KHAZUUL

Cutwell stands awkwardly atop the platform, looking at all the desperate faces looking up at the group. He doesn’t know if he’ll speak, but he supposes that they probably expect him too!

"We’ll need your help, won’t we?" he starts, looking at the miserable lot.

"Us lot are going up to burn that thing down…" he motions to himself and the others. "… and we’ll need you lot to come save our arses!" he says, hoping to get a laugh. They’d need to change up into combat and yes… take the pressure off of Sow, Flint, Freki and himself!

The Black Skull Hunters errupt in laughter at Cutwell's joke. There are bravadoed shouts of "Leave some for us!" and "Give 'em hell, Iron Fist!". Here, in Khazuul, they respect somebody who can smash a man's skull one minute, and tell a joke the next. With the Dreadwings perched dangerously nearby and the air filled with the smell of their fire flinger, even hardened men become willing to put their trust in those that promise victory.

Once you take your claim, nobody challenges you for the traitors' gear, though Tunny has you drag their bodies out of the supply lodge as he is anxious to secure it. He posts guards at the door, and spikes the base of the door for good measure. Later, he has the corpses strung up on the pole to remind everyone what happens to traitors. They attract a thick, buzzing cloud of gnats and flies.

The two hours to midnight pass quietly and without incident. Everyone gives you a wide berth to prepare as you wish. Some Hunters hone their weapons, others, like Saffron, invest in prayer.

Saffron gathers you as midnight approaches. "If I don't make it, don't take this sword like you did Thorn's. You do him much honour, don't get me wrong. But, this sword will bring you only trouble. In the union tongue, its name is Heaven's Will. It belonged to Uthman-ul-Dosht, the last Emperor of omce-mighty Gurkhul and all the Kantic lands. Uthman the Merciless. My father."

"With my father's passing, my other brothers are looking the world for it. Yes, even here in Khazuul. It is the sword that my father used to conquer the Kantic, and a symbol of great power, and they are eager to possess it, to strengthen their claim to the throne. Let it sink into the mud."

The thought dawns on you that this sword might be worth more than all the relics in Khazuul.

Business-like as the others whoop and cheer outside, Sow sets to work peeling the armor and possessions from the dead Skulls. She and Saffron know what needs doing, and they waste no time doing it. There's no pleasure for the girl in robbing dead men, but she does not think twice as she doffs her bulky brigantine armor and pulls on chainmail that will offer her better protection.

She re-emerges from the building as Cutwell does his recruiting, cutting a more impressive silhouette than she should with her new armor, bow, and glinting spear.

---

Later, that mail gleams by the low burning fire as Saffron reveals the truth about the weapon she carries.

Sow's broken voice is low and hoarse as her eyes linger first on the sheathed blade, and then on Saffron herself. "Tis cursed?" she asks simply.

In the end, Flint goes for the mirror, taking it with as little notice as possible for fear of a ribbing. He's fascinated with the idea of it and what secrets it might hold. Stashing it safely in his pack, he goes back outside and stares up at the gruesome sight of dead men hanging from the pole. The flies and gnats bother him more than the bodies themselves and he wonders if his humanity is dripping away.

Later as he listens to Saffron's story and the potential worth of her father's sword, he wonders about the logic of not keeping it.

"But its value, Saffron! Why I bet we could build a castle with the gold we might garner from the sale of such a piece! It might be worth the trouble it brings, eh? We could lie around and get fat without the need to find sustenance." He's only half joking.

Freki sits relatively quiet for awhile, recovering from his injury and mentally preparing to put himself back into danger. When Sow and Saffron bring out the gear they looted, he gladly accepts the chain mail. The layer of armor seems to lift his confidence a bit. In response to Saffron's comment and Flint's jest, he puts a hand on both their shoulders says with a smiles, "In that case, let's keep you alive Kiddo, so we don't need to worry about that."

As the commotion quiets down and everyone begins to prepare for the night's mission, Freki wanders off to the kennels to collect the dogs and stashes the gear he doesn't want to weigh him down.

Cutwell tries to fill his belly in the hours before they were to sneak into the night. Who knows what would happen when it came to a fight, and he didn’t fancy his chances of being chased through a hostile jungle; even less so on an empty stomach!

"Your other brothers, is it? And what about the one that was with you? He didn’t want it?" he asks, maybe indelicately. He wanted to get a measure of the issue, and see if it was a mere family feud.

Still adjusting the fit of her out-sized chainmail, still re-living moments of the desperate battle that had claimed the lives of several Black Skulls, Sow listens to Saffron's story, and her expression darkens. At first she seems at a loss for words, but then slams her spear into her shield, saying through gritted teeth, "We will stand with you. We will kill them if they try to harm you!" when there is mention of the other woman's brothers and their murderous intentions.

Cutwell wonders all the while why the woman simply doesn’t toss the thing into the swamp! Then she answers him that it’s pure vengeance that stops her hand from doing so. He makes a face. He doesn’t know what he thinks of that.

He understood it, surely. He wouldn’t mind, save for the danger the sword presented to himself and the others. But then Sow is all fire, and who is he to say otherwise. The gang might call him Ironfist, and think of him as some sort of leader. Those gathered around the flame knew him to be anything but; always eager to push someone else into the spotlight, if their competency allowed for it!

"Aye, we will. Won’t we?"

"I understand, Saffron. What a terrible burden for you to carry. Don't blame yourself for not giving us this news. We are a formidable lot for a young girl to face. Isn't that so?" Flint asks of the men.

You are brave and strong, and we will stand behind you and your decision."

Perhaps Flint felt that protecting Saffron would allow him the redemption he sought.

Freki nods with the others, "We appreciate the heads up about the danger Saff, but I think we're all in agreement. We're in this together now, so we've got your back."

His hand touches the bandage around his neck and he realizes that he could have died today and he hadn't considered what would happen to his stuff. He looks at his companions and adds, "If I go back to the mud, make sure you all take this." He pulls a map from his pack to show them. On it is a rough sketch of Khazuul with an "X" deep into the jungle with some details that will hopefully be recognizable.

"My mother gave this to me. Her dying act after she was mortally injured when the University was raided by barbarians from the North. Seems a lifetime ago now. I grew up there, she was a scholar, an archeologist. My father was the gamekeeper. They both died, the university destroyed. Somehow I escaped. But she gave me this before I fled. Part of her research. There's supposed to be some wondrous treasure there."

He's quiet for awhile and then finishes with, "Anyways, if I go down, I don't want it to just get lost in the mud. Take it, and if you can find it, do something good with it ... for her."