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"Private venture," Canter scoffs, trusting his friend Hannibal's hatred for Bernigan over Bernigan's own royal relations. "A private venture at a very auspicious time, I think."

Emma narrows her eyes and tries to think of a reason to explain Hannibal and Cy's absence from the group. It wouldn't do for the Dwarves to think there were more of Rinder's Six loose in the hills...and she doesn't trust Bernigan enough to tell him the truth right now anyway. Finally, she responds, saying, "The others journeyed to Marlond...presumably to meet with your Duke, though I believe they were more interested in finding you. 'Tis a pity they didn't come with us. It would have saved them a long trip..."

Naeron raises his eyebrows and turned a wry gaze toward Emma. This was a side of her he hadn't seen yet. He would have to pat her on the back for that shrewd response...

Then Crayne looks at Bernigan, the man who Hannibal had reacted so unfavourably towards. "As a private venture! That intrigues me and must intrigue General Korg for surely he would like some idea of what the purchaser was going to do with the ore."

Crayne then turns to his interpreter, "Is it not the case Korg that the Kingdom of Rinder has respected the dwarven inhabitants here in the mountains and have left you in peace? A few skirmishes maybe, but hasn't history provided you with a client who pays you on time, respects the privacy of the mountain ranges and who has protected the Kingdom from the prospect of invasion from another culture who might not take so kindly on the dwarves remaining within this mountain range. Can you not see that not only do you lose very reliable custom but you also lose the protection and the good respect to which the Kingdom of Rinder has provided you with. I can fully understand at the moment that you have some doubts about the Kingdom being able to carry on with this criteria. Nevertheless, with your new proposal to the King and the proper action taken against this suspected enemy, do you not think it wise for you to continue your treaty with Rinder? For afterall this new ore will be put to good use in fighting off the evil of the Kingdom of Caerloon. Surely now Korg my good man, aren't you or the dwarves here just a little curious as to what this private venture should be and what the ore will be used for? Can you truly believe this man here can provide you with as safe a guarantee as us in providing payment? If I were in your position a man such as me would be very doubtful about this offer.

"We are your allies, Korg, and it is important you realise just how crucial that fact maybe." Crayne nods and then continues, "Also, I must add my regret of this Bernigan being here during our negotiations! No offense meant of course, Bernigan! I am more than sure the Kingdom of Rinder will take great interest in your proposal to buy the ore!"

Bernigan smiles slyly, bowing slightly toward Crayne and sipping again from his goblet. Standing on either side of the diplomat were dwarven guards, though they appeared to be functioning as official escorts, as opposed to the guards who watched over Rinder's Six, who treated them more like prisoners.

Emma speaks again, sliding her way carefully into the conversation so as not to upset their hosts...or captors. "Bernigan?" she says, "Or Alec, as the case may be...your loyalties seem suspect at the moment and lies apparently come easily from your lips, else why would you use such a false name? How can these Dwarves trust your intentions if you hide your true self from them? Aye, the gleam of your coin is indeed powerful, but surely there are other things that motivate them? Is this not so, General? Or have the Dwarves of Raimead fallen so far into the pit of avarice that they no longer recognize the difference between good and evil?" She looks to Captain Delk to translate, waiting for General Korg's answer.

Naeron coughed and covered his mouth to hide his widening smile. Perhaps there was some sauce to this stern priestess after all. This sounded remarkably like his own words, albeit with less venom. He had to admit that she could keep her composure...

As the translation finishes, Korg's eyes narrow and he slowly lowers his goblet to the table. "[Remember, priestess, you are at my table. The Dwarven Clans will not take lightly your suggestions of dishonor and disillusionment.]"

"Bernigan, presumably you are a citizen of Rinder," Emma says, "Swearing service to the Duke of Marlond, and hence the King himself. If such were the case, you would recognize that your actions here are in opposition to the survival of our countrymen. Yet, you have engaged the Dwarves of Raimead in a deceitful act and stolen away that which might insure our armies of victory in this coming conflict. I cannot assume that the Duke of Marlond is privy to your actions, although presumably it is his coin with which you bargain. I ask you, does he seek to arm his troops as powerfully as those of Raimead in order to seize the throne from the newly appointed Regent? Or will you treat with the Caerloon enemy on his behalf and allow Marlond to fall victim to the same disgrace as Seden?"

As Bernigan contemplates his answer to those questions, Emma focuses her god-given sight upon the man. Peering into his heart, she seeks to uncover the man's true motivation, trying to discern if there is evil intent behind his actions. 'Anhur, reveal him to me,' she prays. Her concentration is determined, and after a brief moment she feels the cold chill of evil wash over her. Shivering a bit, she takes another sip of the strong dwarven wine to warm her.

"My dear priestess," Bernigan responds slowly with a wide smile. Did he not even break a sweat under this intense questioning? Apparently not! "I fulfil my role as liege to my lord Duke of Marlond to the absolute best of my ability, in the name of the gods and their avatars. But just as not every word a great cleric speaks relates directly to his lord, not every utterance of mine own relates directly to my role as liege to the Great House of Marlond. It would be naive to think so." That last sentence is pointed, and Bernigan lowers his glare directly upon Emma.

"My interest in the ore," he repeats, "as I told the Dwarven Clans, and as I told you before, is a private venture. If the Clans decide not to accept my offer, then so be it. But at the moment, mine is the best they have received. Far be it for you or I to make that determination for them. The fate of Marlond, in my best opinion, is not and will not be...directly...related to this venture. I think that is all you need to know."

Naeron stands. "Certainly the intensity of the moment has raised emotions, but know this... Speaking as the King's diplomat," he emphasizes the word 'King' for Bernigan's benefit, "That the new King of Rinder will negotiate with the dwarves in good faith and will not leave the table until an agreeable position to all parties has been reached. Unlike your newfound acquaintance, we will come to you as we always have, without secrecy and deception, without subtrefuge." He walks over as close to Bernigan as he is allowed without alarming the guards and looks him in the eye while he speaks.

"If you join this one, you will find yourself with money, good only for counting as you are hemmed in on every side by the Caerloons, and worse, the hordes of putrid orcs they call friends." He smiles and winks at Bernigan, "They may even be wielding weapons and wearing armor of adamantine. One will certainly not have to wonder where it came from.

"On the other hand, deal with King Bryant, you will have a fair sum to count and to spend to prosper your clan even further. Yes, you might have to delay the receipt during the tide of war, but with the full support of the Dwarves and the Dukes of Rinder, it need not be very long..." He then lowered his voice a bit, but still spoke loud enough for others to hear. "It's amazing the Dwarves would still put up with your deceptive presence... Despite my harsh words, everyone knows the Dwarves value Honor more than anyone in the world..."

"Watch thy tongue, Naeron of Raimead," Bernigan warns, his voice lowering and his face reddening, "Or you may find one day you no longer have it."

Naeron nearly explodes right there, but it is Crayne's voice that snaps him out of the moment.

"Ahh, yes," Crayne says as a dwarf arrives with parchment copies of the ancient Great Dwarven Pact, "now we shall see what exactly this treaty says..."

Naeron narrows his eyes at Bernigan, making sure the other diplomat knows that his little altercation would not be forgotten. With that annoying smile, still painted upon his face, Bernigan--Alec?--turns and leaves the scene, taking his dwarven escorts with him.

After a few moments, Crayne raises his face from the parchment, handing the pact to his uncle to look over. "The pact specifies a payment of fifty gold pieces per wagonload of ore," Crayne reports.

"Probably agreed upon at a time when golden pieces were harder to come by, even in this corner of the kingdom," Karelth adds, still reading through the document.

"But the treaty does not specify what kind of ore is to be delivered," Crayne concludes. "Perhaps that should be more clearly spelled out in the next draft, if I may suggest."

Once Crayne has sufficiently reviewed the Dwarven treaty, Emma looks from the mage to the Dwarven general. "Will you allow us to take this treaty and your terms to Parton then?" she asks, "On good faith, I promise you that we shall bring these negotiations to King Bryant's attention and they will be honestly and swiftly decided upon. I pray that you will honor our request, and the agreements that our forefathers made with your kinsmen, General. Rinder needs your support to face the challenges ahead, not just today, but for the foreseeable future as well."

She looks closely at the Dwarf, noting his age and assuming that he probably has an extensive family by now. "Do you have any children, General? I would assume so. And perhaps you have a daughter, yes? You would do everything you can to protect her from harm. If a Goblin came to threaten her or your family, it would soon part ways with its head, I'm sure...for a Dwarf is never far from his axe and ever ready to use it against the hateful beasts."

Her eyes seem to sparkle as she comes to her point, saying, "Well when the Kingdom of Rinder signed this treaty long ago, we would have considered one another family, I believe. A pledge of mutual defense would have been included...and rightly so, for families do look after one another. Look now then, General. Look to the south. A vast army of Caerloon soldiers allied with the Orcs of the Sinele River valley threatens your adopted sons and daughters. Will you turn away and withhold your support from them when they are in need...just because of a few simple coins offered by an untrustworthy man? As one of your adopted daughters, I beg for your attention...and your help. Please aid us once again..."

The priestess bows her head and closes her eyes, hoping that her impassioned plea won't fall upon deaf ears. She hopes that if anything can overcome the Dwarves passion for greed and the trappings of wealth, it will be their devotion and commitment to their families and Clansmen. 'Please sway their hearts and minds, Anhur...,' she mentally prays.

(95.0)

Quickly the fight was on as Hannibal moved to evade the attacks of the Goblins. Although one attack hit him, it did little to slow him down as he prepared to retaliate.

It is then that Hannibal notices two more, emerging from behind the large boulder the first four came from. "Two more!" he yells to Cy, trying to keep his partner aware of the situation.

"And any second now, we'll have eight dwarves here too..." Cy says, punctuating it with a grunt and a thrust. "...the question is, what will they think of this mess?!"

"Hopefully," Hannibal shouts over the sounds of battle, "they will be a bit thirstier for Goblin blood than our own!!!" With that, Hannibal brings his long sword down on one of the goblins faing him. The hit is strong and true, and Hannibal can quickly feel his blade slice through the creature's thick hide. In just seconds, the creature is a dead heap in front of the thief.

Cy attacks the two goblins facing him. His first attempt is thwarted when the goblin jumps aside. But his second try is splendidly successful, as he runs his blade clear through one of his goblin opponents, slaying that monster with one swoop.

(95.1)

The remaining goblin attacking Cy presses its advance furiously, stepping right over its fallen comrade. And its attack is good, striking Cy hard on the upper arm. (5 hp damage) Another goblin then emerges from the mountain path, jumping out at Cy and striking the warrior as well. (3 hp damage) "Arr!" Cy screams as he is struck by the second goblin.

Hannibal quickly blocks one attack, parrying with his blade and kicking away while rolling along the face the boulder. But he can't avoid a second goblin blade, its rusty edge catching him in the thigh and tearing open the skin. (3 hp damage)

But Hannibal is not one to give up after a mere scratch. He fights back, swinging his blade at one of the two goblins facing him. Yet his just cannot seem to strike the pesky creatures. "Damn!" he curses as he feels his blade hit nothing but the cool mountain air.

Cy, on the other hand, continues his attack furiously. So furiously, in fact, that with one strong swing, he lops off a goblin's head completely, sending the disgusting green skull flying through the air until it splatters on a nearby rockface.

(95.2)

Just then new soldiers appear on the scene--the dwarven guards. "Finally!" Hannibal calls out to them. "Come here and get these guys off me, huh?" he yells, while blocking goblish attacks all the while.

The dwarves draw their swords and call out a loud dwarven battle cry, which echoes through the mountains with great intensity. At the sound, the three remaining goblins freeze in their tracks, halting their attacks, indeed, all their actions. With a quick glance from one to another, they suddenly turn on their heels to flee, offering Cy and Hannibal one more chance to have the final word, as it were.

And they do. Cy stabs at one of the nearby goblins, slicing open the creature's leg and causing it to hobble away. Hannibal swings his sword high over his head and allows it to come crashing down, opening up a long and crooked wound down the length of another goblin's back. "That's got to hurt..." the thief says with a smile.

Soon the dwarven guards are upon the two wounded goblins, allowing the last one to get away. After slaying the creatures, one of the guards turns to Hannibal.

"[Who are you and what are you doing here?]" the guard demands.

Hannibal's eyes grow wide as he looks past the guard to Cy, standing on the other side and sheathing his sword.

Then Cy responds, speaking the dwarf's own language. "[We are warriors of Rinder, sent by the Knights of Rinder to accompany the other humans with your army. We mean you no harm. I give you the word of the Cav...]" Cy takes a gulp, shoving his sword into its holder with a forceful push, "[...of a warrior of Rinder.]"

The lead guard looks over Cy suspiciously, then to his companions, all of whom still have their weapons drawn. "[I see you have sheathed your sword, warrior of Rinder. We shall do the same. But beware we will brook no agression. Come this way.]"

"[Very well, then,]" General Korg begins, addressing Emma as well as the rest of the prisoners present, watching very carefully as Naeron returns to his seat. The half-elf periodically looks over his shoulder in the direction Bernigan left, as if memorizing the other diplomats very steps. "[You may proceed to Parton to see your new King. I will send Captain Delk with you to negotiate...'in good faith'...for the Clans.]"

"Thank you," Emma says with a soft smile, glad that her appeal did not fall on deaf ears.

"[And to guarantee your return, one of your party shall remain here, in the kind custody of the Warhammer Brigade.]" Korg looks down the length of the table, his eyes landing on Karelth. "[We would consider you a guest of the Dwarven Nation.]"

"But no!" Crayne protests. It had been so long since he had seen his uncle, and Karelth was in such a fragile condition. To leave him in the hands of these brutes?

"Very well then," Emma says, mimicing Delk's tone in the translation. "We shall also leave with us Storm, son of Thorn." Emma cocks her head and continues to smile, waiting to hear the general's reaction.

The general exhales loudly. "[Very well then,]" he replies, leaning over the table as if to up the ante. "[Then you shall also accompany the diplomat of Marlond, Alec, as an official escort, to the Castle at Parton.]"

Emma gulps hard. That was a tough pill to swallow. Naeron certainly wouldn't take too kindly to that, and Hannibal...if ever they could find Hannibal Smith...

"[Very well then,]" Cy's voice booms over the conversation, speaking directly to the general in a proud tone as if he is about to play his ace. "[Then I will stay as well. To see the honorable actions through on behalf of both sides.]"

Canter nearly spits out his mouthful of wine as he hears Cy's voice. He is about to raise his happy voice, welcoming the warrior back to the party when he realizes what Cy has done. By not associating himself with Rinder's Six, yet addressing the general directly in Dwarven, perhaps Cy can pass himself off as an impartial observer and add a bit of stablity to the obviously tenuous situation.

"And I," Hannibal says with a wide smile as his eyes meet with Canter's, "will accompany the group to Parton, to see their actions honorable through."

'Wait 'till he hears who'll be traveling with us...' Crayne thinks to himself.

There is a tense moment of silence. And then the general rises from his seat, along with Delk and is other officers. "[I expect your return in one week,]" Korg instructs Delk. "[And the blockade will continue.]"

"Hannibal!" Canter says happily as soon as he, Crayne, Emma, Naeron, Captain Delk and the "diplomat" Alec have left the Warhammer cave, "what happened to you?"

"You could say we had a little run-in with some unfriendly goblins," Hannibal responds, clapping Canter on the back. "But Cy and I took out half their group, and the dwarven guards nearby accepted us without a fight. I guess the goblins are as much of a problem to them as they are to us, huh? An enemy of an enemy is a friend, right?"

"I suppose..." Crayne says angrily.

"Don't worry," Emma says, trying to calm the mage in the darkness of the night.

"So it appears," Bernigan begins, standing near Delk, "that you are my escort."

"It appears so." Naeron says flatly, unhappy with the arrangements--and not alone in that sentiment--but realizing that they are necessary for the mission to succeed.

"And who have we here?" Bernigan asks in an exaggerated tone. "Can it be? Hannibal Smith?"

Hannibal stops in his tracks upon hearing his name, looking up from Canter's face into the darkness. The moonlight is obscured by clouds but light wasn't necessary this time. "I don't know how the hell he got here," Hannibal seethes quietly to Canter, "But had I known he were coming along I would have rather stayed with those beasts in the cave." Then he thinks for a brief second. "Or perhaps this is for the better." Hannibal smiles, thoughts of revenge on his mind.

Meanwhile, back at the Warhammer Brigade's cave, Cy, Karelth and Storm remain. "Do not worry," Cy says to Karelth while tending to a wound, "I will not let any harm come to you. Nor will I allow that ring of your to..."

"Shh!" Karelth warns, silencing Cy. The older mage smiles at the younger warrior. "Nor I you, Cyveiliog. Nor I you."

"[You there!]" a dwarven soldier calls to them as they sit before their small fire in the expansive cave and army camp. "[Thron of the Strongblade Clan is here. And he wants to see you.]"

Storm, picking at his nails, suddenly looks up. Like a child suddenly aware of a parent's presence, he straightens his back and quickly scans the room. There, standing behind the soldier, is an older dwarf with a long gray beard. He leans on a short staff, and stands slightly bent. His eyes slowly rise from their gaze at the ground and creep toward Storm's face.

HP Status: Cy: 31/39, Hannibal: 15/21

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