Phineas walks wide-eyed and silent (for once), taking in all around the group. Secret underground smithies are clearly beyond his ken.

Haethar leads the group down a shallow graded ramp at the end of the catwalk on the far side of the Blackworks.  Another two hundred yards of walking through mostly blackness on smooth, flat stone brings the party to a set of double doors large enough to admit eight horses abreast.

The older man calls over a boy a little older than Phineas.  "See that their horses get topside through the roundabout.  I want them fed and groomed in Therion's stables, ya hear?"  When the boy calls several others over and they all have reins in hand, Haethar shoos them if with a crotchety "now git!"

At that point, Haethar opens a smaller door to the side of the large ones.  Inside is a very steep set of nine spiral staircases set in three rows.  He motions for everyone to pick whichever one as he starts up the closest.

At the top there is a room with metal walls, floor, and ceiling.  Each wall has a series of doors.  Without pause, Haethar chooses one and takes the group out into what looks like a more traditional castle hallway.

"Therion doesn't care much for pomp and circumstance, but seein' how he's busy with them monsters at our gates, you all should take the time to get refreshed, grab a bite to eat, and maybe take a nap.  I'll tell Therion you all are here with news of-" he looks around a moment, narrows his eyes, then looks back at the group.  "things beyond the duchies.  He'll want to meet with you as soon as he can.  If you have any questions, Ourn here should be able to answer.  Otherwise, keep them until later.  I have work to do."

One moment Klale says. He takes his goods off his horse and arranges them so he can carry them.

At the door, he says Thank you and enters the room.

Ourn nods to Haethar, and beckons the party to follow him. He leads them further down the halls of Therion. The stone work and timber beams comprising the castle are of fine craftsmanship, but not overly extravagant. The occasional painting and tapestry adorn the walls, as groups of servants and men-at-arms walk the halls with hurried purpose.

Several minutes later, the group emerges into a dining hall. Long rectangular tables with hand crafted silverware and dishes lay waiting on the tabletops. A well dressed servant greets the group as they enter, and Ourn request a meal for everyone. The walls of the dining hall are similar to the rest of the castle that's been viewed so far, and several large windows give way to a view of a large courtyard below. Rows of soldiers stand rank and file while sergeants and officers bark orders. The occasional boom of cannon fire lightly shakes the windows. The floor is a tiled pattern with a stone mosaic of the Therion coat of arms in the center, made from river rocks of varying shades of grey and white.

Once everyone is seated, half a dozen more servants come out of a side door carrying plates of food and serving dishes with mugs on them. Small pheasants and hens, roasted on a spit. Boiled potatoes, gravies, and cooked greens are all laid before the group. A platter with small meat pies as well, and another with pastries also adorns the table now. The servants wordlessly arrange the meal, and ensure everyone has been adequately served.

Ourn looks to the chief of the hall, and says "Thank you Ranholf. This is more than enough, and you've all done splendidly.".

With that, Ranholf takes his leave, and the group is left with a single servant standing at the entry to the kitchens, taking note of when plates empty and mugs run dry.

"I suppose we all have much to discuss, given the current climate.".

"Thank you for such generous hospitality." Once everyone has been served, he samples the various foods on his plate. "It's all very delicious, but I do have to admit. I feel a bit silly sitting here having such an extravagant meal amidst such a large siege."

With somewhat of a look of concern upon his face, he sets his food down. "Ourn, what do you plan to report to Duke Therion? There is much we have seen, and much that has happened to us over the past several months. We've all had ample time to come to terms with what we have learned."

He lowers his voice so that the servants are less likely to hear. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is. How much do you think is wise to divulge beyond what he has already seen at his doorstep?"

"A bit of comfort before the storm is all. Nothing more. Honestly though, I wasn't expecting to be waited on like this either. This dining hall is where those of is who aren't nobility, servants, or soldiers eat. More often than not, there is a spread laid out on the center table for self serving. I suppose the kitchen staff are just trying to all stay busy to steel their own nerves as the battle goes on outside. I'm sure Haethar would scold me if he were to walk in on us right now though. Dining in view of a battle does seem a bit odd, doesn't it?."

Ourn pauses for a moment to reflect on his decision."As far as the report to Therion goes"

Ourn lowers his voice. "I plan to tell Therion everything. Not a shred of detail left out. This dutchy is one of the last in the land to hold true to the principles of goodness and richeousness, and the more he knows about the threats of this land the better. I cannot force the rest of you to tell all you know when the time comes, but I highly encourage and implore you to. Amongst the cities and peoples, Therion is perhaps the only one at this time that stands a chance to rally the rest. Though we are a capable lot here a this table, taking on the entirety of our foes unaided would be pure suicide."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:10, Mon 25 Apr 2016.

Klale proceeds to test the sufficiency of the quantity. He does ask for water or tea, limiting himself to a yard of ale or beer.

"I agree with that Ourn, if we are to seek the aid of the Duke then we must be up front and honest with him if we are to hope for any help."  Ano picks at the food, feeling a bit uncomfortable in such a fine place.

"I can thoroughly assure you all, that if there is anyone on Eru's green earth that can and should be trusted with the information we carry, it is duke Therion.

Ourn wolfs down the remaining food on his plate, finishes his drink and sits back in his chair, looking around at the group and the hall.

"Are there any doubts among you?"

"I have no doubts about him now, but I've seen a lot o' power here tucked away.  What check is there on such?  What does he plan to do wi' all o' this?"  Saris has eaten as heartily as any of the men, moreso than any but Klale in fact.

Toben nods. "Saris brings up a good point. We've seen how easily these Dark Stars can control a persons mind. What can be done if that sort of thing falls upon the Duke? Imagine if the valaraukar had this sort of power at their disposal. I don't exactly have a magic hat that blocks mind control."

He leans back and thinks deeply for a moment, distracted by his own comment. "Speaking of the advances in technology here. This city certainly seems like a very progressive one. What level of acceptance would you expect for folks such as ourselves? We aren't exactly cut from the same cloth these days, if you get my meaning."

Phineas somehow seems to eat more than his own weight of the fine foodstuffs.

Once he can no longer fit any more into his bulging belly, even after loosening the ties on his trousers, he emits a contemplative belch and joins the conversation. "Ourn, I do not know this duke and have little reason to trust the high-born. However, you have proven yourself a capable and true friend, and I, for one, will heed your counsel and share freely with the duke all that has transpired. Though," he adds with a smirk, "in my case at least, he may be hard-put to believe all of the details."

"I've known the duke most of my life, and have been in his service for a decade now. He's slow to anger, and even slower to pass judgement. He cares for his people in a way that no other duke can boast, yet you'll never hear such a boast leave his mouth. Recently, two of the other dutchies attacked Therion. Unwarranted and unprovoked, they vied for power and land. What they recieved, was defeat. Do you know why? It wasn't the soldiers, or the cannons, the archers or officers leading them. It was because Therion is good. Plain and simple. Good triumphs. It resists the corruptions of this world. It was there when the forces of men and more defeated Shauron. It was there again when the halflers destroyed the necklace.... errr, ring, of power. It will be here again, with Therion, as the forces of darkness march upon our world, and it is through him, his leadership, his innovation... his desire to do what is good, that we'll triumph again."

Ourn places his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"I know that what I ask is of high risk and high reward, but what other option do we truly have that we can place our trust in? No man is completely beyond being at least tempted by corruption. Not even those of us at this table. Toben, would the enemy not wield a dark and terrible power through you, if you were to be turned? Or Klale. Imagine a dark Klale cleaving through 3 and 4 men in a single swipe of his sword on the field of battle. Even Phineas, as innocent as he can be, could just as soon bury a dagger in a man's back and be gone before a call to alarm could even be thunk of. Anno.. Anno doesn't even need a blade, and can twist and snap his opponents to splinters. And yet.."

Ourn sighs.

"And yet here we are, all together, relying on one another's strengths to pull through impossible odds and challenges, and all for what? For the concept of what is good. For the people who cannot save themselves. For the innocents who will cry out in fear of the black tide of death outside these walls. Before we jump to wondering about whether or not duke Therion is an incorruptible champion of light, should we not look to ourselves first? My allegiances got far beyond just that of this duchy. They are for the very people themselves... and to you. If I thought for even a moment that Therion will turn on us like some rabid hound, the suggestion would never have escaped my lips. You are among good people my friends, with good intentions. Trust them to shoulder the burden along side us."

Toben nods thoughtfully, "You're right, everyone here is subject to corruption or control similar to what we saw back at Vanter's farm. I would hope, should that happen to me, that all of you would have the strength to do what is necessary. Whether that be restraint, subdual, or worse. I would never willing allow myself to pose a threat to what we are doing here."

He rises from his chair to emphasize his sincerity. "Ourn, you are an honorable man, and I come to trust you. If you place your trust and allegiance to this Duke, then so shall I."

I'm disposed to favor the person who provides my food...though hens and pigs do the same. I figure we're more apt to be like hens as far as Duke Therion is concerned. By the way, figure that what we say is being listened to.

Ourn smiles and nods "The River is always listening Master Tsolo. And Toben, of course we'd subdue you. You're too valuable a friend to just knife you".

Ourn's smile turns into a grin.

"You truly do honor me though with your trust. I do not take it lightly"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:27, Tue 26 Apr 2016.

A young man, only a few years older than Phineas, fumbles his way into the room.  He is carrying far too many scrolls and keeps dropping them.  "I'm sorry.  Oh, let me get that."  He comes over to the table and looks as if he is going to dump the armload onto the food.  At the last moment he realizes his mistake and reverses course.  Unfortunately his momentum is still headed toward the table.  To save the scrolls, he rotates his body so that his back slams into the edge of the table.  Scrolls fly everywhere, but thankfully not into the food.

"Oh!  My back!"  The poor kid grabs his back and slumps to the ground beside the table in between Toben and Xar.  He reaches out for Xar, who kindly helps him regain his feet.  "There, then.  That's bettah.  Thank you so much."  Then he notices who has his hand and he goes white.  "Yore a...a...d...dwarf!  You don't exist!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

A moment later, a man in full battle gear walks in.  He has a rugged look about him, but handsome.  In his eyes are wisdom and intelligence to spare.  His hands are calloused from hard work.  It's possible he is one of the duke's personal guards.

Then he speaks.  "Coll, it's alright.  Ourn has brought them here.  They are our guests."  The man stoops to help Coll pick up the scrolls, then hands them to a servant who takes them to safety.

He turns to Ourn.  "Welcome back.  Haethar spoke highly of your efforts.  Now we get to hear them first hand."  At last he smiles and takes in the rest seated around the table.  "Welcome, my friends.  I am Dagnir Therion.  No, no, stay seated.  There is a war going on outside, though it has waned for the moment.  We can speak while I catch a late lunch."  Given the late hour coupled with his grin, 'lunch' was definitely a touch of humor.  He grabs a crust of bread, some meat and cheese, and a pitcher of water.  "Ourn, tell me you've brought me something that's more effective against these vermin than my canons.  They just keep coming.  But first, introduce your friends."  The duke digs in to the food with relish, while Ourn speaks.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

Klale is duck walking, picking up scrolls. He hands the ones he's gathered to this Coll. If need be, manipulating Coll's hands. Then he sits down.

Before Dagnir makes his entrance, Toben leans over and grabs a handful of scrolls. He places them on an empty spot on the table, taking care to not get any food or drink on them, as Dagnir walks in.

Seeing the new guest enter the hall, Toben nods with a smile, and retakes his seat.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:51, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

Ignoring the casual order to stay seated, Ourn stands and goes round the table, introducing his companions.

"My liege, may I introduce Tobin Ironsprings, a magus and scholar of incredible caliber. Klale Tsolo, a mountain of a warrior and expert blacksmith. Phineas Highwood, a professional sneak and scout - he'd make an excellent River member - Anno, the monk, who's equally deadly with his fists as he is serine. Xar, a Dwarven master of shadows and stealth. Saris Morian, a Dwarven healer and former vessel to one of the Fallen stars. And last but certainly not least, Mairen, a brilliantly talented and skilled apothecary from the town of Dunsten.".

Ourn's gaze sweeps around the table as he proudly introduces his friends, not bothering to wonder how some of the more impossible sounding parts of his introduction will be taken by Therion.

"We bring no special weapon in particular, but you'll find that the bulk of whom you see sitting at your table are more than capable at dispatching foes in creative ways, and en masse at that."

Phineas makes an only-partially successful attempt to look innocent and as if he has no idea of where the "sneak" designation might possibly have come from.

"Expert blacksmith, eh?"  Therion looks at Klale.  "Hmm.  You have any interest in coming to work for me here?"

Klale looks Therion over. I'd be honored to spar with you...or with those you spar with...I've much to learn.

And I'll be happy to work here for some time—short or long—depending...we may find it necessary to be on our way. Incidentally, if any persons here see a small dragon or drake, it may be one who is sort of a companion. We thought him killed helping us, but maybe not. If he's not been turned to evil, he is a valuable asset, and almost a friend. His name is Kornari.

As for being and "expert blacksmith," I think I'm capable, but maybe being called an expert depends on whom I'm being compared to. You may, perhaps, be interested in seeing the latest item I've done...took me quite a while. Klale draws his greatsweord and lays it across the table, hilt toward Therion. Thin lines of light and dark shimmers along the blade like crests and troughs of whitecaps running or swirling along a strand. I call it Hard Time.

The duke looks intently at the blade and whistles in appreciation.  "Ourn was not exaggerating.  That is a beautiful blade.  May I?"  He makes to reach for the handle, but waits, hand hovering before touching it.