The sun has begun to sink as the village of Helix comes into view for the small procession. A hint of cool has reached the streets, the product of a steady breeze from the northeastern mountains. Perhaps in response to the respite from the heat, the market in the square has grown lively, with shoppers and merchants alike being boisterous. Urgritte, who is purchasing vegetable from a vendor, likely for the evening’s fare at The Brazen Strumpet, notices Sir Dryvyk and Andryr and waves in greeting.

As Sir Dryvyk, Andryr, and Stralber approach the Shrine of St. Ygg, they find the church quiet. Cella is dutifully sweeping the steps when they arrive, but quickly sets her broom aside when she notices the bodies in the cart.

Looking up to Sir Dryvyk, she asks quietly, ”These need to be laid to rest, yes?”

"Good evening Celia," Sir Dryvyk said with a touch of weariness in his voice. Though the ride from the crater wasn't particularly grueling, it was clear there were other considerations weighing upon the young knight and adding to the fatigue he felt.

"We've brought the bodies of Searlait and Kraomer to be prepared for funerary ceremonies. Brother Othar will no doubt have certain instructions. Is he available at this hour? I would speak with him a moment if so."

”He is in his study, reading and meditating,” Cella tells the knight, ”I know that he would be glad to speak with you at any time.”

As Sir Dryvyk starts toward the church, Cella speaks to the rest of the small party. ”Andryr, might I have your assistance at bringing these inside? And yours, sir?” Andryr and Stralber move to assist her.

Sir Dryvyk finds Brother Othar kneeling in prayer at the small altar which sits before the northern window in his chamber. The priest turns as he hears the knight enter and stands to his feet to greet him. ”You have returned quickly, Sir Dryvyk. Is all well?”

Sir Dryvyk gave Andryr a certain look and a nod as he left them the grim task of moving the bodies inside for Celia. "I need to speak with Brother Othar briefly and then we have one other matter to be dealt with. I'll meet you both back here."

Sir Dryvyk knelt beside the cleric, gesturing him to join.

"Lord of Righteousness, I pray for guidance this evening, for I have been forced into a difficult situation and my faith is tested. Please grant us insight and wisdom as we discuss the fell tidings I bear..."

The young knight finally stood and helped Brother Othar from his knees as well.

"It was bad." He probably could have ended there, but a slight twitch of Othar's eye signaled more of the story was needed.

"Barnabus's sapper blew a hole in the ground you could throw two of these shrines into! There were at least two killed, and perhaps another adventuring party entirely!" Sir Dryvyk shuddered and ran a hand through his hair. "But the worst of it, is that one of our hirelings committed murder, cold and deliberate, right in front of us. The explosion, though I don't understand it completely, was likely an horrific and unfortunate  accident. However, the actions which took place afterward were not. As bad as the situation may have been, murder certainly was not the answer. I've brought him with me unawares as to my intentions. Though I would deal justice with my own sword, I feel somehow as if it is not my place."

Sir Dryvyk related the highlights (lowlights?) of the story, up to and including the beheading.

"I believe Justice must be sought for this man's actions, but I do not trust Krothos as far as I could kick him, and my relationship with him will no doubt taint any sort of reaction from him if I sought to bring the matter before him. I've considered returning to the Guild Hall and letting the Guildmaster handle whatever disciplinary actions he would deem consistent with their charter, but I fear it will only be platitudes and wrist slaps. My other choice would be to bring the murderer to the Motte and decree his charges there. My hesitancy in doing so is that I still have companions in the Barrowmoors who need my help! At the rate they operate, I'll be bringing a whole wagonload of bodies back if I delay too long."

"Brother, my honor and duty, my Oath itself, compels me to bring this man to justice, but it isn't so simple as you can see. What am I missing? Have you any inspiration to share as to how I might proceed?"

”You carry much on your shoulders,” Brother Othar responds with an understanding smile, ”It speaks well of your devotion to the god of righteousness and to duty.”

“I believe Guildmaster Osen to be an honest man, but he is not equipped to handle a matter such as this. I think that he would feel compelled to bring it to the attention of Krothos Ironguard and, like you, I have no reason to trust that Krothos would handle the matter justly.”

He pauses. ”But I do not believe the matter is as difficult as you might perceive it to be. It simply requires a bit of strategic thinking.”

“Andryr is dedicated to the service of the church, and to you, as your squire. But he also remains a man-at-arms in good standing at Ironguard Motte. He is well regarded there. Use him.”

“Take custody of the murderer. Entrust him to Andryr. I will accompany Andryr to speak with Krothos and Ollis Blackwell. We will request that Krothos lend one of his soldiers to accompany Andryr to Ironguard Motte, where he can be delivered to Lord Viscount Kell Ironguard. As the terrible act did not occur within Helix itself, but within the greater Duchy, it is most appropriate that the Duke hear the matter and decide it. I have confidence that Lord Ironguard will give the matter the weight it deserves.”

“This will deprive you of Andryr’s service for a time. But it would also free you to rejoin your companions in the Barrowmaze.”

He pauses, then adds. ”We should approach Guildmaster Osen on one matter, if this course seems wise to you. He will have manacles in his possession and would likely be inclined to provide us with some. There are those within his guild who take up employment as bounty hunters on occasion.”

Sir Dryvyk considered quietly for several moments. The serenity of the Shrine lulling him to stay and let the worries drain from his tense shoulders. He eventually looked again upon Brother Othar. "I would indeed be putting a tremendous amount of trust in Andryr to do this. I don't doubt him, nor his ability, but it does seem as if the cards of Fate have been stacked against us lately!" It was a grim jest. "I wonder if we might simply ask Guildmaster Osen if a bounty hunter is currently available and have it done that way. I could post the agreed upon sum here with you and when the culprit is delivered and my squire safely returned, the sum could be paid. What do you think?"

"The advantage is that the fellow does not suspect anything at the moment. As soon as the charge is laid and manacles are on display, this all changes. We brought him here without suspicion and I simply wonder if taking him all the way to the Motte under similar auspices might be wise. Many of my Order are inclined to swift confrontation, but I must confess to being less trusting of such tact... the offset is that I tend to over-think and analyze the situation... creating delay."

"Can you find some tasks here to keep the twain busy while I go speak with the Guildmaster? I'll apprise him of the situation and check on the availability of a bounty hunter and what sort of price might be in order as well as obtaining a set of manacles. Depending on how things go there, perhaps we can enact your plan in some fashion. I simply want to see Justice served and have my Squire back in one piece."

Othar smiles and nods. ”I’ll have them fetch the glass for the broken window from Turgen’s. I can give a few silvers to Stralber if needed.”

At the Mercenary Guild, Osen listens to Sir Dryvyk’s account quietly, nodding when the knight explains his plan. ”Stralber is a good soldier, but he’s allowed his anger to get the better of him before. Foolish as it might sound, I had hoped that him spending time around honorable sorts like you and your companions might sober him further. Serve as a good example.”

“But I agree with what you propose. The Viscount is a man of well measured judgment. He will do what is fair with regard to Stralber’s actions.”

He glances over his shoulder at the gathered mercenaries in the adjoining room, then back at Dryvyk. ”I’ve a bounty hunter on hand who could assist you. The very best in the guild and certainly the most honorable. He’s had to do much to distance himself from the dark ways of his people.”

“Windroot!” Osen calls.

A tall figure rises from one of the tables and approaches. Sir Dryvyk can see the the bounty hunter who Osen has summoned is a gnoll, clad in scale mail, a broad sword sheathed at his hip. Osen explains the situation to Windroot, who shakes his shaggy head. ”We have spoken of Stralber more than once, you and I,” Windroot says to the guildmaster in a low rumble, ”Of how his temper might lead him to make a terrible choice. I am sorry it has come to this.”

Windroot looks to Sir Dryvyk. ”I will help your squire deliver Stralber to Ironguard Motte, Sir Knight. I have brought more dangerous than he to their walls. And I will ensure that your squire returns to Helix safely.”

The gnoll lifts one corner of his mouth in the approximation of a smile. ”They tolerate me at Ironguard Motte, for the job that I do. But they do not welcome me. If we remain there for a time, they will allow your man to stay at one of the inns. But not me. I will have to camp outside the city.” He shrugs. ”It once bothered me. Now it does not. I have a camping spot to the east, near a brook, that is quiet and peaceful. I will remain there until it is time to ride back with your squire.”

Windroot returns his attention to Osen. ”I am only helping to bring Stralber to the Viscount. Five gold will be more than enough.”

Sir Dryvyk nodded. "I believe so as well. This is not a clear-cut situation due to the fact that Remmund was under employ as a guardsman. However, the stroke itself was cast with a cold hand. I shall pen a letter to the Viscount with as much detail as possible and with Andryr's first-hand account, there should be sufficient evidence for the Viscount to make a fair judgement."

When the bounty hunter arrived, the young knight visibly stiffened. His family estate bordered the plain eastward of the mountains, and gnolls had been known to raid them. With a grace becoming his devotion and station, he was able to set those thoughts aside. Many a two-legged bandit there were, and most were not covered in fur after all.

After hearing the hunter speak, the unease lessened considerably. It wasn't the manner of his speech, but rather the obvious concern for a fellow of the guild that touched the young knight. It was obvious that some effort had been put in towards the tempering of Stralber Remmund prior to the recent incident.

"Five gold plus your expenses. I understand the hesitancy of the Motte, right or wrong. If you'll not stay within the walls, at least you shall eat well in your camp." Sir Dryvyk drew a pair of gold coins from his pouch and handed them to the bounty hunter. "I'll leave the rest with Brother Othar which you may collect with any further reasonable expenses you see fit to require. That way you can pick it up even if I've not returned from whatever odd business I may be about when you get back."

"If this is agreeable to you both..." the young knight sighed as he looked to the guildmaster and the hunter, "we might as well be about the unfortunate task of arresting Remmund."


-6gp, 2 to Windroot now and 4 to be left with Brother Othar

Stralber’s arrest ultimately proves uneventful. Sir Dryvyk, accompanied by Osen and Windroot, find the mercenary in front of the church. When Stralber sees the knight approach, alongside his guildmaster and the guild’s most accomplished bounty hunter, his expression shows that he recognizes that it is him that they have come to find. For a moment, his gaze shifts northward, as if he is briefly considering the possibility of fleeing, but the thought is clearly short lived. His head bowed, Stralber submits to Windroot placing the manacles on him without resistance.

Andryr evidences some uncertainty about Windroot when the bounty hunter is introduced, but Sir Dryvyk and Osen’s attitudes toward the gnoll quickly set him at ease. Another of the guild members brings a pair of horses and Andryr and Windroot help Stralber get mounted securely before climbing into the saddles of their own steeds. Othar intones a prayer, for the riders’ safety and for the sound judgment of Viscount Ironguard.

The silence that follows is broken by Osen. ”I’m sorry that it came to this, Stralber.”

”I will make certain he is deivered safely, sir. That all is done properly,” Andryr tells Dryvyk, ”You have my word.”

”We will return as swiftly as we are able,” Windroot says, ”The court in the Motte acts quickly, especially on matters such as this. I expect it will be two or three days at most.”

With that, he and Andryr set off on the road to Ironguard Motte.

As the three men ride out of Helix, Brother Othar approaches Dryvyk. ”Are you well?” he asks.

Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme had executed his first arrest. In his training as a knight, and his childhood aspirations preceding it, he had never imagined that this might be a part of his career. He'd thought knighthood was about fighting fell beasts and protecting those who could not do so for themselves. This was a grim day indeed, but he felt at peace, knowing that the God of Righteousness would respect his devotion to his Oaths and bless him for it.

"Stralber Remmund," the young knight addressed the culprit prior to their departure for Ironguard Motte. "Hard men face hard decisions. You acted rashly. I pray that this experience will make you stronger and that you will face justice with a sincere and penitent heart. Find sorrow in your heart and hope through a change of heart."

To Andryr, Sir Dryvyk replied, "I trust your instincts Squire Andryr. Please deliver this letter to the Viscount and return safely."

Sir Dryvyk then joined Brother Othar near the Shrine.

"A weight has lifted from my shoulders, but the ghost of it still lingers, I suspect it will for a while. Duty and Honor are easy to talk about, to aspire to, but much more difficult to actually adhere to when it comes right down to it. To answer your question, I am well enough. It has been a harrowing few weeks. A lot has happened and I feel we're only still at the beginning! There is great evil in yonder moor. I pray that I am up to it."

The young knight was strong, but pale and drawn. He lacked the stamina and hearty constitution with which the majority of his peers had been blessed. Had he been born under different circumstances, he might have served as sworn clergyman, cleric or congregationist, roles for which he was, perhaps, physically better suited. But he had chosen the martial route, and had excelled for the most part, hoping that over time his constitution and endurance would increase... but in the meantime, he continued to look a bit underfed and fitfully unrested.

"And what of you dear Brother. Have my companions and I not brought more work and worry to burden the mantle you wear? This has turned out to be much, much more than recovering a few old pots and rotten tapestries. Things have awakened and fell powers stir..."

Brother Othar nods. ”They do indeed, but this was expected. Evil is often content to be silent as long as it is not interfered with. But both I and Mazzahs expected such things to transpire when we were blessed with some who were courageous enough to enter the tombs and seek out the mysteries within them.”

“You and your companions have not added any burdens to me.” He smiles. ”There have been some unexpected developments and some tragedies, especially with the demon’s arrival, but they have not changed my convictions about the Barrowmaze. Left unchallenged, something terrible would ultimately emerge from there, something that would bring doom to us all.”

“You serve St. Ygg well, Sir Dryvyk. Be assured of that. Your burden is a heavy one, for certain. But your service is protecting the lives of the innocent. Every riddle you unravel, every unnatural threat you destroy, serves to keep the people of this Duchy, and even those beyond it, from terrible harm.”

"I appreciate those comments, and I'm inspired to continue forth. I suppose I should disengage myself and return to my companions. The serenity of the Shrine is certainly difficult to tear oneself away from."

Sir Dryvyk fetched his horse and mounted up. "Thank you again Brother for your wisdom and your insight. As usual, I come away with having learned something of myself and my place in the Order of St. Ygg. Be well and I hope my next return is much less grim than those of the past. For Virtue and Haste!" The horse nickered at the battlecry and pivoted on its hind legs as the young knight turned again towards the Barrowmoors...