"She remained at my fortress," replies Ravalor, with just a touch of evasiveness. "Both she and your men had a long ride to reach me, and are resting there while my men and I escort you back."

OOC: Lord Calryan Ravalor rolled 21. Bluff.

"Indeed," Tyronius nods, not seeming to feel that there is anything odd about this. "I presume my men also informed you of the treacherous actions of her uncle, and what we suspect is a full scale Caladormist uprising behind him?"

OOC: Tyronius Carendil rolled 14. Sense Motive.

"They did," Ravalor responds, a certain guardedness coming over his features. "They also informed me that your brother, Prince Marabir, was with you?"

"That is correct," Tyronius asserts. "He is currently engaged in the forest over there, and I think he has been so for quite long enough. I shall go and fetch him."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Ravalor responds in an nonchalant but firm tone. "My own men can locate him, I'm sure."

He waves a hand for several of his men to dismount as he says this.

"I know roughly the direction he went," Tyronius insists, beginning to lead the men in the direction of Marabir's departure. "He shouldn't be too far away."

"I'm afraid I really must insist, Tyronius," Ravalor says, his tone taking on a distinct steeliness as with a gesture a dozen of his riders raise crossbows, directing them at the prince and his men.

Tyronius frowns in bewilderment, which morphs swiftly into indignation.

"Lord Ravalor, what is the meaning of this?" he demands.

Calvorn gives a resigned sigh as he places a hand to his forehead.

"You are the lord backing the Caladormists," he surmises grimly.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Wed 15 Mar 2023.

Tyronius still appears to be having trouble believing what he is witnessing.

"Lord Ravalor, he cannot be serious? You've fought alongside my father and I in dozens of campaigns. You saved my life in the battle of Drulnor's Pass."

Ravalor's own smile turns grim as he surveys Tyronius.

"You are a valiant warrior, Tyronius, and there is nothing personal in my actions. In many respects we both fight for the same thing. The glory and strength of Thane. I simply believe that a true heir of the Caladorms should be our king, and I am afraid the time has come for the reign of the Carendil usurpers to end. As such, I am afraid I must insist you accept my hospitality for the foreseeable future. Stand down, and you have my word that neither you nor your men shall be harmed, both those here and those in my fortress."

"I am ready to die for my prince and king, if need be," Caled says hotly, his own blade drawn as he surveys Ravalor's men, awaiting Tyronius' decision.

"I would expect nothing less from an Aravor," Ravalor nods, his expression remaining even as he watches the prince. "Well, Tyronius?"

Tyronius still appears to be trying to process what has just transpired, but at length he recovers himself.

"Very well. On the added condition that neither Marabir nor the boy here shall be harmed."

"You have my word," Ravalor agrees with a solemn nod.

Calvorn, meanwhile, surreptitiously signs at where he hopes Dalmar can still see him in the tree.

Warn Prince Marabir and get him safely out of here. You still have 24 hours left of service. See that he is far away by then.

I am not sure you're paying me enough for this, Calvorn, Dalmar signs back. But then, I'm sure Vard does not pay you enough either.

Despite his words, however, either the varim takes mercenary duties seriously once hired or has some other reason for choosing to keep his word right now, because he does move, travelling via the treetops in the direction of Marabir, and is soon lost from Calvorn's sight.

Erald, meanwhile, promptly (and loudly) bursts into tears.

Ravalor looks as uncomfortable as any of the warriors present, both Caladormist and Carendil, and waves a hand in the direction of the group of his men unfortunate enough to be nearest the boy.

"Someone, er, calm him down, will you?"

Marabir, meanwhile, continues to converse with Aldaran and Aerendir, who has crossed the brook to join them, figuring there is no longer much point in pretending he isn't listening.

"What about the song you quoted at the end of your letter?" Marabir queries.

"Oh, that?" Aldaran shrugs. "I heard your mother singing it to you sometimes on the occasions I was assigned to protect you when you were a child. I figured it might lend some sort of credence to my letter and make it seem less like something written by a random assassin or rebel lord. There was no-"

He breaks off as Dalmar steps into view from behind a nearby tree.

"I do hate to interrupt anyone in the middle of a dramatic reveal," Dalmar says, not sounding particularly sincere, "but unfortunately for you, Prince Marabir, you have a situation. Lord Ravalor-- it transpires-- is a Caledormist. You understand, I trust, that this makes it unfortunate that he has turned up with a small army, and that this means you will be fleeing in some direction other than towards his crossbowmen if you would like to enjoy a long and prosperous reign as ruler of Thane one day? I suggest that way," Dalmar points. "since Calvorn tells me I still have 24 hours of service left owed to him, and I have no desire to fight a group of Thanian malitia. I assume you weren't in on this, Aldaran?"

"I most certainly was not," Aldaran says tersely, beginning to move swiftly off in the other direction. "I shall try to draw them away by leaving some fairly obvious tracks and hopefully buy you enough time to escape the forest. Aerendir, I trust you have the skill to conceal His Highness' tracks at least until you are far enough away from here that no one will be looking for them?" The glance he sends Marabir tracks suggests this might be a difficult feat. "Think on what I have said, Your Highness," he calls as he departs, taking care to kick as many leaves and twigs as possible. "Remember your actions and decisions affect the lives of a great many people, both in Thane and beyond."

With that he disappears through the trees and is gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:25, Thu 16 Mar 2023.

Marabir frowns, glancing at Aerendir and clearly wondering if the whole thing is some kind of elaborate prank, but Aerendir seems to be taking the warning seriously, and so, after a moment of hesitating, he mutters a curse and begins to sprint off in the direction indicated by Dalmar, not particularly feeling like his actions are likely to have a significant affect on many people's lives anytime soon.

It falls to Aerendir to bring up the rear, which Aerendir does with the grim bitterness of an elf who left his turnips with Caln and isn't going to now get to go back to get them.

OOC: End of Chapter IX...
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:39, Thu 16 Mar 2023.