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The Trial of the Champions of Phandalin

The hooded figure stepped forward, head bowed in deference as he shuffled across the floor of the audience chamber inside the Hall of Justice.   Siegfried moved away from his companions and stood next to Kavatos Stormeye and Preceptor Theraclast.   The party members could make out a narrow, hollow-cheeked face fringed with a white beard, but the man’s features were otherwise obscured by the hood and by the cloud of ceremonial ash that seemed to follow him as he walked towards the centre of the chamber.   “You caught that too, right?” Siegfried whispered to Stormeye, hoping to throw the wizard off guard.   He thought he saw the wizard’s ethereal eye narrow in the direction of the approaching figure.   Preceptor Theraclast cleared his throat and announced, “Sir Benegar Kevaethial, Envoy of the Gilded Eye.”   Siegfried couldn’t help but notice that the Gauntlet official had to grit his teeth before speaking the man’s name. Clearly there was no love lost between the two.   Behind the hooded man walked a woman. She too was hooded, but rather than robes, she wore a severe riding jacket with long tails and single-breasted waistcoat buttoned over her lithe, feminine figure. Her breeches were tucked discreetly into thigh-high riding boots, and she sported a frilly blouse, the pointed collars of which looked sharp enough to inflict damage.   Radegast frowned. This style of dress, if worn by a member of the Order of the Gauntlet, would denote a rank of Warden, a sort of combination judge-jailor whose duties included passing sentence and remanding the guilty into custody. Doubtless the Order of the Gilded Eye had carried over this position into their ranks. She did a quick mental review of the documents she’d seen in Javen Tarmikos’s study and recalled that the name “Warden Jessia” had been included in many of the warrants relating to the condemnation of prisoners into custody.   From the look of the pair, they had ridden hard from Helm’s Hold to make their appearance at the Hall of Justice that day.   Sir Benegar removed his hood with a flicker of ash and cleared his throat to address the assembly.   “Lord Protector, on behalf of the Order of the Gilded Eye, I come before you today with humility and in the spirit of friendly relations.” His voice was steady and confident.   “I must formally protest the asylum you have apparently given this band of spies and cutthroats,” he whirled and pointed a hand at the party members, sending a cloud of ash billowing out. “Your hospitality and your generosity have both been taken advantage of, Lord Protector.”   “These duplicitous thieves assaulted our High Commander, damaged and stole property of the Order of the Gilded Eye, and left a trail of murder and destruction in their wake.”   “That is a lie!” Varien blurted out, stepping forward. “It was we who were assaulted! Javen Tarmikos was the one who started the violence.”   “I have never cut a single throat in my life,” Bob added.   Sir Benegar ignored the paladin’s outburst and continued. “Under the pretense of volunteering to investigate ill dealings beneath the city, these infiltrators instead attempted a brazen theft of certain items from the Gilded Eye Chapterhouse Library.”   “These spies betrayed the trust of our Holy Watcher, and besmirched the reputation of our High Commander, Javen Tarmikos.”   Varien shook his head. “There was no pretense,” he said as he stepped out into the centre of the room. “I was under the streets of Helm’s Hold, fighting the darkness, when I was pulled away to call for reinforcements. We were going to fight these creatures on Javen’s behalf, before my associates discerned any ill dealings.”   He fixed Sir Benegar with a steely glare.   “Also,” Radegast piped up. “No lives were lost in that exchange of blows.”   Lord Neverember put up a hand. “Perhaps we should make this an official hearing, shall we?” He snapped his fingers.   The doors at the rear of the platform banged open and an aged gnome dressed in ceremonial armor and robes of Torm entered the Hall.   “Reverend Judge Falrenn Uskar, High Priest of Torm in Neverwinter,” a bailiff intoned.   “Now, now,” the gnome waved a dismissive hand. “Reverend Judge was the title granted my father, Oleff.”   “We view your authority as equal to his, in a time long past,” Neverember says. “One of these days I’ll get you to take that promotion, Falrenn.”   Uskar grunted and nodded. The diminutive Reverend Judge disappeared behind the tall pulpit and there was the sound of stairs being climbed. Finally, the gnome emerged at the top of the enclosed lectern and stared down at the assembled group.   “Lord Protector, General Sabine, Mayor Galt,” Reverend Judge Uskar began, “representatives of the Lord’s Alliance, Order of the Gauntlet, and Order of the Gilded Eye, and, er, others,” he nodded at the party. “By the holy edicts of the Triad—Torm, Tyr and Ilmater—these proceedings will be conducted in the spirit of fair and faithful inquiry.” He brought his gauntleted fist down firmly upon the lectern, and the impact echoed with authority in the chamber.   “As it should be, Reverend Judge,” Neverember said warmly.   “Listen,” Varien said. “We can get this all out in the open right now, if you’ll let me cast-”   “Your Honour,” Siegfried said. “In your court, would you trust one of the accused to cast a zone of truth?”   “There will be no use of magic in my court by any party in this conflict,” the Reverend Judge said firmly, “save for the antimagic field inscribed upon the floor before the bench. You will testify under the watchful gaze of Tyr, Torm, Ilmater and Helm, and your words shall be on your conscience.”   Erwen’s eyes went wide. “You mean you wouldn’t use magic to determine who is guilty?” he said. “Why wouldn’t you use every tool at your fingertips?”   Siegfried shrugged. “If Your Honour does not wish to expedite affairs, I am sure that the Lord Protector won’t mind having to fill his schedule with testimony, deposition and cross-examination, even on such a holy day as Spheres.”   “Now, my boy, the truth of the matter will be rapidly made apparent,” Reverend Judge Uskar said.   From his position near the conference table, Neverember nodded.   “That is all well and good,” Siegfried said. “For the truth of the matter is that the actions of the accused were undertaken lawfully, while the Gilded Eye’s arguments today are being made in bad faith!”   “And just who are you to be firing questions and accusations over the ramparts?” Sir Benegar growled.   “I am a suspicious bastard who the Lord Protector employs to discern untruths, lies, cults and corruption,” Siegfried said. “And exposing those who are intent on unseating him as ruler of Neverwinter!”   “I do not trust you further than Kavatos Stormeye here could throw you while standing within an antimagic field!” Siegfried turned to the war wizard and nodded deferentially. “Begging your pardon, Stormeye, but we all know that you could send a man flying over Castle Never’s highest tower if you wanted to.”   “You should be careful of what statements you utter in this matter,” Sir Benegar said. “After all, you were seen aiding and abetting these brigands in their escape from the Gilded Eye’s lawful inquisitor.”   “But Sir Benegar, remember I am not under investigation at this time,” Siegfried said with a smirk.   “Are you sure about that?” Benegar said, sneering.   Siegfried smirked back at the Envoy. “Yes.”   “Allow me to make things plain,” Sir Benegar said, turning back to the Reverend Judge. “This one speaks of loyalty? Helm’s Hold has long been a stalwart ally of Neverwinter, an important strategic bulwark shoring up Neverwinter’s eastern flank, guarding against the dark forces within Neverwinter Wood.”   With a flourish he produced a sealed document from within the depths of his robe’s sleeves. “May I present in evidence a signed affidavit prepared by Chief Speaker Amarandine Wanderfoot and the Speakers of Helm’s Hold, sealed by Holy Watcher Qerria herself, reaffirming Helm’s Hold’s continued loyalty to Neverwinter and the Lord’s Alliance, as reinforced by the Protector’s Law.” Sir Benegar turned to Neverember. “Lord Protector, you have nothing to fear from Helm’s Hold except continued service.”   A bailiff retrieved the document, passing it to Reverend Judge Uskar, who weighed it in his gauntlet, nodded and handed it off, where it was sent to the conference table.   Neverember left it unopened on the tabletop.   Erwen began to cast skywrite.   Kavatos snorted and counterspelled the halfling’s spell.   Uskar glared at Erwen, staring down at him from his spot on the podium. “I said no magic!” he said in a schoolmaster’s tone.   Erwen shuffled, averting his gaze with his hands behind his back. “Sorry.”   Reverend Judge harrumphed, and then turned back to Sir Benegar. “Do you wish to formally name the accused in this matter?”   “I do,” Sir Benegar nodded and cleared his throat. “Varien Aether, Robert Trevelyan, Pitt Moonflower, if that is indeed her real name, and-” he pointed at Erwen and grew somewhat flustered. “Their-their animal wrangler and gardener!”   Erwen, unable to help himself, began to cast conjure animals, intending for a swarm of spiders to begin pouring out of Sir Benegar’s nose.   Bob quickly cast counterspell, hoping nobody would notice.   Sir Benegar wrinkled his nose and sneezed, sending a silken strand of spiderweb shooting out from one nostril, where it trailed in the air currents like an overlong nose hair.   Erwen snickered, but then sensed Kavatos Stormeye’s third eye boring into him, and quieted down.   “Robert Trevelyan, Pitt Moonflower, please join Varien Aether on the floor,” Reverend Judge Uskar intoned. “This animal wrangler can remain where he is unless an accusation is made to him by name, as is the custom of the court.”   Varien, Bob, and Radegast stepped forward. As they walked over the inscriptions laid into the floor of the Hall of Justice, they felt as though their magically-enhanced senses were being blocked.   “Now we come to the meat of our accusations,” Sir Benegar said, warming to his subject. “Spies within our midst, plotting the overthrow of the legitimate authority in Helm’s Hold. I have no doubt the Order of the Gauntlet bears some blame, and it is with great regret that I implicate them in this scheme to fabricate charges against the Gilded Eye.”   Preceptor Theraclast stiffened.   “When caught in the midst of their treachery, these brigands assaulted several members of the Order of the Gilded Eye, including our High Commander, Javen Tarmikos,” Sir Benegar said. “They damaged many irreplaceable volumes in our Library.”   Bob smiled at the memory.   “Naturally, we viewed these actions as criminal and sent out patrols, as is our custom by the privileges granted us by the Protector’s Law,” Sir Benegar said. “One of our patrols was ambushed on the banks of the Neverwinter River. I am sorry to say that several members of the Order of the Gilded Eye were murdered, and their possessions stolen. I believe these brigands are the culprits.”   “We lost Brother Cardan, one of our stalwart Inquisitors, and his patrol, consisting of four knights and two paladins, including the scion of a Waterdhavian noble family,” Sir Benegar bowed his head in a show of grief and loss. “Their corpses were terribly mutilated and desecrated as if by those looking to cover their tracks. We were only able to identify these men by their ritual tattoos.”   Sir Benegar straightened up, zealotry shining in his eyes. “We demand that these killers and spies be turned over to Helm’s Hold and the Order of the Gilded Eye to face proper justice. Principally the lady, Pitt Moonflower. She was in league with the Order of the Gauntlet and illegally spied on the Gilded Eye. Moreover, Moonflower confessed to her actions in front of witnesses.”   “The Order of the Gauntlet must be called to account in this matter, and its agents punished,” Sir Benegar concluded.   “A point of clarification,” Siegfried said. “The accused arrived at Helm’s Hold on the second of Tarsakh, not even a tenday ago, and discovered a refugee camp outside the walls of the city.”   “That would appear to be the case,” Sir Benegar said.   “This is preposterous,” Varien said. “How can you accuse us of treachery? I am no spy, I just wanted to stab evil, and I intended no treachery against the Order of the Gilded Eye. I fully intended to work with the Gilded Eye, that is, until my companion”­–he indicated Radegast­–“uncovered evidence of treachery herself.”   “Varien, you realize we’re on the same side here?” Bob whispered.   “The honourable truth, spoken openly, cannot invite punishment,” Varien said to Bob.   “If it pleases the court, allow me to make an observation,” Siegfried said in a clear, confident voice. “Among the accused are members of the Lord’s Alliance and the Order of the Gauntlet. I myself was led to fulfill a mission on behalf of the Lord’s Alliance in Helm’s Hold, and I must submit that the question that should be before the court is the legitimacy of the information collected by these agents, and the legitimacy of the use of force that was requisite in effecting their withdrawal from Helm’s Hold, and in a wider sense, the lawfulness of the subterfuge necessary to discern the truth when faced by hostile agents.”   “Lord Protector,” Siegfried added. “The actions of these men and woman, however distasteful to the lawful rulers of Helm’s Hold, were undertaken with the singular purpose of delivering unto you evidence and advance warning of the Order of the Gilded Eye’s treacherous intentions towards Neverwinter. It’s the whole reason we ventured to the City of Skilled Hands to stand before you yesterday.”   Siegfried turned to Varien. “Varien, give me a gold piece.”   Bob sighed and tossed Siegfried a copper.   Siegfried turned and approached the bench.   “We don’t have time for parlour tricks, young man.”   “No tricks, Reverend Judge,” Siegfried said. “You have just witnessed the accused contract my services as their advocate in this matter.”   “I want to be tried separately,” Bob said sotto voce. “And get my own lawyer.”
“And who are you to be making this request?” the Reverend Judge asked sternly.   “An unrelated bystander,” Siegfried said   “That is not a name, son,” Reverend Judge Uskar said.   “Enough of this,” said Sir Benegar.   “I am Siegfried Thann,” Siegfried thundered. “Of House Thann.”   “Ah,” Reverend Judge Uskar inclined his head. “And you are invoking the noble’s privilege in this matter?”   “I am, should it please the court.” Siegfried said. “I wish to represent the accused, who may be slow of tongue but are earnest of heart.”   “That is your privilege, Siegfried Thann of the House of Thann,” Uskar said. He shifted his attention to the rest of the party. “Varien Aether, Robert Trevelyan, and Pitt Moonflower, you stand accused of crimes against the Order of the Gilded Eye, for which your advocate shall answer. I will give you a moment or two to confer with your representative.”   “Bob,” Siegfried said. “A spider has crawled into your boot.”   In spite of himself, Bob looked down and stamped his booted foot in a panic. He pulled it off and threw it at Varien, who tried to catch the incoming missile, but missed. The boot thumped off his borrowed chainmail.   Siegfried turned and approached the rest of the party, quickly outlining his strategy for their defence.   Varien took a moment during the recess to sit next to Mialee, who was fairly simmering at the tenor of the proceedings.   Reverend Judge Uskar called the assembly to order. “Varien Aether, Robert Trevelyan, Pitt Moonflower. You stand accused and are called to account. Your advocate may speak on your behalf.”   Siegfried stepped forward. “Reverend Judge, the accused would like to issue a challenge of their own, opposing the legitimacy of the current rulers of Helm’s Hold – the Order of the Gilded Eye – as the city has fallen into the hands of an overzealous madman.”   “Blasphemy!” shouted Sir Benegar.   Siegfried held up a hand. “If the accuser will allow me to continue. We would like to move a motion that the longstanding safety of Helm’s Hold has been placed into question as the hungry masses starve outside the city’s once-open gates, and the clergy of Helm’s Hold withhold their aid from the sick.”   “This is an abuse of both Helmite doctrine and the Protector’s Law and the current leadership of Helm’s Hold is brazenly ignoring the plight of the sick and destitute,” Siegfried continued. “I would thus request an investigation be opened to reveal the truth – that Helm’s Hold’s leadership has been overtaken by the Ashmadai!”   Discontent rippled through the assembly in the Hall of Justice.   The Reverend Judge gave no sign of being moved by Siegfried’s oratory.   Sir Benegar’s scowl turned into a smug smile.   Siegfried realized that perhaps he had overstepped his bounds.   Varien shook his head. “This is ridiculous – we certainly don’t need legal representation to speak the plain truth of this matter.”   “Exactly!” Siegfried interrupted in an attempt to salvage his opening argument. “There is much redundancy in the claims that have been laid out by the accuser!”   “I have another word for your accusations,” Sir Benegar said. “And that word is ‘absurd’. The Order of the Gilded Eye is not on trial here, and you cannot invert a trial to place the prosecution in the defendant’s dock!”   “Ah, but you can invert an investigation to accuse the accuser of false accusations against the accused,” Siegfried said sharply. “We submit that the laws of Helm’s Hold are not being followed, which taints any official protest lodged by the Order of the Gilded Eye.”   Dagult Neverember, who had been listening intently to the back-and-forth between the advocates, suddenly strode forward, nearly trampling Erwen as he did so. He made no attempt at an apology – it was as though he hadn’t noticed the Halfling at all.   Erwen glared at the Lord Protector. He would remember this slight.   “If I may,” Neverember said with authority, “I believe the accused’s advocate has uncovered an important point.” He turned to Sir Benegar. “Let us talk about the walls of Helm’s Hold for a moment! Why have you closed your gates to refugees? That comes perilously close to a breach of the spirit if not the letter of the Protector’s Law, does it not?”   Sir Benegar inhaled sharply. “My Lord Protector, the Order of the Gilded Eye, supported by your generosity, won an important victory against the Ashmadai when Helm’s Hold was retaken from the Prophet and her minions.” He gave Siegfried the cut-eye as he continued. “However, the fight against the darkness within our walls is not yet over. We were forced to close our gates while we dealt with the evil within, much as Neverwinter had to build its walls to contain the threat of the creatures from the Chasm, before it was sealed, again thanks to your generosity.” “Why was it, then, that when my companions arrived and distributed much-needed relief to the poor throng outside of Helm’s Hold, that the forces of Helm’s Hundred were so quickly mustered to arrest and detain us, admitting us so quickly into Helm’s Hold where others had been wallowing in the mud for more than a tenday?” Radegast asked.   “Arrest? Detention?” Sir Benegar replied. “Nothing of the sort. Your actions at the time were considered commendable and warranted a word of official thanks from our leader, Javen Tarmikos, and the Holy Watcher herself. In hindsight, however, your humanitarian actions were little more than a pretext to gain entry into our city in order to carry out your treacherous misdeeds!”   “It sure felt like an official scolding,” Varien countered.   “Then your defence is incompetent!” shouted Siegfried. “Why were those clearly capable of providing food for themselves ushered in rather than the destitute? Your incompetence allowed you to invite murderers into the city!”   “Ha, he’s got you there, Benegar!” Lord Neverember chortled.   Siegfried threw down his shield. “This shield of the House of Thann protects me, as I am just a man,” he said. “Helm’s Shield is meant to protect all men, is it not?”   Sir Benegar nodded uncertainly.   “Then either you are incompetent, or you are a liar!” Siegfried pointed an accusatory finger at Sir Benegar. “Pick a defence and stick to it!” “I do not deny this,” Sir Benegar said. “Zealotry in the pursuit of justice is no crime.”   “Your zealotry is indeed criminal!” exclaimed Siegfried. “You kept supplicants outside of a place of refuge while plans were being drawn up against your benefactor. The accused were in the right to uncover these plots and alert Neverwinter to Helm’s Hold’s treachery. That is why it is right and good to put Helm’s Hold on trial – the entire basis of our discussion hinges on whether the accused are murderers and assassins or merely concerned citizens worried about those you have abandoned to cover up your own crimes!”   “Order, order!” said Reverend Judge Uskar. “What evidence do you have to support your claims of alleged crimes against Neverwinter?”   “Only my eyewitness testimony, subject to truth-seeking,” Radegast said, stepping forward. “I saw plans of attack drawn up against the Jewel of the North. Maps, dioramas, and false justifications for aggression.”   Sir Benegar spread his hands placatingly. “Now, Lord Protector, Reverend Justice, surely, if such a model of your fair city existed, it was merely for planning a proper defence of Neverwinter in times of danger. You’ll recall that together with the Neverwinter Guard we built similar models when we plotted the siege of Helm’s Hold and reclaimed it from the Ashmadai.”   Bob stepped forward, and with a deep conviction in his voice, said "I too, saw these plans."   “Corroboration?” Reverend Judge Uskarr said, with a raised eyebrow. “A wise witness may prove worthy in dispelling falsehoods.”   Siegfried sensed the momentum swinging in the party’s favour. “Now, my memory may not be perfect, but I do recall that at one time the King of Neverwinter forbade the making of any maps of the City of Neverwinter. Why does the Order of the Gilded Eye have one?”   Sir Benegar smiled again. “Now, certainly, you cannot be speaking of the Kings of Alagondar, whose injunctions against mapmaking died with that line in the cataclysm some forty years ago. That prohibition against maps were made so that Neverwinter’s enemies, like Luskan,”   “And Helm’s Hold,” Siegfried said in Sir Benegar’s voice.   “would not gain undue advantage in their plots against the city,” Sir Benegar continued. “We know that the Lord Protector himself has commissioned maps of the sewers and underground sections of Neverwinter as a security measure. If the injunctions against mapmaking are still in force, the only one who would know is Atlavast, if he could be found, that is.”   “Convenient,” Siegfried snarled. “Also convenient that enough time has elapsed to allow for the removal of any incriminating evidence, maps or otherwise, from the Gilded Eye’s library in Helm’s Hold. And tell me, did you also ‘find’ plans in Varien Aether’s room at the inn to foment treachery against Helm’s Hold?”   “But I never made those plans!” shouted Varien.   “Now, Varien,” Siegfried turned and spoke to the paladin. “On what day did you visit the Heartward Hall in Helm’s Hold?”   “The first day we arrived,” Varien said.   “Which, as we’ve previously established, was on the second of Tarsakh?” Siegfried said.   “Correct,” Varien said.   “And, after that visit, right after that visit, were you not approached by a dwarf posing as an acolyte of Sune, inviting you to a clandestine meeting of followers of the Phoenix, Hyolyn?”   “That’s right,” Varien said. “The meeting was to take place that same evening.”   “And you solicited no invitation to this cult meeting?” Siegfried asked.   “No, I was approached by this Brother Satarin,” Varien said. “But I never attended any meeting.”   “Then why were you found guilty, according to this Gilded Eye warrant?” Siegfried stretched out a hand to Bob. “Robert, if you please.”   Bob sighed, fished around in his bag of holding for the document, and handed it to Siegfried.   “Thanks, Robert,” Siegfried said. “By the way, another spider crawled into your boot.”   Bob cursed at Siegfried in Tuigan.   “This warrant,” Siegfried waved it around. “Was opened nearly the very moment after Varien was admitted entry to Helm’s Hold along with the rest of his companions. For what other purpose, other than to immediately entrap him, would this warrant have been inked?”   “I would like to submit this new evidence to the Court,” Siegfried said. “As proof of the Gilded Eye’s overzealous prosecution. Although he was investigating this Ashmadai indictment, I know Varien to be a man of action and zealotry towards his deity. He is incapable of demonic worship. The idea is alien and anathema to him and he could not do what the Gilded Eye is accusing him of.”   “In fact, the Gilded Eye’s investigation of Varien Aether began months before his arrival in Helm’s Hold, even though the warrant wasn’t opened until his visit to the temple. And this “Brother Satarin was in fact a Gilded Eye investigator hoping to lure him to this clandestine meeting of Phoenix-worshippers.”   “May I review this warrant?” Sir Benegar asked.   Siegfried passed it to the bailiff, who passed it to Sir Benegar.   “Yes, this appears to be in order,” Sir Benegar said. “And if it is evidence, it is evidence of your thievery!”   “You do not deny that you would entrap an innocent man in a plot to accuse him of deviltry in order to cover up the fact that he embarrassed and shamed you with his charity?” Siegfried pressed. “This is the same sort of plot as, say, scrawling the symbol of Asmodeus on the home of someone you disapproved of in the hopes of manufacturing enough hatred to run them out of polite society?”   “Your Honour,” Siegfried continued. “The accused do not fall victim to malicious thoughts but instead follow the dictates of their hearts, which steer them honestly and truthfully.”   “I contrast their steadfastness with the heretical dictates that have misled the Order of the Gilded Eye away from Helm’s watchful eye,” Siegfried said. “They are murderous apostates.”   “Well,” Sir Benegar said. “Thank the heavens that you are not the arbiter or orthodoxy in this matter. Your counsel is not authoritative.”   Neverember chuckled again. “This is all well and good, Sir Benegar. I fear however that the Gilded Eye has grown too bold and too convinced of their own righteousness,” Neverember continued. “You mentioned your patrol coming to grief on the banks of the Neverwinter River. I have received word of patrols harassing farmers far from the walls of Helm’s Hold, north of Neverwinter River, which as you know has been the agreed-upon boundary of the Gilded Eye’s operating theatre.”   “It is as you say, Lord Protector,” Sir Benegar said quietly. “We pursue justice. Justice must be served.” His voice increased in intensity. “And in this matter, justice is clear. The woman, Pitt Moonflower, confessed in front of High Commander Tarmikos that she was acting alone in her treacherous and illegal search of our library.”   “Your Honour, I object!” shouted Radegast. “My confession was made under duress!”   “That is not a mitigating factor,” Sir Benegar gloated.   “My intent in giving myself up was to secure safe passage for my companions, who would then return under cover of darkness and free me from bondage,” Radegast said.   “You see?” Sir Benegar threw up his hands. “This treachery and false testimony in no way exculpates the woman, in fact it serves to incriminate her further! She must be remanded to our Warden for a proper confession, atonement, and cleansing before the Holy Watcher!”   “We have prevented a miscarriage of justice,” Radegast said sharply. “I attacked in the defence of others. I read and can recall records of injustice from the Gilded Eye’s secret archives, and our advocate has laid out the lengths to which the Gilded Eye would go to silence us. That in and of itself should point to the real guilty party in this matter.”   “I maintain that I have committed no crime!” Radegast shouted.   Out of the corner of his eye, Siegfried noticed Dagult Neverember and Mialee Amonodel exchange a significant glance.   Lord Neverember again stepped forward, heedlessly stepping over Erwen.   “I have heard that this operation was the brainchild of an Order of the Gauntlet agent,” Neverember said. He turned to the guards at the entrance. “Bring him in.”   The doors opened. Flanked by two Neverwinter guards was Captain Andalen Kraklos, who looked ill at ease. Notably, the scabbard at his hip was empty.   Preceptor Theraclast stepped forward. “Captain Andalen Kraklos, Whitehawk of the Order of the Gauntlet, did you send this Marcheon and her companions to Helm’s Hold?”   “I did, Preceptor,” Kraklos said in a quiet voice.   “And did you order this Marcheon to make contact with an embedded Gauntlet agent, a Whitehawk by the name of Jamie Lysandra?”   “Treachery reveals more treachery,” Benegar hissed.   “Yes, Preceptor,” Kraklos said. “It was my hope that their rash actions might provide the Gauntlet with the pretext needed to take action against the heretical Gilded Eye.”   To Bob’s ears, it sounded like Kraklos’s response had been well-rehearsed.   “Heretical?” Benegar snorted. “We have seen the truth that cuts through heresies like a sword through a tightly-wound knot. It is the Gauntlet who have strayed from the proper path.”   “Wait,” Radegast said, her eyes widening. “You sent me to Helm’s Hold knowing that I would get Jamie killed?”   Kraklos refused to meet Radegast’s eye. “You were sent to provoke the Gilded Eye into making an overreach.”   Radegast felt tears of rage spill down her cheeks, and only the antimagic field kept her from raining lightning down on Kraklos. “An…overreach?” she repeated in a tight, strangled voice.    “And you sent this group in of your own volition?” Theraclast asked.   “Yes, Preceptor,” Kraklos said, his face impassive.   “There, you see?” Benegar says. “Lies, treachery, and plots.”   “Now then,” Lord Protector Neverember said. “If this agent of the Order of the Gauntlet has committed a crime against a sister Order, I recommend that we let the Order of the Gauntlet discipline her as they see fit,” He turned to Sir Benegar. “After all, you say that this spy in your midst, this Lysandra fellow, was dealt with.”   “Yes, but…” Sir Benegar said uncertainly.   Radegast shook her head in disbelief.   “But nothing,” Neverember said with sudden authority. “Preceptor Theraclast, I believe you have some debriefing to do with this rogue Whitehawk,” he indicated the ashen-faced Kraklos. He then turned to Radegast. “And as for Pitt Moonflower, I recommend she be remanded to the Hawk’s Nest while the Gauntlet investigates the charges against her.”   Siegfried knew that the Hawk’s Nest was a Gauntlet outpost that guarded the Silverymoon Pass. The pieces suddenly began to fall together.   “So you see, Envoy Benegar, this was all just a misunderstanding and perhaps a bit of an overreach by the Order of the Gauntlet,” Neverember said. “However, in doing so, the Gauntlet agents as well as the oratory of the accused’s advocate have exposed an overreach of the Gilded Eye’s own.”   “What do you mean, Lord Protector?” Sir Benegar said.   “You are neglecting your duties in serving and protecting the sick and weak-willed who seek solace behind your walls,” Neverember thundered. “This is a crime against humanity for which the Gilded Eye must make amends. You shall open your gates and increase your intake of refugees until I am satisfied with what I read in the regular reports that you will commence in filing here at the Hall of Justice about your activities in this regard.”   “Furthermore, you are treading on thin ice with your clandestine investigations,” Neverember said sternly. “I do not take well to having rumours and lies put to paper about some of the city’s best people, nor do I like the sound of Gilded Eye testing the hospitality of New Neverwinter,” Neverember says. “You will first seek warrants with me and Mayor Galt before pursuing your next targets within these walls.”   "Wait, don’t we have actual evidence though?" Bob hissed to Siegfried. "Is everyone just being let off with a warning or something?"   “Not quite,” whispered Siegfried, nodding at Neverember as a newfound respect kindled in his eye. “Just watch.”   “If the Order of the Gilded Eye is flush with resources that they can waste on investigating unorthodox religious sects while neglecting the cold, tired and hungry at their doorstep, perhaps it is time to revisit our tax levy agreements,” Neverember said in a sudden jovial tone. “Galt, take this down. The Gilded Eye is hereby ordered to increase its remittances to Neverwinter by 23 percent for two calendar years, beginning at the close of Waukeentide, which is as good a time as any to review and revisit taxation agreements, I daresay.” “You would beggar us?” Benegar hissed.   “This merely encourages a more efficient use of the resources allocated to you,” Neverember said in a patronizing voice. “Perhaps this lesson will inspire a theological and operational awakening in Helm’s Hold, a rediscovery of your true purpose as defenders of Neverwinter’s flank, as you said so yourself. And never forget,” he said with the sudden steel befitting his nickname, the Dagger, “that the Protector’s Law can be withdrawn.”   He stared at Sir Benegar until the Envoy had to look away.   “What of the Gauntlet agents currently under house arrest in Helm’s Hold?” Theraclast asked.   Neverember smiled and turned to the Gauntlet emissary. “I say that you and the Gilded Eye need to come to terms, Preceptor. Now then,” he turned to Uskar. “Have you heard enough, Reverend Judge?”   Uskar nodded. “These proceedings will be held over pending the receipt of the required reports and remittances that the Lord Protector requires of the Order of the Gilded Eye.” He slammed his gauntlet down on the lectern with finality.   Sir Benegar deflated and grit his teeth. “We accept the findings of the court, Reverend Judge, but know that the Order of the Gilded Eye will be preparing our appeal of today’s proceedings.”   Siegfried stepped forward toward Sir Benegar. “The Champions of Phandalin regret the loss of life that was made inevitable by the pursuit of the Gilded Eye beyond their legal domain, and would like to return the personal effects of those lost along the way.” He handed the collection of Gilded Eye loot to Kevethial. “Please inform High Commander Tarmikos that I will personally convey our condolences to House Hawkwinter. In addition, House Thann will pay for the resurrection of the scion of Hawkwinter. I myself do not possess the requisite funds, but you may send the bill to my family villa in Waterdeep.”   Varien thanked Reverend Judge Uskarr with a nod.   Siegfried thanked the judge, sketching a flourishing bow befitting the judge’s station.   But what about my emotion damage? Bob thought to himself. Damn that Brother Vartan.   Reverend Judge Uskar adjourned and returned to his chambers.   Theraclast nodded at the guards flanking Kraklos, who escorted him away. The paladin managed to send glares in the direction of Varien and Radegast before he was led from the room.   Radegast returned glare for glare. “I’ll bet he won’t be a Whitehawk much longer,” she said before exhaling sharply.   Sir Benegar turned on his heel and stalked out of the chamber, his arms loaded with the personal effects of the dead agents. The Warden stared at the party members for a long while before turning and following the Envoy.   When the Gilded Eye agents had withdrawn, Neverember made a show of rolling his eyes.   “Now then, The Gilded Eye has kicked dust on our doorstep, and I in turn have poked it in its, er, eye.” He said to the remaining assembly. “If they respond poorly to my provocation, we may yet have a pretext to deal with them more harshly.”   He turned to his military attaché. “General Sabine, about Captain Dunfield, who leads the Mintarn detachment in Helm’s Hold. What do you think about his loyalties?”   “He’s an honourable man, sir,” Sabine said.   “Contact him. I want a full report,” Neverember said. “We may yet have to deal with the Gilded Eye in a definitive manner.”   “Done, sir,” Sabine said in a clipped tone.   “Lord Protector!” Siegfried called out. “A bottle of my family’s best wine says that you cannot best me with the bow this night!”   “Oho! Is that a Spheres challenge I hear?” Neverember chortled. “You’re on, Sigford! Let us repair to the Moonstone Mask and begin the festivities!”   Radegast ran to her mother and embraced her, rage and anger turning to relief as she let out racking sob after racking sob in her mother’s arms. “I’m so glad that’s over, mother!” she blubbered.   “There, there,” Mialee said, hugging her daughter close. “I told you I would use every tool in my arsenal, did I not? Now you’ll put in an appearance at the Hawk’s Nest, but you’ll be back under the protection of Silverymoon’s mythal before you know it.”   “Varien here is especially talented with the dispatchment of fiends, undead, and other monstrosities,” Siegfried was saying to Lord Neverember. “His talents will be of great aid to the city if directed with intent.”   “We thank you for your support and for the opportunity to serve,” Varien said.   “Some of us, anyway,” Erwen muttered under his breath.   “And as for me, my interests lie with Neverwinter,” Siegfried said to Neverember. “I look forward to the opportunity to serve.”   “It has certainly been an extremely interesting couple of days, Lord Neverember,” Bob said to the Lord Protector. “Once I make my way back to Emerius, I shall pass on my favourable impressions of your administration to my father, Alexander, who sits on the District Court of Emerius.”   Neverember gave Bob a patronizing smile. “Emerius, you say? That doesn’t sound like a local settlement. Where is that?”   Bob smiled back. “It’s far, far to the East. Perhaps you’ve heard it by another name, Kirkwall?”   Neverember frowned for a moment, stroking his beard. Then the smile returned. “Kirkwall! Of course! Well, having kind words about my reputation flung to the far reaches of the Realms confers me no small advantage, I daresay.”   The Lord Protector turned to the group. “Well, this certainly has been a trying afternoon,” he said with a wink.   Everyone laughed, Galt loudest of all.   “Now that we have adjourned, let us depart for the Moonstone Mask and get this party started!” Neverember declared.   Erwen felt a sudden stinging sensation in his side. He reached into his cloak and felt around. He pulled out his Emerald Enclave totem and was surprised to see that it had sprouted a new, thorny stem. His blood glittered on the tip of the thorn.   “What’s this about?” Erwen said, scratching his head.