Kaelyn has revealed more interesting news as well as coming clean with his connection to Buchard. Despite the perceived mocking to the thief, the captain does seem to take a keen interest in the possibility of an invasion fleet arriving on the shores of Maletar as well as sharing that the Queen has been targeted for assassination in the past. “There was only one farm the mercenaries spoke about an attack upon,” the captain also provides.“He doesn’t.” Kealyn says simply with a slight smirk, “He is only second in command. Though he resides within the theives’ guild.” He admits freely knowing full well he may be dragged off to a cell for reveiling such information. “I was learning the trade when I over heard Buchard speaking of this plot. He didn’t know I was there until he saw me,andwhen he did he swore to kill me and everyone I know.So I fled the guild’s reach, in the hopes that they would leave my loved one’s alone and I could warn those who could do something about it.”
“I see. Have any other farms been attacked?” the thief mage askes politely.
“Mock me if you will, but with out this knowledge I doubt you or any of the Militia would know of this attempt until you were overwhelmed or have a sword in your gullet.
While the group goes and retrieves their horses from the watchful lancers, Mayla makes it clear that although she enjoyed riding on Thunder, she doesn’t want to be apart from Butternut. “Can I ride with you?” she asks the Halfling as she moves to slide off Stephanie’s impressive horse.She looks up at Mayla. "I'm switching to my own horse. Since it seems we are all returning to Dormare, it's up to you who you want to ride with." If Mayla want to switch mounts, Butternut will help her down before strolling over to Springheel and mounting him.
Erizhi has struck up a conversation with a fellow priest, one Dareos Cooke of Maletar. Although their religions and beliefs seem drastically different they have hit a harmonious cord. As Erizhi thinks about what she might know of this Ebon Lady, Dareos continues their conversation as they mount up. “Ah, so this Ishtar is much like our own Inanna then,” he says thoughtfully. “It sounds like your birth was marked by very potent signs. I can see now where you get your persona from. Mine are much humbler beginnings, for I did not even plan to become a priest. Even from a young age though, the earth always seemed to speak to me, if that makes any sense. It was much later I understood the connections of it all.”Erizhi thinks about what she may know of the Earth Goddess he mentions (I.e. anything from Ancient History or Religion that she might have already learned?). "Well met," the priestess will respond. "I am Erizhetiana of the House Iltani from Lotan." She considers his question for a moment. "Ishtar is also the Goddess of Love, as well as the Goddess of War. And as you say, 'some choose, and some are chosen'. I was born with blue eyes, which is uncommon for those of our kingdom. The night of my birth, the constellation of the Lion was dominant in the night sky. Blue is the color of Ishtar and the lion is her patron animal. My father says that as I cried my first, a streak shot through that constellation and he considered all this a sign that I was destined, in his words - 'chosen', to become a part of the Ishtar temple."
GM Notes: check your PM Erizhi
The group begins to move out. The party can intermingle with the column however they wish. At the moment the lancers are riding point while the burly soldier has been given charge of the Immaterian who is having to run to keep up. The elven scouts are not with the main group but can not be seen off the road either, so it is unclear whether they are even present. The captain is up near the front where the man being groomed for promotion also rides. The youngest of the soldiers is about mid-column alone while the priest continues to ride with Erizhi should she desire to talk further.
The farm is barely out of sight when riders approach the group from the direction of the village. Sir Rovach easily recognizes the village’s constable, Gorvan. He is armored in his banded mail and upon the grey dapple the paladin had seen outside his office. With him are five others that can only be assumed to be of the militia, dressed in leather armor. Two are in a wagon being drawn by a pair of draft horses. All of them look grim.
“Ah, perfect timing as always,” Captain Maletar says upon seeing the men. “The area is yours, Constable. These adventurers had taken care of the hard work. As always, you have amazing foresight in these matters.” Hardly pausing for breath, the captain continues, “They captured one prisoner and we are escorting him, and these adventurers, back to the village straight away. You should have no complications regarding your detail.”
Gorvan simply sits through the words, his eyes finding Sir Rovach and sending the paladin a courteous nod. Once it’s clear the captain is done, Gorvan addresses his men, “Alright then, you heard our captain. Let’s get this grim business behind us and give those poor souls a proper burial.”
Captain Maletar surrenders only the barest necessity of road for the wagon to pass by on. Anyone glancing into the bed of the wagon can see there is a tarp over most of it but there appears to be tools and lumber inside. A large cooking pot sits between the men on the wagon’s front bench.
Once the road is again his, Captain Maletar’s white charger starts into a canter. The fine specimen has a near-black star and strip pattern starting from between its eyes and ending quite near its muzzle. The rest of his men join in the canter easily without a word needed to be spoken.