Birthright: The Worm's Supper, Chapter Four

[alhoon]

Somewhat confused on which person is the highest rank, Termelan stands, covers the statuette with a handkerchief to avoid touching directly and quickly puts the covered cursed item in a pocket. He looks around to see if anyone has any objections and says "I'll be back shortly. What should we tell to the priests? Would they believe us?"

[steveflam]

"Fear not Master Termelan, Lord Filbert and myself will assure the seriousness of this item."

[alhoon]

"We are all going? I assumed I would be the one to do it while you took care of the important aspects of the meeting." Termelan looks to the Halfling for confirmation.

[Adam]

Cranstel looks back and forth between his report on the poison and the sinister statue, gulping audibly.

"A fiendish poison?" he says to himself, "That may explain why I didn't recognize it. Interesting. Hmm..."

[ewancummins]

Somewhat confused on which person is the highest rank, Termelan stands, covers the statuette with a handkerchief to avoid touching directly and quickly puts the covered cursed item in a pocket. He looks around to see if anyone has any objections and says "I'll be back shortly. What should we tell to the priests? Would they believe us?"

Sir Rory looks to Filbert.

"What is your wish, my lord? I trust your judgement about how to handle this object."

While waiting for an answer, the Castellan motions to one of the guards. The armored man steps close to Termelan.

[alhoon]

Termelan waits, in a relaxed posture. He's aware that he has on his person the statuette and that his loyalties are suspect so he doesn't want to make anyone nervous or suspicious.

[steveflam]

Domenica turns around walks back to her seat. Looking at Sir Rory, she is very polite as she speaks, posture relaxed.

"Sir Rory, might I have a word with you in private a moment?"

[Adam]

SEARCHERS

Cormac, holding his torch aloft, starts scouting down into the mine shaft.

[ewancummins]

THE ELF PRISONER

After the Watchmen turns and leaves, he dumps the wooden bowl of slop the human guard had brought him, letting the vile stuff splat on the floor between his manacled feet.
Clink.

A human, night-blind clod, would not be able to pick out the key in the gloom. But even a human’s round ears could catch the noise the little brass object made as it struck the cell floor.
Quick, he snatches it up and tucks it into his ripped tunic. He watches the door close. Listens for the clatter of the lock. Does not hear it.

So, not everyone has been caught!

He withdraws the key and tries it on his manacles. The fetters fall open. He creeps to the door and listens.
The Watcher’s voice, “Come on, let’s go get some of that beer. These lot aren’t going anywhere.”
The sound of another door opening or closing, footsteps, a drop off in the light seeping through the door jamb.

He tries his cell door.
Unlocked!
He edges it open, peeks through. Nobody in sight in the dim watch room.

Stepping out—the thick arm hits him across the chest, knocking him flat on his back.
He looks up at the cloaked giant looming over him. Blue eyes glare down from under cropped blond hair. The elf scrambles to get up, but a huge right fist shoots out from the giant’s cloak and knocks him backwards into the cell. The man rushes forward, grabs his right arm with both hands and steps on his groin.
It hurts.

“Stop! I see what this is. A trick. Fine, you win, human.’' He puts on his best charm-the-stupid-brute smile. “I’ll talk.”

The big man smiles back at him. “Oh, I know you will talk.”

Pain shoots up his gut and down his leg as the man presses the boot heel harder into his private parts. He bites his lip to stifle a scream. Tastes blood.

The man, still smiling, says “But let’s not rush this.”

[ewancummins]

Domenica turns around walks back to her seat. Looking at Sir Rory, she is very polite as she speaks, posture relaxed.

"Sir Rory, might I have a word with you in private a moment?"

CAER HAES


''Of course, my lady.''

The Castellan tilts his head towards Filbert.
"I trust your judgement, as I said, my lord."

He withdraws to the hall with Domenica.

Out in the hall, he turns to her and says,
"Yes?"

[steveflam]

Domenica turns around walks back to her seat. Looking at Sir Rory, she is very polite as she speaks, posture relaxed.

"Sir Rory, might I have a word with you in private a moment?"

CAER HAES


''Of course, my lady.''

The Castellan tilts his head towards Filbert.
"I trust your judgement, as I said, my lord."

He withdraws to the hall with Domenica.

Out in the hall, he turns to her and says,
"Yes?"

Looking at the man, she smiles "Sir Rory, I am honored that I was invited to this meeting. If you must know, I would much rather be elsewhere right now. So I must ask
you to be honest with me. Why am I here exactly? We both know my history here so I was a little perplexed to find myself invited here of all places, Sire. Don't get me wrong.
As I have previously mentioned, I am honored to be here. Honest. However, I do run a growing business and some matters need my attention. I am not ungrateful for the invite,
but as anyone, I do have my priorities right now. So I need a really good reason to be here. I am not trying to be rude or impertinent, Sire. I promise. Someone close to me has died."

She pauses to give him time to respond properly.

[ewancummins]

SEARCHERS

Cormac, holding his torch aloft, starts scouting down into the mine shaft.

With the druid in the lead, the party explores the down-sloping stairway passage.

Down they go, under the mountain…

…The searchers spend the time it takes for Cormac’s torch to burn down combing through a maze of partly collapsed passages, stairways, and dead end galleries. They find the bones of small animals, rotted wooden splinters, and some tool marks on the stone walls and floors.
But then Cormac lights his second torch in one of the deepest areas of this maze, and the light reveals something no one noticed before, not even the Bard with her superior night vision. In the back floor section of a dead end passage, a bit of dull bronze gleams through a layer of debris and dust.
Searching and clearing that part of the floor, they find another bronze hatch. With effort, the strong men pry it loose. A foul stench rises from the pit below the hatchway. Cormac’s torch flares blue for a second, but then returns to the normal red glow.
Nevil remarks, “That’s ripe! Smells like a well full of pig dung.”

[ewancummins]

Domenica turns around walks back to her seat. Looking at Sir Rory, she is very polite as she speaks, posture relaxed.

"Sir Rory, might I have a word with you in private a moment?"

CAER HAES


''Of course, my lady.''

The Castellan tilts his head towards Filbert.
"I trust your judgement, as I said, my lord."

He withdraws to the hall with Domenica.

Out in the hall, he turns to her and says,
"Yes?"

Looking at the man, she smiles "Sir Rory, I am honored that I was invited to this meeting. If you must know, I would much rather be elsewhere right now. So I must ask
you to be honest with me. Why am I here exactly? We both know my history here so I was a little perplexed to find myself invited here of all places, Sire. Don't get me wrong.
As I have previously mentioned, I am honored to be here. Honest. However, I do run a growing business and some matters need my attention. I am not ungrateful for the invite,
but as anyone, I do have my priorities right now. So I need a really good reason to be here. I am not trying to be rude or impertinent, Sire. I promise. Someone close to me has died."

She pauses to give him time to respond properly.

The Castellan says,
" The Duke asked for you by name. I trust that is reason enough."

[steveflam]

Keeping a straight face, she replies "Of course, Sire. The Duke himself inviting me means what exactly?
My previous actions here were made banishable, Sire. Am I to believe all is forgotten or this is just an exception, Sire?"

[ewancummins]

Keeping a straight face, she replies "Of course, Sire. The Duke himself inviting me means what exactly?
My previous actions here were made banishable, Sire. Am I to believe all is forgotten or this is just an exception, Sire?"

Sir Rory shrugs.
"You weren't banished, my lady. His Grace sent you away with an escort to keep you safe and out of trouble. After your outburst and that show with the blade, we all thought you were losing your...balance. I've seen it before, a woman's temper fraying under the stress of a siege."
He frowns. "If I had thought you were an assassin, you wouldn't have left Caer Haes at all. So don't worry about the incident. I trust it won't recur."