Turn 126

Most of the crowd is backing away now that the spiders have appeared. Ibn Fadil watches Emmett lurch and fall, and the mechanisms pause as if registering their quarry's lack of motion before drawing off a few feet. Above, the birds continue their circling. One of the guards moves off through the crowd on some errand, while two others bind Emmett and the fourth glowers at the people curious enough to continue watching. Gerik's name is murmured by one or two.
    "An impostor and a spy," the guard growls, overhearing this. "Be off, the lot of you!" The arrival of more guards a few minutes later encourages their dispersal.
    They do indeed appear to be moving Emmett up the road toward the fortress.
    Emmett does not lose consciousness; the poison merely paralyzes, and that for only a few minutes, but by the time he can move again he has been roughly searched -- not thoroughly enough to find the tools or the compartment in his leg, but anything else he's carrying is taken (they're puzzled by the Gond symbol) -- and very securely bound with heavy ropes, then placed on a wagon, which creaks slowly off through the snow in the direction of the road to Highfort.
    They ask him a few questions -- "Where's the other one?" and "Who sent you?" are the crowd favorites -- but seem more interested in delivering him in one piece than in getting answers right away. Above them, becoming invisible as the sky shades to black, the two ravens continue their lazy circles, tracking the wagon's progress. The men exchange a few hypotheses before their leader warns them to silence. Emmett's shouts before his capture suggest to them that he might be working with the local priests, perhaps having been sent by a worried neighboring lord; a few snickers suggest that the neighbors have a reason to be worried. The rumor also seems to have gotten around that Emmett is some kind of sorcerer, which may explain why they're watching him so carefully.
    Though all of this the half man is silent, though once his ability to move returns, he adopts a look of supreme unconcern, as if some higher power were watching over him.
    Moving off with the rest, ibn Fadil sounds shocked and frightened as he asks some of his acquaintances from the search, "What *were* those things?" One older man gives him a warning look. "You didn't see them."
    He looks appropriately alarmed and chastened.
    Ibn Fadil leaves the crowd and gets ahead of the wagon bearing his captured comrade, moving as quickly as possible to get the time he'll need at the warehouse. Since he's already picked this lock once, it doesn't take as long to open it this time.
    Looking at the rapidly deepening shadows, so burdensome to human eyes, he realizes that he'll need to do something to attract their attention to the building as possibly suspicious, or there's a good chance they might pass on by without noticing.
    He leaves the door gaping wide, searches around inside until he finds a couple of lamps, and then more until he finds some oil for them, and leaves one shining dimly through the open door. He then drags some of the warehouse's contents into the road where they're certain to be noticed, and conceals himself on the roof to wait.
    The wagon finally creaks into view on the road up to the fortress. The men look alert. One man drives the cart, with two others riding in the cart where they can keep an eye on the prisoner, the remaining three walking.
    The two birds are still circling slowly overhead. The wagon slows to a halt as the scattered materials are noticed. After a brief colloquy two of the walking men approach the open door, swords drawn; one of them brings one of the lanterns from the wagon, leaving one light there.
    As soon as the men's attention is on the warehouse door (and hopefully when the cursed birds are furthest away), ibn Fadil slips off the roof and across the churned-up snow, to duck under the rear of the wagon. Then he takes a small stone and throws it at the hind leg of the horse, trying to make it shy and distract the men further.
    The horse jumps and snorts as the stone strikes it, but the wagon doesn't move enough to throw anyone off balance.
    "What...?" The man opposite him turns, startled by the sickening sound of a cut throat as his comrade disappears over the side of the wagon, into the shadows. "Attack!" he barks at the two away, then at the driver, who has started reaching for his sword, "Go!"
    Emmett, startled, nevertheless seizes this opportunity. Still feeling the effects of Lynden's spell, he strains mightily at his bonds, hearing the ropes on his arms snap.
    The two men by the warehouse sprint back towards the wagon as the driver snaps the reins to get the horse moving again; smelling blood, the animal is now nervous. The remaining man on the wagon, hearing the ropes break, tells Emmett, "Move and I'll kill you!"
    The remaining man on the ground near the wagon goes around it to see what's become of their vanished comrade, busy spilling the last few drops of his blood into the snow. The shadows swell and flicker as the lamp swings on its pole. Overhead, the birds are still circling silently.
    Ibn Fadil ducks underneath the wagon to try a repeat of his trick. Trying to watch Emmett and the shadows at the same time, the man fails miserably and joins his comrade in rapidly bleeding to death.
    The half-elf then climbs up onto the wagon as Emmett seizes the dead man's sword and cuts his remaining bonds.
    The two guards who have just returned gape briefly at this unexpected turnaround before launching themselves into the fray.
    "It's that other one!" one of them exclaims, apparently assuming ibn Fadil is Lynden. Emmett is closer to them. The driver, aware by now of something amiss behind him, drops the reins and turns to meet ibn Fadil as the wagon lurches abruptly.
    One of them mutters something about sorcery. The fourth remaining man has had enough already, and takes to his heels up the road to the fortress.
    "Flee while you can," ibn Fadil advises the driver, even as he moves toward the startled man, his bloody knife held low and ready; lunging in, he delivers a deft cut; not life-threatening this time. [2 pts.]
    As the vehicle lurches Emmett takes a casual hop to the ground, near the remaining guards. The Half Man swings the sword once, cautiously years of experience giving him its heft and length, his eye once again lighting up the feral expression on his face. "Not sorcery. I told you to stand aside, in Gerik's name. Did you think I was joking?" This is said loud enough to insure that the fleeing guard can hear it.
    With that his sword becomes a blur of motion, distracting from the equally dangerous club that ends his left arm. The man ducks aside from the sword blow but is dealt a glancing blow from the wooden arm. [1 pt.]
    "The Guild is here. The Guild Knows." Again, this is more for the benefit of their fleeing companion then the short-lived one facing him.
    Ibn Fadil's man swings his blade wildly, coming nowhere near the half-elf, steps backward, and lurches to the ground, not quite a fall but clearly not as controlled as he would have liked.
    Both of Emmett's opponents manage to connect. (11 points total)
    * * *
    The giff's evident worry is momentarily transformed into an angry snort. "Quite a cautious reconnaissance... we've learned a few things ourselves this day, about what His Lordship is up to here. It seems there is little we can do until ibn Fadil returns to inform us of Emmett's fate. Pilot, take us back up."
    Far below the ship, small black things move swiftly across the snow, searching.
    "Lynden," Yestin says eventually, "I still lack familiarity with this world. Tell me, is there knowledge here of a black powder that burns very fiercely, and with a great deal of smoke? Perhaps it is used in celebrations, or in weaponry?"
    Lynden thinks back to the ceremonies he's officiated at but cannot recall anything that matches Yestin's description. "No, I've not come across anything that resembles it," is his reply. "Do you have any of this powder here ? It would surely need something impressive like that to render those mechanical creatures inert." As he considers the abominations he realizes he's worried not just about the half man and the rogue but the entire crew. " May I suggest we take precautions to ensure they cannot get onboard? I'd hate to be surprised by them."
    "Unless they can fly, we should be safe enough, at least for now. Mechanisms, as I think Emmett would tell you, all have their weak points. But alas, to your question -- we have no weapons of that sort aboard." He sighs a bit. "I do not envy your king."
    
    

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