As Gyselle burst in, Tarian looked up, her eyes scrunched as though still focused on the paper. She blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to motion, distance, and non-flat characters. “You missed it breaking.” Tarian pointed at the letters. “The code, I mean. What you found… is certainly a message. But paperwork isn’t my thing, so it’s a little slow-going on my end. But this letter from Mister Dobby is addressed to the arcanist. And,” Tarian turned to Corti, “it may have something to do with what we saw at the old church in Duskrock.”

Tarian held up the note to show how far she had gotten.

“How are you doing with yours?” Tarian nodded toward Corti’s note.

Gyselle regards the paper Tarian presents curiously. “I have no idea what any of that means...” she says uncharacteristically sad. “I wasn’t sure what that weird chart was for... but he sure went to a lot of trouble to keep it out of plain view. So I thought it must be important.” She adds a bit more cheerily than she was before. Looking over to Corti, “Thanks for getting us in the tent. I don’t think we could have done it without you.” She says this last part at her normal level of cheer and then finds a place near either or both and watches them work. Fascinated by the whole process. After a few moments says to Othmar, “How come you never taught me stuff like this.” while pointing at the documents/cypher table. 

Othmar stands at the side, excited, but unable to provide much help. At Gyselle's question, he snorts :"It's not like I understand this stuff any better..."

After another fifteen minutes or so, Corti and Tarian both put their notes down, exhausted, but with two fully deciphered letters.

Dear Kazzhan,

The operation is under way. Soon, the only ones left standing will be the Guards. She won’t have a choice but to use them, and Breland will have to respond. How are the operations among the Cyreans proceeding? I made some changes to the formula, the product should be more potent and last longer.

I heard recently that the leader wanted to spare the delegation, thinking it better for them to be isolated in a foreign land as suspected enemies, than to have them dealt with by our forces. That way we can keep focussed on our three prongs. I am inclined to agree, but was wondering if you had any news on our men in the capital? Are they ready?

For the Republic,

Ishmael

Brother Ishmael,

Good to hear that the cause advances. On our part, we have started to weaken the foundation. The farmers gladly accepted the stuff, and even paid us good money for it… It won’t be long until the city has to react… As soon as some of their own get sick, I expect. Production is as easy as you promised, and thanks to your additions, the substance now keeps at least two months, making it possible for us to get members in via sea too.

We’re unhappy about the leader’s decision to spare the delegation, but if you’re successful on your end, we might not have to, since the conference will collapse before it ever started.

Good news from the capital too. The Shard stands ready, to strike when the time is right.

For the Republic,

Kazzhan

Reading through the letters over your shoulder, Othmar whistles: "This is worse than I thought. What do we do now?"

“So did we find what we needed? Is this enough information to prove that Ishmael is poisoning the soldiers?” Gyselle pipes up looking between the decoders and Othmar. “You don’t think the Marshall is condoning this do you Othmar?” Gyselle says hoping that isn’t the case. 

Corti finishes with a flourish and a smile, which fades off her face as she reads both her letter and Tarian's. "These seem vague... hopefully it's enough. They seem to point to a conspiracy at least." She glances up at Gyselle and nods, then shakes her head, "They do point to Ishmael poisoning soldiers. And I don't think the Marshall knows... look here," She points to "she won't have a choice but to use them," It sounds like they mean her. But who are the Guards? I thought the soldiers were the ones getting sick..." She looks between Othmar and Gyselle.

“I’d wager my last gold on ‘the Guards’ meaning the Crendilian Guard.” Tarian pointed at the bandages holding the poultice to her wounds. “One of their sergeants did this, while his mates cheered him on. They’re a pack of rabid dogs, if you ask me.” She chuffed and went back to look at the note.

“But I don’t think these alone are enough to prove Hadrari’s involved here. In this letter to Kazzhan, he talks about an ‘operation’ and ‘the only ones left standing,’ but it doesn’t say anything about him poisoning them. These parts about the poison—well, ‘product,’ I guess—don’t say anything about it being used in the camp. I’m sure Magistrate Corsyr will have use for this, but without proof that there’s Pale Tincture in her arcanist’s possession and the same being used on her men, I don’t know if Marshal Arceneaux will care.” Tarian drew a deep, slow breath. “Which means all we’ve done is ransack her pet arcanist’s tent and cause a scene with her soldiers.”

If we have to run, we’d best go soon. Of course, even running, there’s no guarantee we’d escape. It’s probably best if we at the very least send a message to Corsyr about the poisonings and this ‘Kazzhan.’

Tarian looked around the tent. For a moment, her gaze lingered on Njalgas before she continued looking around. “That device Arc found should probably be disabled before we tell Corsyr about this. Where is Arc? And Thia?”

Thia's mind was spinning with thoughts from her analysis. She could identify small positives as well as missteps, and was trying to do a risk assessment on the go with what information she had. We have a key and two letters, that they've hopefully solved... Though, it won't be long before the guards report our snooping... I was able to determine that the alchemical ingredients on his table were deliberately labeled incorrectly, but I did not take the time to retrieve a sample... Shit. She'd snap her fingers to herself at that realization. But, I retrieved Stewart instead... and confirmed evidence of Pale Tincture. The increased spotting paired with the remnants of bread that remained in his stomach could indicate a more potent dose as it did not digest in full... But how do I prove that, and would it be enough? I need to be able to test for it...

The medic found herself standing outside the tent now and she couldn't just pace here, she needed to move. I need milk or honey... Her eyes would scan in all directions as she'd clench her jaw. She'd look towards the medic tent. Thia would take in a deep inhale then step forward. She'd swallow, turning her attention to the solider's commissary and head for it.

The commissary is located near the center of the camp, and at night is staffed by only two privates busy peeling potatoes. They look up at you, curious to see someone without a uniform: "How can we help you?"

Thia would offer a bow of her head in a greeting to the two before her. "I'm in search of some milk and honey." She'd answer honestly allowing for a pause. Feeling their eyes look her up and down, the medic would push aside the bottom left side of her opened jacket to reveal her healers kit and medical tools that hung at the ready on her hip. "Lending Leech a hand in the medic tent." She'd explain the absence of a uniform as she'd mentally take note of theirs.

Her eyes would move to watch their hands work at peeling the potatoes before jutting out her chin to gesture to the task, "Stew this evening?". She'd offer a guess for some small talk.

Gyselle stands quietly in the tent trying to process what’s just happened. Unsure of what to do with the information, looks between Othmar and Tarian, “So what do we do now? Is there enough information to prove someone has been making the soldiers sick?” Gyselle toes the dirt after asking, keeping her eyes focused on making a small hole. Feeling almost ashamed at not knowing what to do next. She really wants to see the soldiers get better and anyone who has been hurting them get punished but besides that ... she doesn’t know. 

The two soldiers grunt: "Nah, this' is fer tomorrow... The sarge wasn't happy with us, tha's why we're here now. Anyway, we got some milk and honey here, feel free to grab some." Thanking them, Thia grabs a small jar of honey and a jug of milk and rushes off to the medical tent, where she tests the liquid stomach contents. There was some clouding of the milk, but when she dips the half-digested bread into the milk, it clouds up almost immediately. It's clear the the bread that was fed to this mouse was poisoned, which points to the arcanist testing a poison. 

Excitedly, Thia rushes back to Othmar's tent to tell the others. By her estimation, they might have another ten minutes or so before the guards would realise that they were charmed.

Arc, having been lost in the camp trying to come up with, almost fantastical designs judging by the jumble of loose pages in the book in his hand, and ink smears on his clothes, returned to hear the situation. He cocked his head to the side slightly while bringing his ink covered hand to his face to think. After a moment he releases his face, ignorant to the ink beard he left on his face, he pulled out a familiar cube and a light buzzing could be heard, filling the tent with static, similar to before. "Hmmm....if that's the case, finding a way to escape might now be in our interests. I can modify the carriage with some reinforcements instantly to act as a battering ram if need be. Alternatively, I can burn one of my turrets to self destruct, taking down the gate and the guards in front of it. No killing of course, but the blast should be enough to render them unable to pursue us for the immediate action."

He then looked over to Gyselle, Tarian and Othmar, "That said, I am only suggesting this as a preparation for the worst case scenario. Attempting to prove what is truly going on is imperative and the best option. However, it should be made notable that we have other options. Especially a method to escape." Arcius had no preference one way or the other, but didn't want to potentially endanger his own life...or the lives of these people, any more than he had to.

With Arc returning to the tent, you're all present and accounted for... which is good because not two minutes later, a sergeant pokes his head into your tent: "You're all coming with us now, Marshall's orders."

“Aye Sargent!” Gyselle says snapping to attention and giving a crisp little salute. After the flap closes, looks around at everyone, “who is going first?...”

Seeing as no one else was making any steps to go first, Thia would walk out to follow the Sergeant.

Arc would follow just after his fellow artificer, holding his noble mask of a stoic/bored expression.

“Looks like our time is up.” Tarian’s jaw clenched. “The watch is probably on alert for us now, so as much as I want to go with your escape plan, Arc, I doubt we’d make it even a mile past the gate.”

Tarian looked to Thia. “The letters do point to Hadrari as the origin of the Duskrock Pale Tincture formula.” She offered a conciliatory handshake. “I admit, you’re a better sleuth than I. If we survive the Marshal’s interrogation, I might ask your advice on a personal case I’ve been working.”

Tarian rolled her shoulders, squared her posture, then nodded, grim-faced, to Gyselle. “I’m ready.”

Brandt follows the others to the Marshal's tent.

Corti follows the others, grim-faced and sticking near Thia.

Gyselle follows after Thia and Corti. Though she is uncertain as to the nature of the summons, or if she was specifically asked for, she can’t help but skip along with a grin on her face.