever finds itself there in the materials and craftsmanship I use gets there itself. This has been the way for as long as my line has swung a hammer. The lady asked for a dagger to be made and gave me what she wished to be used in the process. That is all I will say."
	Deryn perks up at the dwarf's words. "Uhm, excuse me, but what did she wish to be used in the process?"
	That is all the dwarf will say on the matter.
	Kurt adds... "Any of the people you have sold your wares too a rather large mysterious looking fellow?"
	"A mysterious fellow? I see a lot of those."
	"Um...Have you sold anything else to the Melesant family recently?"
	"If you wish to know what I sold the Melesant's, ask them by all means. I will only reveal my sales when they are used for pursuit of purest evil."
	Kurt nods, his face now serious. "The purest of evils?  Good then.  Listen and you decide on whether what I say justifies what you consider evil. We have taken the dagger you have created from a large and rather highly skilled assassin. This assassin is believed to be one of many from a guild that is working to take my team out of our investigation... As well as abducting certain nobles from the comforts of their homes.
 	"If what you say is true, then the Melesant family has a lot to answer for. What I need from you good smithy is your cooperation in lending what information you may have concerning sales of your finely crafted wares. We are hoping that if you can give us any clues as to who is purchasing your goods then maybe we can pinpoint potential threats and prevent them from causing more harm. What do you think?  I doubt you care to have your good named spoiled by tainted hands."
	"Unfortunately, I cannot agree. Humankind changes rapidly and often. What one is now one, may not have always been. Be content with what you know and I would ask you either return or put to good use any of my work you may find in the process."
	Kurt sighs while shaking his head. Turning away from the dwarf, he begins to head out but pauses to wait for his companion.
	Deryn, feeling the dwarf does not intend to provide any additional information, takes the time to looks around the shop, her eyes coming to rest on a particularly well-made sword. She runs her fingers along the blade, almost touching it. "That's beautiful," she sighs softly. "I wish Helm allowed it."
	The dwarf smirks, "That M'Lady is the Abbereth. It was made for a Paladin of your order before he was killed in battle. It currently waits for someone worthy to wield it." He crosses his arms in a smug sort of way and waits for Deryn's response.
	Deryn smiles. "I find myself envying the Paladins, good sir," she says with a laugh. "I hope that someone worthy will find their way to your shop soon. It's far too fine a weapon to sit on display.  Weapons like that," she continues, waxing poetic, "ought to be in battle, serving their purpose." Deryn clearly likes her weapons. She holds her clenched, gauntleted fist toward the dwarf. "May Helm watch over you," she says solemnly. She finishes the ritual blessing and walks out, Kurt close behind.

                                           * * *

	Outside, and a bit earlier, Jurgen makes his way to Biren's side, "Come on, it's not as bad as all that. We'll find him..." A pause as he looks up at the mounted warrior. In a softer voice, he finaly says "You lose somebody that way ?"
	Biren looks down at Jurgen, concern and anger evident on his face. With a shrug he replies "I lost a few, a number of different ways, but close enough to this." He looks to Jurgen with a worried smile, Biren's head nods "Jurgen... not yet, maybe soon but not yet I'm not ready..."
	Jurgen waves it all away, "Not like I don't have a few shockers myself, you know... Judging by experience, seems the best time to share them is while stone drunk and half the town is listening. Does wonders for your humility." He smirks slowly then shrugs, "Plenty of time for that when we know each other a bit better. As whoever said, we're still 'strangers tossed together by capricious fate'... and darts."
	A soft smile floats across Biren's face "I wasn't really picked at random, you know. I think the king realized the group needed some class... and someone who could use a sword, I imagine." Biren smiles and nods to his leather clad friend "Thanks Jurgen just getting my mind off it helps quite a bit." Shifting on the saddle Biren turns to survey the street again "Is our Helmite princess done saving the essence of our lovely blacksmith yet?" With a quick smile, Biren turns back to Archibald and his saddle bags to retrieve his hat, gloves and cloak.
	"Was busy glueing back the dwarf's good reguards when I left. Shouldn't be too long." Jurgen mounts up on Peasant Uprising, "Think there's anything to gain by bursting-in on *Lady* Rala with the dagger ?"
	Biren laughs "ahh but Jurgen, ladies are the best to burst in on. Daggers are not always necessary but" shrugging "I imagine this time we should at least keep it on hand."
	The rogue smiles, happy to see Biren in better mood. He goes to answer, no doubt something salacious, but leaves whatever it is unsaid as Deryn and Kurt arrive, "Bit quicker than I thought, actualy."

	"Well, that could have gone better." exclaims Deryn. She takes a moment to remove one gauntlet and her helm and roots around in one of her saddlebags for a few minutes. Finally, she pulls out a wineskin and takes a few refreshing swigs from it. She frowns at the saddlebag as she returns the wineskin. "This is what happens when others pack for you," she mutters. "Can't find a thing in there."
	Also joining the group, Kurt mounts Old Man and looks to everyone. "Well, now we know for sure the Melesant family is worth looking into. Let us be off... The Melesant family has some answering to do. Be ready for battle just in case."
	With Kurt saddled, Biren nods his agreement to the plan and prepares to follow.
	Jurgen knees his beige mare into motion, sticking close to Kurt, "So... Where we headed exactly ? If it's the textile mill, how about a little snooping before hand ? Or *during* could work too."
	Kurt looks to Jurgen... "That's where your special talents come in Jurgen. You head out and scope the place under the shadows. The rest of us will ride on and do the direct approach. Hopefully this will focus the attention on us rather than a single person sneaking about. Go and be careful."
	The rogue nods quietly, "Consider it done."
	The troupe begins a short trek northward, truely outside of the walls of the city: into another set of walls entirely.


CHAPTER 7 - On Melesant land

	The Melisant Textile Mill lies in the center of the old-growth forest that dominates the North of the City of Hanke. This land has been untouched for generations and provides the city with a pretty solid land defense. Nestled in that forest is a clearing about 40acres in size. A small but many-storied keep dominates the eastern edge of the clearing. Sprawling throughout the rest are the low stone buildings of the textile mill. Servants of all races, harried by whip-carrying foreman, carry wools, leathers, and other raw materials to the center complex. It is strange to note that all the over-seers seem human while most of the workers are not. Others servants carry finished goods to carts that await taking them presumablly to caravans for further distribution. A small, squat, stone building near the center of the hub-bub is plainly marked, in many tongues, "Seneshal." The Seneshal of the family would take care of the money, administration, and day-to-day operations of the mill. The building is flanked by two large, human guards leaning on wicked looking swords.
	Something else seems strangely out of place. Not far to the west and north of the clearing a tower rises from the trees. It has few windows and seems to be made of dull, gray stone. A narrow road leads from the complex in that direction.
	Behind a tree off the side of the road (in view of the group but not the clearing), Jurgen raises his left hand, then points to the tower. Not bothering with his rope, he grips the bark of the tree and quickly dissapears up into the foliage. From up above, he watches as  the Investigators enter the clearing, no-one seeming to pay them heed. The foreman ignores them completely and the servants seem too busy to notice. The path to the small stone building is easy and well laid out. It is hard to determine from here how one would reach the keep itself.
	"Well, gentlemen," Deryn says, all sparkly in the daylight, "shall we pay our respects to the Seneshal?"
	Kurt's eyes the tower and frowns a bit. Talking to the remaining members.... "Look. A tower and possibly a mages tower. I doubt the mage residing in that tower is capable enough to work the gate magics that the assassins has been using, however, let's keep our eyes open.  I do not like the look of this place."
	Looking around Biren is disgusted, moving closer towards the group "I don't like this. Look, no one even thinks we don't belong." glancing around again "and these people don't work here they're slaves." Biren loosens his sword in its sheath "If these people are friends with our grey friend maybe we should proceed with caution."  Biren looks to Deryn "IF these people know of us, it is because of your dwarven friend. Kurt," motioning towards the guards "I don't think its a good idea for all of us to go in there someone should stand watch." With that Biren turns to study the area.  
	"Oh," Deryn says, rolling her eyes, "he certainly wouldn't have mentioned anything to them because some belligerent guy came in and threatened him." She shakes her head and and sighs.
	After a long study of the area Biren turns again to the group and in a quiet tone explains "If there is a way to help these people I must try they are suffering its not right and the humans are doing it."
	"Patience Biren. This does look like potential slavery but the town doesn't seem to think so. Unless slavery is allowed here. Anyone know the rules of this place?  Either way, let us move onward to speak to this seneshal. And..." Kurt looks to Biren, "If the Melesant family knows of us, its way before we even saw the dwarf as I am sure word has spread of us already.  Either way, let's move out and be ready for anything."
	Kurt heads to the Seneshal office, ties his horse and enters the building.
	Deryn dismounts with a resounding jingle.  "Stay," she says to her horse, dropping the reins on the ground. She follows Kurt inside.

	'Nothing more to see now.' thinks Jurgen. The rogue from Dongarten makes his way around the clearing, jumping from tree to tree, swinging over the wider gaps. 'Just like when we were young.' smiles Jurgen as he pauses, perched on an ancient pine about half-way around. 'Wonder if Mathew's still with us. The old fool sure could yell... Fine trees though...'
	Looking down, he quietly watches a security patrol pass by. He's seen them every once in a while, always the same set-up : five of them and pretty well armed too (polearms/swords/crossbows). They don't seem to be looking up though and no traps or noisemakers in the trees. 'Rather sloppy of them... Hehe Should offer my services after this is over. Good pay I'm sure.' 
	Chuckling silently at his own humor, Jurgen faces the trunk, bouncing and pulling himself up to a prone position on a large branch, higher up in the tree. He crawls forward, delicately parting cones and leaf-bearing branches until he gets a plunging view of the clearing, right in front of the keep too... 
	From above the perspective of the walls, and quite precariously placed, Jurgen can see the layout of the keep. A square fortress with four towers, it contains the necessities of life (stable, armory, quarters, central building, parade ground, storage). The walls are hugely thick ('Rubble core ? Fine place for secret passages...'). Ballista and catapult sit on the tower-tops. Guards walk the heavy crenelations studded with arrow-slits and murder holes. The single gate could stop an army. Jurgen does spot two postern gates, one is obviously well-used and in the direction of the magi-tower Kurt pointed out. Roof access on all of the towers. It all looks extremely well forified... even barred lower windows on the inside and inward pointing arrow-slits. 
	'Damn. Probably got her stashed in there if at all. Was hoping for the tower... Still might be if they fear Kingly inspection of their dungeons... Time for the main event, I suppose.' He pats the pocket where the invisibility potion is stashed, making sure it's loose and ready for action. 'Saving you for the big push... or the big running-away, should it come to that.' On he goes, slowly and carefully for this last leg of the tower approach... Thinking his situation over as his body moves almost without conscious thought, 'On the other hand, won't I look silly if I get caught ? Potions in my pockets won't be much use then, will they ? Safer to gulp the thing now and have the edge.' <gloups> 
	At the tree's edge, Jurgen waits until a patrol has passed. "Across." He lands with the utmost care, absorbing the impact with the tower's back wall as best he can. Then silence. Tense silence, listening for alerts... All is calm.
	With a sigh of relief, Jurgen makes his way up the tower, stopping at each floor to discreetly look into arrowslits and listen. The guards are just chatting between themselves while on watch. Some of the comments are rather lewd and their actions are arrogant. These are some well paid and loyal troops who follow the ideals of this place...
	He ends up on the roof of one of the defensive towers between a rotation of the guards. It would be quite easy to hide here or just go down the stairway and out into the courtyard. From the top of the tower, Jurgen can see the central building better. It's a square, squat two-stories affair built out of stone. Four arrow slits on the second level on each side. One large set of re-inforced double doors. Currently closed. He can see servants going in and out of a servant's enterance on the side. The entrance is guarded by two guards. The Melisant family standard flies from the roof. There's got to be a hatch up there somewhere, but its too far away for the rope. 'Guess they'd notice a rope hanging on the inside of their walls anyways...' smiles the invisible man. To the side, Jurgen also catches one large building that also has two guards in front of it. Servants exit and leave this one as well. 
	'Save that one for later...' Light as  a man of his size can be (and perhaps a bit lighter than that still), Jurgen makes his way down the steps and into the courtyard. He follows the walls (where the chances of bumping into someone are lessened) then quickly hops accross to the nearest building until he stands with his back to his destination. <swick> quiet sound of oiled steel on leather sheeths. 'Climbing daggers for stone walls. Been relying on that rope too much lately. Back to basics...'
	Up on the roof, the hatch proves difficult. It is dogged from the inside, openeable with enough force but not without a fair amount of noise. The lock (bar) is too crude for lock picking techniques. 'Tssk, and here I thought the Melesants only used gold plated locks, finely engraved with scenes of their glorious history. What a disapointment !'
	After a careful survey of the roof ('Nada.'), it's back down to ground level ('You wanted training ? You got training.'). Then Jurgen calmly walks through the servant's entrance, following a burly dwarf carrying un-tanned hides. It smells, rather badly. Calm Jurgen may be, but this invisible walking thing takes some getting used to, rather un-nerving actually.
	Through a couple of dingy corridors, obviously for servant's use, he almost passes the entrance to the kitchen. Through the kitchen, he can see the entrance to the main part of the inner keep. The kitchen is bustling and commanded by a large, short, human woman armed with a roasting spit that she uses liberally on women of various other species... shouting orders in a language that makes the rogue's ears burn. 
	'Better and better. Good thing Biren isn't here. Would've had the cow swimming in her own cooking right about now... and I'd be holding her down. <sigh> Too bad I'm so bloody responsible now'a days. Maybe on the way back...' With a grim smile, Jurgen studies the kitchen's bustle for a while, then snaps behind a woman going to cutting board, leaving her for an empty spot besides the fire. Wait... roll accross to under the main table then crawl and pop back up to follow another woman. After a quick check to see that nothing visible clings to him, Jurgen glides into the next room.
	Several nobles are seated around a table in the main hall, arguing about the state of family affairs. Nothing truely interesting, actually. Mostly they are discussing the creation of new fabrics, the sale of leather goods, etc. These guys seem about the right age to be the current generation of sons. There are four of them, varying in ages, but all with the same general appearance... Two knights are talking in low, hushed tones at the far end of the room.
	'Now that looks more promising...' Jurgen creeps quietly in their direction... then up the stairs and over to the left. He gracefully steps over the handrail and lowers himself to an upside-down position. Hovering above them, his feet hooked over a spiral stair, the bat-rogue is a scant few meters from where the two whisperers are using the staircase for cover.
	The first knight is tall, about 6'7'', and probablly half-elven. Few humans in this neck of the woods reach that height. He is curly-blonde haired and possesing of piercing blue, gold-flecked, eyes. He has a luxuriant mustache and wears heavy grey plate mail studded with spikes. He carries a flail and a mace.
	The second knight is shorter, perhaps 5'6'', and burly. Fully human, he has a deep bass voice and dark hair and eyes. He wears Maximillian plate, obviously of dwarven make, and carries a pair of stout hammers.
	The conversation is picked up with the blonde knight speaking:
	"Really? Yon group o' strangers been sent by the king? Unheard of!"
	"Tis true. Even know Arabella is dealing with them. Shall be done soon, I'm sure."
	"Aye. That be not one fo' me! But truely, Grunst, why the tooling up?"
	"War, bein' sure. With whom, I am not knowing."
	"Staggering. Sure'n we shalt see. Or master be restless."
	"Aye, quite. He sees his time in passing... hard for all."
	At this point in the conversation, a quiet servant coming up the stairs manages to bump one of his hooked feet, sending it off of the stair. 'Whaaaaa!' Jurgen fishes in his pool of reflexes acumulated from his years in the mountains and instead of fighting the circular motion, increases it, twisting his body around. A mad grab at empty air... His left hand makes contact with a handrail post... and slides off by bare inches ! You can just about hear the silent cursing as he strikes the ground.
	Both knights whirl around looking for the source of the noise so close...
	Desperatly trying to muffle gasping breaths and quiet down the mad beating of his heart, Jurgen freezes into a fair imitation of a statue, '"Rogue in distress" perhaps or "How he lost his &/*/$@@ head". Ratri, Hermes, No Cha - anybody ! a good sized offering if you get your wayward son out of this one... in one peice.' He quickly scans at his back for a path that would get him out of the way but Jurgen has landed only a very few feet from the now alert knights. Nobody else in the hall seems to have noticed. 
	The tall knight draws a very wicked looking dagger and proceedes to poke the air around him. 'No doubt about it, invisibility is vastly - ack - overused if the first thing you do after hearing a - missed - a noise is poke at empty air with a - woah - sharp implement.' coming dangerously close but never actually hitting the invisible rogue.
	The shorter knight begins walking in circles, slowly, from his point of origin. The rogue takes a single step forward into the ever growing circle, then makes himself as thin as possible as he watches the man turn around him. 'My local representative is definately going to hear about this sad state of affairs...' 
	After a few unsucessful minutes of searching, they leave the hall via the staircase. Jurgen is left with a few servants and bored nobles. 'Bloody skies above !' Jurgen sags with relief... just for a moment though, 'Alright what's this gained us besides the need to drink myself silly ? Dying old man... tooling for war... Arabella crisping the strangers Um... Nah, they can take care of themselves (I hope), so... Document search.' A more careful Jurgen ventures into the adjacent rooms in search of some official tidbits to feed the King's people.
	Re-entering the kitchen and following the corridors, Jurgen has soon searched all of the lower level. Nothing of interest is found. Glad he drank the entire bottle of invisibility potion, Jurgen then follows the stairs down into the lower level of the keep. The lower level consists of a small dungeon (one guard, 3 cells, 1 that appears occupied), a small reserve well, food cold storage, and a heavily barred door that doesn't lead to anywhere that could possibly be in the keep.
	'Chances of being somebody I want to see, damn near nothing. Still...' The man from Dongarten steps up to the cell door and peeks inside through the bars. Within the dark and dismal cell is the strangest thing, and the least expected, a man from Dongarten could have imagined. A huge cat. White furred, dingy, obviously ill kept. The beast is over 8' long and about 3' high. Not quite horse sized, but definately big. As Jurgen looks through the cell bars, the golden eyes focus on him... and widen, seeming to see through Jurgen's guise even though the guard does not... The huge house-cat looks at Jurgen, to the guard, and to the lock on the cell. It then waits to see the human's reaction. 
	'A cat ! Why would they put a cat in a cell ? They belong in hats, everyone knows that. Um...' A miscevious grin spreads accross his face. After a glance at the back of the indolent guard, Jurgen puts a finger in front of his lips, then motions the cat close to the door, closer, up on your feet, come-on, up. (The cat looks at the man for a second, then smiles, Fang-Cheshire like. She wanders up, slowly, with much pain.) Reaching through the bars and careful to keep smiling, he ties one end of his bowstring around the cat's neck, uncorks the shrinking potion and gestures for the feline to drink it as he pours.
	The cat promptly eats the potion from his hand! He chews for a second, and then is small. Jurgen pulls the now inch-high cat through the bars and retreats into the food storage room. "And who might we be ?" he whispers to the cat in his palm.
	The inch-high cat climbs its way up his shirt to a spot on his shoulder. There, it promply lies down. A voice in Jurgen's mind, female, rolling her r's a lot, speaks: "I am Verrrransherial. Call me Sherial [Shaerrril]. Now, shall we leave this dismal place?"
	"Of course, I just happened to sneak into this heavily guarded fortress to steal their cat. Now that that's done, nothing to do but leave, I suppose." Jurgen raises a pointed eyebrow in the furball's direction... After letting that bit of knowledge sink in, he continues, "I'm actualy looking for information, Chayrrr<cough>- cat. You hear of any kidnapping while you're down here ? Big black man in equaly dark leather ? Magical gates ? Activities of a darker bend ?"
	"hrrrrmph... Herre forrrr a rrreason, arre we? Well, I am not. But if we must.... I at least know of this place." *shudder* "Kidnapping? Yerrsss... When we leave herrre I shall tell you. Now, wherrre arre you going?"
	'Couldn't have been a dog, nooooo. I get the ever independant cat.' Out loud, "Depends. If you know what I need, then I'm going out, nice and quiet. Else, I'm traipsing about this place some more, perhaps earning both of us an invite to stay on a more permanent basis." Jurgen smiles, "I much prefer the first thing, so how bout a short list of what you know about this kidnapping deal, yess ?"
	"Independant, yess, but cuterrrr..." The small cat grins wide... (Jurgen blushes in embarrassment, but tries to cover it up, scratching his temple and looking at something else.) "I listened to the Lady talk with the black man you described... If you get me out, perrrrhaps I shall tell you all." *cheshire grin*
	"Uhum, yes... How bout what's behind the barred door ?"
	"Tunnel to the Lady's tower. We sshal enterr thrrough the basement. The doorr is locked, but the guarrrd in therre has the key."
	"Mm, Think I stretched my luck a bit too thin to go against the sparkly stuff today. Might already be covered anyway if she's the arrogant sort... Nah, stick to where we are. You got anything on that large guarded building out there ?"
	"The keep. Not much of it have I seen. Sorrrry..."
	"Not a problem. Figure we tour the upstairs then maybe a quick looksee on the other place. You in ?"
	"Of Courrrsse..."
	"Alright but watch those claws. Scratched leathers I don't need." On that note, Jurgen climbs back upstairs, through the kitchen, then up those cursed steps to the first story. The second floor of the Keep is devoted to the Royalty rooms. Large, expansive rooms make up the entire floor. Another staircase leads to what must be the roof door. All around him is the splendor of the noble family of Melisants...
	'I figure the higher ups must be in the bigger rooms and the top man in the biggest one of them all. If there's gold to be struck, it's there.' Jurgen tiptoes to the door in question and listens for evidence of someone inside... then frowns as an idea strikes him. 'Say, you're the feline around here. You hear or smell anyone in there, Shaerrril ? (Um, damnebly easier on the throat when you just *think* it.)'
	Shaeril thinks for a moment and then sends to your head... "I don't sense anyone in the large room. The smaller two rooms have sleepers in them. The large room's door appears to be trapped, there is a great sense of fear about it." Jurgen quickly checks, and finds a rather nasty needle/poison trap. The trap looks easy enough to disarm.
	'Bit *too* easy...' The cautious intruder examines the door more closely, looking for alarms, magical runes or mechanisms connected to that "easy" trap or the door proper. None are found. 'Um... The crowbar approach's more my style when I go solo. Not going to work here so should I ah blow it, my horse is about a league down the south path behind a clump of maples. Wait there and Kurt (a magical fellow in red) will take care of the rest.' That said, Jurgen blocks the needle hole with a bit of bread and proceeds with the delicate procedure of opening the door. 'Watch my back if you would, Shaerrril. This is going to take a moment.'
	A loud, sinister click is heard. The piece of bread takes a brutal beating, but the thief is still intact. Jurgen freezes, listening. He hears the tick of a clock from within the room, but all else is silent. No servants even come near here. He finishes opening the door in about five minutes. The rest is simple B&E. Inside the room is what you would expect to find in a lord's chamber: dressers and clothing, a large bed, weapons closet, desk and writing table, servant's cord, and several other closets. There is also a mirror-like thing in the corner covered with a tapestry of some sort.
	'Any impressions, Shaerrril ?'
	"I'mmmm not sssykik. Jusst telepppathic."
	'Hum. But you're a cat too, aren't you ? You know: sharp senses, prickly -intuition, I suppose - and all.'
	"Maybe when I am not an iincchh tall... all I sssmell isss the oilsss you usse on yourrrr clothess." *said with humorous intent*
	'Oh well.' Shrugging, the invisible menace begins a quick look around, searching under the bed, inside and on top of closets (not forgetting to look for secret compartments) and inside/under the dresser. Last, and possibly least, he looks through the lord's clothing for any forgotten items. The Lord of the Keep has a few interesting items of jewerly, but nothing that even Jurgen would risk limb for. There is a nice diamond broach that was lost behind a dresser. It could disappear easily and so it does <g>. 'Didn't I hear a clock ? Where is the thing ?' 
	There *is* a clock, grandfather style, door and all, against the northern wall. It's obviously very new and runs on some obscure magical principle, you're quite sure. 'These Melesant guys don't skimp on the magical stuff, sure as sure. Water clock too good for them apparently.' A quick look reveals nothing so Jurgen turns his attention to the desk. 'The piece-de-resistance as Nikki would say... Gotta ask him what that means eventually.' Jurgen easily disarms the pressure trap he finds beneath the paperwork. Sloppy work on the setter's part. A quick search in that paperwork reveals a sheaf of papers on the business run here: numbers of slaves, races of slaves, death tolls of slaves. Interesting stuff. 
	'More interesting still if any of it was against the law.' he sighs. 'Might tell what the family is up too though.' Jurgen flips though the pile, looking for notes on exactly what all this people are working on (or died for). As Jurgen peruses the paperwork, he comes upon a startling trend. Sure, many slaves die from causes such as "old age", "accidental death" and "wild animals", but there is a strange death marked, more and more frequently: "Sent to Tower." No slave with this denotation is in the records again. There is also a listing for "pleasure and entertainment" and "game related death". 
	'Ugh. I'd say these people need a little more iron in their stomachs... or hearts, or lungs, I'm not difficult. Still, best find of the trip. Present company excluded, of course.' Several of the more incriminating pages find their way into his scroll case.
	In the bottom drawer there is a dull-grey dagger made of a dense metal. It appears quite sharp and rather servicable. There are some stains on it, dark, not rust. The handle, upon closer inspection, is wrapped in a lizard-like hide. 'Well, if Kurt can't track a guy by his clothes, he won't do much with a dagger, dipped in the blood of innocents or not. Don't need it.' The rogue turns away only to pause and squat back down. 'Wonder if it's from short-stuff ? *That* might be interresting and useful.' But no makers mark is evident... strangely so. 'Well, it was worth a shot.' Nothing else of interrest in the desk and there appears to be nothing pertaining to kidnapping or the High King in this entire room. Disappointing. 
	Shaerril whispers: "Time fliess... yourrr potion will not lassst forreverrrr."
	'Got a point there... Then again, it might. That's the problem with potions. Tell you what, that mirror seems damn suspiscious. We take a look at it and then were out.' Smiling a toothy smile, 'Little point in both of us turning to stone, wouldn't you say ? I'll lift the tapestry, you take a quick look, alright ?'
	The tapestry in question looks normal. A scene of lovers having, er, a bit of fun. The mirror, however, is not. It is a swirling portal of magic. The colors light up the room with their brilliance. The mirror has strange arcane symbols, in iron, all around it. "Hmmmm... ssseems like a porrrtal. They usse theesse forrr trravel here. Purrhaps to the towerr?"
	Jurgen frowns at the swirling mess, 'Maybe, or maybe straight to the pits of Hell. I don't like it. Haven't lived this long by being foolish.' He looks at where he is and remembers some of the things he's done in the recent and not so recent past, 'Ah... well, not *overly* foolish at least.' He quickly clean up after himself, trying to leave the room as he found it. 'There *is* a difference between courage and foolishness you know.'
	Jurgen's cleaning is rudely interrupted by two burly figures rushing out of the mirror !! The first figure misses the quick-footed rogue by bare inches. The second guard bowls right into Jurgen's dodging form, sending him sprawling. But due to the potency of his invisiblity, he is kept from the eyes of the guards. The first guard looks around as the second guard draws his weapon and shouts: "I hitted somethin'!! There be a magi or thief here. Get the door! I be callin' for help."
	Jurgen silently mouthes the most obscene curse in his repertoire. Why couldn't these guys arrive just a bit earlier when he was accross the bloody, god forsaken room ? and then the pain hits him. Seems the roll took Shaerrril by surprise too: she slipped from his shoulder and maintained herself in place only by the strength of her claws... planted deep in his neck! 
	'No time for that.' Gritting his teeth, the rogue rights himself, sidesteps his opponents and quietly slips through the magic mirror, any noise he might make covered by the footfalls of guard number two. On the other side, he looks arou- make that: steps aside quickly as three figures rush pass and through the portal. It's Deryn, Biren and Kurt ! At the same time, the strange feeling he's had since crossing the mirror peeks and his invisibility fades to nothing!
	'What ?' Short pause while the man from Dongarten tries to wrap his mind around this perticular twist... Then he whirls and launches one of his daggers. The sharp implement sails just right of Kurt's ear and nearly takes a ricochet off of Deryn's armor. The dagger does, however, hit the rope, but not in the way Jurgen intended! The dagger hits the wall with an impossible amount of force, driving it clean to the HILT in the wall: through a layer of wood veneer and into six inches of solid stone. The dagger makes a metallic *Thunk* as it strikes home. The servants bell will *not* be ringing. 'Uhem. You can let go now, Shaerrril.'
	But how did the group get there ? Last he saw them, they were entering the Seneschal’s building...
     
                                           * * *

	Biren, Deryn, and Kurt make their way past the guards and into the stone building. The guards move aside without a word. The Investigators then enter the opulent splendor of Hanke’s richest family. The stone building is richly appointed. Tapestries dedicated to family triumphs line the walls: trophy animals, including a dragon’s head, weapons of notable warriors, vases from ancient times and faraway lands, rugs from the eastern lands, and everywhere the glint of gold.
	The Seneschal himself sits at an Ironwood desk, his mace of office within easy reach. The Seneschal is an older man, beyond his prime, with a gray head of hair and a regal, angular bearing. He is dressed in the scarlet robes of office with a titanic pile of paperwork before him. A young female elven servant, sporting fresh bruises and much the worse for wear, attends him. 
	Deryn looks at the servant, what little of her face is visible expressionless. She turns her attention to the Seneschal when he looks up up at the group expectantly.
	"I am Kurt of Dorken Tower. I wish an audience with a daughter of the Melisant family. A daughter with the gift of the Arts. The reason is to discuss a particular item of magic. Nothing more shall be revealed until this Lady Magi is present as it concerns her. If there is more than one daughter, then the presence of each daughter is requested. Also, should the daughter or daughters grant this request, I also ask for a private room as the Arts are not made to be seen by the untrained."
	The Seneschal looks at Kurt and takes his measure. He gestures to the servant, who leaves abruptly and quickly. "Wait."
	Kurt gestures behind him, "These are my companions when I travel."
	A few minutes pass and the servant returns. She whispers to the Seneschal. He speaks. "Beyond this door you find the portal to the tower. Enter it. The Lady will receive you there." He points to the door through which the servant left and returns to his parchment-work.
	Deryn nods at the man, enough so as to be on the polite side of curt. Her eyes follow the servant out the door, then so does the rest of her.
	Kurt turns to the door and moves in step behind Deryn. Moving close to her, enough to whisper softly, "Be prepared for trouble... Just in case there is any." Kurt then moves a step behind and continues in silence.
	The Investigators, minus one, are lead down a hallway until they come to a portal at it's end. It's a huge, mirror-like, free-standing monolith rimmed by an oak tree relief. The center is the glowing, swirling, extra-dimensional space most associated with magical travel. She steps aside and points them through. Being the leader, Kurt steps through first, rapidly followed by Deryn and Biren... 
	The group finds themselves in an ancient Entry-hall. A circular wall to their back suggests that this must be the tower. However, the interior gives no idea of how high up one is. The chamber is 40' square (one wall curved outward) with high ceilings and a dark, forboding atmosphere of torch-smoke and old, musty tapestries.... several of which hang nearby. A single, large, wooden door leads out of the room.
	In from this doorway comes several heavily armed orcish warriors in black plate armor. They are wielding heavy cut and thrust swords and round, steel shields adapted to the close quarters. Their faces are serene and intelligent. They grunt to each other quickly as the 4 of them quickly close the distance and engage the investigators.
	Deryn smiles coldly as she pulls out her maul. She takes a step to the side to give herself room to swing her weapon. "Is this really necessary?" she asks (somewhat rhetorically) to the orcs. 'I'm better armored than the guys.' she thinks to herself. 'Best if I take the brunt of the attack.' Deryn takes a step forward, her maul held ready. 'If any of them get so close I can hit them, then I'll construe that as an attack.'
	Biren smiles, drawing his thin longsword and moving away from Deryn, "I can take care of myself, don't really plan on getting hit." Holding the his sword before him, with one hand outstretched to the side, Biren waits on the balls of his feet ready to pounce.  "Kurt you sure we should wait?" Nodding to his opponents "Do you want to dance?" he whispers as he waits to recieve his opponent.
	Kurt frowns at the sight of the all too familiar orc warriors. Ducking behind Deryn, he says, "Do not charge them, let them come to us. You two have care with those orcs. They are intelligent and they fight pretty damn good." Kurt then crouches and points one hand towards the orcs while his other hand forms a fist by his heart... "Source of all power, crimson blood that burns, take shape and flow by my command!" The moment Kurt's brilliant ball of magical flame strikes one of the orcs, all four of them flicker out of existance leaving an empty antechamber and the sounds of confusion...
	Kurt stands and straightens his robes. "An illusion? But why?" 
	Deryn's eyes narrow. "And for what purpose..?" she mutters rhetorically. She keeps her grip on her maul and surveys the entire room before relaxing the least little bit. To Kurt she says, "That was, I assume, some sort of magical illusion?"
	Kurt nods, "It seems like we are being toyed with or studied. This will take care of the latter." Kurt draws his dagger from its sheath and watches the small bolts of lightning race along its keen edge.
	Kurt then looks ahead, "Now, let us find out why we are being toyed with. Stay on guard. Whoever created those illusions know about those orcs and if they know about those orcs, then that means trouble. The last time I encountered them, it was against the Ebon Hand." Kurt cautiously moves onward down the corridor.
	The corridor runs the diameter of the tower, about 100yds. There are 4 doors on each side. The group is currently on one end of the corridor. There is a door exactly accross from them. The next set of doors is 20yds down. The 4 groups of doors are evenly spaced.The corridor is lit with flameless torches. The center of the corridor holds a spiral staircase that apparently runs the entire height of the tower, goping both up and down. There is nobody in the corridor.
	"I wonder," comments Deryn, "if the purpose of that illusion wasn't to force us to reveal what skills we possess and possibly make us burn some spells. If it was, well, it certainly seemed to work. Odd way to receive guests." Deryn keeps her maul in one hand. In her gleaming armor, carrying such a formidable weapon, she doesn't seem very priestly at all. Then again, she didn't look much like a priest during lunch, either. "Doors or stairs, gentlemen?" asks Deryn. "I can burn a spell or two myself, if you'd like. A check for magic or perhaps evil might be in order," she speculates.
	Kurt looks about the hallway in silent thought, "You may be right Deryn, yet it was a waste in any case. The spell I used was minor if anything and I have more than plenty left within my mind to weave if needed. I have a feeling someone was teasing us. After all, even if I did not waste a spell, one swing from either of you and poof, the illusion is gone." Kurt thinks a moment longer... "No, save your spells until later. Magic is definetly in the air and as for evil..." Kurt looks to Deryn, "I suspect that evil is all over this place... Let us head up the stairs. If this tower is like any other wizards inhabit, the rooms we need to be in are on top." Kurt then begins heading towards the staircase then up.
	Shrugging, Biren smiles "Well, shall we ?" moving towards the steps, he pauses and turns back to Kurt "Kurt, how many steps are there usually in a tower, you know I don't want to be climbing all day."  Keeping his sword arm free from obstructions he starts to climb. Mumbling to himself "Stupid fake orcs, it's a shame really."
	Lead by Kurt, they quickly begin a treck up the stairs onto the flickering light of the levels above. There seems to be half a dozen levels much like the one they were on. A quick search of the corridors of each reveals no occupants. None of the doors are disturbed. About a hundred and twenty feet of tired climbing later, the group reaches the top of the sixth level. The landing is blocked by a magical rune suspended before a massive door. Kurt, in the lead, takes a moment to study it : the rune is black and gold in the form of a stylized aquiline talon. Golden blood drips stylistically from the tip. The back of the claw has a strange symbol on it. The entire things seems to hover, opaque, over the entrance to the next level.
	"We could always dispel the damned thing," suggests Deryn. "Or try, anyway."  She glares at it. "Of course, it could just be another illusion, but I'm not overly anxious to test that theory."
	Kurt studies the door a moment longer while in thought... "Hmmm...What is this mage's game? We are invited only to be toyed with by illusions and now a door bars us?" Kurt looks to Deryn, "Both your ideas have merit but let us try calling out first and see what happens. If nothing, we will take matters into our own hands and make our way through this place." Kurt looks back to the door, "Ho in there! We were granted an audience with a daughter of this house. Is this how guests are treated?" Kurt then looks to the group and smirks. "Let's see what happens now."
	A long, tense silence follows... Nothing happens.
	"Ooookay," Deryn said, drawing out the word. "Either nobody's home or no one's interested. What now?" Deryn's words echo up and down the spirals of the stairway. Biren grunts in affirmation below.
	Kurt laughs, seemingly enjoying himself. Re-gaining his composure, "Ahem, excuse me. Okay, I am going to test this door to insure it's not another illusion. If it is not, I think we should blast our way in. If they want to play games, let's make the stakes costly to them." Kurt grins, "Stand back. I am going to poke this door with my dagger." 
	"Uh, yeah, no problem," Deryn steps back hastily.
	Stepping back as well, Biren says, "I hope you know what your doing, Kurt, because I really don't want to go back down those steps." A small wiry grin crosses his face "Deryn you should probably cover me with all that armor of yours." giving her a little poke Biren laughs before remembering where he is.
	Deryn nods and says, "That would be a good idea." It's obvious she completely missed the joke. Protecting and guarding are sacred duties to her; it never occurred to her that Biren might be kidding. Well, at one time, it would have been a definite joke, her protecting anyone, but not anymore.
	Just then, Kurt pokes the door with his dagger...
	For the first second, nothing happens. Then a rumbling is heard from the bottom of the staircase. Blue arcs of electricity race up the twining handrail, headed for the top. The electricity, reaching Kurt's dagger in a heartbeat, collects for a split second, and grounds into the door. The door shatters in a huge blast of splinters, metal fragments, and loose electricity. Kurt is pierced by shrapnel and blown back into Deryn, still clutching his dagger. Deryn, splinters ringing from her armor, falls back into Biren. Biren, in an incredible feat of strength, manages to keep the pile from falling further down the stairs though his muscles creak ominously. The smell of burn ozone and blood fill the air... but the door is nowhere to be seen, just another length of staircase continuing up into blackness.
	Kurt coughs and grunts as he regains his balance, "Ouch, that hurts!" Looking to both Biren and Deryn, "My thanks on the catch...Are you both okay?" He winces as he notices that he seems to be the most injured, though apparently unaffected by the huge amount of electricity that just used him as a conduit.
	"Next time," Deryn mutters as she brushes the debris from her armor, "we'll just dispel the damn thing, okay?" She grimaces at a smudge on her armor and mouths something, doubtless impolite.
	Kurt casually leans on the wall, resting. He raises his hand in a halting gesture, "Indeed Deryn. Next time I will dispel the door. For some strange reason, I just had the urge for something out of the ordinary. However, now that my stupidity is out of the way, it's time to get busy."
	"Hmph. Let me take a look at you first." Deryn checks Kurt, then Biren. "I think I can do something about our bruises. Ought to now, while we have the opportunity. Kurt, I hope you have no theological objection to Helm's aid ?" 
	"Please save your healing touch, Deryn. My Art will sustain and heal me. I just need a minute or two to recover. Plus, I have a strong feeling we will need your skills soon enough." Kurt then catches his breath and rests a minute longer.
	"As you wish," says Deryn, moving on to Biren before even noticing that Kurt seemed to be healing himself. It didn't seem to matter one little bit to her if he wanted healing or not. From her demeanor, it was clear Deryn regarded healing as something she felt duty-bound to offer, but that was all. 
	Deryn removes her gauntlets and helm then pulls out a smallish bag and fiddles with some herbs and bandages. She fusses over Biren then herself. She puts up the healer's bag and pulls on her helm and gauntlets. "Up?" she asks.
	Biren nods to Deryn "Thanks, I'll keep watch. err... and Kurt try not to rush headlong into things. It just doesn't work all the time." winking at his friend, Biren moves away from the two, just far enough so he has room to swing his sword. "Hey and next time I'm just going to move out of the way." smiling Biren waits for an opponent that at least won't blow up.
	Kust nods to himself, having come to a decision. "That's it. I am done being nice. It is obvious that the owners of this place have no intentions of meeting us for mere talks. Too many games and wardings. I am at a point where I am just about ready to blast this blasted tower and its owners to dust." Kurt stands and steadies his breathing, "Now let's continue up." He then turns and begins climbing the stairs, his robe momentarily glowing red but fading just as quickly, "Time for trouble."
	The stairs ramble up another flight of nothingness. It is quite dark, but passable. At the top of the stairs, on a rather wide landing, there is a door, slightly ajar. A simple handle adorns it, no lock. The door swings inward. The door is quite plain with no noticable magic about it. It is not opened enough to see inside, just cracked open enough so they know that it *is* open. The investigators stand on the landing wondering what Kurt will do with this one...
	"Wanna borrow a dagger?" asks Deryn innocently. Her dark blue eyes dance with unvoiced laughter. She found humor in the damnedest things.
	Grinning despite himself, Biren moves forward and nods to Kurt "What do you think ? Somethings up, things haven't been what they seemed yet... Do we go in fighting or do we go in with our tails between our legs??"
	Deryn mutters something that sounds like "Men..." 
	Kurt looks to the open door, "No Deryn, no need for a dagger. Look..." Kurt points and continues, "It's open." He grins to himself at his own attempt at sarcastic humor. "This is where you two come in. One of you can bust the door in, the other can ready for any potential attack. If an attack escalates, then I shall work my Arts to its best abilities. Any objections?"
	"As you say, the door's already open," Deryn points out. "Why bust it in?" Deryn takes a quick look at the door. "If one of you wants to push it, I'll stand in the doorway. I'm better armored than either of you." She readies her maul. Deryn looks up the stairs. "By the way," she says in a conversational tone, "I fully intend to take that woman we saw earlier with us when we leave. She's clearly been abused and can't fend for herself."
	Kurt watches as Deryn moves to stand by the doorway, "Why bust in ? For surprise of course. Whomever is in there may think us dead from their warded door. After all, that lighting would have killed most people. I figure if we bust in, it would suprise the room's occupants and give us the advantage of surprise." He thinks moment longer... "Ah, I see. We do not have to bust the door if we are to continue onward with stealth and secrecy. Right... Good thinking." Kurt then looks to Biren, "Alright Biren, we have Deryn pulling guard so that gives you the honors of dealing with the door. Your choice, we can bust in and surprise or we can quietly sneak in and use stealth."
	Smiling, Biren looks Deryn up and down and remarks "Well I'm not sure how stealthy our metal clad gladiator is but I think it would be wise to move slowly... This is a mage's tower after all. For all we know, we could walk off a cliff in the next room." shrugging "If the door pushes in, whoever goes in first moves with it. Secondly Deryn, if there are two opponents you take the one on the right and I will take the one on the left." then looking to Kurt "Don't let them cast any spells. Me and Deryn will keep them busy but I don't really want to be turned into a frog." Smiling Biren moves forward and slowly edges the door open while holding his sword in hand.
	The room is mostly circular and open, taking up the entire floor except for the area of the landing. It seems to be what is characterized in children's stories as a Magi's summoning chamber. Circles and Wards line up along the floors. Pedestals and altars are strewn about. Alchemy equipment stands ready. The 25' high ceilings allow for plenty of room. The floor is hard metal, seamless and sturdy, the walls are the same. The room is orderly and empty save two figures.
	The first is a human woman. Young and beautiful, yet wicked all the same. Silver-streaked black hair and a Magi's robes, a wicked green staff to match. Green eyes like emerald poison and nails turned to claws. A great smile stetches accross her face as she rests her hand upon her companion.
	Her companion is a Horned Deamon. Tall, powerful, obviously male, its scorched plate armor and 2 handed sword are emphasized by its corded muscle and horn-split face. Acidic drool leaks from its mouth, sizzling on the floor. The Daemon's 8 foot frame and hunched appearance add to its fearsome aura.
	The Green Lady Laughs lightly, then speaks, "Greetings Investigators of the High King! I, The Lady Rala Melisant, warmly welcome you to my quarters! Please, speak a while with my Butler here. I have some business to attend to." With that, the Green Lady turns about and walks through a standing portal, leaving them, and Big Ugly, to play. The Daemon hefts his sword, snorts a bit of fire for effect, and slowly strides forward.
	Deryn, taking advantage of the daemon's slow speed, speaks a blessing on herself and her companions "Mightly Helm, I beseech you, bless our battle against this creature of Evil." Deryn then grips her maul a bit more tightly and prepares to attack.
	Kurt, already expecting the worse and with his temper on a short fuse, glances as the Lady Rala disappears into another portal. Wanting to give chase Kurt curses slightly as he watches the Daemon who not only blocks the teams path, but seems to be trying to make directly for him (although Deryn is in his path). Raising his right hand, Kurt quickly starts gesturing in the air while his other hand points to the Daemon, "Source of all power, darkness beyond twilight, shatter my foe with deadly force!" Kurt chants quickly as he draws energy from the magical weave that surrounds the world. His chanting delivers a frightening barrage of light spears that slam into the Daemon's dirt-brown skin, leaving small pock marks where they land.
	Enraged, the Daemon roars its fury and glowing beams of light streak from its eyes to strike both Deryn and Kurt. The beams scorch flesh, melt streaks in armor, and burn clothing.
	Staying out of Kurt's path, Biren moves to the left of the daemon. His sword forward, Biren moves to engage. He falls into a low arcing stance, his back unusually curved in a direction that shouldn't be maintained for any length of time. Pouncing like a cat, Biren slices downward towards the beast with the blue tinged steel sword. Dancing away slightly after his attack, Biren attempts to get on the creatures blind side. He hisses from a clenched mouth "Kurt, I hope this isn't a friend of blackie's." before letting his defensive position melt away into an offensive one. The blow falls just as the daemon leveled his huge sword to attack, forcing him to parry Biren's sword instead.
	Not paying the warrior any more heed, the Daemon presses the attack on Deryn, his huge sword slashing down menacingly. Luckily, she deflects the strike off of her shield, but the sheer force of the blow bends and begins to buckle it as the Priestess is driven to her knees.
	From the other side, Biren lands two light cuts on the Daemon's flank, both drawing an oozing, viscous fluid forth. However, the wounds begin to close almost as soon as they are made.
	Whisling about, the Daemon's return strike narrowly misses the dodging Biren. Its snarls of rage are accompanied by the foul stink of its blood and breath.
	Kurt frowns as he watches the strength of the Daemon warrior and its ability to heal itself. Looking as both Biren and Deryn engage the Daemon, Kurt reaches for his staff (he left it standing next to him). Placing the staff before him, Kurt says calmly, "Roldolph." Once done, Kurt points one end of the staff towards the Daemon and says... "Jerek!" A beam reaches out for the Daemon, who steps aside with unearthly speed, avoiding it totaly. 
	But Kurt's attack has not been in vain. Using the distraction, Biren arcs a low cut towards the hamstring of his opponent. While still rotating through the swing, he brings the blade high in almost a complete circle hoping to bite into some skin. His attack fails, the sword simply gliding off the Daemon's tough hide.
	Hissing through clenched teeth Biren murmers "Kurt, no way to send this abomnination for a drink is there ? He *is* the butler." Without a smile Biren draws the red dagger and attacks with a weapon in each hand. Slashing with the longsword and piercing with the dagger, he opens a long wound on the Daemon's arm. The Daemon slashes at Biren on the way by, but misses.
	Deryn gathers her legs under her and rises, stepping up to the monster like a miner driving steel. A swipe from her Maul actually knocks the thing back a step. Enraged, it batters her with three hard strikes from its sword. The first clangs off her armor, but the other two cut her badly. She retreats for a moment, bleeding from a huge cut in her flank. 
	The priestess gasps when the pain hits her, then growls a few very unpleasant assumptions regarding the relationship between the daemon and it's mother. The large split in her armor is slowly closing, but the woman beneath is not healing nearly as well... 
	Kurt begins to move for position as Biren again batters the monster from behind.
	The Daemon is now badly hurt, although healing quickly. Enraged by the punishment Biren has delivered, the thing stabs the young warrior with the awesome point of its sword, driving him back into a wall ! Before the Daemon can pursue however, Kurt catches it in the chest with a well aimed lightning bolt, blasting it accross the chamber. The bolt bounces off the back wall, splitting stone, and hits the Daemon yet again ! 
	Taking advantage of the Beast's dazed confusion, Deryn and Biren proceed to pound the thing into a stinking, brown and black mound.... that still continues to heal itself at an awesome rate !
	"We need to find a way to destroy the creature." Kurt begins searching the room for anything that he can use to prevent the beast from healing itself. "Keep hacking at it so it doesn't rise again. Chop at its legs if need be."
	"Try cold, maybe acid," says Deryn over her shoulder, not slowing her pounding.  "Biren," she says, increasing the rate of her blows as she tries to 'get ahead,' "I'm going to try something. Gotta stop hitting to do it, though."
	Noticing his clothes for the first time, Byren glances towards Kurt "You know I ruin a good set of clothes everytime we get into trouble." with that Biren continues to slash away at the creature hopefully keeping it in a pile of mush.
	Deryn stops, releases the maul and quickly pulls her shield and flips it over, crouches and grabs a skin and pours water into the shield, making a shallow bowl.  She begins to chant quickly. "Helm, I beseech you, lend your divine blessing to this water so it causes injury to this creature. Injuries that it cannot heal. Send your contempt for this unholy creature through me." She then takes the shield full of water and pours it over the daemon. There is a good deal of popping and sizzling. 

	As both Biren and Deryn go to town with the Daemon, Kurt quickly searches the area for anything to stop it from regenerating. Seeing an alchemist table, Kurt grins and begins scanning the vials on the table. Eyes lighting up, Kurt reaches for a single bottle and re-reads the label then runs over to where the Daemon lies. "Let me try this! Hopefully this does the trick. You two stand back so the vial's contents doesn't splash on you."  
	Once the two stand back, Kurt begins pouring the contents onto the Daemon, then he too steps back to watch the results. "That was Oil of Acidic Rendering. Let's see how the Daemon's regeneration holds up against that."
	The final result is a very crispy denizen of the outer planes. Biren finally takes a rest from his pounding... yet another set of clothes, utterly ruined. Deryn glares at the smoking ruin of the daemon. From her expression, it's clear she regards the creature as something more than just a nasty enemy. "Foul abomination," she snarls at the remains. Kurt sighs as the Daemon is killed. "Now that was a tough one." He says as he turns to look around the room.
	The room now contains a fried Daemon, some smashed alchemy equipment and magical stores, and a standing Portal. The Portal that the Magea stepped through is still active and ready. Its glow is undiminished... where it leads is another story.
	Moving to the door, Kurt shuts and locks it. "Now, let's search this place before moving onward. Look for anything that may provide additional information on this case. Also, anything I point out will be magical one way or another." Kurt waves his hands across his eyes and throughout the room, "Energies of the spheres, energy of the weave show unto mine eyes." Kurt chants as he scans the room... then gasps slightly, "Damn near everything in here radiates magic. No surprise. However, even the floor and chair over there radiates magic." 
	Kurt points to four steel vials on the alchemist table, "Biren, grab those steel vials over there. They radiate magic and they are intact. I will attempt to figure what they are once we have the time. Right now, I am more concerned about finding Jurgen. We need to locate him before moving on." Kurt then begins searching for anything that looks like a scrying device.
	Biren speaks up for the first time. Catching some breath after hacking away at the mess of flesh and cleaning his sword, he nods to Kurt. "I agree. Jurgen may be needed if it comes to another fight. And by the way " grinning from ear to ear he looks straight at Deryn "You could have given me some more warning before just taking off and leaving me to hack at the creature." 
	As Biren teases her, Deryn tenses, then relaxes just a bit. Her sense of humor is somewhat suspect. "I'll keep that in mind," she remarks dryly. She rummages through her pack, producing several vials. She hands two to Biren, one to Kurt and keeps two. "You guys might want to drink those," she says, as she uncorks and swallows the first.
	Kurt hands Deryn back her healing potion, "Again, thank you but I am fine. You look like you need it more than I."
	"Whatever," Deryn says, then drinks the potion herself.
	Still smiling, Biren moves to follow Kurt's lead. Searching the room for anything useful, papers, and making sure to stay away from spilt liquids. "So do we find Jurgen or hope he finds us?"  Glancing at the portal, Biren's smile disappears "You know Shadowlark could be through that thing..." Biren simply trails off for a few seconds "on the other hand we could drop off a cliff."

	Kurt taps his chin in thought as his eyes continue to scan the room... "Hmmm...Not much else here worth taking. My only concern is to locate Jurgen." Kurt then sits on a chair that radiates magic to his eyes. Looking to the group, "I am open to suggestions. Do we wait a bit or do we search for Jurgen, in the process have to fight everyone in this place? Either way, we will most likely end up fighting." As Kurt waits for an answer, he starts inspecting the chair, trying to figure out why a chair would radiate magic.
	"I think we ought to find Jurgen," Deryn says. "If we've been attacked like this, gods only know what's been happening to him. And he's by himself."
	Kurt gets up, not able to figure out how to make the magical chair work. He looks to Deryn and nods in agreement, "Agreed. We must find Jurgen or at least make the attempt so we may know if he is still alive or possibly captured." Kurt then looks to Biren, "Let's head back down the staircase. We need to do a systematic search of this place." Walking to the door, "Let's go. Deryn if you do not mind, can you take point? As you have clearly stated before, you are the best armored for any possible dangers. Biren and I will follow right behind."
	"I don't mind," Deryn says. She twirls her maul about a bit and shrugs to get her armor set just right and starts down the stairs. Behind the group, the glow of the Mirror-Portal casts eerie, flickering shadows in the summoning/casting room. Biren keeps a close eye on the group's back. Something does not set right with the swashbuckling warrior. His instinct is to develop eyes in the back of his head.
	The group reaches the level they entered on without incident. Below are two more levels. Otherwise it is back the way they came. From below, the smell of ozone is still strong. Probablly after-effects of Kurt's lightning. Faint voices can be heard from the bottom-most level... male and female, in quick and indescernable conversation.
	Slowing to a snail's pace, Biren looks to the rest of the group, "Kurt, I think we should check this out, maybe they are talking about Jurgen. This time me or Kurt should go first, we make a little less noise than our metal clad friend. This may lead to Jurgen or we can start from square one. What shall it be?"
	Kurt looks to Biren and nods his head and points to the direction of the voices. Deryn also nods agreement and waits. She watches their backs, figuring Kurt and Biren have their fronts covered. Moving forward, Kurt follows Biren's lead to try to get close enough to hear what the voices are saying.
	A voice says, "Are they still up there?"
	"I be sure. No rumblings yet!" answers another. They both laugh.
	"True. Will they come down?"
	"'Course. Or in."
	There is the sound of footsteps, very light.
	"Ya, slave?"
	A third voice, female, young, with an elven accent: "My apologies great one. Someone has broken into the Lord's chamber. He wishes you to go and see what has been taken." Those same light footsteps, leaving.
	"Some work, finally."
	"Lets be goin' Carnan. We'll use da basement portal." By the noise, they are gathering up equipment, preparing to leave.
	Kurt grins at hearing the news. Motionning for Deryn to join them, he indicates the direction the voices headed off to, "Let's follow them. I have a strong gut feeling that our mission companion is there or was there." 
	Biren shrugs "Who else would break into this place at the same time as us ? It's got to be Jurgen." then with a glance towards Deryn "We may even be able to rescue your elven woman." Drawing his sword, and with a grimace on his face, "I say we go and fight as we move. No stands until we find Jurgen. They are obviously prepared for us, so let's do somethings a little unexpected. We move as quickly as we can, find Jurgen and make a stand, free enough of the slaves and that should make the difference. From what I remember about most elves..." Biren closes his eyes for a  second, taking a deep breath he continues "they are very proud. We start it, they will finish it, no more sneaking, any extra weapons go to slaves that look like they will fight."  
	"I will not use them as a diversion," Deryn says, her voice flat. "The weak must be protected." Her expression darkens as she adds, almost snarling, "Any other daemons or other foul creatures here must be destroyed."
	Bowing to the metal clad woman, "That my lady, is not what I meant. Simply said, would you not want to help yourself, if you had the chance ?.... I have been there and if someone was to try to save me, give me a dagger and I would have helped. These people are not meant as a distraction but I mean that we may help them to be free." Biren huffs a deep breath and turns his back to the woman. Hanging his head he whispers "I am sorry, but things are hitting close to home. Honestly, if it was me, I would prefer to help rather than have someone help me..." With that he trails off and quickly looks to Kurt with a fake smile "So shall we go or not?" Drawing his blade, "I insist on being first this time."
	Kurt looks to Deryn, "Again Deryn, you have to fall back a bit. The less noise the better for now." 
	Deryn nods her agreement, but doesn't look particularly happy about the request.
	"Let's go." Kurt moves to follow the voices while trying to stay out of sight.
	The two light-footed ones creep up to a room. Just in time to see the two figures dissappear into one of the Swirling Mirror Portals. Through it, they can see the two guards storm a richly appointed bedroom. One of them bumps into thin air. The first guard looks around as the second guard draws his weapon and shouts: "I hitted somethin'!! There be a magi or thief here. Get the door! I be callin' for help."
	"Well?" Deryn asks quietly. "If they're talking about us, we'd best shut them up."
	Kurt grins, "Indeed we must shut them up." With a slight bow and an extended arm pointing towards the mirror, "Ladies first. Particularly heavily armored ladies with large weapons." Kurt's smile turns serious as he goes through a mental inventory of his spells. 
	Deryn nods seriously, again seeming to fail to see the humor. Perhaps she just has some odd blind spots. She grips her maul tightly, ready to swing, and leaps through the portal. The leap is a conscious decision, knowing her landing will certainly attract the attention of the men whose voices they heard.
	Biren smiles, drawing his sword he slides through the portal behind Deryn.
	"Let's go and get the advantage of surprise here." Kurt then steps through the portal after Deryn and Biren.
	As they step into the room, a dagger sails pass them coming from the mirror! It passes just right of Kurt's ear and nearly takes a ricochet off of Deryn's armor. The dagger makes a metallic *Thunk* as it hits the wall with an impossible amount of force, driving it clean to the HILT in the wall: through a layer of wood veneer and into six inches of solid stone. Jurgen has joined the fray !


CHAPTER 8 - Heart of the matter

	The guard at the door stares in open mouthed silence as Deryn's maul descends upon him. The sound of his crackling shoulder bones fills the room. A small, satisfied smile plays across Deryn's lips as she crushes the man's shoulder. She grins nastily as she takes another swing. 'You're enjoying this entirely too much', she tells herself unconvincingly.
	Biren charges in behind the priestess, engaging the second guard. This man is also unprepared for what is about to happen to him. Biren slashes the man hard on the way by, but is met by his chain mail armor, deflecting the blow. Biren spins, graceful and deadly, landing a cut accross the man's midsection that brings blood from underneath the armor. The guard's eyes widen with pain and he backpedals into the wall, trying to ward off further attacks.
	Kurt stands ready, spells of destruction and confusion whirling through his mind.
	Suddenly Jurgen lands near the crimson mage. "Hey there, Kurt. Wouldn't happen to have something to quiet things down, would you ?" 
	Kurt glances at Jurgen and smiles, "Ah, you are back at last. The only way I can silence them is to take them out."
	Not taking the time to listen to the answer, Jurgen rolls past Deryn, his feet shooting out and impacting just below her opponent's knee, causing him to topple like a house of cards. The man attempts to stab Jurgen on the way down but the snake-fast rogue bats the sword aside... hard enough to bend it nearly double and send it smashing against the far wall of the chamber.
	The dumbfounded (and weaponless) guard is easy prey for Deryn... Her swing lands square on top of the guard's head, killing him instantly and spreading his mind all over the prone form of Jurgen in a spray of multi-colored gore. "Eeewww," Deryn says, looking down at Jurgen's gore-covered body. "That looks really nasty."
	The spray snaps Jurgen back from a somewhat dazed state. Looking away from the bent sword, his eyebrows return to a more narural looking elevation, "Uhhh, seem to have put on a few muscles while I wasn't looking..."
	The second guard, unaware of what has happened to his companion, takes a rapid thrust at Biren who dances around the attacks. With almost an abrubt stop in all his movement, Biren falls to one knee, arcing his bluish-silver blade across the midsection of his intended prey. Rolling to the side and getting back to his feet, he cleaves down onto the shoulder of the guard. Biren smiles "Shall we dance?"
	The guard, now bleeding from two places at once, tries to gather his defense, only to be confronted with Kurt's awesome magic: Kurt points to the guard while his other hand traces symbols in the air. He begins chanting, "Source of all power, darkness beyond twilight, shatter my foes with deadly force!" A trio of silvery bolts fly from Kurt's fingers, slamming the second guard into the ground. His ragged breaths signal a life that is quickly ending. 
	A few seconds pass and no others dare enter the room.
	Jurgen pops back to his feet, dusting brain from his leathers, "Well, too much to think the talk with lovely Arabella produced something, I suppose ?" The rogue gifts Deryn with a quizzical and somewhat surprised look, "'Eeewww' ?"
	By way of explanation, Deryn looks significantly at the spattered brain matter, makes a face and shrugs. Must be a girl thing. AS to the result of the meeting, no answer seems forthcoming.
	"Figured so. As it happen, met a lady on my side of things too." Jurgen steps through the mirror and lowers an elbow close to the ground. An whitish blur jumps on and settles on his shoulder. "Cheril, this is Kurt. Biren. and Deryn." 
	Sitting upon Jurgen's shoulders is a miniature white cat. The cat, other than being small, has all the attributes of a white, long-haired, house-cat. As Jurgen does his introduction, a voice enters into the minds of the investigators. "Pleasssed to make yourrr aquaintence..."
	With a big grin and a quick slap to Jurgen's back "Please to meet you my lady," bowing to the small feline "She is at least a little cuter than Raven."
	"Now, now. No need to be rough on the poor druid... Though I agree he wasn't quite the dresser you are." replies Jurgen, stiffling a grin of his own.
	Biren laughs looking down at his tattered shirt "Makes me look a little tougher don't you think ?"
	"That it does." Jurgen nods and continues, "Cheril says she's overheard some conversations between your lady and our blacky..." Stepping back through, Jurgen approaches the metal-clad priestess, "The rooms down there weren't too good. She's been limping..."
	Deryn clearly doesn't 'get it' for a moment. "You want me to invoke Helm's aid for.. what the hells is that thing anyway," she asks, "a pixie-cat?"
	If a two inches-long cat can look indignant, this one does... mortified as well. Her jaw works up and down in utter shock. A stammering reply comes accross the investigators' minds. "A.. A... Pixie Cat? I am a Bengalie, Priestesss of the One Who Watchesss! We have helpped moralsss keep theirrr grrround forrr millenia." The cat lets out a not-so-great sigh, "When sshal thiss wearr off, Jurrgen?"
	The rogue smiles, sharing a look with the white feline, "Don't worry. Should wear off pretty soon." Looking back to Deryn, "We had to shrink her a bit to fit the bars, you see... Why ? Helm more of a dog god ?"
	"I've never asked about His... preferences. A rather gaping hole in the seminary's educational system, I see," Deryn replies. She has that almost-smile that means she's amused, but far too busy being all Helmy to admit it. "Oh, well, then. Please except my apologies. Cheril, is it?" Deryn removes a gauntlet and holds her now bare hand directly beside the mini-cat. "I need to touch you to heal you," she explains. "Easiest I think if you just hop on."
	The small cat steps daintily accross from Jurgen onto Deryn's hand and Deryn begins to mutter softly, her blue eyes bright, almost glowing. "I beseech your aid, Helm, for this... feline guardian. Her people-- her cats have shown themselves worthy and she herself aids in our quest." A blue glow suffuses Deryn's hand and the mini-cat.
	After her first spell fades, the small cat seems to be doing quite well, the limp is gone and her fur is much brighter. "I thank you and yourrr god, priestess."
	"You're welcome," Deryn replies politely. "Where would you like me to put you until you... un-shrink?"
	"I'll rride with the darrrk one. He'ss been a good pillow." <cheshire smile>
	Jurgen looks a bit sour at that one, but accepts the furry package without commenting. "Anyway, I figure we bluff our way out. Walk out the front door, bold as brass. They wouldn't conk us in front of so many witnesses... Well, maybe they would, but hey- a little gambling never hurt anybody." Smirking, Jurgen moves his arm, each movement eliciting a corresponding jerk on the dagger in the wall, pulling it out bit by bit until it pops free and rejoins its sheet with a satisfied *chink*. "Unless you people have something better in mind ?"
	Kurt ignores most of what Jurgen says as he quickly looks from the fallen guards to the portal they just stepped through. "Now that we are together again, let us head back to the tower and hope that the portal the Lady Rala opened up is still activated.  I doubt she will be expecting us to have taken out her daemon so surprise may be on our side. I think this is our best chance of finding the source of the abductions. "Kurt then looks to Jurgen, "Any objections to following one Lady Mage of evil intentions?" Kurt then grins as he moves to stand by the portal. "Let's go unless someone has something unfinished here."
	Jurgen scratches his chin, "Uh, missing some bits here. Why do we want to chase an evil mage through one of her own portals ? Seems rather... foolhardy if you ask me. Even money it leads to her bedchambers anyway." He thumbs the mirror, "Like this one does."
	Kurt shrugs his shoulders, "Why Jurgen? Because Rala knew of us, knew we were hired by the King, and was expecting us with a very nasty daemon to play with us. As of this moment, she is a good lead plus she may think her pet daemon killed us hence giving us the surprise. I would rather take the fight to her than to let her find out her pet was destroyed, then pick at us with her magics, assassins and portals." 
	"So it's a capture gig. Hit her dead and bring her back to Whorlin. Makes sense, but the exit will be bloody hard, carrying her around... unless we're lucky enough to hold her hostage. That would be nice."


	Kurt then smiles, "As for fool hardy, I think coming here and fighting the family wizardress and house guards is pretty fool hardy as is. I am surprised the whole house has not taken up arms and come charging in search for us. Again, I say we risk the portal... Either that or attempt to fight our way out and then start from scratch in our search once more. Unless you have some gathered information that you have yet to tell us Jurgen?"
	"Well, got some interresting tidbits about the slave trade around here. Maybe enough to break the thing apart if handled properly. Only thread on our main problem is Cheril, but she wants to be out before she spills..." Looking a bit crosseyed at the cat, "Prospect of a wizard hunt change your mind, Cheril ?"
	"I would love to rrrip that She-Bitch limb frrrom limb. I have morrre interrest, howeverrr, in leaving herre alive. Yourr grroup, howeverrr, iss my besst chance."
	The man looks rather disapointed. He was obviously hoping Shaerrril's info would negate the need for the hunt entirely. Shrugging, Jurgen gestures to the swirling portal, "Greased sand in the hourglass, friends." Letting the others go in front since they know the way, he pats Biren on the back as he passes and smiles, happy to find him safe and sound. "Got to tell me the demon details over something cold. Quite a scrape I'd bet."
	Before following himself, Jurgen gives the two bodies the once over (He quickly graps the lead guard's heavy pouch and key ring. There are over a dozen keys on the key ring, many of them quite old. The pouch contains about 53 gold pieces in nearly perfect condition.), then trots hurriedly after the others. 'Useful stuff, keys. Money ain't bad either, of course.'

	Without another word, Kurt steps through the mirror portal and then waits on the other side for the rest of the group to follow. He looks to Biren, "Shall you take point? Lead us back to the mage tower and from there, we can see if that large portal is still open and active."
	Kurt then looks around and says outloud without shouting, "Raven, if you can hear me, rejoin our group as we may be stepping through yet another portal."
	The spiral stairs hold no peril beyond the still lingering smell of ozone. The summoning chamber is still empty, save for the splattered, still sizzling, body of the Daemon. The large Mirror glitters in its intensity.
	The Investigators quietly re-group, check their arms and spells, and prepare for the transition to the next plane. With Deryn leading, they step through in quick succession... Into a oppulent dining room. Walls of fitted stone soar nearly out of sight. Giant banners and tapestries hang with the weight of eons, their fading colors telling tales of great wars. A giant wooden table, oblong in shape, dominates the center of the room. High-backed chairs surround it. The table is clear and not set. Strange, arcane, symbols are heavily inlaid upon the wooden surface. Suits of armor stand guard in the corners of the huge room. The cavernous area also contains a dance floor, a stage, and benchs to rest weary nobles. A door leads to what must be a kitchen and a set of double doors lead out.
	The room is empty and strangely silent with the exception of the figure seated upon the largest chair at the head of the table. A lady, tall and auburn haired, in a flowing coathardie and gown. The acruments of magic hang from her belts and pouches. She lounges arrogantly in the large, throne-like chair, drumming her fingers impatiently. "I see you hath no use for doormen. Now, what do ye want of me? I warn thee... I am in foul tempers and am not for the hearing of a pitch of goods or another threat to my continued existance."

	Deryn performs a slight, respectful bow toward the woman. "Information," she said, not unkindly.

	Biren steps forward (leaving an opening between the mage and Kurt) looking as regal as anyone can in a tattered shirt, Biren bows quickly leaving his hand on the hilt of his sword. Looking around the room slowly he simply states "It seems that the ball isn't tonight and I wanted to dance." pausing he smiles, regarding the lounging woman with his deep green eyes he continues "We have come to talk, it seems a few things need to be discussed. It seems that you have been associated with a friend of ours and we are in dire need of finding him. We also wonder if you would be able to help us as you have helped him? Oh, yes and I would like to thank you for the wonderful hospitality you have shown us as your guests, my family will appreciate it."
	Kurt stands with his arms within the sleeves of his robes. Taking a step forward, he raises his hands with his palms facing out and fingers together, clearly showing that as a fellow mage, he is not intending any casting. "Lady Rala, as you know who we are, you must also know our reasons for being here. As my companions has said, we seek information that you may have answers too." Kurt then places his hands back in the folds of his sleeves. "Forgive us if we seem anxious, but the pet you left behind can do that to a person. Now if you are willing, we would like to ask you some questions then if things hold clean, we will leave." Kurt waits for an answer while staring right at the Lady Rala.

	Jurgen discreetly edges sideways, preparing himself for the coming fight. 'She a bit too calm for my taste. Shaerrril, I know you're still small but do you smell anybody besides us in here ?' Jurgen's brown eyes flick about nervously, trying to spot invisible guards, camouflaged arrowslits or the like. 'There better be something, else we're in trouble...'

	The lady sighs, arranges herself into a more comfortable position, and seems to settle in for the long haul. "Ye amuse me. I will play thy little game for a bit, I suppose." She waves a disinterested hand. "Ask thy questions."
	Kurt looks to Lady Rala and begins his questions, "Let us start by you telling us why? Why send assassins against us and why abduct the nobles? 
	The noble lady smiles sweetly... "My dear boy, by what authority dost thou question me? The authority of a lame-duck High King? His policies are too... progressive for many of us. We have taken to... a little manuevering to be sure that our way continues when he is gone. A little terror goes a long way."
	Unabated, Kurt continues, "I know you may not be a part of all this, but we do have something that may belong to you, so I must ask what is your part in all this? And surely a Lady of your stature and a mage in her own right does not need to hide behind false words."

	A nervous twich as Jurgen tenses back up to full readiness (he'd relaxed a bit when it appeared the target wanted to talk). 'Kurt sure likes to live dangerous.' At the same time, he finishes his quick assessment of the area. What he sees is a bit disturbing: while everything here seems to have an air of age and disuse, the 4 suits of armor guarding the four corners do not. They are gleaming and well-cared-for. They are armed with sword and shield, two handed sword, twin broadsword, and Great Warhammer. 
	Shaerrill communicates to Jurgen: "That armor sssmells foul."
	'Well, well.' Jurgen quietly attracts the attention of his companions not involved in the discussion and rolls his head to point out the four armors.

	Raucous laughter. "A golden tongue there, boy. I put forward whatever demeanor I choose. As for my part, I control the eastern end of this little venture. Not a small 
job, mind you. My father's empire serves me well here... you might serve me better by helping me, wouldn't you? It is so much cleaner than the next world."
	"For now, let us start with those questions and then we can go a step further."
	After her interruptions, the magi still feels in the mood to talk. "You have all the answers you are getting... but do you have any more questions? I must be polite."
	Kurt frowns at the answers of Lady Rala. "I am glad you admit your part in this and I am sure you understand that we must take you in or take you down. However, I too understand that you are a mage of power and that you are confident in your abilities to destroy us. So, since we are to do battle soon enough, will you be willing to tell us your partners? After all, if you do think you can defeat our team, then surely telling us your partners will not matter." 
	The lady mage laughs again, this time in pure, dripping sarcasm. "These are powerful times. I know not who your allies be or wether or not they are listening. I will assume unto the fact that they are. If thou destroy me, ask my soul! If you can findeth it."
	Kurt then taps his chin in thought... "One person does come to mind. Is the Ebon Hand one of your associates? If so, who else?"
	"Ah, that one shall I freely admit. He was my mentor and tutor." The lady stands up easily and seems to wait for the group to make the first move. She is relaxed, but somewhere in the discussion she has come up with a black wand. The tension grows like a fog upon the moors...
	'When you got to go...' In position for quite some times, Jurgen dives... and tackles the table! The things is an outright monstrosity, nearly 30 feet in diameter and weighing probably close to 1000lbs. The rogue gives it a hard shove, not really expecting his idea to work despite his new-found strength... But with a groan perpetrated by a century of sitting, the huge table virtually jumps at the Sorceress! Shocked but still reacting quickly, the Magi shouts a word and the table bounces off a magic shell, causing a huge crack to appear in its surface.
	Deryn delays the string of obscenities that spring to mind long enough to activate the Mace of Odo... holding it at the ready for now.
	Kurt blinks in surprise as Jurgen starts his sudden attack. Shaking the mood away, the red mage uses the distraction to his advantage, "Energies of the spheres, controlled by hand, bending to one's will, be free from contact!" As Kurt chants, he claps his hands together then spreads them open in a fan shape while wiggling his fingers: the magical shield protecting the Sorceress dissolves.
	Apparently unfazed, she leaps up onto the table and shouts a few words... The four suits of armor in the corners of the room spring to malevolent animation. One charges each of the four investigators.
	Trying to get around the table to the wizard, Biren is confronted by a suit of armor. He whips off a powerful attack at it, only to be deftly parried. The warrior snarls and strikes again, this time opening a small cut in the armor. Silvery magic begins to leak out.
	The magi laughs and points her wand towards the investigators...
	"You're fast, I'll give you that." Jurgen pushes off and begins to roll on the table top. But the wand dips down and belches a fit of fire magic into the center of the dagger-wielding rogue. The fire doesn't burn his clothing at all, but his skin quickly begins to blister as he is engulfed in an aura of flames. 
	With a cry of pain, Jurgen untucks and leaps, finishing the trip accross with a series of cartwheels and flips until he rolls at the sorceress' feet. "That *hurt* you know... Now be a good girl and go to sleep." As he rises, a folded limb springs out and turns like a windmill on its side, bringing a dagger crashing into the mage's temple, pommel first. <clang> Jurgen's strike is met by the armored hand of "his" construct, causing some small injury to the metal. "What the..."
	Deryn, trying to use her Mace of Odo on the magius, finds herself too tied up with the attacking suit of armor. Seeing no better opportunity, she slams her magical mace into the chest of the construct... a brilliant flash of pure light illuminates the hall for a moment, and a pile of disconnected plate mail slams into the ground. Deryn smiles with satisfaction as the mace vanishes with a flash. 
	Kurt quickly sides steps even further away from the group and turns to face the armor construct that is coming towards him. Again he quickly starts chanting, as his hands once again claps together before spreading open in a fan shape still wiggling his fingers... "Energies of the spheres, controlled by hand, bending to one's will, be free from contact!" Kurt, somehow managing to avoid the weapons of his animated foe, flings his magically disconnecting spell at the walking tin can. The spell does not do 
its normal job, but functions like a small fireball that blasts chunks of glowing magical vicara from the construct.
	Biren picks up a hard fighting match with the final armored attacker. Both are evenly matched, however, and do not land a telling blow. Biren grins, hoping that the others can hold their own for a few minutes. Spinning down to one knee he braces his arms, cleaving upwards with the pale blue sword. 
	The suit of armor, abnormally quick, still isn't as fast as the human warrior.
The first of Biren's strikes cleaves a great gout of glowing magic out of the armor,
along with a few chunks of metal. The construct manages to get a hard slash in under
Biren's guard, but he in turn slides back to his feet and slices a quick back hand towards the metal suit, seriously damaging his opponent.
	Deryn's grin widen's with Biren's success. She gestures and chants in a low voice. "So shut up," she says, finishing her casting. Deryn's spell interrupts the chanting mage with a wall of pure silence. With a shrug, the magius reaches into a pocket, and sends a small ball of 'stuff' flying in Deryn's direction.
	The wary priestess ducks out of the way as the ball explodes into millions of little pieces of steel shot arcing out in Deryn's direction. Deryn's armor is perferated, along with her body, in dozens of places.... she gets away easily. 
	Kurt raises his eyes in question as his spell takes on a different effect than what he intended. However, quickly snapping out of his thoughts, Kurt backs away from the armored construct that is closing in on him, stops and begins the words of yet another spell, "Light as a feather, forces of nature has no meaning!"  Kurt chants as his one open palm pushes up, while the other open palm pushes down, then both move, pushing back up. 
	The construct in front of kurt makes a quick, and short, ascent to the ceiling where it flails the air uselessly.
	Jurgen glares at the anormaly fast piece of tin, "Alright, let's play." With a twitch of the wrist, a blade leaps into his other hand. It flashes into a sideways cut into the soft flesh of the woman's arm while its twin rises towards her belly. But again, the strange construct facing Jurgen moves with unnatural speed. Now completely silent due to Deryn's spell, the clangs of Jurgen's daggers contacting steel palms go unheard. The Armor's hands are badly damaged by this point. It is missing several fingers but that hasn't slowed it down a bit.
	The magius begins manuevering out of Deryn's spell while digging out another ball... Without pause, Jurgen hops sideways, blocking her path and launching a low strike at the same time. Then two more as he advances on his target, sharp death before him.  

	Deryn growls and casts Mace of Odo once more as she moves forward, striking the mage.

	The man from Dongarten grins to her and makes a wry comment on his situation, the sheer genius and a-propos of which is lost forever in the bubble of silence. Shame really. <g>

	Kurt's face, serious from the battle, show signs of some relief as his spell grabs the animated armor and lifts it off the ground. Now free from battling the armor construct, Kurt turns his attention to the Lady Rala who is currently in the grips of silence. Without another thought, Kurt immediately goes into his next spell, "Shadows bend, darkness fears, dimensions brighten the darness within!" Left arm up in the air moving in little circles, Kurt points his right hand at Lady Rala's face. 
	Once done with his spell, Kurt then looks to the construct fighting Jurgen and the one fighting Biren and takes hold of his staff the he let stand alone by his side. Pointing his staff to the towards the battles, Kurt shout out..."Jerek!"

	Biren growls at the thought of another outfit being trashed. Biren spins to the left of the metal creature slicing downwards as he goes. As he comes of the spin, he allows his left hand to grasp the hilt of the dagger at his waist. Biren steps in close to the creature with a weak thrust from his dancing longsword.

FINAL BREAK

----------------------------------------------------------------
--NOTES--

DISAPEARANCES
Lady Melissa Argent del Lyon-Brette of Hanke: 1 week, very fat, Axe master
	Assailant wounded badly by axe, slash 5.5 feet off ground, Climbing boot print.
Lord Jeffory Kirkswald of Hanke (2 days)
Lord Shamus McKonnely (Presumed missing)

SUSPECTS
- High King's Strongest Enemy: Textile Lord Gregory Melesant, Melesant's Stronghold is in the outer city of Hanke. Rala Melesant (sister) is a powerful wizard. Assassins employed by Melesant are dark skinned and tatooed with a grey dagger on the left shoulder (Source=Pickled Penguin Bartender).
-The Ebon Hand and the Grey Assassin's Guild.
-Noble families: Melesant, Troubador, Enchantre, Walneck, Marioge, Dexter, L'Creiise

ALLIES
- Noble Families: Lyon-Brette, Kirkswald, McKonnely, McGregor, Shamus, Rathborn, Griffon, Argent.
- Sir Grennelous McKonnely and Lord Conrad Griffson McGregor (Barony of Asguard (near Fief Caldwell)). Would use violence for the king (Source=Whorlin)

Ebon Hand: He is rumored to be a wizard of great and evil power.

POSSIBLE SIDE-QUESTS
- Find out where Sallieb the merchant gets his merchandise (Magic Mine ?).
- Steal weapons from dwarven blacksmith in Hanke.

FAVORS AND DEBTS
- Raven brought the others to Jurgen's rescue. (Chap 4)
- Given Shadowlark and Biren 2 healing potions each. (Chap 3)

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--WORLD INFO--

WATCHERS OF HELM
They have the reputation of seeing all and hearing all. They are dedicated to justice, whatever that justice may be. Therefore, with their god-given powers of observation, they can be a big deterrant to crime in a city. They are, however, neutral and fair.

STORM AMULET
Envoy's of the High King generally carry a storm amulet. A purple amulet with a silver lightning bolt through it. They are rumored to be enchanted to prevent both lying and the receipt of a lie when close by.

SLAVERY
Slavery is not illegal, just immoral. It depends on the individual and kingdom. The High King is anti-slavery, but chooses not to -directly- act on it.

INTRODUCTION
The world of Zarous has a long and rich history: High Kings, Nobles, Thieves, Evil, and Monsters. In the cold and forbidding Northern Kingdoms, the High King sits upon his steel throne and reigns with a steady hand over the vast distances of his kingdom. However, deep in the bowels of his peaceful times, problems arise as bubbles upon the placid surface of a lake.
	The High King is not a young man anymore. His champions, the Knights of the Storm, do most of his peacekeeping for him. In his time of waning power, problems are arising. The greatest nobles who support the High King and his era of peace have been disappearing. The first to disappear was Lady Melissa Argent del Lyon-Brette. Soon after, High Lord Gregory Kirkswald was found missing. 
	The High King has become extremely agitated over the disappearance of his best supporters. He has formed a commission of veteran adventurers who are little mired in the realms of politics. He hopes that these Investigators can solve the mystery of his missing friends.

NORTHERN KINGDOM
The Northern Kingdoms is comprised of the area in the upper right hand of the map separated by the crescent shaped mountain range.) This includes the Ruins of High Keep, The Castle of Lord Hanck, The Ruins of Candle's Rest, Dwarves's Deep, Fief Caldwell, the city of Heather upon the Loche (5mi east of Fief Caldwell), Fief Dongarten, Behemoth, and Tower Dorken. [note: scale is 1inch = 90miles]

The Castle of Lord Hancke: The major player in the quest for the high kingship. Possessing of a huge army of humans, and a total human race-centered point of view, Hancke wishes to take the throne, and banish all other races from the Northern Kingdoms. (population 20k) The inn most well known in Hanke is the 'Fair Weather Soldier', a place of peaceful ownership and quiet night's sleep.
	- Atanasius "Smooth" Melat : Runs an illegal game of Fourpeg out of the back 
	  of a shop.
	- Kyla : Fairly successful prostitute.
	- The Vamps : Small gang of thugs from the poor quarters. They have an elven 
	  fetish.
	- Sileus Varen : Owner of the Bower's Wife. A tavern that's really 
	  a center for smuggling goods (both living and material).
	- "Roaring Rabbit" Connely : A religious nut with a penchant for 
	  conspiracy theories. Likes to rant on his corner, passing tracs and waving 
	  banners.
	- Judge Hamersteid : Notoriously corrupt judge whose gotten some 
	  of the family off in the past. <If there are no juges in your system, 
	  then he's a minor noble who sells his testimony.>
	- Snow ball : An enforcer in good standing with the local thieves guild.
	- Rori Orebinder : Dwarven apoticary, sells poisons and info on the side.

Fief Caldwell: A Scottish highland town nestled in the crags of the Lady's Lake. It is a peaceful home to all goodly races. It's population is about 10 thousand. It's major industries are fishing and mining. The ruler is King Lyon Caldwell the II, a powerful but fair man. Surrounding it are many small hamlets (less than 1000 total population per town), such as Heather upon the Loche and Antobury. Each hamlet/town is ruled by a territorial Baron. The fiefdom is well defended by the army of the king. Fief Caldwell opposes no other rulers but wishes to remain neutral until the high monarchy is restored. (population 15k including outlying areas)

Fief Dongarten: A german town of dubious reputation. Run by rogues and engineers and led by the intelligent, but vicious, Alexander Dongarten, this fief wars often upon its neighbors claiming its ruler as the rightful next high king. (population: 
30k)

Tower Dorken: The regional school of magic. Only the wizard knows what lies in the strange, lone tower in the middle of nowhere, but many speculate... (pop: unknown)

Dwarve's Deep: The underground mines and above/below ground homes of the mainstay of the region's dwarves. This is the center for commerce in hard goods. It is neutral of the political strife. The dwarfs deal in much metal work, making this the site of ALL weapon/armor commerce for the region. (Pop: 30k)

Behemoth: The free commonwealth of the farthest tip of the Northlands. (considered the 'tropics' by some) Mostly human, but with a high elven population, this city also contends for the throne, but by searching for the next blood kin to the old High King. Ruled by Roldolphin Mandolf, a powerful but secretive ruler, this city has no standing army but its citizens have kept it safe for generations. (population: 10k)

Ruins of Candle's Rest: There are many stories and farie tales about the suposed existance of an ancient library ruined in the Fall of Magic. Many have looked... few have returned.

The High City: Built to house the High King and his retainers and serve as court for the Northern Kingdoms, the High City is built high upon the crags overlooking the Lady's Lake. The city is dominated by the High Keep, a colossal structure built by the combined might of dwarf and man.  The High Keep has never been attacked or laid siege, but few doubt its capable build. Nearby to the High City lie the ruins of the first High Keep. This was built by the humans alone and fell victim to a monstrous siege.

Lady's Lake: The huge, freshwater Inland Sea that is the dominant feature of the area. The fishing is excellent, but the lake is a cruel mistress that claims many lives. A race of elves known as the Windward sail their entire lives upon the lake. They often defend fisherman and travelers against pirates.

Bridge of Souls: A bridge over the outlet of the Lady's Lake. It is a maginificient dwarven/elven/human construction spanning five miles of water by connecting the two sides of a canyon.

Mountain chains: The mountain range near Dwarf's Deep is called the HammerStone Mountains and they are famous for their mineral content. Also, near the ruins of Candle's Rest there is the Mountain of Wings. A creepy tale of sordid woe and winged death eminates from there.

The Great Chasm: A part of the landscape from the Fall of Magic. The site of the greatschool of magic, swallowed up bye the Gods during the fall. Now it is the entrance to the underdark...

The crater is rumored to have been created by a mystical duel between the Wizard Justin and the Druid John the Green. It is a place of wild magic now.

TIME LINE
1000 BF (before the fall): Age of Empires. The elves ruled the landscape.
100  BF: Age of Fools. The elves and humans war with magic over the advance of the
humans accross the lands.
0  The Fall of magic... 50years of magical chaos and mass destruction. 90% of the population of humans and demi-humans dies or are transfigured into monsters. All but a scattered few population centers are destroyed.
100 AZ (annum Zarous): The Age of Restoration. The Northern Kingdoms are established.
500 AZ: The trade pact between all the continent is established, the monstrous raids begin.
600 AZ: The Office of High King is established. The High City is constructed.
650 AZ: The rule of High King Andreaus the Mighty begins.
680 AZ: Peace is restored, the Monstrous raids are quelled.
700 AZ: The pact of the Dwarves is signed. Humans and dwarves begin working together.
700-800 AZ: Age of Grandeur
900 AZ: Magic Rises again. Wizards gain power.
1000 AZ: Age of Human Magic.
1030 AZ: The reign of the last High King of the Northlands begins: Dragon the First.
1075 AZ: The present (early spring). The first of The High King's supporters disappear.

RACES
Elves: Elves are the rarest and most secretive of the demi-human races. They were mostly wiped out during the fall of magic and, due to a low reproductive rate, have never recovered. Their strongpoint, however, is magic. No other wizard can match an elven wizard. The elves are an easy-going race believing that their long lifespan can allow them to out-live most troubles. Dwarves and Elves tolerate each other, but tend to have a deep-seated racial dislike. The elves prefer the forest, but can live anywhere. There are rumors of a Isle of the Elves where the elves retreated to during the fall of magic. Even the elves alive today view this as only a rumor.
	High Elves: The most common sub-race. They live to be easily 750 years old and reach adulthood at 110 years. High Elves are the most tolerant elves and can be found across the continent. High Elves gain +1 to Dexterity and -1 to constitution. 
	Grey Elves: Called the ancient ones even in the elven community. They are aloof and distant, preferring the ways of the scholar and the magi. They can live to be up to 2000 years old. An ancient Grey Elf could remember before the fall of magic. Grey elves tend not to understand humans well. Grey elves get +1 to intelligence and wisdom, -1 to strength and constitution. 
	Sylvan elves: The wild elves. The live to be up to 500 years old and reach adulthood at 50. They are very attuned with the land and nature… even the weave of magic itself. They understand humans, but cannot tolerate their destruction of nature. Sylvan elves and dwarves do not get along well. They get +1 to strength and constitution and -1 to wisdom. 
	Sea (moon) elves: Not a player character race, but are the elves of the Lake of Winds living on and in the waters. They are rarely seen and little is known about them in this time.

Dwarves: The dwarves of Zarous are a hard working industrial/engineering race. No one can build it better than a dwarf. Dwarven craftsmanship, magical and not, will last centuries. The dwarves prefer the hills and mountains of the central and northern regions of Zarous. The Northern Kingdoms boasts the home city of the dwarves: Dwarves Deep. Here is the manufacturing center of the continent. If it is made, it may be bought in the Great Market. The dwarves have created many of the wonders of the world including the Great Road and the Bridge of Souls.
	Hill dwarves: PHB dwarf exactly. 
	Rock dwarves: Rock dwarves eat rock. They are naturally tough, extremely gruff, and take things in their own time. They live to be about 600 years old. In old age, they simply begin to crumble away to nothing. Rock dwarves do eat vegetable and animal matter, but they must supplement their diet with mineral to stay alive. Rock dwarves gain a +2 to constitution and a +1 to strength. They loose 1 from dexterity and 2 from charisma. Rock dwarves are immune to natural poison and have a natural armor class of 8. Rock dwarves have an affinity for the elements of earth and fire and may be elementalists of those elements.

Gnomes: See the PHB. Liberally sprinkle in the idea that all Gnomes are tinkers and inventors (ala Dragonlance.)

Halflings: are not a PC race for this game.

Half-Elves: Half-elves are the union between an elf and a human as far as 2 generations back. (after that they become either full human or full elf) Half-elves are mis-understood by humans and are barely tolerated by elves. Dwarves seem to think they are the best elf out there. Half-Elves have whatever characteristics of their human and elven parents that the mix of genes allowed. Most half-elves are different from each other in appearance but many retain the ears, skin, and eye coloring of their elven parent.  Half-Elves have a great tendency to be magi being as the lust of their human parent mixed with the magical talent of their elven parent makes them susceptible to studying fast and hard to master magic. Unfortunately, however, the pressures of society can turn many half-elves to evil.

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--CHARACTER DIRECTORY--

DM, "Theron Rutyna" <ttrutyna@hotmail.com>

Biren D'Orcit (Swashbuckler) - "Jason Muise" <j_muise1@STMARYS.CA>
	A thin young man with light brown hair and dazzling green eyes, stands in a flurry of motions and bows before you, removing his feathered hat, he smiles at you with a broad warm smile.    
	The figure is elegantly clad, with finely tailored black pants, belted with a dark blue sash, a thin white shirt that seems to float off of him covers his upper body.  A thick dark blue cloak hangs from his neck with a thin silver clasps.  A thin longsword hangs at his side, its hilt pure white with a blue leather grip.  On his right hand a simple silver ring adorns his thumb.
	Rides Archibald (large black stallion).

Deryn (Priestess of Helm) - Introduced in chapter 5 : "Julie D" <neko@wt.net>
          A stunning figure in fluted and decorated field plate armor. She stands 5’8’’ and cannot weigh more than a feather, although the ease of her stance would suggest more. She holds an open-faced helm in her gauntleted hands and the breastplate of her very highly polished armor boasts an elaborate rendering of Helm's symbol. The pupil in the symbol the same dark blue as the woman's eyes.
	Rides Balin (large black stallion)

Jurgen Closterwitch (Fighter/Thief) - "Frederic Fleury" <fred.fleury@mailcity.com>
	A dark haired, brown eyed man in his twenties. He's fairly muscled under his dark brown leathers and dark gray cloak (with a simple bronze clasp), a light rope is coiled diagonally around his chest. His hands are large, his jaw square, his skin slightly weatherworn and he speaks with a Dongarten accent.
	Rides Peasant Uprising, Formerly Lynn (Beige mare with spots)

Jytamil (Elven Ranger)- "Don and Karen McIver" <dmciver@maranatha.net>
	A male elf of medium height, strawberry blond hair, fairly lean (but then again, elves are anyway), and you notice that his eyes are gray. He currently wears a simple forest green leather outfit, with a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. You also see that he handles his bow with a bit more than fair competence. He seems to pick up every visual detail that is presented, but it is obvious he is starting to get lost in the cross wind of 7 different 7 way of conversations.

Kurt Crimsonheart (Battle Mage) - "Francisco Gumataotao" <getsome@netpci.com>
	Kurt has short brown hair that is box cut and spiked.  His eyes are dark brown and his face has light stubble from a closely cut beard.  Kurt is of medium build, not overly muscular but not bone thin either.  He wears a blood red robe with silver runes stitched into the edges of the sleeves.  His robe falls down to his knees so you can see that his pants are tan and tucked into knee high brown cloth boots.  He wears a longsword over his back with the handle over his right shoulder, and a leather bag on his left hip with the strap going across his chest to sit on his right shoulder.  Under the edges of his sleeve cuffs, you can also see that Kurt wears silver red bracers with some runes on it.  On each hand he wears red gloves with the finger sleeves cut off.  
	Also, Kurt wears two daggers on each hip and a finely crafted dagger inside his right robe sleeve.  Kurt is a young man in his twenties and he is handsome.
	Rides Old Man (a proud stallion with a reddish brown coat)

Raven Shadowlark (Half-elf Druid/Mage) - "Marie Lairre" <marie_lairre@yahoo.com> 
                                       - "John D'Agosta" <Shadowheart@cio.net>
	Raven is a small, slender man who is nonetheless remarkable in appearance. Long, straight dark hair frames a exotic, masculine face. On careful examination one will note his ears rise to a slight point, revealing his partly elven heritage. His eyes are a soft, pale blue full of intelligence and compassion. He wears simple brown robes and sandals and carries a plain staff with him and there is no other sign of weaponry. He wears a simple cord around his neck from which hangs a wooden carving of a tree.
	Rides a gray magical horse.