Lyria does a commendable job of concealing her delight in Tyronius' offer. She hesitates a moment, appearing to consider the offer, before nodding slowly at length.

"Very well, Your Highness. I accept your offer."

OOC: Lady Lyria Veldorn rolled 24 using 1d20+6. Bluff.

"A pity. l will miss the hunting lodge," Falnis says, with regret. "Is there an emblem or any other symbol they will carry to prove that they go carrying your authority, by the way? Unless you are one of those four men, I doubt their own word will carry much weight."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:50, Wed 20 Mar 2019.

"They shall carry my seal," Tyronius replies coolly, "And you shall not be accompanying them, if you are thinking of stealing it."

"You wound me, Your Highness. We are not all of us thieves in this room."

Judging by his enigmatic smile, though, and the quick, searching look Lord Orthran gives to all the possible places on Tyronius' body armor that a royal seal might be hiding, he is indeed considering this.

Tyronius does not fail to note the varim's searching glance, and he smiles grimly.

"Indeed," the prince agrees, "But just to ensure my men make it safely to Calarn and back, I shall be holding onto your possessions until their return. In fact," he rubs his chin thoughtfully, "Given your apparent zeal in regards to assisting the lady, I think it best you do accompany my men. If you behave yourself and my men are satisfied that you are indeed the innocent varim hunter that you claim to be, you have my word they shall be returned to you upon the completion of the assignment. What say you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:48, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

"Your men are highly unlikely to be satisfied with me whatever I do, seeing as I am a varim," Falnis objects. "I will agree to this only if 'successful completion' counts as at least one of your men returning alive with your seal to report the Lady Veldorn's dispute has been resolved, and that I assisted on the mission and did not injure, kill, or deceive in a manner resulting in the harm of either the Lady Veldorn or your men. I will also need your word that no copies or forgeries will be made of those letters, and that Calvorn will not report them to Vard. Well?"

"I will make no promises of what Calvorn will or will not do," Tyronius replies, "However I shall agree to your terms in regard to what constitutes the successful completion of the mission. The return of my seal, with one or more of my men who can confirm your actions and that the matter has been resolved."

"I rather thought I might be being optimistic there," Falnis agrees, resigned. "Still, it is encouraging for your keeping your word if you recognise and are happy to admit you can do nothing to control Vard's men, and I suppose I have worked for worse rewards than the return of possessions already lawfully my own. Very well, we have an agreement. Care to introduce me to the fine gentlemen who will be assisting me on this mission?"

Tyronius nods curtly. He ignores the latter part of Falnis' response, however the varim's question is partly answered in the instructions he proceeds to give a nearby guard.

"Inform me as soon as Caled returns," he says briskly to the warrior who nods obediently.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:47, Thu 21 Mar 2019.

"My job would, of course, be easier with my poisons," Falnis observes, while they wait for Caled.

Making Falnis' job easier does not appear to be a priority for either Aerendir, Tyronius or Calvorn. Tyronius exits the tent a few moments later to begin issuing orders to the men outside. Aerendir continues to patch up Marabir's wounds, and Calvorn waits impatiently for Falnis to exit the tent, a bunch of letters visible in the hand he holds behind his back.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:02, Thu 21 Mar 2019.

"You may go," the ranger informs Falnis after it becomes clear that the varim does not seem inclined to do so of his own accord.

Falnis rolls his eyes, but obligingly departs.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 36 using 1d20+22.  Listen Check to Hear What's Happening Inside the Tent.

"Tyronius will be fortunate if those men don't all end up dead," Calvorn remarks to Aerendir in a low tone after Falnis has departed, "Still, at least it will get rid of that varim for the time being."

He is silent after this, and Falnis is able to make out the sound of scrunching parchment.

Lyria, who has exited with Falnis, does not seem to be aware of his efforts to eavesdrop on the goings on within the tent.

"You were marvellous Falnis!" she says in a soft yet excited voice, "I can't believe we you convinced him to send four emissaries of the crown with us. Surely my uncle won't dare to contend with them."

"Racism in Thane has always accomplished wonders for us," Falnis agrees, moving away from the tent and regretfully abandoning his attempts at listening in. "Just between us, by the way, would you prefer it if your uncle were dead or merely deposed at the end of this mission?"

"I don't want him dead," Lyria replies slowly and with questionable honesty, "But I would like him to stop interfering with the lives of my brother and I for good."

"Kill him if I get the chance. Understood," Falnis says, nodding.

Lyria sends him a reproving glance, but not that reproving.

An hour or so passes. Tyronius' guards remain on alert, and the prince spends the majority of the time inside the tent, scratching out a letter which he passes to one of his riders to dispatch. Calvorn also remains inside the tent, continuing to read and re-read each one of the letters appropriated by Aerendir. Marabir rests in the tent, slipping in and out of a feverish sleep, while Aerendir continues to tend him. Lyria paces restlessly about the camp, glancing up hopefully every few minutes for a sign of Caled's return. Falnis appears much more relaxed, and rejoins Nod to resume his critiquing of the minstrel's experimentations to pass the time.

At length the sound of hoof beats can be heard, and a moment later Caled canters into view, a wagon trundling behind him, pulled by a less than impressed looking Cyralas.

"I'm not seeing the straw," Aerendir says critically, emerging from the tent to examine it."But I guess that is what feed and bedding is for. Get moving, men."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:43, Thu 21 Mar 2019.

Tyronius' men swiftly do so, and within minutes Marabir lies nestled in the wagon amongst a number of cloaks, bedrolls and packs of feed. The tent is dismantled with as much efficiency as it was constructed, while Tyronius strides over to Caled.

"Caled, take Larend, Ralen and Vandal. The four of you are to accompany Lady Veldorn to resolve this dispute with her uncle. Take my seal with you and deal with the matter as you see fit. Catch up with us when you are done. Oh, and Lord Falnis will be accompanying you. See to it that he behaves himself."

Caled glances at Falnis with mild perplexion, but nods obediently, accepting the seal and placing it carefully in a pouch at his side. He then strides over to where the other warriors are finishing packing away the last of the tent.

"Larend, Ralen and Vandal, prepare yourselves and mount up!" he calls, before heading over to Falnis, "Apparently you're coming with me."

"Wonderful. And where should myself and any surviving men rejoin you once the mission is completed, Your Highness? Will you be keeping to the high roads, headed back towards Carendisal? Or will you be detouring in Lastorn?

"He shall be taking the high roads back to Carendisal," Caled answers for the prince who is already busy getting his men mounted and ready to move out, "We will return to Lastorn as soon as our mission is complete, and if the His Highness is not there we shall continue toward Carendisal until we catch up with them."