Suadurix Family/Fys'er

Sir Fys'er

Sir Fys'er Suadurix, and his brother sir Còir Suadurix. Both sailing in their individual boats, towards the island to the east of the isles, by the continent shore line they had set sail from, in search of Boght their father. While sir Fys'er heads to the east shore of the isle, his brother heads for the north western shore of the isle. Splitting up to make the search easier.

Sir Fys'er landed with his boat on shore. Where he went on land for the first time in days. In the first few hours he and his men sat down, and had their first breakfast in days on dry land. From the dunes he saw a man approaching their campsite. The man introduced himself as Robard a scribe, looking for work. “Noble lord? Robard is my name. I'm hungry, and without work. This be the land of Sir Temple, where many know how to write, but few of us find work.” His willingness to work touched Fys'er. “So it is work your looking for? Well, seeing that non of us is from around here, we could do with someone who knows his way around here. Consider your services hired. Sit down and eat with us?”

A new home

Afther having eaten, sir Fys'er and his twenty one men, followed Robard the scribe to Oberndorf region. Two days they traveled to this region. Every town Sir Fys'er passed trough, he observed to the old folk, and the black birds. But no black bird that came and led them to an old lady named Caillagh. All this struck Robard as very strange, and caused him to have doubts about Sir Fys'er. Sir Fys'er eventually told Robard about his mother, and the evil witch that had bewitched his mother and his father. He told Robard how his father Boght was transformed into a blackbird, by his evil mother in law; and how his mother was changed into an old women, so no-one would ever recognize her again. Now Robard understood why his master acted so strange.

A devoted son to his family, Sir Fys'er, who was technically first born. Even though he was born an identical twin to his brother Sir Còir. Sir Fys'er builded as the eldest of the family, his family home. The first thing he did, that day in Oberndorf, was visiting the local notary, in oberndorfs township.

Oberndorf

Oberndorf is a rural region, governed from a township. The castle of the hill overlooked the township below. There where no walls around the administrative center. Only roadgates. The local bailiff was the chief magistrate, for the countess Night Ocean. She resided in the castle that guarded Oberndorf. Robard, Sir Fys'ers scribe, is a rather good scribe, but even so, he could not provide Sir Fys'er with a detailed account, of all the noble lords residing in the realm. Sir Fys'er learned that this strange new land he found himself in, was governed and mainly populate by a halfbreed people. A crossing between fairies, and human kind. They called themselfs Elfs, and claimed to have something like, a grandfather claus. Is this their god? He could not tell. Robard his scribe wasn't able to provide him with an answer to that either. While in the waiting room of the notary, Robard his scribe came running trough the door. Making quite an entrance. “Robard, my scribe? Try make less of a grand entrance? Its unbecoming for a lord to have his servents barge in trough a door, like a battle ram.” Sir Fys'er reprimanded. Not because he felt disappointed. Not the least. But he had to uphold a social status, and a servant coming trough a door like a wild bull, leaves little of an impression on fellow nobles.

Robard apologised, but was to exited to pull a sour face. His first task as a scribe. Sir Fys'er had received a letter from a local lord, by the name of Zypher. Fys'er opened his letter while waiting in the waiting room. Sir Zypher wrote him: “Greetings, Sir Fys'er. Welcome to Sirion, the home of mighty Elves. Although I am not an Elf myself, I must admit this realm is one of fine culture and tradition.

We are currently in the middle of the war with Perdan, a neighbouring realm. If you can find time outside your search for your parents, we would certainly love you to join us.

Good luck in your search. I noticed a lot of black birds in Sirion City. You could try there. Zypher (Knight of Oligarch)”

Sir Fys'er received a warm welcome, and was simultaneously extended an invitation to join them in a war, a war he knew nothing about. “Where is this Perdan?” He asked Robard. But he received contemtious looks from the people in the waiting room. Like he just said something entirely inappropriate. “Sir, Perdan has been these peoples enemy for years. This war has lasted them since as long as anyone can remember. I know not much about it, being to young myself. But I believe you should see Duke Doc Primus. He knows of this realms history. He is considered by many as very wise.” Robard was quite wise himself. For explaining it like that, gave sir Fys'er a chance to safe face with a simple approving nod. People in the waiting room understood now that Sir Fys'er was indeed a foreigner to this land. Before he went in the notary his office sir Fys'er took it one step further. “Oh! Robard? Could you be so kind as to look up for me a blacksmith? On account for some armor.” With a wink he sent Robard on his way, as he himself entered the office space of the notary.

Halfmoon alley

The notary kindly invited him to sit down. “Please, noble lord? In what way can I be of service to your lordship?” The notary humble requested of Sir Fys'er. “I wish to either purchase land, or a house of good quality, and maintenance? Have you such properties for sale?” Sir Fys'er replied. The Notary did draw a a patriotic crowd to his office. There for his next reply would have been no shock to many a folks ear. “Yes, sir! I have many such fine properties for sale. Building land there be enough of here. But loyal subjects to the realm, and our prime minister, are in short supplies here. The trouble is that many their loyalty has been demanded, by ones patriotic duty. But so many are coming here with their foreign gold. Making folk forget who is their liege lord. Have you sworn your oath?” The insult of it! A notary asking a noble, if he has sworn to his liege lord, an oath of fealty. But the notary was a man of influence, and not wanting to spread the seeds of hatred, before he had even bought himself a home, would be foolish. “I have been invited by her ladyship, to swear my oath of fealty to her. This when her ladyship has the time to receive me as well. I wish not to press on the matter, but have urged her ladyship to accept me at her convenience. Further more, I believe it to be proper if I had a home first. To be able, to show myself more presentable to her ladyship.” His words disarmed the hard right comments of the notary. This man, Fys'er feld, he should better keep his guard up, while around him and his kind.

When Fys'er concluded his business, with the notary, he returned outside with the key's to his new home. Kindly provided by the notary. More like in the sense of good riddance. Robard met with Fys'er outside the Notary. “Your lordship? I have found a kind blacksmith willing to make you an armor. I took the liberty of asking him if it could be made on downpayment.” Fys'er looked fulfilled at his scribe. “That was very considerate of you sir Robard. I just bought the family a house downtown here in Oberndorf. It cost my family fortune a two hundred gold pieces. But the notary said, if its well cared for, I will be able to get a hundred gold pieces back for it, when I move. This limiting the costs to buy a new house. I have to be careful with our gold. My brother and sister depend on this gold. Its all mother and father left us, including what gold the duke added to this wealth. We have only 950 gold left.” Robard and sir Fys'er walked down the small mainstreet talking. While the gentle tapping of horse hoofs passed them by. From the carts to the coaches. They crossed over into an alley, called Night Moon alley. It was called that because it had a curve shape like a half moon. In this alley peddlers where selling their wares everywhere. Shops beautifully brightend the street up, with a certain romance about it. The alley was home to many a peoples business. Soon sir Fys'er realised that his house was in a small side alley, additional to this alley, and going no where. A death end alley, called appropriately, Night Moons Heart. It was clear that the notary tried to give him a run for his money; quite literately then. But this could not have gotten quite more suitable for sir Fys'er, as he and his family where born from a artisan merchant. This sort of a street is where he got born in.

Sweet memories

Fys'er stood before his house, and looked around him. The alley would be quite dark at night. But how would it look on the inside of the house? He stuck the key, in the keyhole. The key turned smoothly in its keyhole. This was it! Days at sea, a youth in a castle, and a young but shortlived happiness in a home, just like this one, but with his mom cooking her brew, and the house smelling of herbs, and potions. His mother being a good witch, never quited her ancient art. His father after a hard days work, in the comfortable chair by the table. Ah the rascals they where. Him and his brother. Oh, his father Boght, enjoyed every minute of the attention his children gave him. His sisters drawings for her dad, his brother and him having made a total mess of things again. Those where their good days. The days before the evil witch, took it all away from them. She paid for it with her life. But the harm was done. His mother told them always, “What goes out of you, will return tree fold back on to you!” His evil grandmother did pay the threefold for her crimes. This house shall be the tree fold for his mom and dad, when he finds them.

As he stands there in his trance, feeling the key to his home; a sudden shake of his shoulder brings him back out of his trance. “Sir? Sir, snap out of it sir? You have been standing about here for like a whole quarter of an hour, sir.” It was Robards hand that had given his shoulder a shake. He felt like entering and saying, “Mom, I'm home!” But he could not. He stood there in the living of his house. The room was empty, the fireplace had no wood in it, and had not been cleaned since the former owners had left. But Fys'er could look beyond all the dust, and sud. He saw the warm scene of his childhood memories reappear before him. His fathers comfortable chair by the fireplace, with the one of his mother on the opposite side. The round floor rug they played on as kids. The corner where the living room table stood. The cupboards with their bottle glass windows for the cups, and under them the shelves for the dinner plates. The draws for the spones, and the doors bellow; with behind it the table linen shelves. The book shelves of fathers books. And his favorite, the small toy closet fitting nicely under the window. The tree of the old Beltaine feast his mother celebrated. With the gifts, the food, and the friends. A feast of love, compassion, a feast in honor of the good god, his mom worshiped.

The old lady

The snow at winter would make Oberndorf beautiful. The windows had to be cleaned also. But he could make it a heavonly place to return to. He went into the citchen trough a door in a corner by the fire. It was a little of center, from where his parents house had the door to the kitchen. But it did not matter. The kitchen had a nice kitchen table. Some filth on it. But he looked past all that. He saw only his memories of his mother preparing food. The fire over witch the cauldron hung, in witch she boiled the soup, did the laundry, and brew her potions. “This place is filthy! Full of dirt! AND... It stinks! If you don't mind me saying so?” Tried Robard politely. But it remained cruel to say. Fys'er ignored Robards comments. “Robard, this place suits me just fine. Run to the castle and make me an appointment to see the countess. When asked, say that sir Fys'er wishes to make his oath of fealty, to her ladyship. If she is not in the region, write her a letter, requesting an audience with her ladyship.” Fys'er saw Robard out, and as he did so, he saw an old lady by his house staring home sick at it. He walked out of his house, to the old lady, and kindly asked. “Mother? Is your name Caillagh?” A bit confused she looked up, and replied. “Son, I have not been called mother, because I have never had any children. My name is not Caillagh. I was servant to the former master of this house hold. When I was dismissed by the former master, and the house was put out for sale. The notary did not find me any useful at all. So I lived on the streets, and made a living sewing other peoples clothes. While my husband made his living fixing stuff for people. I saw you gentlemen walking towards the house, and had hoped for a position within this house?” If not the appearance of the old lady, then it would have been her suffering, that made him pity her. So he accepted her as cook, and household manager. Her husband he ask her to bring over to. She did not doubt it for a second, and went of to fetch him right away.

Meanwhile Robard returned from his errand, with some rather disappointing news. When he arrived at the castle, the guard of the castle gates told him that her ladyship, had been packing her things, and had just an hour earlier left for neighbouring Tabost region. Robard also told him that Fys'er better get his things together also, for the army is to be assembled at once in Oligarch city. While Robard made his report to sir Fys'er, the old lady had returned with her husband. She introduced herself as Clare, and her husband Charles. Again the family trick of not knowing the language, so they can alter a given name into a name in their mothers language, was implemented. He therefor called the old lady, Aunty Sorcha; and the old man as, Father Tearlach.

“Who are they?” Robard asked. “Ah, the end to the bad smell, and the birth of cleanliness. Robard, meet Aunt Sorcha, and father Tearlach. They will be living with us. Our young legs will cary us to the top floor, take the 1st floor bedroom?” With that said, he turned to Roabrd and told him to send a request to her ladyship, instead of a request in person. Robard went of to it, while sir Fys'er went to see a carpenter for some furniture, and rug guild for some rugs.

My fair lady? Where are thou at?

Not very hard, as the stores where just outside the alley. By the time he had done his shopping, Robard had finished the written request. While at home awaiting his approval, and his sealing. Sir Fys'er made an other short stop on the road. He stopped and the blacksmith, to have his measurements taken for his armor. “Your ladyship, Countess of Oberndorf. Lady night Ocean.

With these, my writing, I wish to inform your ladyship, of my disposition towards your ladyships position as my liege. I have not yet been able to make my oath of allegiance, to your ladyship. I am most grateful, to be so rapidly accepted into your ladyships trust and confidence. As a loyal knight to your ladyship, I wish to make it know before god, and the world, that your ladyship holds me in her service.

At your convenience, please make good of my time, to call on me for my oath to be made before thee? Your servant, my lady.” As such Robard had written the request to her ladyship, as such it was sir Fys'er approved and sealed it.

Sir Fys'er knew that if he wanted to become a respected member of society, he had to make to most out of every opportunity, to prove him a trustworthy knight of Oberndorf. So that they he gathered what armor and weapons he had, and left with his men for the city of Oligarch.

The short trip

Four hours after leaving he arrived in Oligarch city. Just in time to get him a room at the inn, and have himself a good nights rest. The next morning he decides to go out in town and explore the city. Socializing with the people and listing to their myths and legends.

By nightfall he returned to his room in the inn. He took his lunch inside the inn. He looked forward to a peaceful night and going to bed early. He had not heard anything from anyone. Not on his mother and father, and nothing from his liege. That night he went to bed early.

The next day he walks trough the streets of Oligarch sightseeing. He walks to the bank of Sirion. There he has from his family gold, gold send to his brother and sister to help them in their careers. When he leaves the bank, Robard joins him with orders from the ministry of defence. He is to move his unit to Bruck. At once.

The letter

He gathers his soldiers, and sets out for that region called Bruck. “Eh? Robard... In which direction lies this Bruck?” Robard laughs friendly, and points his lord in the direction of Bruck.

By morning they arrived in Bruck a rural region of Old Rancagua. As he enters one of the regional villages, his medallion suddenly begins to glow. With the first rays of light coming from behind the eastern forest, he suddenly sees twenty four stars shooting across the morning sky. “Twenty four brave souls, just joined the spirits. My sister is now without a unit. They all died bravely in battle.” Sir Fys'ers name isn't for nothing in his mothers language, 'Insight', for sir Fys'er has an incredible insight in many things. He knew right away that his sister had suffered a great loss. But sir Fys'er is confident that the good god of his mother is looking after them. He kneels down in prayer for his sister's men, who died gloriously in battle. Then suddenly a black bird lands on his shoulder. It looks like a real bird, turning its head to get a good glimpse of him. “kra kra kra kra” The bird goes, and it flies due south. Is it a sing? Sure it was! Fys'er knew it wasn't its father, but realised it was a sign of the good god. The sign told him his sister had found out where his mothers journey began, but the bird showed that she somehow ended up down south of EC island. Could it be his mother was in the south? The birds exact course, Robard explained to him; would take him straight to Perdan. This took him his breath away. “Why Perdan? The good gods ways are truly mysterious.” He said mumbling. He goes straight to the mansion of the local lord, to ask of him to relay a letter from him to his brother sir Còir.

They come by a huge fortress, overlooking a small township. It had no walls, for the fort was so huge, that they could fire from it straight down on their enemies. Before you could enter the huge castle you had to make your way uphill. For pedestrians there was a staircase in the rockface. They climbed those stairs for an whole half hour. Soaked in sweat they are received at the gate house. Behind it layed a huge draw bridge and a hundred meter drop straight down.

They asked the guard at the gate if the steward of the castle lord was in, or if the lord was in himself. “The count is not at home now. He has gone with the king to war across the sea. The steward of his household you can find inside.” “But the king is here? I heard of his leaving for a place called Gadlock...” “Like I said my lord, the count has gone with the king to fight overseas.” He dared not to say much more. He need to get his letter send trough to his brother. “Are you the steward of the counts household?” he asked a man coming into the courtyard from the main building. “Yes I am his lordships steward. What can I do for you?” “I need to send him a request?” “That is his lordships scribe! Right there! He is about to leave with his masters daily region reports. Give him what request you have for our lord the count.” “Many thanks.” Sir Fys'er runs to the scribe. “Scribe? I have a request for your lordship, can you carry it for me to him?” “Sure sir, but make haste, I have to get these reports to his lordship before dark.” Robard hands the Scribe the request.

Westmoor

Afther having read to omens, sir Fys'er is in a hury to get to a nearby citty and find out more about the south. Robard tells him to head to Westmoor. It used to be a part of Perdan. There should be in the archives some documents remaining from its days as a part in the realm of Perdan. Sir Fys'er sets of for Westmoor right away.

Spending the day going trough the book stores, and printers offices, Robard and sir Fys'er find nothing on ancient Westmoorian history. The people just don't like those old wounds opened back up. With its impressive tree story high walls and huge towers, it belongs to the realm of Fontan, where freedom of oppinion is sacred. But in Westmoor people are so sensetive about it, that sir Fys'er thaught it wise not to ask more about Perdan in a citty wich is sensetive about all of this, understandably due to the frontline being only miles outside of their citty gates. Sir Fys'er received one letter and a pare of orders. A letter had arrived from count Jean-Luc from Bruck. A good man who favors Sirionite travelers, and often invites them to stay over at his keep as his guests. An impressive castle. Count Jean-Luc wrote him to say that he had the letter passed on to sir Còir, sir Fys'ers brother residing in Old Rancagua. It gladens his heart. But what made him even more glad, are his orders. His orders told him to take his unit into the border lands. He knew that there his first battle would be waged. But he hoped he could establish contact with some of Perdans more tolerant nobles.

Bescanon

As Orderd he contineus his journey to Bescanon from Troyes. Under command of the Fontanese army. Afther having had breakfast in Troyes. A region clearly marked by the long war that waged here. Many of the villages where now souly populated by old folk. The young had all died during the long war.

Reaching Bescanon region, sir Fys'er is witness to the sight of two huge armies camped out on striking distance of eachother. There is a village nearby. The castle is over on the other side of the field. Sir Fys'er has his men build up defences around their campsite. He has guards posted and goes to sleep. Expecting an early rise for battle the next morning.

The revolt

That night patroles went trough the camp frequently, as the nearby village remained hostile and angry afther days of looting. The villagers constructed palisades by dawn. The army was called on before the peasnats could get awake and organised for battle. They where totaly taken by surprise. But still managed to get their pitchforks and makeshift armor and weapons for battle. Even in fairness the peasants had all right to be upset. Still the battle went quite horrible for sir Fys'er. He lost one of his soldiers at the palisades. His men cried out for justice. Poetic justice in sir Fys'ers eyes. Still afther the battle he consented in his solders wish to hunt the killers down. Knowing full well that blood brings only fourth only more blood. He goes to his camp and spends the night there with Robard, playing cards and some chess. Then they went of to bed early. But slept close togheter, with their swords by their sides.

This morning he awoke, as one of his men fell ill due to a shortage of food. Serious hunger strikes all his men. With the peasant revolt, his men are going into a depression, and with all the looting, and the revolting peasants around, hardly any food reaches them. A serious situation getting out of hand.

Battles today where waged against baricades in the streets and on the roads. It was a slaughter. Sir Fys'er gave his men a rest. But he knows little can lift their spirrits. This was pure horror of war. How was he ever going to be able to talk to people about his search. Getting answers.

He had a good hunch that all the evidence would keep pointing out to Perdan. His brother and sister would find stuff on their parrents, but it would all lead to one place in the end. Predan! Its so obvious to him.

He went to bed that night thinking about these things. His mother would be in a emotional state. Their new lifestyle not being fully adapted to by them. They would soon end in conflict over at the first realm they ended in. Then she would find her banned for some reason, she would end in an other realm. Same adjustment problems. But it would keep haunting them. Untill they finally adapt to their situation, and blend in or vanish in sociaty. They could not search for an old lady, they had to search for Boght. Their father was not going to stop searching for them eighter. But would never leave the location of their mother. The black birds would guard her. But Boght would try to save them from the curse. Perdan would be the only place they could had ended up in.

It is the east islands that are closesth to the mainland. That means the the land from where they came are in fact so close to far east and east island that their mother must have drifted on the same current, and ended on the same land as they did. If she had been there, they would had known by now. No its south of east island they had to search. As their sister was the first to sight land. She would be in their mothers first realm. From where she would most probably have been deported. This would had been East island. She being pennyless, they would not have offerd her a choice but have gone with the cheapest deportation. Then she would be in East Island. Probably stranding north, and ending in conflict all over, but running south this time to escape persecution, she would be hiding in the old south. Fearing the north. Or at least that is his hypothesis in this case. He fell asleep. All that poundering finally did get him to sleep that night. Even when it was with his sword by his side, in a most uncomfortable field tent.

Witty Perdan

By morning, the peasantry was at it all over again. This time they had them fighting out in the fields. Weird, simply because you could knock them over so easy. Sir Fys'ers soldiers where realy unhappy with this kind of battles. They spoke ill of the command structure in the army of the alliance.

But when the sun came to set, sir Fys'ers men became realy upset. “Mylord, jack command has called the army to rally again! Those brave souls here are at it again.” But Sir Fys'er hardly listends. Hushing his soldier. Then he shouts. “Good God! That is IT!” The soldier looks a bit shooked up. Sir Fys'er sees his soldiers look on his face. “Dont you get it? All this time these peasants have been taking our attention away from what is realy going on here! Look at the castle? They have been rather silent over there havent they!” His soldiers here him, frightend as they are about what he is trieng to say here. Just as he tried to say it, a lieutenant of the general arrived calling them to rally at the field outside the castle for battle. The army of perdan had arrived. “See I was right to suspect that something fishy was going on here. All this time these brave peasants have been fighting us in massive numbers. Never expecting a victory, but real voluntarly taking this brave innitiative. Its brilliant! Their plan was simple. They would distract our army and our commanders. We used all we had to brake trough their palisades. But they did not repair them. They just filled the gaps with baricades of turned over wagons and stones. Each time we got into the village and battled them there. Then we moved back from the walls and lured the peasants into facing us in the field. We won battles there to. But every time they where just diverting our attention away, from the huge army that was massing on the other side of the castle. They where preparing a counter stirke, while the peasantry gave their realm a brave and noble suport. It is brilliant.

Alright men, gather as orderd for battles, same line settings as before!”

Worried, but fulfilled of a sense of duty, he marched into battle. Totally uncomfortable with the prospects of this battle. But it is a soldier and a knights duty to march into battle even the one's theyknow they are going to lose, or die in. For king and country you could say. Duty, is a better reason for battle then passion. In realms their wars - from a knight or soldiers duty, patriotism gets born, from their passion, greed and cruelty is born.

The first taste of battle

Sir Fys'er realised how good that tactic of the peasants worked, and implemented this tactic all over again. While all the rest of the army took up their positions. Only few stayed over at the campsite. Sir Fys'er remained with his men behind their camp fortifications. Up front he would hear men scream, and swords clashing. Cavalry horses where heard all the way to the rear. “A prelude to a comming attraction.” With all their sarcasm Sir Fys'er did not think it to be wise to move them foreward. Even with his common sense telling him that as one they stould stronger in the army. But knowing his mens state of ming, they would rather run then fight. So he kept them still behind their defences even with the cavalry comming. “Set up Lances!” Sir Fys'er prepared himself for the cavalry their attack. It looked like a Titlewave of men and horses comming their way. Scary! But suddenly a change in their fortune. The cavalry vanished behind their infantry. And at last Sir Fys'er saw a glimp of courage in his men. So he orderd them to advance on the enemy and line up with the rest of the troops. A good thing to as the enemy overruns the two units infornt of his. He backs them up, striking eighty enemy soldiers down. But to no avail, in no time they get overun to. Thirteen of his men died, and two of his men got wounded.

The soldier with the wise cracks run up to him. “Sir, you got to fall back sir!” “Alright Pick up the wounded and fall back! Head for the forrest!” They pick up their wounded and run as fast as they can.

Robard his scribe is glad to see him get out of theis battle unharmed. “This was such a waste of men and material sir!” Robard gave him the facts cold and unsensured. “Robard I lost thirteen good men of me who where with me since that day I have set sail from the mainland in search for Boght my father. Will you risk taking a request to the nobles of Perdan?” Robard thinks long before he answers. By eventualy walks up to Sir Fys'er with his answer while Sir Fys'er was tending to his mens wounds. “Sir, I know what you risked comming, here, lot of your men died today, comming here to serve in the search for your father, and what happend to your mother. Yes I will help you! Give me the request I am to cary to them and I shall deliver it to them?” Sir Fys'er nods, and hands him the blood coverd request. Sir Robard sets off for the nemey camps, holding a banner of truce.

The request

“Lords of Perdan. This request sounds strange. But I wish to request of you just a moment of your attention for my perticular perdicament.

Im Sir Fys'er son of Boght. My father and mother where bewitched by my fathers evil mother in law. She turned my father and the bailifs guards into black birds. Nineteen black birds. My mother she had turned into an old lady, so no one could recorgnise her. Moms evil mother was hoping no one would notice her daughter as she tried to abduct her from the citty. Mom fled to land and got shipwrecked on the far east island. But in a turn of events, she got deported to east continent. Where she lived in Old Ranc for a while. But I know she fled the north. As she undoubtably, wouldnt be able to escape the curse placed on her, and consiquentlaly she I am sure off fled south. To escape pursecution. She must have ended in Perdan. I beleive, she might be found here in the south. I would not expect I reply, but if you would reply, you can reply directly to me. I have no other choice then to withdraw to Sirion citty and recruite all over again.”

Sir Fys'ers request was shallow. But he did reach someone with his request. A Perdanese lord replied his request with a letter.

“What exactly is it that you are asking? Kerwyn Count of Beziers”

He wrote him a letter and had the reply send back with the messenger who deliverd the message. “Sir Kerwyn,

I realise I was some what shallow with my information. But I feared the consequences this public request before you all might have. A noble lord is not suposed to be acting this way. These consequences I took on gladly.

I wanted to wait for a reply like yours before asking more. What I want to know is if you would like to seek in your realms archives to see if there are any traces of a trail, or report of a old lady by the name of Caillagh, accompanied by a guard of 19 black birds. This discription is all I can give. I need to know where she is or what happend to her. I beleive she lives in your realm. Or used to live there. What I need to know is what happend to her?

Thank you for what assistance you might give, and for the readyness to give assistance. This might be real old information. Like 9 to 5 years ago.”

Fishing behind the net

He did not receive any replies again to that request. He also couldnt stay for n other battle. His remaining soldiers where carieng on stretchers his two wounded soldiers home. The spring rains had halted. Muddy roads made travels slow at first, but afther a day of dry weather his travels speeded up and he was in Westmoor before it got to dark. As soon as he arrived he had healers take a look at his men. But they had died during the day. Nothing could save them. Robard was clearly upset by this, as he lost his lunch from that noon.

They did not stay long. This evening they had their two buddies allong with the 13 oters repatriated to their family. Now the heavy burden fell on Sir Fys'er to notify the families. He took a room at the inn in west moor to sleep there that night, and have his letters written and send to his soldiers relatives. Early in the morning he would contineu to Bruck.

He travels the whole day, and makes it late that night in Oberndorf. He arrives at his home in Oberndorf and directly takes of all his armor off. His bath is prepared and that night he enjoys a good bath before going straight to bed. Aunt Sorcha prepares him some food and brings it to the bathroom. With it she brings him his brothers letter. Behind the screens she tells him his brother has been at the door while he was out. There afther she left the room. He doesnt intend to read his brothers letter untill tomorow when he had a good sleep first. Afther his bath he went straight to his bed, placing his brothers letter on the table.

Some news at last

Upon the first rays of light caressing his face sir Fys'er awoke gently. Listening to the birds song outside, he rose in his bed. Seated upright in his bed he took his brothers letter and read it.

“Dear brother Fys'er,

In my first day I left an lasting impression on the Caquetta population. They appreciated the sacrefice my soldiers made for them. I baught a house there, and swoar an oath of fealty to Lady Shina. This region became quite famous for its cookies. Its their main exported product, and also the pillar on wich their economy rests in Caquetta. About 60% of all workers have found a job in the cookie industry. Lady Shina has done a great job on their economy. Sadly those monsters that plague them are drawn to the fame of this cookie industry. Lady Shian thinks it is to steal her cookies. I think its to steal the recepy, that monsters attack Caquetta so frequently. By selling it to the compettition lady Shina and Caquetta would just loose their monopoly in the cookie industry. It could be they are send by the compettition. But it might be that they just figured that if they sell it to all her compettitors that they will ruinate her and get alot of money in the process. Even a child can come up with a plot like that.

Enough about Caquetta. I have send a letter to our sister. I heard news from her. Not directly! But trough a Sailor I learned that she lives in Sartania realm. She arrived in Niel citty where mom shipwrecked. Mom became a myth there. It is weird. But sister will find out more about her. I asked in my letter that she could tell us what she knows.

I also heard of the battle. The sailor told me it took place in Seax, before he shipped out. She is alright but her guards are all death.

I was down to nineteen men, but have now double that number. I hope they shall survive. There are alot of conflicts in this realm. Even among nobles. A short while ago I was invited to the kings pallace for a dinner. I faught at his side during my first battle in Caquetta. He became quite interested in me. When he heard of our mother and fathers story, he wanted to hear more. A fiesty lady by the name of Ragnel, had criticism on everything I said. She didnt beleive much of our parents story. But the king was quite interested. I think I can count on his highness in our search, brother. Its not taken quite lightly here. They argue about everything, allways making a big deal out of the smallest of things.

I have to make this letter short. Orders are comming in, and fines are handed out to those failing to move as orderd. Good luck bro, see you hopefully next time when im around Oberndorf.

Your brother, Sir Còir, kinght of Caquetta.”

New recruits

Sir Fys'er went downstairs and had breakfast. There after he left for Sirion citty with his small company of men. Intended to recruite more troops.

All that traveling. The whole day long they where on the road. While yesterday they had just left and the next day they where still walking. With only a few hours for sleeping. Hungry and with such low morals they stubled in a town with such furosious hunger that they feld like eating a whole cow. Sir Fys'er knew how to lift their spirrits. He baught them food and drinks and gave them 4 hours before bed time to spend on drinking. That night they where so drunk they fell asleep without any effort at all. If only no assasin would lurk about. Sir Fys'er took his sword to bed to be sure.

In the early morning Sir Fys'er arrived in Sirion. He recruited thirty four men payed and fixed up his unit, got seige engines, banner and healers, and then he got on the road to Trinbar region. By nightfall he arrived in Trinbar, where he recruited four scouts. Now his unit was readier then ever before for battle. Happy he contineus travels to Oberndorf.

Sessesion!

By dawn his journey becomes less happy. Robard delivers him orders from the council ordering him to Oberndorf to prevent the region from falling into a civil war. How can this be? The answer is clear to him. Lady Nighshade exorsized little controle. Her region sufferd under corrupt officials. The notary, the cruelty of the Bailiff. There is alot going on. When A lord or lady is not strick on enforcing their authority on their region, it falls to the corrupt. Sir Fys'er huries home.

By night he arrives and finds a troop leader from Caligus sturing up the people. His troops go on a rampage trough the citty. The army is fast to intercept this warlord. During the night a battle takes place again in Oberndorf. Sir Fys'er has his troops hunting the Caligusian Warlord down. Tonight he sleeps at home. This morning he awakes only to the news that the warlord has vanished. He orders his men to work on the region, and build up their camp. That evening he gives his men some time off to spend on relaxing and drinking.

Sir Fys'er spended the day at home, sending his men out to sweep the streets and help the townsfolk fixing up their town. His men where quite grumpy about it. But somehow they did like the rewarding time of they received each time perking them up a little every time.

Sir Fys'er was woried about the state the region was in. Not having been able to talk to her ladyship his liege lady, he turns to the one man he beleives has enough insight in this region to be able to provide him a status on the region. The notary. Then notary only comfirmed his worst fears. The notary had already been switching his loyalties, as he is a hard right extremist. He sensed that he wanted him out of the office as soon as possible. In the waiting room he saw a hat and cain of a local. It was fashioned as a guild masters cain, and could not suport a mans wait. Leading to the conclusion of Sir Fys'ers inquisitive mind, that the owner must have been a gail master. From the look of the hat, it must have been one of the more prestigious guilds. Only the postmens guildmaster could afford such a hat. As the other prestigious guilds where the wood carvers guild, the fishers guild, the masons guild, the smiths guild, and the leather crafts guilds. But the inkt stains on the hats collour from a postoffice clerks fingers or the guild masters fingers shows signs of the obvious writing skills of the owner. There for he concluded that the owner did his own writing. The cain itself also had a little light yellow rope on it, wich its distinctive braiding made it the miniature version of the post hoorn used by the postmen to anounce their arrival with the mail. The notary moved himself conspicuously infront off the door leading to his private chambers. He clearly hided the secret asembly from been discovered by sir Fys'er.

Having left within a friendly way, he went and had his scribe write up a status report of Oberndorf right away to the realms council. The region clearly was preparing for a sessesion led by its artisans, merchants and craft guilds. The notary his house was where the meeting took place.

A Queen in exile

He had his men work in the region. Helping the townsfolk, and the villages around it. He hoped that Robards messenger got the word out to the council as fast as possible.

This morning Oberndorf had not fallen, it looked like he jumped to early to conclusions. Not a bad thing as he is an inexperianced youth. A lady turned up in Oberndorf with a young boy. Mother and child. Her name was Ragnel and she came from Old Rancagua. She fancied the Night Moon alley. Not bad as its a shopping alley shaped like a half moon. He had heard from his brother of this lady. It was in his letter. Afther hearing about lady Ragnel, aunt Sorcha pointed out the lady with her kid. The boy ran afther his ball into the Night Moons Haert alley where sir Fys'ers house stould. His mother caled afther him, and he ran swiftly back to her. Aunt Sorcha told him that this was lady Ragnel.

He took his brothers letter out and read that part he recalled reading about her. “...There are alot of conflicts in this realm. Even among nobles. A short while ago I was invited to the kings pallace for a dinner. I faught at his side during my first battle in Caquetta. He became quite interested in me. When he heard of our mother and fathers story, he wanted to hear more. A fiesty lady by the name of Ragnel, had criticism on everything I said. She didnt beleive much of our parents story. But the king was quite interested. ...”

He walks out of his house and calls out to her in friendly tone of voice. “Lady Ragnel I presume? Hi! My lady?” bows “My name is Fys'er, Sir Fys'er. A humble knight of Oberndorf. May I bid your ladyship welcome to Oberndorf and Sirion. Offcourse I extend to you young lord my warmest welcome as well. May I allso extend my hospitallity on to your ladyship? If your ladyship has no prior lodging arangements. My humble house would be honored to provide lodgings to your ladyship and his young lordship.”

He looks at her and recalls not having told her where he knew her from. “My appologies your ladyship, I have not met you before, but your ladyship has been acquainted before with my brother Sir Còir knight of Caquetta. He wrote about your ladyship at the dinner with his majesty King Dekion of Old Rancagua.

I recall my brother refering to you as the 'fiesty lady' for your heavy criticism on King Dekions policies. I dont know what it was about. I heard something of Hedgehogs. But I doubt gardening was what his majesties policy is all about.

Im soon going to be called out of Oberndorf with everything being back to as normal as it could be. With the low population numbers and all.

Can I interest your ladyship in tea and light refreshments? Afther your shopping perhapse? No obligations offcourse. But I would be honored to serve you at the very least tea and light refreshments.”

As she walked through Night Moon Alley, Ragnell remembers those days before Elros was born, just before the battle in Avamar. Fuinur had given her all the gold she wanted to spend at Sirion City, and that was where she acquired all her royal clothes and some of Elros's baby toys. She walked through the alley, just staring at the things she could not buy; things a Queen deserved. And she was still a queen, even if only a Beauty Queen.

She was lost in thought when she was interrupted by a knight.

“My name is Fys'er, Sir Fys'er. A humble knight of Oberndorf. May I bid your ladyship welcome to Oberndorf and Sirion. Offcourse I extend to you young lord my warmest welcome as well. May I allso extend my hospitallity on to your ladyship? If your ladyship has no prior lodging arangements. My humble house would be honored to provide lodgings to your ladyship and his young lordship.”

Ragnell is surprised. She missed being treated like the lady she was. She has been called a criminal, a traitor, a rebel, a mad woman. She did not expect any man to talk to her using kind words.

Not even Fuinur. Not anymore.

Sir Fys'er mentioned his brother Còir.

"Yes, of course," Ragnell answered, as she remembered that dinner with Sir Dekion. She had been naive enough to believe Dekion was seeking a reconciliation, only to later realize how stupid her trusting heart has always been. So then she added, paranoically, "as long as you don't plan to use whatever I say against me."

The host

Lady Ragnel had accepted his invitation. Father Tearlach went to collect the lugage of lady Ragnel. Wich was not much. She was clearly down to her last bit of gold. A former Queen, now a lady within serious poverty. She had never learned to live the peasant life. To reduce her rank in life to that of a peasant would be suicide.

The young boy clearly was drawn to the cookie jar and the fruit bowl. He had not eaten a single bite of food since they where exiled. Hungry eyes gazed upon the table. But he waited for his mothers permition. Aunty Sorcha got to it first. “Oh you poor dear! You are simply famished. Take some of that wait of of your feet.” She said turning to Lady Ragnel. “Here you go young sir, have some fruit. But dont eat your fill yet. Im gona cook you and your mommy a dinner fit for a king.” Sir Fys'er carried her bags up to the third floor. He placed them inside the room. In the room was a comfortable oak bed with curtains of lace and silk. The wall had a familly portrait on it. Behind the bed stould a trunk. There was a closeth also. In the other end of the room stould a table with a bowl and jar for freshing one self up in the morning. A linnen cabinet stould under the window. In the other room everything was pritty much the same. He got an other trunk from the attic. In the trunk where toys. He placed it by the window. Only in the room of Lady Ragnels son was a fire place. He knew it could be dangerous for the childs safety. But if the young boy was to be given proper room to play, he had to have enough room to do that in, in peace.

He had in the badroom the fire going to boil some water so lady Ragnel could have a bath, and the young boy later to. He brought down some water toys, and place some more towls around the bath tub to keep the water from dripping into the citchen from the sealing.

When that was done he came back down. There was Sorcha setting the table with Lady Ragnel and her sons help. “Afther dinner my lady, I would like if you dont mind to give you the time to take a bath, and allow you some time to get settled. Sorcha will take your dress and fix it up.”

Afther dinner he Showed lady Ragnel to her room, and her sons room. While she got to her bath. Sorcha went to fix her dress. He left Sorcha with some money, so she could fix up the damaged dress and make also a brand new one for lady Ragnel, and Ragnels son.

The next morning Lady Ragnel had send out a request for a location where she could buy scouts. “My Lady, you can find scouts in Trinbar.” Sir Fys'er said during that mornings breakfast. Afther breakfast he wasnt seen untill noon that day, for lunch. He was training his men 4 hours in the morning and again 4 hours in the afthernoon. “Lady Ragnel. I hope you will not mind my absense but I have to go to Oligarch citty on banking business. I do hope you will remain my guest here at my house in my absense. It is no trouble at all. Your welcome to remain my guest as long as you like.” He was thinking while saying this at the evening dinner, that he would love to have her as his guest untill next spring and longer. He had given her son a room with fireplace so he can play in his room by the fireplace during the winter months. Even thoh it was still spring. Afther dinner he left for Oligarch city to cash in his bonds.

Go nuts

Afther a four hour journey to Oligarch citty from Oberndorf, sir Fys'er arrived in the death of night. He made camp outside the citty gates. There he slept untill dawn awoke him. He got his unit up on their feet and marched them straight into the citty. When he got to the 'first national bank' of Oligarch citty, he hears the alarm bell of the citty ringing. Sir Fys'er orderd his men to take only what they needed for battle and leave the rest. Then they headed to the battlements. By the time the arrived there they saw the citty gates open and several units marching out to face the attackers. It where a small unit of madmen dressed like they where some monster. They had hardly any armor on. But they thirsted for meat. Human meat. With all the starvations in the world these people resulted into dropping their humanity and going of eating human flesh to live. They where so insane that they attack villages at random just to kill and eat their fill on the villagers flesh. When these monsters face with the army, battle is unavoidable. They lust human flesh so much they care not about the manner in wich they would get it, as long as they got themself some human for lunch.

Sorcha had a townscribe send him a message reporting that Lady Ragnel had vanished without a trace. She and her son where gone.

While in Oligarch citty he heard of the news in the battle of Meuse. Yet an other hero of this realm had fallen in combat. Yet an other death. This man faught hard for his realm people said. The hero Makaz had fallen in battle, and was going to be repatriated to Sirion for a grand funeral. He has alot of people admire his courage, and legend. Sir Fys'er rests himself along side the main street of Oligarch citty. As he wonders about those who died in battle. Wondering about peace on these war struck islands. Surely the mainland is far more peacefullier.

This evening he went to the bank before closing hour, and cashed in his bonds. He paid his men, had their damages repaired, and paid for a trip to visit a beer brewery. Drunk his men went to bed, and he took lodgings in a local inn.

This morning sir Fys'er spended the day ballancing his books. Making sure all his bills where paid, and that hewasnt behind on any payments what so ever. By nightfall the rally call sounds trough the citty again. Again he found himself marching to the citty defences.

The rally

He decides that night to aid a different rally call with his troops. He set out for Bescanon. Here he found his time only wasted. He could find out more evidence out there. Bescanon was in allied hands, and this provided him a unique oppertunity to take a look inside the archives. Hopefully the perdanese government officials left in such a hurry that they only distroyed what would harm the immediate future of Perdan. If this where so, he could finaly get his hands on some real good evidence.

The whole day his men marched to reach Westmoor citty. His four scouts up front on horse back. With Robard and himself on horse back accompanieng them. One scout allways riding out to check the road ahead. Behind him two standard bearers followed by eight infantry men carrieng their lances. Behind them where the two wagon trails with the seige equipment on. Pullend by horses, and kept moving by ten soldiers, and guarded by yet onother ten soldiers with shield and sword. Behind thos walked the two healers followed by the bagage train of donkeys, washer wemon and nine soldierswalking as rearguard to protect them. Carieng only their swords and a light shield on their backs. Two of them drove the wagons with the equipment in them for the battle. One other walked upfront of the bagage train, while the bagage train had tree men walking on each side of it as protection.

Sir Fys'er took no risks with all these monsters around. He made it south without resting the night at westmoor. He knew from his ordes that Bescanon might just fall to the realms enemy once more all over again. Spoiling every chance he had to get some information out of their secret archives. He plans to head for Troyes and then hope there is no order to retreat given. He would head out to Bescanon as soon as he received his orders.

The secret archieve case

This morning sir Fys'er orderd his troops to move out to Bescanon. The army was facing an army of more then twenty thousand men strong. All available troops in the neighbouring regions of Bescanon where to head back into Bescanon. That evening in Bescanon a battle took place between two huge armies. Twenty two thousand enemy soldiers face twenty six thousand soldiers of the Fontan Alliance. By dawn Sir Fys'er hopes to arrive in Bescanon.

By dawn he arrives in Bescanon. He sees alot of Perdanese troops in the region. He realises that these troops could mean trouble for him on his search. He pays his unit, and sends them out to hunt for the retreated enemy troops. He himself goes out with Robard to search for the hidden archives of Bescanon. “Where are we going to start sir Fys'er?” “No Robard, we start our search at the most obvious place for the archive to be.” They walk into town. “Imagine if you where in the enemies shoes where would you hide your secrets?” “At the last place where the enemy goes looking for them.” “Correct! But a place so well hidden, you wouldnt have time to vissit when your run out of town in such a haste. That means your gona return for it later and remove in under the enemy his nose, while they are to bizzy hunting down your soldiers.” “I see! So the attack is just a decoy for retrieving secret documents?” “No Robard. They are secret documents for a reason. The battle is to get this region under their controle again. But they are not taking a risk on this. They are covering up their tracks. Like they have never been here. We need to look for enemies snooping around.”

The old man

Just as he had spoke these words, the patroles sounds the alarm with their large wooden rattler. Sir Fys'er runs to the scene. He sees a man lieng death in a puddle of his own blood. He had a large coath on with a hood. The hood coverd most of his face. A crowd had gatherd around him. Sir Fys'er pulls the hood back. An old mans face reveals. This is the archieves file keeper. Apparently someone is not happy with his beeing around here.” He sees among the crowd a man trieng to slip away un noticed from the crowd. He wares a black robe also. Most of the people do. But non of them have their hoods on on a dry day, and non are trieng to slip away. “Stop that man!” He shouts. But no one reacts to it. Sir Fys'er sets in the persuit, followed close behind by Robard. They chase him across the streets, trough alleys, and finaly gives him the slip over a wall. “A perdanese soldier huh. That explains.”

This day he doesnt risk going afther the secret archieves. He goes to the official archieves of Perdan in Bescanon. Empty as he expected. Cleanded out by the enemy. Documents burned. What was to be moved to Perdan they moved in boxes to the secret archieves. A vault of some sorts he expects.

“How did you know the death man was the old archieve file keeper?” Robard asked. “Ellementary Robard. He had reading spectacles on him. To expensive, and quite useless to a common man or noble! Unless you where the read through files every day, handling them, fileling them, sorting them, and storing them. He also has alot of inkt marks on his fingers, and tongue. His murderor was very keen on silencing him. The leather bag he had with him was stolen. Its quite common for someone as old as he is to try secure a pension in Fontan. Wich ment only one thing. He was selling some top secret documents, in exchange for his new cittizenship, and a nice fat pension. From his clothes I deducted his was a man who loved the good life. But wasnt able to afford it. On his sleave was a graevy marks from wiping his mouth on his sleaves, and on his vest was a distinct stain of custard pie. In between his teeth I found remains of his last meal. If your analise them you will see that he has eaten roasted duck, with greavy, and for desert he had custard pie. All that is just ellementary. The stains tell us of his meal. The cain he had with him shows me he had a mild case of gout. Something you contract from excessive endulgance in meals rich in flavors. The mans taste sense has him addicted to these expensive meals. He isnt completely fat, wich tells us he isnt all to well off. With his love for good food, his bills go up also. A man like him would do anything to get a good fortune. So he sells out his country, and makes some money in the progress. The assasin got away with a leather back, out of wich scrolls stuck. Unusual for a assasin.”

The evidence

Robard wasnt sure he got all of this, but he did realise now the old man must have been of to great an importance that they wouldnt have him live. The empty Perdanese archieve shows notthing then just an empty room. But sir Fys'er looks around over the floor with a magnifieng glass. As if he was looking for tiny little files.

That night he spends studieng the evidence he gatherd. When his men returned he had them dig defences. The hunt was conveniant to keep enemy troops occupied, creating a clear seperation between those working for the army, and the spooks working undercover for the government of Perdan.

Sir Fys'er studies the fibers of the cloath of the death old file keeper of Perdans archieves. He compares them to the ones he found in the emptied archieve. He studies the prints he found and the prints of the killer. He even analyses the dust and powders he found there, using his portable alchemy set.

The sun rises as he goes for some rest. Robard he scribe finds him asleep on his bed and pulls the covers over him. Robard goes of and asks questions of his fellow scribes. About the possibillity that one of their lords might have orderd the removal of the secret documents.

He returns late in the afthernoon and finds sir Fys'er awake. “My lord, its good to see you up and rested again sir. I have gone around asking questions the to lords their scribes. The scribe of general sir Boom Boom told me that his master had never orderd the removal of any of those secret documents. He did had a look. The scribe. He reported to his master that the documents where removed. But his lord did not show much agitation to this news...” “That, good sir Robard; is because the general knew that by any seige the secrets are eighter smuggled out trough secret passages or the gate of the death. Neighter gate was used. Plus the foot prints showed dirt not from outside the castle. Wich means it is still within the castles walls. To be more precise! The foot prints showed less and less dust the more it came in or out. The ones who removed the files have done so during the divertion the townsfolk created for their realm. Analising the dust, I found two seperate sorts of dust. One containes dirt that can only be found here at ONE place. The Quary! I found the prints of six people comming in the archieve and leaving again carrieng more weight then normal. Wich means they where hauling things out of there that was at least double their own individual weight. Trunks. Book loads of trunks. So I analised the prints that circled around the room and where never leaving the room. He was loading the trunks. I remember that day when I lost so many soldiers. When we where rallied to fight the peasants again. The army of Perdan massed outside the region and sneaked up on us from behind the castle. I noticed 18 days ago at dusk before battle I saw lights burning over at the castle. I didnt think much alse of it. But knowing now where the archieves are.” He looks at the castle from his room at the inn. “Knowing where this room is now. I distinctly recall seeing those light on over there. I also recall telling that soldier that came to report me that 'Jack Command had rallied the army again for battle', that I knew Perdan was up to something. I just did not realise they where that clever.

The Secret Service

I see now the whole time they just knew that Bescanon was going to fall. Its so logical. Dont fight a battle you can't win. So they faught a battle only as a tactic in delaying the inevidable. They where trieng to remove these documents. What ever these archieves hold, it is of great vital importance to the contineus servival of Perdan as a realm.

But it does make sense. People, lords and peasant alike told so often the stories of a war that has been waged between the north and south for ages. They had spies risking life and limb to go north and infiltrate their enemy in the north. These spies often returned vital information to the south via a secret underground messenger route. That route! Bescanon is the crossroad of this WHOLE spy network. Even the infamous spy master lord Hireshmont, had his spies running trough these lands. Offcourse! These archieves hold copies off secret communication transcripts. It is no wonder our council is so very interested in obtaining these documents. Therefor the general wasnt woried.”

He suddenly briefly pauzed speaking. The noise outside his room. He looks! Its the peasantry! They have torches and are marching by the hundreds, nearly a thousand of them! The hold signs and pitchforks! “To hell with the tirrany! We wont pay taxes! To hell with the tirrany! We wont pay taxes!” The chanting go on. They even try burning dummies of the council members of Fontan. The guards rally to face the protestors. Some of the peasants get into fights with the guards.

“This is it! This is the moment! They are moving out the archieve documents! This is why these peasants are out here in the streets! The Perdanese spooks have rallied the peasantry AGAIN like 18 days ago! The protest is a decoy!

Look out there all the guards are distracted. Its now or never! If im ever to find out anything about mom out here in these archies, then I got to move out NOW!”

“But my lord we dont even know where to look for them! There are about hundreds of coaches in town. How are we gona tell the difference or proof that these coaches are filled with the secret documents. The general has left, members of the council arent here! We are in a foreign land. There are legal procedures to follow! We need a search warrent from the alderman! Where are we going to be finding him? Last we heard the alderman is out of town, attending an alderman convention in Fontans capitol. They are discussing the future of the former Perdanese regions there, so he is without a doubt attending that convention. How are we going to find legal means to arrest these spooks and confescate the trunks?”

The messenger to the general

“Elementary dear Robard! Put on your coath and get the lantern! We are going to pay an other visit to the castle! You would make a great investigator Robard. We can't risk brutal legal tactics in these regions, or we risk giving them every means of justification to rise up a declare themself back loyal to Perdan.” As they leave the inn Robard asks of Sir Fys'er. “Arent they already loyal?” “No Robard. That is the problem they are, but they are also peasants, and peasants have in these times no legal rights or voting rights. What I mean is, they havent got any political influence in this realm. If now they rebel they wont have the political back up for their rebelion. Perdan wouldnt be able to justify this rebelion, wich would result in a further blemish on their name. That they want the avoid at any costs. Its a political strugle for servival!”

They ride out for the castle in the death of night. By the castle gates they declare themselfs to the castle guards. They report themselfs to the castles stuart. “Sir, we are friends! We came to you this late an hour on urgent bisnes. The townsfolk are in protest demonstrating. This is the hour your lords of Fontan are about to lose a fortune worth in knowldge from the secret archieves. I can't explain it all right now, we need to move on this at once! Do you have a messenger available here?” The stuart is overwelmed with this. He is on his slippers in his night robe coverd by his red velvet bathrobe with a black collar. In his hand he hold a candle in a portable candle baerer for on the nightstand next to one's bed. With his night cap still on and all. He was clearly raised out of bed.

“Yes lord Fys'er, I have a messenger you can make use off. But why, may I ask?” “Sir it is my intention to warn my lord General of this, and send word to my troops to be ready when I signal them with a redflare over the citty night sky.”

He writes a little message on the stuarts official writing papers. He seals it as a report to his council. He instructs the mesnger to take this message to the General of Sir Fys'er, and to go by sir Fys'ers camp to instruct his units captain to be looking for a flare showing above the town of Bescanon.

The secret route

The castle stuart, Robard and sir Fys'er go down to the castles basement. Sir Fys'er takes the latern and takes a close look to the ground. In the dirt he finds alot of foot prints. He walks past the walls keeping his eye on the prints. Suddenly he halts, and states excited. “AHA! Gentlemen, I beleive the game is a foot!” He hand Robard the lantern, and begins to push and feel at the whole wall. Then he grabs the holder for the torch, and twists it slightly to his right. Robard and the castle stuart of Fontan are stunned by what they see next. The wall moves open before them, and a chill comes blowing from the space behind the wall. “Gentlement, from here on not a word? We are to fall on the enemy by total surprice.”

When they entered the space behind the wall they find it to be a tunnel. Sir Fys'er and company follow the tunnel. Not knowing where it leads, sir Fys'er has followed the tunnel to its end. Where yet they are faced by an other wall. Again sir Fys'er looks for some means of opening the secret pasage. He finds a lever, and pulls it.

The wall swings open. He stands inside a dusty storage room. In the dust he sees the familliar foot prints leading away from the wall. They are in some secret basement under a storehouse of Bescanon town. They follow the footprints to the bottom of a staircase. “Look for a place where foot prints end. There must eighter be a trap door or a secret passage?” sir Fys'er wispers.

The castle stuart takes his candle to the corner under the staircase, looking for signs as sudden he falls trough some rotten floor boards. Sir Fys'er and Robard run to the hole in the floor and lower tlatern to look. “Are you alright sir?” “Yeh, I am! I beleive I found the trap door! But watch that first step? It tends to take one by surprise!” Sir Fys'er doesnt say it but the two gents did realise that their ellement of surprice was gone.

The warehouse

Sir Fys'er lays his ear downstairs to the wooden door. They hear voices on the other side. “There is someone! Quick move these last trunks out to the coaches and get them out of here! You, you and you, come with me! We are going to pay our guests a small surprice visit!

Sir Fys'er draws his sword, and gives the flare to Robard.

“Go Robard, take the stuart up to the ground floor and signal the troops! We've caught them redhanded now! Stuart call out the guards have them join us here with their horses and start the persuite of these Perdanese spooks! Go! Now! I'll hold them off down here!”

Robard runs up the stairs with the stuart close behind him. Above the stuart run trough town shouting “ALARM! Guards, GUARDS!” Robard Fired the red signal flare straight up in the sky! Sir Fys'ers men proceed direct into town to the designated place, calling out the troops and the guards to follow them.

Meanwhile Sir Fys'er had stormed the door taking out several men fighting his way trough them into them room, wich was huge and had a large haevy chandeleer hanging from the seeling. The spooks down here all ware monk robes and conceel their faces behind masks. Still these where wariors with swords. And they where charging sir Fys'er. He fell back to cover all his flanks. He sees the rope holding the chandeleer at the seeling running back to the pilar behind him. He swing around and cuts the rope with his swords. Kicks over an large standing oil lamp, whoes spills his burning substance over the floor. Causing these spooks and the wooden pilars to catch fire. But he seizes the chance to attack the men in mask and monk robes to his other side and such defends himself quite well.

“Move that last trunk out here quick!” Sir Fys'er looks and sees a man clearly the leader of these spooks, and possible even a noble charge him. He holds large sword. Sir Fys'er battles him, and manages to put up a good fight, but one powerfull blow over his head knocks him unconsious on the chandeleer.

Robards choice

“The fire is getting out of controle! Evacuate the premesis immediatly! Evac plan Alpha Bravo!” These are the last words sir Fys'er hears. Robard runs into the main hall of the above building. The spooks come running out. Under one of them the floor subsides. Robard draws his sowrd and seizes his chance to disarm the leader of these spooks. He treatends them to halt! “Stop where you are, or your leader dies!” “You wont kill me boy!” “Wana bet!” “No i dont think you will! See I still got one last ace up my sleave!” “My lord Fys'er! Where is he!” “Clever boy! Yes here is your real clue now! Go figure!” The mystery noble tries to get away with this said by him. But Robard is quick to repsond. “Hold it! Your not going anywhere!” “You dont get it yet! Do you now! Scribe! Take a look down that hole?” “No, Im not falling for that trick! My lord Fys'er has told me of how clever you perdanese are!” The spooks gigle. “Then your lord must have also taught you a thing or two about sacrefice, and negotiations! Let me tell you what is don there! Your lordship! Sir Fys'er! He will die if someone doesnt go down there real fast and safe him from being consumed by fire! How does a loyal servent choose between his masters life or keeping his masters prisoners, prisoners!” Sir Robard doubts. But the mystery lord quickly makes up his mind for him. “I did'nt think so!” With these words the mystery lord and his spooks run outside and get on their horses. He hears the spooks leader with roaring voice reprimand. “Is'nt that coach gone yet! Get moving! You help me on the coach and double check if these trunks have been tied up proper!”

Robard gets an idea. He grabbed the rope hanging from the wheel used the hoist the chandeleer up to the seeling, and ties it on another rope wich runs back to a pulley used to hoist the trunks from the cellar into the hall. He then hooks the pulleys hook on the axe of the coach. All Robard had to do then was wait untill the coachmen putted to whip to his horses and got the coach moving. As the coach moved out the pulley pulled the chandeleer up to the hole, and simultaniously broke the wheel axis of the coach. The trunks fall of revealing a contence of maps. The Spooks leader jumps on one of the horses up front and cuts them lose from the coach. Making his way out of town.

Sir Fys'er explains

The guards led by the castle stuart set in persuit. Sir Fys'ers men follow soon afther. When sir Fys'er come to, he finds himself dragged to safety by Robard. As he tries to get up He sees the trunk with the maps. And the guards taking away the prisoners. One of them laughs at sir Fys'er. “Your to late! The secret documents of vallue to perdan are all away! You failed sir!” Robard helps Sir Fys'er up on his feet, and out of the warhouse as it goes up in flames. The Castle stuart walked up to sir Fys'er. “How did you find al of this out?” “Yeah Sir how did you know?” “Ellementary...” He smiles, as he sees a crowd gatherd around him. Even peasants gatherd to hear him. “It all began with the death of the old Secret Archieve file keeper. The killer is non other then the infiltrator of perdan you sir Robard so bravely faced. On your own may I add. He was send by perdan to recover the documents they couldnt get out before. During the battle 18 days ago. I saw that evening lights burning in the castle.

They where strugling with the immense amount of documents. The old man was storing them in Trunks, sorting them by importance. But secretly he had met with General Boom Boom, and baught his place in his new realm by promesing him documents, and to Fontan he promised the secret location of the documents. The warehouse its hidden vault.

He didnt caught the suspicion of the cunning Perdanese, untill he mysteriously vanished and showed up in town again. The infiltrator did not waste any time and killed him. Stealing the bag with documents in it.

I saw foot prints of the file keeper in the same location as where I saw lord Boom Boom his prints. I didnt placed the link untill you Robard told me what the scribe of Sir Boom Boom had told you of his master. He was there meeting in secret with the file keeper in the castle 18 days later.

The attack 18 days ago was to drive our army out, but it failed. So perdan recently tried again! Failing again, to create a window of oppertunity to move the secret files out. So they devised a clever plan to use the peasants once more again.

Before they didnt want our patroles snooping around as they made their way from the castle to the warehouse. Its when I found the dust mixed with soil from the tunnel that i realised from my geological knowledge, that this type of earth comes here from at least ten meters below the surface. Having noticed this from the camp fortifications. I realised that they must have used a tunnel from the castle to a vault below.

The Generals made sure they documents could not get out of the castle. But cunning Perdan did not intend to move it out trough the back door, but straight trough the basement.

Perdans spies then would come with horse and cart to move the trunks out of here. I couldnt figure it out. I searched for clues in the old Archieve and found the links with the old man, and foot prints comming from outside with fresh dirt. But the more I saw these prints go around the place the more I realised that these where leading no where outside. So I went this night down the the only place where the prints could have gone. The castle basement.

There I searched and found the secret passage. I knew we had to catch them in the act. For they to knew that Fontanese law does not allow a illegal search without a search warrent. But with the castle stuart at our side going trough the tunnel, we bypassed this Fontanese law as we technically by law never left the castle. We just entered what was just aswell as a extention of the Castle grounds. Now we had the legal rights under Fontanese law to make arrests, on grounds of trespassing, esspionage, and theft of Government property. A Capitol offense in Fontan. We've caught them redhanded!”

The hang over

He returns to the inn where a healer checks his condition out. He has been told by the healer to rest. That night and the next day he stays in bed. His troops captain - a man who has been with him trough every battle he has been in since he arrived on the island – came in the morning to his chambers with a report. “My lord the peasants have heard of your explaination last night before the stuart and have rebeled this morning. 8 or 9 gold have been stolen from the Fontanese merchants, and many valuables from the upperclas has been forcably removed from the wealthy. They havent come here yet but I have our troops posted around here.

The men are quite happy with your results of last night. I personally find we couldnt be more fortunate with you sir. The men themselfs wish you a speedy recovery. They love your adventure story, its gone in folklore here. Fontanese merchants and upperclass people have been spreading stories about it. All their own version. Even the Fontanese castle stuart has his own edition. He even had the local printer printing it out in a novel version. A detective novel.”

“Captain Pol! Have you anything else to report? I have a splitting headache from last night.”

“No sir, except this. Sir Robard asked me to hand you the Generals message to you. Last night he had the messenger return to Fontan with a reply. That at least is what sir Robard said.” He hands the message. “Place it on the night stand, I will read it as soon as my head clears up?”

The captain left the room about five to ten minutes of laying awake sir Fys'er takes the message, and opens it. “Fys'er just name your needs, Money men or goods and i will forward them to the front lines to aide you in your ventures. Keep up the good work and i look forward to hearing of your good deeds. keep fighting the good fight! Sir Boom Boom Minister of Defense of Sirion, Duke of Slimbar”

The trunk case

He sinks back with his head in his pillow and stares at the seeling. “Great all I need is more of that stuff like last night. All the Prime ministers men, and all the Prime ministers horses can not prevent these guys from escaping! Not unless we have a clue to how, when and where these men are going to strike next. That Perdanese spook is the best I ever have seen. He fooled two great nations, and even sucseeds when his whole plan is treatend from falling into peices. All that tells me I have met my equall before I even have began the search. I must find out what makes these peasants revolt. Their presistence even thoh the plot has been sucsesfully concluded, and the documents are safely on their way to Perdan. All except two trunks worth of maps of the world. Why? Why do peasants care so much about these nobles? Surely no peasant ever cared eighter way about their noble masters? What makes these people so different in their feelings towards Perdan.” He pounders on these questions. He desides to pay a social vissit tomorow morning to the castle stuart.

That same night he calls in the captain. “Captain Pol. You have known of that Warehouse that has been burned down a night ago? I want your men to go to the place and pretend to be doing Civil work. But i want you to peel your eyes open for anything you might find. You know when we where kids, and we went out on these digs? I want you to organise such a dig and make notes of how everything was structurised. I also want to know who build that warehouse, who owned it, and what items you find in it. Catalogue it. And make sure you find out what happend to those maps. These trunks. I want them checked. The governments will be in a heavy political argument on who is to own these maps, or how they are going to be devided. So I will be needing an update to where these maps are, and who has last been seen with them.”

New suspicions

“Yes, sir. About the trunks. I can already tell you where they are. Afther you where taken home by Robard. Sir, the stuart of the Castle has orderd them to be moved to his castle. Where they are to be stored in the old archieve untill the maps can be send to the propper authoritees.

His man servent and scout whent with four guards to the castle with the trunks. Simon I beleive he is called. He is a young boy age sixteen, and has pimpells all over his face.

I think he is a scribe also.” “Captain, what makes you so certain he knows how to read and write?” “Because he had a leather bag hung from his shoulder. The type scrybes use to store their documents in and writing gear for when they travel, sir. Like the one Robard has.” “Thank you captain, that will be all.” The captain leaves the room and heads for the burned down warehouse site. Sir Fys'er goes to his window and looks at the castle. He sees a light burning in the Archieve room. “If that man servent knows how to read or write, then im an elf. There is more behind this still, as sure as im not the realms father claus.”

One hour afther sunrise sir Fys'er gets out of bed. His head still hurts. That lump on his head will not make waring a helmet any pleasantlier. He looks trough his window at the castle. Its all quite calm over there. Robard enters the room with breakfast for his lord. “We wont be eating breakfast right now. We have an appointment with the castle stuart to keep.” “Unanounced sir?” “Yes I prefere the ellement of surprice on this one visit.” As they leave the room the captain enters afther a night of guard duty. “Captain Pol!” “Yes sir!” “You may dismiss they guards, and get some rest yourself. Return to the camp.” “Thank you sir!”

The architect

Robard and sir Fys'er leave the inn. Robard sadles the horses, and a quarter an hour later they are ready to leave. Riding towards the castle they pass on the road several peasants of to work. “It looks they have calmed down. Thats good! Last night captain Pol and his men managed to find me some quite interesting facts about the building. The warehouse was build by the local nobles guild to store their treasures inn. The Bellum Viaticus are a local guild in Bescanon. I visited their guild house that night that I went into the tunnels. I suspected them at first of being behind it. But it turns out they are victimised in all this. I did not have a chance of speaking with the guild master. But I am going to try get in touch with them, and see if I can find out more about this warehouse of theirs here.

At first glimps it is all an normal warehouse. Abandoned because of the war and the constant pressence of the army in Bescanon. The architect that was hired was also hired by the perdanese government in secret. They knew the Bellum Viaticus guild knows only loyalty for money, and are more a mercenary guild then that they are loyal to Perdan or any other realm. For that they where not told. But the Architect who builded this secret warehouse under the guilds warehouse died shortly afther completion in a mysterious accident. A little later all the others who knew of the secret warehouse and tunnel died aswell, in just as mysterious circumstances as the architect. All his files vanished. Even his notes and any other design plans.” “But why sir Fys'er are we seeing the stuart of the castle on this? He hardly knows anything about all of this! Except what you told him.” “Thats where you are wrong Robard. The stuart knows more then he lets us beleive. One simple rule Robard: Never trust a politician! Especially one whoes career looks to be clean and innocent. Question everything Robard. Never allow chance, or faith to provide you with the answers. You only just end up in a pickle that way! Look for signs.” “I find it fishy that a nearly appointed castle stuart can afford night cloathing that expensive. His bathrobe, and nightrobe. Thats not something you find on a person whoes just an administrator, and not a noble. With his pay, he couldnt afford it, unless he doesnt eat for like a lifetime. I know Fontan pays well, but that they pay that well that a simple man like him can afford a scout.” “Very good Robard! The stuart however will not be asked about these things by us today. He must not be alarmed by us. If he still prooves to be innocent we will have falsly accused an Fontanese administrator of high treason. That would have serious consequences on our realms alliance and future relations with Fontan. We must act with care.”

Securing the trunks

They arrive at the castle. The guards know him already and allow him to enter right away. While his horses are taken to the stables they are greeted by the castle stuart. “My friends! Welcome! Welcome! Hows the head sir Fys'er? All well may I hope?” “Oh it hurts still, but nothing that time doesnt heal.” “Fontan owes you a great debt for your service to their realm.” “That reminds me. My men last night during their civl work found your candle bearer and candle at the tunnel.” “Ah yes I left it there that night. Thanks, these are quite expensive. Come inside, where you can tell me to what I owe the pleasure of your visit?” They made good of the invitation and while they followed the stuart the young man servent the took their horses to the stable.

Inside, the castle stuart offers them a drink. “Sir, I learned you have the trunks stored for transport in the old archieve. I was wondering if I could take a look in them to see if I can find in them anything that might help me in my search for my parents?” “Sure sir, you know the way down to the Archieve room.”

Sir Fys'er goes down to the Archieve room. There he goes trough all the maps in the trunk. Robard goes with the stuart and chats with him about all the usual things in life. Late in the afthernoon sir Fys'er returns from the archieve room. “My lord, I have found nothing of interest, that might help me in my search. But I have learned of the immense vallue these maps could mean in the war effort of the allied realms. I shall order my men to the castle in turns to guard the archieve room. Once the politicians have decided on where they want these trunks moved to.” The stuart consented with a nudge.

Sir Fys'er and Robard made their farewells and left for town again. He returns home to study last nights results of the captains work at the burned out warehouse.

Midnight dig

While orders came to misdirect to Meuse, Sir Fys'er went on a little dig with Robard. He searched the graveyard for the graves of the architect. Robard asked questions but sir Fys'er was vage with answers. For the last twenty four hours sir Fys'er had been going around town with a strange looking object in his hand asking questions to alot of peasants and pedlers. Everyone had so their stories to tell, and some of them even chased them away, treatning to kill them if they caught them snooping around one more time.

Sir Fys'ers only words at the cemetary where when he opend the architects coffin. “AHA! I knew it!” Robard is puzzled! “Who would want to bury a coffin full of stones?” “Someone dear Robard, who doesnt want his true identety known! Or that he is still alive! And more importantly... Still among us! We have our killer Robard, my friend, we got him! ... Lets bury the coffin again before anyone finds out what we have done her tonight. Our killer might get aware to how close we are to actualy unmasking him.”

He went to his men their camp. That night he had send some guards early to the castle as that late it would be easy for his men to get lost in the death of night. He knew the killer was still in town, and was trieng to get to the trunks before they could.

The trap

At dawn he returned from the fields to the town and placed his troops once more again behind their camps defences. He found the time to give his men the day off. But with Captain Pol, and Robard he goes to the road heading south from the tow and the castle. He sets up a roadblock by having a tree trunk used as a gate. People going from the region are all checked by the tree. Then they hit paydirt. A ox cart is going from Bescannon towards Perdan. They stop it and search the cart. The driver is in a state of panic. With cause. Sir Fys'er recovers the two trunks that where stored in the castle. He takes the driver prisoner, and rides with Captain Pol and sir Robard the cart back. “Captain Pol, while your men have the day of, drive this ox cart to Troyes and hand it over the government agent that will take charge over it on behalve of the allied governments. Today the order was given to move these trunks.”

He assembles a group of allied soldier to disarm the guard of Bescanon and place the castle stuart under arrest.

Gotcha

He joined a curious crowd at the castle. “My lords and ladies! Your attention please?” The stuart is outraged. “What is the meaning of this here? This is an outrage! A violation of Fontanese hospitality!” Sir Fys'er faces the crowed and called foreward the cart driver. The stuart of the castle is shocked. He clearly recorgnises him. “Tell these people what you told me?” “My lord stuart, orderd me to drive the oxcart south to Perdan. I was to deliver the trunks to the Perdanese secret agent at the border.” The crowd looks shocked. “Thats a lie! I am a stuart in service of Fontan! This peasant is obvious a liar!” Sir Fys'er interrupts him. “No lord Stuart! Your the one lieng here! Your the stuart indeed, but you are a fraud! Years ago you where Perdans chief Architect. I first saw the expensive clothes your waring when I saw you for the first time that night we confescated these two trunks now on their way to Troyes. You faked your own death and passed yourself off as Fontanese student. I got this item that you dropped that night when you fell trough that hole. Fontans University is the proud owner of some of the worlds oldest manuscripts from a wide range of scholars and filosophers of the world. Your how ever not allowed to touch any of these materials so all students are pressented with a reading wand. That night you where up still and reading. I asked around in Bescanon if anyone recorgnised it. But it was a Fontanese noble who recorgnised it and told me it was of Fontans University. The same he attended. I dispatched a messenger personally asking the university for their yearbook of the year you attended school there. You where inlisted as a Perdanese Orphan rescued by Fontanese parents. You placed yourself under a new false name, with a false identity. When I had the register of the town you aledgedly where raised in, they did not ever show any entry of your so called adoptive parents in it! They also had no record of your parents there. You fooled the school. You where however directly from Perdan. The proof of this is simple. Whent hey told me you died first then the crew who builded the secret warehouse under the existing one, with the passages. It became evident that they knew a secret list of employees only kown to you! Yes you builded this place. Thats how you came to be so rich. They payed you well. But it was you who led the killing of your workers, afther staging your own death. The coffin that was burried, I dug up last night. Its filled with stones. Afther your men where death, there was no one who could point you out as the architect.” The stuart thinks and then replies. “But that doesnt explain why I went for the guards that night, to save you all.” “You went up with Robard. But did not exactly go to the guards. People later claimed they heard you shout, a couple of times. In reality you ran around the building and entered the warehouse trough the doors leading straight trough to to basement. Where also the hiden door to the secret warehouse where open. Within the room I heard the leader shout in anger, asking why they had not moved those last trunks yet. It was because you had entered trough that way. While I was fighting against these spooks from Perdan, you went around. It was you who hitted me over the head. The evidence of this is in this collar button from your bathrobes sleave. You lost it when you took that peice of wood that came from the hole you fell trough. Doing so you placed your candle bearer on the ground and forgot it.

The trunks tell no lies

My men later found it sifting trough the rumble. Of the warehouse. I told you it was found in the tunnel entrance. I had the chance to see in you room the sleave of your bathrobe. I also found there the secret vault in the wall. The old filekeepers nails where badly damaged from moving the stones. You found them yourself and hided a set of trunks filled with stones to match the weight of the real trunks. You had the false ones send to Troyes while the real ones went to Perdan.

I marked the real trunks so I could recorgnise them from the false ones. This all that day you allowed me to look in the trunks for clues to my parents where abouts. It was you who killed the old filekeeper. You where not known by him, but you where placed as responsible for the safety of the old man. You cleverly used the warehouse incident to levitate you above any suspision, and get you of the hook for your failure in protecting the filekeeper.

What was even more strange was that you obstructed the investigations the government had orderd. I myself began suspecting you from the moment I learned that the old mans death would not be investigated because of local political interfearance from the castle stuart. This was my reason for suspecting you. But all this time I did not want to jump to far ahead in my investigation and alarming you. Therefor I allowed you to be turned into the local hero. When I questioned your guards they testified that your rode out from Bescanon castle with them by your side. Wich means you took the tunnel back afther hitting me over the head. This explains why your arrived at the same time as my men did. Them being on foot but you having to run trough the village to the castle. That ment you could only have taken a short cut trough the tunnel. Like I reminded you earlier, I told you the day afther that your candle bearer was found in the tunnel. Reason is, you took it in there while you ran up the stairs to the tunnel. This afther the incident in wich you struck my head, knocking me unconcious.

You left a trail of evidence that proofs your guilt. By placing my soldiers on guard duty at the archieve room I knew you could not move the trunks without the orders in your hands to move the trunks. According to my men, you been in the archieve room only once since I left. That to switch the trunks. This you did this morning before the trunks where moved out.

Your busted sir. Your hould have hooked your tunnel up to the secret passages, and create a secret passage into the archieve. But sadly for you, you will not have that chance again. Your under arrest. And your guards are detained untill they can be investigated for any potential ties to Perdan. You can now see a Fontan jail up close and personal.”

Fontans men took the stuart in custody. The stuart was speachless. A few hours later everything returned to its old peacefull self.

Pay day

“Sir? We have been here 7 days, Our men havent been payed for a week now. Is it ok if we return to Oligarch now for payment?” Robard inquired. “As soon as Captain Pol is back. I will notify the general.”

The general replied him before dawn with a request to wait moving out untill nightfall. Moving out undercover of the night. Sir Fys'er obeyed, and moved out as requested under cover of the night. He would be by next nightfall in Westmoor, and then going to Oligarch citty from there.

Sir Fys'er arrived in Oligarch citty afther a two day journey. With a short stop in Westmoor to rest, and eat. Once his unit was fixed and paid he starts his return journey to Bescanon.

Afther one more day relaxing and two days travel sir Fys'er arrived back in Bescanon under cover of the night. As he feared repricals from the independance movement in Bescanon. Aftherall he spoiled two Perdanese loyalists their plans for getting Perdan their secret archive back. This was an afront to the independance movement, with their feirce loyalty to Perdan.

The stalker

He took up residence in a different inn, and under a different name. He slept that night peacefully. Having his men arrive during the day, so he wouldnt attrack attention to the place he stayed at, when he would arrived at night incognito. Exhausted he fell asleep swiftly. That morning he took his breakfast at an isolated table inside the inn. Trieng to remain unnoticed. During the day he spend most of his daytime hours on meeting with the millitary hyrarchie in Bescanon, and attempting to gain some insight in town on how the peasantry feld about the infamous sir Fys'er and his snooping around. But that night it costed him dearly. Someone was following him around trough the streets. A person waring a cloak. This did not feel right. So he did not head for the inn, but tried to make it to the edge of town. Where his unit was camped out at. The person that was shadowing him had a pritty good idea of what he was planning on heading for. In an attemp to escape his stalker sir Fys'er, splitted up with Robard. Both waring the same cloak. At first sight it seemed to work, as the stalker followed Robard. The plan was simple. The one luring the stalker away would lead him to an ally in town while the other would run around the the corner and box the stalker in inbetween them both. Limmiting the stalkers chances on sucses, and giving the two low skilled sword fighters a chance to level the odds a bit into their favor. Placing their hopes entirely on the stalker being a low skill level swordsmen. Sir Fys'er ran as soon as he saw that the stalker took the bait. He knew that making it to the edge of town was'nt any more possible. Being smart enough to realise that that plan had little chances on sucseeding as obvious they where dealing with a inteligent opponent. Perdan had proven its wit more then once before. So this time he would not risk underestimating Perdan eighter.

While he ran around the corner, he accidentaly ran into someone, or perhapse even someone into him. Violently he smakked against the ground. Then he saw the man who he ran into. It was non other then the manservent of the old castle stuart! “Well, well, if it isnt the great sir Fys'er!” I have no time for you boy! ...” But he couldnt finnish saying what he had to say, for the ex-servent interupted him. “You mean you want to get to your buddy Robard.” The stalker, the ex manservent of the castle stuart? “Whats your part in all of this doing!” “Oh!” he sasses sir Fys'er “What does the great detective have to say about me? Your not on top of your game now! Are you?” “What ever this is, it is not going to help your old master in any way! Neighter will it do you any good!” “Dont give me that load of crap! The manservent thing was NOTHING! I killed the old man! My father was to high on himself! He propbably would have feared breaking a nail or something in the progress! No I killed them! As I killed my fathers old crew and helped him fake his death! I was his eligimate child here in Bescanon! For years I was his link with Perdan, while he was living the good life out in Fontan! When he was here, I eliminated for him the competition! I killed all the other castle stuarts, so the picking as slim! But then our carefully layed plans where spoiled, when you came to town! I was that spook master that you battled! I must say, im realy disapointed in you! That you did not even recorngise or suspected ME!” He took out his sword and raised it over his head, with the sword point facing down at sir Fys'ers chest! “Now you will DIE for that mestake you made!” Suddenly! “AaaaaaaaaaaaaRGH!!!” Two men jumped him from behind. It was Robard who grapped the sword, and a stranger who knifed the son of the castle stuart, aka the 'spook master', 'the assasin', 'the manservent'. This was a close call. But how? “My lord? Are you alright?” “Yes Robard, I am now thanks to you and ...” The stranger lowerd his mantel hood. “YOU!” It was the castle stuarts old messenger! The one he had asked that night to deliver his message to the general. “Yes sir. Its me. When you went out into the tunnel with the castle stuart, you sended me out to the general of Sirion with that message. I knew the old man. He was my uncle. I wanted to avenge my uncles death since that day he got killed. Uncle did what what anyone would have done to survive. But he was a little to careless with how he walked around. That manservent one night came to our house and invited him to the castle for dinner. It was there that he was introduced to the young man you see here, and to the castle stuart as agents of Perdan. They involved him in the preparing of these documents for transport. He was followed around. They did not trust him. He became frightend for his life. So he found out about the stuarts past, and realised that he was not going to survive this at all. As soon as they where done with him, they would have exposed of him like they have done before with the building crew. I was hidden from sight, and actually took a risk offering my service as courier or messenger. Posing as a loyal Perdanese, I got in real easy. He who lies death at your feet rioted to peasants in Bescanon, when your alliance came here to take Bescanon over. He even led them. But never showed his face at any time! They made promises to the corruptable, and treats to the uncorruptable. This way they kept the fight going. When Bescanon fell early, he and his father stepped in to help Perdan with the secret removal of all these documents. He helped is father to become Castle Stuart. Their plans where obstructed by you sir. When you found out their plot. I saw you at my uncles body. I realised then, what i do now, that your life is worth risking my life for. I told the General that night what I knew about my uncles case. He defected to Sirion because he knew he was gona be a death man here anyway, and Sirion promised him life. Most of all he did it for me. Afther his death I stayed with the Stuart and their son. When no-one was there it was I who had to do the dirty chores, like cleaning the stables, washing the cauldrons. Afther the Castle stuart was arrested I and his son wandered accros the whole region. He searched for you sir. But it was one of your own men who betrayed you! One who has been playing both sides. Your scout sir! He sold you out. It was he who told the stuarts son where he could find you sir. Once he knew where to find you, he hired that scout to stalk you, and chase you into his trap. Thats when I came foreward. I stayed with the stuarts son! Untill the trap was ready the close on you. I saw Robard going into the ally, and understould that this was where you would entrap him. But at the point when Robard dropped his hood, the scout got confused. Thats when I jumped him from behind.”

Robard contineud with his version of the events. “My lord as he said, it was your scout that you picked up in Trinbar. He pulled a sword on me. Thinking it was you he faced. Thats when he lowerd his hood. He heard footsteps and called out to his true master. The death one right here. 'Wrong!' Our stranger here shouted, and slit his troath.

He told me he would explain everything later, but that you my lord where still in the gravest of danger. He was not joking sir. You where, and he was right. Now I know also why he came to our resque.”

Sir Fys'er looked at him with gratitude. “Good sir, how can I thank you?” The man looked at sir Fys'er as Robard helped him back to his feet. “My lord, you have thanked me enough, by delivering those who wronged my father to justice.” “There is an possition opening up on my employment list. I think you are perfect for this position. I will pay you his pay, and hire you perminantly as my scout. With job benefits. We reward our heroes, allways! I like you to keep an eye out for my enemies, and report to me in secret. No one knows your working for me. You can be a very vital inside source. What do you say? You accept?” “Yes my lord. I accept.” Thus Sir Fys'er gave him enough money for his lodgings, and parted with him.