As Tric has been enjoying ale with Terwaen, Mate has happily settled himself onto the top level of the crutch, leaving Tric just the lower handle to use for balance. He suddenly realizes Heppa is nowhere around, which is strange, since enjoying a new drink would surely remind her happily of Alric. Tric fills a mug and sets it aside to share with his cousin when he finds her again after these festivities. She can’t have gone off too far. Kachen and Heledd are also still absent, so maybe that’s where she vanished off to.
Although Tric is happy for his sister and her new appointment, he feels bad for his earlier deflection of her completely reasonable question. Terwaen seems to have forgotten about that, and the safe thing to do would be to just let it pass. But she is his sister and she saved his life. She deserves to know something of what is going on. Maybe not the full truth, but there are certainly parts Tric can share. Telling her is the responsible thing for this budding elvish lord to do.
When Rugg and Anyc have returned to their posts in the healing tent and it is just Tric and Terwaen by the ale cask, he broaches the topic in a roundabout manner, first by asking how Terwaen herself is doing following the battle. She just has scruffs and bruises, nothing out of the ordinary. Fortunately she took no solid hits herself. Tric looks down sheepishly. “And, I wanted to apologize… You did ask what we were doing out on that part of the battlefield. We got distracted by some very important revelations, but you put your life on the line, so you deserve to know a little bit of it. We are trying to infiltrate one of the orc encampments. That’s me, Heppa, and you may have seen our mage, or scholar. And we also have a…” A what? A thief? A sneaky person? Tric mulls over how to describe Heledd in a way that won’t offend his honorable sister. She is certainly not just a waitress.
“Oh, is she with the militia?” Terwaen asks.
“She’s from South Tower, but she’s not in the army,” Tric settles on. “We wanted a more diverse group, and she had the right skills to help get us in safely.” He decides to leave it at that, as far as Heledd goes. Terwaen knows a lot more than Tric does about how armies work so he needs to rein in his inclination to make up details. “We know that the orcs are in possession of certain artifacts that we need to recover, including my father’s circlet of elvish nobility,” he tells Terwaen. He deliberately makes no mention of the very important journals they also seek.
“They stole material from the elves that you are trying to get back?”
“Yes. That’s something we need to do, and we can’t let the chaos of battle disrupt that. It’s something that I personally need to make sure happens.” Tric quickly softens the impact of that suggestion, continuing, “But we’re not just using the battle as a way to get that back. We need to make sure it isn’t misused. And I’m not looking for any assistance.” Tric points out across the field at the triangular orange flags. “You might see us out there, and I wouldn’t want you to interfere because you didn’t know what we were doing.”
Now that he has started talking, Tric finds he can’t stop. “Oh, and we’re also going to blow up Mal-Ravanal’s citadel after this,” he adds casually.
Terwaen nods—that seems a worthy goal to her. “Regarding your initial target, we’ve been advised that the orcs with the orange flags have abducted one of the hermit mages who was part of the militia. A mage named Chassin is currently being held captive by them. That happened before the main forces arrived here. Only when we formed up with the local militia elements did we learn of this. He was abducted in late autumn. It seems to me a strange thing to happen.”
“That perhaps confirms, not the worst of my fears, but the second worst of my fears,” Tric grumbles. “You have perhaps noticed that this tribe of orcish forces working closely together with undead forces—very closely.”
“Ah,” Terwaen says, immediately understanding the significance.
“This mage, perhaps against his own will, may be being forced to summon and control such creatures.” Tric hastily adds, “I don’t know exactly how he came upon this knowledge. Mages in the hills…” He shrugs. “We’ve encountered necromancers before. I’m not saying this fellow is one. He may have learned some things and not realized it. Again, I don’t know this person, but it’s a possibility.” Tric pauses for a moment, considering. “Do you need this person rescued?” he asks Terwaen.
“Many of his friends would be happy to have him returned safely,” she says brightly.
“I will rescue this person,” Tric declares, with no qualifying statements. Terwaen saved his life, and he feels like the responsible thing to do would be to pay that forward. The orcs are probably using Chassin’s knowledge, but maybe he hasn’t been corrupted. If he has been… then Tric will “rescue” him in a different way and then deal with the ensuing fallout among the humans for the perceived breach of promise.
With that all settled, Tric picks up the mug of ale to deliver to Heppa. He’s just about to ask Terwaen if she saw which way his cousin went when a brilliant flash of light illuminates one of the smaller tents. A tall human woman holding a staff steps out. It has a crystal atop it with beads and feathers dangling below, and cording twists around the wood itself. She has dark brown skin and curly ringlets like Tric’s, and she wears bluish-gray robes over a white underdress. Projecting her voice, she shouts, “Mail call!”