6th Day of Needfest, 566 CY

The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy

Aslan looked around again.

The paladin knew there was no point to it. He had been examining their surroundings, going over everyone's assigned role with them so often that they now cringed if they saw him approaching and rehashing the plan to the point where any pretense at further preparation was a bad joke.

But as Lord Odin himself was his witness, Aslan couldn't help it.

He had awoken from his sleep four hours ago physically and psionically refreshed but mentally wrecked.

What might be the fiercest battle in their collective lives might be only hours away and- as loathe as he was to admit how it pained him- Argo and Caroline Bigfellow would not be here when it happened.

The paladin again tried to stop second-guessing Elrohir; or more accurately, second-guessing himself for agreeing to The Master Plan. He knew it served no purpose; Aslan himself had said there was no turning back now and he knew he was right about that.

Still, what had seemed risky but plausible four days ago now seemed absolutely insane.

Elrohir's Plan

1. Via courier and sending prayers from Yenom, the owners of the Brass Dragon Inn would spread the word in Willip that Argo Bigfellow Junior and his wife Caroline had been assassinated by the same Emerald Serpent terrorist organization that they had been warning the entire county about for weeks now, no doubt in retaliation for that very same activity (Done)

2. Unknown to anyone outside the party, Aslan would teleport Argo and Caroline to the Lone Heath to keep them out of sight. While there, they could assist Argo's father with his problems in whatever way possible (First part done, second part ongoing)

3. The party had made it known that a public funeral service for the Bigfellows would be held outside the Brass Dragon Inn on the afternoon of the 6th day of the Needfest Festival. All who wished could attend. Afterwards, those who wished could partake of free drinks inside the Brass Dragon but only, in deference to the ceremony's theme of Peace Among Men, if all armor and weapons were left outside (Done)

4. Melinjaro, the High Priest of the Olympian Temple in Willip, would officiate at the funeral service. Secretly filled in on the plan, he would be there as an ally when the Serpent inevitably appeared (Modified; Melinjaro had not been available but had substituted his assistant Ukansis, who had readily agreed)

5. Yenom would utilize powerful prayers known as glyphs of warding to inscribe invisible protections on all doors of the inn, including the one to the Tall Tales Room. These glyphs would be triggered by anyone of evil alignment opening the door in question. Some of the glyphs would blast the transgressor with divine lightning; others would inflict prayers like hold person or blindness on the villain (Done)

6. Although they were not expecting an attack during the ceremony itself, Aslan would be present at all time, using his innate ability to detect evil to keep a watchful eye. The other members of the Tr-Worldians would of course also be there, to say a few words about the dearly departed and to keep an eye out for suspicious characters. (Ongoing)

7. After the funeral, the party would retire to the Tall Tales Room, but only after Cygnus and Zantac covertly cast a spell they had recently learned called disguise self, that allowed the recipient to change his or her appearance to sight (but not to touch). Each member of the Tri-Worldians would appear unarmed and unarmored. (Planned)

8. Thus prepared (and with all servants safely ensconced below), they would be ready and waiting along with Yenom, Gastar and Ukansis when the Emerald Serpent took the bait and attacked their seemingly helpless prey (Prayed to One's God For)

Great Watcher, thought Aslan, shaking his head. What was I thinking?

He glanced over again, this time at Laertes.

It had been late the previous evening. After switching the telepathic link from his helmet from Elrohir to Argo, Aslan had teleported home from Orzdi, given the others a quick update on the status of the rebels there and headed out to his cabin, looking forward to a night's rest that didn't involve being surrounded by (if not actually attacked by) clouds of mosquitos that were so dense as to be opaque.

He'd been surprised to see the half-orc standing by his cabin door, apparently waiting for him. The paladin had been so exhausted that it hadn't registered that Laertes hadn't been with the others when he'd briefed them. If he'd been forced to think about it, Aslan would have guessed that the former lumberjack had accepted the offer from the Azure Order, who had passed by yesterday on their way back northwest.

Yet here he was.

"Athlan!" the half-orc said, stepping forward to grasp the paladin's hand vigorously and shake it. "I know you need to get your reth. I don't know," he hesitated, "how much I'll get to thpeak with you tomorrow, tho I juth wanted to thay 'thank you.'"

He gulped. "And if I don't get the chanth later, goodbye."

Aslan frowned. "You're leaving?" he asked, perplexed. "But didn't the patrol come by yesterday? And hadn't they demanded an answer from you by then?"

Laertes nodded.

"They did, but oneth I found out the timing of Elrohir'th plan, I told them I'd have to stay an extra day here. I'll eathily be able to catch up with them. There'th no way in Hadeth that I'm abandoning you people in your hour of need."

The teenager seemed to straighten up a little more as a look of both pride and guilt suffused his face.

"You never abandoned me, even if I didn't alwayth tell you how grateful I wath."

Aslan had been about to relay both his sorrow that his group was losing the good friend it had just so recently made and his pride that the Azure Order was about to receive a new recruit that would, if nothing else, open their eyes to look beyond the surface when searching for faith and loyalty.

Then he noticed that Laertes was still carrying the round shield of the Order.

The paladin's eyes narrowed, but Laertes, seeming to guess the paladin's thoughts, smiled while pointing at his waist.

"No," he said to Aslan's unspoken question. "I gave the obi to Elrohir two dayth ago."

"Thank you, Laertes," Aslan said as he smiled and squeezed the half-orc's shoulder. "Now I can get some sleep with a clear mind. You had best turn in as well. We may have an eventful day tomorrow."

"Counting on it, Athlan," Laertes replied, suddenly sounding a lot more grown-up to the paladin. "I'm counting on it."

The half-orc was now carrying half of a coffin. He and Cygnus maneuvered the wooden box, which was filled with dirt but (obviously) no corpse through the crowd to one of two wooden tables that had been set up near to where Aslan was currently standing, which was about fifty feet in front of the Brass Dragon's front door. The second table already sported an identical coffin.

The crowd, Aslan thought. Another complication we didn't see coming.

The Tri-Worldians had wanted the word out about the Bigfellows' funeral more than they actually wanted people to attend. Most commoners lived far too busy lives to take days off to travel ten leagues on short notice to attend a funeral and then to travel another ten leagues back home. The party hadn't expected more than a dozen people perhaps to actually show up.

Aslan's last count had tallied at least sixty.

This was more than an inconvenience; it was actually impacting The Plan. Both Yenom and Ukansis had been forced to utilize many of their daily prayers to provide food and drink for the unexpected crowd, as their regular supply train still wasn't expected for at least another two days. While the actual beer, ales and wine purchased from Willip were in the Brass Dragon's cellar awaiting the after-ceremony wake, each prayer the two clerics utilized in this fashion was one less that they would have available when combat broke out.

The crowd was milling listlessly about. Aslan had swept them once or twice for evil, noting that even if he did detect any sinister auras, it would take time to isolate them; time enough for his target to be aware of what the paladin was doing.

Above all else, Aslan didn't want any more innocents being hurt. In his mind, a citizen of the Crown being killed in the crossfire between them and the Emerald Serpent was no less a tragedy than being murdered straight-out by that monster or his allies.

Perhaps even more of one.

He saw Yenom, now wearing a chain shirt with a heavy steel shield slung across his back and sporting a heavy mace that he'd borrowed from a caravan crate, standing about twenty feet off, engrossed in conversation with Nesco Cynewine. When the ranger headed back into the inn on some errand, Yenom had looked over and caught the paladin's eye.

The cleric did not smile.

The priest of Zilchus had stepped forward just as Aslan was about to leave the inn last night to retire to his cabin. His expression had been even more serious than it had been that first day they'd conversed in the Tall Tales Room.

Yenom spoke to the whole party but his words were clearly directed to Elrohir.

"I just cast one last divination."

The others looked at him without comment.

The cleric shrugged. "I'm turning in and still had it available. Thought it wouldn't hurt to see if there was any more information available from above regarding what might happen tomorrow."

"And?" Elrohir asked after a moment when Yenom did not immediately continue.

The priest hesitated; his light blue eyes sought and held those of their team leader.

"It said," he announced after a deep breath, "All thine enemies are against thee."

The sober silence that followed was broken by someone Aslan hadn't expected.

"That's actually good news," said Cygnus as he rose from the chair he'd been sitting in.

"How exactly do you figure that, Cygnus?" asked Nesco, frowning.

'Simple," the wizard replied. "It means that the Serpent is pulling out all the stops; every last blasted member will be in on the assault tomorrow, so when we defeat them once and for all, that will be the end of the Emerald Serpent forever."

He smiled grimly, seemingly to himself.

"Another name off my List."

"Cygnus," Aslan felt constrained to point out. "I can think of other interpretations of that phrase."

"The die is cast, Aslan," Cygnus responded, his face hard.

Aslan had decided against arguing the point but had snuck a quick peek at Elrohir before leaving the common room.

The ranger had said nothing but if his expression was any window into his thoughts, he was feeling a lot closer to the paladin's frame of mind right now than he was to that of the tall mage.

Aslan was suddenly feeling bone-tired again, as if his mental state was duplicating itself onto his physical frame. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to be in his cabin. Even though it was less than to hours until midsun and he knew he'd never get any sleep even if he tried it, the very longing for rest seemed to add to his weariness.

The sound of sixty people milling about felt like the buzzing of some enormous dire bee hive to the paladin. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

At least the weather was cooperating. The sky was a brilliant cloudless blue and the air temperature was in the upper forties, crisp but not too cold due to the lack of a strong breeze.

And the air felt like air, not water, as it coursed through his lungs.

"Pardon me, good sir."

Aslan opened his eyes to see another member of the crowd before him. The paladin had already spoken with at least half a dozen guests today, accepting their words of commiseration with a carefully constructed expression that conveyed both sorrow and appreciation.

This one was, like most of the mourners, a middle-aged human male. He was of average height and well built, although not so much as to be exceptional. His hair, worn almost to his shoulders, was a very light brown, starting to fade to salt-and-pepper. He was dressed simply, in a gray shirt and trousers, and wore a somber expression to match that of the paladin.

"I just wanted to tell you, good sir," the man said, wringing his hands together nervously and not quite looking the paladin in the eye, "that I and my family are most grateful for all the good deeds that you have done for the good citizens of Willip, and that I always believed you were innocent, even when some were questioning that last Fireseek. I just wanted," he paused, "to offer my personal condolences for the loss of your friends."

Aslan's prescripted smile had more weariness in it than he had intended, but the man either didn't notice or didn't take offense.

"Thank you, kind sir," the paladin nodded. He was about to turn away to once again scan the area when he remembered proper manners were due this person just as it had been due to the preceding six or seven he'd already greeted today.

"And your name is…?" Aslan queried, his hand out without thinking.

The man took the hand and gave a quick, embarrassed smile as he shook it.

"Olec Hardson," he said. "Experienced wainwright, at your service, sir."