The elvish guard had begun drawing, but stopped when you moved onto the disembodied hand, and just looked in Ripplee’s direction. The lieutenant looked at Atal, the belief of his words, beginning to slightly drain from her face. “So you’re saying that you have knowledge that there’s some creature eating people in Midgar, and it’s either a bat, a hand, or a ghost?”

When Kel got the halfling’s attention, he quickly waddled over, standing toe to toe with the tiefling. He reached into his vest and pulled out a folded and sealed letter. Stretching himself, he attempted to reach and stuff the paper into Kel’s hand.

Kel stooped a bit to take the sealed letter from the diminutive Blemish. He rested back against the wall again, barely hearing Atal and the Guard going over details. They either had something to go off of or this city was completely screwed when it came to security and should have been annexed into the Territory a long time ago. He raised an eyebrow at the letter, then carefully opened it, giving the contents a once over. 

"Though it may sound crazy and surreal, I assure you that Atal’s words are true. We fought the giant bat outside the Maiden’s Bossom Inn. It fled once we gained the upper hand. Your soldiers should keep an eye out in the sky in case it comes back. If you have seen Ser D’armes, you must have noticed the loss of one of his hands. It is currently roaming the streets, animated by some dark magic. As for the spirit, Uthal and I saw her with our own eyes. We thought we heard a women crying and went to investigate. The spirit led us into a trap. Her scream was terrifying. It felt as though my very soul had turned to ice and shattered." Anearis tried to back up Atal’s testimony with what he believed to be the truth. To him, these poor soldiers needed to know what they were up against.

Her gaze shifted to Anearis. “You’re missing the point young man. We’re well aware of the existence of ghosts and goblins and zombies. Certainly, it’s not something that we regularly deal with, but they’re not unheard of. However, you’re friend here made mention of some creature eating people of Midgar, the same creature or creatures that held the now dead at the priory.”

The Lieutenant had begun to get somewhat agitated as she spoke. “We have a great number dead, and you tell us there are some other threats, doing something of which we have no knowledge, and making claims that seem to be increasingly unsubstantiated.” 

A few guards approach from the party’s rear, but she waved them off. “If you know something of additional threats to the  city, tell us now. Otherwise, we thank you for whatever assistance you may have offered...” She glanced over at the crumbled wreckage of the North Barracks. “but perhaps you and yours should move on.”

Uthal looks down at her and speaks in a tone of someone clearly done with the days events. "Just because you do not believe does not mean it is not true. You people of the young kingdoms would do well to remember that this land and some of its problems are older than you. And maybe stranger than you are used too as well. Just a thought." He then begins marching off back to the Inn.

„I can tell you the truth, but I can‘t make you believe it,“ Atal says.  „But hey, I‘m new to this continent.  Any one of those things, or all of them together, could be this Black Beast of Aaaarg the Arbitrator mentioned.  He did say something about the smoke being related to all this.“. Atal thinks for a moment, and grows unusually serious - not actually an act, this time, as he addresses the lieutenant.

“Whatever you do, be careful.  The hand I spoke of - the one you‘re making fun of me for mentioning right now - belonged to the Arbitrator.  And the Arbitrator himself wanted it cut off when it grew posessed.  Not by some nebulous spirit or ghost, but by an actual thick black ichor that came leaking out of it once it was severed.  Your legendary „Black Beast“ might have no form at all, if it can be anywhere, at anytime, in anyone unfortunate enough to become infected by it.  The Arbitrator caught it in time, and made a sacrifice to stop it.  But what a thought... if maybe whatever made that smoke, simply compelled the victims you found to kill each other.“

Deciding he‘s helped cities full of racist humans enough for three lifetimes over, Atal shrugs.  „Well, do what you like.  After listening to myself, I‘m convinced you‘re right with that advice.  Good luck with your prophecy and leave me out of the good fight from now on.“

Frustrated with the party’s answers, the woman sends the guard with the sketch pad away. She called to the guards behind the party. “Let them go. They can offer us nothing more right now. We’ll wait for Private Ryehan and Sergeant York to wake, and take their statements as well.” 

She muttered something to Blemish as she passed him and began issuing orders to the South Midgar guardsmen. Blemish looked at the party and of course said nothing but gave an innocent shoulder shrug.

The party was left to their own devices, with a still unconscious Ander at their feet. The two Northern guards having been turned over, tasks were apparently underway securing the area and searching the barracks rubble. By now the sun had done more than just peek above the horizon. It was morning and citizens of Midgar had begun to come out into the streets.

Unsealing the letter given it Kel, there is a barely legible message written on the paper. While it doesn’t use his name directly, it’s obvious that he was the intended recipient, on behalf of the party:

Fireborn,

Forgive my penmanship, as new hands take some getting used to. I give my thanks for the actions you’ve all taken at this point, even at the cost of my natural limb.

By the time this letter finds you, I will be well on my way, to the Stronghold of the Black Beast. I did not abandon you all, or the city, and in fact will dispatch a large group of the South Midgar guard to assist. But there is a larger threat to be dealt with, and I cannot risk the lives of you five more than you have already. Just as I know your flame is far from burning out, so to do I see that the others have a destiny that awaits them.

I strongly urge you to work with them. What they lack in social skills, formalities, and forethought, they make up for in other ways. If I did not believe it so, I would never have trusted you all with the safe guarding of the North Midgar, this night.

Perhaps we shall meet once again, if I survive. It is unlikely, that will be so, even if I succeed. In which case, I bestow my stock of firewater to you, we’ll what’s left of it. Blemish will assist. However, if I do return and the drink has already been pillaged, the Great Flame would not stop me from hunting you down.

Give my thanks to the rest of the adventurers. I hope you all manage to find whatever it is you’re looking for.

~Pas D’armes, Arbitrator of Midgar, the Last of the Fireclaimed Black Knights

At the bottom of the paper, almost as a note of authenticity, something that only a Kel would understand, was a drawing of a triangle with a crown of fire. While the rest of the letter was written in black ink, the picture was in gold.

Kel read the letter as the others grew frustrated with the guard liason. He read certain parts twice over and upon completion sighed. "You fool, you damn fool." he muttered, carefully folding the letter and securing it in one of his pouches. He gave Blemish a thoughtful look for a moment as the Lieutenant marched off. "Seems you and I have some decisions to make..." He pushed off from the wall and gave a look to the others. Uthal had begun to walk towards the Maiden, which was well and good that was Kel's intended destination. Anearis and Ura ...Atal!... Atal, lingered, Ander was still out. The tiefling stooped with a sigh and got Ander into a carry/drag position. "A little help with your friend." he stated at a slightly louder voice before following the Goliaths footsteps.

"Blemish." Kel turned his head toward the smaller figure, motioning for him to follow, to talk and walk. "We need to rest before..." he chewed air for a moment, searching for words. "...before they decide what it is they want to do I suppose." He had a face full of thoughts, none of them bringing a light to his features. He snapped back to the present. "If there are things we could use that the Arbitrator has left behind please gather them in the Spire, we had some coin spent at the Maidens and will take our rest there if they still honor it." he paused. "If not, could you see about locating some coin, I will cover the price and recoup it after we have rested and recovered fully at the Maidens. I think the Arbitrator can afford us five gold dragons for the nights activities." He smirked, then grew serious again. "We can then reconvene at the Spire and let them decide from there." He gave Blemish a side glance. "Of course this is assuming we can utilize the Spire as a place we can talk privately and it to did not go up like kindling in the night or be taken over by the guard. Is it still available?"

Uthal turns around and silently scoops up Ander before heading back on his way. 

As Kel read over the letter, Blemish strained the stretch his neck and stand as tall as he could, in the hopes that his eyeline broke over the plane of the paper. It was apparent that the halfling hadn’t been privy to what was written down, and his curiosity was in full swing.

In response to Kel’s later inquiries, Blemish for the most part simply stared blankly up at the tiefling, providing unknowing shoulder shrugs. The only change came when asking if the Spire was still open to them. The halfling sadly shone his head, pointing at the Arbitrator’s name, on the paper. 

Then, as though inspiration struck regarding one of Kel’s earlier questions, Blemish dig into his pants pockets, and retrieved three coins (1sp and 2cp), and a button. He held them out to Kel, displaying them proudly, awaiting him to take it as payment for services rendered the previous night.

Kel sighed, wondering if perhaps they would be forced to pay for the air they were breathing or have to fight the earth for every step they wanted to take next. Kel reached out a hand and took the button. "Perfect compensation for a night of nothing ventured and nothing gained." He stowed the button. "Well done Blemish. Let me impart a bit of wisdom." Kel took on a stoic appearance. "When you do things right people will be certain you have done nothing at all." He gave a glance down to the tiny paige. "Which is why I often settle up for half before I start slaying monsters." He thought for a moment. "The Arbitrator, he lock the tower? Is that why we can't use it?"

Holding his hand up, longer than necessary, even after Kel removes the button, Blemish eventually lowered his arm and returned the coins to his pocket. The button is cool to the touch and smooth. It is black in color. ((Kel can add Blemish Button to his inventory.))

Blemish shook his head, and lifted the side of his vest, pointing to a ring of two keys at his hip. Lowering the fabric and covering the keys again, Blemish then points to D’armes’s name once again and then points out the gate, as if a further explanation to answering the question. 

A crowd of curious and concerned citizens begins to gather, observing the wreckage of the North Midgar Barracks, and the large number of South Midgar Guards surrounding the area. Several of the South guards leave what they were doing in order to cordon off the area, waving citizens to back up. “Move along, nothing to see here.” One of the elvish guards approaches the party. “You’re all going to have to move along as well.”

Uthal just continues carrying Ander back to the inn, thinking to himself that the guards couldn't even be counted to let the healer take a look at the obviously injured man. 

Atal follows after Uthal, similarly disillusioned and honestly just looking for a place to pass out once again -- this time at his own behest.

Atal and Uthal, carrying Ander, leave the cordoned area, passing by the covered wagon, where the clerk had been brought, and where Sergeant York was currently being loaded by a couple southern guards and a north Midgar guard as well. 

Many citizens were already whispering and gossiping about what may have happened. “An attack from South Midgar on the North Midgar guard, obviously”, said a stubborn and oddly as it may sound, uneducated-looking human. “You dolt, it’s the work of the barbarians in the North. They probably have spies here still,” replied a withered elderly gnome woman. “I bet it was the Arbitrator, trying to insight some war!” mentioned a voice. “Yeah, the Arbitrator.” The reply came from a different location in the crowd altogether but sounded strangely identical. However, no one else in the crowd seem receptive to this.

Kel nodded at Blemish's simple explanation for the Arbitrator. "I'm aware." he patted the pouch that held the note. "In that case Blemish, after we have rested I will look for you at the Spire. If anything arises, we will be at the Maidens, just point the tiefling in our direction." He tilted his head. "Rather I suppose I will tell him to look for you." Kel chuckled quietly, moving down the street at an easy pace for the smaller figure to follow.

Anearis followed the group as they headed back to the Maiden's Bossom. He tried to ignore the gossips in the crowd. Their need to spread such outlandish theories felt odd to the young elf.

Blemish remains at the scene, as the party begins off, pushing throw the crowd.

The way back to the Maiden’s Bossom was otherwise uneventful. The streets were much more alive, comparatively to the previous night. Fruit and fish sellers were pushing carts and calling out to pedestrians, attempting to sell their wares. Various shops and businesses were opening their doors and windows, putting out signs and stands. The difference was the difference between night and day, both figuratively and literally. Several looks are cast upon the Goliath carrying the seemingly lifeless armored figure, flopping as he walked, though no one bothered to do anything further than offer quick stares.

Upon reaching the Maiden’s Bossom, Vincent is right outside, assisting a human female, with tying down some packs to a mule. He notices the party, and shines a quick knowing smile, and a nod to the group before returning to assisting and conversing with the woman. 

Kel took in the morning sights with a distant look. If this had been a typical morning, he likely would have found himself perusing stands and inquiring about local issues. With the creatures that were running around he was bound to find some easy silver work for his sword and larger groups to tackle the tougher beasts. ...like a Bilwmyy... He shuddered at the thought of the keening undead and returned his focus on the present. The city was something like a partygoer. It had this mask about it and Kel was suddenly unsure which was the real face, the night or the day? He dismissed the thoughts from his mind. He needed a cool herbal bath and some well deserved sleep. ...then proper food and drink... He agreed with himself on that at least. Then he could see about the others and decide from there.

Kel offered a lazy left handed salute by way of returning salutation to Vincent. He stifled another yawn and made to enter the front door.