The councilman eyed the elf-warrior, expressionless as she introduced herself and made her pleas. He looked to the other man, who, like his companions, seemed to have been dragged from the depths of hell by the look of him. His gaze fell to Gavin, a face he’d looked at several times already, but this young man—soot-covered, disheveled—had an expression on his face that made him almost unrecognizable, as if he was a completely different person to the one the councilman had seen serving Itallo. The thought of the dead lord curled his lips in anger. Some of the council who hadn’t been bought by him had found his movements of late suspicious, but [i]this[/i] was something else entirely. Like the man had made a pact with demons. 

“’Ysaryn’, hm? You are Scindere’s daughter then?” he said by way of question, still observing the rather raggedy group. He looked at the unconscious member of their party, gestured at the one on the ground. “I take it that woman isn’t Itallo’s bride-to-be?” He had met her when Itallo presented the woman to the council yesterday. A strange kind of alluring, the kind that was beckoning to them to give up their world, their own wives and families, to lay themselves at their feet. They were so enthralled by her, would do anything for her, in fact. Now, he wasn’t sure [i]why[/i] he felt that at all, and he certainly didn’t feel it for the bloodstained woman lying exhausted with her sword at her hip. He had many, many questions, as he was the sure the surviving councilmen had, too. Some of their number, who had been at Itallo’s manor when The Madness had taken over the people earlier, had to be hauled away or put down, behaving like rabid dogs and attacking others. The price they paid for casting their lot with a madman. 

He turned and gave orders to his people. They would be cared for, though under guard, at his estate. As much as there needed to be an investigation, he wanted to get away from this accursed place. Somebody came forward to give water to the group at his instruction. After arrangements were made for wagons to carry the rescued women and this group, they were off, the latter flanked by guards. Later, at his estate, they were put in simple quarters together, provided food and more water, while healers went in to look them over and treat their wounds. They didn’t quite know what to do with Kire, though, who was still asleep. She came in with a gash on her head that looked partly healed, and upon observation she seemed to have some broken ribs, which they had treated. But half a day later, the wound on her head already looked much better, as if it had been healing for a few days already. As they recovered in the room that was, in essence, a temporary prison, each member of the party, save for the one without a tongue, was questioned about the events of the day, with Gavin having been interrogated the longest. 

Gavin wasn’t sure if any of them would even believe anything he had to say, both because of his closeness to Itallo and the sheer strangeness of every horrible detail, but he gave them what he could explain most plainly: that his former masters had been responsible for what happened to Ziad, that they had captured and enslaved him and, under pain of death, made him serve the lord Itallo to use him, that they were planning to do to Cordon what had happened to Ziad. Had the people of Cordon not seen The Madness themselves and witnessed the horrors happening at Itallo’s manor, he doubted he would be believed at all. 

When it was Ysaryn’s turn, the councilman, pondered on the Chieftain’s daughter. Well-spoken, second language aside, rational, at least as far as he could tell. Save for the obviously very elfin appearance, she had the bearings of some foreign ambassador’s daughter. [i]Too bad about being elf, though.[/i] But still. Given the events of the day, the councilman had many things to think over. 

And still, Kire slept. It wouldn’t be till little more than a whole day later, when, finally, they were allowed to leave, that she finally woke up. The councilman had offered coin, too, for their trouble, with the implication that he was buying their silence on the whole truth.  She opened her eyes at around late afternoon, finding herself in a chamber she didn’t recognize. The first thing she felt was thirst, followed closely by a raging hunger, and when she took a deep breath, pain in her chest. It wasn’t as sharp as when it had been fresh, and she felt a cast around her torso that meant she had been treated, too. [i]Where am I?[/i] she thought, frowning at the ceiling, not yet daring to sit up. Gods, she was still sore. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” she rasped.