A Damsel in Distress

Darwen looked up as Ambros, her trustworthy guard, entered the small room. The elf who introduced himself as Vrael and the half-breed Thoravil stood a bit further left and discussed what else to ask her, after she had told them everything she knew about the events on the small island. She knew she could not help much, since she herself did not understand what happened.
Ambros looked clearly uncomfortable without his well-worn breastplate and was constantly adjusting the fit of the worn down leather armour. Darwen just realised, it had two holes in the middle of the chest with wet red spots surrounding them and had to look away. "My lady, can we help with anything?" "Not now my dear Ambros. What is your guess the strangers will do with us? Will they bring me to my father?" "I don't know, my lady. It seems they are considering bringing you back to the city. But after all that happened there, I don't think this would be for your best!" "Why, what exactly happened in the city? What do you know?"

"Well, we heard from Faron's mercenaries that the city mob has fully taken the castle and have imprisoned or killed all your men who resisted. Faron's men and ours alike. Batholomäus has officially declared Drynfort a free trading city. It seems that they had just waited until our force was divided and, I suspect, had some help from inside, since the eastern gate was opened with very little fighting or warning. Either one of our men let them in or slept on his station and let the bastards surprise him." "Well, once my father is back, this will hopefully be resolved and we can return." "I guess not without bloodshed, my lady. According to Faron's scouts, who had the city under surveillance, the revolutionaries are fortifying the city walls and prepare for a siege. Other accounts report that your father is already gathering support from the surrounding baronies and is amassing a striking force to take the city back by force if necessary." "Couldn't he use the secret door that we have used to leave the castle? I didn't even know it exited until you guided me through to the river!" "Only few do. How Faron's men knew about it, I don't know. But Bartholomäus knows that we left unseen and will without doubt look for the secret passage. Sooner or later they might find it. But I'm sure your father and Molok are certain about its strategic value and will include this in their striking plans." "Oh Ambros, I don't know. This all sounds so desolate. Will we ever be able to return? Are the others still alive? Juliana? Elisa?" "I don't know, my lady. Your maids were hiding when we left and I'm sure they posed no threat to the attackers to be killed." With a quick movement of his head towards the strangers, he tried to hide his face that might give away what he thought. Good looking young women on a battleground? Not killed maybe, but not better off either. "Let me talk to the strangers again. Maybe I can convince them to bring us to your father instead or let us four guards guide you back. But I would rather much prefer a larger detail." 

As Ambros approached Vrael, Thoravil started to address him: "We have heard what you came for. Why should we not bring them back to the city and give them to Bartholomäus for protection? It sounds the city is a safer place for her than a battlefield in front of its gates!" "True, but you don't know Bartholomäus. His greed and ambition pose a threat to Lady Darwen. He might use her to threaten her father in case of attack, might force her into marriage, since he always wanted to raise to nobility, or might trade her otherwise to another party. He is not to be trusted. Especially not now since he has reached his goal of becoming ruler, a goal we long suspected he aspires for." "How much would she be worth to ..." "Thoravil!" Vrael stopped his companion "Ambros, what do you think her father might do if we deliver her safely to him?" "He will surely reward you plenty. The Baron was always a generous man to his allies! He might even offer you work since you have shown your worth when fighting us and the merc's. I can vouch for you and your skills. The baron is always in need of good fighters, especially magic users and healers will come in handy in the upcoming siege!" Thoravil, still shooting deadly looks at Vrael, found his mental footing again: "So that means he will pay more than Bartholomäus or Faron?" Ambros gave Thoravil a measured look which did not hide his disgust. "He will definitely hunt you down with more tenacity should you give his daughter into his enemy's hands! And Faron it seems does not further need mylady, since he left her here while riding for another stronghold, no doubt to gather his mercenaries or cut losses and bugger off. Master Vrael, think about the situation and talk to your companions. What are you going to do?"