It was later than intended when the wagons finally arrived at Spruce Point. The sky was darkening, with the candy-floss colors of dusk dominating to the west as the sun was setting. The wagons moved into the village proper smoothly, Fredwick listening intently to the brief conversations outside, as Theodore, Fenna and a militiaman of the village, presumedly, had a brief discussion before the wagons were allowed through the gates. Once through, Fredwick gestured to Tulint to sit beside him, kind of draping herself on his shoulder and torso. "Very convincing," he whispered to her. However he knew he needed to give her a little help, the expression was good, but the lack of color to her cheeks, the lack of her eyes being engaged with the expression of the rest of her face. So he leaned in, improvising, as he simply played with her hair innocently, and whispered in gnomish, keeping his voice soft, husky, and low. "You are more beautiful and dazzling than the sunset and more radiant and exciting than the dawn after a long cold night."

      It had the intended effect, she immediately began to flush, her eyes engaged with the rest of her face looking shocked, smitten, and a little confused, which was close enough. Without hesitating Fredwick pulled open the speak easy hatch and kicked his performer's voice into gear, knowing he needed to be a bit louder for Theodore to hear him. "Good man I know not what your plan is, however the lady has been through quite the ordeal, as have we all. She seems to seek, ahem" he cleared his throat, obviously playing at finding a gentlemanly way to continue what he was saying. "A relaxed evening to destress and rest. I have offered to accommodate. If you could perhaps see us to the Charcoal Horn?" Fredwick inquired, buttering the charm heavily onto his voice. He was thankful of his knowledge of the village from a previous visit some years ago and hoped the Charcoal Horn was still in business.

      Theodore turned to glance back as he stopped briefly at an intersection in the main square of the village, reining in the horse to time his crossing appropriately with traffic, though there was not a lot of that this time in the evening. "Ach, we gots a job ta do, though tis later t'an I'd like-," Theodore paused as he looked in the wagon, seeing the blushing and smiling gnome, and the charming and caring smile of the halfman musician. Thinking of Mikael, the old man considered for a moment. Vorgi wouldn't like it, neither would old man Evers. But the damned cargo was intact, nothing had been stolen, and a young man with good intentions and a wife soon to have been, had died. Theodore had been fond of Mikael, they'd worked together for three years, he'd even been invited to the young man's wedding to come next summer, to stand as his best man. He deserved a better fate, and certainly deserved a night and a few pints in his memory. The old man's demeanor softened at the thought, and he changed his tune, "Ach fuck it, the delivery can wait, tis a late 'our and we've been through quite a bit. Aye I'll drop ye' both there an' pick yes up in the mornin'. Fer meself I think I'll seek out the Pine Pillow-'ouse. A drink and some warm company sounds like just the ticket."

      Tuli worked hard to keep the shock off her face. Theodore was clearly one of Vorgi's the way he'd started that response, but either the old man didn't know the severity of the situation and what he was transporting, or he was simply old enough to no longer really care, or find Vorgi and his various toughs intimidating. Whatever the reasons, she almost couldn't believe her luck and it took all her mental strength and will to not allow tears to flow again.

      Fredwick noted Theodore's change in stance, clocking it well. He had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't going to be quite that easy, but the charade was off to a good start. The old man was at best, intending to leave them under indirect supervision of someone else. Either someone they were already going to meet at the Charcoal Horn, or perhaps more ideally, if less likely, Gareth and Tiny. However the first stage of the deception had clearly sold well, the old man's vulnerability after the assault and the death of his apprentice, his assistant and likely his friend, had rattled him enough to make him pliable and receptive to manipulation.

      Fredwick listened carefully, intently a few moments later, stopped likely at another intersection, when he heard the voice of Fenna speaking to Theodore. "Nae our responsibilities include the escort back, o' course we know that. 'Owever, given our unique backgrounds, there is protocol to consider. Friya be under nae obligation o' course, but she is me friend an' traveling companion. My station dictates I need ta stop in at t'e local church, formally declare me presence to the local Shield-Mother or Shield-Father. I'd hazard a guess we nae be leavin' first thing, given the hour and the amount o' bulky cargo in these wagons. It'd be me guess that we'd be leaving the day after, would that be a fair guess?"

      Theodore responded gruffly, but with respect. "Aye Lancer t'at be 'bout the assessment o' the situation. I've decided we'll take the evenin', tis to late an hour ta be unloading all this stuff nae. First thing at sunup me an' Gareth be takin' the wagons out to Evers Timber an' Lumber ta be unloaded an' the cargo headin' back the other way will be loaded up. That'll take most o' the day, easily well into the mid afternoon. So nary worth leavin' then either, better ta wait til mornin' the next day, get a full day travel in. I needs ta acquire a second 'orse anyway, as well. Iris here has done well, strong girl, but she's on t'e wrong side of seven years ta be solo hauling a full wagon all the way back to Vorgistal 'erself, so I needs ta hope Evers 'as one he can spare, for appropriate compensation o' course. If'n he don't, I'll 'ave ta ask 'is competition over at Bylorn an' Sons, which I'm sure will come with a hefty markup, but such is cost o' doin' business."

      "Well 'opefully it nary comes ta that." Fenna replied. "Kartheart willin' anyway. However, I thank ye for the itinerary, we'll meet ye at dawn then. Yer our employer at the moment, so we'll be by the Charcoal Horn at sun's first light, ready ta go." she promised. Fredwick sighed, thinking through the added complication this presented then. If the pair weren't staying at the Charcoal Horn, that would mean he and Tuli would need to sell the idea of their intended tryst this night until it was quite late, before sneaking out, getting to the Temple of the Shield in the village, which was pretty much across town from the inn in question, and then after what would likely be a lengthy conversation and discussion, they would need to get back, get what sleep they could still manage, and be up for the crack of dawn.

      "You just had to open your mouth." Fredwick berated himself silently, "Playing at being some sort of hero or savior, real original." In truth the halfman's internal dialogue was more humorous than any actual regret or actual telling himself off. Though oft accused of many things, including being a deceptive silver tongued bastard, or lacking respect for authority in some cases, in truth he had a good heart and did have a general desire to do right by others when the chips were down. Tulint's chips were very clearly down and she felt cornered in a hand she couldn't play out or couldn't win, that much had been easy to read and easy to elicit from her, even non-verbally. He'd try and help anyone in that position, if he could, such was his nature. As they pulled up to a stop again some time later, the speak-easy hatch opened. "Alright ye two, we're at the Horn, off ye gets. Tiny will be stayin' 'ere too, the lad nary has any reason ta go ta the Pillow-House. He's got a woman back 'ome. Gareth's already arranged fer a pair o' rooms, across the hall from each other. Get yerselves out o' 'ere. 'Ave a drink or three, a nice meal, an' try and 'unwind' an' get some rest this night." He turned his gaze more fully on Tuli. "Especially yerself Miss Tulint, nae let 'im keep ye up all night, ye 'ear? We've a busy day on the 'morrow, an' need ta start bright and early."

      Tuli nodded, doing her best to keep some of the body language and facial expressions right, though it wasn't hard, with Fredwick whispering a few flowering compliments and sweet nothings in her ear to help her method act. She felt her cheeks were flushed again and smiled nervously, softly. "Of course, Theodore, and you have my gratitude." With her arm linked in Fredwick's, she carefully got off the wagon, the halfman acting the gentleman well, leaping down first, then picking her up in a spin, selling well a showering of soft kisses, though nothing touched her lips or neck despite the movements suggesting they would, only the cheeks and one on the forehead as he put her down did. She appreciated both the skill and the respect this showed her and was instantly more comfortable selling the act, leaning into him, finding comfort in his presence that could easily be confused for intentions of a bedroom nature.

      Theodore chuckled, smiling genuinely as he wiped a tear from his eye. "A little bit of passion out of tragedy, a good sign. Helps remind ye that it isn't all doom and gloom." He saw Gareth move past the first wagon back to the second. Soon enough the two drivers were underway, heading back to towards the gate they'd arrived through, to the Pine Pillow-House. A meal, a drink, and some warm company in the sheets would do them both a world of good.

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      Fenna kept tight grip on the reins, keeping Wvota at a good steady slow walking pace, allowing Friya, whom was on foot, to easily match it, as they moved through the town in the rapidly fading vestiges of daylight. Fenna did not need to ask for directions, her holy symbol hanging from her neck, now tucked beneath her armor, provided. As with all Ascended faiths, along with being a focus and vehicle for her connection to the Tempest Halls, the celestial realm of Sir Kartheart, and allowing her to tap into some small corner of that raw divinity to manifest it through her fervor and prayer, this symbol was also a simple guiding trinket. With but a small bit of muttered scripture whilst it was within her grip, she could name her location, any town or settlement, and so long as there was a fully sanctioned and established church or temple of Sir Kartheart, a Shield Hall, as they were often known, the pendant would provide guidance. In the case of the faithful of the Storm-Rider, it would start off quite warm, not hot enough to hurt, but almost mildly uncomfortably warm. However the closer they got to the building itself, the cooler it would become, until it was as if one had put a piece of ice or a ball of snow within their garments on their upper chest where the pendant would rest. This meant the pair could focus on getting out of sight and earshot of the general public, and getting their thoughts in order.

      Soon enough they arrived, turning onto a street to find the building and property itself. Interesting and worthy of note, a small bit of forest had been preserved within the walls, a curiosity that Fenna recalled though she'd forgotten it was Spruce Point. That meant that this church was actually dual purpose, having a wing dedicated to Talia, the lady of the leaves. The shield-father here was married to a priestess of Talia, if her memory served. What was his name, she could not remember, trying to recall what the priest at Vorgistal had told her when she had given Fenna a rundown of names and temples within the valley. 

       Having a better memory for names, and seeming to read the frustration on her companion's face well, Friya spoke up quickly as they approached the temple proper itself. "Kirk Duhan that be t'e name yer lookin' fer."

      Fenna flashed a brief smile, nodding her thanks, as she began to dismount now that they were in front of the chapel. The building was sturdy, a solid block and brick construction, as one would expect of a Shield Hall, with windows of simple glass, no tints or colors except for the large window presumably on the outside of what Fenna guessed to be the actual church proper, the room with seating and pews where services and sermons would be held. Even this was a rather simple and tasteful design, invoking the town with the art, showing a conifer forest in midwinter, with the sun shaped like a shield shining above. The outside of the structure lacked much in the way of artistic display, though it did transition to the wing protruding off the main church that Fenna presumed to be the Talian temple. Here the structural materials transitioned, done tastefully by dyeing the stonework closer and closer to timber and wood tones until the last two or three rows of brick matched perfectly with the timbers that took over, giving way to the decorated walls of a Talian temple. Fenna found the construction marvelously refreshing, a reminder that the Ascended were not meant to be opposing faiths, but compatriots in an overarching greater belief system, an understanding all to often forgotten by more than a few.

      She dismounted, leading Wvota through the gate at the edge of the compound, turning left towards a second smaller building that had the obvious trappings of a barn. Two young men were there as she walked up, clearly adorned in the dress of novitates, basically church employees and priests in training. One was in the soft green of Talia, the other the stone grey and snowy whites of Sir Kartheart. Fenna cleared her throat and spoke formally, having of course appropriately removed her helm before entering sacred ground. "Me'self and me mount come seeking refuge and hospitality. We nae wish ta invoke our station besides fellows within the fold o' Sir Kartheart's protective shield."

      The young man in the whites and greys, clearly human, whilst the other seemed elven to look at them, turned and his eyes went wide as he saw the beast and Fenna herself. "Uhm, yes Lancer, I mean, miss, yes. I am Novitate Gregory, this is Acolyte Tir'vin'avi. We were just closing up the stable, but we can absolutely see to your and your companion's needs. Just a simple resting place and feeding is what your majestic companion will require or are their any further needs?" Wvota snorted her approval of their attitude and seemed calm enough. Fenna noted the boy did not have a typical northern slant to his accent. Likely first generation Suranthi, which was interesting and worth noting, but not worth exploring to heavily.

      Fenna thought about it for a moment before answering. "This night, nae, the hour is late. A simple dressing down, insurin' me tack is intact an' undamaged, a good feeding and a stall to rest in, preferably one with an open air window. Ye'll find a blanket for Wvota in her saddle bags, left side, third pouch back. She prefers her 'ay ta 'ave some other vegetation mixed in, I nary know if you've the tailin's from the kitchen's dinner preparations available ta ya, but that would suffice. If nae then some small 'mount o' vegetables an' fruit cut an' smashed into the 'aygrass would be appreciated. I'll provide compensation to the temple for these goods o' course. 'Owever, 'morrow eve, I may be also requestin' hospitality, an' if'n I am twill be earlier in the day an' then a dust bath an' brushin' would be well appreciated by Wvota 'ere I'm sure."

       The young man nodded, approaching with steady hands, though Fenna could see a little bit of nerves in his face. "Come then Wvota, nice and easy, lets get you dressed down, comfortable, and get you a place to sleep, along with some food and cool water." Thankfully, though she had a prankster's streak in her, Fenna was pleased to see the boar simply go along with the young man calmly enough. Fenna turned her attention to other matters, moving away from the stables, but the elf's voice did call out.

 "Uhm miss, you did not give us your name. I know it is unlikely that we would see another Lancer this night, or at all if we are honest, but just in case, we would wish to know your name to match to the face to avoid confusion."

       Fenna chuckled, shaking her head at her own foolhardiness. "Aye, forgive me, got a lot on me mind. Fenna Novikoal is the name me mother gave me, so that be functional enough an' a damn sight better than the official titles nonsense. Nae forgive me, the pair o' ye, but I have business in church, and hope that I can still catch Shield-Father Duhan 'afore he retires for the evenin'. Myself and me companion needs ta talk with him on some matters of importance.

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       Kirk could smell the stew even before he entered the kitchen. The church was feeding more than their ten normal staff, as per usual, having at least four guests they were offering hospitality to in some way. Most were just seeking a meal and company, locals whom didn't have any family left. One was a hunter whom traveled from village to village in the region, and oft shared interesting news and stories with the priest and his wife, Amelia. Besides that of course they had the three orphans whom lived amongst the clergy to feed. All in all it was always a full dining hall and meals would have been challenging. Thankfully, by Talia's blessing, his wife was a fine cook, an avid harvester, and good friends with the regional hunter's guild. Today was Nature's Blessing day, the day of the week where Amelia utilized whatever ingredients she could wrestle up from the surrounding woods, from local hunters, and that her novitate had managed to harvest from the small Heartwood to make a stew that would normally feed them for two to three days, lunch and dinners. It was always good, always surprising, and never failed to be hearty and filling.

      He moved into the kitchen and saw his wife, working away, humming a soft and simple tune, a happy little rhythm she oft would hum without really being aware she was doing so. The smell of the soft bread, the garlic and onion loaves she would bake on this day, reached his nose. However he put that aside, admiring his lady wife, whom to him only got more beautiful with age. The pair were in their early fifties, old for humans, and the salt and pepper within their hair was obvious. His wife still had her raven black hair dominating however, unlike himself, the beard and closer cropped hair of the woodsman like head showing far more salt and pepper than his normal wheat like blond.

       He watched her with a soft and loving smile on his face, as she accentuated her movements, humming a bit more obviously, seeming to partially dance as she moved about the kitchen in her robes of leaf green, having them cinched by her apron so they shaped more like a dress. As she moved and spun, going about her work, she enjoyed the feel of her doting husbands presence for a few minutes, loving the way he couldn't take his eyes away. Once she was satisfied all was going well in her kitchen, she moved away from the cauldron and the stone and clay ovens. The loaves were cooling now, with two apple and blueberry pies just in the oven to begin baking, so she moved over to her husband, wrapping her arms delicately around his waist, lifting her head to meet his lips with hers. They kissed deeply, with great love, before separating, though they held on to each other whilst they talked. "I sees dinner be well in hand, me love. Should I start preparin' the communal table now?" he inquired after they made small talk for a few minutes, catching up on each others day and just enjoying each other's presence and embrace.

      Amelia glanced back, into the kitchen, clearly doing some swift calculating, before nodding, releasing her embrace. "Yes, I think you should." she replied, moving back to continue her work. At that moment, Kirk heard footsteps coming down the hallway that lead to the kitchen space. They were obviously armored steps, the metallic sounds unmistakable.

      Presuming it to be a constable or some such, he moved to the archway that lead out to see whom was approaching and stood briefly in shock. Swiftly finding his voice, he moved out into the hallway, calling out to his wife. "Me dearest, ye may need ta get one o' your helpers to set the table. I'd suggest settin' two extra places as well!" Closing the distance to meet the two unexpected guests, he bowed deeply. "Lancer, Geomancer, I be Shield Father-Kirk Duhan, is there somethin' I can help ye with?"

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      Fredwick and Tulint moved off, all smiles and swoons, Fredwick playing his role well, ever the conquering gentleman, much to the amusement of many a patron in the Charcoal Horn. The pair eventually made it up to their room, which immediately Fredwick closed the door, latching it. His demeanor changed, not in a way that was threatening, but in a way that was less charming lusty performer, and more doting caretaker, as he urged Tuli to sit down. "I do apologize for how thick we are having to lay this on, though I do have a fear that your practical improv acting lessons may not be quite finished. I just need to confirm my suspicions." He whispered quietly to her, before standing up, and speaking more openly and with some volume "Ahhh yes how crass of me darling I forgot the wine. That simply will not do. Give me but a few moments to correct this transgression!" As he moved to the door, Fredwick mussed up his hair some, undid at least half the buttons on his tunic, and loosened both his belt and loosed the clasp of his leggings, creating some obvious body language and visual signaling

      The halfman opened the door, and almost ran smack into Tiny. "Oh a quite the surprise, apologies my friend, I need to head downstairs, I seem to have forgotten the wine, as the lady was kind enough to remind me." The large man raised an eyebrow, with a sarcastic smirk on his face, but did not stop Fredwick. He moved down the stairs with an excitable pace, swiftly acquired a bottle of something resembling wine, since a small town like this had limited options, and headed back up the stairs, two clay and pewter goblets in hand as well. Tiny was still seated in the hallway, outside their room now, head against the wall. That told all Fredwick he needed to know as he moved back in the room, making pleasantries to the large man. He closed and latched the door, moving into the room, and gestured for Tuli to join him at the small table in the room.

      "It seems we have someone tasked to keep tabs on our activities, much as I suspected. So we shall need to sell the idea of our...escapades. How convincingly can you moan?" Fredwick asked her quietly. Bluntly, but at a whisper. Tuli went beat red in that moment, and her eyes widened. "Well I presume we are not going to actually sleep together miss Zittlidrosp, but we need to convince that lug out there we are doing that. So I suggest we enjoy some of this wine, whilst improving our own sexual narrative complete with voice lines, sound effects and the appropriate grunts and moans. We need him to believe it. However before we begin setting the scene, I'll pose a following question. As a Chemist, do you happen to have on you or in that bag you keep so close, any combination of herbs, medicinal concoctions or other pharmaceuticals we could use on this wine once we've finished half the bottle? Something to help insure that our chaperone out there is going to be quite the heavy sleeper?"

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

      Tiny tilted his head, amused at the sounds of the two small individuals. "They might be tiny," he muttered to himself, "but they putting that bed to good use. Heard it move a couple times now." He heard the voice of Tulint, her moaning over and over, increasing in intensity, and had a good chuckle. The little doctor needed this, to be fair. She'd been so worked up the entire trip, which was absurd. This was his and Gareth's first run, and Theodore as well as Tuli, and well Mikael had been doing this longer than the others. So he didn't really understand her nervousness the entire trip at all. After the goblin attack most certainly, but even before it she'd been like that.

      Tiny wasn't really easily bothered, that's likely why he'd been told to do this. He didn't even blush at the sounds of what Fredwick and Tuli were doing, even as it reached a climax, and then a second. An hour passed, then another half of one. "Little man is impressive!" Tiny whispered to himself, chuckling. "Little man but with big capabilities, clearly." At that moment, the door opened, and a naked, unashamedly so, messy haired and sweaty Fredwick appeared. He hiccupped, looking down to the right and then left, seeing Tiny.

      "Ahhh, there, hic, is me good buddy, the titan Tiny, that's so fun to say. The lady and me are done with this!" the drunken halfman told him, bringing his arm out from behind him, revealing the half empty bottle of wine. "Good stuff, strong. Ye deserve a drink Tiny, here take the rest we insist!"

      "Fredwick, get over here, I need more of you. You promised more than one pleasure, well get over here and let me taste you!" came Tuli's somewhat drunken sounding voice, which had Tiny cackling as he accepted the bottle.

      "Right away sweetheart, you just lie right there!" Fredwick winked at Tiny then. "We'll only be at this another hour....maybe two I'd think. Enjoy the drink and get some rest remember we got an early morning! Now I better not keep her waiting any longer--wooah!" Fredwick said, genuinely startled as Tuli grabbed him and yanked him back into the room, stumbling the door closed. 

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

      Fredwick came awake from his spot on the chair by the table quietly. It had been a couple hours since he'd given the spiked wine to Tiny. He looked to the bed to see Tuli stirring awake, and grinned to himself. That had been a damn good touch by her, the whole sequence when he'd given Tiny the wine. She'd really gone all in on the sell, and it had helped tremendously. She'd had a tonic for each of them to clear their heads of the alcohol before taking this little nap, and the sheer mixture of things she'd spiked the other half of the bottle with would have a horse sleeping for hours, so Fredwick had to assume it would at least do that much to the large Tantur. He carefully moved to the door of the room, delicately undoing the latch, and cracking the door open to peek outside. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he smiled wide, suppressing his desire to laugh loudly.

      There on the floor was Tiny, the Tantur curled up, snoring the deepest, rumbly drunkard snores that Fredwick heard in years, and he performed regularly in some of the worse dives on the continent before this little rural escape he'd decided to go on. Genuinely choking back actual amusement, he turned to face Tulint, who was clearly concerned. "Is he alright, I didn't want to give him a dose that big, is he alive?" she whispered.

      Fredwick was amazed that this was the same woman he'd just spent the last two or three hours improving some of the filthiest sounding sexual actions and dialogue he'd ever even pretended to imagine in his life. Now here all worried and concerned sweet as a flower. "You are a strange one doctor." he told her, not as worried about the volume of his voice. "However yes he's fine, just in a truly deep drunk sleep. Those herbs you used, worked wonders, you weren't kidding about the potency of them mixed with alcohol. Now come on, lets get you to that church and get you someone with some power to wield to help you."

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       Kirk sighed, sitting back in the chair of the church's modest library, the fire burning low. It had to be near midnight. His eyes ached, his old bones creaked even as he leaned back. Putting aside another tome he glanced over to the table where the young templar and magister were still hard at work, picking through other documents. Clearing his throat, he rose, stretching. "Forgive me the pair o' ye I beg. This last tome proved fruitless, offerin' nae more than the vagueness of the other three, calling Voidstone a 'mutagenic element, a sort o' raw corrupted essence an' manna o' a sort from the Void that somehow crosses into the Material Realm. Very rare, extremely dangerous an' should be avoided. Nothing on 'ow ta neutralize or destroy it, an' nary a thing on how ta detect it an' track it." The old priest yawned and then continued. "I'm nary any use with 'ow tired I am nae. Me eyes seeing naught but scribbles, I nae able ta read another word. We nae 'ave a big library, an' even less volumes or documents on esoterics, but yer both welcome ta keep lookin', o' course. I need sleep, 'owever."

      Fenna rose respectfully, motioning with her head that Friya should do the same. "Nary a worry, Shield-Father Kirk, I nae meant ta keep ye so late with such troublin' tidin's, an' I'm sorry ta be the bearer o' 'em." she told him solemnly. "But if'n nae else, we know the goblins involved, an' we thank ye profusely fer that information, hopefully we can put it ta some sort of good use."

      As Kirk went to excuse himself, one of the other staff of the church, a fellow priest, a dwarf, came into the library, lantern in hand and stopped in front of the three of them. "We've an interestin' situation Shield-Father, we have a pair, a halfman and a gnome. They be askin' ta speak to the Storm-Lancer. I can only assume they means 'er." he said, pointing squarely at Fenna.

      Fenna and Friya looked at each other, exchanging looks of curiosity and mild suspicion. Friya mouthed "Told you" to Fenna, whom narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She piped up, interrupting Kirk and his fellow priest. "Forgive us, but ye need nae wonder, we likely knows the pair, an' would be more than happy ta talk to 'em. I know the hour is late, but the whole thing is some matter o' urgency. They was with us ye see, part o' the same merchant posse if'n ye will. Could ye bring 'em down 'ere, that way were down below the main level an' well below any sleeping quarters, so our burnin' the midnight oil shouldn't disturb anyone, 'opefully."

      The priest glanced to Shield-Father Kirk, whom nodded curtly. "If'n Lancer Fenna vouches for 'em, they may be welcomed even down here under 'er supervision. Let 'em in and guide 'em down 'ere if ye could be so kind Toral. I need ta get ta bed."

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

      Fredwick and Tulint moved down the last few stairs into the large open room, where the fireplace against the south wall was roaring with a warming fire. Shelves of books, documents and literature of a notable variety were housed here. The comfortable chairs by the fireplace were a nice touch, adding a cozy and rustic feel to what would otherwise just be a simple church library. The pair moved into the room, seeing Fenna and Friya already seated on two of the chairs positioned in front of the fireplace, with tables beside them where a small stack of books sat by each. Fredwick strolled on in confidently, giving a small bow to the pair. "I presume introductions are not required now that you see us both, yes?"

      Fenna and Friya both put aside the books they'd been combing through, giving the pair their full attention. Friya decided to be the one to verbally respond. "Aye, lad, we remembers ye both. Make yerselves comfortable, we was told ye needed ta talk somethin' fierce? Important indeed, we're presumin', given the late 'our an' all."

      Fredwick didn't need a second invitation, taking a comfortable seat, gesturing that Tuli should do the same. He raised an eyebrow to Friya, gesturing to the three thick tomes she had on the table beside the chair she was seated in. "Yourselves seem to have few plans of sleeping this night either it would seem. Would I be right in guessing this has something to do with the goblin attack?" he inquired, as he stripped his heavier jacket, shrugging it off and then folding it neatly and placing it on the table beside his chair.

      To Fredwick's surprise however, it was Tulint's voice that answered, before the other two could say a word. "They are trying to find any useful information about dealing with Voidstone." she stated matter-of-factly, with an edge of sorrow in her voice. The gnome got herself up in the chair, both her and Fredwick seeming as if children in these cushioned chair meant for human adults. Fredwick eyes went wide at the mention of a word he'd only ever heard used or mentioned in tall tales, scary campfire stories of the worst kind, or really dark and twisted bits of folklore and legend. Friya and Fenna immediately perked up to, Fenna's hand unconsciously twitching towards where she normally wore her sword, though Friya gestured for the dwarf to be calm. Tuli took a deep breath, fighting down the panic, fighting internally with herself. She wanted to run out of that room, out of the space, out into the street. She wanted to just run and put this all behind her. She wanted to finish this last run and be done. But something had been eating her the whole trip, some nagging doubt deep inside. Something that the goblin attack had shocked her out of, this foolish belief that she'd be allowed to simply walk away. 

      No Vorgi couldn't allow her to walk away. She knew his face, she knew about the product, she knew the entire thing. At best he would have kidnapped her when she returned with the money and fresh counts she was supposed to bring. At worst he'd have her killed. So taking that breath in, strengthening her resolve, Tuli opened her mouth, and before she could second guess her decision, she confessed it all. The Void-stone refining, the debt, the deal she'd been forced into to pay the debts, the details of the contraband on the wagon, the structure of it all, Vorgi, which of his mining staff she knew for sure were involved. She explained how Mikael and Theodore were key parts of this, as well as others. She explained the whole story, including telling the pair about the long closed down mine shaft that was heavily guarded at all times by some of the miners, due to 'unsafe structural elements'. She explained that in truth, the lift within that tunnel, deep within it, that only operated twice a night during the two days of end-week. This, she explained, lead down to the larger chunk of Void-stone where Vorgi was having these bits she was refining mined off of.

      She explained in thorough detail her job of removing any impurities in the ore, getting just the mineral out, and then grinding it down into dust, into as fine and pure a powdered and flaked form as she could called Void-Dust. She explained the false bricks, lined with an obsidian-lead alloy inside to help contain the dangerous substance's absolutely wild manna signature, for want of a better word, making it a lot harder, damn near impossible actually, to detect for any magister. It also was about as safe a way to transport the stuff as one could hope for, which Tuli made clear was her primary goal when she came up with the idea. She just got it all off her chest going on for almost an hour, impressively holding back tears, though clearly fighting them the whole time. Once done, she slumped back in the chair, her eyes glassy, almost in a fog of sorts.

      For what felt like an eternity silence seemed to hang in the air. Fredwick was the first to speak, reaching into his jacket, ignoring Fenna and Friya's eyes boring holes in him as he did so. From within it he withdrew a simple pewter and silver flask. "I'm glad I stashed some of that wine away in this. After that I think I need a drink."

      Fenna was the next to speak, after getting up, moving closer to the fire, clearly deep in thought. "By Kartheart's spear, this is a damned mess. 'Ere I thought would be a mere issue o' headin' back out in the wilderness after honorin' our obligation an' seein' ye the wagons back to Vorgistal. We'd try an' get a better idea o' where the goblins been holed up, maybe even find the Bone-Rattler tribe warrens. Turn that information in ta the nearest garrison to it, an' perhaps volunteer ta help raid the place." She turned and noted the confused look on Fredwick's face at her words, and clarified. "That, by all accounts, based on descriptions o' their tribal markin's, be the tribe o' greenskins responsible fer t'e attack. Shield-Father Kirk has pretty solid records o' the tribes all across the hills and mountains 'round the valley region. We likes ta nae our enemies." she explained.

      Friya spoke up here, looking at Tuli. "This do add some complications, aye. I'd say our first order o' business be yerself miss Tulint. Ye took a great deal o' precautions, but what 'bout disposal? How was that done? Ye mentioned burnin' the stuff ye wore in the lab, but that alone would nae be enough. Ye been vigilant fer any changes, so be 'onest, 'ave ye experienced anythin'?"

      Tulint shook her head vigorously. "No, nothing, I seem to have been able to keep myself from any direct exposure. As to how burning the stuff worked, well that seems simple enough. Vorgi had soaked the coals for those fires in Holy Oil for a day before they would be used. I've not the foggiest idea if that actually would matter, but twas what he did and it seemed to keep it from having any reactions when we burned the residue. Likely that and the obsidian flakes we mixed into the oil had a roll to play as well." Tuli shook her head, thinking through the whole thing. "The amount of coin, resources and effort that went into setting this up, I am not entirely certain how he's seeing any sort of reasonable return on that investment, if I'm honest."

      Friya turned a glance to Fenna, raising an eyebrow inquisitively to the dwarf, curious how accessible at least one of those ingredients were. Fenna rubbed her temples with one hand, clearly pushing her limits at this late hour. "Aye, 'right, holy oil we can do. The obsidian be a taller order with a tad more difficulty in its acquisition. 'Owever that's just 'ow we destroy the stuff, which is a worthwhile problem. What bout these containers ye made, explain these ta me. 'Ow many o' 'em exist, 'ow secure are they?"

       Tuli explained as best she could the false bricks, how they worked, their effectiveness, and general design. The presence of obsidian in them hypothetically could allow you to fill them partway with holy oil, add some Void-Stone and burn it that way, if that was indeed how you would make the stuff inert, but this was all theoretical. Fenna and Friya asked a variety of questions for the next hour or so, picking Tulint's brain, trying to get a better idea of the situation. After all was said and done, and all questions seemed exhausted, Fenna spoke up with authority. "Seems the logical first step is the wagons. Ye two should return ta the Horn." She told Fredwick and Tulint. "That way Theodore, Gareth an' Tiny are none the wiser. Ye aren't gonna get swept up in t'is Tuli, ye've me word o' honor on that. Yer as much victim as anyone. 'Owever we will likely want ta keep ye close both ta be sure ye suffer no....effects o' exposure that are just slow ta manifest, an' fer the information ye can provide, as well as fer yer own protection. On the morrow, when we shows up and starts wieldin' authority o' a kind, ye two need ta sell yer surprise, so Theodore an' the rest nary suspect ye. Once we separates ye all, for interrogations an' such ye'll be in the clear. Ye been a strong lass so far, an' it took a lot of courage ta come ta us tonight. Sir Kartheart admires t'at an' watches over us brave ones, an' charges 'is faithful ta do the same. Ye aren't alone nae, ye've help, an' we'll get ye out o' the nightmare an' put it ta rest."

      Tulint met Fenna's eyes then, and saw honesty and compassion within them, and felt a great relief, a weight lifted from her mind and soul, as she realized the dwarf's open honesty was in fact exactly what it seemed. She choked back tears, or tried to but they started to form in her eyes, as she felt that wave of relief, of hope wash over her. "Thank you, thank you both." she told the pair, her voice cracking with the effort of maintaining her composure.

      Friya smiled softly, shaking her head. "Ye no be thankin' us, we doin' our jobs. Nae Fredwick, she's yer charge, ye 'ear me halfman. Yer a performer, well get 'er back ta the Horn and insure ye walk 'er through how to sell a deception like this. The shock and surprise needs ta seem genuine. Get 'er ready and both of ye get what rest ye can. Tomorrow is goin' ta be an interestin' an' busy day."