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When the opportunity presents itself, Skandor steps forward and asks Jordice a few questions, seeing Emma and Crayne allowing him to do so: "You say that you were supposed to meet Bernigan. Obviously you didn't, so would he suspect you to have betrayed him, perhaps? Did he have an alternate plan? Would he change his plan had he known that you, someone of great...knowledge in his affairs, was captured? Did he have a secondary plan, or route, perhaps a secondary meeting place set up?"

Emma nods to herself as she watches Jordice answer the paladin's questions. 'It feels good to have another Sword-Bearer with me,' she thinks, 'It takes away a lot of the pressure to try and fill Edryd's shoes...'

"Hey," Jordice replies, shaking his head in feigned exasperation, "I said I was stupid for a few minutes last night. What do you think of me? A bumbling fool like these idiots in this temple? I got word that one of my Attenders was down, so I sent the messenger on to inform Bernigan. I don't need to be with the wagons, that's his part. My part is done. I don't have to deal with the drow buyers. I can go back to my ruby heist."

Hannibal finds himself gravitating towards the conversation, more to ensure that his objective in all this was satisfied rather than to be part of the discussion itself. At mention of Bernigan's name, however, he finds himself intent and eager.

When Elloharin hears the word drow, a shiver runs down his spine. He seems to recall something from his dim murky memory. Something terrible. "Drow! You would collaborate with drow?" He is on Jordice in a second, his eyes blazing.

"Who? Who is your contact among the forsaken ones? Tell me!"

"Woah, feisty, feisty!" Jordice quips, obviously enjoying Elloharin's outburst. "Have you been listening at all?" He slows his speech and emphasizes each syllable to Elloharin condescendingly, "I don't deal with the drow. Talk...to...Bernigan."

Elloharin's blood is boiling now. The rage is nearly on him. Sweat streams down his face. But Canter pulls him away, trying to get the elf to resume his self control. Elloharin paces behind the others. He is enraged. Drow! Why had the word triggered such a response in him? He had seen only orcs in his long passage here, from beyond the Sinele. Orcs and humans. He had avoided elven settlements. Elves do not like wanderers, particularly wanderers of their own kind. They like permanence, and stability, law and custom, reason and tradition. There is no stability in Elloharin's life. At least what he can remember of it.

Skandor watches passively as Elloharin literally explodes at the mention of "drow." The paladin does not know much about the dark elves, save what he has heard in hushed whispers and tales from bards. He steps up beside the elf and lays a hand gently on his shoulder, attempting to calm him a bit, and tries to ease the enraged elf away from Jordice. "This one will have his day of judgement, friend Elloharin," he says, motioning towards Jordice. "But your anger... it would best be directed towards our coming foe. The scrolls of Anhur state, 'Spend your wrath not against the pawns of Evil, rather, against the evil itself.' Your anger, focused, will allow you to be a far more effective warrior."

Skandor then blinks, and steps back, hoping he did not offend the elf.

Emma herself remains silent during Elloharin's display. 'Odd that the elf didn't react this way when I first mentioned the Drow...,' she thinks. She continues to allow Skandor to intervene on her behalf. It gives her time to study the Sword-Bearer and see how far he's progressed in learning the tenets of their Caste. She recalls the passage from the Scrolls of Anhur that the paladin quotes from and can't help but smile. It's obvious she's quite pleased.

Next, when Canter announces his plan, Elloharin is at attention again. "This is a good plan, I would meet these drow."

Hannibal nods to Canter, glad that he still has the leatherman's support on the issue. "I think it's time Emma, I've been patient and waited long enough...Bernigan's end is near." Hannibal's attitude, surprisingly, is not of anger or rage but rather calm determination. His time spent tracking Jordice and confronting other Clan cronies was time well spent in his eyes...but he could not be expected to wait any longer.

Emma's face also remains impassive. She's obviously not going to allow the thief to goad her into another confrontation on the issue. He knows her feelings well enough. She made that much clear outside the Dwarven camp in the Raimead Mountains. What pains her though, is Canter's support of the man. Revenge in the form of murder isn't her idea of justice. Unless Bernigan can be publicly proclaimed a criminal and punished in plain sight of everyone, the lesson won't be strong enough to deter others from following the evil diplomat's actions. 'How can I make them understand that?' she silently wonders to herself.

Crayne looks at Canter suprised by his suggestion. A mere leatherman-turned-soldier Canter was not, Crayne was beginning to realise. "You suggestion is one of merit Canter! Well done! Having Delk as a witness is a fine idea. As soon as he sees that the ore is being taken directly to the dark elves the dwarven sales to Bernigan will end. That we can be sure of! I think that is what we are most concerned about at the moment. For I fear if we continue to tread on Paros' shoes he will not react so kindly! If the negotiations go through with Bernigan then the dwarves will surely turn back to the King. Thus, hopefully mending the broken treaty."

Alara, the young half-elf stands towards the back of the party as they question Jordice, looking only slightly interested. During the questioning examines the contents of her pack, and adjusts her gear.

"I would agree," Emma nods, "Canter and the Highbrow are right. Having Captain Delk join us in this little excursion seems like the right thing to do. Let's just make sure we win this battle and he comes out of it alive so he can speak on our behalf and tell the truth to his kinsmen in the Raimead Mountains.

"And Canter!" She concludes, "You're turning out to be quite a strategist. Maybe there's a priest of Anhur in you somewhere, after all..." Emma grins at the big leatherman's son to let him know she's just teasing him, but is still very appreciative of his contribution to the plan.

Crayne says, "If this wagon is due to depart tonight then I suggest we leave in the morning. Let them have enough time to get well clear of the city. It will also provide us with time to refresh and ready ourselves for the coming battle. And, of course, time to enable us to find Delk and persuade him to come along with us!"

Canter nods to the priestess, glad that his plan has been met with such acceptance and enthusiasm.

Crayne then turns to Emma but allows the rest of the group to hear, "Now that we have Jordice, a very valuable witness I might add, I fear considerably for his life. I am sure of it that Paros will now know that we have Jordice and it will not be long before he finds out where we are holding him! You may believe that he is safe here under lock in key in this Temple. But never think that, for Paros, I am sure of it, will now look to end the life of Jordice in anyway possible. And believe me he will find ways! Lady Emma you must ensure that your Temple keeps a good eye on Jordice and that his food and water is kept clear. Paros will now look to rid all evidence that points a finger at him of that we can be sure. We can see that the King trusts Paros very much! So, we'll need all the evidence we can get!"

"Storm? Why don't you and Hannibal go round up Captain Delk," Emma suggests, "And take Elloharin and Alara with you."

Hannibal lets out a frustrated sigh, his temper barely under control. Finding a suitable ambush site might be a better move at this point would it not? Shaking his head, he looks to the two newcomers in the group. Elloharin he could tolerate, he may even grow to like the kid, but the woman he didn't care for at all. It was clear she held resentment for their altercation the previous night, was it his fault she turned her back on a thief? Not a wise move, even when distracted.

Nodding to Storm, he makes for the door, wrapping his winter cloak around his shoulders as he does. He would have to request a mission in warmer climes next chance they had. These winters were growing old.

When the topic of following the wagons comes up Alara says, "Excuse me...", waiting to gain the attention of the group, "I'm afraid that I have no horse... and not enough money of my own to buy one."

Hannibal stops short of the door and turns back to the woman. "You look to be in good enough shape to me warrior...try running. Or do your short elven legs prohibit it?" Hannibal offers only a crude smile to any look he may receive, in his mind payment for the icy look he received earlier.

"My legs move me just fine...thank you for your concern." she says, her words dripping with sarcasm. The girl rolls her eyes.

"The temple will provide you one," Emma states, "It is only fair that if they ask you to involve yourself in this mission, that they provide you with the tools to do so." The priestess nods at the young woman, "I will speak with High Priest Towers to insure you have a mount for the ride ahead. If you would prefer to pick one for yourself, I'll have Fallon take you to the stables."

"I'm sure whichever horse they choose will be just fine... I thank you," Alara says. Then she looks to Hannibal: "If you think I want to be here, you're wrong. I'm no happier about having to join your motley band than you are to have me. If I hadn't been forced to do this I wouldn't be... I fully intend to cooperate with any task you assign me, but do not expect me to respect you if you continue to insult me."

Emma steps in, hoping to avoid a full-blown fight right here in the dungeon. "Crayne, you and Canter might want to pay another visit to the Teamster's Guild just to make sure Jordice didn't lie to us about the wagons. See if they're still getting ready to leave or if they've already made the trip to the Dwarven mines and are taking the next five days to go from there to Spiked Peak. And, if you get really lucky, see if you can tell how many men gathered to escort them.

"As for Jordice," she continues, "I'll take Skandor with me and we'll both plead our case to Towers and Fallon. I'm sure the High Priest will have a means to shield the Clansman from Paros' prying eyes, magical or otherwise. And Fallon can personally attend to the food that's given to Jordice, purifying it if necessary to make sure it hasn't been poisoned."

When Emma suggest that Hannibal and Storm take Alara along with them to find Delk, she nods in acceptance. The girl seems to have accepted the fact that she is to accompany this group in their adventures... while she may not be completely happy with the situation, she is by no means hostile.

Crayne turns to the rest of his companions rubbing his hands together, "Well, my friends! Let us prepare for the trials that await us. And let us help cure this terrible infection that spreads through our kingdom. A test, I feel, that will be ample in showing what our new recruits can offer!" Crayne says as he looks to Skandor, Elloharin and Alara.

"Indeed," Emma says, "Everything that Rinder's Six has accomplished so far has been through the combination of our various talents. We'll need to count on all of yours, too, if we're to win the day." The priestess looks sidelong at Crayne, "You know, in some ways I think we've already gained an element of surprise on Paros and Bernigan. If either of them have attempted to study Rinder's Six and look for patterns in how we operate, the addition of three new members ought to bring out the unexpected. Hopefully, they'll be caught unprepared for such a change."

Storm nods curtly and begins to walk out of the room with Hannibal, Elloharin, and Alara at Emma's request. He certainly doesn't mind going to see the dwarven diplomat, always anxious to see more of his own people. His thoughts also dwell on the upcoming battle, hoping a host of dwarves can join them in the fight, making it all that much more glorious. And then perhaps his father would hear some good news of his deeds...

He shakes off his brief reverie as Hannibal and Alara exchange words, growling himself at having to babysit the newcomers. He decides not to say anything, though, and instead walks ahead of the group toward the castle grounds.

Following the decision to split up, Emma has Skandor wait for her while she goes to change. Removing her blue tunic, the priestess dons the tabard of her caste once again, the front emblazoned with an image of the sun backlighting the Holy Scales of Anhur.

When she rejoins the paladin, she smiles saying, "Our mission from this point on doesn't require the same sort of stealth that we used on the streets of Parton. I think it's only right that Bernigan and his men should see and recognize the forces that have assembled against them." Her hand trails down to the flail at her belt, leaving no doubt as to what will happen when they finally do encounter the treacherous diplomat.

"Let's go find Towers and Fallon," she finishes.

Skandor bows, and can not help letting a faint smile cross his lips at seeing her don the Scales. He walks behind her and slightly to the right, at the proper interval and distance befitting his lower station. "Lady, if I might ask you a question or two, as I wish there to be no confusion when violence becomes necessary," he says hesitantly.

The priestess nods her head as they continue to walk down the hall. "A wise course of action," she says, "Violence is often reduced to confusion, but the warrior that keeps the clearest head is most often the victor."

"This Bernigan, should we attempt to capture him alive? Or are we to slay him at all costs? Will our main mission be to capture the wagons, and Bernigan our secondary objective?"

"Capturing the wagons and Bernigan would be my preference," the priestess explains, "Unfortunately, not everyone within Rinder's Six shares it. The wagons are certainly our primary goal, as well as exposing the Dwarves to the truth of the situation. In addition to all of that, Hannibal wants revenge upon Bernigan. Sometimes, I think that's his only goal. Vengenance, pure and simple. Canter has backed him on that, as well as Storm, I believe. Most of the others are undecided on the issue...so I'm firmly in the minority at the moment."

She pauses in her stride and turns to regard the Sword-Bearer. "But, it's more complicated than that," she says, "Outside these temple walls the world is not a place of black and white. It is hard to determine the proper course of action sometimes. In Hannibal's case, his beloved was murdered by Bernigan several years ago. When we last faced the diplomat, he didn't exactly deny the charge. In fact, he practically reveled in it.

"I called upon Anhur's sight to look into Bernigan's soul once," she continues, "And it is indeed tainted with evil...a dark stain that I'm not sure he could ever erase...even with the guidance of a High Priest. And, by Jordice's own words, Bernigan has been a career criminal...a lifelong member of the Blood Clan, a group of assassins and professional thieves.

"Hannibal once belonged to that group, too," she confides, "Though I've seen much more good in him than Bernigan. It disappoints me, however, that once more he regresses to the Blood Clan's way of thinking. His spirit is restless and demands vengeance. He believes it will ease his mind, but I've done my best to assure him that it won't bring him the peace that he desires. He's aware of all these things I've told you. And, he's asked me to step aside when we encounter Bernigan. He intends to murder him, Skandor. And I've told him that doing so might very well bring us into personal conflict. If it becomes necessary, I may have to bring Hannibal to justice for the same crime that took his loved one away from him.

"But, to compromise with Hannibal and the rest of Rinder's Six," she finishes, "I have agreed to challenge Bernigan. If he should attempt to fight his way out of the situation, then our blades will cross. In that hour, justice will be served upon the battlefield in whatever form Anhur wishes."

Skandor mentally notes the Shield Maiden's wise decision. Perhaps many in the church would consider this another so-called "Diversion" from the norm, but he found great wisdom in her thinking. Even if the priesthood would support Hannibal's 'justice' in whatever form he sees fit, Skandor agreed that some form of public trial, and sentence, upon Bernigan might very well be a deterrent... and educational, to the citizens of the land.

Skandor is pleased to see that, even if the rumors about Emma's 'different' way of thinking were true, at least she used wisdom and forethought in her actions. This, he would gladly tell his superiors.

He pauses for a moment before continuing. Emma can tell that he seems slightly anxious. "Your friends, I wish to gain their trust, to show them that I will not willingly fail them. I just wish not to commit any errors. Your guidance and advice would be most appreciated."

"I will do what I can," Emma says with a half-smile, turning once more to proceed down the hallway. Inwardly, she's amazed by the irony of the situation. There was a time when she had asked Edryd to do the same for her. But Skandor's question caused her to look once more at herself. Could she really provide guidance for a Sword-Bearer? 'It feels strange to be in a higher position of...experience,' she thinks to herself.

"And," he adds, "I worry about Alara. She seems most...troubled. Hannibal toys with her, but she does seem genuinely reluctant to aid us. Does this concern you as well, Shield Maiden? Or are my fears unfounded? I have no ill will towards her, not in the least. She seems quite capable. But...someone forced into a situation they do not wish to be in, is not likely to commit fully to that cause."

"Trust in the powers that Anhur has given you," Emma instructs, deciding to adopt the role of a teacher for now, "Use your sight to look into the girl's soul. I did so the night she first tried to attack us, and there is no evil to be found there. I'm uncertain about Towers decision to force her into our ranks, but I can only assume the High Priest has a good reason for doing so. He and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye, though. Time will tell, I guess."

She glances at Skandor as they walk. "The girl is genuinely a good person. Being forced into the situation may cause her not to be fully committed to our cause for now. But, as we get further into our mission, the dynamics will change and she may find a different reason for committing to us."

"I agree, Shield Maiden," Skandor says, pausing. "And perhaps it is none of my business, and perhaps she will display to me the same tone she does with Hannibal, but I believe that I shall inquire as to her reluctance...and assignment," he says. "As the Scrolls of Anhur state: 'Know your allies at least as well as you know your enemy.' Since she and I are both newcomers, we at least have that in common."

"Well said," Emma agrees, "I think Alara's tone with Hannibal doesn't stem from any particular personality trait, though, Skandor. It's probably from the bump on the head that he gave her last night. I admit I feel somewhat guilty for asking him to deliver the blow. She certainly did nothing to warrant it. If she should be angry with anyone, it should be me..."

The priestess sighs and grows quiet. It's obvious that she's had to make some hard choices lately. She thinks back to all of the other times Rinder's Six has gotten itself into a sticky situation and had to make a moral decision on the fly. She used to argue with all of them face-to-face at first. Why Cyveiliog himself was probably ready to cross swords with her a time or two for being so stubborn. And now, here she had directed Hannibal to knock some poor heroine unconscious because they didn't have enough time to properly deal with the situation. 'I wonder if that's what Cy wanted to do to me back then?' she wonders, a half-smile playing upon her lips.

'Irony upon irony,' she thinks, shaking her head, 'At least I can take solace in the fact that no one got killed. And that's the difference between how I've handled the situation. Hopefully it's for the better, and Alara will add to our success in ending this Dwarven blockade and unraveling the last of the Caerloon-Red Dragon plot.'

Once they discover the two priests of Anhur, she explains the situation with Skandor's assistance, urging them both to protect Jordice by whatever means necessary. "He is the key to proving Paros' treachery to Sir Duke Bryant," she says, "And we fear that the wizard may attempt to divine his location so he can be eliminated. If you can shield him from such attacks in our absence, we would be eternally grateful."

Skandor agrees completely with Emma's statements, and for what it's worth, informs Towers and Fallon of such. He attempts to help convince them of what she says.

"Shield Maiden," Towers says, folding his hands in front of him and glancing at Fallon, whose eyes dart between his superior and the priestess with whom he knows his loyalties truly lie, "your continued demands on the resources of this Temple and its priests is growing taxing. Especially considering the war we are now fighting. I will do this for you--for your both--and protect this criminal, for I believe it to be in the best interests of all of us. But unless out powers are increased with the timely acquisition of the Ring of Fire Command, we will soon be strained to the breaking point."

While Storm and Hannibal walk, Elloharin jogs up to them and falls in on Hannibal's side. He waits until their conversation is finished then, looking at Hannibal, he says, "Master Hannibal, perhaps it be rude of me to inquire but...Who is this Bernigan? If you don't mind me asking, has he committed an injustice to you? Such things cannot go unpunished."

Hannibal pauses in his stride for a brief moment, regarding the elf beside him. Then he narrows his eyes and bores his gaze into the kid, responding. "The word 'injustice' does not begin to describe what he has done to me--and his deeds *will* not go unpunished."

Falling in on Elloharin's other side, Storm whispers in the elf's ear, "He be slayin' Hannibal's girl...an' unbord child." Storm then looks across to Hannibal, a bit unsure if he had said to much.

But Elloharin cuts in before Hannibal can reply to Storm, turnign to the thief and saying plainly, "You may count on my sword when the day of judgment is at hand."

With that, Elloharin slips into the rear of the party, trailing with Alara. He looks at the half-elf, as they walk. She is pretty, but very hard. She seems taut as a bow string, about to be snapped. He murmurs to her in elven: "Hannibal is an honorable man. You would do well to let bygones be bygones."

Alara turns her head to face the elf and says "I'm sorry, I don't speak elven. I was raised in a human city...my mother was the only elf I ever knew, and she only spoke elven to me when I was young, too young to remember," a far-away look seems to come over Alara's face at the mention of her mother, though in an instant though it is gone, replaced once again by the hard stare she's had since meeting the party.

Twin spots of color bloom on Elloharin's wan features. She does not know her native language? How can this be? The long-lived are not ones to allow their culture to be usurped--not by humans. He feels disgraced, on his own part and for hers. He wonders if she should even be given the honor of learning Elven. He graciously decides that she should be forgiven the sins of her ancestors.

"I shall teach you then," he announces.

Once inside the castle, Storm hastily makes his way toward the Master Chamberlain's office, gruffly demanding to know "Where be Delk the dwarf?" The Chamberlain is at first a bit put off by Storm's not-so-charismatic greeting, but realizing the favor with which Sir Bryant looks upon Rinder's Six, he points down the hall toward an antechamber. Storm walks ahead, smiling at Hannibal as he goes, making a swift pace toward the dwarven captain's location.

After exchanging hearty greetings with the other dwarf, Hannibal steps in to

explain the situation, and Storm lets him. As Hannibal chats with Delk, Storm says to Alara, "Don't ye be worryin' so much 'bout bein' with us an all. As long as ye can chop up some bloodclanners, ye be doin' fiiiiiiine...." He winks obnoxiously and smiles a wide, half-toothless grin her way.

Alara smiles back at Storm, glad to hear his kinder words. "I happen to be quite good with this," she says while tapping the hilt of her bastard sword with her index finger. "Perhaps soon enough I'll be able to show you how good," finishes with a wink.

Storm nods as Alara comments on her skill with her sword. "Aye," he says proudly, "but I's be twice as good as ye!" He taps the hilts of his twin swords and starts laughing, giving the woman a stout slap on the arm, knocking her off her footing a bit.

Then Delk's sudden motion brings Storm and Alara back to attention. The Captain and diplomat with the Warhammer Brigade picks up a heavy pack, strapping it to his back, two pots clanging together in the process. Then he walks to the corner of the chamber and picks up his large broad sword (fine dwarven make, perhaps Strongblade?) from its resting place beneath the portrait of some long-deceased lord of the Great House of Raimead.

With a curt nod, Delk turns to Storm, saying in Common, "I be ready. Let's get those drow bastards." Then he looks upon Alara and Elloharin, noting their elven blood and looks. With a second glace to Storm, he says more quietly in their shared Dwarven tongue, "They be coming too?"

Storm nods, proud of the new additions to Rinder's Six. Then again, it was perhaps his extended time in the realm of the Six and their firm human foundation that had changed his views, making him more accepting of humans and other races. Some within the Dwarven community--including his very own father--would say that is a sign of weakness. Obviously, Captain Delk is not far from that point of view.

"Fine then," the Captain responds in Common, heading for the door.

Meeting back at the inn and tavern for dinner, Rinder's Six, armed with three new members and two guests (Karelth and Captain Delk) share a large meal at the Captain's expense. "I hate headin' inta battle on an empty stomach," he explains grufly. "An I always share some grub with me comrades before...an' after."

"Then allow me to make a toast," Karelth replies, a wide smile on his face and his goblet brimming with fine red wine, "To the past successes of this fine group. And to all the victories the future will surely bring."

"Cheers!" Crayne responds, clinking his glass with his uncle's.

"A fine toast," Emma replies, smiling as well.

"A fine toast, indeed." A new voice reverberates over the table. All eyes look up to see who it belongs to. It sounded like it came from just behind Hannibal, but there is no one there. And yet, the voice seemed strangely familiar.

A strange breeze sweeps through the room, seeming to circle around the table. Emma's hair is blown into Canter's face, sitting next to her, and Alara's too, is swept aside. Storm quickly reaches for his nearest weapon, a knife, and holds it under the table at the ready.

Then the voice speaks again: "Emerson has told me what you've been up to..."

It was Paros! It had to be! But where was he?

"...And I think it's safe to say, I am quite displeased. Be careful out there in the wilderness. It is quite dangerous, you know..."

Storm and Crayne jump up from their seats, frantically searching the room for Paros's body. He must be there somewhere! But even Storm's enhanced night vision, though not really necessary in the candle- and torch-lit tavern, resolves nothing. Crayne, his eyes narrowed, comes up empty handed as well. Then there is a bang as the door to the tavern is shut by the gust of cold wind.

Once the party has settled down, Canter pulls out a piece of parchment from his pocket, laying it on the table.

"In our visit this afternoon with the halfling at the Teamsters Guild, I was able to purchase this: a more detailed map of the Raimead Duchy. I had the halfling there mark for me the location of Spiked Peak, which you can see is here--" he motions to one spot on the map, all the way on the western edge of the Duchy and the Raimead Mountains, indeed, on the edge of the very kingdom! "--and I marked the location of the mine where the ore is coming from, because we've been there before. Well, at least some of us."

Crayne, Skandor, and Elloharin (all sitting near Canter) lean forward to examine the map as Canter continues. "Now we must figure out where we are going to intercept the caravan of wagons. In order to do that, I think..."

"...We must figure out where the wagons will be," Crayne finishes, looking to Canter and smiling.

"Exactly," the leatherman's son replies.

"A direct route," Skandor says, drawing a line across the map from the mine to the peak with his fingernail, "would be almost straight across, passing north of this town, Nickton, and south of Parton. And crossing right near this estate...the estate of Baron Rothenshire."

Hannibal leans back in his seat, saying, "This all assumes Bernigan is going to take a direct route..." he takes a sip of his wine, allowing his thoughts to drift toward the day--not far off, hopefully--when he will have the pleasure of sending his sword through Bernigan's heart.

"Well, we must decide," Emma says, thinking tactically. "We could lay an ambush for them somewhere along that line, or whatever route we think they will be taking. We then run the risk of missing them completely. The closer we get to the mine, assuming we leave right away in the morning, the closer we will be to them and can catch them early. But if we miss them leaving the mine, then the only way we can be absolutely sure to catch them again is right near Spiked Peak, for that's the only other place we know for certain they will be."

"Arr, I ain't be no good at these <hiccup!> thinkin' an' plannin' things!" Storm says, leaning way back in his chair and planting a dirty foot on the table, causing the plates to shake in the process.

"That may be so Storm," Emma says, looking across the table to the slightly-drunken dwarf (how many glasses of the wine has he had?), "but we must come up with some kind of plan..."

"I can lead ye to the mine," Delk says, weighing in on the planning session. "I know the area well. Or I can lead ye to the Peak. I don' know it as good but I been told there be but one way up. One approach. That be a good spot to get 'em, but then we might hafta deal with them drow."

Elloharin lifts his face to Delk as he hears the word. This assignment could be a lot more interesting than he had originally thought...

View the map of the Raimead Duchy.

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