Dawn arrived once again, the party that grew to know each other ever so slowly continuing this trend. A sense of equality and slow budding trust forming as slowly as a sapling grows into a full-grown tree. However, there were no complaints about that, all sides have shown their most vulnerable selves. Now no longer only familiar with the image but with the person itself.
Wra'thez was reached without any problem. No longer was there an assassination attempt nor did the grand duke task the party anything else but the task at hand. Another harbor city located at the inward waters of the continent, The Wide Head Seawater's the final big mass of water before Slaver's neck Pass. With each unruly wave, the screams of drowned cargo washed ashore. The many remains sullying the deep waters. A testament to the depths of human greed.
The city's atmosphere matched that of the washed corpses, a cared-for stillness reigning in what should be one of the busiest cities of the grand duchy of Norka. Posters hung on the gate and billboards spread across town.
"At the behest of Iode Daes, the grand duke of Norka and the affiliated council. A decision has been made to ensure the safety of its citizens. At present slave raiders led by the master called "Vessen Heris Assar" have repeatedly transgressed the preestablished borders. In preparation for a potential military conflict and to ensure the safety of the nearby located villages. The decision has been reached to conscript all capable bodies, travelling mercenaries may enlist at the barracks past the white oak square. In three days' time, all will assemble in the fields past the western gate. Noncompliance will be seen as defiance against the crown and as withholding yourself from the line of duty. Punishments for these actions will be decided by the head of justice Hedara An'Yis." The largest poster in the center of each billboard reads, easily overshadowing those requesting adventurers or mercenary aid for different sorts of problems.
"Vessen... He's taking initiative in his own hands." The grand duke mumbles audibly, attracting the eyes of his hired adventurers. "He's the one I believe to be most fervently aiming for my dead." He explains as he looks to the western gate.
The party moves onward looking for anyone specialized in treating potentially poisonous wounds. Without success, the many herbalists and potion makers whilst competent in their own craft unable to expand it to proper medical care. Whilst the temple stands nearly empty, only the priest and priestess without any holy power remaining, all the healers and paladins requested to join the potential front line. "Is it urgent, child?" One of the elder priests asks, seemingly apologetic for the inconvenient reply he had just given.
"He has already been treated to an extent. However, we're trying to limit the risks." Cristal responds.
"You can try your luck with the council. Maester Gyradin still remains in Wra'thez if anyone is able to properly provide care... It would be him."
"Thank you. We will try that." Cristal and the elder priest give each other a firm handshake, the servants of the divine looking at each other with different types of respect. Out of sight from the temple, they discuss their next move.
"We can continue." The recovering Gunnir says. "I don't even feel the wound anymore."
"I disagree, after Norka there won't be any time to properly rest. Sytrich is clearly hostile and we would be lucky if the kingdom of Revay would even offer us any extension of hospitality... If they even have it." The grand duke shuts down the discussion as they all make their way to the palace grounds. "We will first try to enter without revealing my identity... Just in case." He says before he approaches the standing guards. Before he could even speak the guards began to open the gate. Bowing slightly as one would bow to an important guest.
"You've arrived Dalbert Estian. My apologies for the lack of greeting. I wasn't sure when exactly you would." the voice of a man says loudly in the distance, walking with a cane in hand unclear for the exact reason why as the man walks straight and sturdy without any problem. His face is covered as he wears a bird-based mask, a crow-like beak extending further than that of a normal crow. The rest of his clothes are raven black, with feathers attached at the ends. When continuing to inspect this individual further the question if this is truly simply a costume or perhaps entirely made out of the remains of crows starts to persist in the mind of the party. A heavy sigh escapes Dalbert Estian's mouth as he sees the figure now clearly, no, thanks to the fog-filled surrounding air.
"Brandubh... I'm surprised to see you still hanging around here." He says discarding the cloak that covers his features and reapplying his noble facade.
"Birds of a feather stick together." The man named Brandubh replies as he walks over, shaking the hand of each member of the party. Falling black feathers land on their armor as a crow flies past, landing on the shoulder of the individual. Its gaze was not fixed on its master but rather on the party, looking into the emerald-colored eyes. "He has an obsession with shiny things. Don't mind it." The owner says as he pokes the crow away from his shoulder. The crow's feathers fall off as it screeches at its owner before departing. "Come follow me, the council has waited for your arrival… Even Asariel's kindness will not spare you from Hedara An'Yis's growing impatience." The bird-faced masked man says, having already turned around from the expected visitors.
"Great… I'm…. So delighted." The grand duke says his tone and voice not matching the words spoken. Following the one called Bradubh, his protectors follow closely. Cristal leads the front as Gunnir stands in the middle. The cackling of crows accompanies their footsteps as they come closer and closer.