Jezin, Jorun, and Alia moved at a quick pace out of the palace and down towards the docks. The servants seemed to be having difficulties keeping up with the knight's quick feet. "Jezin, is it really necessary for us to run like this? Sophia's royalty, surely they'll let us pass." Jorun huffed out the words, struggling to keep his breath while keeping up with the knight. He was not accustomed to such strenuous activity. The bodyguard replied sharply. "Yes, I heard the ports will close soon, and I doubt they'd let even royalty through after that." He hurried along, his spear clutched tightly by his side. The docks were in sight. He glanced back towards Alia and Jorun. The short, fat, bearded man seemed to be having difficulties running. Alia's tall thin frame seemed unfazed by the activity.

As they reached the docks, Jezin approached the nearest dock worker. "I need to see the dockmaster, now." The young man pointed the trio in the right direction, and they hurried along the edge of the dock. The sunlight shown brightly against the ocean, an uncomfortably serene backdrop for such a nervous and hasty endeavor. Jezin heard a bright voice behind him. "At least we'll be going home, I don't like this place very much. It'll be good to see the sand again." Jezin looked back towards Alia, still walking along the docks. "Yes, I've missed my boys." Jorun chuckled, speaking of his sons, both of which worked in Veranthium's stables. Jezin sighed. "We can worry about that later, for now we have to find the dockmaster." He finally found the office the worker had pointed him towards and opened the door hastily.

Sophia smiled, extending her hand across the table. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Tatchet, my name is Sophia Octavia. Oh, so you're a courier?" She frowned when Feril threw in the 'for now'. It seemed people were already feeling the strain of Wallace's machinations. She smiled when the woman asked their identities. She looked off for a moment. "I'm the princess of Lyok." Her light, feathery voice seemed almost inappropriate for speaking of her title. The princess glanced over to Gareth, seeing a knight standing by him. The man said something quickly that Sophia couldn't make out. She looked at the half-elf quizzically for a moment.

"Gareth Harker, pleasure to-" The knight, speak of the devil, interrupted Harker in the midst of his introduction. He froze, looking up to hear the knight and get a good look of the knight's face as he delivered his message to the new squire. Harker nodded. "Ah, um, yes sir." He only had time to utter those words as the knight departed them, only there to give a brief notice and attend to other business. "I am terribly sorry... I have summons elsewhere..." Gareth immediately stood, bow and quiver on his back and body looking poised to leave. He knew he could go visit Walden whenever it fit his schedule, but he was no busy person and preferred to visit others in a timely manner. That aside, he'd rather not screw up another first meeting either. With a curt bow for both ladies, more for the princess, he spoke. "I shall see you later... I hope." That is, if fate would allow. On his heel the half-elf turned, and off in the direction of the west end he turned. The hall was quite long and vacated, Gareth noted, save for two guards placed across each other near its end by a door left slightly ajar, which Harker presumed to be the entrance into the mentioned study. Quietly he pushed the hard wood open, and stepped into the presence of his employer with a gentle rapping on the wall to make Gareth's arrival known. "You, ah, summoned me, sir?" His voice shook, seeming anxious at being called for in a dire time. Of course, it wouldn't be hard to read his dismay from the reddened whites of his eyes and his long face.

As the door to the dockmaster's office was opened, it revealed a quaint scene unfolding rapidly in the man's office. The stout, sturdy man bearing a white beard and all the scars and habits of a life spent mostly at sea was being held by the beard. His apparent captor was a refined looking woman, sporting a bob of golden hair and a plain looking blue dress that didn't quite seem up to par with the air of nobility about her, and her expensive looking white gloves currently being used to restrain the poor man. "You won't eat! You won't sleep! You won't have time to shit! Until my crates show up I will be right here-" Her yelling stopped instantaneously, and her hand flew away from the dockmaster back behind her, joining another clasped firmly around a closed white parasol. With a brilliant, wide smile and a tilt of the head, she stepped away to a window and waited for their guests to go about their business. The dockmaster, straightening his charcoal colored garments adorned with the badge of his position, looked, bewildered, over towards the door to address his new guests. "Joseph Leer, dockmaster," he said, extending a hand to Jezin. "What brings you straight to my office?"

---

He was surprised to see one of them leaving so suddenly, more so that he'd been called by a soldier. Whoever this Gareth fellow was, he was involved in something that a trailforged sense of trouble told her to keep her head politely out of. "Yeah, catch you around," she said as he departed, before the weight of what Sophia had said fully fell on her. "A- a princess?" Feril caught herself gaping at the stranger, and felt a little dull not expecting that sort of thing at a coronation. "The pleasure is all mine, I suppose," She quickly appended a "your grace," to her speech. She'd heard of Lyok, but only in passing. It was a large empire on some faraway continent. One day, the kind she might even travel to. "But yes, I came here just to deliver a parcel, actually."

Jezin was a bit surprised at the scene he saw when he entered the office. A blonde woman across the room seemed very concerned about some crates. Ordinarily Jezin might have been curious about the circumstances, but at the moment that didn't matter. He lowered the spear to the floor and shook the seaman's hand briskly. "Jezin Tremora, bodyguard of her Grace Princess Sophia Octavia of Lyok. I've come to seek transport out of Mullen as quickly as possible. I need a ship headed for Lyok, we can pay whatever you desire." The Lyoki spoke quickly and seriously, a tone befitting of such an important situation. The servants behind him glanced back and forth between the blonde woman and the seaman, looks of confusion on their faces.

The princess looked back, waving to Gareth as he left. "Goodbye, Gareth." He said he hoped to see her again, but she likely would be leaving the country soon, never to return. For a moment she felt sorrow at leaving her friend, but it was what had to be done. She looked back to Feril with a bright smile. "Why thank you," she said, acknowledging Feril's point of politeness. "Oh really? What sort of parcel?" The Lyoki smiled, taking a bite of the peach that she had neglected up until that point.

Joseph looked around his office at the various charts, less to actually consult them and more in dismay at what the man was asking of him. The woman, of course, sat there sneering from the sidelines in some king of smug victory. Finally, stroking his beard, he looked back to Jezin and broke the bad news. "No such thing, I'm afraid. Some redhead bloke from the council was down last night and told us to bar all ships leaving the harbor. Next thing I know the guard's in here telling me we're under martial law. Under law: No ships out, all ships in checked and warned of their detainment." He shook his head, knowing full well what a bodyguard trying to secure exit the way he was meant. The servants, he wasn't sure what to make of except some sort of status symbol. The bodyguard of a rich princess, too. As if things hadn't been getting bad enough around his office.

---

"No clue but the king didn't very much like it. We couriers don't often have the privilege of looking into what we're hauling around." She said, shrugging her shoulders with the kind of impudence only a messenger enjoying the perks of neutrality could muster. Talking about how the box had bled all over the inside of her bag didn't much appeal to her, and neither did leaking the embarrassing details of how she'd handed it off to some shady woman in armor who quite clearly had not delivered the latter properly. "All in all it's not a bad way to end a career, the food was great," she motioned broadly to the tables filling the great hall. "What about you, your grace? No offense but you're an offlander royal, there aren't too many of them staying on Estovet." There were very few reasons for foreign dignitaries to do anything, but her curiosity had rapidly shifted its way from the departed Gareth to the present Sophia.

Jezin's fist clenched at his side when the dockmaster denied his request. He considered trying to bargain with the man, bribing him, even inquiring about private agencies or smugglers that might be able to help, but any attempt would likely be useless. "Damn it... Damn it all." He nodded to Joseph. "Alright, thank you for your help." He turned on a heel and walked out, flanked by Alia and Jorun. The woman spoke up as they walked outside. "What will we do now? How long are we going to be stuck here?" Jorun interjected. "Probably a while, Alia. If they closed the port in the capitol I doubt this is something they'll be taking lightly." Jezin looked back at the pair. "We'll find some other way. Maybe a carriage could take us across the continent..." Alia spoke again, trying to maintain some hope in the bleak situation. No, Jezin thought, if martial law had been enacted they had no chance of escape. He cursed as they walked away from the dock, his spear still hanging at his side. Mullen had just become their prison.

Sophia's eyes widened as she remembered the last gift the king had received. She had forgotten all about it after the other events of the night. She had never saw it's contents, but he had looked quite shaken. "Oh." Sophia stated, glancing around the room, hoping for Jezin's return. She turned her attention back to Feril. "No, I don't suppose so, the food is wonderful." She took another bite of the peach. She took a breath to answer the woman's question. "This was meant to be a diplomatic visit. I was to deliver a gift from Lyok, and hopefully discuss trade with the king. Unfortunately... all this happened." She looked a bit downtrodden for a moment. "It seems as if everything that could go wrong has."

As Jezin and his entourage walked off the dock, the sound of several horses running could be heard well before they were seen. After a moment, the owners of the horses were visible. 4 members of the Order of the Thistle, led by a man with an eye wrap. The horses finally made it to Jezin, Alia, and Jorun, stopping roughly 15 feet from their group, "Jezin Tremora." Thomas started, as he unhorsed himself, along with the other three knights, "A snake that we now know to be native to Lyok killed Sir Redwyne Cole." He explained, his right hand on the hilt of Harmony, "I was going to ask you about the matter, and try to figure out how this snake could of made it here, but I was informed that you were desperately trying to get yourself, and Sophia, out of Mullen." Thomas looked from Jezin, to Alia, and Jorun, smirking, "As per procedure, I'm afraid we have to take you, and your servants, into custody as to launch an investigation." Thomas finished, now drawing Harmony, letting hang down to his side. He smirked, to himself. He had fought near docks before, the last time had resulted in the death of about 8 individuals, leaving him without a scratch. Thomas was waiting to see how Jezin reacted, secretly hoping the man chose to fight his arrest, as it would only work out for Thomas down the line, "No one has to get hurt here, Jezin. Just allow the investigation to carry out, and you'll be released once we come to a conclusion." Thomas added, the other knights flanking him drawing their own swords.

---

Sir Walden was busy placing a massive book back on a shelf, when Gareth entered the room, rapping on the wall to signal his arrival. The room wasn't very big, bookshelves lining the sides of the wall, with a desk in the back of the room, a even bigger leather chair behind it, "Ah, Mister Harker." Walden started, as he turned around to face Gareth, "Please, sit down." He pointed towards the massive leather chair, as no other chair populated the room. A pitcher of wine, now becoming somewhat customary to see Walden with one, along with four glasses sat on the table. Walden graciously poured two, passing one to Gareth, "I needed to talk to you about how important your service will become, shortly."

Acting more gentle, Walden clearly took on a more serious tone this time around, and Gareth could hear it in the tones of the normally-jovial man. Taking the glass in hand, he nodded in compliance and sat at the enormous chair, obviously larger than himself. Harker took one miniscule sip and understood then that Sir Walden did not call the half-elf to reprimand him, but rather to condition him for something larger. He set the glass on the surface before him, and he put his hands in his lap while he opened his ears to listen to the words Walden was uttering. "Mmm, yes, sir." Like always, he didn't have much to say; however, in this case, he didn't need to anyway. All there was for him to do was listen.

Jezin froze where he stood, immediately recognizing Thomas as the horses neared them. He watched as the knights approached. The bodyguard brought his spear up, placing the butt of the weapon on the ground as Thomas spoke. So Redwyne had been killed by a snake, one of the many venomous serpents in Lyok. The day just kept getting better and better. He looked around, noticing that he was outnumbered, and that any attempt to flee would probably end terribly. Still, he somehow imagined being taken into custody by Thomas, who seemed so thirsty for his blood only a few moments ago, probably wouldn't end well either. He spoke up. "It is my prerogative to get the princess out of the country before full on war sets in. Unfortunately, it seems the whole city is under martial law, so it doesn't seem that's happening soon." He kept his eyes on Thomas, but watched the other knights out of his peripheral vision. His face remained blank. "You know Thomas, somehow I have a hard time believing that I'd be released, safe and sound." Jezin was surprised to see a figure walk past him. Jorun walked towards Thomas, giving a deep bow. "Good Sir Knight, I can assure you this man had nothing to do with any murder. We brought no snakes with us, you see, it's a terrible climate for them." The older man chuckled a bit. "There's no need for this to get out of hand. Jezin is only doing his duty, something I'm sure you, as a knight, understand." Jorun spoke jovially, not understanding the seriousness of the situation.

Thomas nodded thoughtfully at what Jorun suggested, "Then, if it is so clear cut that Jezin is innocent, he would acknowledge I have my duty as a knight of the King to take him in for questioning." Thomas said, then turning his attention Jezin, "I'm hurt, Jezin. Wounded, even. I am going to take you in for simple questioning, and release you. As for Sophia, she will be protected like the honored guest she is." Thomas explained, taking a good look at Jezin, and the servants. "To the normal person, this is how the situation looks; A snake native to Lyok was delivered to Sir Redwyne Cole, by Gareth Harker, a friend of Sophia. Once the snake killed Sir Redwyne, and it was brought to your attention that Redwyne had perished, you made it a desperate attempt to get out of Keilaudrin. Despite your reasoning, Jezin, I have to bring you in to question you." Thomas finished, flipping Harmony in his hands as he talked. "I don't want their to be bloodshed, Jezin. Despite your accusations, I am a man of the King, not a man of senseless violence." Thomas finished, awaiting Jezin's answer, patiently.

---

"I know you had nothing to do with Sir Redwyne's untimely death, and I know you might feel at fault for your actions, but there was nothing you could of done." Walden started, taking a pause to sip from his own glass of wine, "Sir Redwyne was a good man. An honorable man, but it's obvious that our enemy is not an honorable foe. Swords and armor will not win this fight, nor will we know who our enemy is until the end of this mess." Walden went on further, his attention now switched to his bookcases, which he stared at absentmindedly. "The Order and the King need you, Gareth. You're new to the game, and new to the Palace. You're the only person in this Palace I am absolutely certain had nothing to do with any of this debacle." Walden now turned his attention back to Gareth, whom seem engulfed in the massive leather chair, "I need you to report everything you see, that could be relevant to all of this ." Walden sipped from his wine glass, as he kept his attention on the young man in front of him, "I need you to kill the boy inside you, Gareth. I need you to become more than just a squire. I need you to be a hero for the Order, and save the King, and all his men, before there is no one else left to save. You and I are the only ones, I believe, that can stop this madness."

Jezin frowned. The evidence against him looked convincing, even if it wasn't true. He took another step forward, gritting his teeth. As skilled as he was, he couldn't fight four knights, not if they were all as skilled as Thomas. "Fine then. If there's no other way, I suppose I'll have to surrender my freedom." He looked around. "I'll go quietly, but let the servants go. You have no reason to take them. They are here to take care of the princess, nothing more. Imprisoning them is pointless." He still held onto his spear, apparently refusing to disarm himself until Thomas answered his request. Jorun looked back towards Jezin, a grim look on his face. Alia stepped forward. "Yes, let us go back to the Princess. It's bad enough that she has no hope of going home, at least let us return to her. You can even keep a watch on us, we will be no trouble." Jorun looked at the woman, shaking his head at her pleas. He would not beg like some dog. The bearded man turned towards Thomas. "Let the girl go, I'll go with Jezin if need be."

"That's not how this works. Everyone here must come with me to become questioned. Sophia and Eva will remain untouched, and unharassed." Thomas explained, switching his gaze between all three of them, "This is not up for debate. All three of you will be escorted by my Brothers and I to separate containment cells, until we can question all of you. If you are as innocent your friend here suggests, all of you will be free to go. I will personally acquire funding out of the nation to a separate port you can take back home." Thomas added, his grip on Harmony tightening, "One last time, in the name of King Bard II, come compliantly with us, and there will be no needless bloodshed or violence."

Furrowing his brow as he kept an open ear, stone-faced Gareth twiddled his thumbs and drank of the savory wine. Now he was stoic and aware of simply how grave the situation was, stark against a sanguinary background. He felt reassured about the incident in the study, however it was clear that the court of King Bard II, Gareth and Sir Walden included, had to come back with a vengeance and bring the kingdom back on its feet. The battle they would fight, however, would be different from most fought; wit and intelligence comprised its core tasks. Sir Walden understood as well as Gareth did that Harker could have nothing to do with the events in the castle. There was simply no way someone with no political ties could do anything of that sort, no motivation. The order brought to him by Walden put him off, though. "I am not sure that... I can exactly be a hero." Gareth deeply questioned his potential, despite acceptance of his duties. "But, um, as you instruct, I will do." Another task set before him: collecting intelligence. Being new to the Order, such a task would normally be reserved for those in higher ranks, but security was more important, and Gareth's innocence and impartialness was vital to the task Walden wished for the half-elf to carry out.

Jezin sighed, raising his spear and dropping it to the ground. He pulled the shield from his back, dropping it as well, before finally removing the dagger from his belt, which fell with a loud clang on top of the shield. "So be it." He walked towards Thomas, his hands raised in a non-threatening fashion. It was the second time he'd been arrested by the Order of the Thistle in two days. But Redwyne was dead, and he had a feeling his 'interrogation' wouldn't go nearly as smoothly as the first had. Jorun nodded, holding his hands up in a similar fashion. "Lead the way then, Sir." Alia slowly walked forward, looking a bit surprised at the rejection of her request. "Fine then, take us in, but we did nothing wrong." Jorun sighed at the woman's attitude.

As he nodded, Sir Lucas and Sir Sven manacled Jorun and Alia. Thomas himself manacled Jezin, his one eye meeting Jezin's eyes as he did so, "Sir Bull, gather Jezin's weapons and take them to the armory for holding." Thomas commanded, which Sir Bull nodded to and set about gathering the weapons. "Sir Sven, lead the horses back, we'll head back to the Palace on foot." Thomas commanded. As Sven tied ropes from the other horses saddles, to his own horses saddles, Thomas look at Jezin, a smirk decorating his face, but said nothing. Thomas then took a step back, nodding to the only two remaining knights, to which they responded by placing Jorun and Alia on either side of Jezin. "Thank you for your cooperation." Thomas said, as he turned his back to Jezin, and began the walk back to the Palace, with the two knights staying at the back of their three prisoners.

---

Walden smiled at Gareth's guess he was not made of the material needed to be a hero, "If their is one piece of advice I can give you, Gareth, it's this." Walden started, taking a long drink from his wine before giving said advice, "A hero doesn't have to be strong, or brave. He doesn't have to be smart, or quick. He doesn't even have to be an adult. A hero requires one thing, and one thing only. Doing the right thing." Walden said, with his toothy smile now back on his face, "Out of everyone in this whole damn Palace, I think you're the only one that has the potential to be a hero, Gareth." Walden righted himself, and finished off his wine glass, letting out a small burp as he did so.

Payton had listened to the entire debacle, and now fully understood what exactly was happening here in the Palace. Once the trial had concluded, and all parties made their exits. Payton stood up from her seat, and made her way to her lodgings, as quickly as she could without looking suspicious to the still-patrolling knights. Once she made it to her room, she quickly entered, and shut the door behind her, locking it. Payton glanced around the room, before setting her eyes on a short wooden dresser she had. She bursted forth from the locked door, to the dresser, and opened the bottom drawer. Laying neatly upon heaps of folded and pressed clothes, laid a letter. A letter Payton had not yet read yet. She picked up the letter, feeling the crisp envelope, feeling for anything hidden inside. After a moment, she tore the letter opened, and examined it's contents.

Jezin met Thomas smirk with a cold glare, but said nothing. A fine situation they had landed themselves in, he thought. He wondered if Thomas' offer to get them a ship home was legitimate. He found himself doubting it, but if the man were telling the truth, then they'd have caught a break, for once. Then again, he'd have to make it out of his interrogation alive, and that in itself didn't seem terribly likely. He followed without speaking, his armor clinking as he walked along back towards the palace. He looked to Jorun and Alia. Jorun seemed to have a grim face, but Alia seemed on the verge of fuming. She had always been that way, at least as long as he could remember. She was extremely headstrong, but the bodyguard was glad she was holding her tongue, at least for the moment. He watched Thomas' back. 'Just what are you planning?' he thought.

Gareth bobbed his head in feigned agreement. "Yes, sir." Another sip of wine. Walden's choice of words were touching, and it made Harker's heart skip a beat out of an inclination to the inspiration that arose from the proverbial statement. His eyes seemed to hold a twinkle in them, as if sparking with something divine, as if he could dispose of his lack of confidence, yet still he consciously refused to believe although everything deep within told him to accept what Walden said. His smile returned to his face for the first time that day, and for a moment he froze in silence and finished his wine, him suppressing a burp with all the restraint could manage.

The letter was clearly dated far older than the envelope and package that had accompanied it. The folded sheet within was yellowed and frayed, but the hand it was written in suggested that the author was educated and spent quite a while writing official documents. Perfect, orderly lines crossed the page, most of them were simply a list of names indicating persons in attendance. A later hand had gone through and shakily scrawled through most of the names in mottled, thickly applied ink that stood out from the page's true print. Among those left untouched were one Sir Guy Arnulf, Bard Urien II, and his predecessor-brother Aripert Urien. The name Karl Leid featured prominently at the end of the list. Underneath, an officially worded notice and agreement that all parties named had certified the passing of King Arduin II. It was a common sort of document, the necessary paperwork for when a king died and his authority was to be passed to an heir. However, the sender apparently thought little of the message other than its utility as a list of names. Only a few moments after the parchment had been exposed, its surface began to crackle and the text below the list burned away in a flash. Left behind were large, letter shaped holes spelling out, with blackened borders, 'TAKE HOME YOUR DOG.'

---

"I wouldn't cut it out that low just yet," Feril said, trying to sound cheerful. She wasn't so callous as to say only two people had died and so settled on telling Sophia, "We're all still alive, so there's at least something to be grateful for." Her smile faltered a little, she wasn't convinced even by her own words. Things were going poorly and there was no question to it. No matter who you were, the events at the palace weren't leaving you well off. "With any luck, your guy will still find a way out of town. There's smugglers aplenty in a place like this, and I don't think your country is gonna care what laws you break getting back to them." With those words of wisdom, she shrugged and picked up a class from the table, drinking whatever it was, she didn't quite remember pouring it but it was still sweet enough.

The entourage made it back, quickly, to the Palace, taking the rear entrance of the grounds in order to get inside the Palace. Thomas did not wish to alert anyone that wasn't part of the actual government to his arrests, just quite yet. They would be put into cells for now, but Thomas knew he couldn't keep them there long, at least not Jezin. Something as prideful and as wild as Jezin would refuse long-term containment, "You will be issued to separate cells. As a lady, therefore warranting more respect, you will have the biggest of the three cells, along with an appropriate bed roll." Thomas said, pointing his finger back at Alia. Thomas doubted the kindness would be acknowledged, or even appreciated, but Thomas was going to act as he saw fit. Thomas eventually came to a large metal door, and opened it. On the other side was a long, small hallway, with cells placed 15 feet apart from each other. There appeared to only be cells on one side of the room, and there appeared to be 5 cells. Thomas walked up to the first one, and unlocking the large metal door for the cell, then opened it up to reveal a small room with a cloth placed over a small hay pile. Thomas looked over to Jezin, and waited for the man to enter the room.

---

"The time will come, Gareth, where important things will rest on your shoulders. I know you'll do the right thing." Walden said, with supreme confidence in his voice. He burped once more, and laughed. "Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer, Mister Harker! You have your own things to do, and own places to be! If you ever need anything you can just ask me, remember that." Walden added, goofy smile adorning his jolly face. A worried face then came on Walden's face, "I almost forgot, Mister Harker! I had a sword brought up from the armory for you." He said, reaching behind a nearby bookcase, pulling out a light purple scabbard, adorned down both sides with imprints of white thistles, to signify Gareth's position in the Order. The sword itself was just slightly shorter than the typical longsword. He handed the sword over to Gareth, "Now, it's not anything special. Magic wasn't used to forge this weapon, nor did someone work on it day and night for 4 weeks to create this sword. It is a simple sword, made directly from the Order of the Thistle's personal smithy. A good, reliable sword for a good, reliable user." Walden said with a smile. Walden had no intention of Gareth using the sword over his bow, as it took a long time to perfect the art of sword play, but he intended it to be more of a ceremonial weapon, and a impromptu self-defense weapon.