P. Power - Ambassador

The man may be an over reactive murdering jerk at times, but he got the point and made his own statement clearly and concisely. The glow matching his robes perfectly. Rolph noticed and indicated it with his head and a tiny half smile at Tor who just nodded somberly. At least someone appreciated his work.

Then Smythe questioned the Count and everyone else in turn by rank, with the idea being that someone of high rank was more likely to be responsible for a Major plot and assassination attempt than the lowest person in the line. Since he'd already gone, that part had been taken care of at least. Oddly enough everyone was cleared fairly easily. Some of the men did lie, but it was about stupid stuff, like the fellow that hadn't wanted to admit he was in the restroom doing his business there when the attack started and hid in fear instead of fighting or even running. He looked ashamed but Tor wondered how well he'd have done if the whole thing had started when he was that vulnerable? Probably no better. Freezing seemed reasonable given those conditions, didn't it?

A few others tried to make themselves seem braver than they were, not mentioning how frightened they'd been while it had happened, of course, and that didn't work with the field they wore. Trice and Sara both tried to hedge, but oddly that was only about what Tor looked like after the fight, which was… bad. So gruesome they didn't want to say the words. Smythe got it out of them, nodding when they explained. He'd seen it too, but hadn't gone into the details when it had been his turn. To him that wasn't overly important. Oddly it was more that he simply expected Tor to just do something like he had, and get back up without pause, nearly dead or not. To the girls it was much worse for some reason, so they had to say the words, because otherwise it would look like they lied.

Ursala, and for some reason Maria, kept gasping when they heard everything, like Tor figuring that the assassins would just kill him, and that his fighting had only been meant to buy people time to escape. That he'd lived at all had been dumb luck and trickery on his part, as well as the fact that Trice, Sara, Ward and Smythe had stayed, prepared to die trying to slow the Larvals after they killed Tor so the others would have a chance. That's what saved him, because Trice had run up and started healing him almost instantly after the last Larval went down.

“I wanted to help before…” She said, her right arm hugging her middle. “We all did… but it was a duel. Tor had called them out, and they agreed to terms, so we couldn't intercede without shaming him.” Her voice shook a bit when she said it.

Almost maniacally he had to laugh at that, there was just too much not to.

“Oh!” He gasped, seeing her face fall a bit, looking baffled. “In the future, if it happens again, shame away! I personally don’t feel any real need to play fairly with assassins.” Everyone looked at him, worried at first, then Richard started to chuckle.

“Noted.” Was all he said though.

When everyone was cleared Tor handed the amulet to the King, already turned on and asked if he'd ordered the events of the day, and if so, in what detail. Everyone else looked horribly uneasy, except Richard who simply nodded and started to speak loudly enough for everyone to hear easily. What he said didn't sound anything like what happened. Not at all.

“I ordered you all detained for questioning and holding for those that needed it. The assassins. The houses were to be set up for your collective comfort, since they have restroom facilities and would be a place to lie down if anyone needed to, in a decent level of comfort, out of the heat and dust. We'd intended to have all this done earlier, but people kept arriving and demanding to be updated.”

The glow didn't so much as flicker.

No one else's did either, and everyone got a turn, since the King had already gone, they couldn't properly refuse, could they? No one balked even. Well, so… as bitter as Tor had felt about the whole thing, at least there was that. Even Ward looked satisfied, or at least didn't have blood in his eyes any more. Trice still looked upset, but she didn't cry, which made Tor love her just a little more at that moment. Her crying was a torment. On top of everything he couldn't have taken that right now.

“Great, someone want to let the guards out, since they obviously haven't figured it out yet for themselves?” Looking at the Prince, Tor shrugged. “It's just a missing sigil…”

The Prince tilted his head, hair still dark, or at least looking dark in the dim light, after a bit he licked his lips.

“And… a sigil… is just a place for people to focus their attention, and mark which device is which? Something not really needed at all, it's the intent that does the work?”

Tor nodded, then turned it into a half bow.

So he really had been listening for all those years at school? It made him feel a little better. The guy was an accounting student after all, and Tor had always wondered if he just nodded his head and murmured polite things when Tor had talked about building. Apparently not. Rolph went to the nearest magic house and slapped the wall lightly, turning the whole thing off. The hot and tired men inside sank to the ground slowly, most of them ending up lying naked in the dirt. He'd left them in their skivvies, but they apparently decided that even that bit of material was too warm. Unlike how they'd treated their prisoners, Tor asked for water to be brought them first thing. Water that wasn’t even tainted. After they were all released, it would be their turn to be questioned.

Most of them didn't know any more than Tor suspected they would about their orders. Go and do, mainly, which was reasonable enough. They followed the lead of the Captain and copied what everyone else was doing. Some of the men knew it was a bit harsh, but figured that the prisoners must have been in on the attack, since Ward was with them and all, and really, no one liked him that well right now, after having declared war on them. None of them had recognized Tor for who he was at all it seemed, and had been picking on him because he was the smallest male in the group and clearly wasn't a noble. They were mainly bored they said. Watching people like that all day had been hot and not all that interesting, so they'd made a game of it.

Oh. Well that made it all right then.

So if he'd been the thirteen year old boy he looked like to them instead of an adult, that would have made it all right for them to break his nose and hit him? Be deprived of water in the hot sun when he was already badly dehydrated and had nearly died the day before? The women and Smythe had been given something to drink, but even the Count had been denied.

That, it turned out, had been ordered. Very clearly, and by name. Ward wasn’t to receive any kindness at all and harsh treatment was recommended.

With that bit of information the whole command structure of the city guard was turned out, even before true dawn broke. The Commander was cleared, having basically just repeated the King’s words verbatim, adding only suggestions for food, cool drinks and even light entertainment for the high ranking guests. Cards and dice, even music. He called them guests and apparently meant it, enough so that it didn't show up as a lie. The man was old. Smythe old, not just a little gray at the edges. He had steel in his spine and looked truly outraged at what had transpired. Without hesitation he offered to resign on the spot. The King looked at the others and then finally at Tor.

“Well Master Tor, you seem to have gotten the worst of it. I'll leave it to you.” He looked blank again.

Tor glared at the King and snorted more than a little derisively.

“Right. Put his fate in the hands of the enraged man while he's still in a snit?” Tor sighed and shook his head. “Let's find out what happened first. If it turns out he's responsible for it, then we can give him the boot later. No need ruining his job over what he's said so far.” Looking at the man he shrugged.