IC - Village of Yoblora

Before anyone can answer, the old woman adds, "The other side of that coin is desperation. When the collectors came, we had enough supplies and crops in ground to last the winter. None to spare. If we had met their demands ..." she shrugs.

"So, are you refusing our help then? We are to leave your town to suffer the horrors of the veil? Do you speak for all of Yoblora?"

Ognimir leans toward the small window and gazes out.

Quintus recedes into his chair, and into his thoughts. His chin lowers to his chest; he looks like he's dozing, but his eyes are open and vacant, fixed on the floor beneath the table.

The old woman's tale seems impossibly sordid. It is hard for Quail, who fancies himself a man of honor, to imagine that anyone would concoct a scheme at once so elaborate and so vile, let alone the supposed saviors and protectors of all Khelia! And yet Belle seems convinced of the truth of her words. Whom to believe, the former Guardian or their distant benefactors?

Quintus listens with half an ear as the conversation continues.

"Oh, no," Belle asks, "I don't ask you to turn from your duty. Please, let us scourge back our fellow servants of the Order. For the sake of my kin, let's perpetuate the poppet show, though it no longer fools folk here. For the sake of all our kin, carry with you the tale I have told. Maybe if it spreads far, it will bring change." She sighs. "They'll come in the sunset to worry about the cottages, testing the doors and windows with their icy breath. By myself I cannot defeat them, and I would not put my kin to that test. Stand forth with me, and drive them off. And see what becomes of Guardians who serve too long."

"Well, tonight we should patrol the hovels. Top of each hour, then?" Ognimir asks Damir.

"Then in the morrow, we inspect the Veil, to prove this ... rabble-rouser ... wrong. "

Belle directs the guardians to the darkened cottage. It is vacant and seems to have been that way long enough for dust to settle on everything. Fetching wood from the community pile it does not take long to get a warm fire in the hearth.

Night comes. It is cold and dark. Distantly, wolves howl and bark. Do you imagine tones like glass bells in their voices?

Something moves past the cottage window.

Quintus has been lying awake, staring up at the cobwebs and shadows, failing not to think about the old Guardian's words. If she's right, then how can he, in good conscience, serve such venal wizards? And yet they did help the people of Limm, after a fashion. They tracked down a murderer, laid to rest a spirit of vengeance that might otherwise have driven the villagers to madness. Is it sufficient to be a useful cog in a vicious machine?

Restless as he is, it doesn't take Quintus long to note the movement outside. He rises and creeps to the wall by the window. Once there, he seeks a place where the plaster has cracked and peeks through.

There are three of them. Clothed only in tattoos that glow like the Veil. Two men, a woman. Their steps are smooth and steady. Their faces are calm. They walk past the cottage. They hold swords in their hands.

"Harm only those who dare to step outside," says one of the men, the shorter one. The other two nod.

Then they are out of Quintus sight.

...sound asleep under his moth eaten blanket, feet warming near the fire.

Ognimir, after a quick sweep of the village (to get a sense of the environment), stands guard near one of the buildings, his halberd resting on the wall, thick furs over his armor. "Aye, Yoblora is under guardian protection this night. Name yourself and your purpose!" He shouts loud enough for the others to hear.

The three of swords don't answer but they smoothly turn toward Ognimir, raising their weapons and moving to attack!

Well that tears it. Quintus scrambles away from his chink in the wall and over to his meager jumble of equipment. In passing, he gives Danil's shoulder a firm shake.

"Up and to arms, man! Ognimir stands engaged with three assailants! And we..."

Are dawdling, obviously! Quail shoulders his quiver, fits a bolt to his crossbow, then heads for the cottage door. He takes a deep breath and slips outside, hoping to circle behind the strangers confronting Ognimir.

Waking from a dream in which his teeth didn't hurt as he gobbled a fest of sweet pies, Danill rolls over and grabs his sword and shield.

He sees Quintus slip out the back, takes stock from the chink in the wall and grasps his plan. Ognimir will need me more... he thinks as he charges out the front door, shield raised and ready.

Ognimir sweeps his halberd in defensive arcs as the three approach, using the weapon's reach vs those swords.