~ The Dwarven Blockade: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Breathing a sigh of relief, Emma's shoulders droop a little as she relaxes and tilts her head back to look up into the sky. The sight of Nire's first stars greet her once more and she's struck by the realization that Anhur wasn't the only one guiding her tonight. The thought brings a smile to her face and she mentally thanks both of the gods for their aid. Towers would probably disapprove, but she doesn't care at that particular moment. He and the other elder members of the caste never agree with her personal philosophy anyway. And, that disappoints her in many ways and Towers seems particularly disappointing of late.

'But no one's perfect,' she mentally reminds herself, 'Not you, not Rinder's Six, and not even Anhur's own high priest...'

Hannibal rises slowly and weakly to his feet, two major cuts bleeding freely on his body. Staggering to where the last Drow now lay, he proceeds to kick the creature repeatedly, the pains of his wounds he takes out on the dead form.

Startled by his actions, Emma's reverie is broken and she stops looking at the sky to refocus on the situation around her. "Hannibal," she softly says, reaching out a hand to touch the thief's arm. She assumes his anger, fear, and the adrenaline-rush have gotten the better of him.

Hannibal continues beating the dead creature until Emma stops him, at which point he collapses weakly on the steps of the temple next to the drow. "Tell your buddies back home, nobody messes with Rinder's!" he says weakly, not really addressing the Drow's body rather than just making a statement.

The priestess smiles grimly and turns away from Hannibal to regard the panther-spirit. She reaches down to stroke its head, thankful that Anhur heard her call for assistance and sent such a powerful ally. 'Search the rest of the area for any others,' she mentally commands, knowing that its time on this plane of existence is limited, 'And see if you can track their scent enough to tell what direction they came from...but don't go too far away from us...just return to show me.' She fondly pats its side and says aloud, "And thank you."

Without hesitation, the panther licks Emma's hand and then sprints off down the steps, creeping in and out of the night's shadows in its brief search of the area.

Crayne, as he lowers to the ground, smiles to himself for a small moment. He had always dream't of being up there above the land and now it had happened Crayne was quite delighted. With his increasing skill in the arts of magic he knew it wouldn't be long before he could actually go that stage further and actually fly over the lands of Rinder. Dusting himself off, Crayne makes his way to the Temple. His arm is bloody and at the moment he is feeling quite faint. He was getting fed up of people just attacking him. Did it mean nothing to these people to attack a mage just outside a temple of Anhur? Will these people never learn? Crayne questions himself.

Crayne then smiles again as he looks at his staff clutching it proudly. Quite a handy commodity, Crayne acknowledges. One certainly to come in very handy in the future.

Canter exhales slowly as he lowers himself to the temple steps. He follows Crayne's movements with his eyes, noticing how the mage takes a special moment to address his magical staff. Then, with a smile, his gaze wanders to his friend Hannibal, glad to see that the thief had survived the encounter.

Naeron winces in pain as the adrenaline of battle wears off. He knows that he had the narrowest escape of his life and has the priestess to thank, and her god, of course. He turns to her. "You are a mighty warrior if ever one walked these streets! I thank you for your courage. I..." He starts to say more, then doubles over with the pain of his wounds and sits with a clumsy thud on the steps. "I think I have lost a bit of blood..."

Emma looks back and forth between the diplomat, Hannibal, and even Crayne as he approaches them up the steps. "I'd say you've all lost some blood," she says. Motioning at the priests and Towers standing at the top of the steps, she calls them down and says, "My friends were injured. Please...help me see to their wounds."

Then she crouches down next to Naeron. "I'm only as mighty as Anhur allows me to be, Naeron," she explains to the half-elf, "He works through me as long as I'm faithful to him." She then calls upon Anhur's aid once more. "Heal this warrior, O'Anhur," she asks aloud, "For he has honorably defended himself and his friends upon the doorstep of your temple..."

Then she moves over to Hannibal and takes a moment to look into his eyes to make sure he's mentally okay. "Not to worry, Hannibal," she tells him, "Anhur watches over us, and he will ease your pain." It's hard to tell if she means his physical pains or the emotional turmoil that has plagued his life. She simply smiles and prays once more, laying her hands upon him.

Rising to her feet, she finally reaches out to Crayne and tells him that she's exhausted, but the other priests should be able to see to him and his wounds. Then her eyes search the group once more as Canter comes up the steps, too. Her gaze finally drops to the dead Drow lying nearby.

"Where did they come from?" she asks aloud, clearly curious as to why the battle took place, "And why did they attack you? And what are they?"

Just then the panther spirit returns to Emma's side, licking at her palm as if to indicate that he found no other hostile creatures nearby. With a smile, Emma looks down to the spirit and runs her fingers through its hair. As she does, the spirit begins to fade into the darkness of the night, and soon the spirit is gone.

It is then that Crayne reaches the rest of the group. Crayne looks a little annoyed at Naeron. His diplomatic skills were not a high point Crayne now acknowledged. There was far too much fire in his belly for Craynes liking. Fire was good, Crayne agreed, but to use it at the most inopportune moment was risky. Then looking to Canter and Hannibal, Crayne smiles.

"You fought bravely! And thank you Hannibal for covering me! Now that Storm isn't here to cover my back you stepped in with a great promptness. I thank you for it! I only wish that my magic might have had more effect on those villains. Perhaps it is something I must ponder in the future. For we have made a new enemy it seems and thus I must think and evaluate their greater weaknesses and how to look for them

next time. Let us search these mongrels and see whether they carry anything of worth. Any emblem or symbol might be of assistance. If my memory serves me right Dark Elves usually serve large powerful houses. It will be interesting to note whether they all come from the same House. Also, let us see if they carry poison. For they are known for it so be careful. If you do see anything let me know!"

Hannibal nods to the Mage, amazed at how close he and Crayne had become in such a short time. "Your powers are growing Wizard," he states plainly through pained gasps, "It's good to have you as an ally."

Emma hears Crayne's praise for Hannibal's timely defense and smiles inwardly. 'Edryd and Cy would be proud of us,' she thinks to herself, 'Rinder's Six is finally becoming a veteran unit. We're starting to anticipate one another's actions and needs in combat...something that only comes with experience and trust.'

"And you lady Emma," Hannibal says, turning to the shield maiden with a smile. "Again your courage and valor surprises me, as always it is an honor to have you as a friend." With a comic smile now, a smile he had not felt in some time, he waves her in closer. "Now how about helping me out before I bleed to death on the steps of your church? I don't think your god would approve if you just let me die like this...would he?" He states the last part as a confused question before chuckling a bit to himself.

Suddenly he missed Storm's dry sense of humor.

With a calm smile, Emma replies, "I've spent my healing powers on you already, but I am sure the other clerics inside will gladly bandage your wounds."

Crayne then moves up to approach Lady Emma, "It is good that you heard my call Lady Emma! Your assistance was again quite astounding. You grow strong with Anhur. Anhur can see that you are a most worthy student and rewards you well for it."

Crayne then looks to Towers and nods. "You will do well to notice her, Towers. For she will become one of the strongest! Of that I have little doubt!"

The priestess tries her best to stay humble, but can't help but smile with the elation of the victory, especially in front of High Priest Towers. "In defense of my friends and countrymen, Anhur does indeed grant me strength," she says, "But in truth, it is his and not my own. And, don't underestimate your own value, Highbrow. I only serve to complement your skills and those of the others. These dark attackers of yours seemed well-organized. I've never seen their like before, and I'm sure it took some astounding strength of your own to fend them off. How did the battle come to take place? Towers and I finished the Communion and when we came back to his office, you had all disappeared...and it was Fallon that brought news to us that you had come outside. If not for him, I would have never heard your call...so what happened?"

Crayne nods, expecting her question, "Well! Having been notified by one of your associates that somebody was waiting outside for us demanding our presence it was natural that we go and investigate. On entering into the street we were met by these four robed figures who we later learned to be Drow. Having addressed me as Crayne of Mistledale without any introduction they demanded that we drop our current quest. I presume from that that they referred to the purchasing of the adamantine ore. There was little time for me to try and enquire as to why they would make such a request before they launched their attack upon us. Quite uncivilised if I do say so myself! What provoked them into this demand I can only guess. Perhaps it was them that have been behind Bernigan's offer. For they do make use of the adamantine we can see that!"

Crayne says as he looks at the Dark Elves broken forms, "I am more than sure that the dwarves will find this interesting if their adamantine is being mined within their vacinity by the Dark Elves. I am more than sure that they would not take kindly to that at all, especially if they happened to find out that it was Dark Elves that were behind Bernigan's offer! There are indeed many possibilities but that one stands out at the moment!"

"Drow?" Emma asks aloud, "I'm afraid I've never heard of them before. Dark Elves? Yes, they certainly do bear a resemblance to Naeron's distant kinsmen, I suppose. Where do they come from? Why haven't I seen one before? Have I been sequestered in the temple libraries for so long that I don't even recognize the races of Rinder anymore?"

"Not to worry, priestess," Canter says, rising from his seat on the steps and placing a hand on Emma's shoulder. "I have never encountered these kind, either. Though I had heard of them in folk tales and children's stories. I will go and search them for any clues as to their true motives and identities."

Crayne then turns back to Emma clutching his arm as another bout of pain rockets through it. "Now Emma you must tell me! What of your Commune? What have you learnt?"

"Many things...," Emma says, "A great many things. Come inside and let the priests tend to your wounds and I'll reveal the answers that Anhur has given to us..."

Crayne nods as he clutches his arm. Blood now begins to pour through his fingers and drip along the ground. Crayne does his best to clutch his arm in a way so as to stop the bleeding. He feels a little ashamed as he sees blood begin to drip on the Temples marble floors. Crayne rubs his eye and then settles down to listen to Emma's findings.

Emma looks back and sees Crayne worrying over the blood dripping in the hallway and she smiles. "Not to worry, Highbrow," she tells him, "If there's ever a temple where a bloody mess isn't frowned upon, it would be that of the god of Wars. Anhur's servants often come and go bearing wounds of one kind or another. To some, it's an honorable thing to bleed freely when you've defended a just cause. But we'll get your arm bound as soon as we can. There's no sense in letting any of you bleed to death."

Joining the others as they finish ascending the steps and heading into the confines of the temple, Canter reports his findings. "They all had this emblem sewn into their robes, just above the left breast. It is too small, and the night was too dark to notice it before, but now we can see it plainly. I have ripped this one out of one of the robes for us to take with us. In case we ever meet them again."

He holds the piece of torn fabric out for all to see. Two gold rings interlocking, finely stitched into the fabric. "Curious, isn't it?" Canter continues, "still, it was on every one of their robes. And I'm sorry, but I could find no poison. My guess is they intended first to scare us off, then just to kill us with their swords."

Once the party has moved into the temple again, Emma takes a seat and speaks clearly about the Communion. "Paros is indeed a renegade mage of the Red Dragon School...," she confirms, "He is allied with the forces of Caerloon, though the Baron General Wade the Fourth is not directly involved in his scheme. Paros is intentionally hindering the efforts of negotiating a peaceful settlement with the Dwarves of the Raimead Mountains. He does so through guile and trickery...not by resorting to his magic to charm Sir Duke Bryant into ignoring the situation."

Crayne smiles as he hears this. He had been so sure merely through a gut feeling and look at the results it had rendered. To have such a gift it seemed was of value and perhaps could be used to a greater extent in the future. It seemed a little spiritual to him and he had always believed that he did posses some sort of hidden power in, shall we say, picking up things about people that others could not see. Some sort of strange psychic phenomenon which enabled him to perhaps read an aura or learn some piece of information through a strange channel. This had happened to him before and he was fast becoming to believe that it wasn't mere coincidence, that it was fate and that he did have some sort of gift that he couldn't put his finger on.

Emma continues, "Anhur revealed that there is an arrangement between Paros and Bernigan, Duke Marlond's diplomat," she continues, "I suspect that Paros relies upon him to influence the Dwarves while he does the same thing on Bryant's end of the conflict. We are not strong enough to obtain evidence of this arrangement by simply searching the wizard's chambers. To do so would be foolhardy in Anhur's eyes. Anhur also believes that the ring of Crayne's uncle Karelth, could provide assistance in eventually bringing down Paros, but we probably shouldn't pin all of our hopes on that..."

"Indeed! Interesting!" Crayne clasps his hands and then looks to Hannibal, "Perhaps, my friend, Paros didn't like how we confronted him and quickly asked these drow to rid himself of a problem. It seems he underestimated us if he did!"

"If so, he didn't underestimate us by much and Cy would probably tell us all rather angrily that we need to start anticipating this kind of thing," Emma cautions. "We need to be on our toes. We're dealing with dangerous and powerful people. If they ever turn their focused attention our way, we'll quickly cease to be a thorn in their side if we're caught unprepared.

"I'm wondering though, would these Drow have allied themselves with a renegade Red Dragon wizard?" she asks curiously, "Where do their allegiances typically lie?

"We might have better luck at resolving this conflict if we try to investigate Bernigan and his connections to the Blood Clan," she suggests, "At least Anhur feels that such a course of action stands a better chance of succeeding than facing Paros directly at this time. Anhur also revealed to us that the Dwarves did not slay the Knight of Rinder whose death was reported to Bryant. It was the hand of Bernigan and his Blood Clan allies. If we can at least prove that much, it should open Bryant's eyes to a much larger conspiracy. We will be walking a fine line though if we fail to somehow tie Paros to Bernigan when we make that accusation. Anything less will make us a target for interfering with the wizard's plans."

She folds her hands and looks to Towers, the high priest. "Before Fallon came and interrupted us about his concern for all of you," she says, "Towers suggested some possible courses of action that we could take. If we want to uncover evidence that will prove Paros' involvement, it might be wise to see if he has any apprentices. That could be his weak link. If he has entrusted any of his plans with one of them, we might stand a better chance of getting such information by interrogating them instead. Failing that, we could enlist the aid of another powerful wizard to assist us...a rival perhaps? Or maybe Dire Luthor could be convinced to help us again? Lastly, I believe Towers had one other idea...an item of some kind...something you were looking for in one of your books, correct?" She looks at Towers expectantly, awaiting his reply on that unfinished matter.

Crayne smiles, "Interesting! I suggest we leave Paros for the moment. For we have nothing at all at the moment that points a finger at him! I believe that Bernigan is the key. He is the weak link! Now that we know that he is connected to Paros directly, through him I am more than sure that we can get at Paros. At the moment it is too early to call upon Dire for I am more than sure that his duties at the moment are massive defending Rinder's border against the tidal wave of evil that approaches from the south. He has enough on his plate. Besides, we are all growing and believe that we all might well be strong enough to face anything that he can put up against us! What we must now do though is make sure that this treaty is renewed with the dwarves and that Bernigan be dealt with. That, I believe is our first priority."

Emma worries inwardly a bit at Crayne's growing confidence in his skills and those of Rinder's Six. She realizes that they have all become more powerful, especially when working together, but she fears that the Highbrow may boldly challenge Paros before they are ready to deal with him. Hearing him suggest that they tackle Bernigan first brings a welcome relief to those fears for the moment.

"Agreed," she says, "Dire is certainly too far away and too busy to help us. Paros is too powerful for us to face alone. But, Bernigan is within the realm of possibility...and I'm sure Hannibal would dearly love to tackle that project first. I'd also like to see if these Drow can be traced to him, and, as you suggest Crayne, maybe they are the buyers that back his plans. The Dwarves are undoubtedly in the dark regarding who the adamantine ore actually goes to...and Bernigan did say that his liege, the Duke of Marlond, was not the benefactor. You know more about the Drow than I do, so if you think this is a possibility, let's investigate it and reveal the truth to the Dwarves."

Crayne pauses for a moment and then turns to Naeron, "Naeron, perhaps it would be possible to speak with one your acquaintances and ask them to keep an eye on Paros and try and learn all that they can about him. Who he speaks with. Whether he has any apprentices? And the like! It may render us benefits in the future!"

"Good call, mage, but I think it will be the calling in of the last of my favors for a while." Naeron smiles darkly. "It would be the end of a career to be caught tailing Paros, especially on our demand... I will ask, though." At his first opportunity, he will ask his friend, the Capt. of the Guard, Gladstone, to keep an eye on Paros as a personal favor, without letting on...

"Perhaps it would be better to ask your contacts to only tail those that Paros speaks with, Naeron...not the wizard himself," Emma suggests, "That way Paros stands less a chance of endangering your career because it will be harder for him to learn of your actions. If your contacts can tell us of an apprentice...and that apprentice's actions...it could still give us enough clues to learn what Paros is up to."

Finally, Emma looks around the room and begins to wrap up her report. "Ultimately, I can tell all of you that Anhur is very pleased with our efforts so far," she announces, "I asked him that question directly and he is not only aware of what we've accomplished, but he is happy that we have done everything with the proper conviction and commitment to justice. He recommends that Sir Duke Bryant will indeed make the best King for Rinder and the future of our people. We should dedicate ourselves to safeguarding his life and removing this deceitful Paros that whispers lies in his ears. And, lastly, Anhur gives us this bit of wisdom on the brewing war: There will come a time when we must take the offensive against our enemies. We can only defend for so long before we are worn down. If we wish to win, we need to start taking the fight to them. Only then can we assure ourselves and our people of peace."

Then she realizes that in the heat of the conversation, Towers never had a chance to respond to her question. What was the item that he was going to suggest? "Towers?" she asks plainly, and all heads quickly turn on the High Priest, "do you care to share your suggestion now?"

With a slight nod, the High Priest rises from his seat on a nearby pew, the ancient book in hand. He carefully turns a few of the pages, being sure not to tear the ancient parchment, until finally he stops. "Oh, yes..." he begins, reading and nodding slowly. "Mage Crayne," he says suddenly, looking up from the text, "your uncle possesses a ring, yes?"

Crayne is at first startled, wondering how this priest knew of his uncle's ring when for so many years he himself--Karelth's own nephew--did not know if it! But sensing the importance of the moment, he forgoes the tempting challenge he would make, and instead simply replies, "Yes..."

"Of course, and you are aware that this ring possesses some magical properties?"

Crayne nods, wondering where this line of reasoning is going.

"But you are unsure of what exactly those magical properties are. I understand. Allow me to enlighten you, as I have been enlightened by the almighty god of the War."

Towers stops pacing, turning to face the party directly while addressing them. "The ring your uncle carries was specially forged many centuries ago by a great wizard. It is one of a set of such rings, each imbued with a specific power over the elements. The one your uncle has allows the wearer great control over the element of water."

A smile begins to creep across Crayne's face as he begins to realize the great power this ring contains.

"But," Towers warns, raising a finger, "the ring must be handled correctly, for its great power can be very useful but also very dangerous."

"You say it is one of a set?" Naeron asks.

"Yes, one of four. You see this great and powerful wizard crafted one ring for each of the elements: Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water. Upon the wizard's death, the rings were scattered, and each has a history which could fill many tomes. Now I am unsure of how your uncle came into possession of the Ring of Water Command, Crayne, but for the moment history is not our concern.

"You see, when these rings are used in tandem, that is, their power combined, the result is greater than the sum of its parts. One ring alone might not be powerful enough to combat the wizard Paros, especially if he has enchanted items at his own disposal. But combine two of these rings, and the power may be significant enough."

"What happens, Towers, when all four are brought together?" Canter asks, his curiosity heightened.

Towers then allows a grim look to wash over his face. "Let us pray the gods are in agreement. Should the day arrive when all four are brought together, let us hope that he who holds the rings has the wisdom to use that awesome power justly. For should they all fall into the wrong hands, our realm could be doomed to eternal suffering."

Towers looks down to Emma, whose face is intense with listening. He can read it plainly on her face: she wanted to know more. So he continues, "He who can control all of the elements commands unspeakable power. Some scholars say that this power is enough to control the gods themselves. Others say that upon assembling the rings, he will be judged by the gods. If that judgement is favorable, then the power is his. If the judgements is not, then he and his realm will be made to suffer for four millennia, and rings are once again scattered to the four corners of our world."

"If my uncle was attacked by members of the Red Dragon School, and they were looking for the Ring of Water Command..." Crayne begins.

"...Could they be attempting to combine the four?" Hannibal finishes the mage's sentence.

"Woe be that day," Towers says grimly.

"But Towers," Emma asks, "what suggestion to do you bring?"

Towers nods, returning to his book. "This old translation of an ancient text describes the final resting place of one of the rings, the Ring of Fire Command. Few have ever read this ancient text. Indeed, only the High Priests of Anhur know of its existence--not even the other Castes. We have, in the past, sent a few warriors out in search of this device, but those searches ended in failure, and ultimately the death of the warriors.

"It is my personal belief," Towers continues, taking a moment to look into the eyes of all present, "that our failures to recover the ring in the past have been due not to the weakness of the warriors, but to the determination of Anhur: the time was not right. But now, I believe, the time is right. With the war brewing to the south, and the integrity of our new king--one whom Anhur himself tells us he would have chosen--threatened, I believe the moment is prime. And what's more, I believe that in the past we have been mistaken. We have sent but one warrior when we should have sent a party of diverse, skilled warriors."

He then looks directly at Emma. "With Emmalya of Serralund alongside you, Rinder's Six, to provide the wisdom of Anhur, I believe you stand the greatest chance we have of recovering this magical ring."

There is silence for a moment as Towers looks at Emma. Canter exchanges glances with Nearon and Hannibal, as Crayne keeps his eye on the intense stare the High Priest gives to Emma.

"If you choose to accept this quest," Towers continues, his voice calm and controlled, "you may be able to find this ring and return it safely to the Caste, where it will be guarded for time immemorial. In return, you will be able to use its power, along with the power of the ring Crayne's uncle holds, to defeat Paros and ensure the smooth ascension of King Bryant."

Emma gulps, knowing that the quest in front of her and her comrades resembles some of the greatest quests in the Scrolls of Anhur. How could she possibly measure up to the greatness of those heroes?

"It will surely not be easy," Towers says, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder. "You will need to rely on the skills of your friends." He then steps back, addressing everyone. "You will all need to rely on each other, for I believe alone you will fail. There will undoubtedly be many challenges you will face, and time is of the essence, for with each passing day the war sinks deeper into the depths of defeat, and Paros' hold on Bryant is strengthened. But if you succeed, it will be one of the greatest victories of our time, indeed, all of time."

Storm peers into the distance at the approaching dust cloud. He makes a snap decision of whether or not he has enough time to switch into his chain mail, as he figures he won't need his thieving skills in such a wide-open environment. Deciding he does have enough time, he kneels and changes into the heavier armor.

Once that decision is made and acted upon, Storm grasps up his still-unfamiliar bow and steps near Cy and in front of Karelth, protecting the older man from whatever might be coming. He knocks an arrow like Cy does, glancing at the proud warrior to see if he can steal any pointers in form as he prepares to shoot. He notices the warrior aiming high into the air. Storm, who had his bow trained in a straight line away from him, can't figure out why, but tilts his bow up, too, to give the impression he knows what he's doing. "Aye, me should have gotten me a dwarven crossbow. Them's be much better than these darn thingies." He mumbles.

Storm lets Cy take the lead in any discussions, telling himself only to lower his weapon when Cy does, or attack when Cy does or when they're obviously being attacked. If these riders are hostile, he thinks to himself, he will retaliate with his normal rage.

Cy nods as the newly armored Storm rises along side him. And he can feel Karelth's nervousness behind him as the older mage paces back and forth, shifting his weight from right to left and back to right.

As it grows closer and larger, Cy steadies himself, closing one eye and aiming at the lead rider. The moment is tense, and soon the rhythmic pounding of the horse's hooves upon the dusty night's road is overpowering.

"Halt and identify yourselves!" Cy orders, his voice carrying over the horses.

The lead rider slows, and those that follow do as well. Then, slowly, the lead rider directs his mount closer to Cy, Storm, and Karelth. In the night's darkness it is difficult to see him clearly, but he is definitely human, tall, and armored.

"I am Sir Jornek of the Knights of Rinder, loyal servant of King Bryant of the Great House of Raimead! Identify yourself!" the rider shouts back down to the three figures below him.

Cy slowly lowers his bow, and Storm follows tentatively. "Jornek," Cy announces. "It is good to hear that name. I am Cyveiliog McKinely, and these are my associates Storm and Karelth. We are of Rinder's Six, and I believe we are acquainted." Cy steps closer to Jornek's mount.

"Torch!" Jornek orders, and almost instantly, he is handed a lit torch. Holding it out in front of him, the dark orange flickering light of the flame reflects off of Cy's war-hardened face. Jornek inspects that battle-scarred face, then looks to Karelth, and finally to Storm.

"Yes, of course," he finally says. Karelth breathes an audible sigh of relief. "It is good to see you again, Cyveiliog, and Storm. And especially good, considering it is you whom we have been looking for."

Storm cocks his head to the side, suddenly very confused.

"The King has requested your presence, Cyveiliog," the knight continues. "I am to see to it that you and your party are returned to Parton. Will you ride with us?"

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