“I suspect that you’re correct,” Ember nods approvingly, “but keep in mind that we don’t have proof of any of this. I don’t want you going in there and flinging around accusations.”
“I’m smarter than that,” Emlyn frowns, “but I will be looking for proof of what I suspect to be the case. If I find it, I’ll bring it to you first.”
Ember nods, “That’ll do. I’d rather have you back here and safely away from Monkford if I have to go to Highglade with proof of malfeasance. If he thought of trying to kill a dragon, I doubt he’d hesitate to try the same with you.”
“That’s a valid point,” Emlyn agrees, “The weapons plans that I’ll sketch out for you are something you should consider replicating if we face dragons or their lesser kin very often. They’re quite effective and allow you to deal with them from far enough away so that their breath isn’t a worry. Drakes and dragonettes are quite common where I’m from. We’d get the occasional real dragon, but they generally weren’t an issue. They are usually polite enough to ask if there was a herd beast they could have if they were that hungry and couldn’t find anything else. Smart people would find an old milk cow or ox well past its prime and consider themselves the fortunate ones, having had the good end of the bargain. It gave them a chance to talk with the dragon and tell them if there were any drakes or dragonettes around. Real dragons liked to hunt drakes and dragonettes even more than we did because, as they put it, their less intelligent brethren were a constant source of problems.”
“So, you’ve had dealings with dragons before?” Ember asks.
“Of course,” Emlyn replies, “Our family home was up in the mountains, but we were close to Penfro, so we didn’t see anything but drakes with any regularity because dragons tend to avoid cities. That said, if you took a day’s ride or two into the mountains, you’d find drakes, dragonettes, and real dragons. If you were unlucky, a drake or a dragonette would decide that you and your horse looked tasty. Once that happened, you’d have to reach a keep equipped with bigger versions of the weapons I’ll sketch out for you, or hope to escape it somehow. They’re dangerous, but not smart. Real dragons are smart and dangerous. That’s part of what makes this whole thing so odd.”
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Ember prompts.
“I’ll try,” Emlyn continues with a nod, “Dragons are smart enough to know that troubling humans usually ends up badly for them, so why would he do this in the first place? Is the village or their local baron doing something to the girls that he’s protecting them from? Even if that’s the case, why would he bother? That doesn’t sound like anything a dragon would do. Human problems are for humans to sort out. Dragons generally consider humans to be beneath their notice. Our lives are too short to be very interesting to them. By the time they’re getting to know us, we die of old age, or so they’ve told me.”
Frowning, Emlyn sips her wine, “I don’t think he’s eating them. An ox, a bison, or even a big deer is more of a meal. The village has enough herd beasts, so if it’s food, he could ask for one of those, but if he’s not eating them, why keep asking for more girls? What’s the purpose behind gathering virgins? Is he an agent for someone or something else? There are tales about the supposed magical properties of virgins, so there may be some mage or necromancer behind this. I’ve seen dragons do some odd things for mages who hold their young hostage. It might even be a mage using spells to seem like a dragon. It’s also possible that he’s not even a dragon, but some shapeshifter who’s taking a dragon shape. Shapeshifters tend to live in big family groups. Perhaps his clan needs more females, and this is how they’re recruiting mates. I have numerous questions, but no answers to any of them. There’s more going on here than what we’ve been told. It will require a thorough investigation. If you have any experienced investigators, can you send a couple of them with us?”
“I think that’s smart,” Ember agrees, “I can add a couple more to your party.”
“They’ll need to be someone that people in that village will talk to, so maybe not from the temple unless we have someone local,” Emlyn says thoughtfully, “Small communities often won’t talk to outsiders. I’m guessing that Highglade knows something, and that’s why he’s refusing to intervene. I can talk to Dranor and his brothers to see if they’ve got some sense of what’s going on. Highglade or Whitehall might be more willing to talk to Dranor or one of his brothers than any of us, so I’ll ask if they can make some discreet inquiries about what Highglade or Whitehall knows or might suspect. I want to read the letter for myself, before we leave, so that I can think about it while we’re on our winter break.”
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“Is there anything else you need?” Ember asks.
“Definitely,” Emlyn nods, “Once we’re back from Mid-Winter break, I need to test all my abilities. I need to know what’s working again and what isn’t, or if I’ve acquired any new abilities. My flash of truth works, and so does my ability to heal. If that’s working, other abilities may be working as well.
“What makes you think you can already heal?” Ember asks, “That’s generally not something that a novice paladin who’s just taken their vows can do. Are you sure you can heal so soon after your induction?” Ember says with a frown.
“That’s one ability I’ve already tested on myself,” Emlyn grins, “It’s working.”
“Then you have a most remarkable affinity for the Goddess’s magic,” Gethin nods, “This might also explain at least a portion of her great interest in you. I know that she mentioned that you had an affinity for it, even before you took your oath. She said that she couldn’t have healed you enough to bring you to the temple otherwise. Once she patched you up enough that she was sure you’d survive being moved, she put you in a stasis spell and brought you here.”
“I’ve already heard about that from Garmer. It seems he was on gate duty when she arrived with me,” Emlyn sighs, “He said that she had everyone scrambling.”
“Enough of that,” Gethin says gently, “That’s all in the past. What can we do to help you with this current task?”
“Delay as long as you can,” Emlyn shrugs, “I’m still healing. The longer this can wait, the more healed I’ll be. Besides, we have weapons to make and an investigation to conduct. Use whatever excuses you see fit, and if you need me to play up my recovery, just let me know. I’ll try to arrange things to have a chat with Dranor or Jessop before we leave, so I can ask them to do a bit of poking around with Highglade and Whitehall. That’ll need to be handled delicately, so the more time we can give them, the more likely they are to uncover something useful.”
“If they find anything, we’ll send word, and the same goes for you. If you find anything at all, send word back. I’ll be sure that there’s at least one cleric in your party who can cast a sending. It’s a bit of a remote area, so if you even suspect that you might need help, send a message as soon as you do. We’d rather send help that ends up having a hard ride for weapons practice than have something happen to any of you. Don’t let Benger boss you around on that account,” Ember cautions her, “You have a Temple to call on again. Make use of it. That’s an order.”
“Oes, tad,” Emlyn grins back at him, “In that case, can you send a couple of mages with us as well? I want to be sure that this dragon is a dragon, and if he really is a dragon, he’s not enthralled or ensorcelled somehow. Regarding that weapon’s practice, I’d like to obtain permission to start drilling my cohort. Since we’ll be training, we’ll need extra food.”
Gethin smirks for a moment as Ember agrees readily. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a novice paladin who’s landed a single blow on Master Yanthus,” Ember nods, “so as long as you follow the healer’s orders, I think it’s wise to allow you to teach your skills.”
“I know that most, if not all, of what should be my job has been dumped on you,” Emlyn nods, “I’d like to start taking some of that over from you.”
“What do you have in mind?” Gethin asks.
“You, out of anyone here,” Emlyn explains, “should know that Cymry ideas about weapons, armor, and defensive fortifications are vastly superior to what I’ve seen here. For us, that starts with proper source materials for the task at hand. If that alloy is the best material for armor that you’ve been able to get, it might be time for this Temple to start smelting, tanning, and setting up some additional operations so that we’re properly equipped. If the temple remains here, we’ll need more space to house the additional operations. We’ll need access to the river so we can harness its power.”
Gethin looks at her curiously, “That sounds like a massive engineering project. Are you thinking of building something like Blanevir with the smelters and the water hammers?” Gethin asks,
“Only if Blanevir would be equally capable of producing every single component we need to field a paladin and do so at a comparable quality to Blanevir steel.”
Gethin stares at her, appalled, “That means making linen and cotton for the underpadding, leather for straps and pouches, wool for cloaks…”
Gethin trails off so Emlyn starts adding to the list, “Silver for hunting infernals, gold for hunting elementals, bronze for siege weapons, wood and horn for bows and shields, feathers for fletching, alchemists and herbalists for potions, farms for crops, mines for ore, quarries for various stones, yes. I think you have the idea.”
“We couldn’t undertake anything of that scale without the sanction of the Goddess,” Ember frowns, “I’m not even certain that we should undertake something like that. It seems like it might bankrupt the Temple.”
“If we’re terrible at business,” Emlyn shrugs, “I suppose it could, but if the absolute crap that you’ve been using to make armor is any indication of the local quality, I rather suspect that we can sell any excess to the local Duke for his liegemen, and he’ll happily pay a profitable price for it.”
“Why do you assume that there’s a ready market for such a thing?” Gethin asks.
Emlyn gives him a look, “How much does it cost you to recruit a new paladin, feed them, house them, train them, and then equip them so that you can field them?”
“It’s fairly expensive,” Ember says, “just in terms of food and housing.”
“And you want to squander that investment by sending them into the field with inferior equipment?” Emlyn replies, “And if you think it’s a problem for you, then it’s an even bigger problem for the duke, since he fields a standing army that’s many times the size of our Order. Every lord around here will be lining up to buy whatever excess we can produce and willing to fork over good coin for it once they learn where it comes from.”
What do you think of Emlyn's big plan? Is it possible to succeed or doomed to fail? Let me know in the comments.