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"Perhaps he did not ask me to be silent, but watching his antics in this very room during Braidenvayl and Serena's trial makes everything he says seem more overbearing than it might to others. However, your argument stands true, and it is at this point where I take my leave of this meeting. A good talk, though I do wish to speak with you, Dallid, more about the One Magic. I have not studied sorcery since my youth, and it seems it has gone through some changes since those days.

To you, Lord Marshal and Ashearth, I hope that anything I have said here has made some impact.

Franchesco, I wish to speak to you privately soon. There is much I have heard, but little I have understood. I thought you might be able to clear a few things up.

To all, fare you well. I have tarried too long. I must take care of some problems out of town. I'll be leaving in two days time. If any of you wish to speak to me, I am at a little shelter outside the city, to the west. Good day."

"If you have anything to say you might as well say it here friend. Should anyone ask of what we spoke of I would be obligated to tell them anyway as it is my code. Since you have brought it up in front of them you might as well. Many of the folk here can offer you much guidance."

"Good sir, it was not a matter of secrecy. I just prefer to have a choice who's information I receive. But if you insist, I shall ask here.

I heard there were a few threats to this land. Something about a beastman tribe, The Heart of the Ga'Vin, Regis Mortem, and the one known as The Master. I would know more about the enemy, because an educated warrior is a prepared one. I have studied some of the history of this place, but I don't recall anything about these subjects."

"It is good that you decided to ask here. I'm certain that Paer'an and Dallid here can provide you with much more on those subjects than I can. But I will tell you now that the information they will provide will be limited and rightfully so. Trust has to be earned in these lands because in the past when it was given freely our enemies took advantage. But I'm sure they will be able to provide enough information to allow you to keep yourself safe and help out if desired."

“Ah, yes. The Heart of the Ga’Vin is an artifact that was stolen from a Ga’Vin tribe. This tribe now searches relentlessly for it, and will mercilessly attack anyone they believe might have it. Fortunately their suspicions do not currently fall on Haven.”

“Regis Mortem may no longer exist, though I wouldn’t be surprised if he did in some form. He was the embodiment of Necromancy and its source in this world. He had been defeated and imprisoned for many ages before the Cataclysm. The Cataclysm, itself, was the result of an effort to free and restore him. I understand the effort to have failed, and Regis to have been destroyed, but… who can say for certain?”

“The Master had long been one of Regis’s top lieutenants and agents in his efforts to consume Phanterra. Long had the Master sought to free his lord, but ever did Phanterra’s defenders thwart him. Having survived the failure of the Cataclysm, still he toils and manipulates, and long has he held interest in Haven. What his current goals are, we know not, but he has repeatedly forged trouble in these lands.”

"I completely understand. I would ask no information that could compromise the security of this place. I just need to know what we face, why we face them, and what works best against them. If we do not have tactics set up for a specific enemy, I can start writing strategies. I intend to write up a log of the local monsters and beasts, as well."

"I can say for certain."

Morgan, appearing slightly worse for wear, shuffles his snow-covered boots towards the gates of the castle. His gait is unsteady as he weaves and wobbles through the snow, and his eyes appear out of focus slightly. His left hand is shoved in his bag up to the elbow, apparently to keep the chill away from it, and his right rests on top of the bag. He sniffles and continues.

"Regis Mortem no longer exists as a sentient creature. The Cataclysm was caused by a group of heroes in order to weaken the enemy in order to defeat it. As for his power, it is hypothesized to be contained within the armor and weapons of Kalot, the warrior who ultimately defeated him. This course of action, Cataclysm and all, was perpetrated by the Master as a way to become the most powerful negative being in existence. Without the Master, Strider would have never found the information that led to the Cataclysm and the final battle with Regis Mortem itself."

Morgan pauses to breath warm air into his clenched right hand. He then rubs his palm against his vest and continues.

"It's my belief that the Master is after the armor and weapons of Kalot, in order to add the power of Regis Mortem to his own. I believe there is something in Haven that the Master wants, and has wanted since before the Cataclysm, and I believe he needs to combine his power with Regis Mortem to obtain it."

Those nearby notice a change in Morgan's demeanor. His steps are steadier and his eyes are focused. Curiously, even his speech has changed, and it feels almost as though those hearing the Guthrie speak are compelled to listen and wait for their orders. Suddenly Morgan coughs, and the sickly-looking Morgan returns, shambling towards the keep.

"If I hear or remember anything else, I'll be sure to let you know. Right now, I just want something warm."

He sniffles his way into the castle, listing towards the feast hall.

His journal has once again appeared in his hands, but instead of writing the Lord Marshall was flipping through the pages searching for something. The flipping of the pages slows as he concentrates more on the conversation swirling around him and stops altogether at the elf's accusations. He slowly closes his journal and takes great care in placing it back into his pouch, all while adjusting his scalemail and cloak. He doesn't look at the strangers, but focuses his attention more on Dallid and Franchesco.

"It's always easier to enjoy the fruits of freedom when others have bled and died for it. It still amazes me how strangers are so quick to hide behind what is rightfully owed to them, when they have yet to show they deserve those rights. But such is the burden we carry, those who uphold the law and bleed to defend it, aye Dallid, Franchesco?"

At the mention of the Lord Marshall's 'antics' during the most recent trial, he slowly turns to face the elf. His hood is down, but the wrap is still over his eyes. He doesn't look up at him, as he can be clearly seen in the Painted One's mind.

"Choose your next words carefully elf, as this was a friendly debate but a moment ago. Please, explain how my 'antics' now make everything I might have to say overbearing. You seem to be quick to express what rights you have in this land, stranger, and quicker still in attempting to glean any and all information we have on who are enemies are."

His voice is low, barely over a whisper. A keen eye might notice the Lord Marshall's muscles bunching underneath his armor, but as soon as they tense, they immediately relax. His stance has remained casual and his hands have never strayed close to any of his blades. At this point, violence would only compound the issues being discussed, not resolve them.

"Trust is a precious commodity in these lands elf. So I challenge you with this: What have you done to earn anyone's trust? What guarantee can you give that as soon as we tell you everything we know on perhaps evil incarnate, you won't run to curry favor by selling it to him? Be at ease stranger, I'm not accusing you of anything but remember that your kind ruled this land a short..."

His sentence is cut short as the Valkin'kin Morgan, stumbles into the courtyard. As he watches him with his minds' eye he notices the shift in his demeanor from sickly, to healthy, and back to sickly. Waiting to make sure Morgan doesn't need any assistance, he watches the Guthrie stumble into the Castle and turns back to the gathered crowd.

"The trial mainly consisted of you speaking over the defendants, giving them little chance to defend themselves. That case could have gone differently had you shown them enough respect to let them speak in their own defense. Or for that matter, let someone else speak on their behalf.

As for the information, you seem not to know whom you speak to. Let me inform you, I am no simple elf stranger. My name is Gil-Galad. In younger days I fought in Silvandar's army. I watched the downfall of my people, and chose a self-imposed exile along with a few of my comrades, instead of fighting for such an evil force. In this very hall, I you and I would have stood face-to-face under much worse terms. In many ways I owe you and the others of this nation my debt, for you changed the fate of not only Silvandar, but the world as a whole. If I had any animosity towards this place, I would have been here the day Silvandar took this keep from the hands of the free people of Haven. I aim only to be of use and service to a place that has sheltered me and offered me a new life. But you are correct, you have no reason to trust me yet. And I do not expect to gain such trust any time soon. But I do ask that you grant me enough information to be of some use in coming days."

-He pulls out a leatherbound journal and a pen, and clasps them in one hand.-

"I have turned away from the warrior's path does not mean I do not understand the art of war, and the pain that buys every inch of ground gained or lost. For I lost my family at the hands of my own people, because I refused to slaughter innocent people."

after seeing the beast walk up, Ashearth looks at it intently for a few moments. stretches his hand and a wave of pressure emits from it towards the creature (dominate monster)

*Gil-Galad looks at the young beast girl with a mixture of surprise, compassion, and mild annoyance.*

"Cariel... What are you doing all the way here? I asked you to stay home until I got back from my trip, and THEN I would take you to the castle. Sigh.

Everyone, this is Cariel."

*after Asthearth casts his spell, Gil-Galad looks to him*

"I have seen you cast spells before, and know it when I see it. What did you just do to my charge?"

As Ashearths spell goes off the hairs on the back of his neck rise and uncomfortable feeling washes over him. Recoginzing the spell he pulls his blade from it's sheath and points it at the mage.

"How dare you! Once again you attempt to use your foul magic on another with no consent or care! I will not stand by idle while the innocent are attacked!"

Franchesco turns his head to Paer'an

"Lord Marshall this man has attempted to use magic on this creature against it's will and with no provacation. I ask that he be arrested and charged for his trespass."

"now now lets all calm down a moment, the beast is not just a wild creature, we are all safe. it was only my intent to insure the safety of the people here at this castle. the spell i performed is completely harmless to all intelligent people as such she was in no real danger. if however the creature been a beast in the truest meaning of the word, a crisis would have been averted and you all would have been thanking me for my quick thinking. "