Found:
3 Silver death masks.
So, that makes eight. There's supposed to be eleven. I can only assume that Emmett took the missing three, believing he'd be able to return for the rest. Or someone else did. Those threatening Haritha and her brother-in-law can't be responsible or else they'd have taken the lot. However they've come to be split up, the fact remains that three are gone and Emmett is still missing.
With that in mind, I took a ride down to the Barandalf to see what I could find out. There is a camp of treasure hunters within some ruins there; not a particularly pleasant bunch, but when are they ever? They were less than enthused to see someone of my hue walk so boldly into their hidey hole. Weapons were drawn, much posturing and threatening was done. Nothing new or unexpected. They knew my name, though. It was enough to give them pause. Attention plied upon the right men, a little flirting, a few embellished anecdotes and they were all too happy to tell me what they knew.
Emmett was here a little under a year ago. He came looking for help, for protection, crying that the red-cloaks were out to get him. The leader here agreed to help him for a price, but he never got his money and Emmett never got that help. The red-cloaks were hot on his trail. What came next was more of a cull than a battle, so they said, and Emmett fled. No one knows where. No one has heard from him since.
So, either he has made it out of Evendim, he lies dead and overlooked somewhere in this land, or they found him.
That last is a worrying prospect.
I would have liked to avoid it, but with no other leads, I may have no choice but to go to Annuminas. It is the only lead left to me.
It's going to take some planning though. That is, if I can even think of a way to do this.
Sure, my fluency in two languages belonging to their allies will aid me in a ruse, as will my skin and the garments I brought just in case. But will that be enough? By all accounts, this isn't just a small camp of men; it's a well-defended and highly populated stronghold of enemies. If my ploy fails me, I can't fight my way out alone but who could I possibly call upon?
The men of Ost Forod are of no use in this. Too many questions, too high a price, too little trust and too much rivalry.
Helegrandir has offered his help, all too eager to take on the Angmarim. But he is not subtle or, indeed, inconspicuous. If they see me coming with a Ranger in tow, my cover will be destroyed before I even make it to the sentries.
Taala and the Bloody Dawn are ill suited to this task as well. Even were that not the case, it would cost me far more to hire a company of mercenaries to clear my path than I will make from the reclamation of these masks. Financially and tactically inviable.
Rahvic is injured. Even were he in better physical health, I would be hesitant to involve him in this work. A life of hunting animals suits him. Men...? Not so much, I think, despite what he has told me of his past.
The only other confirmed killer I know now is Crow. But I barely know the man. Certainly not enough to call upon. Does he even offer his skills and interests for coin? I'm not entirely sure on that point. Besides, there's too many of them for him to just slaughter his way through. He is only one man, after all.
No. I need to be clever about this. Stealthy. Just sneaking in won't do me much good; in is always easier than out. I have to fool them, convince them that I'm an ally, that I can be trusted. As much as I might like to have someone to back me up in the event that something goes wrong, how would I manage that when any companion I may bring along may not be able to keep up the deception?
Do I trust too little?
Maybe.
But that storm threatened yester eve has arrived only now, preventing me from returning to my island for the time being. If I were one for superstitions, perhaps I might think it an omen. Instead, I find it more of a mild inconvenience.
I've time to think yet. Time to plan. I can't walk into this one with naught but a vague idea and a sense of adventure.
