Lordling (Terryn)

[Brookswho]

Upon dismounting from his horse, Artos takes a moment to stretch his legs. He had been atop that horse ever since departing from his castle, and along with the armor that he wore, it was safe to say that his legs were a little stiff. Afterwards, he removes his helmet, blonde curls dropping to his shoulders. He gets the attention of his men, tossing his helmet to one of them.

"Sit tight. I'll return after my conference with the Baron," he tells his men before briskly walking his way to the meeting.

"Baron Tuwold!" he shouts energetically with a smile, "it has been some time, has it not?" His energy and compassion, it was all for show. A game of affection. "Yes..." he responds to the Baron, "I've seen some of the strange occurrences with mine own eyes, I could barely believe what I was seeing."

He briefly goes over the oddities that happened in Terryn land, the rabbits and the reports of animals refusing to die. Then, he pauses for a moment, seemingly unsure of how to proceed with the next. "My Lord," he starts, "have you received report of anything at Cotarhill?"

 

[Lorsh]

You toss your bascinet over to one of your merry men, who catches it and keeps it at his side. They remain outside while you enter the keep.

The baron receives you warmly. Of course, the Terryns had historically been amiable vassals to his house. He listens closely as you give your reports, then his lips grow tight as he mention Cotarhill. "House Hycott has yet to respond to my summons," he murmurs. "I have reason to worry about the state of that domain." It had been a fragile section of the barony- though arguably, most of the Tuwold estates weren't particularly well-defended. In the old feodal wars, lawless nobles from the north had attacked and even occupied Cotarhill several times. "As for the Vizierdrakes... even if they have a grasp on things, eh... Lord Leogan is not the man he used to be." He shakes his head. Their lord was known to have grown senile over the years, with his son now acting castellan.

Looking at you, though, your liege smiles. "The Terryns- now you are reliable men, I see. How do you plan on keeping your lands in order, during this crises? I do not have a great deal of knowledge at the moment- I need to send my lads to figure out how far this has spread."

 

[Brookswho]

Artos gives a modest bow to the Baron's compliment, delightful that he appears to be the most trustful of the barony. He knows that maintaining this relationship could prove quite beneficial in the scheme of things, especially if the other lords of the barony are not acting to the satisfaction of the Baron.

"I took action immediately after the discovery," he starts, "and sent riders to inform the officials of my landholdings, as well as my neighbors. This act was done in hopes of informing my people, at least the ones that need to know, so that they may look out for similar happenings. And for the neighbors, so that we may cooperate. If they have encountered related occurrences, it would be a good thing to know. I also commenced an investigation."

"It is a bit early to tell the extremity of the situation, or what necessary actions must be taken. So, I believe all we can do now is to prepare for the worst, and see what we can learn," he tells the Baron, "if you are in agreeance with such."

He thinks to himself for a moment, picturing the situation at Cotarhill and the animated skeleton, before continuing, "Perhaps it would be wise to prepare as if we were in a time of war."

"And-" he pauses, "going back to the subject of the Hycott's, I passed through there on my way here. The situation is quite grim at Cotarhill." He goes over what he saw outside of the castle, the charred skeleton that was still animate, the hostility of the guards at first, the information those guards told him... after it took Artos a while to get them to speak clearly, and the overall situation of Hycott's lands, from what Artos could see.

"I believe that Lord Hycott is too blinded by fatherly love to perform his lordly duties, as his daughter appears to be among the affected," he states, "perhaps that is why you have received no response, Lord." He paces the hall. "I fear collapse in those lands if the lord is allowed to remain absent. And if that happens, my lands will be cut off from the rest of the barony."

He looks to the Baron inquiringly.

 

[Lorsh]

The Baron listens to your report on the other vassal territories, and his face grows set and grim. "Hmm... By sweet the sweet Maiden-layn-in-Clay(1), things seem to have gone pear-shaped over there. I am tied-up with my own fiefs, but if I am to keep this barony in one piece, I will need assistance. Bless Lord Cornick, he is a good man, but if he is indeed unable to keep order in this domains..." He taps his fingers on his armrest. "If you truly believe that Lord Cornick has been incapacitated, I will name you Protector of those territories. I'll have a warrant made?" he offers.

(1) Miria the Martyr [and namesake of a kingdom], from the early days of Paragon's faith.

 

[Brookswho]

A short moment of silence fills the air as Artos strokes his chin in what appears to be deep thinking or consideration, but in all honestly, it's to hide the smirk that's forced its way upon his face. "You can rest assured that I won't allow my aunt's homeland to fall to chaos," he reassures. "Besides, it's the people... they deserve action over silence in these trying times."

He continues to pace the room. "Yes, Lord, I do accept the offer to become Protector of the Hycott landholdings. I will stop by Cotarhill on the return journey to assess the true length of the situation, as I was denied entry previously. Was there something specific you required of Lord Cornick, that he has not responded?"

 

[Lorsh]

"Yes, yes," the baron quickly nods, seeming to heave a sigh of relief. "He needs to do... a few things. To be honest, Artos, sometimes that man just seems to slight me, and I think he doesn't even know he does it. Can you remind him of a certain flock of sheep that one of my knights is owed? And for the other thing- I had summoned him to meet with me personally, but now I would like to change that. Now it will be a proper vassals' meeting at Tuwold keep- I could have the Terryns, the Hycotts, the Drakes- we shall all sit down, and discuss this vile plague. But not right now," he quickly adds. "You need to ensure the domains to our north are secure, and you can worry about that later. I will send heralds," he assures you.

You are allowed to leave if you have no further questions, though the baron can receive more.

 

[Brookswho]

Artos expresses acknowledgement to the Baron's words. "As you say," he responds, to the Baron's plan for organizing a meeting among his vassals, "it will be wise for us all to be on the same page."

He stops pacing and faces the Baron. "If there is nothing else that you require of me while I am here, then I will see you again when you call upon me," Artos tells him. "It appears that I have some sheep to inquire about," he says laughingly. "But, in all seriousness, I will make sure the northern territories are well."

Artos makes his leave after receiving the warrant that names him Protector of the Hycott landholdings. After reuniting with his men outside of the keep, he plans to make his way back to Cotarhill.

 

[Lorsh]

You are dismissed, after Lord Tuwold has his scribe present you with the baronial warrant. Your retainers were treated to some wine and mutton during their stay, so their spirits are slightly raised. After departing the Tuwold estate, you and your men begin the ride back to Cotarhill.

However, your travels have taken up most of the day, and it is already growing quite dark by the time you pass through the village to the south of Cotarhill. You manage to make it to Cotarhill without much incident, and see that there are braziers providing light in the towers. In the distant countryside, maybe a thousand yards away, you can see a farmstead burning as well, however.

Another guard pokes his head up. "Who goes there?"

 

[Brookswho]

Prior to riding up to the castle, Artos spots the burning farmstead in the distance and his jaw clenches, wondering what he will have to deal with tonight or on the morrow. "Well, boys, I can already smell trouble... not that this place didn't already have that stench before. Be on your guard."

He approaches the gates slowly and keeps his distance from them, knowing that visibility is low at this hour and he does not want the guards to rashly interpret he and his men as hostile. He hails the guards on the ramparts, "It is I, Lord Artos Terryn! I have made my return after conducting business with Baron Tuwold." He gives them a moment to process his introduction, and then raises the parchment that declares him their Lord Protector. "This document here names me Protector of the Hycott landholdings, signed by the Baron himself. In the apparent absence of your lord from his duties, I have been commanded to safeguard his territories-" He motions in the direction of the farmstead. "-And from the sight of that, it appears his territories ARE lacking stability."

He lowers the parchment. "I know you cannot see the warrant from up there, so if my word is not enough for you, you may send a representative to confirm the legitimacy of it." He pauses. "Once it has been decided that what I have said is true, I will be demanding entry. I must evaluate the situation here... and I will require audience with your lord. I am not here to cause conflict, rather, I am here to solve all those problems that seem to have struck here as of late- And to ensure that these lands are properly tended to."

He awaits their response, patiently sitting atop his horse.

 

[Lorsh]

Your speech is relatively convincing, especially with the well-placed emphasis on the burning farm in the distance. Now that the guards know of your legitimacy, it isn't long before the gates are pushed open several Hycott footmen, who beckon you inside.

A white-haired serjeant (one that's almost armored enough to be mistaken as a knight to the untrained eye) approaches you, going to look at the warrant merely as an afterthought, squinting as he works out the general structure of the words, perhaps only being 'half-lettered'. "Ahh. Very good- Paragon bless ye, but what do we do now, Lord Artos? Old Lord Cornick is still in a sorry state, and as for, well..." He pauses. "Eh, I don't want tae know what is going on in that keep."

An owl hoots somewhere in the distance.

 

[Brookswho]

Artos scans the interior of the castle upon entry, taking in his surroundings and familiarizing himself with them. After the snow-haired man finishes speaking, Artos turns to him. "I do," he sternly responds to the last bit. "I'm going to need to know the situation in there. And- I must speak to your lord, at some point or another."

He steps around a bit, resuming his observations. "As for what we do now, assemble a meeting for all notable officials of Cotarhill. I will need to be briefed and brought up to date on all the concerns around here. Then, we'll start doing something about those concerns."

He looks to his men, then back to the serjeant. "Accommodate my men, we've been on the road for the entirety of the day and they deserve rest along with a warm meal."

"It is late... but I will require that meeting as soon as possible. I feel that there are things that will have need of- immediate addressing."

 

[Lorsh]

Cotarhill Castle has a few buildings behind its old stone walls, including stables, a storehouse, and several lodgings for servants. There is also a small courtyard with a garden.

The serjeant nods, and sets out to acquire the presence of a few other notables from the castle. A few men come to greet you. One is the steward of the Hycott landholdings, the man known as Barnaby. He is Lord Cornick's younger brother, and his younger sister, Lady Parrice, is married to your steward, Sir Fulco Terryn.

Barnaby wears a fashionable robe, has a silver-hilted sword on his hip, and his beard is well-trimmed. Barnaby is flanked by the serjeant-of-the-guard, as well as a gray-robed, skittish scribe who seems to be wearing a full-sized arming sword at the belt.

"Greetings, Lord Artos," Barnaby bows. "I see you have been... sent here to provide aid," he begins. "Listen, there are terrible things afoot. Our grasp has slipped, I will admit. I will make sure your men are quartered for the night, but for now, would you join me in the courtyard?" he asks, voice lowered slightly. He nods towards a few of your retainers that are standing around nearby, in case you felt the need for extra security.

 

[Brookswho]

Shrugging towards his men, Artos leaves it up to them if a few wish to accompany him for security. He wiggles his scabbard and smiles to Barnaby, indicating that he himself is confident in his ability to defend himself if the need should arise.

“Yes, it is evident that terrible things are afoot, Barnaby. It is why I am here. From everything that I have witnessed today, I doubt anything can truly shock me now.” He extends out his arm, asking Barnaby to lead the way.

“Let me explain my motives, so that we have a mutual understanding. Your realm appears to be fragile, at the moment, and if it falls... well, that would cut off my lands from the barony. And I cannot have that,” he explains, attempting to ease any suspicion of ‘foul play’.

He matches Barnaby’s hushed tone, “my intuition tells me, from your tone, that there is a lack of agreeance within these walls.”

 

[Lorsh]

Your men seem to follow you instinctively. They wouldn't want you to end up getting into any trouble, of course. Master Barnaby raises an eyebrow at your behavior, but it's nothing that he hasn't already known about. He continues to listen to you speak as you walk into the courtyard, with your swordsmen strolling behind and attempting to look inconspicuous.

The courtyard is a peaceful enough place, plenty of hollyhock flowers. Flies and wasps buzz around though, crawling amid the petals. "My elder brother simply does not know how to deal with this... Curse, Lord Artos," Barnaby says. "We need to end the nonsense at this castle if our lands are to be secured. If you want to know the easiest way to help me, we need only present ourselves at the castle, and be prepared to slay any undead in sight. Some of them are my kin, but..." He looks to his cohorts, and they nod solemnly. "They are locked in numerous rooms."

 

[Brookswho]

Artos continues to stroll with Barnaby. "That sounds like a given," he responds, "allowing the undead to remain within your castle will surely lead to unnecessary incidents in the future." Knowing that some of them are relatives of Barnaby and the nobility here, he reassures Barnaby, "It won't be easy, but realize that they are no longer themselves. Something demonic has forced control of their shells. So..." he pauses, "look at it as if we were killing the demon, not the familiar face."

"So, I'm assuming this task was not possible for you, yourself, to accomplish prior to my coming here...? Due to your brother's authority and indecisiveness?" he asks, mainly just to get an answer to his assumption.

Upon receiving an answer, he moves on to the next ordeal, "Since I agree with what you say 'needs be done', how will we go about it?" He waits to obtain further details on this plan before proceeding. "Will Lord Cornick prove difficult?" he asks, with a little more emphasis to stress the importance of it.

 

[Lorsh]

Barnaby seems to have some of his suspicions assuaged, since you speak clearly and plainly. He is irked when you bring up his sibling's qualities, but he is not in a position to deny the truth. "Yes, my hand has been forced." When you bring up the issue of Cornick Hycott's cooperation, Barnaby has to think. "Lord Cornick... he may resist, if he has truly lost his mind. There is no Curse afflicting him, but like all men, one can only see so much in this cold Realm of Trials," he murmurs. "Whatever else, it is to keep him safe, you understand. I plan to take the swords away from the men I order to seize Lord Cornick. Sir Hallock will tend to Lady Kari, and the serjeant here will check for any other kin..." he tells you with closed eyes and exasperated sigh. "Of course, there are other servants that have died, or soon will... They'll have to be slain on the spot. My men... and yours, will have to do it all very quick-like. Without thinking. Or this will become worse."

 

[Brookswho]

Artos reflects on all that has been said for several seconds. Nodding to himself, he looks to Barnaby. "Understood," he tells him, "my men will follow suit once you give the call." Artos rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Your plan includes seizing your brother, which he may take very wrongly. He does have the authority of your House. It would be problematic if he were to shout commands that could confuse your men during the chaos. What if we, you and I, go to him personally and convince him to retire for the night. If that doesn't work, well, we can then proceed how you originally planned. Just, if we keep ourselves near Lord Cornick, we can nullify anything he tries to say that could compromise our objective."

"Other than that concern, I believe everything else is straightforward."

 

[Lorsh]

Master Barnaby considers this. "You raise a good point, Lord Artos. I will dispatch my men to the rooms where I know the undead are being kept, but you and I- yes, we will go to him ourselves first," he decides. The man glances to his co-conspirators, the serjeant-of-the-guard and the scribe, and nods. "Well, if nothing else needs to be said, I will gather the rest of my men and meet you on the steps leading up to the keep, Lord Artos."

 

[Brookswho]

Artos displays confidence in their plan. "Very well, Barnaby. I will meet you outside the keep when I see that you have gathered. In the meantime, I will run my men through what's about to go down." He gestures dismissal to Barnaby before signaling for his men to gather around.

He briefly covers the essentials of the objective to his men. He makes sure to let his men know to be subtle about their intentions, not to draw any unwarranted attention prior to the plan's execution. "It appears that we will bloody our swords tonight," he states nonchalantly, "for we will measure just how dangerous these creatures are." Artos looks over his men, seeing if there is any fear or doubt in their eyes. "I want you to stick to pairs. Never allow yourself to be singled out in the chaos to come. Sticking with a partner will guarantee you more safety than otherwise." He is also sure to mention that multiple pairs can move together, the point being that he doesn't want one man to find himself alone during the mission. "Now... we don't even know if these things can be killed. But do not panic. If we can't kill them, we can immobilize them. Make them useless. If they refuse to die, we'll remove their arms and legs. Then, their head."

He makes sure to emanate certainty in this plan, to let his men know of his confidence, to inspire courage.

"We will send these beasts where they belong."

And with that, he keeps lookout to see when Barnaby's men have gathered. Once(If) they have gathered, he will approach the keep with his men.

 

[Lorsh]

[I think that's how many men you had, 6 then 1 went home]

A few men seem to be shifting nervously. It comes from a deep-seeming dread that you may have noticed in several other people. Undeath was not of this era. Proper magicks had not been heard of for centuries, so naturally, all Paragon-fearing folk should have reason to be unnerved.

However, your men listen closely to your words... many doubts are suddenly assuaged by your clarity and discussion of practical tactics. There is no large hurrah at the end of your speech, but the men are no longer pissing their britches at the whole horrifying phenomenon.

After a few minutes, you see armed servants and guards gather nearby, splitting into two groups of around a dozen men each, one led by the scribe, one led by the serjeant-of-the-guard. Barnaby approaches your group of six (including yourself) with five swordsmen at his back. "Let us make up the third lance," he says. "We will go in first, to address my Lord Brother, the lances behind will follow in shortly thereafter." His men draw steel, but he stays his hand.

The doors to the keep are pushed open, and Barnaby orders some of his men to peel off and enter the first set of side rooms. Barnaby continues to walk forward, without a sword in hand. "Cornick," he calls. The lord has already risen to his feet, eyes wide. There are two guards on either side of him, fully dressed with mail, now with their hands on their sword hilts. "What is the meaning of this, this is preposterous," the Lord declares. Barnaby opens his mouth to speak again, but he is interrupted by a raspy, ghoulish croak from the stairwell- one that might have belonged to a woman. The sound seems to interrupt his train of thought- and it gives Cornick enough time to launch a tirade.

"Barnaby- you bastard! You do not know what you are doing! Damn you!..."

 

[Brookswho]

The wait prior to Barnaby's arrival made Artos realize that he wasn't free of anxiety and nerves himself. He had a way of prioritizing his feelings, how he should present himself in certain situations to accommodate his desire, but waiting was different. When there was simply no alternative to waiting, that's when the ice would trickle down his spine. It wasn't that Artos was absent of fear this whole time, it's just that he finally started to feel its presence.

It was a relief to see Barnaby and his men gather. Artos nodded in acknowledgement to the organization of the units and that he and Barnaby's would enter first. He didn't know what to expect upon entering that hall and hoped that his men would hold their composure if events swayed unfavorable. Whatever would happen, Artos was ready to do his part to keep it all under control.

Entering the hall, his eyes quickly scanned the environment. The first items of interest were Cornick and his two armed retainers. Reading the lord's reaction, he immediately knew that this could turn ugly if the cards weren't played right.

------

"What is the meaning of this, this is preposterous," the Lord declares.

Artos stands a few paces behind Barnaby, allowing him the opportunity to talk down his brother, after all, he displayed confidence upon their entry and even initiated the encounter. A wheezing cackle from some off-ward staircase causes Barnaby to stumble in his speech, just enough for Cornick to gain the advantage. Artos can't blame Barnaby's blunder, the sound was well timed to throw anyone off. Although, Artos cringes upon having to hear Cornick scream almost incoherently in rage.

"Barnaby- you bastard! You do not know what you are doing! Damn you!..."

Sighing heavily, Artos knows that it's up to him now. Clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes towards Cornick, he steps lightly forward so that he is now to the front-left of Barnaby.

"Lord Cornick," he starts sternly, as to draw the attention towards himself, "your landholdings are in peril while you do nothing but sit, fiends run rampant throughout... even here within your own walls. You cannot perch there, on your arse, and tell me that you have control- that things will get better."

Before such a comment can cause ruckus, Artos presents the Baron's document, held outward and upright in one hand. "Baron Tuwold has declared, due to the prominence of this situation, that I, Lord Terryn, am Lord Protector of these lands. You have been deemed temporarily unfit, Cornick. Your inaction has spoken very loudly across our realm."

He turns his attention towards the guards that grasp the hilts of their blades. "We have not come here to spill the blood of the living. Why fight against your fellow brethren in protection of those who are no longer themselves, who have been violently possessed by demonic entities?" He turns his attention towards everyone, "Honor the fallen by dispersing the evil that has mutilated their being! I am sure, if they could look upon the happenings here, that they would be utterly disgusted with you allowing their forms to be humiliated by those monsters!"

He allows his performance to render, and for the tension to cool, just for a moment. He continues, "the first step to saving the Hycott lands- no, the Hycott people- starts with liberating this very castle of the undead."

It’s not that he’s doing this for heroism or of the sorts. He could really care less for what happens to the Hycott people. Simply, the outcome of this situation could prove beneficial to Artos in terms of deals, influence, and reputation, among other things.

He tightens his face and observes Lord Cornick for reaction. His dominant hand rests against his waist, not far from his scabbard.

 

[Lorsh]

Barnaby maintains a steely gaze- or at least his best attempt at one, directed towards his brother.

Your words sink into Cornick, the baronial warrant throwing him off as he seems to look dazed for a moment, reeling to look at his two guards.

You and Barnaby have more men... Cornick's two guards' eyes dart around for a few moments, but slowly begin to back away from their lord. "Cowards," Cornick declares. He focuses on you for a moment, but the man's gaze drifts between the Terryns and the Hycott 'traitors'. "Abandoning me- in your time of need- my time of need!" Now towards you. "I see you now, I see the snakes- the lies, the damned Terryn lies!" He draws his sword, holding it in a shaky grip.

At this point, Barnaby grits his teeth and finally draws his own. Cornick's guards awkwardly step over to join the other Hycott soldiers standing behind their Lord's brother. The castle guards don't seem interested in fighting each other.

At this point, many boots can be heard on the floorboards of the castle as various men break into the rooms, ghoulish rasps, screams, squelches, and fluidic splatters being heard as blades taste dead flesh. "Lord Artos," Barnaby says, keeping an eye on his elder sibling, "take your men upstairs, finish them off... Check all the servants' quarters."

 

[Brookswho]

Artos subtly curls his lips upward upon being called a snake. Seeing the lord draw his sword, and anxiously at that, makes Artos snicker lightly. "Cornick, Cornick, Cornick," he shakes his head, "you're too hardheaded for your own good." He motions his arms outward and speaks again, this time with more urgency, "Look around you and see the truth, this needs to be done in order to heal these lands- even your men see this."

The sounds of bursting doors, raspy screams, and thundering boots indicate the start of the ghoul cleansing. There's not much Lord Cornick can do to prevent this from happening, Artos figures. The plan is fully in motion now.

"Lord Artos," Barnaby says, keeping an eye on his elder sibling, "take your men upstairs, finish them off... Check all the servants' quarters."

Artos nods to Barnaby, "We'll regroup here once this is over. And I do hope you know how to use that thing (indicating towards the sword) if it comes to a duel." And with that, he steps away backwards while condescendingly gazing upon Cornick's soul, for further salt on the wounds. Then, flinging himself around, he motions for his men to follow him, and marches towards the upper floor.

"Remember the strategy, we move as groups of two."

 

[Lorsh]

After leaving the brothers, you take your five good men and ascend the steps to the second level of the castle. It seems at least one of the lances has broken apart, and a pair of Hycott soldiers ultimately follow your men upstairs as well. "Purge the darkness! Kill them all, lads!" one of them shouts.

Upon reaching the top, several doors are kicked open, and swords are wrenched into the skulls of several wistful-looking ghouls, including some reanimated women and children. The noble family of House Hycott looks to be in a sorry state indeed.

Your men follow your directions, keeping close to a partner as the rooms are cleared. Black blood stains the stones, and an acrid stench fills the air as the undead are dispatched.

"Urkkkrf-"

At some point during the slaughter, your guard Orrick (Terryn Horseman) has his throat bitten out, along with the two Hycott soldiers that accidentally barged into a room that was filled with more ghoulified servants than they could handle. Harren, Orrick's partner, kneels in the room, sobbing. Three men lie choking on their own blood.

Another door is kicked open, and you see another one of your soldiers impaling a servant girl on his sword. He looks at her incredulously as she slides off the blade and onto the floor, beginning to spill forth scarlet, rather than black. "Agh, by Hallowed blood!" His partner pushes past him, steps into the room, and decapitates the final ghoul with a single swing of his sword- though, it was too busy feasting on a corpse to move its neck away anyway.

"They are all slain, milord," one of your men huffs, attempting to shake some of the bile from his blade.

 

[Brookswho]

Gritting his teeth and curling his nose in disgust from the stench that remains, Artos looks upon the aftermath. The oily black liquid that pools and trails across the stone unnerves him, along with the corpses that produced it. It is likely the most gruesome sight he has ever witnessed. He feels as if he should be more troubled than he actually is, that he's actually too calm... too seemingly comfortable to be standing in that hall.

It's a sorry sight, that is for sure, but... why aren't I more bothered? I'm not even shaking in the slightest. Could this be from years of procuring an image of valiance, that I actually gained valiant traits? As silly as that sou-

His egocentric thoughts are interrupted as one of his men breaks the trance.

"They are all slain, milord," one of your men huffs, attempting to shake some of the bile from his blade.

And all it costed was three casualties- well, really just one. The other two didn't count to Artos, as their deaths held no significance to him. The best purpose they served was that they died in place of more of his own.

"And for the better," he responds to his retainer, "know that we've enacted the Paragon's justice on this dark night."

He is by no means a devout student of faith, but most people are, and religion is a most powerful thing. He hopes such an idea will reassure his men. Reassure them that their fallen brother was not lost in vain, that the killing was not for naught, that they served the greater good by enacting his orders.

"Let us go see how Barnaby is faring in the standoff with the Cornish Hen (1)."

(1) Insulting name towards Lord Cornick that Artos thought was clever. In this case, the word "Cornish" derives from word-play on "Cornick", rather than "Cornwall".