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

Elloharin snaps to his feet, his hand reaching for his sword. He backs away from the table immediately, looking for room to swing his blade, should he need to. He locates the door and imagines how quick it would take him to reach it. When Paros has left, he stands for a moment more, looking suspiciously at the door. Then he stretches and sheathes his blade.

Seeing his comrades take immediate action, Skandor is not far behind as he leaps up from his seated position, drawing the smaller of his weapons for close-quarter fighting, his 'Gladius', or Short Sword. He dashes to the door and flings it open, and steps outside, though not far from the vision of his comrades. His eyes, not nearly as good as those of the members of the party with elven or dwarven heritage, scan the surrounding area for any sign of this voice, or its owner.

Emma is startled by the sudden voice, but refrains from jumping out of her seat to look about for Paros. Obviously the wizard is trying to scare them, she thinks. For if he truly intended them harm here inside the tavern, he would have done more than offer up threats. The priestess puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her balled fists, her brow furrowed in thought. Emma looks across the table at Alara, who also remained seated.

'It's obvious he knows we're involved now,' she thinks to herself, 'But he's holding back on confronting us directly...probably because even he has to keep up certain appearances. A sudden fiery death inflicted upon Rinder's Six as we dine would raise a lot of questions. And, since it would be attributed to magic, there would be too many questions directed Paros' way. Stalemate...for now.'

Storm frantically looks around the room with his dagger held wide in at the ready, searching quickly for the form of that infernal wizard. "Where ye be at..." he mumbles through clenched teeth, his muscles ready to react as soon as his eyes give him reason to. As the voice fades and Skandor checks the hallway finding nothing, Storm lets out a loud grunt. Quite angry, he yells out a loud curse to the god of Magic, slamming the tip of his dagger down into the table at his seat. He sits down folding his arms over his chest, taking in the few stares from those around him before removing the dagger and replacing it on his hip, next to his several others.

Alara's eyes scan the entire room, trying to see if she can locate where the voice came from. As the others stand and search the room, she sits quietly at the table. After a moment she says, "I don't like what he said...'Be careful out there in the wilderness. It is quite dangerous, you know...'" she pauses and looks around at the rest of the party.

"I'm going to regret ever getting mixed up with you people aren't I?", she says with a laugh.

"I've never regretted getting mixed up with the affairs of Rinder's Six," Emma offers with a reassuring smile, "It certainly hasn't been boring so far...

"As for Paros," she frowns, "He must have something planned for us in the wilderness...away from the city and those that would question our deaths. We're going to have to be on our toes from here on out..." She glances around at the others, some still standing with their weapons drawn. "Who knows what resources he might bring to bear upon us..."

Soon the rest of the party returns, a bit shaken by the encounter but unable to actually locate a source for the voice. Perhaps Paros was safely within his tightly guarded laboratory or library? Or maybe he had been in the room under some kind of veil of invisibility? Once nerves have calmed, at least a little bit, the conversation moves to planning the attack on the caravan, with Canter starting off the discussion with him map.

Crayne takes a long sip of his red wine as he contemplates the information that has been placed in front of him. His mind was currently more concerned with the surreal interruption of dinner by the voice of Paros, his main adversary. He had assumed that Paros would recognise the ambush of Jordice to be the work of Rinder's Six. Why, though, had Paros taken the time to tell Rinder's Six that he knew what had happened? Surely that information would have been better kept to himself! Nevertheless, Crayne now focused his attention on what Paros's next step would be. If he were in the shoes of Paros then surely the most obvious tactic would be to go after Jordice. That point Crayne had covered for. Furthermore, it was probably obvious to Paros that Rinder's Six would next go after Bernigan. With the assumption that Paros was aware of the delivery that was to take place to the drow. And with the assumption that Rinder's Six were on their way out to intercept the wagons and capture Bernigan, what better way to cause trouble but notify the drow of a possible threat to their delivery?

Crayne breaks his deep thought and looks around the table and down at the map that Canter had so kindly produced. "I fear we are very much constrained by time and therefore believe we must ambush the ore as soon as possible. I fear that Paros will soon be on our trail and I presume it more than likely that the drow will be notified of the danger to their delivery sooner or later. Also, Towers grows impatient with our search for the Ring of Fire and I believe it better for us to be back as soon as possible in terms of the threat to Jordice. Thus, we must find them, capture Bernigan, and bring the ore back to the city. The wagons, afterall, do not travel at a great speed and if we hurry I believe we can capture them just leaving the adamantine mine. If we head south east along the road to Nickton and then head directly east for the mine then we should intercept them on their way west. Besides the land is clear and we shouldn't have that much trouble spotting them. Perhaps I can use levitate to aid our cause and get a better view!"

Crayne then dreams again about the Fly spell he had so desparately craved for over the years. What a handy commodity it would have been in this situation. "What does everybody think?" Crayne says as he nibbles on some bleau cheese and then washes it down with some more wine.

Hannibal nods his head in confirmation, pleased that the mage's opinion of their options met well with his own. He winces slightly as Crayne mentions 'capturing' Bernigan but decides to let the comment be for fear of another debate. He had tired over the last few weeks of Emma's attempts at coercing him into a peaceful confrontation. Her promises of Anhur's justice only strengthened his resolve, knowing full well that there was no such thing. Bernigan would no doubt buy his way out of trouble much like he did after the assassination of Lord Demayuk years ago. It was ironic to him that the Blood Clan had so many ties to government and men of power. Hannibal shudders to think what all the money Bernigan would make from the adamantine sales would go to. He could quite literally buy himself into power!

Hannibal pulls himself back to reality just as Crayne is finishing. Opting to speak, he hopes the wine he had consumed earlier would not slur his speech too greatly. "Crayne's points are valid, we must move quick and strike hard. No doubt we will be out numbered, possibly by three or four to one odds, and we will need to capture them at their most vulnerable...in travel. I suggest we find a pass along the way, one that we can use best to our advantage." Hannibal scans the map carefully, looking for any detail missed.

"Say we find a pass in the mountains we can use, possibly with enough time we can rig a rockslide to cut off their escape. From a high point I can use my bow to keep them pinned while Crayne and Emma can dispense with whatever scorcery they may have handy." For a moment Hannibal shivers, as if a cold wind had entered the room. The thought of having to face that demon Paros anytime soon sent chills down his spine!

"Whatever the decision though," he finally continues, "we need to act quickly and get away from Paros's watchful eye. It would do us no good if he could warn Bernigan prior to our arrival with some sort of spell or something." That said, Hannibal leans back and opens the forum to anyone else.

Storm, slightly woozy and still angered from Paros's interruption, then smacks his open palm on the table and declares loudly. "I be up fer hittin' 'em hard, and as soon as possible!" Then, softer, "them bastards gonna pay...<hiccup>."

Elloharin then chimes in after a side glance at the drunken drawf. "I think it best that we tackle the wagons at the base of the Peak. Perhaps we will meet these drow. I know of a certain bark stain, that can turn Alara and my own fair skin, as dark as drow flesh. Perhaps we will learn more of these teamsters if they think they are 'selling' the ore to us. Furthurmore, if things go wrong, we will have had some time to establish a defensible position. This way we will also have some time to prepare for their arrival. Do we know anything of this Baron Rothenshire? I can't believe a Baron would not know of a massive shipment of ore crossing his property. And if he does know ... then there is yet another conspirator to be brought to justice." So saying, Elloharin sits back down and pours himself of the wine, his first glass--this evening.

A long moment of silence passes as the elf reclines and pours a glass of wine. Clearing his throat, Skandor weighs in on the subject. "Well, it is obvious that surprise will be our most valuable asset. Of course, if we assume Paros will inform Bernigan, then we will probably lose that. If Jordice is right, Bernigan will have perhaps 25 men at arms. I would also believe that he very well might have a cleric, or perhaps a mage with him, with a shipment of this importance.

"My advice would be to head to this area," he says, pointing to the southern tip of Willshire's Forest, as close as possible to the mine. "I would guess that we could use the forest area to seclude ourselves, and await the caravan leaving the mine. They will probably head along that forest ridge to the south. Going north to the road that way would be too far out of the way. The forest is probably too much of a hindrance to travel through with uneven terrain, trees, and large, bulky, heavily-laden wagons.

"I agree with Hannibal: their weakest point will be during travel. Too close to the mine, and they may have help from the mine area. Too close to the peaks, and they may have help from the drow. Somewhere in between will be his most vulnerable point. By observing Bernigan and his caravan from a safe, secluded position, we can judge when and how best to strike.

"If we are outnumbered badly, we may wish to attempt some sort of hit-and-run attack. If we can at least disable the wagons, and delay their arrival, perhaps the deal will be a bust. On the other hand, as Elloharin mentioned, there are merits to awaiting them near the Peak," he says, pointing to the area around Spiked Peak. "For one, though we are not 100% sure on the route he will take, we know his destination, regardless of what path he takes. Secondly, awaiting him at the Peak would give us plenty of time to wait, prepare, and ready ourselves. Traps, an ambush, and the like are all possibilities. It would probably be the one place he would least suspect a trap or ambush of any kind, so close to the home of the drow. And after a long journey, it would probably be the one spot where he and his men are the most tired and lethargic."

Stepping away from the map to make room for others, Skandor turns his head towards Emma. "Shield Maiden? What wisdom might you shed upon this map?"

Emma doesn't answer right away, preferring to wait for Alara to also voice her opinion. 'It's becoming easier to listen to everyone's ideas and then take the best elements of them to put together a plan,' she thinks to herself, 'And the histories of Anhur do mention that as a trait of the best generals.'

Alara listens as the others give their opinions on how to pursue the caravan. "I'd first like to point out that we've already had an invisible eavesdropper once this evening, and yet we continue to lay all of our plans out in the open. To me that seems rather foolish, how do we know that this 'Paros' isn't still listening? But since you've all stated your ideas, I feel I should give my input as well. I agree that surprise is our best advantage, however, I don't see why we need to engage the caravan directly, at least not at first...if we are outnumbered, I say we make it a little more even before we face them head on. We should try to find the wagons and trail them, letting them get far enough ahead of us that they won't see us behind them. Then when they stop to rest attack them from a distance, take out as many of the guards or mercenaries that are traveling with the wagons as we can from a distance, either with bow and arrow, or by magic, thin out their numbers and put them on edge," she pauses for a moment.

"We have to be very quick in the initial assault, we would also have to get away without a trace. If they don't know exactly where the attack came from, or by how many they'll be more nervous, and no matter how well trained a man is, if he isn't sure exactly what he's facing, he's more likely to make mistakes. We wouldn't need to take out the entire caravan in our first assault, we may not even need to attack again until after they've reached the mines."

After Alara offers up her advice, Emma finally speaks. "I agree with elements of everyone's plan," she says, "First, I think it's unlikely, given the information we obtained from Jordice, that Paros will contact Bernigan to tell him we're coming. This is certainly a valid fear, Crayne, but as Jordice told us: Bernigan dealt with the Dwarves and Drow while Jordice paid off Paros. To me, that implies the wizard might not be fully aware of the whole operation...and may be unable to contact Bernigan at all."

Crayne looks up a little disappointed, "Also, it might not be the case that Paros will warn Bernigan! What I fear most is that he'll go out and warn the drow directly. If the drow become involved then we will be outnumbered and I am sure that Paros would know that too! What better way to act but to bring in a powerful and skilled race who wait for their ore but have heard that it is to be stolen by some renegades? I also fully believe Paros knows where the ore is going. He is no fool and I am more than sure that he knows or will soon know about everything that is going on. That is what he does, Emma! He is an information gatherer! The most powerful of skills even more so than magic!"

The priestess holds up her hand before the Highbrow can object any further, continuing, "I know, if that assumption is wrong, it would be folly on our part to dive in headfirst. Let us proceed with this mission as if Paros has contacted Bernigan. Better for us to take such precaution and not need it than to forego it and suffer the consequences of our overconfidence.

"As for the proposed route of the wagons," she continues, "I agree with Skandor. According to the map, it makes little sense that they would try to take the wagons northward to the road that crosses the forestland. More likely, they'll head southwest to Nickton. That will enable them to use the roads and move the wagons at a much quicker pace. It would be wise for us to look for them in that small town. It's quite likely they'll want to stop there to resupply before taking the longer trip across the entire Duchy of Raimead."

Crayne nodds in agreement, "That is what I said! I suggest we head along the south east road to Nickton!"

Smiling to the mage, Emma continues speaking, determined that after listening to the others, she have her chance to voice her thoughts. "So, what do we do when we finally do locate them?" she asks for everyone, "I agree with Alara. A direct confrontation is unlikely to succeed...and although I like Hannibal's idea of causing a rockslide to hem them into a trap, there are very few mountainous or hilly regions along the path that the wagons are most likely to take. And, even if there were, 25 men-at-arms will likely be able to fight their way through our blockade...especially if they've been warned by Paros to expect an ambush...or if they have a wizard among them.

"My recommendation would be to try the hit-and-run tactics that Skandor and Alara mentioned," she says, "But in a manner that Bernigan and his men won't expect. If we do find them in Nickton, then I would suggest that we use the stealth of Hannibal, Storm, Crayne's Invisibility spells, and my Silence spell. So armed, we can quietly dispatch a few of their men while they relax in the town and resupply...possibly the ones that overindulge in the local tavern's finest drink. But we don't over-do the whole thing. We take out only a few to reduce their numbers.

"Then, we follow them along the road or whatever other trail they opt to take," she continues, "At some advantageous point, we do spring an ambush of sorts, but again, not like they would expect. Using our magic and stealth, we take out their sentries...but only the sentries. They awaken the next morning to discover their numbers are even lower--"

"I fear we plan too far ahead!" Crayne objects, obviously frustrating the priestess. "For that sort of planning is best left for when we reach an appropriate location. Only then can we truly plan out what we want to do! If we do get there in time the Willshire's Forest seems a prime location for an ambush to me!" Crayne says growing a little impatient with all the talk.

"Following that," Emma continues citing her own reference and ignoring the interruption, "we continue to shadow them along their course, presumably taking us close to Baron Rothenshire's estate." Since we have the advantage of speed over the heavily-laden wagons, we should be able to reach the good Baron ahead of them. I'd suggest that we scout out the lay of the land as well as Baron Rothenshire's loyalty to Sir Duke Bryant. If he seems 'shady' then we avoid him and his men and attack Bernigan before they reach the estate. Otherwise, we might seek out the Baron's assistance, offering him an opportunity to increase his standing with the future-King, by lending some of his men. With the odds more evenly matched, we should be able to dispatch Bernigan and the rest of the caravan and retake the ore.

"When we're finished," she states, "I think it's best if we take the wagons to Baron Rothenshire and unload the adamantine there for safekeeping. Then, we escort the empty wagons the rest of the way to Spiked Peak. I think it's best that we go all the way so that Captain Delk can see the truth of Bernigan's buyers. The Dwarves must know that it's the Drow that have been behind the scenes. That is our ultimate goal..." With those last words, she eyes Hannibal, trying to remind him that there's a greater issue at hand than simple revenge.

"If we're able to capture Bernigan and use him to get us close to the Drow," she finishes, "I think we have a greater chance of surprising the dark elves. In the end, I think we should deal House D'Urdenterrad a blow for engaging in this deception, even if it was inspired by the Blood Clan." The priestess finally winds down, taking a deep breath. "What do the rest of you think?"

"I must disagree with you here!" Crayne says, deflating Emma in the process. "As I said, time is of the essence!" Crayne looks to Hannibal for reassurance, "We must capture the ore and Bernigan before Paros gets on our trail. I suggest we let them head out from the adamantine mines to near Nickton. Then when we see that they are heading directly west we take them, capture Bernigan and bring all of it back to the city straight away. Then what if we head out for the Spiked Peak and I used one of my illusions to create the wagons and men. We can get it out of Bernigan where the actual drop off point is. We must be wary of the drow for they are an extremely powerful race and to anger them I believe would be our downfall! If possible we should do this without any contact with the drow. I'm sure that enough evidence would be provided if Delk saw the drow come out to greet the wagons. We must act quickly though and I believe to take the wagons all the way across to the Spiked Peak is wasting time. I just hope we can get to the drow before they get to us. Besides, Towers too grows impatient by our absence and I fear gravely for Jordice's life!

"No, we need to do this quickly and efficiently! I believe all the evidence we need is in the twenty five that escort the wagon on a westward direction, the viewing of the drow coming out to pick their ore up by Captain Delk, the refusal of Paros to up the price for the dwarfs, Emerson, Bernigan and Jordice!"

Elloharin leans forward, his arms on the table. "I must ask you, Lady Emmalya, for someone so conscious of the law, and the scrolls of Anhur: does the term 'dispatch' seem not a little cold to you? Shouldn't they be brought to justice in a court of law? Does picking these 'men at arms' off from a distance, and in such a manner, seem the slightest bit dishonorable--not to mention murderous? After all, these men are probably not nearly of the evil substance of such career criminals as Bernigan and Jordice."

Elloharin pauses a moment. He speaks slowly and carefully. He stares directly at Emma.

With her emotions swinging dangerously at the moment, Emma opens her mouth as if to reply angrily to the elf's words, but she stops herself just in time. Instead, she looks inward. 'Is that truly what we're doing?' she wonders. The priestess reassesses her convictions and in that moment Elloharin turns on Alara as well.

Then his gaze shifts to Alara. "And you ... for someone who would have killed us had she the chance--because you thought we were brigands--does this seem not the least bit diabolical? Rather like a group of thieves planning a large heist? Is this not what we're doing?"

"You do not yet know me well enough to know what my intentions were," Alara says without looking at Elloharin. The young woman puts her hands on the tabletop and turns her head slowly towards the elf. "It was never my intention to kill anyone, simply to stop a man from being beaten by a group of thugs, who outnumbered him. Is that your idea of fighting 'honorably,' an entire party attacking a single man? And I'm sure you were completely honest in getting him into the alley to begin with...I'm sure you just said 'Excuse me sir, can we lure you into a dark alleyway and beat you into submission?'

"I've often found that when you're trying to do what is 'right,' you may not do what is honorable along the way."

Elloharin pauses again, his gaze turning toward Storm and Hannibal. "Are we not robbing a caravan? Good intentions are seldom excuse for murder. Thieves are by their actions, not their motives, made. Perhaps a larger issue is at stake as well. In my journey to Parton, I have met many who swear by the Six. The peasantry is fickle at best though. What happens, when they hear we have robbed a merchant caravan? I know. We shall tell them that the good dwarves were being short-changed. And that evil elves, which are no more than a fiction in most men's minds, were being served. I think I know enough of racism to know that humans will side with humans. Particularly those in the merchant class. Perhaps merchants may wonder at the new King's policies? eh? Sudden search and seizure on little or no evidence? How many merchants out there do a small but steady business in contraband? All of them. None will like news of a King sanctioned robbery. Not that this is 'King Sanctioned.' Especially since this is bought and paid for fairly honestly."

Elloharin sits back for a second. "Perhaps it would be better for the Six, and better for the kingdom at large, for news of this transaction to surface in other ways. Instead of the arbiters of justice, which, I may remind you, we are not (despite the presence of Anhur with us), we should appear as heroes, trying to inform the people of tremendous wrong doing taking place. From what Nigel has told me of the Six, we are not a group of vigilantes.

"I for one am not looking forward to a conflict with a man whose body I cannot see. Paros. And eventually this is what it will come down to. If the mob were on our side at that point, a conflict might become less dangerous for all parties involved.

"So I propose that we track this caravan, with the good Captain Delk as a witness. And if he would join us, Gladstone, or some other trusted official of the Raimead government. They would see the transaction

taking place, and further action would be left to them. On our advisement of course. This does of course mean, that the drow might get a shipment of adamantine. But knowledge, in any battle, is more important than arms. If the King knows, by which I mean, has proof of a possible drow arms buildup."

Elloharin trails off for a moment. He realizes he has said more in the past minute than he has said since he joined the Six. His lips tighten and he blinks rapidly. "I say too much. I should not presume to argue with you, lady Emmalya, Cleric of Anhur." With that the elf is silent. He hides his mouth behind his wine glass.

Hannibal leans back from his position at the table. Staring blankly at Emma he is hard pressed again not to say anything. Instead he simply grabs his winter cloak and turns for the tavern door, not saying a word as he departs.

Emma watches Hannibal leave and sighs, hanging her head. The rest of her food remains uneaten upon her plate. For some reason, she seems to have lost her appetite. 'I'm going to lose him,' she thinks to herself, 'Vengeance clouds his mind and for that, he will slip into evil and unbalance his soul. What more can I do or say, Anhur?' Her eyes grow misty, but she holds back shedding any tears at the table.

Then Emma's lips tighten into a grim line of determination. She watches the elf for a long moment, then offers up the only explanation that she can, "Elloharin, you do not presume too much to argue your points with me...even if I am a Shield Maiden of Anhur. In my time here with the Six, I've come to realize that the forces we've matched ourselves against represent a true threat to the continued existence of our kingdom, our people, and my caste.

"I agree with you that not every man-at-arms accompanying the caravan to Spiked Peak has a soul as tainted by evil as that of Bernigan or Paros," she says, "But each of them have made small choices that have led to this path. They have chosen to serve the Blood Clan, an organization that is known for assassinations, murder, and grand thievery the likes of which few of us can understand. I represent a force that is diametrically opposed to them, and as such, I will not waver in bringing them to justice...and despite your claims, I am an arbiter of justice as a result of my position in the caste of Anhur. But there are many forms that justice can take. Anhur is a god of War, Elloharin, and quite often justice is carried out on a field of battle and not always in a courtroom. I don't relish that fact, but it is the cold truth. If I were truly naive, then I would expect all of the Blood Clansmen to surrender the moment we challenge them, but in my heart of hearts, I know that will not happen. They will resist us. And, if we waver...if we take the time to offer each of them a chance to surrender...they will surely take advantage of us and cut us down...and then all of our efforts will be for naught.

"Don't assume that just because we use stealth to 'dispatch' our enemies that it makes it any less honorable," she continues, "In times of war, Anhur often favors stealth over a direct confrontation. And I feel that we are in a time of war...not just with Caerloon, but also with the Red Dragon renegades that Paros belongs to, and the Blood Clan that Bernigan serves.

"But please don't get me wrong," she admits, "Elloharin, I often question my actions and decisions, measuring them against my faith in Anhur and justice. In the past few days, I've seen enough about Bernigan and the Blood Clan to know that justice will be served by the plan that I've offered. Perhaps if you had experienced the same things as the rest of us, you might understand as well... I don't want to slay every man-at-arms among the caravan, if it isn't necessary," she states, "But I also don't want to give up the element of surprise by trying to capture each and every one of them. Such a tactic is certain to run into complications that will hinder our efforts to perform the greater good. I'm sorry if some of these men's lives are cut short because we have to use this sort of plan against them...but it is the best route. I also believe that it is the Six that must take action. We've uncovered the truth through our questioning of the Blood Clan Attender, his master Jordice, and a direct Commune with Anhur himself. The Raimead authorities are unwilling to accompany us in this effort until they have more solid proof. They are depending upon us to provide that. And that's what I intend to do by taking Captain Delk with us to confront the Drow. But, in order to survive that confrontation, we must cut down the numbers of those escorting the caravan...otherwise, it will be folly on our part."

The priestess finishes speaking and her eyes scan the table, stopping for a short time upon Skandor's face to see what the Sword-Bearer feels. While she looks at him, she ponders the fact that she has almost made Hannibal's argument for him. Why shouldn't Bernigan be dealth with in the same manner? 'Because we need him,' she reminds herself, 'We need him to get us close to the Drow so the Dwarves will believe us. And, we need to make a public example of him to the rest of Rinder. A man so high-placed within the government must have a public trial and execution so it will deter others from following in his footsteps. And, hopefully, it will serve as a warning to Paros as well. For once, we have the Ring of Fire, it will be his turn to face judgement.'

Crayne buts in for a moment, "Emma, I do believe it wise for us to keep at least a few of these men alive for the more witnesses the better! The more who can testify that they were employed to take the ore to the Spiked Peak the better when trying to convince the dwarves."

Emma looks toward the wizard with an expression of disbelief on her face. "When did I become a cold-blooded killer in everyone's eyes?" she asks, holding out her hands as if to suggest she's been wronged somehow by everyone's words against her, "I never said it was our duty to slay the entire caravan! I said it's only necessary to dispatch enough of them to make the final confrontation win-able."

Crayne nods, "Emma, calm yourself! I apologise if I have offended you for that was never my intention. You must know that by now. We are friends and I have made a mistake."

"Of course, we'll capture a few of the men and return with them...most notably, Bernigan," Emma says, grateful that Hannibal isn't there to argue that point any longer, "He and Jordice alone should be sufficient proof...but we'll still accept the surrender of any Blood Clansman among the caravan. We aren't without compassion here!"

The priestess, ever one for debate, is just getting warmed up and immediately launches into a counter-argument against Crayne's need for haste. "As for the rest of your plan," she states, "I disagree wholeheartedly that we need to capture the caravan before it passes Parton. The underlying goal of this entire project, which everyone seems to have forgotten, is that the Dwarves learn the truth."

"Indeed!" Crayne says, "Your words ring true! But this project can be done in a quicker manner than you suggest. And I believe uregency is important here. I fear Paros is on our trail and we must act quickly to stay ahead of him. Plus, it is all very well to deliver these wagons to the drow, but do you truly value

these drow for what they are? They are a very dangerous race and as far as I am concerned I think we should have as little to do with them as possible."

"We are talking about a single, minor house among the Drow," Emma clarifies, "Remember, we learned of their name and rank through the divinations of a priest of Nire. House D'Urdenterrad rates low among the

other houses and it seems clear that their involvement in this charade is being done without the support or knowledge of the other Drow. Presumably, they plan to use the adamantine to craft more powerful weapons to gain the upper hand in their own chaotic hierarchy. So, it's not as if we're taking on the entire race under the mountains, Crayne."

She looks around the table to make it clear to everyone else of the threat level that House D'Urdenterrad actually represents. 'They need to understand a confrontation with the Drow won't be as difficult as Crayne would have them believe,' she thinks to herself. "If we don't bring the wagons to Spiked Peak and allow Captain Delk to observe the Drow, the Great Dwarven Pact may never be renegotiated. The Dwarves and Sir Duke Bryant aren't simply going to take our word that Bernigan and his men needed to be stopped when we show up with them in Parton. Besides, capturing the caravan and detouring it back to here will take just as much time as it would to proceed to Baron Rothenshire's estate as we tail them.

"And I don't care how much haste High Priest Towers urges regarding the Ring of Fire," she affirms, "Our focus is here and now--on resolving the Dwarven blockade--and I want to make sure it's done correctly, and not in such haste that it falls apart and ruins relations between our people and the Dwarves. We both know that could be disastrous for the war efforts. So have faith, Highbrow! We can afford to take a little bit of time in this mission to see it through right."

"I fear that you do not see the bigger picture, Emma. This project is all very well, and yes, has to be completed, but in my mind what is of most importance is the treachery of Paros!" Crayne says in a hateful manner, "He is the one who we must primarily focus upon!" As Crayne speaks Paros' name again the group sees a deep hatred in his eyes. It is becoming noticable that Crayne bears a massive grudge for the High Wizard and the Red Dragon School and all they stand for.

At this point, Emma's face clouds with a bit of anger. The priestess thought they had already covered this point. "Crayne, we all agreed that Paros is not our focus right now. The Dwarven blockade is...stopping Bernigan is...renewing the good relations between our people and the Dwarves is," she says, "We will deal with Paros in good time, and not in some rushed manner that borders on paranoia. If we react that way, we'll make mistakes and that will spell our doom and the end of Rinder's Six."

The priestess takes a deep breath and calms herself for a moment. "Now, your suggestion about casting an illusion of the wagons has merit," she allows, "But, from what we've learned so far of your powers I'm not sure you could pull off something so large and make it believable enough to fool the drow. That sounds like Dire Luthor's level of expertise would be needed. And even then, it appeared during the fight on the steps of the temple that these Drow weren't affected by magic quite so easily. If they see through the illusion, our surprise would be lost. I think it makes better sense to take the real wagons, after unloading them somewhere, to pull off the ruse more believably."

"I feel I do have the power to pull this off! Afterall I fooled a bar full of thieves and Blood Clan. You must have more faith in Rinder's Six's mage!" Crayne says with an air of confidence, something not often witnessed from Crayne.

"And speaking of mages...You also seem incredibly paranoid when it comes to Paros lately," Emma states, "Certainly he seems an intelligent man, but I sincerely doubt even he has his hands on every piece of this puzzle. I think it's highly unlikely the Blood Clan would have operated that way. No, he probably knows very little about the final buyers of the ore. Bernigan seems intelligent enough to me that he would guard that secret even from the Duke's wizard, no matter how much gold Jordice has been paying him to turn a blind eye to their activities. As such, I think we have time. Paros knows a lot about us...he'll probably set up some sort of ambush upon us while we're outside Parton. In fact, who's to say he isn't the one that arranged those previous ambushes against us when performing Sir Nigel's deeds? We need to be prepared for something like that again, I think."

"Urhmmm! I fear you underestimate Paros, Emma! I am more than sure that he would have fully investigated what was going before he was willing to accept bribes. It is what the Red Dragon School do, Emma! They hide themselves in positions of strength and learn, gaining every bit of information they can lay their hands on and then use it against you when the most approriate time approaches. Maybe, I am paranoid," Crayne says with a raised eyebrow. "But I felt this way when we first met Paros. My intuition was right then wasn't it? Isn't it better to prepare for the worst? I'm sorry but I believe this Paros knows where that ore is going? Why also, I must ask myself, was Emerson in the bar that night? Could it not have been that Paros was ahead of us again? That he knew something was going to happen that night and he put Emerson there to find out what? And what still seems strange to me was how Emerson the nervous and humbled looking mage managed to dispel my magic! It is all very strange!"

The priestess doesn't bother to answer the mage any further. It is obvious to her that Crayne has decided to hold a grudge against Paros and Emerson, not because it is the rational thing to do, but because of his own selfish pride. And she recalls that selfish pride has often spelled the doom of many a good man in the Scrolls of Anhur. Emma looks across at Skandor as if to telepathically communicate that observation.

She looks to the rest of the gathering. "What do the rest of you say?" she asks, "Crayne and I have offered our opinions, and commonly enough, we have disagreed in the past, so it's not that unusual for us to do so now. You know our feelings on the matter. So I ask you...should we capture the caravan early in its trip while its still at full-strength, return with it to Parton to explain ourselves, and then make for Spiked Peak to locate the Drow? Or, do we shadow the caravan, weaken it along the way, capture it closer to its destination, and then use the empty wagons to fool the drow into coming out into the open? I prefer the latter plan because it achieves the most good at the right time. No one will become aware of our actions until Captain Delk is able to vouch for them."

Storm (and the alcohol in his bloodstream) finally calm down and relax, soaking in the words floating around the table. Surprisingly, Storm is actually listening intently for a change. This seemed to come on after Hannibal arose and left. Storm, his dwarven nature and tough body quickly detoxifying the alcohol he put in himself, finally chimes in during a lull in the conversation.

"I's said it befur, but I ain't be very good at them plannin' stuff. But I ain't be all that dumb either. I's said before I's wantin' ta take them out as soon as we can. I's guessin' that means I be votin' for an ambush or somethin' around thems woods." He takes a confirming look at the map, with some assistance from Canter. "Ya, thems woods. 'Fast and quick, in and out.' That there be a sayin' I's ain't used in loooooong time." He stops for a second, looking downward and pondering the best way to say his next words. Not raising his head, he continues. "I...er....me past...ain't quite that purty. Much like Hannibal's. I's used to be doin' what it is we's gonna be doin' soon: hittin' caravans, robbin'...I's be doin' it without knowin' I be doin' it fer evil folks..." He clenches his teeth, obviously fighting memories of a more painful time long ago. His fist clenches tight, drawing little lines of blood on his palm where his dirty nails dig in.

Suddenly he looks up, in the direction of Delk. "I been tryin' to be rid o' that time, tryin' ta get it off me soul. Me dad ain't got no reason to believe me yet, an' I suppose that be why I started with the Six...."

Realizing he's getting off the point, he shakes off his lament and continues. "Fast and quick, in and out," he repeats. "That's what I be votin' fer. As fer them drow..." he stops and thinks. "Now I ain't be fightin' them before--thought I's be wishin' I could have been there with ye--but from what I be knowin' I's ain't in any rush! I's say we stay away from Moram Stronhan if we be helpin' it." The use of the old dwarven name of Spiked Peak came surprising easy to Storm, and Delk's curious glance is the only thing that tips him off to his use of his native tongue. "Er, that be Spiked Peak. As fer dem drow, I's got one question. If we be givin' them empty caravans, ain't they gonna fight us on the spot? That seems like killin' ourselves, if ye ask me." He ends abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest, letting any who wish to still talk do so.

Skandor takes a deep breath. Things were never this complicated in school, in the training sessions, or during the war lessons. Closing his eyes for a moment, he recounts various passages from the Scrolls that might apply to this particular situation. "The Scrolls of Anhur state that the basis of war is deception. We have to assume that we will find the caravan and stop it. If we do not, then the rest is for naught, and we are defeated. Once we find this caravan, we must seize it, and the precious cargo must be deposited somewhere safe. Once this is complete, then we can focus on the main goal of revealing the plot to Captain Delk. To do that, I agree with the Shield Maiden: we should use the carts in an attempt to deceive our enemy, so that they reveal their plan. Captain Delk can see this with his own eyes, and report that to the proper people."

Turning his gaze to the elf, Elloharin, Skandor addresses him. "As my superior here has said to me before," he nods towards Emma, "Not everything is so black and white. Perhaps some of the men we face will fie. Perhaps some of us may die. In the end, it is up to us to decide if it is worth it. I would be willing to bet that Bernigan is using Blood Clan members for guard duty. The cargo is just too precious for him to trust non-Clan members. If this is true, these men know what they are doing. They have resigned themselves to Evil, regardless of the costs and risks. They understand that, in being a member of such an organization, they willingly mark themselves as law-breakers and scoundrels, common thieves. Whatever their personal reasonings, they each understand that one day, they may very well have to face the Scales of Justice for their wrongs. And in this case," he pauses, "We are the Scales of Justice."

Skandor hesitates a moment, then continues. "I do not relish killing, friend Elloharin. I do not gleefully wish to shed blood for the sake of it. But oftimes, it is necessary. And in this case, as the Shield Maiden has stated, it looks like it will be very necessary. I am resigned to the fact that, indeed, I may lose my life, but I also understand that I might have to take life, as well.

"As for Bernigan, I see that Hannibal has issues with the man. I see the benefit to capturing him alive and putting him on trial. But in the end, I understand only that he must be stopped. If it becomes impossible, for whatever reason, to take him alive, still...he must be dealt with. And if that means slaying him, then perhaps that is what Anhur has in store for him.

"I think we may be forgetting to ask an important question," Alara says, turning to Captain Delk. "Having heard what you have already, do you think the dwarves will believe that the ore is being sold to the dark elves, or do you need more proof to convince them? If you think you can convince the dwarves without actually seeing the drow buying the ore, then I suggest we take out the caravan as soon as possible and avoid going to Spiked Peak completely. However, if we need to follow the caravan all the way to the drow, then I suggest we do as Emma has planned; make several quick attacks as the wagons travel, weakening the guards until we can take them over in one final assault. Then I suggest we unload the ore somewhere safe, take the wagons the rest of the way to Spiked Peak and masquerade as the blood clansmen, to lure the drow out as proof to the good Captain here."

Delk turns to regard Alara, noting the raised eyebrows on the faces of Emma and Canter. Indeed, her question is a good one. "I'm afraid I don't know ye," he says calmly, "but after listenin' to this drivel it be nice to be spoken to." He glances around the table, looking specifically to Crayne. "My people be selling the ore to Bernigan 'cause the price is better. They don't know 'bout these drow. An' though I believe ye (if only to get ye to shut up!), me generals won't without some kinda reason, proof-like.

"Bring me Bernigan, let 'im tell me and me generals that ore not be for him, but fer them evil drow. Then we believe. Bring me the head of a drow, then we believe--and throw ye a party fer the kill!"

Bundled against the weather, Hannibal seeks out another tavern, a bit seedier, and orders a stiff drink. Slowly, and with the help of mead and beer, he takes the edge off and relaxes again. "Not all the Shield Maidens in the world will stop me from avenging you, Melinda!" Hannibal says aloud to no one in particular. Anyone in the bar who watches him strangely, of course, he stares down with a hateful look.

The next morning finds Hannibal at the original tavern, enjoying a warm breakfast and waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. He smiles pleasantly to each as they arrive, acting quite unlike the man he was the night prior.

During the morning hours, Elloharin grabs a quick breakfast and then heads out to the marketplace. Before going, he looks for Crayne to see if the mage is going shopping as well, but alas the mage is not. So he goes alone, coming back about an hour later with a handful of arrows.

Storm and Delk meet up and head to the market as well, Storm seeking the captain's assistance in finding a good light crossbow and quarrels. He exchanges his long bow and arrows for a light crossbow and quarrels, hoping that Delk can help him pick out a good one and get a fair price. He also buys enough caltrops to get his total back up to 100. When he comes back to the party, he comments when Canter asks: "That durn contraption be takin' all the skin off me arms! I be wantin' a solid dwarven weapon, not some stinkin' skin-stealer!"

With a smile, Canter takes out his own crossbow, patting it lightly. "Yup," he says to Storm, "I much prefer these, too."

By midday, the group is united and preparing for travel. Emma returns from the temple, much calmer than the night before, thanks to some time in prayer. While there, she tells Skandor, she spoke with Fallon, keeping the cleric up to date on their plans. She leads a good, strong horse toward the front of the tavern, handing the reins to Alara with a smile.

Soon everyone is packed and mounted. The crisp, clear sky is open and blue overhead, and the chilly winter air keeps the tips of noses glowing slightly red. Yet the morning sun's radiance has an encouraging effect, and soon Skandor is leading the party out of Parton, with Emma at his side and Crayne at the other. Karelth sits on the back of his nephew's steed, not wanting to leave the party for fear of his own life ("I ain't sticking around in the city with that Red Dragon lunatic!").

Travel toward Nickton along the main road southeast is easy. The party passes peasants leading mules and donkies, along with carts of hay and grain, toward the city. Some carts contain barells, presumably filled with some ales and wines (which turn Hannibal and Crayne's heads, respectively). The people look up at the party, seeing Skandor and Emma's plain symbols of Anhur proudly displayed. They often smile respectively as they pass by, but do not seem overly friendly.

It is a few hours after sundown when they arrive at Nickton, a small community just outside the rough Raimead Mountain area. The town square features the tavern "Ye Tavern of Nickton," with its familiar hitching post right out front. Just like last time Rinder's Six rode through, the shops are all closed, but the inviting conversation and warm firelight leaking from the tavern lend the square a fairly friendly ambiance--at least outside.

Hitching up their rides, the party heads for the tavern, seeing as it's the only place happenning in town. As they walk in, they can look around the room: a fireplace in the corner, surrounded by a number of small round tables. A bard in the corner stums a mandolin lightly, singing songs of love lost. A few locals sit around the tables and the small bar on the opposite side. Canter smiles as his eyes land on the staircase in the back, which he knows leads upstairs to the rooms. Indeed, it was he who arranged for the party to stay here on their previous visit. How that visit now seems so long ago...

Sitting down at one of the round tables, Alara smiles as she turns to listen to the bard sing:

"Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, because thou art not seen, Although thy breath may be rude. Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then heigh ho! the holly! This life is most jolly..."

Karelth brings a round of drink to the table, a concoction of rum which warms the stomach on these cold nights. Smiling, Canter thanks the older man for his kindness. But his eyes wander from Karleth's face to looking over his shoulder, across the room, toward the bar.

There the bartender appears to be speaking to a man, and that man doesn't appear to fit in with Nickton's relaxed, quiet atmosphere. His chest and back are covered in leather armor, and at his side a crossbow hangs from a belt. Strapped to his shin, a dagger in a leather scabbard. As their conversation becomes more heated, their voices begin to carry and the party can begin to hear it:

"No, man, no I will not!" the bartender and innkeeper insists.

"But I'm willing to pay ya a fair price!" the strange man protests.

"I will not. I need those cows. And all three? Do you have any idea how much milk and meat that is? That could feed thirty men!"

"Could you use the money?"

"Sure I could use the money, but I could use the cows, too! No! No is my final answer!"

Then the leather armor-clad man leans in to whisper to the bartender.

A look of shock flashes across the bartenders face as he leans back, away from the man. He appears appalled. "No. You heard me, no. And don't you threaten me..."

1. I had to make some edits to the text written by some players for this turn. For example, I deleted from Elloharin's speech the references to democracy, "the people," and citizens. In my opinion (and I believe history is on my side for this one!) these ideas were not particularly widespread amongst the lower or ruling classes in midieval Europe (the primary theoretical setting for this campaign). So I thought it would be extremely odd to have Rinder's Six discussing them. Likewise, I eliminated Skandor's Machiavellian "the ends justify the means" statement, seeing as Machiavelli, I think--correct me if I'm wrong--, was a Renaissance figure, also not applicable to common midieval thought. I tried my best to substitute similar phrases in both cases which were more in line with the intellectual thought of the age, to the best of my ability. (As a music major and cognitive science minor, I am not extremely well versed in midieval intellectual thought, but I do know a little!)

2. Let's discuss arrows. I think a limit must be set for how many arrows a character can fit in his or her quiver. Likewise, there should be a limit to how many crossbow quarrels a character can carry easily. I have set the limits as follows:

The standard quiver, which slings over one's shoulder for easy access, is large enough to hold a total of 24 arrows. It can be 24 flight arrows and 0 sheaf arrows, 12 and 12, or any other combination adding up to 24. That would be 12 straight rounds of rapid fire. (Keep in mind we have yet to have a battle that lasted 10 rounds in length!)

The limit for the number of crossbow quarrels a character can carry (in a similar container to a quiver, though I'm not sure what it's name is) is 36. (Quarrels, also known as Bolts, are smaller than arrows, so I figure you can carry more of them.) In most cases this is is 36 rounds-worth of ammunition at your fingertips.

This is not to say that a character can have only 24 arrows or 36 quarrels. But beyond the 24 or 36 projectiles, the extra must be stored elsewhere. They can be carried (eliminating the use of any other weapon or item in that hand), or placed in a backpack, etc. Note that if they are placed in a backpack, they can be snapped, broken, or crushed if the backpack is involved in battle! (This is not the case with quivers because they offer a little more protection.)

So, please be aware that if in battle your character uses up his or her 24 arrows or 36 quarrels, he or she must get into his or her backpack to retrieve the rest of the supply, an action that will take a round in order to complete--and assumes that in the course of the battle the arrows/quarrels in the backpack have not been crushed, broken, or snapped!

3. Purchases:

Elloharin: 30 flight arrows: 8 sp.

Storm: 1 light crossbow (dwarven-make, more expensive), 40 quarrels, exchanging 1 longbow and 27 sheaf arrows: an even trade, no exhange of money.

Storm: 30 caltrops: 6 sp.

Please update your CISs accordingly.

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