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The Room Where It Happened

Laeral Silverhand opened the session by pointing out that all present could speak freely, as the council chambers had been warded against scrying and other forms of eavesdropping. “There are a number of issues facing our alliance, chief among them the matter of the Order of the Gilded Eye,” Lady Laeral said. There was a ripple of reactions across the room. Siegfried and Varien noticed that Ambassador Rhundorth’s ears seemed to prick up at the mention of the Gilded Eye, and Dagult Neverember was smiling like a smug snake. King Melendrach appeared unperturbed, and Ulder Ravengard rolled his eyes and scowled. “Bah!” Ravengard said. “This sounds like an internal political matter for one of our members, and not something that should concern the entire Lords’ Alliance council.” Siegfried cleared his throat. “It only concerns the council when an individual is picking food from other people’s plates, Ravengard.” Ravengard turned his steely gaze to Siegfried for the first time. He glowered. “The Gilded Eye has not picked any food from the plate of Baldur’s Gate.” Siegfried drew out the Mask of the Assassin and tossed it to Ravengard. “All that means is that you’re out of his reach for now. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been picking.” “Allow me to introduce Prince Siegfried Alagondar, Warduke of the Lords’ Alliance and the Champions of Phandalin,” Laeral Silverhand said. “I have invited these agents and champions to this meeting as they are well-acquainted with the activities of the Gilded Eye, not just within the scope of Lord Protector Neverember’s realm, but in other environs of the Lords’ Alliance, represented at this very table.” She gestured to the half-orc. “Siegfried, the floor is yours.” Siegfried prestidigitated a blackboard and began to sketch out a map of the Sword Coast, summarizing the locations where the Order of the Gilded Eye had conducted unauthorized assassinations and extrajudicial killings in the pursuit of their goals in Neverwinter, Waterdeep, and Mirabar, also listing Thundertree, Luskan, and Ten-Towns as points of interest where the Gilded Eye had left its mark. “And these are just the places where we witnessed or otherwise caught them red-handed.” “Thundertree?” Ravengard shrugged. “That was interference in escorting Lords’ Alliance trainees to their destination,” Siegfried replied. “And messages that the Gilded Eye attempted to intercept.” Siegfried then explained about the joint operation between the Lords’ Alliance and the Order of the Gauntlet and how the threat of demonic incursion was used as a pretense to keep starving refugees out of Helm’s Hold, to seize property from landowners within Helm’s Hold, to silence and unperson political opponents and those who spoke out against High Commander and Inquisitor. “Lady Laeral, is it proper at this time to discuss the letter penned by Javen Tarmikos?” Siegfried asked the Open Lord. Laeral nodded assent. Siegfried used a gnomish projection device he’d picked up in Ierithymbul, the Backlit Opticamerascopic 2000 , to display a blown-up image of Tarmikos’s secret missive to Laeral Silverhand requesting that Helm’s Hold be granted status as a member of the Lords’ Alliance in exchange for turning against Dagult Neverember. “You can see that High Commander and Inquisitor Javen Tarmikos plans to invade Neverwinter,” Siegfried said. “Tarmikos is either a mad zealot determined to bring war to satisfy his own insanity, or a cunning and ruthless tyrant who aims to dismantle the Lords’ Alliance and replace it with its own theocratic monarchy in which there can be no rule other than his own. He has already shown that he does not respect the law of the Lords or the Lords’ Alliance and applies his own demented justice in the murder of citizenry and foreign nationals in their own homes from his ivory tower in Helm’s Hold merely because he finds them distasteful. This would normally some Harper bullshit, but since they are not up to the task, it seems, it falls to us.” Lady Laeral smiled wryly. Dagult smiled as well. “I knew these Champions of Phandalin would amount to something, someday. Siegfried here has laid out the scope and indeed the gravity of the situation. It does of course fall to Neverwinter to deal with problems that arise within its borders, but as Siegfried had indicated, this is a larger problem - acts of aggression against members of the Lords’ Alliance. Neverwinter, Waterdeep, even Mirabar, have had agents of the Gilded Eye, as Siegfried says, picking food off their plates, and they must be dealt with.” “Hear, hear!” Dauner Ilzimmer piped up. At this, Onthar Frume looked a little uncomfortable. “The Champions of Phandalin, who have been assisting in this investigation, are the kind of unhinged adventurers of the most violent and dis-hinged sort that we know and love. I would rely on them to do this sort of heroic nonsense on our behalf, however, when a head of state performs this sort of activity, it disrupts your authority and your own work. This is not the action of one man; this is the action of a man who seeks to supplant the sovereignty of the Lords’ Alliance.” Siegfried paused. “Frume, you have a concern?” Frume cleared his throat and stood to his feet. “Ah, yes. Well, thank you for the opportunity to address the Council of the Lords’ Alliance. The Order of the Gauntlet of course works with a spirit of co-operation with this august body and we have on more than one occasion. The difficulty for the Order of the Gauntlet of course is that Helm’s Hold and the temples and palaces therein represent the locus of the Helmite faith. The reliquaries, the libraries, and the core of our very Order are safe and secure behind the walls of Helm’s Hold. And while we are currently experiencing a rather painful and divisive schism with our brothers in the Order of the Gilded Eye, they are in fact occupying the hearth and home of the Order of the Gauntlet. I merely wish to state the fact that harsh measures against Helm’s Hold may have unintended consequences and collateral damage.” “Thank you for your concern, Frume,” Siegfried replied. “You are doubtlessly devout in your worship of Torm. I worship Tyr, whose focus on justice guides my actions.” “Now then, Frume!” Dagult said loudly. “You of all people should be in favour of a guided hand, firmly inside a gauntlet, healing the schism in such a way that does not result in further unpleasantness, wouldn’t you say?” “Onthar Frume’s concerns are not unfounded,” Siegfried said. “From my own experience in dismantling cults within Waterdeep these last few years, once the cult leaders see an army at their door, the first thing to do is put people and papers to the flame. If we put Helm’s Hold to siege, Javen Tarmikos is exactly the kind of person who would sooner burn and poison his own people than see them fall.” King Melendrach slowly raised a hand. “Pardon me. What exactly are we proposing?” Siegfried checked in with Laeral to see if he still had the floor. The Open Lord looked back and forth from Siegfried and Dagult and back again. “To put Javen Tarmikos down,” Varien said. Another murmur rippled through the council chamber. “To dismantle the cult once and for all,” the paladin said firmly. Siegfried saw on Sir Lanniver’s face the faintest twinge of distaste in response to the use of the word “cult” to describe the Gilded Eye. It was so subtle that not even Onthar Frume, who stood next to the man, didn’t catch Lanniver’s poor reaction. Siegfried pointed at Sir Lanniver and cast hold person on Sir Lanniver. “Lanniver!” the half-orc shouted. Varien drew his sword. A rumble of confusion and discontent from the council members drowned out Siegfried’s shout. “What is the meaning of this?” Ulder Ravengard fumed. Sir Lanniver stiffened and frozen in place. “Who here knows the spell zone of truth ?” Siegfried asked. Varien stepped forward, sword in hand. “I do,” he said. “This is a transgression of protocol!” Ilzimmer spluttered. “We have a Gilded Eye spy in this room, in our midst!” Siegfried thundered, his voice shaking the wagon-wheel chandeliers overhead, sending candlelit shadows twisting across the walls and ceiling. “What!?” Onthar Frume said in disbelief. “I can vouch for this man!” “No you cannot!” Siegfried said. “You are too close. You are his friend; you would have no hint of betrayal until he stabbed you in the back! That’s how betrayal works!” Varien made as if to cast zone of truth. Lady Morwen Daggerford stood up, slamming her hands on the tabletop. “Whoa! Magic, in my chambers, without authorization? You must request permission to do such things under my roof!” “I have all the authorization I need,” Varien said, and continued to cast. “I can vouch for Varien as a follower of Sune,” Bob said, stepping forward. “Allow him to cast this spell so that we can clear up this matter quickly.” Dagult stood and gestured to Varien. “Let the man cast his spell, Morwen. You may find that a source of illumination has eluded us.” “Nobody asked you, Dagult,” Bob hissed under his breath. “I will explain myself,” Siegfried said. “When I speak I use emotionally charged language to insult and belittle individuals in a way that pricks the pride of those who care about the individual in question. Were I speaking in a room of Laeral Silverhand’s enemies in the hope of finding her friend I would speak in a way to diminish Lady Silverhand to find pain among those who care for her. This man,” Siegfried pointed at the immobilized Sir Lanniver, “does not like the way I speak about the cult he is a member of.” “Don’t worry Morwen,” Varien said brusquely. “This magic won’t affect you.” “To avoid ensorcellment, please feel free to temporarily leave your seats,” Siegfried told the assembly. Members of the Lords’ Alliance council moved out of the way as Varien cast zone of truth . “I must protest!” Sir Lanniver found his voice at last. “I am the leader of Watcher’s Ward Hall in Neverwinter, the Order of the Gauntlet’s base of operations!” “That is a true statement,” Siegfried said as Varien nodded to him. “Let’s try a few more statements, shall we? Did Javen Tarmikos have a vision of a weeping eye of Helm?” Sir Lanniver paused. “Yes,” he said. “So you believe the story?” Siegfried continued. “That Javen Tarmikos acts with the authority of Helm?” Sir Lanniver paused again. “Javen Tarmikos believes he does.” Siegfried shook his head. “That’s not what I asked. Does Javen Tarmikos act with the authority of Helm according to your knowledge and belief?” Sir Lanniver. “My beliefs do not confer…” “Your beliefs are the only thing that matter!” Siegfried thundered. Shadows gathered in the room, dimming the candles. Siegfried’s shadow rippled like a cape around his shoulders as he fixed Sir Lanniver with a blazing glare. “Javen Tarmikos is not on trial! Now are you a man of honour or are you a spy for Javen Tarmikos! Speak more half-truths and you will know us.” “Yes,” Sir Lanniver said. “Are you a man of honour?” Siegfried repeated. “Yes!” Sir Lanniver said, louder this time. A vein bulged on his forehead. “Do you serve Javen Tarmikos?” Siegfried pressed. Sir Lanniver tried to keep his mouth shut, but the urge to speak truthfully welled up and overflowed. “You’re damn right I do!” Sweat trickled from his hairline as he realized what he had just owned up to. Siegfried turned to the room with a flourish, all the authority of the one true king in his countenance. “Siegfried,” Varien said evenly. “Drop your hold person spell. Let this man reach for his blade before I run him through.” “Now gentlemen,” Taern Hornblade piped up. “There’s no fighting in the war room.” “Varien, there will be no need for that,” Siegfried said. “I don’t think any of these Lords take kindly to betrayal.” Onthar was trying to come to grips with what had just taken place. “L-Lanniver?” he asked in an almost child-like voice. “I’ve…we’ve broken bread together. You provided me with safe harbour when the Gilded Eye overran Helm’s Hold. And all this time, you were a hidden heretic? I believe it, but I do not.” “What was promised you?” Siegfried asked. “How many pieces of silver, traitor?” “Traitor?” Sir Lanniver straightened up. “We are not traitors. We are the true champions of Helm. Only we understand what must be done while our misguided brethren stand by and allow evil to fester without taking the blade to excise the tumour before it becomes malignant. We know the tumours are dangerous! That is why we do what we do!” Siegfried took a chair from the council table, turned it about and sat down on it backwards in front of Sir Lanniver. “So, you have the attention of the Lords’ Alliance Council. What tumours must be excised? What evils must be put to the sword? Teach us the wisdom of the Great Javen Tarmikos. All are listening.” Sir Lanniver cast his eyes to the floor. “I am but a loyal servant of the Order of the Gilded Eye. That is all.” Siegfried looked over his shoulder at Ulder Ravengard. “Grand Duke Ravengard, does this irk you?” Ulder was staring daggers at Lanniver. “A spy within the Council’s chambers? It irks me a great death.” Siegfried turned back to Lanniver. “Lanniver, why was it necessary to set homes ablaze in Mirabar?” Lanniver shrugged. “Well I wasn’t part of that operation…” “But you thought it just?” Siegfried asked. “Yes,” Sir Lanniver blurted. “The Order of the Burning Dawn had to be cleaned wherever it was found. Mirabar, Neverwinter, Waterdeep, Luskan, Ten Towns and beyond. Javen Tarmikos willed it. The Order of the Burning Dawn was an abomination.” “And the will of Tarmikos is the will of the gods?” Siegfried asked. Sir Lanniver chuckled and relaxed. “Yes,” he said. Dagult Neverember cleared his throat and stepped forward. “So, tell us,” Siegfried interjected before Dagult had a chance to speak. “What is the will of the gods when it comes to Dagult Neverember?” Sir Lanniver cast a dark glance at the Lord Protector. “Dagult Neverember allows evil to flourish on his doorstep.” “Now, let’s not make this personal!” Dagult said with a guffaw. He turned to the standing members of the council. “Friends, this unfortunate episode is another nail in the coffin for the Order of the Gilded Eye. Now, ten years ago, Helm’s Hold had fallen under a dark cloud of oppression and torment, and the sons and daughters of Neverwinter laid siege to lift that cloud. And though the air cleared for a time, it is now clear that there continues to be a storm over our sister city. It is with a grave sense of duty that we again ask the sons and daughters of Neverwinter to approach Helm’s Hold and make what has gone wrong, go right. It is right and just that the Lords’ Alliance consider this a threat to its collective sovereignty. The Gilded Eye is at your doorsteps. They have infiltrated Waterdeep, Mirabar, and yes, even my own city, Neverwinter. They have played in the streets here and elsewhere. We must restore the Order of the Gauntlet to its rightful place as wardens of Helm’s Hold, and that requires action. Decisive action. Do you not agree? I put this to the Council.” “Hear, hear!” Ilzimmer said. “And what comes next?” Siegfried asked. “What becomes of Helm’s Hold after Neverwinter cleanses it by the sword, excises yet another evil? What comes after the conquer?” “This is not a mission of conquest, it is merely a return to the status quo in such a way that such treason is not allowed another foothold in Helm’s Hold. Once the Order of the Gauntlet is restored and the darkness cleansed, we can see that Helm’s Hold has a bright future under the flag of-” “The Order of the Gaunet’s hand is not steady,” Siegfried interrupted. Onthar Frume crossed his arms and glared at the half-orc. “Not after this betrayal,” Siegfried continued. “Not so soon after this treachery has been revealed. Helm’s Hold must be in the hands of the followers of Helm, this I concede, but the Order of the Gauntlet must see to its own infection before Helm’s Hold can be returned to them. I say that Helm’s Hold should be turned over to a storied family, a friend of the Order of the Gauntlet. I would say that we put Helm’s Hold under the stewardship of House Hawkwinter. After the removal of the Gilded Eye, Helm’s Hold should be placed under the stewardship of House Hawkwinter.” A murmur rippled across the council. Dagult smiled even wider. “House Hawkwinter? A bold choice, Siegfried. Humph.” The Lord Protector paused in thought for a moment. “I believe we are getting ahead of ourselves. However, I am not opposed to the custodianship or stewardship of a disinterested third party. An objective one. Your proposal merely needs some refining.” “House Hawkwinter has shown themselves to be a family of prestige, of honour, of level-headedness and capability. They are loyal to Waterdeep and to their faith, and can be trusted to acquiesce power when the time comes, something that cannot be said of any other ruler we could name to the position. It is improper to remove leadership in a vacuum and install merely another corrupt vessel.” “But pardon me, Siegfried, was there not a high-ranking member of House Hawkwinter who had fallen under the thrall of Javen Tarmikos and the Gilded Eye?” Dagult said unctuously. “Yes, and I killed him,” Siegfried admitted. More uncertain mutterings could be heard in the background. “He was killed, returned to his family, resurrected, and brought to see reason,” Siegfried continued. “Of course, of course,” Dagult said. “Many families have idiot sons. Some of them don’t get to come home,” Siegfried said. “Such is the way of war,” Dagult said. Siegfried found he could not get a read on Lady Laeral’s reception to his suggestion, but Bob could tell from Dagult’s initial reaction that the Lord Protector did not care for the suggestion of putting a Waterdhavian noble family in charge of Helm’s Hold. Ever the politician, however, he recovered smoothly enough that few others would have noticed. Varien detected a quiet smile on Lady Laeral’s face during the exchange.
Ulder Ravengard seemed to warm to the notion of a custodianship, mostly because it seemed to be at cross-purposes with Dagult’s intentions. “I want it to be known, it should be returned to the Order of the Gauntlet in due time.” Siegfried said. “The worst thing that could happen is to remove Javen Tarmikos and then place a successor in his seat while it is still warm. We must conduct a full internal investigation.” King Melendrach leaned forward slowly, raising his hand. “Pardon, I’m still somewhat unclear.” “My guy, do you pay attention?” Bob muttered. “Is it the position of this Council that some sort of official sanction should be sought for some sort of correction action?” King Melendrach continued. “Many of the members of this Alliance are seated far away from Neverwinter. What are you asking of us?” Siegfried looked at Varien, Alec, and Bob. “Give us the afternoon and we can see this liquidated,” he said to the council. “We would provide the appropriate political cover, as they say,” Bob said with a nod. “The Champions of Phandalin are heroes for hire,” Siegfried said. “If that is the decision of this Council.” Dagult spoke up. “I am of the opinion that a decisive show of force, a once-and-for-all solution to this problem will avoid the inevitable martyrdom of Javen Tarmikos and his ilk. If he is disappeared, removed from this plane in the middle of the night, he would become a focal point for his followers to rally around and spread their heresy even further than Helm’s Hold. They would dig in their heels and the situation would become intractable and prove Onthar Frume’s worries about the future of Helm’s Hold to be correct. Tarmikos wants conflict. I submit that we should give him far more than he is bargaining for. That said,” Dagult continued. “Neverwinter has loyal forces at her disposal who might benefit from the leadership of these Champions of Phandalin to take the fight to the walls of Helm’s Hold once and for all. I speak of the loyal sons and daughters of Neverwinter who have been drafted to defend the Jewel of the North. They are ready to be tested in battle.” Is Dagult offering me an army? Seigfried thought. “These Champions of Phandalin have succeeded where others have failed,” Dagult said. “Perhaps they are the perfect end of the spear that we need, as Sir Lanniver so eloquently put it, to excise the tumour.” “When would these sons and daughters be ready?” Siegfried asked. “They are ready to ride from Neverwinter on my command,” Dagult said. “We have been building our strength and reserves from the ranks of Neverwintans in recent weeks. They merely need to be tested in battle.” “The spear you speak of will strike with the blessing of Sune!” Bob declared. “Thank you, High Priest Trevelyan,” Dagult said. “I can teleport the Champions of Phandalin into the heart of Helm’s Hold at the conclusion of this meeting,” Siegfried said to Dagult. “Your army can ride out to finish off the headless chicken.” “Are you sure you would not better served in a position of leadership over said army?” Dagult asked Siegfried. “It’s your army though, Dagult,” Varien said. “We are not your dogs.” “I have all the faith in the Realms of your army, Dagult,” Siegfried said. “I just don’t want their swords behind me.” At this, Dagult chortled. “We all know that Lord Protectors all want to be Kings,” Siegfried continued. Grand Duke Ravengard laughed loudly at this. Dagult smiled. “Well, let it never be said that I was not generous in my offering.” Siegfried moved to shake Dagult’s hand. “Your offer is welcome. And your army will be needed. It’s just so easy for a blade to find a prince in the heat of battle.” “Well, I’m sorry that your opinion of the sons and daughters of Neverwinter is so low!” Dagult replied. “That you would not stand shoulder to shoulder with them.” “I would love to stand beside them,” Siegfried countered. “They just haven’t met me yet.” “There is time, Siegfried,” Dagult said. “There is time.” “In the next battle we ride together,” Siegfried said, placing an arm on Dagult’s shoulder. “See Lanniver? This is how you do it,” Siegfried said to Sir Lanniver. Lanniver sighed. “I’m ready for my formal interrogation,” he muttered. Onthar Frume was crestfallen. Lady Laeral invited the council members to retake their seats. “I open the floor to other members of the Lords’ Alliance Council,” she said diplomatically. High Mage Taern Hornblade wore an expression of caution. “ Calculated risks are necessary to win this war, and no one is likely to emerge unscathed. Tell me, Champions of Phandalin, what assurances can you offer that the risks are worth the reward in this situation?” “While decisive action is not taken, refugees fleeing vampires in Port LLast starve outside the gates of Helm’s Hold or are snatched up by frost giants, instead of finding safe harbour within her walls,” Siegfried said. “Their starvation and destitution is enough to convince me that the risk is worth the reward. But if you want to know the truth of how this affects Silverymoon?” He turned to Sir Lanniver. “Lanniver! What is Helm’s vision for Silverymoon?” “I do not know,” Lanniver admitted. “Well, I do,” Siegfried said. “Allow me to speak as a prophet. Marked, confessed, atoned,and cleansed! As is ongoing in Helm’s Hold, as is ongoing in Neverwinter, Waterdeep and Mirabar. Next on the list would be Yartar, Mirabar, and Silverymoon, for as Helm’s domain encompasses Faerun, so does the ambition of Javen Tarmikos. What is not a problem now will become a problem in five year’s time. In the meantime, refugees starve.” There was another murmur among the council members. “All that remains is to determine the pay grade of your executioners,” Siegfried indicated the Champions of Phandalin. “Name the price on Javen Tarmikos’s head.” “That is somewhat crass, don’t you think?” Dagult said. “Headsmen and soldiers receive wages,” Siegfried said. “Adventurers either receive wages or take their cut from the dragon’s hoard.” “And what is the going rate for the Champions of Phandalin?” Lady Laeral asked. “I have no idea!” Siegfried indicated his companions. “These guys keep working for free and I keep telling them they have to advocate for themselves and get paid for fair labour. They’re all broke!” “What do we need money for now?” Bob asked. “All right, I’ve got it,” Siegfried said. “Magic plate armour for my companion Varien, and a large donation to the nearest temple or church of Sune in each of the Lords’ Alliance member cities. And, High Mage Hornblade, an invitation to one of Silverymoon’s famed libraries for my friend Grandur here.” Ulder Ravengard shrugged. “I am trusted with protecting thousands of lives in Baldur’s Gate, and I will not betray that trust no matter what my personal desires. The affairs of Neverwinter shall play out as they will.” Dagult said, “The people of Neverwinter need strong leaders to protect them, and to do what must be done even when it is distasteful. The Champions of Phandalin are champions of doing what must be done.” “Hear, hear!” said Ilzimmer. “Rhundorth, what say you?” Ambassador Rhundorth stood. “Mirabar will support this course of action, however we are in a season of rebuilding and cannot offer much in the way of resources.” At this, Connerad Brawnanvil said, “A sturdy axe, a strong hand to hold it, and a straight fight are all we need to end this little problem. But Mithral Hill will be raisin’ no axe.” King Melendrach slowly got to his feet. “The Misty Forest shall not stand athwart the Council on this matter, however I cannot squander the waning strength of the greatest race on Faerun. But, I shall not oppose your efforts.” I thought the Netherese were the greatest race on Faerun, Siegfried said. Waterbaron Nestra Ruthiol said “Yartar shall support this corrective action with whatever resources we are able to bring to bear.” “Chief among those resources should be food and shelter for the refugees and supplies for the occupying forces of Neverwinter,” Siegfried said. “Ambassador Rhundorth, would Mirabar be able to send a team of masons in a month’s time to aid in Helm’s Hold’s rebuilding? We shall not ask for your stone, but for your skill and leadership in repairing walls.” Rhundorth wavered for a moment. Connerad Brawnanvil stood to his feet. “The masons and stonecutters of Mithral Hall are far more skilled than those clumsy oafs in Mirabar. I think we can rustle up a detail and send them your way.” Siegfried realized that spiting Rhundorth was Connerad’s chief concern. “Rhundorth, in that case, can I commission you as master blacksmith to craft a special suit of armour for my comrade Varien Aether when Mirabar’s rebuilding is complete?” Ambassador Rhundorth nodded. “We would relish the opportunity to outfit such a champion, to be sure. When we are back at full strength.” Morwen Daggerford said. “Daggerford is small and very far from the field of battle. We can contribute very little.” “Varien here has business in Dragonspear Castle,” Siegfried said. “Perhaps we can rely on your hospitality for a few days’ longer here?” Duchess Daggerford nodded. “Amphail shall support Neverwinter with troops,” Dauner Ilzimmer said, to the surprise of absolutely no one. “King Melendrach, speaking as one with family ties to the Kingdom of Many Arrows,” Siegfried said. “Many Arrows!?” There was some consternation at the council. “Yes, yes,” Siegfried waved the council down. “My brother is currently in a position of leadership and I am sorting it out on the side. I’ve got a mighty axe of orc leadership and I have the matter in hand. Now, I’m going to ask an uncomfortable question. I know the Eldreth Veluuthra are active in Neverwinter Wood near Helm’s Hold. Is that something you’re aware of.” King Melendrach was slow in responding. “I have heard rumours of those extremists, yes, within the last century or so.” Siegfired pulled out one of the ruendils. “I can confirm they are quite active,” he said. “And more recently.” King Melendrach was impassive, but didn’t seem overly bothered by the Eldreth Veluuthra. “While the Eldreth Veluuthra in Neverwinter Wood were dealt a deadly blow by the Champions of Phandalin, I am conscious of their ability to wreak sabotage and havoc behind our lines should we move against Helm’s Hold via Neverwinter Wood. Can you provide scouts and rangers to perform counter-intelligence against their efforts?” “My people will remain on this side of the Delimbyr River,” King Melendrach said smoothly. “Silverymoon will give its assent to the special military operation,” High Mage Hornblade said. “Frume, can you disseminate to your colleagues in the Gauntlet that this Council did not come to a firm decision today?” Siegfried asked. Frume nodded dejectedly. “I think we can make that happen.” “There’s a good lad, Frume,” Dagult said. “I knew we could get you to play ball.” Siegfried yielded the floor back to Lady Laeral. “It is so decided,” the Open Lord said. “The Council shall not disapprove of Neverwinter’s special military operation to correct the issues that have been brought before the Council.” She thumped her spherical gavel on the arm of her chair, ending the meeting. The council began to break up. Siegfried pulled Duchess Daggerford aside. “Duchess Morwen, could we avail ourselves of your library for information on Dragonspear Castle?” “Of course,” the Duchess said.