Tybour watched as his team approached the ship called the Dutchess' Teat. Just the misspelled name he'd expect from The Arrangement and the Church. Haningway, his second in command, was speaking to, well, arguing with, a rough looking man blocking the gangway onto the deck of the ship.

"You are in our port and we demand access to your holds to inspect what you have taken aboard." Haningway's voice was calm but pitched to carry.  A few sailors on the deck stopped what they were doing and began to pay attention to the first mate and who he was arguing with. 

Tybour strode up the gangway to stand next to Haningway.

"You've no right or author'ty t' board this vessel!  She's tha property and under the sov'rent o' The Church and The 'Rangement o' Peace!"  The man's voice was raised and his face was beginning to turn red.  Tybour could see the signs of stress that indicated he was lying, but about what was the real question.

Suddenly Tybour was aware of the subtle odor of sour cream and onions mixed with a light smell of evergreens.  He glanced around looking to the Wizards on his team for evidence someone was casting an eavesdropping spell. None were. So where was the smell coming from?

"We have reason to believe you have received illegal cargo here at this port.  We only request a look at your hold to ensure you have taken on no illegal cargo," said Haningway calmly. Tybour focused his attention on locating the source of the smell and the magic.  The taste of it was stronger now at the top of the gangway. Someone on board the ship, below decks apparently. Not the smell of Warlock magic.

A tall man with a dark three-point hat emerged from the door to what Tybour assumed to be the captain's quarters. "First Mate Thompsiat, what's going on?" This man's accent marked him as educated and at least somewhat sophisticated. Tybour caught the tone of threat aimed at the first mate.  This was not a man who put up with any failure from his crew.

"These soldiers wanna come a'board an' check our cargo, Cap'in." The first mate sounded certain his captain would back him up in his refusal to allow them on board.

"By all means then, let them.  We haven't anything to hide now, do we?" A thinly veiled threat that Tybour was certain indicated that if anything were found, the first mate would likely pay the price. "Good sirs, welcome aboard!  What would you be looking for and how can I help?"

"My apologies, Captain...?" Tybour paused, waiting for the man to give his name.

"Talisan," answered the Captain quietly, directly toward the handsome young man in the shiny armor and white cloak.

"Talisan. Yes. My apologies for the slight deception. We are representatives from the Malminar Wizard's Guild and we are here looking for a Warlock brought to our shores on your ship." Tybour paused, watching the effect of his words on the captain and the gathering crew. Surprise, shock, no indication that anyone here was aware of the Warlock in their midst.

The smell and taste of magic in the air changed slightly, a pinch of cinnamon and some citrus added to the previous taste and smell. Not a spell Tybour was familiar with, but perhaps it was just a touch of alarm flavoring the spell.  Tybour could tell it was coming from the deck below, through the door to the fo'c'sle.

The taste and smell of the eavesdropping spell suddenly disappeared and was abruptly replaced with the smell of cow manure and rotting vegetation, the taste in Tybour's mouth went sour like bad milk and burnt hair. The smell of brimstone and sulfur was quickly added to the noxious smells and bad tastes.

Tybour pushed his way past guards, priests, and his own soldiers to the door to the decks below. A bright white bolt of magic force from his hand blasted the door into pieces and he rushed down the short set of steps into the room below.  The smell of brimstone, sulfur, and ash mixed with sweat and unwashed bodies washed out the smell of vanilla and the taste of peppers from his force bolt. Tybour took in the scene in an instant and fired off another bolt, slightly modified, to seal the Demon Pit before turning his attention to the Warlock across the room. Smells and tastes came too fast now to distinguish one from the next as Tybour and several of the Wizards on his team fired spell after spell toward the disfigured Warlock across the room. The spells hit the protective magic shield in front of the Warlock and terminated.

A binding spell held a young boy at the Warlocks feet. Tybour moved quickly toward the Warlock when suddenly a large section of the deck from overhead ripped free and slammed between him and the Warlock. Tybour made short work of the makeshift wall, magically tearing it in half and removing it, sending the pieces flying into the harbor in a high arc above the upper deck.

The one armed Warlock was quite strong, magic surged from him in every direction, Tybour watched as several of his men were flung against posts and the hull with great force. One young soldier hit a post with enough force to crack the post and cause it to bend at a slight angle. 

An oddly dark bolt of what appeared to be black lightning struck one of the sailors attempting to scramble out of the way, ripping away an arm and scorching the man's side, blackening flesh and muscle.

The Warlock had the boy's arm in the grip of his right hand, dragging him toward a dark, spinning portal in the hull of the ship. Tybour reacted without thinking and sent a bolt of white hot energy ripping through the magic shield placed by the Warlock. The powerful bolt of magic went surging through the Warlock's chest and exploded against the hull causing it to explode outward, opening the dark room to more of the bright sun outside. Too late Tybour saw the boy propelled through the portal to whatever lay beyond, the opening already closing at the death of the Warlock who opened it. The boy passed through, but the portal closed on the Warlock, leaving half of his body here and the other half on the other side, far away.

Everything seemed to go silent all at once for several long moments.  Sound came rushing back, groans of the wounded and suddenly shouted orders as Tybour's team recovered quickly.  Sailors and priests were rounded up, most in shock, and marched on to the dock away from the ship.  The practiced team moved swiftly to see to the wounded and move those less affected by the recent events away from the scene. Several dead sailors lay about,  still chained to the deck or supports in the room that used to be below decks.  A couple dead sailors floated in the water on the port side of the now heavily damaged ship.  Tybour moved to the half of the Warlock left behind, carefully stepping through the pool of slick blood surrounding the partial body. Haningway step up next to him. 

"Take these remains to the keep. Put it in storage until we can take a better look." Haningway issued orders to a couple of younger Malminar soldiers who began preparing the body for transport. "Do we know where that portal went?"

"No," answered Haningway. "I'll put the word out and see if we can locate the destination, but you know it's near impossible to track a Warlock portal and I didn't have time to put a track on that boy, or the Warlock.  Not entirely sure that would have even worked now that he's kinda split in two."

"I know," responded Tybour. "Let's get the word out and see if anyone saw anything.  What's the max distance he could have gone, 20 or 30 miles you think?"

"I would say 20.  Didn't seem that Warlock had a lot of time or a lot of spare attention to manage more than that, but I can't rule out the possibility it was further." Haningway was always pragmatic and truthful with proffered opinions. 

"Let's say 30 then. Let's also start a search for that boy. He seemed important and I want to know why.  I also think that boy was casting an eavesdropping spell when we came aboard. Not sure why, maybe just curious, I don't know, but I want to know and I want some answers." Tybour was more than a little miffed about a Warlock being able to get this close to the city without alarms going off. The perimeter should have detected any Warlock well before a ship he was on docked, and yet the warning came almost an hour after this ship docked. This would need to be looked into.

Tybour's attention returned to the present and he moved to one of the injured and chained bodies being attended to by one of his team. This was really just a boy, not more than 10 or 12 turns. The young Wizard working on the shackled  boy looked up as Tybour approached. "Sir, I'm having trouble healing his internal injuries.  I repaired his broken ribs, arm and leg, but he has some internal injuries I have not been able to repair."

Tybour knelt next to the boy and reached out to touch him gently, probing with a thin bit of magic into his body to find the damage. There, a heavily damaged gallbladder and a length of intestine crushed by the tentacle that had grabbed him.  Tybour manipulated the magic and repaired the intestine. The gallbladder would have to be removed, so Tybour disintegrated it gently, sealing off the veins and arteries once it was gone. The boy's breathing eased immediately.  Tybour applied a simple sleep spell and watched the boys face relax.

Tybour placed a hand on the shoulder of the worried Wizard at his side. "You did good Rex. Those kinds of injuries take practice to heal. Go see if you are needed elsewhere." Rex nodded, swallowing hard. He stood and moved off to see if he could be of use somewhere else.

Tybour concentrated for a moment and released the shackles from the now sleeping boys leg. The smell and taste of the spell contrasted with the smell of dirty, sweaty bodies and human refuse still lingering in the now very open sleeping quarters of the conscripted members of this ship's crew. The salty sea air was helping, but not enough.

Two young soldiers in red linen, a stretcher between them, stepped up on the other side of the boy. They placed the stretcher on the ground and began moving the kid to it. "Be gentle," said Tybour. "Take him directly to the Healing Center at Waystone.  I'll be along to talk to him when he is awake.  I want to know his story. Don't tell the crew of this ship and don't let them see you leave.  I want him separate from them until I can speak with him."

"Yes, sir."

Tybour moved around the room, helping where needed, encouraging his team, comforting some when they couldn't save an injured sailor. He watched for a few moments as three of his team carefully bagged up the half a Warlock and removed it. When the activity began to draw to a close, he took the steps back up to the deck, breathing in the clean salt air. Haningway approached from aft of the ship and jutted his chin toward the starboard side and down toward the dock.

The sounds of a commotion came from below on the dock as Tybour and Haningway made their way to the gangway to disembark. A tall man in officious looking robes was arguing with the guards attempting to manage the group of surviving sailors. Captain Talisan stood near The Church of Peace priest, watching patiently but not becoming involved. The shifty first mate also stood near the agitated priest, occasionally adding his voice to the arguments the priest was making. The tall read-headed guard stood her ground and calmly told the angry priest that he would have to wait until the First Mage came to talk to him before anything could be done and that no one was allowed back on the ship until the First Mage or his second said so. This appeared to make the priest even angrier, but even in such a state he was smart enough to not physically assault the guards.

Captain Talisan placed a firm hand on the priest shoulder and spoke quietly to him. He turned his face up toward where Tybour and Haningway descended the gangway and the priest's gaze followed. 

Tybour approached the group, scanning the faces, some scared, some resigned. "You're in charge here?" the priest asked incredulously. "You seem much too young to be in charge." His tone changed smoothly from scathing incredulity to honey sweet. "That must mean you are very competent. A great accomplishment for someone appearing to be so young." The priest's tone was calculated, the emphasis on appearing, meant to be disarming and flattering while making it clear that the priest was much more mature and should be respected as an elder.  The smell of honeysuckle and fragrant roses gave away the spell to Tybour. Tybour guessed that this spell was much practiced and used by this priest. He was strong in the magic, a Wizard in all but name as the Church believed magic was reserved only for the Gods, unless used by the clergy in the name of their Church, or course.  Tybour was quite sure the priest didn't think of what he was doing as magic, but more as him channeling the will of the Gods. These Church of Peace priests were almost always fanatical.

Tybour was certain the priest was under no illusion that the charm was having any effect on him, but perhaps the use of this charm had become second nature from overuse. Tybour raised one eyebrow at the priest. "Thank you, I think.  I do try." His kept contempt out of his voice as best he could but spoke in such a way it should be obvious to the priest that the charm had no effect. "Is there something I might help you with, as the person in charge here?" Tybour smiled his most charming smile.

"Yes.  You can put me, and my men," Captain Talisan stiffened ever so slightly at this, "back on our ship. We also demand to know why our ship was damaged by you and your men." He carefully avoided looking at the female soldier standing there in front of him. "We will expect compensation, and repair at your dry docks so we can set sail as soon as possible for home." Tybour could tell the priest was quite sure he would be listened to, and obeyed. "I understand you are telling my men there was a Warlock on board our ship," he was careful to say 'our ship' after noticing the Captain's small reaction to 'my men', "but that cannot be," the priest's voice rose in volume. "There is no way my priests and I would have not noticed a Warlock aboard for five weeks. Or maybe the Warlock snuck on board from here once we docked? You can't be sure this supposed Warlock came with us. Do you believe us to be in league with Warlocks and Demons? The Church of Peace would never allow such a thing! This story of a Warlock on board our vessel is preposterous! Do you have proof?  Do you have the supposed Warlock or any proof at all that what you say is true?!" 

The priest's agitation was growing and it appeared to be spreading to the crew behind him. Several of Tybour's soldiers stopped pretending to be lounging nearby and moved closer to the gathered group of Arrangement sailors.

"Good sir, I am not accusing you or your crew," Tybour glanced at Captain Talisan, "of anything." Before Tybour could continue the priest drew himself up to his tallest, still a couple of inches shorter than Tybour, lifting his chin in an attempt to look down at Tybour. "I know how you lot here in Malminar," his voice practically dripped vitriol, "feel about The Church and the Arrangement! You are Godless brutes who cavort with animals and practically invite the Demons to come and feast upon our flesh and souls! Do you even want the Gods to return?! They would as soon smite you all as look at you and your sinful ways!" The priest's voice rose above the harbor sounds drawing curious looks from a multitude of sailors and tradesmen and women along the docks. Most of the conscripts in the ship's crew stared down at their feet, some falling to their knees and clutching themselves in genuine fear. Even Captain Talisan made the three-fingered sign over his heart to ward off evil.

"I am not sure what game you are playing at young man, but I am a representative of The Arrangement of Peace and a high-ranking member of The Church of Peace! I am not some soft-headed Seliorian noble raised on pinecones and sloth milk! Your talk of a Warlocks is a lie so you can take over our vessel, abscond with our cargo, and secret away our good Gods fearing men for your own nefarious purposes! I know what you do with strangers to your country!" the priest shouted, face growing red and spittle flying from his lips. His tirade was drawing more attention from the docks nearby and a crowd had begun to assemble up on the quay.

Tybour was careful not to let this man provoke him, but he hadn't wanted to slap a man this much for several months. It was easy to see the priest was used to getting his way.  In his home country, disobeying a priest could cost you your life, so easy to see there, but this man was in a foreign country where his Church and his government held no sway, and still he seemed to expect his word to be unquestionably obeyed. Tybour was certain the man fully believed there was no way he would have missed a Warlock on board his ship. That deepened the question about just how the Warlock had managed to escape the notice of all five priests on board and managed to get past the markers around Malminar's borders all the way to the docks. Troubling for sure. He drew his attention back to the priest in front of him. "Good sir... What was your name again? I am Tybour Insuritor, First Mage of the Realm." Tybour accompanied his speaking with a subtle charm, the smells of honeysuckle and rose and the taste of honeydew melon wafting around his head. It was unlikely the priest had the talent to smell another's casting.

The wind seemed to go out of the priest's sails a bit. "Cardow Suffé, Charge Priest, First Level," he stammered a bit, voice much quieter than before.  His face remained red and his stance was that of someone determined to not give an inch. He appeared to grab onto the idea that this was a moment he could use and proceeded to add his titles. "Godly Priest of the Inner Circle and Shepard of the Lost, Emissary of Gods and Church." The smile on his face was not a friendly one.

"Ah.  Your Holiness Suffé, Emissary of Church," Tybour intentionally left out the Gods part. "I can assure you that a Warlock was indeed aboard your ship. I can't tell you how, or why, yet.  He did seem to have some sort of haze that kept those around him from seeing his true nature. Regardless of that, I do apologize for the damage to your ship, and I assure you we will fix it at no cost to you or yours. Once your ship is repaired and ocean worthy again, you and all your sailors may take your leave, we will not retain you against your will, but you must understand that we cannot, in good conscience let you leave here in a ship that damaged."

As if on cue the ship made a loud groaning noise followed by a great cracking as the forward mast broke near its base and toppled sideways into the water. The faint smell of pine sap and ozone drifted away from Tybour. He glanced toward Haningway who shook his head. No one hurt in the mast's fall then.  Good. "Let's get you and your crew away from here and to a place you can heal and rest and not be bothered by onlookers and curiosity seekers.  We have just such a facility not far from here, with appropriate lodging for you and the captain. Baths to get cleaned up. Good food, all paid for by His Royal Highness, King Malminar. You'll have no need to interact with anyone besides me and my men, and the staff."

As Tybour expected, the promise of isolation genuinely appealed to the priest. He could practically see the thoughts flying behind his eyes. "All of the crew will need to be isolated from your population. We have a certain standard we must maintain and temptation from Godless users of magic cannot be tolerated!" Suffé saw this as a chance to show the gathered crew that he was getting his way and that he hadn't lost an inch to this young heathen. "Only my priests and the officers of the crew will deal with you, your men, or the staff. No magic will be used in their presence, or mine."

"As you say your Holiness," Tybour nodded his head in feigned deference. "We will do all we can to make you comfortable and get you on your way again as soon as possible," that part was indeed the truth.

"About that Warlock, perhaps you can clear up the question of his coming with you or sneaking aboard here in port? He was tall man, wild hair with a burn scar on the left side of his face. His left arm was missing above the elbow. Does he sound familiar to you?"

"Tall.. No. I don't remember. There was a cripple with one arm. Hunchback, dimwitted.  I think he did have a burn scar on the left side of his face." The priest seemed to remember something suddenly. "It couldn't have been Plug, he was an unpleasant, smelly man, but I found no indication he was a Warlock and he's been a part of the crew for...," he turned to the Captain, "how long did you say?"

"Two months before you were assigned, your Holiness."

"Plug. Thank you, both." Tybour nodded to the captain. "Lieutenant, please get a full description and details from the good Captain about this man Plug."

Tybour gestured to Haningway. "See that these gentlemen," he gestured toward the collection of sailors and conscripts gathered in the sorry group on the dock, "all get to the Kings barracks at Barret Street. Get some covered wagons to take them so they don't attract undue attention. Block off the street and send any soldiers staying there to another barracks. Let's do this quickly so we can properly accommodate our honored guests. Notify Norft to reduce his staff to only what is necessary and put Emissary Suffé in my suite. Provide like accommodations to the Captain and the his officers." Tybour was sure to speak so Suffé could hear him. A little ego stroking would go a long way with this one. 

"What about our cargo, young Tybour?" the priest asked, leaving off any honorific and including young once again to emphasize his own importance over Tybour's. His tone of address drew immediate looks of ire from several of the Malminar Wizards and soldiers close enough to hear.

"Yes, of course your Holiness. We will locate your manifest from Malminar and ensure it is all present and accounted for.  If you desire, your captain or members of your crew can be present to ensure everything is accounted for and that all is in order. If you provide a manifest for anything in your hold not brought aboard here in Retinor, we will inventory it all and provide compensation for anything damaged or destroyed in the struggle with the Warlock."

Captain Talisan stepped forward and began to speak at the same instant as the first mate. The captain placed the edge of his hand against the first mates chest in a chopping motion, stopping him from saying anything. "Let me check our hold and inventory, and if there is an issue, I will inform you and you, or one of your men, can inspect the damage to verify. Some of our cargo is specific to trade with our Merion allies and it would not be in our countries' best interests for outsiders to be privy to. I am sure you understand the intricacies of international relations." Captain Talisan's smile was easy, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Emissary Suffé stiffened visibly and then relaxed.

As Tybour thought, cargo the priest and the captain didn't want to have to explain. Contraband? Something illegal procured here in Retinor? It didn't matter at the moment. He'd let them keep their secrets for now. Maybe it really was something as simple as trade with Merions. It was better to smooth things over for now and take care of any cargo issues later. And he would expose those secrets later. He didn't trust these men, especially not the first mate, he had the look and mannerisms of someone very experienced with illegalities. 

"Very well, that is acceptable Captain," said Tybour. "We'll have you comfortably settled in no time and I promise on my station as First Mage that we will expedite the repairs to your ship as much as we can. Perhaps Captain, you would feel more at ease were you to provide a small contingent of your most trusted officers to accompany the ship to the ship yards to supervise the repairs and ensure your cargo is kept secure? We have accommodations at the ship yards for a few of your men should you wish it. Major Haningway will work out the details with you and ensure the accommodations are made." Tybour waved Haningway over and left the details to them.

"Emissary Suffé," Tybour gestured to the priest, inviting him to join him a good bit away from the rest of the men on the dock, "I would like to assign my assistant to you for the duration of your stay here, if you will have him. He can ensure you get anything you need as well as get you transportation to and from the shipyards to see your ship and can arrange for just about anything else you may need. He will know how to contact me if you need me and will do for you as he does for me." At Tybour's gesture a dark-haired young man in white linen and shiny armor hurried to his side. "This is Balte. He is quiet, discreet and highly capable. He can accompany you to where you will be staying and get you settled."

The priest looked the young man up and down. "Yes. Alright then. I expect to have access to my ship when I need it and expect to have the men undisturbed and unbothered by this mess. I also expect to have this cleared up quickly. It will not do to have working men sitting idle for too long. Idle men are a Demon's playground."

Tybour's men worked quickly and efficiently and only a short time passed before the covered wagons pulled up to the street at the top of the docks. That street had already been cleared of onlookers and traffic blocked. The adjoining docks had also been cleared and curious sailors and dockhands sent about their business. The dock master had a number of shipyard crew on hand and preparations were being made to move the Dutchess' Teat from here to the shipyards for repairs. Lines were already attached to the ship from harbor boats to stabilize and tug the big ship out of its berth and over to where it would be repaired.

Arrangements were made to transport the 6 deceased sailors to the nearest morgue until burial services could be arranged with the Captain and Emissary Suffé.

There had been only minor injuries among the soldiers and Wizards of Phoenix Company, the group Tybour led directly. Most due to flying shrapnel and a couple of confused and over-zealous sailors thinking they needed to defend their ship. All injuries were easily healed. The company wrapped up the scene and watched the ship towed away from the dock before heading back to the barracks on the castle grounds. Tybour and Haningway walked through the city to the Healing Center at Waystone.

The young boy and three other sailors from the Dutchess' Teat had been brought here in secret. The boy and two of the sailors were still unconscious from their ordeals, the third sailor was being held in a secure room with two guards to ensure he caused no more trouble. This sailor had fought Tybour's soldiers the hardest and once captured it became clear why. This man carried three tattoo marks of a former prisoner of Malminar as well as a banishment tattoo indicating he was not welcome back in the Kingdom.

Tybour spoke quietly to the Wizard in charge, a pleasant woman of middle age, competent and kind. She informed Tybour that the boy was in good shape and would likely be awake soon. He'd be sore for the next few days, but nothing dangerous. Tybour thanked her and joined Haningway at the door to the secured room.

When Tybour and Haningway entered the room, the tall older man across the room stood from his squat against the far wall.  His ankles and wrists were bound by shackles infused with magic, keeping the man from accessing magic himself. The minor wounds he'd taken fighting soldiers of Tybour's Phoenix Company had been healed but his clothes were tattered and torn from the fight. Despite being a human well into his sixtieth turn, the man was wiry and strong.  

"You stabbed three of my best swordsmen today Ueet. Any particular reason you'd want to do that?" Tybour scowled at the man and Ueet smiled back, and easy and amused smile that didn't quite reach his steel-gray eyes.

"To be fair," his voice was smooth and thick, a deceptively pleasant baritone, "they were attempting to stab me too." Ueet leaned back against the wall casually. "Look, its not like I killed any of them. In fact, I did my best to not kill any of them.  I certainly could have, you know."

Tybour waved his hand casually and a smell like mint and lemon spread through the room replacing the smell of blood and soap. The taste of orange, lemon and watermelon flooded Tybour's mouth for just a moment. The shackles fell away from Ueet's wrists and ankles.

"A couple of those kids have pretty good potential, none as good as you, mind, but not bad.  You must have found a good weapons master to replace me finally.  Scotsal? Bainbrage? Either of those boot licks would have jumped at the chance to take my job."

Tybour gestured subtly when he felt Haningway stiffen at the names. Haningway stayed back near the door as Tybour stepped further into the room. Tybour could feel Haningway's animosity toward the old man across the room from them.

"Why did you come back Ueet? Your face is too well known for you to think you could just walk back into Malminar without someone reporting you. Did you expect to just disappear into the country side?" Tybour knew this was not a man who did much of anything without a plan. Why was he back in Retinor after less than a year banished?

"Not really my choice. I got to The Arrangement and was finding it a bit difficult for a non-believer to make a decent living, so thought I would try my hand as a sailor." 

Tybour raised one eyebrow at the old man.

"Ok," Ueet said after a moment where he and Tybour exchanged looks, "it was a good way to get out of The Arrangement and over to Dragor Island. You know going through Kenitt isn't a thing I could do easily and I wasn't about to go north through the ice fields. Playing sailor on a ship bound for Dragor seemed an easy thing and I wasn't expecting to be found here in the Retinor harbor. Bad piece of luck there with a Warlock. Figures I would sign on to the one ship hiding a Warlock." The last bit was as much to himself as to Tybour.

"Why didn't you just go home, Ueet? You could be there now with your kin, living out the rest of your life." Tybour knew the answer, and Ueet knew he knew. The feud between Ueet and his own brother could only be ended by Ueet swearing fealty to his brother, the Chief of the Qoitiken tribe, and Ueet's pride would not permit that. A younger brother becoming Chief while and older brother lived was shameful as far as Ueet was concerned, and shame was a very serious thing to a warrior of the Qoitiken tribe.

"Regardless of the reason, you broke the banishment and must pay the price." Haningway spoke from near the door. "The King granted you mercy many felt you didn't deserve and now he'll have no choice but to put you away for good."

'The law is the law, this is true,' thought Tybour, 'the King really will have no choice this time.' 

"Sorry, Ueet. Haningway is right. I hate to see you rot in prison but that looks like where you'll be going. Regardless of how I, or the King may feel about it, or you."

Ueet commanded a lot of respect for years of exemplary service to the crown but his personal code created an impossible position for King and country.

"I'll visit, and I will see you get the best accomodations available." Tybour smiled a weary smile. "Maybe we can arrange a sparring match while you languish in your plush retirement digs."

"Hmmm... That'll be fine. I expect you've grown soft and gotten well out of practice since I've been gone. You never were much motivated to practice as much as you should." With lightning fast movement the old man launched himself from the wall, scooped up the heavy steel shackles from the floor and flung them across the room, one set at Tybour and the other at Haningway. He rushed low and fast toward Tybour, aiming for his legs to wrap him up and take him down. The sound of steel against steel rang out as Tybour batted the shackles away from himself and into the wall to his right, at the same time jumping over the low charging Ueet, grabbing the man's left shoulder and pulling him against his own chest, placing the edge of his sword against the man's throat. All three men froze in place, Haningway's sword tip just touching the exposed abdomen of the old man now held by Tybour.

"Whoa! Ok!" Ueet shouted, hands up and out. The sound of the leg shackles settling around the hilt of Haningway's sword acted like a punctuation to Ueet's exclamation. "Maybe soft was the wrong word.  Good to see you both have not forgotten everything I taught you." The dagger the old man had pulled from Tybour's belt stuck hilt up in the hardwood floor between his feet.

"Promise me you will do the right thing and go to your cell without killing anyone." Tybour relaxed his grip on Ueet.

"I will. Only because you ask." Ueet stepped away from the two men, Haningway's sword still pointed at him. "I missed you Ty. Disappointing you was my biggest regret. I won't resist. Will the old man be the one to pass judgement?"

Tybout gestured to Haningway indicating he should go fetch the guards outside and Haningway exited the room only to return a minute later with both guards. Tybour replaced the shackles on Ueet and clapped him on the back before he was led away by the guards.

"Let's go see that kid from the ship, I want to hear his story. We need to find out how that Warlock got all the way to the docks before the border magic alerted us. Maybe this kid can tell us something that will help us find out what's going on."