[h3]Martina Stonehammer[/h3]
Well, she'd missed, but... At least someone had managed to catch the assassin.  Getting to her feet and dusting down the front of that garish collection of frills her mother had made her wear, she joined the knights who had surrounded the Nem, fully ready to let her have it...

...And then she noticed the scars on her neck, and her inability to speak.  Surely, this poor thing had been forced into this... Surely, whoever had done this to her was the true villain, the one truly deserving the fiery wrath that had been boiling inside her since the princess had been attacked.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as the undead knight tried to get the assassin to write on a napkin.  Without wasting a breath, she stomped off to someone who she [i]knew[/i] would have something to write with...

Her father.

Naturally, a big event like this filled with nobles was an excellent opportunity for him to negotiate new trade contracts and expand his business.  And whilst it was the dwarven way to inscribe such agreements upon stone or metal (thus creating a lasting, binding contract)... Well, Thaln wasn't exactly dwarvish lands, and sometimes even the most traditionalist of races had to compromise.  After a short exchange with him, Martina soon returned to the Nem, slamming a roll of parchment, a quill and an ink well in front of the diminuitive assassin.

"If you can write, [i]write.[/i]" The scowl etched across her face burned with barely contained fury.  "Tell us who did this to you, who made you go after the princess, and we assure you... Our vengeance shall be swift and merciless."