"Two days, mm? And he's the only Lord you know of in these parts who is hiring?"

Deln sends him a reproving glance.

"None that will pay as well as Lord Veldorn," he says firmly.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:23, Wed 27 Mar 2019.

"And that is...?"

Deln does not seem to be sure exactly what that is, so he decides to sidestep the matter once more.

"Just wait for Lord Veldorn. He'll sort you out when he returns."

He then glances up the staircase beside which he stands, and Falnis once more senses a vague concern.

"Now, if you'll excuse me just a moment," he says, "I just need to check on something..."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:46, Wed 27 Mar 2019.

"By all means," Falnis assures him.

Having a fairly good idea of just what Deln may be checking on, Falnis seems to have no plans of waiting for the human to return. Once Deln is out of sight, Falnis loses no time in setting his wine glass down on an empty table and exiting the inn.

"I do hope you did something useful with that mercenary's body, like drop it out of the window," he remarks, as he rejoins Caled outside. "Because otherwise, the greasy specimen who trapped you there in the first place is about to raise the alarm. Since I doubt we can catch Lord Veldorn on foot, I suggest we make for the gates with all possible speed. He rides west, by the way."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:54, Wed 27 Mar 2019.

Caled seems to feel that dragging the mercenary's body and dumping it behind the bed would perhaps not constitute Falnis' definition of useful, and so he remains obstinately silent on this topic. He does respond to the latter part of Falnis' statement as he swings up onto his horse.

"I do hope you gleaned something more useful than simply 'he rides west'," he shoots back as he begins to canter off up the alleyway.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:33, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

It is Falnis' turn to be obstinately silent.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 33 using 1d20+16.  Search Check (to find tracks).
Dalmar Argant rolled 16 using 1d20.  Survival Check (to follow tracks).
This message was last edited by the player at 11:45, Wed 27 Mar 2019.

The pair swiftly make their way past the light and laughter of 'The Golden Geld' and back down the darkened streets beyond. If the guards are at all surprised to see them return in one piece they show no sign of this, hastily opening the gate to let them pass. Once outside, they proceed to follow the muddy, dirt track which leads to the west. This is covered in numerous foot and hoof prints. But Falnis is able to make out a set of heavier prints which suggest those of warhorses, and they are fresher than many of the others. Lacking the skills of Aerendir or Calvorn when it comes to tracking, he cannot determine just how long ago they have been made, nor the number of riders. He is fairly certain there are at least six or more.

Caled remains mounted, watching idly as Falnis examines the tracks.

"Well?" he says as Falnis rises from his examinations.

Falnis rejoins him and remounts his own horse.

"Intuition-- or in this case, a large number of recent hoof-prints left by war-horses-- tells me that the Lord Veldorn did indeed pass this way. It also tells me that if there is a muddy track to be followed, we are fairly safe in just following it unless we suddenly see six or seven horses' worth of hoof-prints veering off it onto the grass... how good a horseman would you say you were? Your horse can likely see in the moonlight far better than you can. If I lead the way, can you ride at full speed in the dark and not fall off if your horse follows mine?"

Falnis sounds a bit dubious as he asks this, clearly having spent more time with human mercenaries than human knights.

Caled narrows his eyes.

"Thanian knights do not fall off their horses," he says haughtily, "Lead the way."

With one more dubious look, Falnis proceeds to do so.

The pair set off into the night. Caled is as good as his boast, and has no difficulty keeping his balance as his stallion gallops after Falnis. They do not continue at this pace for long, and after the town is mile or so behind them they reduce their pace to somewhere between a canter and a brisk trot. Galnor and his men do not appear to have deviated from the muddy track, and the pair continue to follow it for several hours as it winds its way through pasturelands, copses and crevices. It is almost midnight when they reach an intersecting path, running perpendicular to the one along which they are riding. This path is much wider, and completely trampled into a slippery, sloshy mud. It looks as though no fewer than a hundred riders have galloped through here. And recently.

"What is it?" asks Caled as they come to a halt, squinting into the gloom.

"Which option do you think is worse?" Falnis remarks, peering at the slush in front of them. "That His Lordship sent a hundred soldiers riding through these parts recently, or that somebody else did?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:45, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

"Will you stop referring to him as that?" Caled says irritably, "He is not a recognised lord of Thane. Now, what is this about a hundred riders?"

"Veldorn, then, if he no longer merits a title. But yes, you see the sludge in front of us? That was not caused by a simple hunt. Does anything you care about lie in that direction?"

Caled dismounts trudging through the mud to get a closer look at the faded, wooden signpost which stands nearby.

To the north, the direction from which the hoof prints come, the sign reads 'Calnar'. To the south, and the direction from which the hoof prints are going, it reads a rather ominous word. 'Lastorn'.

"... I'm sure that's just a coincidence."

Caled does not appear to be in the mood for coincidences or making light of them.

"We must hasten to His Highness at once!" he says as he jogs through the mud back to his horse.

"Are you imagining that your aid will make the slightest difference between victory and defeat in a battle between His Highness and one hundred mercenaries?" Falnis asks, sounding genuinely curious.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

If Caled has considered this piece of logic he does not admit it.

"You have a better suggestion?" he asks, his tone rhetorical as he wheels his horse in the direction of Lastorn.

Falnis looks like he can think of two very much better suggestions, both of which have signposts pointing in a direction that isn't Lastorn and one hundred possibly hostile soldiers. However, he seems to realise that neither of these two suggestions are likely to get him either a dead Lord Veldorn or a living human with a seal on him with which to report back to Tyronius.

"...You could give me the seal now, and save me the trouble of looting it from your corpse after your inevitable demise?" he tries, following Caled.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:34, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

Caled does not grace this comment with a response, urging his mount to a gallop as he sets off toward Lastorn and into the night.

OOC: End of Chapter IV...