It was the waiting that would drive one made in moments like this, Fenna realized. Wielding her authority alone, as a true Templar for the first time had been surprisingly comfortable and easy, requisitioning the aid of local law enforcement basically by command. The local sheriff, an ornery older dwarf named Nardirsson, had not liked it of course, but he'd had no choice but to comply. So now Fenna laid in wait hidden from view with two officers in one alley, Friya with two more in an alley on the other side of the Charcoal Horn. They'd been here for almost an hour, setting up in the darkness of the wee twilight hours so they'd be ready. The sky was lighting up with the warm hues of dawn now, the sun barely peeking, kissing the horizon to the east.

      Wvota shifted underneath Fenna, snorting and moving her head back and forth as if slightly agitated. Fenna leaned down, whispering in the boar's ear. She was antsy too, Fenna realized with a smirk, and who could blame her. A few more moments passed, but then, finally, the sound of hooves crunching on gravel and wheels creaking as the wagons, one after the other, came around a corner, turning onto the street and pulling up one after the other to the Charcoal Horn. Fredwick came into view in front of the inn, and moved to the front wagon, having a brief conversation with Theodore. Fenna knew the plan, and knew what the halfman was selling, buying a few moments to insure the pair wouldn't be on the wagons when everything kicked off. Once he had moved inside, the dwarf watched, waiting. She was hoping to see Theodore's hands above the railing, for she knew right below it he kept a loaded shard-gun, like any good coachman would. She almost sighed with relief when, as she'd hoped, his pipe habit brought his hands exactly where she wanted them, a couple feet from that dangerous firearm. "By me word, take 'em!" she roared, as she urged Wvota forward, joining in the yells and commands she heard the officers and Friya shouting. "'Ands where we can see 'em, bastards, nary move an inch til yer told! Theodore, on yer feet and slowly move yerself ta the other side o' yer bench, away from that damned shard-gun ye keep, lets go!"

      She heard Friya's voice then, "Tiny nae be daft ye big bastard, nary make me...Tovik il atla krokar!" came the sudden incantation, and Fenna saw Tiny out of her periphery, as he leapt over the railing, trying to use the wagon for cover, only to have the ground below him heave and crack and throw him facedown into the gravel with notable force. One of the officers was on the big man then, manacling his wrists. Friya came into view, the topaz glow around her beautiful and imposing even as it was fading. "I warned yer damn'd fool self, nae ye got yerself a goose egg and a mangled ankle for yer troubles." she snarled at him.

      Theodore bared teeth at Fenna as she dismounted to take stock of him, manacled as he was. She gestured to one of the officers, "Get 'im on 'is feet." she ordered, "T'en 'ead over ta join yer fellows and book them other two. I needs a wee moment wit' t'is one." The two officers shared a glance, but ultimately did exactly as they were bid. Fenna pushed Theodore up against the wagon heavily, insuring it was a notable and stinging impact for his arms and wrists, as well as his back. "Ye 'ave exactly five seconds from when I stop talkin' ta start spillin' yer guts via that tongue o' yers flappin', elsewise I'll be spillin' 'em in a more literal sense." she growled, her right hand on the hilt of the arming sword she wore at her hip. 

      Theodore glared down at her, a clear lack of concern or fear in his face, his lips twisted into an ugly smirk. "Yer a damned fool if'n ye think that title, Templar, will protect ye from Vorgi. That dwarf been making bodies since afore you were born, an' cut his teeth at Blackdale Pass at yer age. He'll kill ye without second thought. I ain't tellin' ye anythin' ye damned holy cunt, so do what ye feel ye must."

      Fenna's blade whispered from its scabbard. "Theodore Landon, I sentence ye ta death for yer crimes an' involvement in moving Void-Stone. May the Ascended 'ave mercy on yer soul, for I have none fer yer flesh." With that, she rammed the blade into his chest, sinking it a good six inches in, and ripped it out savagely. Her aim was good, her strength vicious, cracking clean through the breast bone and piercing his heart, killing the old man near instantly. She cleaned the weapon on his tunic before returning it to its scabbard. She swiftly convened with the local deputies she'd recruited, instructing them to take Gareth and Tiny and process them. "Stick 'em in a cell or holdin' or whatever ye long have here, and keep 'em breathin'. No one sees em until myself an' Friya, ye understand me?"

       "Aye Lancer, we do." one of the officers, a young dwarven man, barely getting his beard in, replied, and soon enough they were off with their prisoners. Fenna and Friya meanwhile, moved into the Charcoal Horn to retrieve Fredwick and Tuli.

       Soon enough, with Tuli's guidance, they had the six false bricks out from amongst the real ones, and with her help, they carefully drenched the contents with holy oil, before Fenna, being a dwarf and just naturally resistant to all magick to some degree anyway, took the risk of carefully opening their tops and using a lamp striker to ignite their contents. After an hour of this careful work, done out of sight in an alleyway, they had the containers empty and lacking any sign of their once foul contents. Fenna bagged them in one of the larger pouches of Wvota's saddlebags, after all they might prove useful later when they encountered more of the foul substance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Tuli sat at the corner table of the Charcoal Horn with Fredwick, Friya and Fenna, still processing the morning's events. Theodore was dead, stabbed cleanly through the chest by Fenna when he'd refused to talk or confess. Gareth and Tiny were in custody, being held for now by local law enforcement. The Void-Dust they'd been smuggling had been drenched in holy oil and burned in the very boxes she had made to carry the stuff. Fenna had handled the task, her natural dwarven hardiness against the arcane helpful with such a task. Fredwick and Tuli had then waited here for about two hours, as Fenna and Friya had gone to interrogate Tiny and Gareth. The pair had only just returned from that task but a half an hour ago. According to them, Gareth and Tiny had been much more forthcoming, and Gareth had even survived one of the previous goblin attacks, he'd been a driver and had managed to escape with his life. Fenna had left the pair in the hands of Sheriff Nardirsson and his officers and returned here to share what they'd learned. Now they were all sitting together, nursing pints of amber, no one speaking at first.

      Eventually it was Fredwick that broke the silence. "Well, it would perhaps seem a silly question, but what's next on the agenda?" he inquired. "It would seem some quirk of fate has brought us together. This poor woman is far from free at this time, given what she's told us of the entire situation. To me it sounds like the Vorgi, and their leader, this Kurik Vorgi, would be a reasonable next step. Have him taken into custody, or perhaps have an 'accident' similar to old Theodore's."

      Friya responded first, having been thinking about the issue deeply for quite some time. "Tuli nae be safe, but the danger is less than ye may expect." she explained. "Takin' a bit o' 'er hair will in theory let 'im 'ave 'er found an' tracked, located as such. But nae magicks can be targeted and imbued on ta someone from such a distance, nae even anythin' any apostate would do. I'd explain it all ta ye, but I'd assume nae one 'ere be wantin' ta sit through a four hour lecture on t'e finer aspects o' 'ow magick works. All ye need ta nae in this circumstance is that t'e further away a magister is tryin' ta muster up some sort o' effect or spell-form upon a target, t'e more risky it gets cause the more manna ye need ta take into yerself. Ta do someone in from the sort of range we talkin' about would kill the mage afore they completed the spell-weave. Scryin' be the unique exception ta this, cause very technically when usin' them sorts of spells, yer more targetin' yerself, primarily, ta give yerself visions or the like."

      Fenna spoke up now, looking directly at Tuli. "All t'at said, lass, we nae goin' ta abandon ye ta deal wit' this all yerself. 'Owever meself and Friya intends a wee bit of a dangerous road, so we'll understand if'n ye'd rather take yer chances. Ye see, knowin' nae what was on them wagons, an' what Gareth told us about the goblin attack he survived, we feels we should see if'n we can't discover the remains o' 'em other wagons out along the Byway somewheres, in case some of that damned powder still be present. If it is, we should destroy it as we did t'is batch. Such a thing would be dangerous business, wit' t'em damned Bonerattler goblins wanderin' about causing trouble, though they be 'nother reason we intends ta go out there. Nary ta fight 'em, we just two people, we'd like to avoid that if we can. But ta at least pinpoint 'em, so we can take t'at information ta one of the nearby garrisons, and help see the issue o' 'em resolved proper. Even better if'n we could find the tribe's warren, but t'at may be ta tall an ask. Once we've done t'at, our plan be ta head back to Vorgistal an' see Kurik in chains."

      Tuli's stomach twisted, her mind in knots. She hated the idea, yet she could not bring herself to simply walk away now. She was no fighter, it was true, but she wasn't a bad shot. However more importantly for this pair, she was a damned good doctor and pharmacist. If they truly intended to risk further confrontations with the greenskins, to seek out the other lost wagons and to the best of their ability, destroy any other Void-stone or Void-Dust they came upon, they'd likely find themselves needing the help of someone with her skills and abilities. She also couldn't shake a deep seated sense of loathing, feeling at least partially responsible for the issues at hand. "I'll travel with the two of you. You shouldn't be out their alone, and certainly not without someone with some degree of medicinal skills. I know how to keep myself safe and I'm not a bad shot with my pistol."

      Fredwick interjected here as well. "I'm not much of a fighter, but I'm a fast learner, a damned good negotiator and I speak more languages than you can shake a stick at. Have a talent for linguistics. I can even speak goblin, well at least a little bit. Need a bit more exposure and some more practice to really master it, but I can muddle my way through decently well." The halfman chuckled after quaffing the rest of his ale. "Besides, I'm a story-teller as well as a musician, and as such I wouldn't miss this for the world. So the pair of you are stuck with me! So what's the plan from here?"

      Fenna glanced at Friya, whom simply shrugged, not really sure what to say. The pair were clear in their intentions. Tuli's logic was sound, even if the pair didn't wish to admit it, because they weren't confident in their ability to keep her safe should they end up in another fight with goblins. Friya also knew Fredwick brought more to the table than the halfman let on. Though neither mage or apostate, she'd felt the magick he did possess, felt its ripples in the Aether. He likely didn't know it about himself, but he was a Primal Voice, someone who's performative talents were touched by manna, by the forces of creation itself, and seemed able to exert subtle ripples and effects upon the world around him. It was a strange and esoteric thing, a remnant of times before the Sundering, the only real Pre-Sundering magick of any kind to survive to this day. This meant of course that Fredwick would be more helpful than he was likely aware of. Fenna was aware of this too, having had it explained to her after Tuli and Fredwick's visit the previous night. So begrudgingly the dwarf raised her ale, draining the last of the mug. "Right, well we nae gonna stop the pair o' ye, nae point in that. Ye feels a sense of responsibility fer this," Fenna stated, looking at Tuli, "And clearly yer nae lettin' it go. Foolhardy, but I will admit, I admire ye fer takin' t'e stance, it shows good moral character lass. As ta yerself, me friend 'ere thinks there is more ta ye than it would first seem, an' I've learned ta trust 'er judgement."

      Fredwick clapped his hands together with a smile. "A magister, a templar, a travelling minstrel and a downtrodden doctor sharing drinks and speaking of fighting goblins, purging Void-dust and bringing a criminal leader of sorts to heel to face justice. Sounds like the beginning of some sort of foolhardy bard's tale that I look forward to penning one day!" He leaned in then, a grin on his face. "So what's the plan then, and when do we leave?"