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"THEY are after me" says Mr Swathmore, rising from his bed with one hand under his head, "That's why they killed Baring, because he would have protected me. I'm sure of it. Maybe we should break out of this inn, it's obviously been targetted. But I don't have the strength, I don't have the strength. It was a mistake to come here. I've signed death sentences for you all."

"I think he's delusional" says Betty, "Now now, Mr Swathmore, don't you worry. "

She takes Brenna aside. "I don't think we should tell him about the orcs" she said, "but orcs are prowling about. They might be after him in some way. We need to do something, Brenna."


Meanwhile Pint leaves Lieutenant Peter. "It must be that dwarf" he hears the lieutenant mutter to a soldier, as he turns away.
Dalin is looking disconsolate.
"They suspect me" he says, "but you were with me the whole time we were away. I only left you after Rosaldind screamed, after captain baring had been poisoned. So I couldn't have done it. I hope you told that to Lieutenant Peter. But he thinks it's just dwarf covering for dwarf. I think he might be an anti-dwarf person."
He sighs.
"You know we Firin never tell a lie" he says, "But even that has been turned against me. Lieutenant Peter, he says that Mistress Weather is a fraud, and I must be lying about that. So Firin never lie is in fact a big lie. But Mistress Weather is genuine, at least as far as I know - I'm not saying she's a Firin herself - but I personally have seen her power. And I told this to Lieutenant Peter, but still he didn't believe me. He thinks that because of her knowledge of poisons, Mistress Weather must have put me up to it. But why would either of us want to kill Captain Baring? It doesn't make sense. At least to that point, he admitted he was beaten. But he thinks I did it."

"We know it can't be you" says Caitlin, "Because if you wanted to kill Captain Baring all you had to do was to strike him down outside and claim he'd been killed in a fight with orcs. Who would have been able to disbelieve you? No, it can't have been the dwarves. But who could it be? Who hates Captain Baring so much that they want to kill him?"

"Plenty of people seem to have disliked him" says Lady Helena, "Can't say I cared for him myself, though of course I didn't kill him. Obnoxious, patronising, arrogant man. Lieutenant Peter, if I dare say it. Notice how keen he is to make clear it's him who's running the investigation? What better way to deflect suspicion?"

The bell rings. Bald Mick enters the common room. He looks scared.
"It could be a trap" says a soldier, "Orcs never go about alone, there must be more of them out there, prowling about. Besides, who would come in at this time of night?"
"I've got to answer it" says Bald Mick, "That's the King's regulation."
The bell rings again.
"No men in this inn?" says Lady Helena.

((So sorry! Last week was super busy and I fell way far behind on replies!))

"Maybe so," Brenna said softly to Betty. But she wasn't so convinced he was delusional. A dead body downstairs suggested that he might have real cause for concern.

So she slipped past Betty and over to Mr Swathmore. "Who is it that's after you?"

Pint came about to face Dalin and he regarded the other dwarf with quiet contemplation. Pint had learned long ago not to jump to conclusions too quickly, and this included assuming that someone was racist towards his kind the stout folk. While it was possible that the Lieutenant had such prejudice, it seemed a little too simple of a reason for him to believe that it was Dailin that did it.

"Dinnae.." Pint said at last, "I think the lad is just naive." Peter did strike him as being kind of young by the way he was able to intimidate him.

One thing Pint had to admit though was that, naive or not, Peter's guess was probably as good as his in regards of who had committed the murder. Pint was right confused right now, and as he had told the Lieutenant, the only cases he cracks are skulls with his axe.

"Hm? Where's Brenna?" He asked suddenly as he had a look around, being remiss to have his charge be off his gaze for too long.

Then the bell rang as he pondered that and he rolled his eyes, particularly at Lady Helena questioning everyone's bravery as usual. "I'll go with ye, Mick."

One thing was true, with Orcs out in the dark one couldn't be too careful. He stepped to the side of the door and let Mick answer, but if someone tried to break through they'd have to answer to his Urgrosh.

"THEY are after me" says Mr Swathmore to Brenna, "I don't know who they are, but they have fingers everywhere. It's a conspiracy to destroy me. They must have infiltrated this inn, and killed Baring. I can't believe that Baring is dead."
"The murderer might strike again" says Betty, "Do you want to come back to the tap room, where at least you'll be with the others?"

"Brenna's upstairs" says Caitlin, "she's checking out that mysterious gentleman, Mr Swathmore. Do you think he could have had anything to do with it?"

Pint follows Bald Mick and the dogs to the door. There's a pool of light of the sort Pint hasn't seen before shining through the gate. He's used to the flickering light of lanterns and of torches. This light is white, and cold, and constant, like the Sun in the far North.
Bald Mick opens the gate, and there's a mounted figure. The light emanates from a staff he is carrying. glowing wondrously.
"I'm Father Geoffrey" he says, "Sorry to come so late, but I was a little delayed. I'm to marry Henry Fitzroy and the Lady Helena, when she gets to Great Whiteminister. There are orcs about on the road, you know. They shot arrows at me. Fortunately I galloped off too fast for them to catch me."
"Samuel will see to your horse" says Bald Mick.
"We need to do something about those orcs." says Fr Geoffrey, "Maybe get the regiment out from Fort Middlesburg to hunt them down. But we can't get a message there."

Maybe Betty was right and the man really was delusional. But delusional or not, the murder of Captain Baring was real enough. Who was to say who else's life would be in jeopardy?

"Betty's right..." Brenna urged him. "I know you don't feel well, but it would be safer downstairs. Amongst the others."

As if that would help... she chided herself. Baring had been surrounded by people and that hadn't stopped the killer.

"Tha' bloody hell? There's gonna be a wedding?" Pint blinked and looked very surprised at the appearance of a priest. Then he glanced back at Lady Helena and suddenly remembered what was she going on about for nearly the whole night. "Oh right, now I remember."

"Well, come on in, Father, take a load off." Pint said, not feeling like being the one to tell Father Geoffrey about the recent murder, he'd let one of the friendly guards actually do their job for once and handle that.

"Say, Father, donna suppose ye saw just how many orcs are out there did ye? And if they're getting closer to the inn perchance?"

"I'll go down" says Mr Swathmore, at last, and heaves himself out of bed. He reaches for a small furry object, and attaches it to his upper lip - his mustache was false. He then puts on his boots, which Brenna notices are very well-made, and his outer tunic, which has a very fine weave, almost hose.

Brenna, Betty, and Mr Swathmore descend the stairs to the common room. Mr Swathmore is just about to sit down when Pint, Bald Mick, and Fr Geoffrey enter. Mr Swathmore and Fr Geoffrey do a sort of double take, the two men appear to recognise each other, then pretend they have not. Or maybe it was a mistaken recognition.

"I was delayed in the road", explains Fr Geoffrey, so I had to come at night. Fortunately we clerics can create light, so I was able to use my staff and enable the horse to see. But that also meant that any orcs could spot me from miles off. They laid in ambush and shot arrows at me. There must have been at least half a dozen of them. I just spurred on my horse and galloped as fast as I could. Fortunately none of them hit - sheer luck - it would have only taken one arrow and it would have been a different story. Anyway, I'm here to see the lady Helena. I'm to conduct her wedding ceremony at Great Whiteminster."

Brenna could not help but take note of how the two men reacted to each other, but she made no mention of it, uncertain how it fit... if at all ... into the murder of Captain Baring. Since both men had reacted the same way, she did not think it to be a simple mistake. She'd keep an eye on any further interaction between the two men.

Her brow knit in slight worry over the news that the orcs had tried to attack the cleric. If some had attacked here while others attacked the cleric, the woods must be crawling with the creatures. Were they planning something larger?

Were the half-orcs in here earlier in on this too?

No answers, just questions...

((Where is Baring's body now? Is it still in the common room?))

Brenna notices that Fr Geoffrey and Mr Swathmore seem to be avoiding eye contact with each other. It's very subtle. Fr Geoffrey goes over to the bar, and he turns his back on Mr Swathmore where you would have expected him to face him. Mr Swathmore is looking quietly down into his drink.

Baring's body has been taken to his room and (you hear) laid on his bed. You haven't actually verified that, but there seems no reason to disbelieve the soldiers when they say those were Lieutenant Peter's orders.

"The road has been clear of orcs until tonight" says Bald Mick, "we haven't had any trouble for many months. You were lucky not to be killed."
"We clerics have ways of protecting ourselves" says Fr Geoffrey, "the orcs likely didn't realise who they were dealing with. There was also an element of luck involved, I'll admit. But I'm here to see the Lady Helena. Which one is her?"

The Petulan ambassador bristles at this request.

((Sorry for the delay. I've been on my adventures with Christmas approaching.))

Pint took solace in seeing Brenna again. With all the craziness that was happening in the inn he was worried that someone would try to murder her too. He wasn't exactly sure why he suddenly felt like the woman's bodyguard, but as a fighter he felt it was naturally his duty to take care of his companions. Besides, fighting potential murderers off was literally the only thing he could do in cases like this, his deductive reasoning was mediocre at best, and likely not enough to solve this mystery.

"Unbelievable, there's marauding orcs outside and ye blokes are thinkin' about a wedding??" Pint grumbled. "No wonder them green skins are always preying on ye humans. If this was a proper dwarven stronghold we'd be sallying forth to wipe 'em out!"

He shook his head in disapproval. "Anyways, go ahead and get the ceremony going or wotever. Maybe it'll attract the orcs and we can have us a proper fight."

The dwarf then walked over Brenna to talk off to the side with her. "Wot about ye, lass? Found anything? Or are ye waiting to be a brides maid fer Lady Helena?"

At Fr Geoffrey's question, Brenna caught his eye if she could and then gestured toward Helena. She then cast a quick glance at Mr Swathmore to see if he was still making an extra effort to avoid eye contact.

A hint of an amused smile crept up the corners of Brenna's mouth at Pint's comment, despite her best efforts to keep a straight face. "Didn't you know? That's my master plan to steal away her betrothed," she said, keeping her voice down so that hopefully no one else would overhear. The last thing she needed was someone thinking she was serious about something like that.

"This here is Mr Swathmore..." she told Pint. "Mr Swathmore, this is Pint." Introductions complete, she jumped right into the matter, still unsure if the man was simply paranoid or if his fears were founded.

"He says that whoever killed Baring intends to kill him too..." her tone suggested some uncertainty on her part.

Pint frowned and didn't look very amused at Brenna's joke for some reason, he crossed his arms and said, "Donna even joke 'bout somethin' like that."

But he was eager to get to what was possibly their first real clue in this whole business and he turned to look at Mr Swathmore.

"Aye? Wot makes ye say that, old man?"

Brenna points out Lady Helena to Fr Geoffrey.

"Your ladyship" says Fr Geoffrey, "I'm Father Geoffrey, the priest who is to conduct your wedding to Henry Fitzroy. May I just have a brief word with you, in private?"
"No, that won't be possible Father" says the Petulan ambassador, "whilst I am travelling with Lady Helena, I am in loco parentis. She doesn't speak to anyone without me present."
Lady Helena scowls.
"But a priest, surely" says Caitlin, "what if he wants to hear her confession?"
Macey is suddenly all ears.
"Caitlin" he says softly, "Did Lady Helena tell you of any impediment to her marriage?"

Meanwhile Pint and Brenna are talking to Mr Swathmore.
"I think the murderer's real target is me" says Mr Swathmore, "I'm not saying that Baring had no enemies, but with all due respect to him, he's not worth killing. I am. I'm a very high value individual. And Baring was my protection, with him gone, we're all much more vulnerable than we would have been with him alive. Lieutenant Peter can't command the troops."
He sighs. I just feel too old and ill to defend myself. But how do I know who I can trust? Are you one of those dwarves that never tells a lie?"

Brenna, in her efforts to study the deliberate non-interaction between Fr Geoffrey and Mr Swathmore, couldn't help but overhear a little bit of the conversation taking place just behind them.

She might have brushed it off, if not for Mistress Weather's predictions and the idea that Caitlin had stuck in her head about Lady Helena's betrothed. But as it was, she could not help but let her attention drift to Caitlin's response, trying to hear the answer to Macey's softly spoken question...


((Need a roll?))

"Do I look like one of 'em goody goody two shoes to ye?" Pint asked back when Swathmore asked if he was one of the Never Tell A Lie Dwarves.

"Nae, mate. I ain't, and ye can trust me on that. Ye can also trust me on keeping yer arse safe, provided ye can pay me fer me trouble. Wot do ye say, eh? How much gold is yer life worth?" Frankly, he didn't care why people wanted Swathmore dead, Pint was more interested in getting paid, and if this guy had a prize on his head then maybe it was because he had lots of gold to his name.

Brenna strains to overhear Caitlin.

Caitlin says something inaudible to her father, but Brenna notices a little shake of her head.

"I feel I'm stitched up, Father" says Helena.
"Your Ladyship" objects the Petulan ambassador.
There follows a brief exchange in Petulan, which Brenna cannot follow.
"But it's the truth, isn't it?" says Lady Helena, in common.

"I need to talk to er on her own" reiterates Father Geoffrey.

"Look, Father" says Lieutenant Peter, "there's been a murder. You're
obviously not aware. The commander of the garrison, Captain Baring,
has been poisoned."
"Soon solve that" says Father Geoffrey, "get the suspects to swear on
my holy symbol. Where is my holy symbol?" He searches desperately
in his pouches. "Oh no, I must have dropped it in the road. My holy
symbol! I can't do anything without my holy symbol."

Mistress Weather's cat is lying by Brenna's feet. Kitty is at the bar.
Brenna notices that Mr Swathmore doesn't seem to be able to take his
eyes off Kitty.

PInt seems to have won Mr Swathmore's trust.
"How much to get me safely back to Great Whiteminster?" Mr Swathmore
asks Pint. "I don't care how you do it, even by magic. But I want that
barmaid out of danger too. Then what's going on with Lady Helena? Do
you know anything I don't?"
He sighs,
"I suppose I'd better tell you who I really am."

((I haven't figured it out yet! But I'm wondering if that dang cat is a spy!! ))


As much as Brenna wanted to hear what Mr Swathmore was going to tell them, he seemed to take to Pint and she reluctantly moved closer to Father Geoffrey, seeing an opening in that conversation. They could compare notes later...

"Was it close that the orcs attacked, Father?" Brenna asked. "If so, perhaps we could go find it first thing in the morning."

((I'm also suspecting the cat but I don't think Pint would think of something like that))

"For the both of ye?" Said Pint as he mulled over, thinking how hard would it be to transport two people back to shore through an orc infested forest. He was going to go there anyway, and if Brenna wanted to stick around he was looking at at least five people plus himself, no doubt Dain would want to bring Mistress Weather and the cat too. Pint though that he might need to borrow Mug's or someone else's wagon, but it was definitely doable.

"Lets say, 50 gold pieces fer now. Liable to change at my discretion."

He shrugged when Swathmore asked about Lady Helena, truly not knowing anything out of the extraordinary. "I dunno wot's her problem." And he left it at that.

"Oh?" Then, as Swathmore said that he was ready to reveal his identity, Pint seemed a little curious, looking at him over. "Who are ye then?"

"The orcs attacked me close to the Inn" says Father Geoffrey, "maybe half a mile away. Not so close that help could come easily. I might have lost my holy symbol then. Normally I wouldn't travel at night, but I met a halfling in the road, who was suffering from stomach pangs. I used my holy symbol to help heal her, then took her back to Fort Middlesburgh. So I had it then. That was why I was delayed. I needed urgently to speak to the Lady Helena before she arrived at Great Whiteminster, otherwise I wouldn't have risked it."

The clergyman takes his outer cloak off and warms himself by the roaring log fire.

Mr Swathmore gets close to Pint, to speak to him so that the others can't overhear.

"Fifty it is," says Mr Swathmore to Pint. "I'll give you ten now, the balance when we get to Great Whiteminster. I'm not Mr Swathmore. I'm a noble, a very important noble. Baring knew who I was, and Rosalind knows who I am, and Fr Geoffrey knows. The others don't know. So don't tell anyone. In fact I'm King Duncan III".

Mistress Weather's cat pricks up its ears, and runs into the kitchen.