Forgotten Shadows

[Jerusha]

"Let's not doom this quest before we even get started, Bede," Elspeth Rowan said with just a touch or asperity.  "I would not want to have wasted your time."  She turned and started toward the University without looking to see if he followed.

"Is she always so abrupt?" Bede asked as he and Amy fell into step behind her.

"Oh no, you've caught her on a good day," Amy replied innocently.  "Usually she's quite snarly."

"I'll be happy with my good fortune." 

Elspeth led the way through the winding streets.  As they grew closer to the University itself, they seemed to be engulfed by students of varying ages.  The two women became aware of the quizzical looks that came their way; this was the domain of men upon which they were encroaching.

Elspeth straightened her shoulders as she approached the gate. She did not expect them to pass through unchallenged, and she was right.  An older, graying man in a clerical robe stepped forward from the gatehouse.  He had the presence of one who expected to be obeyed.

"You cannot enter further.  Women are not allowed within the University of Grecotha."

"We are here on behalf of the Infirmarian of the Hospice of Saint Stefan's Priory to meet with Canon Damian.  I have a letter of introduction from the Prior for him"  Elspeth said politely, producing a scroll from her satchel.  She did not offer it to the porter.

"Canon Damian is not available today," the porter stated curtly.  "If you will give me the letter, I will give it to him, and he will decide whether to meet with you or not."

"That is not acceptable, I'm afraid," Elspeth replied, though still respectful and polite.  She kept her voice even, and although her face was shaded by her hood, Bede could have sworn he saw the blue hawk-eye flash.  "I am to present the letter to him personally."  She slipped the scroll back into her satchel.  "I would not overrule my instructions, as I am sure you understand. When will be the best time to present ourselves tomorrow?"

"I can't say as there is a good time, Mistress.  You could stand outside the gate all day, and likely the next, but I cannot guarantee your entrance.  Perhaps if you trust me with the letter?"  The porter allowed his question to hang in the air.

Elspeth appeared to consider his proposal, but then she shook her head.  "I'll grant that you would see the letter safely to Canon Damian," she finally said. "But it would not be prudent to allow even the smallest chance for it to be misplaced."  Elspeth gave a small smile.  "Even in spite of the best of intentions."

The porter gave her a stony look.  "It is your choice, Mistress.  Return tomorrow if you like, or the day after, or whenever.  I give you no promises of admittance."

Elspeth looked at the old porter.  "I am not looking for promises; I look for a fair and reasonable response to our request.  Until tomorrow."  Elspeth nodded her head and turned away back toward the town.

Bede and Amy followed her.  Bede admired the women for standing her ground with grace and resolution.  But perhaps "snarly" would have gotten more favorable results.

[revanne]

Edwin found himself strangely moved by the rhythm and meaning of the words he read aloud. Even when he had copied the translation out a few years back he had been vaguely aware of the beauty and power of the words, though that had soon been overlaid by the need to copy as quickly as possible.

Staring into space is all well and good for them as don't 'ave bills ta pay.

Edwin shook his head irritably to rid himself of his father's voice, and allowed himself to open to the beauty of the words as they resonated in his mind. Was this what it meant to be Deryni? No, the hymn was only speaking of healers, but even so, to know oneself endowed with power by the Creator. To ignore that was surely sin.

He shook himself again, now he was beginning to sound like a priest. That was the danger of studying alongside them he guessed. Maybe holiness was catching, like the sweating sickness. It was time to get out of here and into the King's Arms before Eric decided that his research companion was away with the fairies.

Edwin looked up and caught a strange, almost wistful expression in the other's eyes. Well that definitely was none of his business, and it was clearly well past time they took themselves off to the King's Arms where they had got their supper and nightly ale the last couple of evenings.

"Come on now m'lord, you owe me for that finding. Supper and drinks are both on you I reckon."

Eric looked pleased enough to put his mood aside, though he grimaced at the form of address more than half jocular though it was. 

"Aye, Master Scholar, I'll grant you that." 

Edwin hid his grin at the other's neat repost to his own formality. He felt that they were like a pair of dogs who had got past the cautious circling and were just beginning to sniff at each other, though each keeping their guard up. Hardly the most respectful of analogies, especially as he had begun to suspect that his companion's background was rather more elevated than he had let on.

The way to the tavern was by now familiar to them both and the September evening beginning to be chilly they didn't linger on the way. The Arms was crowded, with as usual, a smattering of fellow students that Edwin knew and more folk that he didn't. One of the latter he certainly had no intention of getting to know better, his scowl was enough to turn the ale sour. Finding that there were two spaces free at the end of one of the long tables, they sat down opposite each other with their mugs of ale and waited for the serving girl to bring their bowls of stew. By the savoury smell which arose from the bowls of those already eating tonight's offering was some sort of fish. Airich was somewhat scandalised to see Edwin stretch round behind his neighbour and peer into a full bowl. Unabashed he reported, "Looks good. Some sort of thick fish soup with grains. The food's usually good here; mind, the guv'nor here should be able to afford a decent cook the amount of money he rakes in from his ale."

Airich, looking around rather more circumspectly, noticed that some tables had whole platters of fish on them, and wondered why Edwin had been so insistent on ordering them bowls of stew brought ready served from the kitchen.

Noticing where Eric was looking, Edwin explained, "If you pay for a portion from the common platter, it's more than likely the greedy carrion in the middle of the table will eat the best bits before we can get a look in. I'm not paying for someone else to eat half my dinner, that's why I always bespeak it served up from the kitchen."

Airich thought with amusement that Edwin had no intention of paying for his dinner anyway, he was more than happy to defer to himself in that. In their conversation over the last couple of days Edwin had made it clear that he was glad to escape the confines of his family business in Culdi. He was happy to talk about his background. Lucky man, having nothing to hide in that respect at least. For all his protests though, it seemed to Airich that Edwin was no more glad to waste good coin than his father. 

The food when it came was as good as it had promised.

[Laurna]

The King's Arms Inn and Tavern had beds available for their small group.  As there were less travelers in Grecotha, a time before the full ranks of students return to the universities, there were not any other women to share a larger room with at the inn. With a little haggling, Elspeth afforded the smallest of the private rooms for herself and Amy. Their arms-man, Bede, rented a small cot in a larger room with several men, it was just down the hall from where the women were. He was considering moving the cot to the hallway across the girls door for the night. He wasn't sure the innkeeper was going to take too kindly to this act; he would wait and see if it became necessary. Elspeth didn't seem adverse to the idea, though she thought it a bit over protective. After all, the King's Arms was a reputable establishment; she had stayed here before with her mother.  After freshening up in their room, Amy and Elspeth made their way to the main common room on the ground floor. Amy appreciated the clean neat space where diners ate and drinkers happily tossed down ale between loud stories told without seeming to be well into their cups. But then it was still early.

Bede waved the two women over to open spaces on a bench he had saved for them. Places with the warm hearth at their backs. "The kitchens are serving a fish banquet tonight, I ordered our share with them also at table, it should be along any moment." The man seemed quite pleased with himself for taking the initiative. Amy looked across the table at the three eager men in student's robes who seemed rather pleased to find two women at their table. And yet they weren't staring at Amy the way some lascivious boys do. Amy was puzzled, they seemed more pleased with their own jokes and their cups of ales. Amy decided Bede could do what he had been paid to do if the need arose, so she relaxed to take in their surroundings.

The common room was bustling with activity, it was a tall narrow room of stone and plaster with wood paneling along the back wall where the barkeep tended to the ale. The space was lit well enough by hanging candelabras and hearth at their backs. A large window of diamond-panes was set at the front next to the door and a row of smaller windows along the wall opposite the hearth gave a view of the inn's small courtyard. The patrons were all men, from the young to the old, nearly all in the robes of the varying universities that were housed within the walls of Grecotha. There were no private tables to be had, only long trestle tables and benches against the walls and row down the center. 

Whoops from the three students cheered the cook on as he set a long trencher down the center of their table. The communal dish of the night was a long white fish, still with head and tail, laid on its side over a mash of slivered almonds and short grains. The server held up his hand before any of the spoons could delve into the delicate meal. He poured a steaming white liquid of almond milk seasoned with cinnamon and ginger over the whole of the fish and then sprinkled a tiny amount of very expensive saffron herb over the whole. If the diners tipped him quickly, he would add more. The man opposite Amy did so and more saffron was added to the dish. Pocketing the extra coin, the cook stood back; the moment he did so six spoons dug into the meal. The three men on the far side only hesitated momentarily until the two women had had their first chance at the dish. They both tried the almonds and rice in their first bits, neither willing to rip into the flesh of the fish. Seeing this, Bede held up his hand stopping the carnage,  produced his small eating knife and cut off portions of fish for his charges and himself, he set those bits closer to their side of the trencher. It was a good thing that he did, for in minutes the whole fish had been devoured by the other three ravenous students. Fresh pitchers of ale sat at each side of the table. Bede had been certain to retain the one for the three of them. For the other pitcher had been emptied far faster than their own.

With the fish gone the three students laughed, got up, and left their table seeking more food at the next table. Amy sighed relief at their leaving and took another spoonful of the sliced almonds and rice. It was mild yet delicious, a food she had not eaten before. Bede happily filled in the history of the food for her. "The grains are from the east, from the principalities of the Buffer States. We ate this often when I was there, I never thought I would dine on rice and almonds again."

Elspeth nodded in agreement, her hood still over her head, muffled her soft words so only Bede and Amy could hear. "Mother asked the cook on our last trip here, where she could purchase such grains. Mother nearly choked when she was told the price of these imports. Apparently there are enough foreign students here of wealthy families that the tavern has taken to offering these outlandishly rich meals at smaller prices to us travelers." Feeling self-conscious for offering so much, Elspeth pulled her hood closer over the top of her head. No one could see her face clearly now that it was shadowed by the light of the fire behind them.

Greedily Bede finished his side of the trencher, picking at the fish bones and setting them far from the women. Amy was unsure about all that saffron, yet she happily nibbled at the bits that she knew had none. Which really was not hard to find as the students had devoured most of the meal that the saffron had touched. Elspeth was more retrospective, eating slowly at what remained.

While the girls dined on the remains, Bede launched into a story of a winter season spent in the Focinne Buffer States avoiding Gwynedd's snowfall. Amy laughed at a crude part and Elspeth shook her head in disbelief. When the 'man-at-arms' story was all said and done, Amy looked back at her friend and saw a faint smile that showed Elspeth appreciation of the tale. Amy offered her own tale about working at the Broken Mast. For her it was a good story about friendship and she was happy to tell it.

[Marc_du_Temple]

((Bede has or has not Perception of someone in the Grecotha tavern. 2d6 1 + 2 = 3)) Amy was saying something, Bede knew, but he was not listening. He was shamelessly staring at a barmaid employed by the tavern, with hair like carrageenan moss. She had a captivating calm in her manner, as if she were the guardian of something sacred, but he knew it was her own happiness. For a share of such happiness, he had once posted a carilus flower upon a neighbor's birchen door. His voice had cracked like glass as he boldly and fearfully sang the ave like his father once did, but it had worked, confirming his joy with an embrace. But that was before the uprising. They were just children then. It had been so long since he had seen her face that he had almost begun to lose the memory of it. Nonetheless, stranger things than a chance encounter here had happened lately, so he looked a little harder. Before he was certain of anything, before he dared speak her name, the barmaid noticed him as well. In the uncertain light, her eyes were unknowable, unrecognizable, and then she was lost in the crowd. To be seen again, he had no doubt, but not yet.

[Laurna]

Amy stopped her tale realizing Bede had made no response to her jest. The young man had not heard anything she had said. His eyes were wide focused on one thing. Amy followed his gaze and saw the back head of a girl with thick red-auburn locks slip out of sight. She looked back at their man-at-arms as he now seemed to be searching the room to find her again.  Amy turned her spoon around and poked him in the ribs with it. The poor man acted like he had been stabbed. Belatedly, Amy regretted her action and shifted away.  "You have wounded me, madam. Shall I fall dead at your feet?"  Bede over-reacted like a stage fellow, holding his heart and pretending to fall off the bench.

Amy laughed out loud then stifled her giggle when Elspeth's hand touched her arm to desist. More quietly Amy said with a nod to both her companions, one at either side of her "I do apologize."  Subdued, Amy tried to explain."I was just thinking how any poor girl could handle themselves in this boisterous crowd.  And I thought sailors were bad."

All three nodded in agreement as the loudness and roughness in the tavern seemed to grow as the evening light outside fell away. "You know, I came through this town before," Amy admitted.  "I learned quickly enough that the only place for a woman here was as a laundress, a barmaid, or a h...; you know what I mean,"  she said, eyes down-caste. "Heaven help me, if I ever fall that far." She whispered while ducking her head, knowing that one time she might have...; she feared a taint very close to that, though only known by a few people, had succeeded in staining her soul forever. "I left Grecotha right quick and never thought I would be back here again."

"That is where we meet," Elspeth said quickly. "We see this girl struggling along the road from Grecotha to Carbury toward the nunnery," she said. "Mother, Carew and I were in a wagon going home with goods. We had just enough room in the back for her to seat herself. We dropped Amy off at the nunnery, and on my next visit there,  we two got to talking. Turns out Amy is really good with reading people, especially the injured. We started working together. .... Well time passed and months later, Amy had to make a choice: to be a nun or to move on."

"Do I look like a nun to you?"  Amy said with a laugh. "That would have been heretical of me to try."

"I don't agree," Elspeth said with sincerity. "Well, as it was, Amy needed a job and Geoffrey needed new girls. And I got a good friend I can count on."

Amy smiled at that. "Our friendship is the one thing life has allowed me to keep," she replied.

[Nezz]

Airich hadn't mentioned to Edwin that he was quite familiar with the King's Arms, as he was staying in one of the upstairs rooms. And, as usual, the stew was delicious. Likewise the ale. Full with the slight aftertaste of apple. Airich drained his mug and thought about poetry.

The words of the hymn sat with him still. Sang to him, truth be told. He would swear he could hear the voices harmonizing together, the soloist's clear soprano ringing throughout the cathedral, singing of the blessing of being an instrument in the hands of the Holy Father. He reached into his jerkin and touched the holy medallion that stayed warm against his chest.

"That's the one problem with the stew, it'll give you indigestion something fierce if you're not careful," Edwin said, mistaking Airich's gesture.

"Th'stew dinna trouble me," Airich murmured, his mind still elsewhere.

Edwin threw his head back and laughed. Airich came back to himself, wondering what had caused Edwin's joviality. He didn't have long to wonder.

"You said 'dinna!'" he said, pointing at Airich. "I definitely heard it that time. You may be court-educated, but you're a highlands bumpkin, just like me! Why, I'll wager your Christian name is really Alric or Ailfred, and your family name is O'Connor or O'Malley or O'Paddy or something like that."

Blast the nurse who'd raised him and instilled a highland accent he couldn't shake. Airich tried to think of some way to refute his Edwin's accusation, but he was feeling too good and Edwin's laughter was too infectious. A grin broke through his stern exterior and he let out a chuckle. "My mother may have called me Airich a time or two," he said, stressing the correct pronunciation.

"Very good, Lord Airich O'Paddy, I think I deserve another ale for deducing that brilliant conclusion."

"Very well, Master Scholar, but only if you—"

Danger. Cornered. Trapped.

Edwin winced. Airich was off the bench and scanning the room, looking for the source of the silent cry. There. The auburn-haired serving girl, clutching her wooden platter to her chest. A group of laughing men behind her, with a large man leering over her. She didn't scream, but her fear was nearly physical, far beyond the usual annoyance of a barmaid to a handsy patron.

The voices in his head went through a quick war: mind his own business or obey the precepts of chivalry. There was little doubt which he would choose and which voice he ignored. He was moving before he'd even finished the thought.

"King's Peace, friend," Airich said to the man, slipping between the two and startling the bigger man into stepping back. "It's hard to get a drink when the tavern's so crowded, eh? But it's not the poor girl's fault. Let me buy you and your friends a round of this excellent ale and allow the girl get back to work."

The man stared at Airich as if he were some small insect that had crawled out from the slime. Airich held his ground and his smile, even as he suspected this wouldn't go well.

"If you want... peace... friend," the other man said, "you should go sit down and drink your own ale. She's none of your concern."

"Oh? Are you her father?"

"No."

"Her brother?"

"No."

"Her husband?"

A pause, then, "Yes."

The girl, shaking behind Airich, whispered, "He's not, he was my sister's husband."

"You lying slut! You'd better—" the man lunged at the girl. He stopped when Airich planted a fist in his face¹.

The punch didn't drop him, but it certainly surprised him; a man that size probably wasn't used to anyone standing up to him. It didn't stop him for long, though.²

"Run," Airich ordered the girl, relieving her of her wooden platter and pushing her towards the kitchen.
¹ Normal attack, Disadvantage 1d6= 6, success
² tough guy swings back, Disadvantage 1d6=4, failure

[revanne]

Edwin had remained frozen where he was for a few seconds, the sense of discomfort he felt like when his father teased his belt down his back in preparation for a beating. He watched Airich confront the larger man, who didn't look like a student, and then deck him across the jaw with a wicked right. The bigger man did not look pleased. Neither did his friends.

Edwin's instinct for a fight kicked in. Airich might only be a mate of a few days, but he was a mate, and that was enough. He jumped to his feet just as a resounding thud echoed round the tavern, the low ceiling and wooden paneling creating an ominous echo: the big man's fist had just connected with a wooden platter Airich held before him. Lucky thing, the blow hadn't connected or Edwin might be down one mate. But so intent on the man before him, Airich couldn't see what Edwin saw another man coming up to grab Airich from behind. Ducking and weaving in the way that he had learnt as the smallest of three brothers, he darted between Airich and his would-be assailant and aimed a blow in a place that had the latter doubled up ((roll advantage 4+3+5 =12). As the man staggered back in pain Edwin thrust hard against his shoulder which, off balance as he was, brought him toppling to the floor. ((Attack at advantage 5+1+6 =12))

Edwin stood panting, thankful that he felt no compunction to fight according to any knightly code. Which was a good thing as several more of the big man's friends joined in the fighting.

[Laurna]

Amy's nerves were shaking her awake from the blissful meal; so used to men and their stupid aggressions after a few cups of drink that she hardly noticed the commotion at first. Wasn't there someone like Carew in a tavern like this? Trouble was they were sitting too close to the action, now that more than two men had joined in the play. She jumped up with a grasp on each of her companions wrists and made to pull them away toward the side wall. ((Amy pulls her companions away 2x1d6 1d6=3 1d6=1 Failures)) Her two companions were unmovable, Elspeth was only waking up to the danger, and Bede was as tense as stone. He shook her hand off, his full attention on where the barmaid had been shoved to. Amy missed her balance and promptly fell backward, her rump slamming hard onto the stone floor. "Mother!" she cursed under her breath. She had only just added to the chaos.

[Marc_du_Temple]

By now, Bede was not the only one captivated by the disturbance. Half of the bar had begun jeering and cheering. Some rooted for the outsiders, others for the faces they recognized regardless of who was in the wrong, and some among them even started placing bets. Uncharacteristically frozen, Bede thought someone had tried to get his attention. Maybe the same patron who was trying to get him to join in the betting. "Another time, man," he said amicably and resumed his ursine analysis. It did not seem right to bet on someone else's safety, not tonight. Maybe he could find a way to not compromise his job or his few meaningful social ties, or if he were not careful, they would be cut in a single stupendous stroke.

[Nezz]

On one hand, having Edwin at Airich's back meant neither was going to be clobbered from behind; on the other hand, Airich was acutely aware of Edwin's lack of protection, a cotte and scholar's robes being worthless in a fight. Fortunately, most of their opponents weren't any better armored than Edwin. And Edwin was beginning to look like he was enjoying himself.

Still, that big fellow in front of Airich had already clouted his ear once and left it ringing. The man had a punch like a bull. Fortunately, he was slow and signaled his moves well ahead of time, giving Airich ample opportunity to sidestep. He needed to put this guy down for good, but he wasn't going to be able to focus on the main threat so long as his skinny friend was dancing around at the man's side.

The lanky fellow prepared to throw a right-handed punch at Airich's neck¹. Airich avoided it² and followed up with a left hook that sent the man reeling³. Airich didn't think he'd be back soon.

That left three opponents, if no one else joined in.
¹ Normal attack, Disadvantage, 1d6=5, success 
² Right arm block, Disadvantage, 1d6=5, success 
³ Left-hand attack, Disadvantage, 1d6=5, success 

[revanne]

Edwin watched open-mouthed as Airich shook off the blow to his head that surely should have brained him, and turned to deal with the yard of pump water who was dancing round in a way that he clearly thought made him look threatening.

A beauty of a left hook from Airich and the man was reeling back; the last Edwin saw of him he was headed for the tavern door. Edwin had no time to ponder where Airich learnt his fighting skills but the image of his grace and ease of movement lodged itself in Edwin's thoughts for another time. For now there was the big bruiser coming in again for the attack on Airich. Edwin yanked off his scholar's open gown and gathered it over his fists, then placing fists and gown over his bent head he charged head first into the man's belly, knocking him flying into the edge of a trestle table where he lay with the fight knocked out of him for the moment at least. ((advantage roll brawler attack I forgot to make a note of the dice roll but I know it was a success)).

He straightened, feeling pleased with himself. Right, who was next? There was a hell of a noise going on, with half those standing round the bar cheering and yelling. Saints above, did they mean to bring the town watch down on them? At least it looked as though the onlookers were having too good a time to risk getting hurt by joining in, so that left just two. He and Airich had this covered.

Suddenly one of their opponents bent to the side and plucked up something from off one of the benches. God no! It was his satchel, with his precious parchments and pens, the tools he needed for his studies, and the means of  earning himself a few extra coins as a copyist. Christ have mercy! The man was heaving it towards the fire, where the oil which rendered it waterproof would surely catch.

Edwin lurched towards him, only to trip over the prone body of the man he had felled. He righted himself but it was too late. ((Standard defensive roll 3+1 = 4 failure)).

[Jerusha]

"Fat lot of help you are!"  Elspeth snarled at Bede.  She stood and reached to help her friend up,

[Laurna]

Amy was grateful as Miss Elspeth stepped between her and Bede's backside; it was her assistance that got Amy back on her feet. She would have laughed at her own clumsiness at falling down if she hadn't shockingly got this odd sense that fire was kicking up where it should not have been. ((Does Amy Perceive the leather bag catching fire 3d6 =6, 3,& 1, Success)) Desperate, she looked over Elspeth's shoulder toward the welcoming hearth. There was nothing welcoming about it now! There at the edge of the burning logs lay a large leather satchel, its straps already smoking and turning black in the midst of the flames. A log in the fire dropped down an inch spreading sparks over the old ashes. The upper corner of the bag nestled into the flames as the log fell. The leather must have been oiled to protect the contents from rain and weather, it only took a moment for that corner to flare with a new greenish glow.  There were too many people standing between Amy and the hearth; none of them seemed remotely aware of the danger. Yelling with a sharp call, while wildly pointing at the hearth, she was desperate to get Bede's attention who was closest to it. ((can Amy call Bede 2d6=3, 4  Failure)). It was Elspeth standing at Bede's back who came to awareness at Amy's alarm. She saw the direction that her friend was pointing and her eyes flashed their concern. 

[Jerusha]

Elspeth heard Amy's yell and her gaze followed her friend's pointing hand.  Amy was pointing at a satchel which had started burning in the fire.  Who would be so base as to throw someone else's possession into the fire with such spite?  Fight or no fight, that was not right! ((Elspeth grabs the satchel from the hearth. 2d6=6 & 2  Success))  Elspeth dashed forward and grabbed the satchel at the bottom, narrowly escaping scorching her fingers. She pulled it from the flames upside down, and blessed the clasp for holding firm.  She batted at the flames that had caught on the straps with her free hand and ended the threat of engulfment.  Movement behind her caught her attention.  One of the men was barrelling toward her, arm drawn back ready to throw a punch. The nerve!  One of the few stools in the tavern was within reach, and Elspeth shoved it hard to intercept the charging man. ((Elspeth tries to intervene 1d6 = 4; failure.  Figures.)) The stool connected but the man kicked it aside.  "Bloody hell," she said.  "Not hard enough."

[Marc_du_Temple]

((Bede attacks the guy charging Elspeth. 1d6 = 3))  "Kheldourian bastard!" the archer snarled in a foreign accent. Bede was on his feet and throwing his arms wide to protect Elspeth from the charging brute. The attempt was technically effective if inelegant, for the local's attention was steered away from his client. ((Enemy reacts to Bede 1d6 = 5)) With pinpoint eyes the man redirected his wrath, slashing through the musty air like a furious bear and sneering "And where would you be from, vagrant?"

((Bede-block! 2d6 2 + 5 = 7)) Bede had little talent for offensive swinging and could not hide it, but there was much else to hide behind the fortification of sinewy arms. He'd have to apologize later for getting the shirt warped. "Somewhere they'd bury your ugly hide for good fortune." Not that he had seen such a thing, but if it scared the outlanders, it may as well be true.