A... shard of Angroron...?

For a few moments, Fanilly was entirely taken aback by the news. Certainly, the description of the pitch black, glasslike relic fit, but did such things even exist anymore in this world?

It was no use dismissing it as a simple myth, of course. As sure as the gods existed, so to did Black Blade Angroron. The Empty Sword, wielded by the successor to the vile Hidroroth, Orodrunn. The fortress once inhabited by the fallen divine spirit still existed in a ruined state, to the North.

There was no reason to doubt its existence, but the fact that it could be present here? How? Why?

The mere thought was like some kind of nightmare.

Fanilly didn't want to believe in such things, but at the same time she couldn't think of anything else that could adequately explain the fate of the fortress's inhabitants. Especially given the description of the object in question.

"You're kidding, right?"

Alette's red eyes widened as she spoke.

"That's... ugh, it does sound like it but..." she trailed off for a few moments, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, "No wonder we were paid so much. No wonder we were told not to touch it. Damn it!"

She glanced towards Clarice, as if hoping that the parasol-wielding mage would offer some sort of assistance, but she simply shrugged.

"It would explain why this place didn't feel like a curse, even if it does still feel awful," Clarice commented, drawing a sigh out from the pigtailed mercenary.

"Ah, Alette in distress is lovely, too..." came a comment from Abigail.

"You hush," Alette addressed her for only a moment before her attention returned to the knights.

Fanilly took a deep breath.

"If it truly is a shard of Angroron, regardless of how it found its way here we must recover it," the Knight-Captain insisted, "If it devastated the soldiers in this fort by driving them to madness, there's no telling what else it could be used for."

She had to remain calm and composed.

"This entire fort must be searched. Sir Fionn, since you volunteered to search the captain's quarters I shall leave that to you and Sir Fleuri. For the rest of you, it's probably best to start with the barracks and move outward from there. If it was taken here with the intent of handing it off to Alette's company, then it was probably in the possession of someone posing as a soldier."

She paused for a moment, glancing towards Alette.

"You won't get an argument from me," the mercenary captain responded with a heavy sigh, glancing towards the knight who had asked her about the Boars, "Sir Fleuri, I think? We've only found this one so far, and he was dead when we go here. Lying sprawled out in the dining hall."

She gestured to the dead Golden Boar.

"If we can find any others, it's not impossible we'll find out who hired these shitheads. Anyway, Abigail."

She turned towards the pallid, knife-wielding woman.

"You go with those knights to check out the captain's quarters. Got it?"

"Of course, Alette!"

As if overjoyed even to be ordered by her captain, Abigail quickly hurried to accompany Sir Fionn and Sir Fleuri.

"Clarice, I know you're not [i]just[/i] good at curses, set up a scrying circle and see if you can get anything from that."

The finely-dressed mage let out a despairing sight at the idea of remaining in the fort for any longer, but appeared to head for a cleaner spot before beginning to get out her tools.

It was only now it became clear that her feet hadn't been touching the ground the entire time.

"Bors, I think you'll understand why I ask you to keep watch?"

"Of course, Lady Alette."

"Great. And if the Boars show up..."

The Shark's razor grin returned as her eyes drifted towards Sir Fionn.

"I'll only play as much as they deserve."

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