(Pathfinder) The Curse of the Crimson Throne IC

[Blisstake]

"Wonderful," says Aldrin in a dry voice. "Just when you think you're finally done fixing the last damn problem in this city, something new comes up. We might as well return to the Castle... right after taking everything of value here, of course," he finishes, scooping up the more expensive books, and placing them in his bag.

[Drothmal]

The fencer helps with collecting anything that looks valuable. It would be illogical to leave anything that could be used by the party in their attempts to keep the city safe. Upon picking up the spellbook, the magus will say

I will need to borrow this for a short time to copy the spells within into my own spellbook. Afterwards, the most efficient option would be to sell it and use the money to equip ourselves.


After finding the note and Dastan speech, Rennard nods at the paladin's words Ineed, we should report back to the Castle. We should also warm Field Marshall Kroft about this new threat

But I am worried about this threat turning to the oracle, the duelist asks Jensi, do you think Zellara would be of help here? As a spirit, she might have felt something if a large necromantic spell was at work...

[Leviathan]

The party returns to the surface, retracing the route through the winding tunnels of the Dead Warrens, and stepping over the corpses of slain monstrosities. Even the dull grey daylight makes weak eyes squint as you emerge into the desolate and quiet Grey District, the barren hills and cold headstones of which seem to stifle sound and mute frivolity. It is a solemn trudge back into the busy streets of the city.

-------------------------

When you arrive back at the Castle, you are escorted back into the Council Chamber, in which you were assigned your task. The guards eye the Shoanti warrior's corpse with suspicion, but they have their orders.

Kroft is visibly relieved as you enter the sumptuous room. Thousand-Bones too inclines his head in quiet thanks. "I will prepare the body so that the spirit may depart," the Shoanti elder murmurs softly, exiting the room alongside two servants, who heft the body on a stretcher. He turns before leaving. "My people thank you; you have saved us from great misery. All the Quahs will hear of your deeds, and war will not come, spirits willing." He bows his head again, and then is gone.

The Field Marshal sighs, looking over your sullied clothes and the other evident signs of your tribulations. "I doubt that was simple. It never is, somehow. But at least everything seems to be back to normal for them moment. No riots. No renegade guards. No indignant barbarians. Which means we can all get some damned rest." Cressida smiles wanly. "I'm sure you have business, even if it's just spending this -" she hands over a sack of coins - "- but I'd suggest you relax after that. I'll contact you if there's work to be done, and I'm sure there will, at some point. But for now, this is victory."

Spoiler

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Reward of 300 gp each.

Free RP time: you can buy stuff, talk to any NPCs you know, and otherwise do stuff around town. When you're ready to move on, let me know in the OOC thread.

[Blisstake]

Aldrin closes his eyes and rubs his temples after they successfully deliver the corpse to Thousand-Bones. The whole day had been rather tiring; not only because of their task of retrieving the corpse, but also the new that his family was being put to execution, and the ominous message left behind in the Warrens. Despite his exhaustion, the sorcerer is not quite ready to end the day.

"So we're done." he states in a coarse voice. "Good. If anyone needs me, I'll be getting piss-drunk at the nearest tavern."

Without any further comment, he turns his back to the group and makes his way out of the Castle.

[SanguinePenguin]

Atavian was feeling easier around the beyonder, but, still, he wanted him gone. "Thank you for your help, Tallox."

"Of course... you've done well. Just remember what you still need to do," Tallox looked commandingly at the halfling who choked out an affirmation before dismissing the beyonder. He wanted to go talk to someone - anyone, really - but everyone he's ever cared about is dead. Aside from Tallox, the people in this room are the only ones he feels any connection with at all...

Atavian looks to the rest of his comrades for a second, then cries, "Aldrin, wait for me!" The little halfling hurries off after the sorcerer.

[DaedalusMkV]

As his sorceror companion hurries out of the room, Dastan calls out to him, "Good night, Aldrin, and be safe. I will see you again on the morrow."

Dastan takes the gold offered to him, then quickly replies. "I am not so sure of that, Lady Marshall. In the depths of the Grey Warrens, we happened upon a Necromancer pilfering and animating the corpses deposited there. He had already built a small army by the time we arrived, and made repeated mention of a 'Master'." The paladin stops for a moment, reaching into his pocket to bring forth the note found on the corpse earlier and holding it out to her. "This note confirms that he was in the employ of some higher, more powerful figure and implies that this 'Master' intends to strike back. I fear that this could be a forewarning of a severe threat to the security of Korvosa... Even a single Necromancer, determined to cause harm, could kill dozens if left unchecked. A conspiracy of them..." His voice turns grim at the prospect, and he settles back and waits for the Marshall's reaction.

[Leviathan]

Kroft sighs again. "That may be, but there's not much we can do about it until we get a lead. I'll start working on that. The Church of Pharasma should be made aware, and my contacts might have heard some whisperings underground about necromancers. If something comes up, you'll be the first to know, but we can't go chasing shadows."

Aldrin and Atavian

The Sticky Mermaid is notorious throughout Korvosa for the ability of its spirits to render the imbiber dead-drunk with incredible alacrity, besting the numerous city's numerous taverns and drinking halls in that field. It is a dirty building: the walls on both the inside and outside are coated with grime and soot, and the thatched roof looks like it has gone without repairs for some time.

The barman is a greasy-haired human with a pinched, rat-like face and a stained apron. "What can I get ya?" he calls out as he spots you entering.

All around, the room is abuzz with raucous laughter and conversation...

"...Sho I'd shay to that whensh...gimme back tha king... Or I'd kissh 'er, 'cause I 'shink she's a looker."

"...I 'eard that th' Queen poisoned 'im t' get 'is money..."

"Naw, the Queen shaid that shesh gonna find th' killersh, but I know she ish the one that paid 'em!"

"...My mate got 'is 'and chopped off 'cause he smashed some stuff. They should chop off th' wench's 'and fer stealin' th' crown!"

[RocketMan]

Jensi

"I think I'll come too!" Jensi says brightly. "People always say taverns are a lot of fun. Is that true? I've never had any gold to spend, so I've never been before. And the Clan Elder wouldn't let me - she said they were 'too dangerous' - full of bad men and alcohol and wrenches." Jensi looks a little sad at the memory. "I still don't understand what's wrong with wrenches," the youth adds mournfully as he walks along with Aldrin and Atavian.

Stepping into the tavern, Jensi looks supremely unsure of what to do next. He jumps nearly a foot in the air when the barman calls out.

"I don't know, what can you get me? Do you mean like" - he gulps - "alcohol?" Am I allowed? Do you know what it tastes like? Because I don't really like anything that is too sour. Okay, could you get me an alcohol, unless it's too sour?"

[Blisstake]

"I'll have something strong and disgusting," Aldrin requests, looking at the summoner and oracle that joined him. Why exactly did he think letting Jensi come was a good idea? Maybe the humor factor... that must be it. "And water down whatever you're giving my friend here."

While waiting for the drinks to arrive, Aldrin turns to the two and asks, "So... how did you two even get in this whole mess? Why were you stopping Lamm?"

[Leviathan]

The barman's eyebrows rise up his balding forehead after hearing Jensi's unusual request. "Err, has he been in his drinks already," he hisses to Aldrin and Atavian. "Or into Shiver?"

Regardless, the man turns his back to you, fiddling with the various kegs behind him. A moment later, he turns back, two tankards in hand. "One fishjack for the gentleman who wants to be disgusted and drunk - extra disgusting if ya ask what's in it. And one ale for the young master." To Aldrin and Atavian, he adds, "with half the Jeggere's water in it."

[DaedalusMkV]

"Very well, Marshall. I will do what I can on my own. Perhaps between us, we can defeat this threat before it is ready to strike. In the mean time, if you require further assistance do not hestitate to contact me." He raises his fist to his chest in salute then backs away and moves to leave the room. On the way out, he turns to Rennard and adresses him in a far more informal tone than you're used to. "Well Rennard, it seems the others have all decided that an evening of entertainment is in order. Perhaps we should visit that Academy of yours, make sure that Lamm's orphans haven't driven your old Master insane? I think it's about time to check on them, and I believe you said the other day you had more to say to Maestro Orsini."

[Drothmal]

"Well Rennard, it seems the others have all decided that an evening of entertainment is in order. Perhaps we should visit that Academy of yours, make sure that Lamm's orphans haven't driven your old Master insane? I think it's about time to check on them, and I believe you said the other day you had more to say to Maestro Orsini."

The fencer nods Indeed, the Maestro asked me to return whenever I had the chance, and I'd rather use this time efficiently. Follow me without another word, Rennard leads the paladin (and whoever else wants to go) to the Academy

[Leviathan]

Rennard and Dastan

The pair of swordsmen arrive at Vencarlo's Academy. The white marble building is impressive, ringed by well-pruned hedges. Opening the polished doors, the pair is greeted by a clatter of wooden weapons and a rain of high-pitched, ferocious yelling.

The source is quickly made apparent: in the main training hall, the orphans are fighting a pitched free-for-all with training swords, battering away blithely at each other, still grubby and uncouth despite their days of relative luxury. All the while, Vencarlo stands off to the side, waving his hands frantically and calling out in a lilting voice obviously unused to dealing with such things: "Children, children, put the swords down! Go back to your rooms! Children!"

It is to no avail...

[Drothmal]

Rennard is appalled at the sight. No one disrespected the Maestro in the fencer's presence

Dastan, I will proceed to disarm the boys the duelist clarifies, deciding that a clarification would be the most effective method to avoid a misunderstanding with the paladin

Without another word, the magus walks towards the battle royal (picking his path as to be able to retrieve a practice sword) and proceeds to disarm the boys one by one, sending their weapons flying

Spoiler

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I'm assuming that no rolls need to be done and that the Orphans will not be taking AoO at Rennard for disarming them. Let me know if this is not true

Once all of the orphans are disarmed, the duelist repeats his mentor's words in a tone that admits no dialogue

Heed the Maestro and go back to your rooms.


If the kids go away, the duelist will approach Vencarlo and salute him with great deference

Maestro, I apologize for their behavior. I did not mean to trouble you so. This place seemed the only logical place to bring them in order to save them from a grim future. But I will respect any decision you make with respect to them.

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi eyes his watered-down ale curiously, as if expecting it to suddenly make a miraculous transformation, or explode. He takes a tentative sip. It tastes unremarkable. Putting his mug down, he looks momentarily disappointed. "Huh. I wonder why people make so much of a fuss about alcohol?"

"It was my Clan," Jensi says, a little evasively, in response to Aldrin's query. He hasn't told his new friends much about his Clan - it's not really a subject he likes to talk about. It makes him sad. "Gaedren Lamm owned the buildings we lived in, and made us give him a lot of gold to stay there. One day, we stopped being about to pay." The oracle looks down at his mug. He doesn't like telling people what happened next - he doesn't like bringing back the memories, and nobody believes him anyways.

"Gaedren I guess thought that he could get his gold by selling slaves," Jensi continues quietly, hard to hear over the noises of the bar. "I don't know why he picked me, maybe because I've got magic - does that make a slave more valuable?"

"It's probably good, though," Jensi says, looking back up at his friends, voice still soft. "Because I got away, and I don't think anyone else would have. Nobody believes me when I tell them, but Shelyn helped me escape. She broke the chains and let me walk past the guards without them seeing," Jensi says wide-eyed, as if he himself doesn't entirely believe what transpired.

"So that's my story," he says, smiling weakly. "Now you have to tell me yours!"

[Leviathan]

Rennard and Dastan

Some of the children offer a few half-hearted whacks at Rennard, but they don't want to go after an adult (just each other), and so the duelist is able to in short order gather up their wooden blades. Then he shoos them off; they retreat down a hallways with a few parting words: "Sorry, mister; we wus just havin' sum fun."

Vencarlo smiles at Rennard's comment. "I am not, as a matter of fact, going to throw these children out simply because they display more enthusiasm than many of my paid students. No, Rennard, I was concerned for their safety. I have dealt, you see, with enough irritable people in my time to know that disregarding them is not prudent. And besides, is compassion not praised as a high virtue of character?"

Then the Academy's master claps his hands together, his bright eyes gleaming. "Now, I believe you have come about your sword, Rennard. And you, Master Paladin, are welcome to listen, or else I offer you my full hospitality with respect to the Academy."

"It is quite the tale. I knew your father, when he still lived. He was a fine swordsman, and a fine man. We never quite saw eye to eye on some things until the end, though." Vencarlo pauses and sighs mournfully.

"Daland was a man of high ideals, you understand. He did not always approve of my passivity, but we trusted each other. And one day, long ago, he met your mother. They were so alike, and yet different; I cannot begin to describe it... You came into the world, and your mother vanished. I do not know where she went, or why, but she was gone."

"Your father told me that he found that blade of yours on the day she disappeared. A parting gift, perhaps. It never left his side until the end."

Vencarlo clears his throat, seeming slightly embarrassed. "But here is the peculiar part. On the day your father died, I was given a... message. In a dream. It was your mother's voice, and it told me where to find you, in that alleyway in the dead of night. I have since come to believe that your sword had that effect. I have no proof, of course, but it seems that there is some latent power within it."

[Drothmal]

The fencer had heard some of this story from the Maestro once, a few years ago, on the night where Vencarlo had forced the duelist to unleash his powers for the first time.

Solemnly, Rennard pulls Reve from it sheathe and looks at the ebony blade. Could the rapier hold a greater power than what the magus had ever imagined?

Could it hold the key to finding more about his mother?


With a gentle touch the duelist caresses the slender blade. At the touch of the dark steel, something within Rennard's very soul stirs. The fencer feels as if someone is calling him, but he does not know who or why

Without knowing why (and despite the alarms in his head that he is being irrational), the fencer begins reaching deep within himself, calling forth all the arcane power he can muster.

I am Rennard, son of Daland, and I proudly bear the name of Balmont. the magus calls to the blade I will honor my family name and will dedicate my life to my father's ideals

This I swear on my name,
this I swear on my skills,
this I swear on my power

At the last word, the magus unleashes all his remaining power into the blade, calling upon every ounce of magical and physical strength he can muster and infusing the blade with a torrent of arcane energy


And a reply resounds inside the magus' mind

And I, Reve Blanche, accept your oath
I hereby pledge my services to you
I will be your steel when action is needed
I will be your sheathe when peace is afoot
With this, our covenant is made
And from this day on, our fates are intertwined

The voice is that of of a young woman. It is a mesmerizing sound, delicate and educated, yet full of faith and conviction

For the briefest of moments, Rennard's peripheral vision detects a female figure to his side. But the moment the duelist looks in that direction, there is only empty air

Worry not, my Bonded, I am still here. I am yet not strong enough for you to see me, but that time will surely come. For now, I will stay in your mind, from where you can always call on me

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan waits patiently through the conversation between Rennard and the Maestro, not making any comments of his own. Indeed, he remains almost completely still and silent until the intense duelist finishes his impassioned oath. At this point the Paladin intones solemnly, "I bear witness, in the name of Iomedae. Your oath is heard." Then, he looks around and shakes his head. When he talks again, he speaks slowly and thoughtfully. "Odd. I had no intention of saying anything at all. I suppose some old lesson from the Tempering Hall must have compelled me. I do apologize for the presumption." Nonetheless, he continues to look thoughtful. For the first time, you get the impression that Dastan may not be saying everything. "My own concerns are mostly alleviated, Maestro. I had come primarily to check that the children were faring well, and it seems that they're quite happy here. If you have no objections, I would like to speak to them for a few moments. Now that they're settled in and at ease, I had hoped to ask about another child that went missing some weeks ago..."

[Leviathan]

Dastan

You depart Vencarlo and Rennard, following the recently-departed orphans.

The dormitory housing the children is spartan, but not cruelly so. The beds are not hard, the lighting is sufficient, and the fireplace is stocked with wood. The orphans have made the room their own, though: a torn canvas banner, smeared with red and blue and purple reads: "The Formar Lamms Lams Ceep Out Or Dy." Nonetheless, you do not "dy" as you enter. Instead, you are greeted by several of the children.

"Cool, huh? I painted th' purple bits!"

"I still wonts yer sword, mister!"

"Didcha see me in our trainin'? I kicked butt!"

The oldest of them, a lean, boy of about 12, approaches. "Anythin' I can do for ya?" he queries.

[Blisstake]

Aldrin looks as the thick liquid in front of him, and takes a gulp. His taste buds shrivel in revulsion. "Oh, that's foul," he says surprised. "Perfect."

He looks at the table while he responds to Jensi, "It's not a very good story, but I imagine you suspect that already," he begins, while reaching into his bag, pulling out a strangely-shaped dagger. A rune Aldrin was never able to identify adorns the hilt, and the curve makes it impractical for fighting with. "This is the only item I salvaged from the Cress family. Now that I think about it, the dagger is probably meant for blood rituals, or maybe even sacrificies. All I know is that the Hellknights didn't want it, or never found it." He pauses for a few seconds, staring at the blade before setting it down on the table.

"Maybe I should start at the begining. I knew Gaedren Lamm a few years before this all happened, because my parents were... business partners with him, in a manner of speaking. We knew about his despicable actions, and he knew many secrets about my family, many that I don't even know. They were all wizards, you see, and... perhpas they dealt with magics that are better left unknown. I was one day away from being sent to Acadamae myself. But there was one night where I heard Lamm arguing with my parents in the foyer. Apparently one of their deals went wrong, and he told them that they would pay." He takes two more large gulps of the fishjack, shuddering again at the taste before continuing.

"The next day Hellknights raided our house. We were all taked to Citadel Vraid and interrogated. I didn't tell those bastards a damn thing about my family, and after a few days in captivity, they just let me go. I suppose they couldn't find anything to incriminate me, but the same can't be said about my parents or sisters. They have a life sentence... they're up for execution even." The sorcerer's eyes seem to gleam brightly, as if a fire in his eyes is being lit.

"And the first thing I wanted to do was murder the man who took away and completely altered my life. I wanted him to bleed and scream for mercy. Because, even without magical training, I still had powers. I don't know if it's because of some bargain my father made with devils years ago, or if my burning hatred attracted an infernal patron, or if my soul just belongs to the Hells now, but I still had power, and I used it." He looks up from his drink to Jensi and Atavian, and his face forms a twisted smile. "You know the rest. We did make him pay... we made him bleed. I wasn't a killer before this whole mess started, and perhaps that's why I'm not about to be executed like the rest of my family, but this man sure turned me into one."

[Drothmal]

Rennard watches the paladin go, not mentioning that the blade also heard the duelist's oath

But you want to tell him, don't you, my bonded? whispers Reve inside of the fencer's mind

He might think me deranged, placing an unnecessary strain in our recently formed fellowship. Mentioning about you is inefficient replies the magus

You should have faith in your companions, my darling. They have stuck with you through worse things than a magical sword communicating telepathically with you retorts the blade

My darling? Rennard says, raising an imaginary eyebrow

Reve breaks into laughter inside of the magus' head. It is a clear and vibrant sound, full of joy

You would not be so skeptical if you could see me, my bonded. not sure how, but Rennard can feel the presence inside his mind winking. In a more serious tone, the blade continues

My bonded, I would advice that you come clean with your friends and with your master. Don't let fear rule you

And say thanks to Master Orisini for me. Not many would have heard my plea all those years ago

Those words seem to sway the fencer, who then addresses his mentor

Maestro, it'd seem you were right. The blade wishes to convey its... HER gratitude for saving me. And as always, so do I

[Leviathan]

"Its, ah... gratitude? Oh. Yes, yes of course." The duelling master recovers his normal grace and elegance. "Call it intuition, but I was certain of the blade's potency. Please convey to it my utmost faith in its function as an armament." He bows politely in the direction of Reve, though it seems doubtful that the sword can "see" him at all.

[SanguinePenguin]

Spoiler

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UGH! I made a long post two days ago that was either eaten or never submitted... Here is my attempt at it again...

Atavian looked to the bartender and said, "I'll have an ale... preferably one that isn't disgusting."

He listens to Jensi and Aldrin's tales in turn. The halfling's eyes spread wide with horror as Aldrin drinks... whatever fishjack is - it has chunks... Even just watching, with every sip Aldrin takes, the halfling narrowly avoids throwing up in his mouth a bit.

He then says, "I'm sorry that you both had it hard. I... my life never had much of struggle until Lamm," the halfling nearly spits the name from his lips, "entered the picture. The man took everything from me. My family, my friends, my freedom, my... opportunities, my... well, my everything. See, my parents were dock managers - well-off. They paid for me to attend the Academae. I was... well, I was a mediocre student, but I was a student there and life was pretty good."

"Then suddenly, one day, I'm on my way to class, and some Hellknights arrest me. Telling me I'm wanted for the murder of one of my closest friends - which I did not do, by the way. My parents publicly disown me, the school kicks me out and I'm in a cell. Fortunately, the witness recants his testimony - admitting Lamm made him do it," he takes a swig of his ale.

"Then, I go back to my parents' home, in hopes of explaining. But, when I arrive, the city guard is already there, because, my parents had been murdered. The deed to their estate was missing. I was disowned, and had no rights to inherit their property. Lamm killed my parents for the deed; I know it's true... but I still don't know why he did all of this, though." The halfling drinks nearly all his glass in a long chug, then continues, "but one of these days, I mean to find out."

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan crouches down, bringing himself closer to eye level with the Orphans. "I was going to ask if you're faring well here, but your enthusiasm is answer enough." He smiles, then responds with mocking seriousness to their shouted comments. "It is an impressive banner, but I fear that you'll need to remake it some time soon, once the Maestro begins to teach you your letters. I'm afraid that none of you are ready yet for a real sword, regardless of your enthusiasm. If you'd been bearing swords like mine earlier, I imagine that most of you would be dead by now. Still, if you work hard and listen to the Maestro, you may well earn the right to wear live steel within the year." At this point the smile disappears, and the slightly mocking tone vanishes with it. "I did have one question I was hoping you could answer for me. A little over a month ago, a young girl named Siriena went missing in the city, and I believe that she was taken by Lamm. She is seven years old, dark brown hair and eyes. About this tall." He holds his hand out at approximately waist level. "She wasn't in the fishery when we brought Lamm down. Do any of you know where she might have gone?"

[Drothmal]

"Its, ah... gratitude? Oh. Yes, yes of course." The duelling master recovers his normal grace and elegance. "Call it intuition, but I was certain of the blade's potency. Please convey to it my utmost faith in its function as an armament." He bows politely in the direction of Reve, though it seems doubtful that the sword can "see" him at all.

I knew he was a gentleman says Reve, satisfaction in her tone

Maestro is a great man agrees the bladeboud magus with pride

In an unspoken (even by telepathic standards) interaction, both Reve and Rennard agree on what must be done

Maestro, I think you should be aware that...
[Rennard tells Vencarlo about the visit to the Grey and the possibility of a necromancer attack tomorrow]
I do not know what might happen, and I think that my new companions

You know, you could try calling them friends the black blade chimes in

... and I will be ready to act if anything does. But Maestro, if you could use your contacts with the representatives to prevent people from congregating in large numbers, it could minimize the collateral damage the fencer continues, ignoring the rapier's request

My bonded, you have the most delightfully roundabout way of saying "it is the right thing to do" continues the blade in a teasing tone. Still, happy with her master's behavior, the rapier quiets down, waiting in silence with Rennard for Vencarlo's reply and Dastan's return

[Leviathan]

Dastan

The orphans all look very serious for a moment, their faces screwed up in childish concentration as they try to remember.

Finally, one of them mumbles, her squeaky voice shy. "Whot 'bout Siry? Cooda been her."

"Yeah, cooda been!"

The spokesperson for the orphans nods emphatically. "Siry left right b'fore you comed in and star'ed t' kill everybody whot was there. Mean ol' 'ookshanks sent her away. 'E's the one who'd tell us where t' go when we 'ad to go out. Dunno where she was goin', though. None of them kids came back, whot with all them fires and people mad as bloody hell after. Sorry, mister," he adds bluntly.

Rennard

Vencarlo scowls. "We have already ceased our act of peaceful protest, and, while it is true that the Queen has assured us of her good intent, I cannot submit to this wholly. This necromancy business could be some plot aimed precisely to keep people in fear. When people are fearful, they allow great evils to go unnoticed in the name of safety. If the Queen does not have our best interests at heart, I will not ensure that no one will air grievances against her in large groups."

And besides," he continues; "most necromancers do not crave attention. They hide in graveyards in order that they might gather their materials without drawing unwanted eyes. I do not think this necromancer you have uprooted will wantonly attack the good people of the city, Rennard."

[Drothmal]

You might be right, Maestro. As always, thank you for your help and guidance replies Rennard, making a slight bow and retiring to what used to be his room in the Academy



I understand Maestro's point, but I am not sure I would draw the same conclusions than him thinks the fencer

Do you feel he's correct?

I think...

How do you feel

I feel... that we've done what we could, and if Maestro is wrong and something attacks tomorrow, we must stop it concludes the duelist

And I will be there to help you, Bonded, together with your friends replies the blade

Rennard will wait for Dastan to be done with his conversation in his room, where he will copy some of the spells that he has found on the necromancer's spellbook. When the paladin is done, Rennard will ask him if he wants to stop by the Market to improve their equipment in the event that something does happen tomorrow.

Outfitted with steel and magic, Rennard will spend the night in the academy, wanting to be alone to process all that has happened over the last days

[DaedalusMkV]

"Thank you. I will admit, I had hoped you would be able to tell me where she was, but I appreciate the information nonetheless. Good luck, children. I am sure I'll be back to see you again soon." Dastan waves goodbye to the orphans, then returns to Rennard and Orsini. "I already sent what money I had to Jensi to purchase materials for that headband he made for me. Nonetheless, if you desire company I would be pleased to accompany you. If you're staying here, I will return to visit my uncle. I'm certain he will be anxious to hear of the events of the last few days."

If there's nothing else, Dastan will make the journey back to his uncle's home.

[RocketMan]

Jensi

"That's horrible!" Jensi says sympathetically. "At least my family is alive... I just don't know where they are. Oh Aldrin, I'm sorry, I don't think your family is dead, I'm sure they'll escape or be set free. Not executed. So they're not really dead, Jensi says, attempting a smile.

As Aldrin finishes his story vehemently, Jensi looks alarmed. "Aldrin, he doesn't have to make you into a killer. That's a bad thing to be. If you let him change you like that, I think he wins, in a way. There are better things you could be, if you want..."

[Blisstake]

"Let me ask you something, Jensi," Aldrin starts, giving a curious glance to the oracle. "What is the value of a jail in the first place? It's to keep dangerous and reckless people away from society. Now let's say someone close to you... very close to you is dangerous. What do you do?"