Two horsemen ride up to a tavern...

"I know." Her voice is quiet. "And you're right, I do." She lays her sword beside her, clasping her hands in her lap. Images flash through her mind: Gerik's molten armor, the gleam of his eyes. The roar of her uncle's new weapon, the rage in his eyes. The fear in her father's eyes. They had been all but ripped apart by that moment, by the secrets and the lies. Katrin knew, even if her father had never spoken it aloud, it was the reason they left Hol. The real reason. Not the one they told each other to make themselves feel better. She picks up her sword again, tracing one final sigil. This one is strange. It burns black, fading much more slowly than the ones before it.  "You know, Ascian, you're a lot more than you give yourself credit for." Her eyes are tinged with regret. "And answers are only half the battle."  

"I'm not." He says it simply, holding her heavy gaze for a moment, unable to really discern what the emotion there is, only that he knows there is one. Between them the fire crackles, and the rune she'd cast hovers in the air before fading. " If you tell him yours, maybe he'll tell you his. Maybe not." He shrugs, an uncomfortable raise and haphazard drop of a bony shoulder. "Answers are important."

The regret in her eyes travels down to her smile. "They are." Her sword digs aimlessly through the coals.  

The feeling of Katrin's hand shaking him awake is quick to push the image of Kou's body from his mind, at least until he opens his eyes again and sees it lying across the campsite. He groggily rubs his eyes and fails to stifle a yawn as he looks up at the cleric. "I guess this is the part where I take watch, huh? Haven't really done it before, since the Seeker was usually doing it..." Before she can turn back towards her own spot in the camp for some rest, he reaches up and takes her hand, "If it ain't too much trouble, Lady Katrin, would you mind if I asked you something real quick before you go?" He allows her a moment to acknowledge him before continuing in low voice, "This group... are we good people? No that doesn't sound right. Okay, how much do you love that pretty lady back at the Fireblade? Ahh no! Ignore that. Well, don't ignore it it's relevant, but uh, before this quest how many people had you killed? Wait no! I'm sorry, that's definitely not a good way to say it. Umm..." he pauses for a second, scratching the back of his head as he sits up further, the blue of his skin glowing a soft orange in the waxing light of the campfire. "There's different kinds'a violence, yea? There's violence committed for justice like the Keeper did and violence for love like I reckon you're doing right? And then there's violence because you're evil like that bandit today, and there's violence because, well, gosh I guess some people just really like doing it... like Mister Kaed over there. I guess what I'm wondering is... is there really any difference between them? Or is everyone just telling themselves what they want to hear to excuse why they do it?"

Katrin kneels down next to Cal, watching the war being waged across his face. She looks out across the fire, towards Fireblade. Towards what was beginning to feel like home. She stays silent for a long moment, then smiles gently at him. "Violence itself is neither good nor evil. Just as people are not inherently evil or good." She pauses again, this time glancing at Ascian sitting on the other side of the fire. "Just because I fight for love doesn't automatically make me a good person." She smile sadly. "I've done many things I'm not proud of. I've killed a lot of people. And in every instance, I believed that I was doing it for the right reasons." Katrin traces a pair of sigils in the earth before them.  "I don't believe that anything is all good or all bad." The first sigil glows white, and the second glows deep blue. "If I did, I wouldn't be here."

Crossing his legs, he sits at rapt attention as Katrin espouses her views. "Well I suppose that does make a lot of sense," he sighs and looks down at the sigils in the glowing in the ground. His mind flashes back to the battlefield earlier that day, marred as it were with burns and blows and blood alike. Grasping out for his own staff nearby, he places it above and between the two markings. "But either way," he drags it haphazardly through the ground that separates the sigils, etching a makeshift scar into the earth, "the result is still pain and death." A particularly thunderous crackle of fire echoes over them as his gaze shifts once more to the Keeper's body. "It feels real crazy to think it's only been a few days since we met, and yet I've seen more violence over this short time than I did in years of sailing around the Cape of Bones up north. I hope it doesn't sound too naive to say I didn't expect that when I first set out from Hol, y'know? Everything seemed real simple." He nods to himself, attempting to affirms his own words. "That isn't to say this experience hasn't been real exciting and enlightening, though! We explored an ancient Tollonian ruin! I healed a crystal and fought a griffin and lost at a card game." He pauses briefly, furrowing his brow, "Say, you don't think there's any chance Mister Thrandimir used his illusions and tricks to help him win, do you?" Before she can answer, he goes on, "Anyway I guess my real question is: at what point do those reasons stop mattering? I know Mister Thrandimir says the ends justify the means, and I guess on a large-scale view that could be true. But! But if winning that big victory means losing yourself, do the means justify the ends?" He leans back, reclining on the palms of his hands stretched out behind him as he stares up into the twinkling nighttime sky. "Whose to say the same ends couldn't be gotten through different means, Lady Katrin?"

"Truthfully? I don't have a gods-damn clue." She lets out a sigh, and runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair. "And I likely won't, even after I die." She looks at Cal. "The question is, what do the ends justify to you?"

He regards her for a long moment in thoughtful silence, though no answer makes itself readily apparent. ”That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out. I think I’m close to an answer though.” He smiles warmly at her and pushes off the ground, standing up and stretching his arms high over his head, “Have a good night’s rest, Lady Katrin. And thank you.”

Rising in the morning, Katrin performs a ritual to preserve Kou's body and the party sets out. No manticores or bandits mark their way on the return journey to Fireblade. On the third day of travel, one week to the day that the party set out from Fireblade to stop the orcs that had stolen the village's grain, the party arrives.  9 Setum, 1190 It is mid-morning when the party pulls back into view of the tavern and surrounding farm-steads. New structures mar the hills. A set of ten or so tents surround a wooden watch tower across the road from the tavern. The more perceptive among the party can see the soldiers that they passed on their way out of Fireblade milling about, with a few standing guard. As the party approaches, two soldiers approach. "Halt! State your names and purpose!" 

As the party approaches the tavern, Cal feels a wave of anticipation come over him. The sight of the soldiers helps sets it aside though, and he raises a hand high to greet the men as the near the group, "Morning to you, good sirs! I'm Callahan and this here's Lady Katrin, Sir Kaed, Mister Thrandimir, and young Master Ascian. We're returning after being sent out on a quest by Lady Marianne of the Fireblade to aid the community here." He rubs his chin, looking over the fine black and verdant-green of their armor, "Actually, I believe we crossed paths before, when we were setting out, y'know? Met with your Captain, Beshk! Hope everything's alright here, we heard there may have been some trouble and rushed back fast as Comet and the other horses here could carry us, dontcha know!"

One guard nods to the other and hurries off back toward the tents.  "Wait here, please,"  the other guard says. A few moments later, the red-scaled form of Captain Beshk appears. "You've heard about trouble?" the dragonborn says. "What trouble would that be? How?"

An incident with the soldiers.  Those had been Katrin's words. They suddenly came back to Cal, just as the soldier started to question him on what he'd said. "Ah, well, with the Orcs in the area aggravating things, I've been calling on the stars and moon to lend me their sight if anything were to happen here. And, well, they'd told me they may have struck again so, y'know, we wanted to make sure we were here to help lend any aid we could to help in defending everyone...." He gives a slightly uneasy laugh as he grins, rubbing the back of his head with his palm.

Katrin steps up next to the fumbling Firbolg. She gives the dragonborn a stony look. "Listen, Captain, I actually do live here and I'd like to see my girlfriend before the sun sets. I'll happily answer any questions you have. After we've spoken to Marianne." 

The reptilian eyes descend to meet the dwarf's gaze.  "No,  you listen ,"  he says, not backing down from his challenge to his authority,  "My company has secured this area and we are responsible for the safety of the people here. So you will tell me what trouble you've heard of, who told you, and what your purpose is for returning to Fireblade at this time. Or, we can detain the lot of you and you can answer my questions from the comfort of a set of handcuffs."

Katrin meets his eyes, and her eyes grow even stonier. "You want to know about trouble? I'll tell you. The only trouble I've heard of is because of the actions of your soldiers. That's the trouble we've heard. Now I'd like to talk to Marianne, the only real authority around here.  If you don't mind."

" Is it worth picking a fight with a group who wish nobody here any harm and have proved themselves as both capable and valiant?" Kaed asks the dragonborn, his voice relaxed and calm, while his hands are raised in a gesture of peace between the captain and Katrin " Wouldn't it make more sense to let us pass. We mean you no harm. And we know you represent the power in these lands. There is no reason to let this go in a way where nobody wins."

Beshk keeps his eyes leveled on Katrin. "Ah," he says simply. His face is a mask, but a flash of something leaks through. Anger? Regret?  The five men that have stepped up behind him are bristling with weapons. He waves his hand. "Let them pass." As his men disperse, he turns back to the party. "I know why she sent you out. Did you find anything that will end this famine?"

Ascian watches the guards disperse, blinking vacantly back at the captain as he poses his question. Did they? He doesn’t even know for sure, but somehow that doesn’t seem like an answer. He waits a moment, expecting one of the others to reply, and when no one immediately does simply brushes by Beshk to head toward the tavern.

Out of the corner of her eye, Katrin watches Ascian move past the soldiers towards the tavern. No longer interested in holding a conversation, she brushes past Captain Beshk, daring him to stop her. The sooner she figures out what happened here, the better.

The party moves their horses and cart back up the hill to the tavern. After pulling the cart around back to the stables, they ascend the stairs on foot and reach the front door of the Fireblade Tavern and Inn. Bolted to the door is a new wood-carved sign: NO SOLDIERS ALLOWED Despite the icy tone displayed on the door, the inside of the tavern carries the same peaceful atmosphere it had when they left. Behind the bar, Na'arik looks up and waves with a smile as the party enters. The big man's brow furrows, however, as he does a quick scan of the party. His face falls somber. "Where's Kou Shin?" he asks.

Desperate as she is to find Rose, Na'arik's question brings with it the crushing weight of the reality she'd been avoiding the past few days. She glances at her comrades, then sits heavily at a nearby table, rubbing her temples against the headache that threatens to return. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to speak aloud the answer to the barkeeper's question.

Entering the Fireblade, the air of calm in the room is immediately deceptive in its familiarity. Nothing looked different, but deep down Cal knew everything had changed. The color drains from his face as Na’arik brings up the keeper so quickly. He looks up into the bartkeep’s eyes and opens his mouth, attempting to convey anything , but looks down, solemnly shaking his head as he walks deeper inside.

Thrandimir remains quiet throughout the encounter with the soldiers - just an old man huddled in the thick folds of his robes atop the cart, the broad rim of his hat pulled low over his face. Once everyone begins moving again, the wizard clicks to Steppenwolf, Kou's former horse, who Thrandimir has resolved to insist that they keep, since it valiantly defended their mounts from a wolf. The brave beast trots on, pulling the cart carrying the keeper's preserved corpse on towards the Fireblade tavern, and the wizard glances down at Captain Beshk as they pass. "Perhaps," he mutters just barely audibly, the only member of their party to give any answer. "We shall see." Thrandimir takes his time stabling the horse and securing the cart when they arrive, before heading inside just in time to hear Na'arik's question. "He fell,"  the wizard declares, calmy, but with the appropriate respect. "We should burn him tonight. It's what he would have wanted." Approaching the bar, Thrandimir tells Na'arik more quietly. "We should talk. Kou survived the dangers of the Hydellian retreat. There is another threat that stalks these lands."

Na'arik nods and waves one of the tavern's staff over.  "Hold down the fort. I'll be back." He leads the party upstairs to he and Marianne's room. He pours a mug of water into the cup on the dresser, and just like last time, it flows over the rim of the tankard, filling the room before draining away to reveal their library. Marianne sits at the desk, and looks up as the group approaches. "You made it back," she says. "Did you find what-" She trails off as Na'arik mouths the word Kou  to her. "What happened?" she asks.

"First things first; yes. We found the scroll," Thrandimir reassures Marianne, producing the ancient roll of parchment from the bag of holding. "We also have a few unidentified artefacts that you might be able to shed some light on for us. The retreat was treacherous, but we mastered it. The real trouble that we ran into was not Tollanian in nature." The wizard takes a breath before continuing. "There is a hobgoblin out there leading a bandit organisation. He calls himself Gesrik. He's collecting magical items. We slew a large number of his men, but he ambushed us as we left the retreat. Kou fell in battle and Gesrik and his men would have slain more of us had Katrin not channelled the power of Tempus's forge into the bastard's armour. It was a stalemate and we were able to escape, but we have certainly not seen the last of him."

Katrin's knuckles are white from how tightly she's gripping the hilt of her blade. She patiently listens to Thrandimir's explanation, then looks to Marianne, her eyes stone once again. "I will not let him escape so easily next time," she says quietly, a deadly promise in her voice. "But I have a question for you. What happened here?"

Cal nods enthusiastically, "Yea, we had our fair share of trouble dontcha know, but from how it sounded and how it seems outsides, something real funny stuff is going on here, too. Is everyone in the community right as rain or did something happen, Miss Marianne?"

Marianne frowns.  "I know you hadn't known each other long, but I am sorry for your loss. Na'arik, can you prepare a pyre?" He nods and heads back to the circle etched into the stone. A cylinder of water envelops him and he is gone. Marianne continues. "So as to what happened here. A few soldiers got drunk during their off hours and got handsy with Rose and then started a fight when she put them in their place."

Katrin smiles slightly. That sounds like Rose alright. But a deeper, darker emotion is building in the pit of her stomach. Her smile turns hard, and her eyes are piercing. "Who?"

"Two low-ranking soldiers," she says. "They've been adequately punished and have been confined to the soldier's camp."

"I take it that is why you've banned the soldiers from the tavern."  Her voice is tight as she struggles to control the anger building inside her. 

Marianne nods. "Correct. I can imagine how you must feel. I won't stop you if you choose to exact some form of revenge. But I can't defend you against all of Beshk's men."

Cal watches Katrin's not-so-subtle anger boil up from within, her words dripping with violent impulse. He can't help but flashback to their conversation just nights earlier, and wonder once more where the line for justified violence lay. "I'd wager we ought to see the late-Keeper off before we enact too much revenge. Though I'm mighty interested to here your thoughts Miss Marianne on the scroll we got, and whether its the answer to the famine we've been looking for."

She takes the scrolls from Thrandimir and unfurls them, giving each a quick read. She holds up the scroll of Create Food and Water. "This is an interesting one, but not quite what we're looking for. The modern iteration of this spell works just fine. But this one-" She holds up the transmutation scroll. "-is exactly what we need. An ancient scroll of Plant Growth. This other one a spell that allows the caster to speak with a dead body, so long as it is still capable of speech."

"Fascinating..."  Thrandimir muses in response to this new information from Marianne, once Katrin is done with her questions.  "We must record the spell's configuration before attempting it, lest it be consumed and lost."

"I'm already preparing to make a copy to send to the Verdant Citadel," she says. "This one, we'll use here."

Thrandimir and Marianne's voices are muted as Katrin stews in her anger. But she knows it would do her no good to simply seek out the soldiers. There was someone she needed to see first. Katrin stands abruptly. "Need some air." She exits the tavern from the back, and starts walking down to the farm. 

Katrin finds the Westbrook farm much as she left it. Noise from behind the house indicates a busy day of fieldwork for Wendell, Rose, and their farmhands. Circling the house, Katrin can see Wendell and the farmhands out in the field digging new irrigation trenches.  Rose is near the back porch, tending to the garden. She looks up with a radiant smile as Katrin rounds the corner. She drops her tools and slips her hands out of her heavy leather gloves. Tucking them into the thin belt around her waist, she stands. "You're back," she says. "Did you bring me anything special?"

The anger that had been stewing in her all but evaporates as Rose smiles. "Uhhh," she looks around, then back to Rose. "Does bringing myself count?"

Rose steps close, her eyes twinkling as she smiles. "Hmm, maybe."  Her arms slip around Katrin's waist and she leans down for a long, impassioned  kiss. After a few moments, she pulls back, wrinkling her nose, but still smiling. "You smell like the road."

"Well, we just got back. Haven't had a chance for a bath yet." Katrin's smile is subdued, and her eyes grow serious. "I heard about what happened."

Rose's smile fades. Her eyes grow fierce and some of Katrin's own anger reflects in those brown eyes. "He didn't get farther than a hand on my ass while his buddy was talking to me. He removed his hand when I removed a few of his buddy's fingers." The anger fades, replaced by a void of near-disbelief. "The fact that they thought they could come in and try to pull something like that...it was the third fucking night they were here, Kat. They got comfortable really quick."

Katrin's expression darkens. "Well, you can thank Audar for that. He's the one who got them here in the first place." She steps back, tangling her fingers with Rose's. "Walk?"

She takes a deep breath and her smile returns. "As long as we stay away from the soldier's camp and the tavern, yes. I don't...want to go back there yet."

"Your wish is my command," her smile breaks through the darkness. "I'm...not sure I want to go back there right now anyway." Katrin starts them on a slow walk around the edge of the fields, and the anger and grief of the past few days washes over her again. She thinks back to her heated conversation with Thrandimir, and then her conversation with Ascian. "If you knew someone was hiding something, would you still trust them?"

Rose looks at Katrin, confused. "Did you meet another girl in some ancient Tollanian ruins and this is your weird way of telling me?"

Katrin laughs, the tension inside her finally starting to break. "No, just some egotist who likes to hide beneath his hat. I can't figure him out. And it's frustrating as hell." 

"Oh, the wizard," Rose says, laughing as they walk. "They're all like that. Even the druids that came from the Verdant Citadel talked down to us. All these magic users...present company excepted." She gives a sly smile down to Katrin. "But to answer your question...I don't know. It depends on their actions, I guess. Do you  think you can count on him?"

She's quiet for a moment. "Perhaps. He's given me no real reason to doubt his resolve." Katrin chews her fingernail as they walk. "We lost someone out at the Retreat."       

She stops and places a hand on Katrin's arm, a look of concern marring her face.  "Kat, I'm so sorry,"  she says. The look on her face asks Katrin to continue, when she's ready.