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Ander Vale

Ander stays on the dry stone of the threshold and does not step into the grease. The sword hangs at his side. He looks past Gullian to the thing in the puddle. "Sootmurk. I am Ander Vale. I rode the King's Road the season people came off it and did not come back. I want those captives. Named. Breathing. Walking out of here on their own feet. We can talk price. I will not put steel through it while you consider. I am not coming in." He sets his shield toward the lip of the puddle, watching the grease itself as much as the men in it.

DM

Five broad heads rise from the grease ten feet away, spears level, but Gullian does not order them forward. Farther back, a vast black shape opens one eye. The captain draws himself up. “Captain Gullian receives all petitions to Her Murkiness. The audience fee is every coin you carry, one torch, and the honour of surrendering your weapons at the door. Captives,” he adds after checking whether Sootmurk is listening, “are priced separately.”

Brea Thornwick

Brea leaves the bow lowered. She looks past Gullian. “Sootmurk. Every magical thing in area nine for every King’s Road captive. Alive. Walking. Our weapons stay with us until they do.”

DM

“Area nine,” Sootmurk repeats. Her other eye opens. Gullian begins, “Your Murkiness, they have not paid—” “Every object in those chambers that holds magic,” she says over him. “Delivered to the north doors. Then every King’s Road captive leaves named, alive, and walking. Keep your weapons while you remain outside my threshold.” She smiles at Gullian. “The audience fee is waived.” The captain slowly lowers his spear.