Charles
Lady Anna Barrmount
Grunewald Castle, Vallen

Anna pondered as she heard the council selling her Ibethiel. Were they telling the truth? Would they really help? Would the mercenaries be enough? She really needed all the help she could get...

"I-"

She got interrupted by the paladin, asking for volunteers. Where did they take Arabella? Was she safe?

Anna awaited as the crowd of the council died down and finished their volunteerings.
Lawrence
Lord Bennard Wrencrest
The Council Room, Vallen

Bennard hmphed at Bradai's comment about the Mainlanders' conduct. Whereas the Pirate King suffered from the overwhelming attention of the medial and southern kingdoms, it was the ignorance shown by those people towards the North that ever vexed the Lord of Wrencrest. Moreover, for all the work Bennard himself had done, he did not feel lucky at all. His lengthier passes at his goals usually left him disappointed. That lack of luck, that awful absence of movement and variety in his life, sometimes drove him to do things that had nothing to do with ill-fortune; things that were entirely his own doing. He glanced at his family, sighing gently.

Just when he thought he thought the Pirate King would reprimand for an apparent break in attention, the Paladins sounded their call to arms. He took due note of the Islanders who stepped forward; their bravery and nobility surprised him. Some of the people here were somewhat proving correct the stereotypical views that they caught wind of in Wrencrest, yet the people of the Pirate King, the most widely lambasted of them all, seemed to be defying all preconceptions. That included their leader himself.

He turned his head in response to the Pirate King's probing and thought for a moment before saying, "To be honest, Your Majesty, I am not sure if it would be right for me to send my men on this particular hunt. I doubt not that many of their kin back home already have muddled notions of me." He frowned at the table. "I would not exacerbate their fair unfriendliness by delivering their brothers, sons, and fathers in linen wrappings. We see enough death in our land. Especially at present."

He continued in his thoughts, for fear of rambling, that people already knew his people for their bravery and their fighting prowess. They would not take much notice of some Iron Plainsesmen hopping onto a hunting expedition to spill the blood of a few maleficars. That was not the perception he desired to engender, anyway, since it did not hold to his ideal conception of Wrencrest in particular, nor was he entirely convinced that this horrific epidemic had its root in a few bog-hags. If this venture ended in the massacring of misidentified innocents—by the gods, even if they *Were* Witches—then the stain on his people's spirit would haunt him forever.
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
The Council Room, Vallen

"Had I been operating upon my own volition, I would have volunteered," Sir Heath replied curtly. In truth, he was aching to participate in a witch hunt. It had been far too long since his sword had cut something that was not his nearest and dearest friend. 

"Yes, I'd rather my head knight stay with me while I'm abroad," Queen Elle said, "Despite how badly you want Heath to get transfigured into a toad by an insane bog witch, King Maith."
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The Council Room

He watched as Lord Wrencrest seemed to shift in his seat, providing a long and storied answer as to why he men wouldn't go. Bradai studied him for a while, lips pursed in thought. He was afraid, that much was obvious. They were all afraid. 

" 'ave you asked vhem?" Bradai asked, "I would." 

The Pirate King turned his attention to Bennard's retinue. "If you want to prevent deaff, you should at least send a scout to write some more uff your pretty journals. Send one wiff my men, vhey'll protect 'im. Vhat is..." The Pirate King folded up the Lord's notes and handed them back to him, "If you see any opportunity in it, anyways. 'oo knows, maybe we'll capture a witch. Vhey'll know." 

The Pirate King laughed at the mention of an insane bog witch, "Your people are dying in vheir beds but yeah, you're absolutely right. It's priorities, really. I'll sleep easy knowing all uff your knights are safe. Gods forbid 'e becomes a toad. Vhen he wouldn't be able to fight or protect anyone." He smiled when he looked at Anyanka Durkhan.
Robert
Queen Elsinore Romanov-Black
The Council Room

"I gave my reason for keeping him. Perhaps you should go yourself instead of laughing upon everyone else who has reason not to go, coward," Queen Elle said in her lilting voice. "Your people are dying. It's priorities, really."

"You're already half toad, Bradai," Prince Nickles jeered from his wheelbarrow.
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The Council Room

"My people are dying, and my people are going. Tell me when I took my fuckin' vows to protect people. Tell me when I, or any fuckin' Shitblood for vhat matter, was ever given tha title Sir and not spit on for it." He laughed, "You wanna 'ear a joke? A funny fuckin' joke? You know what vhey call a Romanoff wiff no one around to protect vhem? Dead." Gitten pounded her flagon on the table, laughing boisterously. 

"Calling me a coward and clinging to your bruvher's pantleg. Now vhat's a fucking joke." He squared his jaw as he ran his hand through his beard, "Somebody start vhis fucking wedding so my men can leave and save us all, or 'ave we all forgotten why we're 'ere?"
Robert
Queen Elsinore Romanov-Black
The Council Room

"By all means, King Maith, go with them. Sending your pawns does not make you better than the rest of us," Queen Elle said, waving him off both metaphorically and in reality. The Islander stench was one that Elle had never grown accustomed to. 

"Wheel me to the boy," The last Ramsalot ordered. Kenmath did as he was told and gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow, settling him down in front of king Bradai. Unfortunately, Kenmath was a sloppy driver and he rammed Nickles' fresh stump into the corner of Bradai's chair. 

He screamed.
Rosa
Head Warden Persephoen Timtams and Thugsby
The Council Room

The Withermen watched as Dame Clarabella Cooch was wheeled past them, waving their bloody stump aloft. She watched as the raw end gingerly connected with an errant set of splinters on the Pirate King's chair. The two of them reacted in horror as the Dame's wheelbarrow connected, toppling over and sending the girl to the ground. 

Persephoen stood from her chair, nostrils widening at the scent of the Dame's blood. It smelt foul, like rat fur and paste. But it was only when the Dame's head connected with the ground that she realized the true identity of the disgusting little stumped-ass wastrel lying before her. The noise from the poor boy's head was like an empty pot, the deep brassy tones emanated from the soft noggin for three straight minutes, echoing around the room. "You..." Persephoen whispered wondrously. Her face turned as pink as Nickles' dress as she passed out. 

Thugsby hadn't realized a damn thing but was able to catch the Warden as she passed out. "Somebody get my babe some water!"

Thugsby
The Council Room

Upon realizing that no one would get his babe some water, Thugsby dropped Persephoen and reached across the table to grab a vase of water. He placed the rim of the vase to her lips. "You know." He began, "The way you all treat people from the Witherlands is pretty disrespectful."
Lawrence
Ser Wendel Sommerling van Spenglersbek
Vallen

Oh, to see the throneroom at last! Sir Wendel leaned slightly so he could get a good look at it through the open doorway. There they were: the royal family. Never before had he even glimpsed the countenance of their great king. He was a touch less chiselled than what Wendel had expected, but no matter; the Grunewalds had kept a stable and, to him, very happy kingdom for years, and that was enough for him. Though Gregor could not hear him, Wendel whispered, "Hail to the King," With sparkling lavender eyes and a broad, reverent smile. 

Such an honour too to lay upon the magnificent Auburn and Wilhelmina, and the nobly-suffering Walburga. And many warriors from whom he had taken much inspiration, such as the glorious-though-controversial Sir Heath—both of them longtime sufferers of mixed regard!—and the might Eric Stafford. The mere sight of those two filled him with determination, though he felt a touch of disappointment upon ascertaining that neither of them seemed to be coming with them: a bitter shame, to be sure.

As additional volunteers filed out of the room, he clutched his helmet tighter to his chest layered with padding and mail. Such varied faces were those that came to fight by their side. There was no doubt that this would be a splendid and glorious foray into the face of maleficent evil! When the time came, he would follow his fellows down the stairs and onwards to the field. Never before had the brilliant, stirring pith of the ancient tales been so powerfully resurrected in the crux of modern affairs.
Kathleen
Valentine Godwin
The council, Vallen

Viola hadn't *Meant* To eavesdrop on the pirate king's conversation with the Wrencrest lord - but since she had no business with the marriage problem, her ears had searched for solace in the whispering conversations of others in a similar situation.

"*If you want to prevent deaff, you should at least send a scout to write some uff your pretty journals*."

It was an opportunity. A dangerous one at that but at least with islanders protecting her she doubted she would be in harms way (and she was around enough young boys with magic to handle herself well enough around witches anyway). When she saw a moment, she leaned slightly over the table towards the pirate king and the lord.

"Apologies, King Bradai, Lord Wrencrest," She began, nodding to each in respect of them,"I did not mean to listen to your conversation but I couldn't help but overhear something about sending a scout with the paladins."

Straightening herself a little, she cleared her throat. Her hands were shaking on her lap,"My name is Professor Valentine Godwin, I'm employed with the academy of Azarya and I have an understanding of the plague and where it comes from due to my own research I had hoped to present today," As she spoke she slid over one of her journals, filled to the brim with research, drawings and diagrams."I've been on field missions before and my interest is purely for my own academic curiosity, I only ask to be allowed to go with your men and will happily share my research with you upon return."
John
**Queen Lucrezia Scheer and Kirk Pinewood
Throne Room**

Lucrezia sat down in annoyance that the decision of Anna Barrmount had been delayed to deal with the witch hunt. She might have sent some of her guards, but none of them had accompanied the group to the castle. Their invitation said to only bring council attendees. Apparently, the Islanders had received a different invitation or simply couldn't read theirs. Pirate King Bradai's extensive entourage had become the de facto law enforcement of Grunewald Castle since the hosts seemed limited in their staff at present.

Meanwhile, Kirk was praying that the council would forget about him.
Kari
Ian Mortuo and Vex Gresham
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

"Hey!"

The call brought Vex back to the present and looked towards the sound. Ian emerged from the trees, his armor a dead giveaway in the brush, with others behind him. The younger Paladin had a spear in his left hand that he tossed towards Vex.

"Where are the others?" Vex returned, choosing to speak in Voxdei.

"Others? This is all we have." Ian returned, the rolling R's and guttural consonants accentuating his chuckle.

Vex cursed in Common before handing a small sack of coins to his younger compatriot.

"Watch the prisoner." Vex muttered before resting his spear across his shoulders and addressing the- He sighed. -10 volunteers that gathered.

"Welcome, and thank you all for answering our call. The Order of the White Rose owes each of your lieges a great favor in the future." He began before pointing North West. "Approximately 3 hours in that direction as the crow flies is a coven of very dangerous witches, they are responsible for the plague and pose a threat to the future of Marin. As far as we know they're are less than a dozen and a half there of varying experience in a small cabin, however once we get inside it will be unknown territory. We don't know what these witches are capable of, so assume they are extremely dangerous. The plan is to let the prisoner shifter lead the way, after that we'll take advantage of the chaos these creatures will cause on each other, and eliminate the threat of the plague once and for all."

He paused for a second or two to catch his breath.

"Are there any questions?"
Rosa
The Islanders 
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

The six Islanders that had volunteered were ordered to kill the witches first, and protect the Academy Scout second. Three of them sported large packs on their backs, provisions from the camp they had set up outside Castle Grunewald. They generally trusted the Paladins to keep them safe from harm, and although none of them had ever fought against witches, they had fought against cannibals and scags just the same. At their sides were falchions and on their backs were crossbows, complete with twenty silver bolts. 

As the Paladins pushed the Shifter to the front of the group, a few of them chuckled. They had seen multiple attacks against their King from this beast-woman, and now they could see the carnage from the other side. 

"Aye!" A young Islander shouted, waving his hand in the air. His large pack clanked noisily behind him, "I gotta queschin! What's stoppin' 'er fram teamin' up with these witches n' killin' us all?! She 'as no kinship with us, we're men n' she's..." He narrowed his eyes to get a better look at her, "Well, she's that wolf thing, innit?"
Kari
The Paladins
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

Vex was new to the Islander accent, but couldn't help but appreciate their bluntness.

"Correct, she is that Wolfing Innit. And as you know she only cares about her own skins." Vex smirked his pointed smirk.

"The prisoner has been promised leniency in her punishment in exchange for clearing the witches. We don't know for sure if she's going to go along with it, but that's why we brought all these silver weapons." Vex patted the dagger on his right hip.
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

As the other Paladins and volunteers began to arrive, the shifter could help but narrow her eyes towards the pirates. She hated those types of humans more than the Paladins themselves, hoping they would find a way to get themselves killed during their battle against the witches. When Vex mentioned she would be the first to attack the witches, she thought it was quite typical that she would be forced to do most of the dirty work. Then again she *Was* Their prisoner. 

When one of the islanders questioned about the shifter teaming up with those they came to kill, the corner of her lips tugged upwards into a smirk. It was a valid question, however Cecilia thought it would be too quick of a death to attack them in her wolf form as she was to do with the Coven. Instead, Cecilia fantasised poisoning them all whilst their guard was at their lowest and/or whilst they slept, Especially that Paladin named Vex. 

Looking towards the youngest islander who spoke while keeping her gaze away from Vex, she found herself amused by the name he called her. "I prefer the term 'Beast'."
William
Nikita Valacar
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

As the procession of travelers continued forth with discussion, Valacar remained silent, trailing behind at the very rear. Much of the matter of this quest left no interest to the young knight. An adventure was an adventure, that was his only thought that crossed his mind. The fallen state of the world was merely an afterthought, putting forth this estranged detachment all throughout.

He was calm, to say the least, easing himself away from the bitter discourse and onto the hushed sounds of the surrounding fauna. The world may perhaps be in grave peril, but it still reveled in the lush sceneries of nature. The trail pushed further and further away from civilization, plunging deeper into Lady Camira's warm embrace.

In his quiet peace, the young knight began to sing a quiet hymn in his native tongue:

*O', give us pleasure in the flowers today;*
*And give us not to think so far away*
*As the uncertain harvest; keep us here*
*All simply in the springing of the year.*

*O', give us pleasure in the orchard white,*
*Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;*
*And make us happy in the happy bees,*
*The swarm dilating round the perfect trees...*

...And to such melody, he remained away in his little world. Following along in listless ease.
Lawrence
Ser Wendel Sommerling van Spenglersbek
Outside of Vallen, Taemar

Sir Wendel tightened the leather strap underneath his polished sallet. With an elegant roll of his arm, he let the shaft of his eight-foot spear slide out from his elbow and fall into his hand. He placed its fairer extremity firmly onto the earth, and for a moment, he silently eyed the shifter. Was this manner of creature truly the cause of all those scary tales his parents used to tell him before bed? Wendigos were much more fearsome beasts, he imagined. She seemed more like a bottom-end whore scraped up from the wretched urban grime. The poor thing.

Oh well, he wasn't going to question an expert. If a Paladin said that she was a shifter, then she was a shifter. He looked aside at his companions. Was someone singing? He hmphed, then gave a nod to the group's leader. "Paladin Vex, how do we *Know* That these witches are the origin of the plague?"