The Heroes Return

Kesryk firstly tries to speak with the bugbear shaman, recognizing him as a cleric and assuming that he is in command. Hrust simply growls at him a little with sadness in his voice. It becomes apparent to Kesryk that the bugbear does not speak any Bohavian.

Winnacer, totally forgetting his guise as Witchfinder General, makes his way straight off to greet Kesryk. The cleric speaks to him as he approaches:

"I suggest we should secure our captives, and withdraw to the fortified village we hold for Spravedelna a short distance from here."

"Many in your party are badly injured and you are yourself hurt", observes Kesryk in his new role as the Lord of Holitze.

"My modest abilities to heal granted by the grace of Spravedelna are at your service in this hour of need. When you have been healed, then you may tell me your business in this part of Bohavia.

With this last utterance, he looks sharply in turn at the orc and the Witchfinder.

Quickly sheathing 'Old Bohavia, Winnacer smiles ands replies:

"Spravedelna be praised! It is a pleasure to see you again Kesryk! It seems that this time the villagers saved the rebels!"

Winnacer wipes his hand on his shirt and offers up to Kesryk. As the foreign hand extends in front of Winn, he realizes what he looks like.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Winnacer, Winnacer Stradheim. Yeah, I know what I look like, but it is a long story, Kesryk, more suitable at another time."

Kesryk stares at the Witchfinder who has claimed to be the heroic champion of Spravedelna and Bohavia, and replies coldly:

"I know Lord Winnacer Stradheim very well, sir; and you are not he. Neither is this band the one he led to free us from the tyranny of the Nyemetz. I think you would be well advised to tell us a story more closely related to the truth."

Winnacer's eyes go wide for a second before he realizes he has a bit of explaining to do.

"Before you condemn my story, please listen and see if my words are worthy of the benefit of the doubt. Since we left your villages, we have been required to assume some potent disguises, with the aid of ancient gnomish magicks that were in Heimlin's village. They haven't quite worn off yet. Actually, Heimlin is still with us, along with his daughter-in-law and grandmother. I'm sure he'd affirm my story. Look closely at each of us, and you may see what I am talking about. The man over there is Bennett and the half-elf lad over there is Will, two who have recently joined our cause. The bugbear is Shaman Hrust, whom does not speak a word of Bohavian. We can speak about that later."

Winnacer continues:

"If you still do not believe that I am not the man who took his lessons of Spravedelna under your tutelage, perhaps this will settle things. If I was truly the Witchfinder General Pavel Reinberger, who recently met a violent end, why would I have fought long and hard with this."

Winnacer offers up his trademark blade 'Old Bohavia' hilt first to Kesryk.

"In time, what I have said will become clear, so I beg of you to believe me so that we can move on and take care of more pressing issues. Upon Spravedelna's wrath, I would swear that I am Winnacer Duene Stradheim."

Kesryk comes to realize that the man before him could very well be telling the truth. The person before him certainly remembers some of the minor details from their first meeting. He decides to give Winnacer the benefit of the doubt. He orders his men to take care of the field. The majority of men are used to take care of the captured men and worgs, carefully herding them together with their hammers in hand should the captives decide to make a run for it. A couple of Kesryk's men search the battlefield for anything of use.

Almost doubling over in agony, Jihan clutches at his neck as he makes the circuit of the battlefield, collecting his dropped weapons, cleaning them and resheathing them.

Then he goes over to where Faewen'il is lying and looks her up and down, as if making sure that she is still there. That she wears Darry's form matters for naught for the concern in his eyes. He cradles her head in his hands, murmuring soothing elven words as he does so. When Kesryk approaches, Jihan looks up and over at him, his eyes smiling greeting, though he does not speak greeting, leaving that up to Winn and the others. Rather, he turns back to contemplate Faewen'il, his eyes pensive.

Once the immediate business has been taken care of, Winnacer checks on everybody, offering comfort and solace as best he can.

Firstly he walks over to Xavier, who dismounts from the injured Barbarossa. Neither horse nor rider look to be in great shape:

"Today Spravedelna was certainly with us. We stood against the odds in the cause of Justice without fear and won the day. I am again honored to have you to fight at my side and watching my back."

He then walks over to Bennett and congratulates him also. He then adds:

"I saw you choose to fight on your two feet rather than from the saddle. A choice most curious and quite brave. Do you have trouble fighting from the saddle or is it something else?"

Bennett is almost rude in denying any praise for the victory, assuring Winnacer that the combat would have gone as well with or without Bennett's presence in it:

"As to my choice to fight from the ground, I lack any ability for it. It certainly is not bravery. More I cannot say."

Bennett seems quite disconsolate about this topic and about his inability to do more in the combat and is not in any kind of mood for pats on the back. He does compliment Winnacer for the waste he laid on the worgriders, but the others note a definite tinge of envy coloring his praise. He also offers up Maire to Winnacer, until he is able to get a replacement for Juggernaut:

"She is a fine steed, and deserves a rider such as yourself."

Thanking Bennett, the young lord then moves on to the diminutive form of Yaz:

"Nice fighting, Yaz. How are you doing?"

Winn then offers Yaz the chance of Juggernaut's corpse as a meal for Viirin. Yaz agrees and barks something at the winter wolf. The wolf looks back at him a little quizzically and then Yaz barks again. Viirin rushes over to poor Juggernaut's corpse, tail wagging, and begins to feast.

Not wanting to witness the sad demise of his loyal steed, Winnacer turns his back and moves over to Will:

"You are a brave lad, you are. Nice fighting. It seems that Spravedelna will be the muse for your next creation."

Finally, he moves to the pale form of Faewen'il. He crouches down, and sits next to the severely wounded lass, placing his hand on her shoulder with a light, affirming touch:

"When I saw you fall down, Fae, I knew deep down I did not have to worry. For I know that no goblin will ever be able to silence your tongue nor any army break your spirit. Are you feeling OK? Is there anything I can do for you?"

Winnacer then sits at her side for a few minutes in quiet support, until the vigil-keeping Jihan makes him feel uncomfortable.

Bennett mumbles to himself as he wanders through the battlefield, replacing the used arrows in his quiver. He walks to the wagon and lays out the still bodies of Miklosh and the Pannon lad. He tries to talk to the bodyguard, but the Pannon just shakes his head and gives a little shrug. It becomes obvious to Bennett that neither the bodyguard nor Hrust speak Bohavian and that communication is going to be a little tricky now that both translators have been killed. He then looks toward Faewen'il, but assumes that his presence won't serve to make her feel any better and so keeps his distance.

Bennett does not speak up for his usual zeal at slaying prisoners, leaving that to the new arrivals. Also, he finally checks on Maire, who miraculously escaped the battle untouched. He particularly curses himself while tending her, though he treats her very well.

After twenty minutes, Kesryk's men have rounded up all of the worgriders and start to guide them in the direction of the village. One of his men comes up to Kesryk and gives him a small sack. Kesryk then investigates the contents and hands the sack to Winnacer:

'By rights this coin should be yours, although the tally is small. My men have collected 15 platinum pieces and 272 silver from the troopers.'

He then looks at his departing men:

'Come' he says 'We go through Sezemitze to Holitze where we shall take care of the prisoners and start the long process of healing.

Winnacer mounts Maire, giving a pained look towards Bennett. He, Xavier and Yaz ride with Kesryk while the rest of the party climb in the back of the wagon, now riddled with arrows, and they start to make the short journey to Sezemitze.

As they come over the brow of the low hill, they see the small village before them. They notice that Kesryk has obviously not taken his responsibilities lightly. In the center of the town, there is a tall watchtower rising over the village. Surrounding the village is a large trench.

Kesryk is obviously quite proud of his handiwork:

'The fortification of the villages is still underway. My intention is to imbed pointed stakes in these ditches and then cover them so that any force charging into the village would come to grief. The Nyemetz came before we had chance to finish the fortifications.'

As they enter Sezemitze, they notice that the streets of the village are empty. Kesryk explains:

'The advice that you gave to plan for a swift evacuation proved wise. We were able to see the Nyemetz approaching from a fair distance and sounded the alarm. All of the woman, children and old folk were evacuated to the fringes of the forest safely, while the Holy Hammerers escorted them. When the Nyemetz entered the villages, they found nothing of interest to them. The villages were empty of populace, and the villagers had taken all items of value with them.'

They continue into the center of the village and see Robert, the gnomes, dwarves and Min waiting for them patiently. Kesryk's eyes light up when he sees Heimlin amongst them. Any lingering doubt in his mind as to the party's true identities has now gone.

Heimlin rushes up to the party excitedly as he sees them entering, but his look turns to a little sadness as he sees the state of their injuries, particularly Faewen'il's. However, he greets Kesryk warmly and the cleric reciprocates.

After finishing his greetings, Kesryk speaks again. He is in a better mood now that he can be sure of your identities:

'We should carry on through Sezemitze to Holitze, as it is the larger of the two villages and I wish to return to the Temple this night to offer my thanks to Spravedelna.'

They carry on through the village to make the short journey to the village's larger twin. As they enter, they see that similar defenses are underway there. Entering the village, Kesryk dispatches Honza to summon the villagers and tell them that the danger has now past. The worgriders are led to a large barn where the worgs are corralled. The riders and their sargeant are relieved of their mounts and taken to the cellar of The Dancing Troll and the doors closed behind them. Two of the Holy Hammerers take up position in front of the door.

Kesryk bids them enter the tavern and they all slump at the tables. A couple of the Hammerers come round each of them and start to bind your wounds. The cleric then goes to the counter and takes a couple of bottles of wine:

'I'm afraid that we can offer only self-service at the moment. Karel the barman is serving in the Hammerers at the moment. Tomorrow we will set trial for the Nyemetz and ask Spravedelna to guide us into making the right decision. You will all be required to give evidence and decide the fates of the captives.'

He then looks at the wounded. He casts healing spells upon Faewen'il, which makes her feel quite a bit more comfortable, then upon Jihan, although the spell has little effect and finally upon Xavier:

'These are all of the healing powers that Spravedelna has granted me this day. I will call upon Her favors tomorrow afresh.'

He looks at Yaz and Shaman Hrust.

'Providing that my worshipful colleagues are able to obtain similar favors from their deities, then I am sure that we will be able to restore you all to full health in good time.'

He looks at Hrust a little suspiciously as he says this.

'So' he finishes. 'It is certainly good to see you again, and the timing of your visit was fortuitous, surely as a result of Her intervention. What brings you back to see us when I am sure that you have so many other tasks to see to?'

Although the healing energies of the shaman had closed her wound, Faewen'il could feel that her insides were not all OK. She felt weak from bloodloss and very queasy on top of it; even the thought of water was repugnant. Every inch of her body seemed to be on fire with some form of scratch and bruise and she shivered a bit in the blanket she was wrapped in.

The worse thing of all was that she lost her hold on the magic and it had added to the fatigue of her body as it fizzled itself out inside her.... Luud had never mentioned such things to her before... though how could he know that she would take up rebellion as a profession...

These thoughts as well as other more intimate thoughts flitter through her mind as she lays where they placed her; and though Jihan sees to her, she refuses to look at him... as those thoughts were somewhat painful...

Bennett shakes his doldrums when he realizes Kesryk is a Priest. He immediately offers himself up to the priest, declining the offer of healing but asking if he might have another service instead. He would speak to Kesryk privately at his earliest convenience. He is in his natural form, not that of the Witchfinder, to assuage any concern that Kesryk may have. He assures him that it would be a small service and he would give much in return.

Kesryk readily agrees to a private consultation, but asks that it be delayed until he has done what he can for the injured and made arrangements for respect to be paid to the dead:

"Hopefully Lord Stradheim will allow time for you all to remain here long enough for proper healing to occur. During this interval, we should have an opportunity for a friendly talk or two."

Bennett, surprisingly, declines the offer of drink and waits patiently until a chance to speak privately with Kesryk comes up. He also asks Xavier to speak for him to the Priest and hopefully gain his good graces. He then speaks to the dwarves, telling them it looks like they might have a job lined up already, if the town is willing to accept two extreme personalities such as theirs.

Tharnald and Darry have been very quiet through the journey, but it is obvious from their faces that they feel quite at home in the inn.

'Come on, Tharnald' says Darry as he hears Bennett's suggestion. 'Let's show the villagers what we can do'

'I don't think that that's a very good idea, Darry' replies Bennett, noticing how the villagers are already giving them some very strange glances. 'But I don't think that it would hurt to show them that there's none that know how to give people hospitality like we can.'

With that, Tharnald stands behind the bar and starts to pour pints to order. Darry disappears into the kitchen at the side and starts to see what he can cook for the customers of the thronging tavern.

Anticipating being in for a very late night, Winnacer takes time to relate an abridged version of their recent trials and tribulations. First and foremost, he asks if it would be OK to relocate Heimlin's family and the two dwarves here - at least until they manage to liberate a larger city. Winnacer also asks Kesryk his feelings about receiving other people who may need to be relocated in the future, as Winnacer is not interested in taxing the resources of the village overly.

Kesryk cheerfully consents to move the gnomes into the village, and he somewhat more doubtfully also accepts the two strange dwarves as help in the local tavern:

"Your dwarven friends appear to have some odd city ways about them" observes Kesryk, "But the times call for us all to make sacrifices. If others later also require our help, we will do what we can. In the meantime, there are hills near to Hollitze that will do very well for gnomish grottoes."

In a corner off the bar, Yaz talks with Bennett:

"Our new Slovene friends now know of the innocent town of Holitze. I'd say that puts them in some danger. If the Slovenes ever do take Bohavia for their own, the town will be known as a point of resistance, and would be a target. I think we need to kill the shaman and his bodyguard. Do you have any ideas?"

Bennett shrugs his shoulders, his attention being more devoted to another matter at the moment:

"I cannot kill someone who fought so valiantly by my side. Were it not for that silent fellow, I might not be alive, and my incompetence battling those worgs might have cost the lives of the group in the wagon. Fae might not be alive either, as he stood strong against the advance. As to the Shaman, he has been nothing but honorable to us, and I cannot, no matter how beneficial it may seem, take an offensive action against him. He is very strange for a goblinoid and I have never met one of his kind before. I would know more of him before pronouncing sentence."

Bennett falls silent, his mood contemplative, and continues to await his chance to speak with Kesryk.

Yaz thinks, then nods. "I will wait, too."

Shaman Hrust looks uneasy in the environment of the tavern. He is attracting even more curious glances than the dwarves are. The bodyguard supps at a frothing mug of ale, sitting close to the bugbear and getting agitated if anyone gets too close to either of them.

When celebrations are well under way, and everyone is in high spirits, Will stands and calls for attention to his latest creation. Pulling his harp, he begins to pluck a skippity fanciful tune.

"This is a little something that I've been toying with since the time when I came to the privilege of being in association with this group."

He then begins to sing, all the while keeping a close eye on certain members of the party for signs of anger or attack, and ready to flee.

 

"MAIRE THE MARE AND BENNETT THE ASS!"

 

"Maire the mare and Bennett the Ass;

The last named for the man, the first for the lass.

 

Only sweetness to her does he ever show;

Bennett the man, to Maire the mare.

Each time they're together, it's a terrrible row!

Bennett the man, and Maire the lass.

 

He does all her chores of carrying stuff;

Bennett the ass for Maire the lass.

When he opens his mouth, she leaves in a huff!

Bennett the man, and Maire the lass.

 

She makes sure he's eaten and laid down at night;

Maire the lass, and Bennett the ass.

Mention his name, and she's ready to fight!

Bennett the man, and Maire the lass.

 

She obediently follows his every command;

Maire the mare, and Bennett the man.

Apologies from him she does demand!

Maire the lass, of Bennett the man.

 

Its a daily struggle, so pray help from above.

Either they hate each other, or else they're in love!"

 

Will finishes out the song and bursts into laughter. Through tears of mirth, he apologizes to the couple:

"I could not resist. Please, do not beat me too severely."

Bennett raises himself up slowly with a menacing glare in Will's direction, then the act falls apart and he laughs loud and long:

"Damn you are a precocious little bastard aren't you?"

Xavier laughs with great pleasure at the song. And can be heard humming it to himself throughout the evening.

The already busy tavern starts to get even busier as the women and old folk return from their hiding places in the woods. They are soon told of the true identities of the new comers in their midst and their actions in defeating the worgriders. The party is all receiving some hearty cheers and tearful thanks from all of the villagers.

Eventually, Winnacer consults Kesryk alone:

"Before I entered this village for the first time, I had no formal belief in divinity, calling to all the gods without understanding any of them. Since you have placed Spravedelna's mark above my heart, things have been very different. It seems you made a follower out of me. I raise my sword now to defend Bohavia and to uphold the Justice mandated by Spravedelna. But while my heart is willing to follow, my mind knows little of Spravedelna's ways and rules. I was hoping that I could receive some more formal education during our stay in Holitze."

Kesryk is, of course, delighted to hear this:

"I will gladly offer you additional instruction in the ways of Justice; but to learn the true meaning of Spravedelna's will, you must learn from the Masters at the main Temple in Pardubitze. The High Priestess there will be glad to receive you."

Winnacer then tells Kesryk of your intention of trekking to Boscobelous' Tower, and asks if anyone in the village has more to say on that matter.

Kesryk thinks on this for a moment or two and then replies:

"I think I've told you about all I know of this cursed tower, but there are scholars who will undoubtably be able to tell you more. At the Temple in Pardubitze, there are several such scholars."

Throughout the evening, Kesryk is in popular demand. Eventually Jihan goes and speaks to him, saying:

"You well remember our good brother Heimlin from his last visit, I see. You may also remember that we were going to return him to his village as we were passing by this way last. Well, brother, things did not turn out as well as we would have hoped. His village had already been sacked and burned out by the Nyemetz. The old, the young, and the women were slaughtered... Only the men who were fit to work in the mines of Kutna Hora were taken, as slaves... When we arrived, we found his daughter," he says, looking towards where Bekkah sits disconsolately, "who was the last bit of entertainment for the resident goblins and orcs with their torturous ways. Her child was killed in front of her eyes... her Yosef was beaten down and dragged away. Her mind, I am afraid, and her spirit have been badly damaged by all the brutality. We had hoped that bringing her to safety would help... but it doesn't look quite like things will work that way. I was hoping that you might be able to do something to help her, brother. Spravedelna could not believe that what has happened to the girl could be called justice of any sort whatsoever. Please... can you help heal her? If you cannot, do you know any holy men or women around the area, or even the country, who might be able to? Perhaps the Padre in Pardubitze? I did not want her to be subjected to the passionless healings of those in the temple of Kitry, for, though they are good men, I believe that her condition would have been more of a curiosity rather than a real problem. That and the fact that we would have to travel some distance towards relatively more permanent safety, putting her under undue stress which may have led to a regression, brought me towards this way of thinking."

'Of course I will help you and the gnomish girl' replies Kesryk. 'I will see to her on the morrow when I have more time available to me. I am sure that I will be able to find a remedy for her situation.'

Winnacer then approaches Jihan, sitting down next to him with a bottle of wine:

"Jihan, my brother, you have been an integral part of the cause. But as of late, it seems that your mind has been elsewhere. Some of the usual enthusiasm for life that pervades your personality has ebbed. Is there anything you wish to talk about? Anything on your mind at all?"

Jihan looks Winnacer up and down, then sighs and pats the spot beside him for the young warrior to sit. He gladly accepts the wine bottle, cradling it towards himself and taking large draughts from it occasionally.

"Winn Winn Winn... I don't know if you know what it's like to be so torn up inside. To feel your heart stretched on the rack of responsibility, and stretched to breaking. I've been thinking a lot these past few days, thinking and dreaming perhaps. But I don't know if I've really solved anything, in my head at least. Winn, why did Darius have to do as he did? Why couldn't he wait just a week, or even a few days so that we could bring the gnomes to safety? Why didn't he? Why couldn't he? I know that it's hard... very hard to deny your heart and what it tells you to do... But is it right? Is it 'just' to abandon your companions, your friends who are depending on you, your brothers who care about your safety enough to sacrifice their own lives? I can't understand it, brother... Why?"

Winnacer nods the affirmative to Jihan's pondering before answering:

"A true answer to this question most likely lies well beyond any speculation I could make. But you have not been the only one contemplating this, and if it suits you, I will share my thoughts with you."

"Darius, although an ally and a friend, is not like any of us. From the stories we have heard, we all have had some traumatic childhood experiences, but whatever may have happened cannot rival the enslavement and torture he has received at perhaps countless hands. Also, he is a goblin who is experiencing freedom for the first time in a world that generally loathes his race. He is being exposed to new concepts that seem to be rare within goblinoid society, things such as altruism, loyalty, sacrifice, and moral questioning. It may well be that our brother Darius has never thought in terms outside of himself until meeting us."

"With a whole new pallet of emotions and ideas opened up in front of him, he may have been confused or overly-zealous. We have had a lifetime of experience with these ideas and often make mistakes or allow our beliefs to cloud our judgement. It could be plausible that Darius for the first time felt strongly about an idea, the idea that dominates yours and Yaz's life, and felt compelled to do something about it. Perhaps he needs to prove to himself that he has the ability to rise above the stereotypes of his race and live to a higher ideal. His choice was about what type of being he wants to be, one concerned with defending those imprisoned and weak as he once was."

"Why he could not wait can be a mistake of inexperience or just the way the goblin is. He is impetuous and it is this trait that most likely will lead him to ruin. But it is neither our place to police him nor to ignore our other responsibilities when his internal compass points in odd directions. Perhaps, in time, he will learn the need for judgement. And maybe he'll one day understand the moral idea of sticking by your friends even when it does not suit you, a lesson that the rest of us learned ages ago."

It seems that Jihan is partially avoiding another subject that's touching him deeply, as his eyes seem focussed on something far away. Yet he volunteers nothing on this, as things are still muddled in the whirl of thought that is his mind...

Winn avoids that subject until Jihan is more ready to address it, not wanting to push him too much nor be overly-paternal as he is prone to be.

Jihan is alone with his thoughts for a long while after speaking with Winnacer, then the elf goes to speak with Will, who is taking a break from entertaining the villagers:

"Every army needs scouts... Though it is a dangerous job, it is one that is necessary in the utmost. I know that you are acquainted with the ways of stealth, and the ways of the woods. If you are a ranger in the truest sense, as was my father and his brother, then you know how important it is to have someone warding the front of the advancing party, and keeping innocents safe from the ravages of the fiercer beasts. I have already begun training a group of people here in the rudiments of bow usage, and they have been progressing well. I think that it may be time for keen eyes to seek out those who may take well to the ways of stealth, and find those who are willing to train for positions equal in danger and importance. What say you, brother? Would you help me find and train such people? With our eyes together, I am sure that none capable will escape our notice."

"True, the way of a scout is dangerous but essential for any fighting force" agrees Will. "The mental alertness required for the job cannot be denied."

Will seems to be most comfortable around Jihan, readily speaking even more openly than he does with others of the party.

"I cannot boast of my abilities though, Jihan," his look is of sincere truth," I am still but a novice myself, and when I offered to help you in scouting earlier, it was not at all due to any belief that my skills equaled or excelled yours. They don't. I was only concerned for your safety."

"I will do my best though and keep an eye out. I will also stand as your second in the instruction of these folk and deliver any words of wisdom that I may."

The elf nods and puts a hand on Will's shoulder, smiling a smile that almost shows in his eyes. He then gestures to the lariat at the man's belt.

"There was an old merchant that I guided several times who came from the sea. He gave me a watertight chest to keep my books in for payment at one point, but I was more interested in the knowledge he could bestow. He told me many stories of the sea and the workings of ships, both of which I have never seen in the truth of their extent. But he also told me much about knotwork and cordmaking, something that I had been interested in for some time. He showed me how to splice limbs with cord, and how to construct a shelter employing such with thatch and mud. He showed me the difference between hitches and loops and slides. I've used this knowledge many times to construct snares and other traps to keep away dangerously sick animals from our camps, along with other... more vicious beasts that walk on two legs. I am always careful to deconstruct them the next day, as their potential must be respected and dealt with accordingly. This is another thing that I had planned to teach our scouting students. I see you seem to have some interest in it as well, brother."

With that he pulls out a length of his spidersilk rope that he has bound at the end into a loop in emulation of the one at Will's belt. He twirls it around in the air experimentally a few times, then brings it down towards his feet, quickly stepping into and out of it again as he swings it like a pendulum across his body.

"I've never really thought of using a rope this way, brother, but I've been watching. Is this really of much use in a fight? I can imagine the possibilities for such now for dismounting enemies or binding their limbs to their sides. Hmmm..."

He continues to twirl it about him, seeming in no way uncomfortable or unused to having such an amount of rope spinning about in danger of entangling him. Though he doesn't have the flair with which the half-elf spins it about, and doesn't know a trick from his backside, he looks capable with it. He tries a throw at a post planted in the ground, missing it on the first try, but quickly reeling in the rope for another attempt. The second time he hits it, and smiles.

"A useful device indeed, brother. Can this be employed from horseback as easily? Perhaps the Holy Hammerers could be instructed in its use, as justice does not always come on the face of steel..."

"Excellent!" exclaims Will. "Have you done this before?"

He then pulls his rope and lasso from his belt and gives some instruction on the finer points:

"Tie your slip knot a little tighter, like so.... Follow through.... Go ahead and be reeling in the slack with your other hand....."

"From horseback?" Will answers," I suppose I could do it from sitting the saddle, but I am barely capable of holding on in a trot or gallop, much less doing anything else. Hopefully with more riding practice, you and I can test the idea together."

Speaking with Jihan and seeing the sadness in his eyes despite the conversation, gives Will an idea. He speaks with the real Tharnald and Darry about the situation between Jihan and Faewen'il as he sees the two dwarves taking a break during the very busy evening:

"Listen tight boys, I've got a task for someone with just the flair for match-making that you two seem like you just might have."

'How did you know we were tight?' asks Tharnald, cheekily. 'Were you peaking into our tent last night?' The two of them start to collapse into hysterics.

Will ignores them and carries on:

"You see, Jihan is bowled over with that girl Faewen'il. I'm sure you've noticed. But the lad is just too shy to take the relationship beyond where it stands now."

"Faewen'il too seems to be somewhat taken with Jihan. But neither seems to know what to do about it."

'So you want us to give them a demonstration?' asks Darry, hopefully.

"No" replies Will, becoming even more embarrassed. "What I need from you is this: Once their illusionary forms have dissipated and their true forms returned, I intend to give them some aid in deciding if this is indeed what they want or not."

'Why wait until then?' asks Tharnald. 'I think that they make a lovely couple as they are now. Don't they, Darry?'

Darry agrees whole-heartedly.

"If it works out, lovely!" continues Will. "If not, then they can be a little more comfortable in the presence of one another as just friends and comrades."

"Hopefully this will happen here while we have some respite from our journeys."

"Once the two of you are set up as barkeeps here in town, invite the two of them in to taste test your first supper in the new kitchen. Tell them to clean up and dress nicely so as not to insult the cooks."

"Jihan and I will be spending quite a bit of time together here in town, so I will see to it that Jihan is there and prepared in a gentlemanly fashion if you two can see to Faewen'il."

'Oh we've already given Faewen'il a good seeing to!' replies Tharnald, sending the two of them into hysterics once more.

"I will supply you with something presentable for her to wear if you can get her to wear it."

'We can get her to wear whatever we like. I'm sure about that' interrupts Darry.

"Gussy up the tavern a bit. You know candles, the best wine, all that sort of stuff. And I know from experience that you can cook up quite an entrancing meal."

'Oh yes, I can cook up lots of interesting things' grins Darry.

"I will be present to set the atmosphere with music, and to prod Jihan along if needed"

'I've always reckoned Jihan's needed a good prodding!' Tharnald says, his eyes starting to water from the hysterics.

'Or just help keep the conversation flowing and keep it from getting too heavy' continues Will, starting to really wonder whether speaking with the two dwarves was such a wise idea.

"And we will just let the night take them wherever they wish to go."

'So which knight's going to be taking them?' asks Darry, getting a little confused.

"Hopefully it will stimulate them to talk through this time of uncertainty that they are facing," finishes Will, very relieved.

'Well if THAT doesn't stimulate them, then perhaps Tharnald and I could provide some stimulation instead!' The two of them collapse into hysterics again.

'Don't worry, Willie' says Tharnald finally. 'We won't go down on you...errm…let you down, I mean!'

Then the bar starts to get busy again and so the two dwarves get back to work.

Will then goes on to speak with Yaz:

"Yaz, I need you to help me coordinate the evening. They will also need a coachman who can escort them to the appropriate place and then make his way back to leave them alone to work this thing out in peace."

Yaz looks a little befuddled at the request, but shrugs:

"Yeah,okay..." he says, with a slightly quizzical look.

He then reaches into his small sack and pulls out a blue bundle. He hands it to the bard.

"My suit. Maybe you can get it altered. Or get Maire' to sew it up. She did a number on my torn leather vest way back."

Yaz stops for a sec.

"Oh, wait... maybe that wouldn't be a good idea...!" Yaz grins and laughs as he realizes he's being stupid.

"Maybe I can get together a wolfish moonlight serenade... or fiddle-playing gophers or something. What do you think? Shall I talk to my buddy Walt?"

Will laughs and claps Yaz on the shoulder,

"Gophers?" he laughs, "I'll trust your judgement on that!"

"Thank you my friend."

Eventually, sufficient strength returns to Faewen'il that she is able to shakily get to her feet and gather up her pack to dig out her books to make sure that they remained undamaged in all the fracas.

In order to give her mind something to do other than think about how much she still hurt, Faewen'il waited her turn to speak with Kesryk.

"Ye be doin good.... with tha escape plan.... parhaps ye should take it one step further now.... and make bolt holes and provision them against raids.... people be travellin faster iffin they donna have ta bring food an vitals with them...."

"Thar be a fur farm nae ta far from here... iffin ye moved upon it an took some o their traps... ye could be usin them ta defend yar bolt holes...rather than baitin 'em, ye could simply be hidin them.... no harm to tha animals as they not bein lured by food.... an it be better use o tha traps than they be used for now...."

"They be raisin worgs in tha fur farm for Nyemetz use... so ye would be doin tha cause a good turn iffin ye choose ta go.... just me thoughts ...."

While waiting for the answer, Faewen'il makes a show of getting up and getting her own hot water for some tea. It is truly quite a task not to fall on her face or bump into things, even though she walks slowly and with purpose. By the time she gets back to her seat with the hot water, she has worked up a small sweat that she hopes doesn't show.

Kesryk listens to Fae's suggestions while trying to make her more comfortable. Since he has expended the full extend of Spravedelna's blessings for this day, he cannot perform another healing spell; but he uses such medical knowledge as he has in his own right (which is considerable) to aid with her healing.

"Your strategies for the defense of the villagers are well received", he says, "and I will see that they are implemented. As to the traps around the fur farm, there are lads in these villages who are familiar with that area; and I will set them to gathering in some of the outlying traps for the use you describe. All this will be done in Spravedelna's name; but in the meantime, you must rest and allow your body to heal."

As the drinking and merry-making continues, Kesryk decides that he has more important tasks to consider and so retires to the Shrine of Spravedelna to gives thanks for the Villages' second salvation.

The celebrations and conversations in The Dancing Troll carry on into the small hours until the discomfort from the party members' wounds make themselves known to them all and they decide to call it a night and look to retire for the evening.

As before, the villagers offer them their beds for the night, in gratitude for saving their village again.