It should not have been a surprise to the nervous young man that Virryn and Grivallt already had things well in hand without requiring any input from him. Shortly after Talimar departed for his own task, Virryn dressed Kre up in similar servant’s garb and led him down to the main Ylveryan quarters. There, Kre discovered that the Ylveryans had been planning this revolt seemingly since the first day they had been enslaved. They just needed the right catalyst to start it all off.
That’s where the Red Feather Adventuring Company came in.
This was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up, and every Ylveryan that Kre met was fully aware of that fact.
At every place they visited, he was the recipient of grateful nods, whispered thanks, and hopeful smiles. He was also the recipient of small makeshift weapons, copies of keys molded in both clay and carved from wood, and Dweorvkin-sized changes of clothes.
By the time an hour had passed, they had two baskets laden with contraband hidden under dirty clothes.
“The others will be delivering some food and drinks to the guards once the fights begin. We originally hoped to lace them with sleeping herbs, but we did not have enough to make it really count. We could not risk a guard being only partially dosed as they might recognize the danger and rouse an alarm too soon.”
“So, then what is our plan to deal with the guards?”
Virryn shrugged, “I believe that is your job to come up with one. Did not your leader task you with such a thing?”
Though he knew she was right, he sighed and shook his head. “How many… how many are there?” he asked. He tried to hide his nervousness at not really knowing what to do next, but he at least knew he needed more information before he would allow himself to fully panic.
“Six total, I think. Two for each of the two chambers with two more on rotation.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Kre mused. “If we can get Ortho and Gnore armed quickly, they can help take down each pair one at a time.”
“There are also another dozen or so guards armed and ready for an alarm,” Virryn continued. “They always wait in reserve in the ready room. The Master was a former soldier, so he claims, and he maintains his guard staff in a state of constant preparation for any action.”
“Oh,” Kre muttered loudly, “well that’s just wonderful.”
Virryn laughed softly, “Oh, but do not worry over those guards. When the time comes, they will be handled. You must only worry over the six at their posts.”
“Well, when you say it like that,” Kre muttered again.
“This is a good thing you are doing,” she added, her eyes turned away so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You and your friends. I do not know of many others that would go to such great lengths to help their friends, let alone a large group of Ylveryan slaves. Most would simply walk away and hire on with a new company.”
Kre considered that for a moment. He wondered if this was in fact something his own friends would do if it had been him that had been captured and carried away for Heaven knows what kind of future.
‘Is that not what happened?’ Tralagar’s voice was soft, yet distinctly strong in his mind, as if the voice were echoing his own thoughts perfectly. ‘Did not your friends simply wave farewell to you as you were carted off?’
“They’re not like that,” Kre muttered, pressing a hand to the side of his head. “My friends aren’t like that at all.”
Virryn nodded, believing Kre had been responding to her. She took no notice that the young man seemed to be struggling with some kind of inner demon. Even if she had noticed, there was doubtless nothing she could do to help.