Ivelda Evers's Story

6565D1

”Preacher Carama, breakfast is ready.” said an invisible voice on the other side of the door. The young mans eyes opened and immediately closed wincing in pain. He didn’t know how he had eventually fallen asleep. As soon as he had removed himself from the Throne Room he had gone back to the church. He was ashamed of his brothers, but most of all of himself. It had been a long time since he had felt the Great Ivelda’s wrath aimed at him, and he had not missed it. He couldn’t believe how he had lost his patience in front of her. She had been right, and he was not worthy of being in her presence after that.

He had left her Throne Room feeling uncomfortable, not speaking to the others. He didn’t know it was possible, but Eike had looked at him with smugness in his eyes. The child had been right, Benedicto had screwed up, badly. Back at the church he had prayed in solace for hours. He had asked for forgiveness even though he did not deserve it. He was unsure what he could do in order to get into Ivelda’s good grace again. Back in his room, after his prayer session, he had felt undeserving of sleep. Why should he enjoy these luxuries when his Goddess was disgusted by him. He had settled on a compromise and had removed the straw from the wooden undercarriage, causing him to sleep on top of the wood only.

It was for this reason his back was in spasms at the moment. He tried to stretch to make the pain less, but reconsidered. He deserved the pain, he deserved to suffer as he had made Ivelda suffer with his actions. It was not just justified he had to be in pain, it was necessary. He washed his face in the bowl of water before he left his room, dressed in his modest Preacher robes. The only difference between his clothes now and the monks robes was the color. His garment was pitch black, as he always preferred. This was the garment he usually wore while stationed in the capital.

He sat down for breakfast with the others. He ate with all of them, as they were all servants of the Great Ivelda. He led the prayer before they started with their simple meal. He would wait until after dinner to announce his plan of a 40-day fasting in honour of their Goddess. It was not an uncommon occurrence, happening about once or twice a year. He always felt it was a good test of the loyalty of the church members. The fasting was meant for the preachers and monks and any others employed by the church.

Before breakfast was over, a messenger came to Benedicto’s side. ”Honorable Preacher Carama, I have a letter for you from Master Rock.” With a steady hand the messenger handed over a letter. The wax still felt slightly warm to the touch, but no doubt came from the Guard Commander. It was his seal that had closed the letter. He thanked the messenger for his prompt delivery and opened the letter immediately. If it came from Thaddeus it had to be urgent.

Benedicto read the letter with much attention. The monks around him only heard the sounds of loud uttered ”hmhmm” and ”yes!” and ”exactly!”
The words on the letter were controlled, but Benedicto could still feel the frustration behind them. The same frustration he had been feeling after being send out. ”Fellow believers, please excuse me from breakfast. I must write back to Master Rock without delay.”
He shoved the wooden bench back violently as he got up from the table. He clenched the letter in his hand as he hastened back to his chambers. Whence inside he was happy to see someone already prepared his writing materials. He sat down behind his desk and started to write a letter back.

Dear Commander Rock,

I was relieved to receive your letter concerning this. I cannot properly rest or do my duties while thinking about yesterdays upset. Indeed it can be expected for the others to act the way they do, but we should be able to control our responses at all times. We are once again privileged with the grace of our Goddess Ivelda.

It will be a test of the mind to see this through. Our alignment with the others has been off since 10 minutes after we were all in a room together. However, it is more imminent than ever that our priorities are all set on Ivelda’s needs instead of our personal needs.

I avail any time any place for this meeting to happen. Moreover, we can indeed discuss this today. I hope brother Adrian will be able to offer his guidance as well. He is a sharp man with a good eye for compromise. Until we meet I will pray on a successful outcome. Please note I will be available in our church, unless otherwise needed by our Grace.

With patience and sincerity I await,
P. Benedicto Carama

As he finished the reply he called in one of the monks close by to take the message back to Thaddeus. His own personal wax seal was still cooling down as the monk went on his way already. Next he left his chambers to conduct meetings and continue the comings and goings of the church. He often received requests for advise from people throughout the lands, and he spend a considerable amount of time responding to them. He had to keep ears and eyes open over the entire continent.

There was a loud knocking on his door, but before he could tell the person to enter the door already flew open. For the time that day a messenger appeared. ”Well, I have never seen such rude….”
The man interrupted before he could continue his sentence. ”There’s been an assassination attempt on the Queen, your grace, she requests your immediate presence in the Throne Room.”
Benedicto got up immediately, walking with the messenger towards the entrance of the church. He heard the bell from the Castle in the background. ”Hey, brother!” he shouted at one of the priests he passed. ”Sound our bells as well, amplify this misdeed and put fear in the hearts of all that sink to this type of travesty!”

When they came outside, only the messengers horse was waiting. ”You may find another one close by, but I can not delay!” Without another word, Benedicto got on the horse confidently and rode at speed to the Castle. The Castle gates opened on his appearance, and closed immediately after his horse passed through. He got off close to the entrance door, and walked bristly towards the Throne Room, arriving visibly sweating and out of breath. Walking in he threw himself at her feet. ”Oh great Ivelda, what injustice has stricken you this day. Are you well? Are you okay?”

---

---

18D10A

It was halfway the morning before Raiden was able to lift both eye lids. Last days gathering in the Throne room had been uncomfortable at best, and they did not take dinner together. The bird he had asked for had been brought to his room, and its skeleton was now waiting to be picked up from the table in Raiden’s room. He still had a hard time believing that his brothers showed up in that state. It’s a level of stupidity he not much cared for. This is what you get when you’re around people.

His mind wandered to life outside the capital. He had been here for no more than a day, but he was longing for leaving already. Cold mountains, hot deserts, dark forests or rainy swamps, it all was better than this. However, unless Ivelda send hi on his way there was little he could do. He had a hard time deciding if this was home or prison. He was happy to see Ivelda, of course, but he would be happier to receive an assignment from her. He was like an arrow himself. Worth little in you hand, but highly effective when aimed at something.

He lifted his legs out the bed and spotted his clothes, neatly folded on a chair. The old man running his bath must have folded them after he fell asleep. After getting dressed Raiden made his way to the archery range, which was located near the city guards barracks. Nobody seemed to be practising when he walked onto the range. He did see a few of the guards sitting around a table, all with drinks in front of them that were strictly not allowed while on duty.
”A little early in the morning for disobedience, don’t you think?” he spoke loud enough for all of them to easily hear him.
Three of them had their backs to him. The biggest of them stood up slowly, and spoke back before turning around.
”Seems to me it’s early enough for you to fuck off, range is taken squirt.” The man finally turned around and slowly but surely Raiden could see the recognition settling in on the mans face.

The other men had laughed at the comment before, but they too seemed to realise there were not that many pink haired archers in the capital. The big guy seemed to be lost for words a bit as another one of them tried to paddle back in their rudeness. ”Master Raiden, our apologies…, we didn’t expect…we didn’t know you would be joining us today.”
”So, you need to know of my arrival before you fill yourself up with alcohol on a range where you practice precision. I doubt Commander Rock would be appreciative of this.”

”Master Raiden, we only drank a little. We promise it did not affect our accuracy. We…we still can perform in the same manner.” Raiden could see on their faces, they were scared their commander was about to find out.
”You’re sure of that, huh?” he asked them with a smirk on his face. ”Let’s put it to the test. Let’s have a match. One arrow per person, if my arrow is closest to the target, I’ll tell dear Thaddeus on you. One of your arrows is closer to the target, you will just promise not to do it again and I’ll be on my merry way. Agreed?”
The men looked at each other and nodded as one.

One by one they grabbed their bows and arrows and lined up at the shooting line. All of them visibly nervous. They did not have much choice in the matter. The option was a mere illusion thrown up by Raiden as they all knew he was a better shooter than anyone in the guard. But he did not have his fun yet. ”Hold on, gents. I don’t believe I have clarified what the target is yet.” He picked up one of their drinking mugs, and told the big guy to come with him. They walked towards the target line, about 30 meters away. ”You were rather rude to me earlier, were you not?”
The guy was shaking in his boots. ”I was not aware it was you, Sir, I…I do apologise, it will never happen again.”
They reached the line. ”We will see about that. Now stand up straight against the target. Put this mug on top of your head and be very very quiet.”
The man did as asked. As Raiden walked back to the shooting line he heard the big man whimpering. ”Like I said, stand very quiet. It really is your best chance.” he shouted over his shoulder.

”Okay, I think you get the picture. In case you need clarification, the mug is your target. That shouldn’t be a problem for a member of the guard, now should it. I mean…it’s only 30 meters and you’re all trained archers. Finest in the land….”
The first man put the arrow on his bow and took aim. His hand shaking and his eyes blinking ferociously to get a better look at the target.
”Any second now, please.” Raiden complained impatiently.
The arrow released and flew through the air. The arrow widely missed the target and flew over the target easily.
”Wow…, unimpressive….NEXT!”

The second man lined up. Much the same as the man before him, he aimed widely off the target and released his arrow. Clearly not wanting to put an arrow in his friend by accident.
”Disgraceful. Next man missing the board completely, gets to shoot again and again until he hits it. You put yourself in this position, now be man enough to get yourself out of it. A bad archer is one thing, a coward is completely different.”
The third and youngest of all lined up and pulled the string back. He was small in size and most likely was the furthest gone of all of them. He took a deep breath and on his next breath out, he released the arrow. Not a second later a loud thud showed he had hit the target board at least. It was too far of to the right to even be near the mug, but it was a decent shot.
”Not bad, we seem to be getting there. Last one, before I give it a try.”

The last man readied the arrow. He seemed confident, but Raiden could see the tip of the arrow moving around as the man tried to aim. The moment it came off the bow, Raiden knew it had been a bad shot. The cry of the big guy with the mug on his head proved it. The arrow was firmly lodged in his shoulder, went through the body and pinned the man to the target.
”Phew, remind me never to go out hunting with you. Let’s hope it didn’t hurt him too bad.” he laughed as the big guy still yammered on complaining.

”Fine, let me show you how it’s done, before I report to Commander Rock.”
He put the arrow on and pulled back the string. ”See gents, they say it’s the practice, the strength of your arm, and a keen eye. I won’t disagree practice helps, but what’s even better is not drinking alcohol before shooting.”
He let go of the string and the arrow flew straight for the target. It skewered the mug to the board, barely spilling a drop inside.

He looked at them smugly. Before speaking again the bell started ringing in the background. Raiden listened to the pattern in the same way the archers did. They all recognised it at the same time. ”An assassination attempt…. It can’t be…”
He turned his attention back to the archers. He pointed out the first three, making sure the young man was included. ”You three, report to the Southgate, it’s the closest one from here. And you..” grabbing the shoulder of the last one. ”You take your arrow out of your friend and guard the armory. There is too much ammo here to let it go unguarded.”

Before waiting if they all understood the instructions, he ran off the range. He know the castle would be going into lockdown, so it made little sense to make his way over. He was concerned, of course, but the alarm was of an assassination attempt, not an assassination. I better concentrate on getting the piece of shit that tried to kill our Queen.

After the Castle, the church was the building with the highest vantage point in the city. There was a small group of horses in the stall of the barracks. He jumped on the first one he could see and sped off to the church. It took him less than 5 minutes to arrive. The streets were in chaos along the way. People ran home and the guard was chasing people left, right and center.
As he arrived he could see the tall stature of the priest, heading in the direction of the Castle. No worries, I don’t need his permission to climb his church.
Without anyone trying to stop him, he ran up the stairs to the bell tower, the highest point. The bells were getting louder, literally giving him a headache along the way. He climbed up the small roof topping the building, finally in the spot he had been looking for. His eagle eye scanned the streets as he noticed most people fleeing indoors. He saw all the gates closed and patrols lining the city walls. ”Come out, come out wherever you are.”

”The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something that we do not understand.”
Code ~ #088A29

---

The forgiveness of his Queen brought instant relief to Ryder’s features. He looked up at her with adoration in his eyes, as it was evident that he held nothing but complete devotion for the woman before him. Bowing his head once more, he rose lithely to his feet before bowing forward, one arm tucked neatly behind his back and the other presenting his gloved hand to assist her.

”Please, allow me to assist you personally to your throne, My Queen,” he requested. When she took his hand, he felt his heart flutter, and after offering her his elbow and placing his free hand over hers in the crook of his arm, they left her chambers, six of the royal guard awaiting them outside due to the happenings of the morning. The escort followed them all the way to the throne room, two in front and two in back holding their weapons at the ready, and one on either side of their charges holding the hilts of their swords in preparation should they need to draw them.

Ryder strode the entire length of the great hall with his Queen, ever the studious Advisor, and when they reached her impressive throne, he released her hand and assisted her to her seat before bowing in respect and taking his spot at her right-hand side. His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword, prepared should he need to draw it, and his gaze continuously surveyed the room, taking in each individual in turn so as to ensure the safety of the area was to his standards.

The men that he had ordered the guards and Lady to summon arrived quickly and in droves, including a few that he had not beckoned and would have been more than happy to have missed out on seeing - in particular, the slimy, over-devoted Benedicto. When his gaze settled on that man, the remnants of what could almost be called a scowl crossed his lips, but he made quick work of erasing the look from his features and returning them to the placid and emotionless state that they generally resided in. The pleasure that his Queen took in the man’s presence was the only reason why Ryder even tolerated the slug.

Sir Thaddeus and Sir Asher entered concurrently shortly thereafter Benedicto, cutting their timing a bit close to his fifteen-minute requirement - but they were on time, so he would not say anything. A darted glance at the waterclock nearest to the throne told him the time, and It was then that the royal painter arrived, a mousey looking man with a hunched back but hands that produced beauty that the gods themselves would envy. Giving the man a dark look, Ryder left his spot on Ivelda’s side, striding forward to the painter who came to a stumbling stop at the foot of the steps that led up to the throne.

”Painter! I recall my order being to arrive in no less than fifteen minutes, and yet you are the second to last to arrive at eighteen minutes! Do tell - do you care not should your Queen be killed in cold blood?” he demanded, his voice a near-growl as one of the few things to truly irk him were those with little respect to ones in a position of authority.

The man trembled, nearly dropping the supplies that he held as he juggled to keep everything upright. ”No, my Lord Veldine! I merely took some time to gather some supplies as my daughter is quite ill, and my wife no longer be with us,” he stammered out, his face red and expression terrified. His words seemed to pacify Ryder, whose expression gentled somewhat, and after a moment of scrutiny, with a jerk of his head to an empty spot a few feet away, the painter hurriedly made way to said spot, setting his easel and stand there. It did not take long for him to set up, and while he did, Ryder made certain that there were two guards standing close to his Queen in his stead so that he would be able to describe the features of the man that he saw in detail.

The painting did not take long, and the outcome was a young man, no older than twenty, with brown hair and light skin, a small splay of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. The most identifying characteristic, however, was the dark beauty mark that rest directly below the corner of the right side of his mouth. Nodding and giving a small sound of satisfaction, Ryder slipped a hand into the satchel that till hung at his left side, quickly withdrawing a pouch that jangled softly in his palm. Tossing it to the painter, the older man juggled it for a moment before steadying it in his grasp. A quick glance inside showed more than enough gold for his troubles, and his wrinkled eyes snapped up to meet Ryder’s, a sheen of what could almost be called tears gathering in his gaze. It was clear that although he said nothing of the payment, Ryder had overpaid the man greatly so that he could afford medicine and treatment for his daughter. The man bowed quickly, several times, his voice coming out raspy with emotion as he stammered thanks to Ryder numerous times and blessed him under Ivelda. With a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, Ryder shooed the painter away, clasping and lifting the painting that he left behind.

His long legs brought him quickly back to Ivelda’s side, where he showed her the painting and pointed out the prominent and recognizable features - the beauty mark, the freckles, and the scar that went through the young man’s left eyebrow. Once she had received a good look of the man, he turned the painting and was about to lift it above his head to show the inhabitants of the room the one that they were to seek, when the final arrival - Sir Adrian - made his entry. If it were not for the fact that the man lived so far, paired with his skills and inherent abilities, Ryder would have torn into him for his tardiness immediately - but he digressed and let it slide, as there were more important matters and the man had clearly pushed himself quickly to arrive. After a brief greeting between his Queen and Sir Adrian, she addressed her orders, receiving a curt nod and a small half-bow with a murmured, “Yes, My Lady,” in instant return.

Straightening, Ryder cleared his throat and strode to forward a few steps before raising the painting above his head, turning in a slow motion so as to give each and every inhabitant of the room a good view of the man in it. ”This man in this painting is our primary suspect for the attempted assassination of our beautiful and benevolent Queen. I am tasking each and every one of you, aside from those that our Queen has chosen to entrust with other duties pertaining to this matter, with seeking out and finding this man, if it is the last thing that you do. Failure to do so will result in severe consequences to every person that has, in turn, failed her Magnificence.” His voice echoed in the hall, making it clear that Ryder was no stranger to making announcements and speaking on the Queen’s behalf as he addressed the group. Stepping back and returning to his place directly at Ivelda’s right-hand side, he placed the painting on the floor before his feet, propping it against his knees so it remained up, his one hand returning once more to the hilt of his sword.

”On Queen Ivelda’s glory, I send those of you with duties off.” With a slight tilt of his head, Ryder pivoted his peculiar gaze to a nearby trio of guards who were awaiting instructions. “My order is that one of you fetch the entirety of those that work within the stables, that are not currently searching the grounds. Bring the remaining guard with you to watch the stables while they are being interrogated. The other, I want to fetch the medical staff, and make certain to leave a note on the wings’ entrance directing all those seeking medical attention to head to the throne room and speak to the guard outside. They are to be interrogated once we are finished with the stable hands,” he instructed. Glancing at the last man in the group, Ryder motioned to the painting at his feet and then to the man. "I want you to gather as many artists as possible. I want as many copies of this painting made in as short of a time as possible, and I want them distributed throughout the kingdom as Wanted posters." His voice was firm, holding no room for argument. The men nodded, gave a sharp salute as per their training, before leaving the great hall to see out the tasks entrusted to him.

His gaze darkening as he turned, Ryder fixated it on the kitchen staff, which had been escorted in a few minutes prior as per Ivelda’s orders. They stood surrounded on each side by guards, and many of them trembled in fear of what they knew was to undoubtedly come were they to in any way be deemed suspicious. A quick glance over of the group, however, caused Ryder’s expression to grow even darker, and he took a few steps back to Ivelda’s side, leaning slightly over to murmur in her ear.

”The man that I saw in the kitchens is not amongst the staff gathered here, My Queen. It is my belief that he may have given us the slip and perhaps is attempting to find a way either out of the castle or the kingdom as a whole. I would suggest sending any available men who are not already doing so, to comb the castle interiors and grounds, as well as not only the kingdom’s streets, but perhaps begin searching within people’s homes. It is entirely possible that this young man is not working alone, and has allies within the city walls that will harbor him until it is safe enough to smuggle him out,” he explained, straightening once more. A few quick strides later, and Ryder had lithely crossed the throne room, his intense expression situated on the kitchen staff and guards surrounding them. ”Let us begin then, shall we?” he asked, his voice soft and holding a somewhat shuddering undertone to it.

With that, he pivoted on his heel and strode to one side of the throne room where an unoccupied office sat. He came to a rather abrupt stop directly beside the door, causing the group following behind to almost slam into his back. Luckily, they were able to stop just in time, the guard’s armor clanging as they fumbled to regain their footing. Turning sharply where he stood, Ryder’s eyes immediately locked on the head chef’s gaze and narrowed. ”I believe I will start with you,” he beckoned coldly, not even a hint of a smile on his face. With a swing of the door, he motioned with his arm for the older man to enter, who did so in such a way that Ryder would have laughed if he found this situation at all amusing. One would think the man was marching into a room that he would die in, the way that he almost seemed to crawl-walk into the room. Following the man inside, the door slammed shut behind the two with a loud, ominous thud.

”The two most powerful warriors are patience and time. Leo Tolstoy.”
Code ~ #088A29

---

The interviews with those belonging to the kitchen staff were extensive yet went fairly well, at least in Ryder’s opinion. Ivelda sat in and observed, occasionally interjecting with her own queries or comments if it suited her, but for the most part giving him free rein of the interrogations. The Head Chef was the second most nervous, as he was the one who actually hired all of the kitchen staff, so if anyone were to be held directly accountable other than the would-be assassin himself, it would be the Head Chef. He didn’t have much information to give, even when Ryder resorted to not-so-idle threats. The man walked away with one fingernail barely attached as he was quite quick to crumble and divulge what little information he had - which wasn’t much, unfortunately. This led to him not so much walking away as he was more so led to the dungeons for further questioning.

They were roughly over halfway through the kitchen staff when things took a turn, and one of the young men was oddly nervous and uncertain in his answers. When everyone exploded into movement, Ryder had barely enough time to remove his sword before Adrian had already struck him down. The young man’s final words, however, lingered in Ryder’s mind, and he felt his gaze wander over towards his Queen, who was visibly shaken, undoubtedly from the second attempt on her life. Noting the information and reminding himself to ask her later about it, as he did not want to burden her at that moment when she had already been through so much in such little time. Adrian made quick work of leaving with the body, and Ryder himself left the room to call for two servants to clean the bloodied mess that had become the office’s floor.

Due to the scene, the rest of the interrogations were moved to the courtyard. At this point, he had finished his interviews; the man that was deemed suspect had been taken out, and the rest of the kitchen staff cleared by himself as well as the Queen. The rest of them would be carried out by various appointed officials by the Queen, ranging from the Head of Medicine to the Master of Beasts. Instead, Ryder would be at the Queen’s side for a majority of the remainder of the interviews, as was his duty as her advisor, occasionally wandering to check in on the interrogations and see how they were coming along. His eyes moved quickly and constantly, always taking something in, never stopping and always studying as they walked and stood, talked or remained silent in observation.

It wasn’t until the interrogations had completely finished several hours later that Ryder relaxed even slightly, and that was only enough so as to speak to his Queen in a lovely manner. Despite his growling stomach - they had worked through lunch so as to ensure the safety of the palace and their Queen - he was still there to serve her and only her. Besides, if it were not for Ivelda, he would not even be alive right now to feel hunger, so a few hunger pains were tolerable enough in the long run of things. Placing one hand over his heart and the other arm folded behind his back, he bowed forward slightly at the waist before her. ”My Queen, now that the interrogations have concluded and we sent all those deemed to be suspicious to the dungeons for further questioning, what is your command?” he asked, awaiting her response.

6565D1

When Ivelda acknowledged Ryder’s role in discovering the poison, Benedicto gritted his teeth. He had no love for the Queen’s advisor. The two of them were often at odds on how to deal with certain issues, and by all means Ryder was far too liberal and friendly with the citizens. He had never brought this up with the Queen, but he did think she was aware of the animosity between the advisor and himself.
”Indeed we have to express our sincere gratitude to Ryder for prevailing any harm that would have befallen you.” Benedicto stated without actually expressing his thanks.

The preacher rose to his feet again and stepped to the side when others were also arriving in the Throne Room. Remembering his lashing from his Goddess of the day before, he kept quiet, seeing the painting of the suspect in front of his eyes. The image burned into his soul and he could feel the anger in him rising. This person has dared to try and kill our Queen, this person needs the most severe of punishments.

Benedicto stood back to wait for instructions and looked on as the kitchen crew appeared in the Throne Room. He towered above them all and tried to read their faces. All of them looked nervous, but that was expected. He smelled a mixed stench of sweat and onions coming from all of them. With a note of disgust, Benedicto held his arm close to his nose. Appearing to be in thought, but in reality shielding himself from the smell.

He saw all of the men and women swear their loyalty to the Goddess. Out of nowhere a distracted Benedicto saw a man pull out a knife and launching for Ivelda. Adrian reacted the fastest and before the preacher could even react, the man stumbled to the floor. An audible gasp was interrupted by the man’s last words. "Curse you . . . . Ivelda . . . . Lilith and . . . the true rulers will . . . defeat you. . . . long live Prince Richard . . . .”

While Adrian wrapped the body in order to be disposed, Benedicto wandered if it was not better to display the corpse. A deterrent for anyone wanting to commit the same heinous acts. The bells of the castle sounded again in the same rhythm they had rang less than an hour before. By the time the sounds would reach the corners of the Kingdom, people would have a lot of questions. In his mind the preacher was already thinking of a phrasing in order to inform all citizens of what had happened.

Lilith….why does it sound so familiar? The name disturbed him. He could swear he had read it before, but could not for the life of him remember where and in what context. He followed the rest to the courtyard with his head in the clouds. He kept whispering the name Lilith to himself, hoping to spark some kind of memory, but nothing came to mind.

Hastily, some tables and chairs were assembled in the courtyard, set up so the interrogators could do their work. Rubbing his hands as if excited, Benedicto took place behind one of the desks. He pulled one chair back and put it to the side. He rather stand while doing the interrogation. Normally he would prefer to do this in a closed room, but with the 2 murder attempts so far, he was happy some other people were around.

The Beastmaster's people were told to line up in front of his area. He started with the simple help, making people more nervous and nervous as time went on. With the victims seated, he would stalk around them like a lion around its pray. They might be used to working with horses, but they hadn't seen a real predator at work. He saw how the others used violence here and there, but this was not his style. He used words, threats and unlikely questions to shake up the people he interrogated. The people waiting in line were able to pick up words here and there, but it was difficult for them to hear it all.

He asked only non-sensical questions to the third person. He could see tears in the young girls eyes when she had no idea how to answer him appropriately without getting into trouble. He stood behind her and put his hands on the backrest of the chair. His long fingers were rhythmically tapping the wood, just behind her ears. He asked her about her morning, the people she saw and the food she ate. Then he started to talk about her family, about the people at home that depended on her. She answered how she had a difficult time providing food for all the people at home.
”So, it would be better if there were not so many mouths to feed?” he asked calmly.
”I.. it would be easier…but…it would be easier if we would earn more money. My father lost a foot when he was in the royal guard, so he can’t help as much around the house.”
”So, you say it would be easier if he was no longer there…., interesting…”
After torturing the girl for a bit longer he asked her to swear her loyalty before he let her go. With tears running down her face she ran back into the castle.

He looked over to the next person, a young man this time. Looking at him with a friendly smile on his face he pulled the chair back, inviting him to sit down. After a stressful morning he started to feel more like his normal self again.

---

---

18D10A

His eyes darted back and forth over the streets. He could see little movement as the streets cleared out even further. The sound of slamming doors could be heard even as high up as Raiden was. His bow was relaxed in his hands, not pulling the string until he had something to shoot at.

From the right he heard a small sound over the wind. ”….HEH! Cozy up there?”
Raiden couldn’t exactly figure out what his ‘porker from another mother’ was trying to say. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be a friendly word. Looking over his shoulder he saw the Outrider riding his new drake. Raiden felt sorry for it, it couldn’t be easy to carry that amount of weight around on your back. He aimed his bow at the boar and pulled the string. So easy…it would be so easy…

He could hardly imagine the ways Ivelda would torture him if he would actually release the arrow. After the bells had stopped it took a few minutes before the bells of the castle started to ring again. Wait…what does that mean? Are they going to repeat this shit the entire day?
As an answer to the bells of the castle, the bells right below his feet started ringing again as well, probably just as confused as he was. It drowned out and other sound that would be coming from Korgan or the streets.

Raiden relaxed his bow and kept looking below to see any suspicious activities. It was hard, if only they could check inside the houses instead of just the streets.

18D10A

The bells of the church stopped as sudden as they had started. It was only now that he could hear the screaming from below the roof he was standing on. He looked down and saw one monk tried to climb on the same roof with immense difficulty. Sweating and hanging on for dear life the midlife monk tried to catch his attention.
”Master Hetral! Please, our Goddess advisor is requesting your immediate presence. A messenger is downstairs from the palace.”

Raiden but his bow back on his back. With more grace than any of the monks could have ever brought to the table, he swung himself off the ledge onto the floor below. Running down the stairs he saw a nervous wreck of a messengers eyes lit up when Raiden finally came in sight. ”Sir, you will be late! Advisor Veldine has requested you interrogate the gardening staff of the castle.”

”I think you’re forgetting your place, if you are telling me I will be late. You make one more comment like that and I’ll stab your eyes out, so you’ll never realise what time it is again.”
The messenger looked taken aback, profusely apologising and asking for his life to be spared. ”Yeah, yeah, calm down…. Pathetic… How does that windbag think I’ll be more useful interrogating gardeners than scanning the streets?”

The messenger replied hastily. ”It was on our Queens request, my liege.”
”In that case… excellent plan, I will do as she commands. ” He left the church and took the first horse he could see at the church entrance. ”Keep on praying monks, I am sure Benny wouldn’t be happy to just see you standing around.”

In top speed he left for the castle where he arrived only 5 minutes later. He got a quick rundown of what happened before he was shown the small line of gardeners he was supposed to interview. ”Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…. I can smell the manure on them from a mile away. Come on guys, isn’t this more suited for Korgans sense of smell?” he asked no one in particular. He indicated for the first guy to come forward and sit down on the chair that was placed there.

Raiden walked forward to come closer to the gardener, an old man in his fifties was staring at him with beady eyes. He crossed his arms and brought up one hand to save him from the smell. ”Good sir… if you do not tell me the truth…. We will make you take a bath. Considering your odour that must be your very worst nightmare…. So… DONT LIE!”
The man stumbled on his words. ”I’d never lie m’Lord, not to another server of our Goddess Ivelda.”
”Yeah, yeah, calm your shit… or the hands you have covered in them.”
He asked a few more questions, but the guy was as old as he was faithful… and boring.
”Fine, get back to your gardening old man. One more question…. Which of your colleagues do you find to be the least trustworthy.”
”I…I wouldn’t know, m’Lord. I..just… Jeremiah has been working here the shortest. He only started 4 years ago…

Raiden let the old man go, and asked for Jeremiah next. The man who came forward was certainly a lot younger than the man before him, but still a fair amount older than any of the Queens advisors. ”So…Jeremiah…it’s nice to meet you…but awful to smell you.” He paused as he turned around to gulp a fresh breath of air. ”How long have you been working on the castle grounds?”
The man answered to all his questions calmly.

”If I have need for water hemlock, where would I find it?” he looked the man deep in the eyes, but the man tried to look away.
”We have water hemlock in the Queens garden, m’Lord.
”Isn’t that something… the Queen was almost poisoned with water hemlock and you know exactly where to find it.”
The other gardeners would probably know the same thing.
”Where exactly can I find the water hemlock in the garden?”
”It’s in the aisle third from the back, it’s in between the Knights Milfoil and the Joy of the Mountain. But that’s not in my section, it’s taken care of by Lead Gardener Septimus.
”The first guy I spoke to? Fine…. But you know how to use water hemlock, don’t you?”
The man did not answer immediately. ”You know what….wait here.”

Raiden called back the man he interviewed first. Oh my Goddess, is he smelling worse than before?
”Septimus, you are in charge of the water hemlock on the castle grounds? Take me to your stock now.”
The two of them walked to the gardens. Hearing from the breaths of the older man it was at a far faster pace than he was used to. When they reached the place, the man was so exhausted he merely pointed at the herb they were looking for.

The young hunter kneeled down and inspected the ground around the herb. He could not see any disruption to the ground, nor could he see and of the leaves were cut. So they did not take the plant root and all and they did not cut off the leaves. He stood back up and asked the older man. ”Septimus, is any of your hemlock missing, or is the full stock here?”
It was now the man who sat down on his knees inspecting the area in much the same way Raiden had.
”Nothing is missing, m’Lord, not a single seedling.”
”Thanks, then I know enough.”

He walked back at again a fast pace, Septimus not following as closely as before. He finished his interrogations with the last 2 men, and 1 woman. They all seemed to have a dislike for Jeremiah, but they all seemed loyal to the Queen.
”Guards! Take Jeremiah to the Dungeon for further questioning. The others, you are allowed to go. The Great Ivelda thanks you for your hard and dedicated labor.”
Raiden stifled a laugh. Jeremiah might know more, but there was little indication for it. However, if something could make the smell of the Dungeons worse, it was possibly this guy, and that was reason enough for the hunter.

He walked to the Queen and bend the knee before speaking. ”My immortal Queen, there might be one suspicious gardener. He has been sent to the Dungeon for further follow up. I was able to confirm that the water hemlock used, was not from the castle gardens. I don’t know where they got it, but it wasn’t here.”

-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-

-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-