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[@ZAVAZggg][@Dealdric][@Rune_Alchemist]
[right]Falista, 33rd
1030[/right]

The chaos of the camp had died down long ago, the merchants done with their counts and their guards resting at their posts. The tension, however, was palpable. None could forget the sight of the injured men being dragged into the camp and none could shake the feeling of dread. The tent behind the three parted once more, a shaky hand landing on Einarr’s shoulder as a dreadful looking man shambled out. It had been one of the injured men, his other arm mangled beyond repair and his body now running on sheer adrenaline. 

[b]”They didn’t see [i]it[/i],”[/b] He said as tears filled his eyes, [b]”Nobody saw it. The Wargs were just scavengers. It dragged me and Heinar away in the night and we barely escaped. The Wargs smelled our blood and attacked. But IT just watched. It didn’t chase, didn’t try and kill us. It wanted us [i]Alive[/i]”[/b] The man’s body nearly collapsed as a wave of pain shook through him, his mangled arm soaked with blood. [b]”No scouting’ll help you. I pray you don’t encounter It.”[/b] The man managed to shamble back into the tent before a loud crash was heard inside, the result of him passing out. 

Even as the medics cursed from inside at the man, the party could hear the soft muttering of prayers from inside. Blessings of the Old Gods to protect them from this omen.
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[@Adalea]

Silence, there was naught but silence from the tent even as the scout had entered it. Before where there had been whispering and muffled voices stood now an uncomfortable silence. Even as the roguish woman drew closer, the voices sounded… unnaturally quiet. Eventually, however, she managed to make out the words from within the tent.

[b]”-es Sir, they brought the Order into the Camp. Them dogs ain’t loyal to us or anybody else. Just their foreign Gods. Jorn has chosen his path.”[/b] The voice was clearly that of the scout who had wandered off from before, the second of the two who had arrived uninjured. His muffled voice was stiff as if addressing someone much higher than him in rank. Even his shadow on the tent walls reflected his stance. 

[b]”Yer’ tellin’ me that Jorn chose his path but all I hear is that we’ve got an opportunity now. Lord Worim told us to make as much profit as possible off this run, to make sure the other Lords who agreed to this don’t get their share. And what a better chance than to just, take the Caravan.”[/b] The foreign voice chuckled at his own words and a shadow of a rotund man rose up in the shadows. [b]”We just gotta get rid of Jorn. Tell them boys out there that Jorn was gonna sell us to the Order, make a riot against him and hang him like the dog he is. All we’s gotta do is wait. Them Order boys’ll meddle if we try it now.”[/b]

The Scout’s shadow shuffled inside the tent, his uneasy stance falling away as he moved closer to the tent’s flap and his voice became gradually less muffled. [b]”We got the perfect timin’ then. They’re gonna go get whatever is in that Forest. Probably’ll die at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone, eh?”[/b]
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[@Lionhearted][@0 Azzy 0]
[right]Falista, 33rd
1000[/right]

The first to speak up at the pair was, of course, Lord Turin with a toothy smile at the two. [b]”You say we should trust you simply cause we called for some aid? That we should let you operate on an ill child simply because you say you killed your Father for peace,”[/b] Turin paused and turned his smile towards Sarathai, [b]”And you believe that all our manifests, all our attention on those in the camp outside should be enough to denounce an assassination? That you would surely forsake your Order in order to perform your duty?[/b] The Old man laughed at the pair even as the eyes of the courts landed on him, his attention turning back to Lord Erith who took this as his turn to speak. 

[b]”My lord, would you trust a man who would forsake his ties to this land to cure your son? Or a woman who admits to killing her own Father, even if she believes it for peace? I would hardly trust either to even clean my shoes. To so clearly denounce the Order you serve, to admit so openly to a murder. How foolish are you two truly,”[/b] Erith rested his eyes passively on the two, [b]”I don’t trust you for these things however to so openly admit to such foolish statements before a court of Lords and the King himself, that requires guts. I say we give you a test.”[/b]

Lord Turin glared straight ahead at his rival even as Erith’s smile spread throughout the court. The man who had so openly argued with him earlier had finally trounced him in the game of words. [b]”My King, I propose that we have them deal with the string of illness plaguing our citizens by First Wharf. You see dear travellers, they grew ill over Summer and should their illness last through this Fall then they shall be dead. To bury the dead in the cold earth when we have this chance to heal them would deem us unworthy to lead. Cure all three hundred of them and we’ll believe you worthy. How does that sound, King Gorim?”[/b]

The King stood silent even as he walked back to the head of the table, his eyes distant and a conflict seemingly brewing behind. Even as he sat down and looked back towards the pair, the conflict had not yet left. [b]”Very well. Do us this duty and you may handle my son. Fail and we’ll wait for the others we had asked for help. I fare you well, adventurers.”[/b]