The Squire chuckled at the series of questions. Not in a condescending way, but in a nostalgic way. When she was younger, she wondered about the wide world as well, and it brought back summer days of standing on the balcony and staring out into the sparkling bay.

"Well, let's see...Amn is an oligarchical nation state, known far and wide for it's trade. Indeed, it is often called 'The Merchant's Domain' by residents and foreigners alike. It is one of the most important and influential trading centers throughout Faerûn. I am somewhat embarrassed to say that in the absence of a nobility, wealth is the only symbol of status. The richer, the higher the social standing. Indeed, class is often compared to precious metals, with Ore referring to someone of criminal or beggar class, and Platinum referring to our highest elite. But enough of that. It has very mild weather, year round. We don't even have winter, just a rainy season. Waukeen holds the largest sway over the natives, though I do not share that faith. And fashion is often highly influenced by Calimshan. But there is so much more. How can an entire nation be distilled in a few words? But that is a fair beginning," she said, mind wandering back to the land of her youth.

"Amn lies more than twenty-three-hundred miles to the south, by road anyway. It takes about a month-and-a-half of solid, dedicated travel to reach it directly, assuming the weather or other impediments don't slow you. If you needed to travel with haste, I would suggest traveling by ship. Then it is only about fifteen days. I however did not take a direct route here. It has been many months of travel, traveling generally north. As for admission to the Radiant Heart Auxiliary, you need to be sponsored by an active member of the senior branch of the Order. Two of the Council of three Prelates have to approve the membership and assent for the initiate to be accepted into the Order. Most members of the Order come from noble families, many of which have a history of Order membership. Not me though. My sponsorship was unexpected, resulting from a chance meeting. Any may join if a senior member sees potential in you," Khulekani beamed proudly, truly enamored by her own Order.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:30, Sun 20 Feb 2022.

Magda had retreated to the ground floor, disappearing into the kitchen area after Khulekani had been properly bandaged. There were matters to tend to, and she did so cheerfully, humming a soft tune as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

When Khulekani began detailing her order's admission protocol, Moyrah couldn't help but start chuckling heartily. "So what you're saying is it's not just for anyone. You're quite the gal, aren't you? You're right — your type is rare in these parts. But that has nothing to do with your visage."

The muscular Half-Orc hesitated on the next sip from her mug. "Amn sounds like quite the place. Certainly different from Icewind Dale. Perhaps I'll visit. One day. But that day is far off."

---

Ogden puffed wearily as he entered his tavern. Wights, wizards, and woes. Too much to burden a simple tavern owner with. But he had seen the huntsman and sorceress — or whatever the two of them were — to the constable, which should suffice on his part. When it came to dangerous criminals and monstrous beings, he was as at home as a eunuch in a brothel. Rubbing his shiny head, which he often did when tired or uneasy, he tromped up the staircase to take stock of the damages.

To his surprise, the table had been restored to working condition, and the Goliath was making the finishing touches on the roof.

Ogden stood there, speechless. "How in blasted damnation did you patch it up this quick?" he finally shouted, just as angrily as he had when the Wight had been slain.

"My mother always said I was one-in-a-million," Khulekani chuckled back, turning the compliment into a humble joke.

"Well, I have to go back and check in eventually. If you want, why don't you travel with me? I know the way, and I could be your guide in the southern lands. If you can stand my company that is..." the Squire said, seriously.

When the Dwarf began his barking yet again, Khulekani promptly ignored him to continue her conversation with Moyrah.

The ghosts had been quiet in Bryn Shander. Atypical of a place where a lot of people lived and died. There were no signs of neither the Cobbler nor the Fisherman — the latter had not revealed himself since the day prior.

"Hmm," Moyrah humphed in response to Khulekani, "I have matters that need seeing to. In fact . . ." She paused once more, surveying the room. Farwalker was reaching upward, channeling her mending, Dannika was chasing the Chwinga which had wandered off somewhere, and Torgrim was contributing soft music to augment the mood. Moyrah gently shook her head and sighed. "I wanted to bring this up when Mallory and Rhydd were here too, but I suppose I can inform them once they return. Though I've only known you for a few days, I feel . . . how should I say this? More at home than I've ever been. At least since the death of my father. But I am afraid I have my own journey laid out for me, and that journey beckons me farther north. If we were to chase this Sephek Kaltro, there is no guarantee he has my parchment. And yet still," she said, gently tugging on her left sleeve to reveal copper red tattoos of intricate patterns in vague shapes of animals, "I might have all I need. I will be heading to the Sea of Moving Ice in search of a whale. It would be selfish of me to drag you along with me, so, although it pains me greatly, this might be goodbye." She'd of course only just met Khulekani, so the words were more directed to Torgrim, Farwalker, and Dannika.

"Ah, well, if you have obligations and duties to perform, don't let me keep you from them. I understand completely. And sailing the Sea of Moving Ice to hunt a whale sounds exciting! I've certainly never done anything like that before," Khulekani replied brightly, honestly fascinated by the idea.

"Hm...I've heard the name Sephek Kaltro before around Tentowns, but I don't know much more than that. Who is this person, and why are people chasing them?" she asked, Paladin-senses tingling.

It was a thankfully short walk from Town Hall, though even with it being brief Mallory still saw fit to ensure both her and Rhydd's boots were suitably bolstered with warming magics.  Even with it she still hunched and huddled onto herself from the wind while they made their way along the ice-slicked road.  It seemed it would take far more potent magics to safeguard fully against the cold, though whether it was a matter of Auril's mischief or just Mallory's intolerance from having grown up in a more temperate region was anyone's guess.

"Honestly... Red Wizards, Wights, a murderous shapeshifter, rogue cultists aligned with infernal forces, an Ancient Dragon... this entire region is going straight to Avernus at this rate." Though she bemoaned the state of things over the past few days, she quirked in momentary pause.  "Hm.  Cania, rather."

All the same, she cast her gaze up from within the depths of her fur-lined hood to regard Rhydd with a sheepish smile.  "Thank you for keeping with me through all that, Rhydd.  I'm certain you'd rather have been anywhere else, but I don't think I'd have been able to conduct myself with as much assurance had you not been by my side." she waggled the glow of her lantern a little nearer overhead his way.  "You played the role of 'glowering enforcer' swimmingly, I might add.  Such negotiations go far better when there's that contrast of sweet and sour."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:30, Tue 22 Feb 2022.

Lady Mallory's description of him as a "glowering enforcer" coaxed a hint of a smile out of Rhydd's otherwise stoic expression, although buried in the depths of his hood as it was, he wasn't sure whether she could actually see it.

"I'm glad that I was there," he replied. "Although, truth be told," he added after a moment, "I was the one who was tasked with delivering the Squire's message to Markham. 'Twas you who were the tag-along."

"Lucky thing for Markham and that lot," he muttered.

"How do you think that the Squire will take the news about the Red Wizard?" he asked.

"If he is likely to be as powerful as you say, I'm not sure that we could best him. Although I would not be surprised to hear that the Squire might feel honor-bound to make the attempt."

"Yes, and you had every right to simply dump the Wight on the floor and walk right back out to get yourself a well-deserved drink by the hearth.  You didn't need to stay with me through all that followed, but I appreciate that you did."  she clarified with a knowing tilt of her head.

As for the matter of Squire Kumalo, Mallory could only yield a helpless shrug.  "I'm uncertain.  I suppose it depends on whether she was tasked with handling the Red Wizard himself or merely reacting to the murders committed by his Simulacrum.  If the latter then I'd say she's done her good deed in all.  She seems an upstanding sort, but hopefully not blinded by misplaced obligation." Ahead laid the tavern - far quieter than before with all that had happened prior.  "I suppose we'll just have to play it by ear."

"Hm...I've heard the name Sephek Kaltro before around Tentowns, but I don't know much more than that. Who is this person, and why are people chasing them?"

"Former hired brawn of the criminal underworld turned fanatical serial killer, seems like." Torgrim responded offhandedly, attention still turned to his lute. "Targos' been sacrificing people to appease the Frostmaiden, and Kaltro has seemingly, conveniently been there to pick off those who get away."

Ogden puffed and shook his head. It seemed his special guests had matters more important than conversing with the proprietor. "MAGDA!" he turned around and bellowed before promptly trudging down the stairs again. At the bottom, he offered Mallory and Rhydd that same, weary exhalation, not bothering to inquire about the events that took place in his absence.

Moyrah folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. She wasn't quite as large as Farwalker, but the chair creaked all the same. "Murdered ol' Herve. And his daughter, just for good measure. Though it's supposed to be somewhat hush-hush . . . damned Naerth," she said, muttering the Town Speaker's name under her breath. "Miss Farwalker and Miss Mallory remained in his office to discuss matters, but I couldn't stand the stench of his shit. You'll have to ask them what the plan is." She shot Mallory a neutral glance once she came up the stairs. An inquisitive glance, and she had very much intended for the noblewoman to hear.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:50, Thu 24 Feb 2022.

When they actually shook off the snow and got back in, Mallory was concerned that the interior of the tavern would be just as cold as the outside given the giant hole in the roof.  That the ceiling and table alike had been repaired already left the young noble to blink in owlish surprise.  "Oh!  The roof is fixed already?  How did they do that?" she seemed as bemused by the development as Ogden had been but stepped aside as he shouldered his way through the room.  She knew better than to get in the way of a grumpy Dwarf and offered Rhydd another of many hapless shrugs.

Of course, the conversation at hand as she ascended the stairwell stilled Mallory's demeanor even before Moyrah's heavy gaze settled her way.  For a moment the young noble looked quite stricken and a hand lifted to fiddle at a small black button sewn to her collar that did not at all match the style of the rest of her clothing.  Her own half-bandaged gaze flitted about indecisively before it landed on Torgrim.  "Please tell me there's more firebrandy to spare?"

"Sounds like a rather unpleasant fellow. Hunting him would be in the best interest of everyone in Tentowns. Forgive me, but, did you say Targos has been sacrificing people to appease the Frostmaiden?! Do you have names? This sort of thing cannot be allowed to stand!" Khulekani declared forcefully, a hot flash of anger passing through her eyes.

She was so caught up in her anger that she only barely registered the return of the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:41, Thu 24 Feb 2022.

"Please tell me there's more firebrandy to spare?"
"Hup!" The music stopped as Torgrim's right hand grabbed the bottle and passed it to Mallory. "Careful there, it's got some bite to it. Imported from Mirabar, apparently."

Torgrim let his hand rest idle on top of the lute as he spoke. "Most of the names in Targos, I'd say. It was more of a mob organised raffle, with the first prize being 15 minutes of fame on the scaffold. Most people seemed to accept it as long as their names never came up."

Finally.  Mallory snatched the offered bottle with a bit more haste than was suited to her otherwise prim demeanor with one hand, a spare glass with the other, and quickly doled out a very heavy pour.  A snifter of the stuff had made like likes of Moyrah recoil yet Mallory took two deep pulls without the slightest flinch.  It was only after the glass was nearly empty that she paused long enough to give what lingered an incredulous swirl around the bottom.  "This isn't firebrandy." she remarked Torgrim's way.  Not that it stopped her from finishing off that last swallow all the same.

Khulekani's righteous upset about the state of Targos was one that Mallory herself shared, to be certain, but she was more controlled in the moment as she set herself down at the table.  Another full glass of not-firebrandy on hand before she relinquished the bottle at all, and another too-deep drink before she bothered to speak further.  "The matter is already resolved, Squire.  Apparently each of the Ten-Towns have been performing various sacrifices to try and placate the Frostmaiden; here in Bryn Shander, they seem to give a sacrifice of surplus food.  In Targos, they were suffering a food shortage because of an aquatic monster in the lake attacking their fishing boats, so they resorted to that barbarous lottery instead." the young noble explained in a carefully measured tone, as if she were cautious of her own voice in that moment.  "Miss Farwalker and I interrupted a would-be hanging when we arrived in Targos prior.  The man was spared, but murdered by a fanatic servant of the Frostmaiden later that night.  He and his daughter, Maia.  A child.  Butchered in their own home, still clung to her teddy bear."

Throughout her explanation, Mallory's visible, unbandaged eye had been fixed squarely at the contents of her glass the entire time.  She kept a controlled tone to her voice and measured pace in her words, yet there was no hiding the haunted look to her gaze.  The others had simply heard of the murders second-hand by her own telling or from Naerth.  But she, by means of Astre, had witnessed it directly.  Just as the phantom scent of blood, iced air, and lavender began to tickle her memory she quickly drew from her glass to quash it all away.  "Regardless, I confronted Speaker Naerth on the matter and, with everyone's help, was able to converse with the so-called Lake Monster.  It left peacefully for fairer waters, so Targos' food shortage will resolve itself shortly and give them an alternative to hangings."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:05, Thu 24 Feb 2022.

Moyrah listened to Mallory's comprehensive explanation, idling with a splinter between her fingers. "How certain are we that the hangings are going to stop? What assurance have we been left with? None. The Lake Monster was only one of the problems that plagued Targos. The other was Naerth, and he still remains. Did we mention that Sephek Kaltro was previously in his employ? And that both he and the Captain of the militia had every intention of covering for his crimes? It wasn't until Mallory forced their hand that they even cared to reveal them."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:33, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

"If there is anything you can trust when it comes to people like Naerth, it's that they'll always serve their own interests.  Naerth inherited the practice of the hangings from the previous Town Speaker; it would only benefit him to put a stop to it now." Mallory reasoned with a shake of her head.  "What better way to solidify his position as Speaker?  He can very easily spin it as proof of his wisdom and the quality of his leadership that he's not only gotten rid of the Lake Monster, but also put men back to their work, restored their food supply, and put a stop to blood sacrifices all in one fell swoop.  On top of protecting Targos from a pair of Ice Trolls and routing a would-be murderous arsonist."

All matters that the group themselves had accomplished of course, but Mallory didn't delude herself for even a moment that a savvy politician wouldn't sweep up all possible credit.  In truth, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she later heard that Naerth had pinned the murder of Herve and Maia onto Gam, given his drunken attempt on Moyrah's life as well.  They'd given Naerth an abundance of material to spin in his favor for an extremely paltry sum as payment, all things said.

"I'm afraid it's more complicated an affair than I like and there is no clean course of action where Naerth is concerned.  Sephek Kaltro, however, is a far more simple matter to address." she rubbed her brow with the heel of her fist wearily.  "However, let's handle one serial murderer at a time, please.  Squire; there's been developments with the Red Wizard you captured, and Sheriff Markham has requested our presence at the jail come morning to assist in an interrogation.  But in the meantime, can you tell us anything about your encounter with him?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:17, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

"Welcome back. And thank you so much for running that errand for me. My leg has since been healed, but at the time I was less than thrilled about making that walk," Khulekani said brightly upon the return of Mallory and Rhydd.

"Oh, um...I'd rather not join in the interrogation, if that is possible. I understand the need to get information out of a dangerous subject, but I find the whole process of torture to be highly distasteful. Unless the Wizard called for me specifically or something," she continued, biting her lip nervously at past memories.

"Well, in my travels through Tentowns, I had heard the vile deeds of Dzaan. With everything the region has been experiencing, I thought perhaps to alleviate at least some of it by bringing this man to justice. Red Wizards are powerful and clever practitioners, and I thought that perhaps by bringing him down some of the...larger problems might be lessened. Who knows what kind of magics he may have performed in his time here? The details of tracking him are unimportant. Needless to say, I found him in his lair. It was a decrepit tower in Hundelstone. But instead of simply attacking the man, I approached him under a...*cough*...banner of peace, and at his request disarmed myself for our meeting. During our conversation, I urged that he repent for his deeds, and willfully turn himself in to face the consequences of his actions. When Dzaan obvious did not take kindly to this suggestion, he violated the rules of meeting under a banner of peace and went to cast a spell at me. But Zula, my loyal steed, kicked Dzaan in the face and broke his nose. After-which, it was relatively easy for me to subdue him with a few blows and some creative grappling, and bring him to justice. While Red Wizards have much in the way of power, they seem to be martially deficient," the Squire shared, leaning back in her chair to remember the events of a ten-day ago.

"I doubt torture will be involved given the circumstances.  We hoped you might be able to use a spell to prevent the prisoner from speaking lies, as members of Orders such as yours have been known to do." she offered at least one reassurance for the moment.  "Regardless, it would behoove you to answer the Sheriff's summons, even if only to tell him no in person.  You are of a station, after all."

Ah, the ever-burdensome trappings of etiquette and duty.  Even so far away from polite society such chains still hung about here and there... even if Mallory herself was loathe of them most of the time, part of her didn't want to fully surrender that link to her home prior.  The young noble sipped at her drink while Kumalo went on to explain her encounter with 'Dzaan', though her manner remained passive throughout.

"Hundelstone?  The Sheriff mentioned Fireshear as well..." Mallory muttered in thought.  Their wagon had passed Hundelstone coming up from the south only a few days prior on their initial journey in.  Both sightings of the Red Wizard's appearances were far separated by days of travel; Fireshear and Hundelstone in the south, Good Mead and Caer-Konig in the north.  Easthaven where the murders happened in between.  "Why did you bring him all the way to Bryn Shander upon his capture then?  And what of the Wight - when did you first encounter it, and how was it behaving aside from being murderous?"

---

I doubt it needs to be spelled out, but Mallory is referring to the spell "Zone of Truth", which I believe both Kumalo and Farwalker would be able to access at our level.

"I...do have the ability to compel the truth among the weak-willed. I will do so if the need is dire enough, but I honestly do not like to utilize that aspect of my faith. It feels like I am performing a...a...violation of the mind. It makes me feel uncomfortable," she said, looking down and wringing her hands.

When Mallory asked the second question, Khulekani looked up with a slightly confused look on her face.

"It was in Bryn Shander that I first heard of the Red Wizard's deeds, and where the Sheriff first asked for my assistance. As for the Wight, I've already told you. It attacked and murdered some guards, and I was once again asked for aid in slaying it. This evening was my first encounter with the horrid creature," Khulekani explained evenly.

The concern of imposing on someone's free will was a worry Mallory herself was likewise familiar with.  It was an uncomfortable element of magic; far, far too easily abused and taken for granted.  To genuinely ensnare someone's mind and will was a loathsome act, so it spoke well to Kumalo's nature that she felt the same way.  "I'm familiar with the nature of that particular form of spellcraft, so I can at least assure you it doesn't compel one's mind.  It's more of a hurdle than a chain, so to speak.  If it would make you feel better, we could both remain within the area of the spell ourselves so you could experience its effects."

Mallory chose to not press the matter beyond that.  It wasn't ultimately up to her to coerce the Squire's cooperation, so she had neither the desire nor drive to pressure the poor woman further.  As for the topic of the Wight, she just hummed thoughtfully against the rim of her glass as she drew the not-firebrandy down by half in a single gulp.

"I'm trying to build a timeline.  The magics involved in controlling a summoned Undead need to be maintained each day and, if one fails to do so, the Undead will do as it pleases.  Most just meander aimlessly but Wights are especially malevolent, so they always become violent.  Hundelstone is well over a day's travel from here and the Red Wizard has been in captivity for days now, so he couldn't have been the one to command the Wight's attack on the guards.  It had to have come from a different source than the Red Wizard you captured."  she reasoned through the technical side of things.  The spell to summon a Wight was especially demanding both of arcane might and resources, so it wasn't something that could be maintained indefinitely on the road either.  The Simulacrum could have perhaps performed the spell once or twice but, with its energies depleted, no further.  So either the real Dzaan had commanded the Wight to retrieve his Simulacrum and was somewhere within a day's travel of Bryn Shander, or control of the Wight had been lost and its attacks were simply to sate its cruel bloodlust.  Which meant the real Dzaan could've been anywhere.

"And during your conversation in Hundelstone, the Red Wizard confessed to the murders?  What did he tell you of his actions or reasons?  Did you search the area for any possessions he might've had with him there?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

After having fixed Khulekani's pants, Farwalker had taken to slowly fitting the ceiling back together. Just, on the floor. Or at least as much as she could. Once she was done there, she'd taken herself outside and onto the roof, which was less of a process than it otherwise might have been. There were often bonuses to being rather large and generally immune to inclement cold weather. Or grabbing ice. From there, it had been a slow task of carefully not putting her foot through the roof while she fixed it, which was harder than it sounded.

So it was that she made it back inside, once again covered in ice. What she'd had on her earlier had melted, and then refroze. It was going to be irritating to clean her armour. "Everyone looks so tense. Did I miss some other awful thing that happened?" She asked dryly as she made her way through the room and towards her pack, which she'd left close to the fire. At least that was dry, given how it hadn't gone for a swim.

“Honestly, I could ask the same thing,” Moyrah said after Mallory had finished her torrent of questions. “What’s with you? Was the Wight not a one-off occurrence? Should we prepare for more?”

"There has been something of a wrinkle, Miss Fa-- oh, goodness, Farwalker!  You're more hoarfrost than anything!  Let me.  I don't care if you don't feel the cold; even Goliaths chafe." Mallory began to elaborate only for Farwalker's frost-encrusted state to draw her attention squarely over.  Unless Farwalker insisted on refusing, she'd get the benefit of Mallory's cleaning magics up and down a few helpful passes to clear away the frost and dry off any lingering wetness from her body, clothes, and armor alike.

Whether it was a matter of discussion while she worked or simply had to return to her seat to nurse her drink, the young noble eventually continued.  "I doubt we'll need to worry of another Wight, though perhaps lesser Undead still.  The troubling matter is the summoner himself." she cast a sidelong look Khulekani's way to gauge her reaction.  "The person you apprehended both is and is not the Red Wizard Dzaan.  I confirmed it with my examination earlier; he's a Simulacrum.  A sort of magically created doppelganger that is a perfect duplicate of Dzaan in every way, including his behavior, manner, and memories.  Which means that the real Dzaan is still at large somewhere amid the Ten-Towns, presumably quite close if he was the one to send that Wight here.  I can only assume the reason it was attacking guards was in an attempt to free the Simulacrum."

Up until this point in their brief association, Khulekani had either been the friendly and earnest young soul that seemed to get along with everyone, or the righteous avatar of her gods, dispensing justice with a zealous but cool passion. But now, she was not smiling or pursing her lips into a grim line.

Her mouth was simply hanging open in pure shock.

"WHAT?!?" the young woman asked, voice booming with disbelief.

The Squire shot to her feet, all trace of her earlier pain gone, and she stomped towards Mallory before grabbing her by both shoulders.

"Mallory, we've known each other less than an hour, but I need to know if you are speaking the truth or simply making jests. This is important!" Khulekani asked seriously, a strange mixture of fear, anger and...shame? in her voice.

She'd expected a poor reaction in the first place.  Yet the sheer vehemence in Khulekani's shout made Mallory flinch and begin to physically backpedal away as the Squire bore down on her.  She didn't get more than a step or two before she was grabbed up, pulled right off her heels with ease as she was a rather slight woman, which left the young noble wide-eyed as she quailed under that imposing presence bore down on her so abruptly.

"Sq-Squire Kumalo, please!  Calm down!" Mallory yelped as she tried to shrink down into herself, much the same way she did in days prior when Rhydd leveled a glower in her direction.  It was all too easy to forget that, despite her penchant for being thrust into strange encounters, Mallory was very much not some kind of daring adventurer who could stand firm in the face of intimidation.

While Mallory trembled, however, what at first might've been mistaken for a fluffy fur-and-feather lining about her coat's shoulders proved another matter entirely.  Astre sprang up in a sharp arch, disrupted from his rest strewn over his companion's shoulders in a lazy drape, and bore at Kumalo with as ferocious a yowling hiss as he could offer.  All fangs, flared wings, and glowing eyes in the face of a far more dangerous stranger as far as he was aware - but he'd stared down a charging Werebear for Farwalker, so he wasn't about to back down from an upset Paladin for Mallory's sake.

---

Just for fun, I rolled an Intimidate check for Astre and got a 4.  He's not the least bit imposing, but it's the thought that counts.  ^^
This message was last edited by the player at 23:12, Wed 02 Mar 2022.