The sorcerer let the spectral bridge drop the moment we were all across. The mob that had just managed to get up to the roof of the building we’d just been on was none too happy about that, of course. Fortunately, none of us really cared that much about the psychotic group’s feelings.

Up close, I could see that both the warrior we’d seen at first and the sorcerer were both sporting white hair and had the look of someone who was well past their adventuring years, to say the least. They certainly both looked the part of elves who had been retired. I doubt either had picked up their weapons in ages, save to clean them.

The sorcerer nodded to us as we arranged ourselves along the wall. “I am Nindrol of the Stonewall, as I said before. This is Silvyr Genrora, Mayor of Andor’s Hall.”

“What’s left of it,” the armor-clad elf grunted.

I nodded to them. “I am Melinda Rimedancer, Twice-born servant of Auril Frostmaiden. With me are my companions Ebonheart, Siora and Vestele Faydark, and Fartooth of the Mukblood Clan. And this is Zestari Zinlana of the Coronal Guard, escorting us by order of Crown Princess Findelye and High General Daephyra as we scout ahead of their forces.”

“The Crown Princess lives? We had heard she’d been killed by raiders out of Thedra, while she was on a pilgrimage to the outer reaches of Silverwood. We’d given up all hope of her return, save by the acts of the gods.”

I chuckled darkly at Nindrol’s surprise. “Yes, she is alive, and is more than a little upset with her sister. We found her in the ‘care’ of the Lord Mayor of Breledo, where she was bound as a slave. The Lord Mayor received her through his family, who were slavers in Thedra.”

The mayor looked grim. “Does she know about the former Queen? I know the rumor was that the two of them did not exactly see eye to eye, because of the vows the Princess took, but she wasn’t the type to just not come home, if she heard that her mother was dead. Which is why most of us believed she was dead, in the first place. No way she wouldn’t have returned for the funeral.”

I sighed. “Yes, we found out about that from the High General. To say that he was entirely convinced of her story before would be untrue. However, her story, combined with what we’ve learned here at Andor’s Hall so far, should be enough to persuade him.”

“Learned much from the mob, then?”

I laughed. “Only that we should avoid them, and that flying too close will throw you down out of the sky. That was a rather rude awakening, I assure you.”

A breath, and then I pushed on. “But we investigated one of the farmhouses at the edge of town. There was a distinct aura of magic and evil upon the food on the table, and the fields outside. Then, when we made it to the shrine, which was still defended, we learned more about the way things played out.”

Nindrol perked up at that. “Oh, the shrine stands? Was the priest alone? Were there any survivors from the rest of the town?”

“You’ll be happy to know that the priest saved those he could, mainly the children. I’m afraid there will be many orphans when this is done, but those children, at least, aren’t becoming prey for the mob. The shrine was full to the brim, but I don’t doubt some were turned away, when the mob got too close, and they had to activate the defenses.”

Nindrol sighed. “Damn. I was hoping for better news, but that’s still more than we knew before. The shrine’s defenses are mostly passive in nature, so they would have needed to activate them before the mobs actually came into view. This whole thing is a mess.”

The Mayor spat. “Well, no one went and though the Queen would go and spread some kind of plague on her own people.”

“Silvyr, we don’t know that’s what happened.”

“Bah, it is, and you know it! The farms first affected? They all belonged to her! The families had all sold the land years back, when the last war with Thedra happened, and most of their people got drafted to the army. The bitch has owned most of the town, ever since then.”

Nindrol tried to interject, but the Mayor continued on. “And before you try and talk to me about proof, one of the farmers was more quick-witted than the Queen’s agents gave him credit for, and kept the orders on file with Town Hall. When people started getting ‘sick’, he told me, and I made sure that the records were kept safe, just in case. She supplied the concoction that started all this, and made the farmers use it!”

I interjected. “Actually, if we could see those records, that would be great. It would go a long way towards clearing up any ill feelings about going and killing the queen.”

The elves gaped at me, and I laughed. “Oh, come on. It isn’t like anyone was under any illusions that this was going to end any other way than with a fight between the Queen and her sister. The only question would be how many people get wrapped up in all of this along the way?”

Zinlana shook her head. “That as it may be, Rimedancer, you are far more abrupt in your speech than others might be. Regicide is not something to discuss idly, or openly. Even if I believe that it is, indeed, the solution that needs to happen, for the good of Silverwood and its people.”

Nindrol sighed, and said, “Yes, and there’s the fact that there are those still alive in the town who would be honor bound to challenge you, if they heard such things. I am retired, and Silvyr, here, gave up his commission to become the mayor and leader of the local militia. But that won’t hold true for everyone, here.”

I grinned. “Well, they are welcome to try their luck, but I doubt they’ll enjoy the experience much.” I took a breath, and then said, “But anyways, those records could show how much of the tainted grain has been produced and shipped out, and to where.”

The mayor cursed. “Damn it all! Most of the grain goes to the capitol! If this kind of outbreak has happened there, the death toll will be…”

Nindrol nodded, grimly. “The entire city could fall. And what would happen then?” He shook his head. “What reason would the Queen have to do this?”

Vestele stepped forward. “The grain is just the next step. There are simpler ways of getting rid of the competition, if you’re wanting to go to the front of the line when it comes to inheritances, than using a powerful magical item to enslave the crown princess and then ship her off to foreign lands. Sure, I don’t doubt that getting rid of the heir to the throne was a part of it, but there has to be more, for her to have gone through that much trouble.”

Siora nodded. “And, if we accept that the former queen’s ‘accident’ was anything but, then we have to look at who wins or loses through the queen’s death. The answer is obviously the new heir, who steps in and takes the throne. And, if she can make the supposed accident happen, then that means she either is a trained assassin, or she has corrupted the loyalties of those around her.”

Vestele continued on from where her sister left off. “Betrayals and corruption from within are common tactics of those who follow certain deities. However, the route the betrayal takes can give you some idea of who is behind the plot. Malcanthet, Demon Queen of the Succubi, for instance, prefers temptation to betrayal, coaxing people to their downfall rather than sinking a dagger in their back. And the Mistress of Shendilavri would never approve of something so grotesque as what those elves have become.”

Nindrol nodded once, obviously catching their train of thought. “Any of the war gods would be out, as well, since there is little battle to be gained from these mobs. Even the god of slaughter is not the type to do this.”

“Exactly,” Siora chimed in. “And even Lolth, patron of the Drow, would not encourage plots so… unseemly. Orcus, Demon Prince of Undeath, would be outraged that the plague leaves people still alive, rather than turning them into the undead. The list goes on and on.”

Vestele spoke again. “Which brings us to one power that revels in betrayal, who could countenance this kind of attack. That would be Graz’zt, Demon Prince of Lies. While he does have some connection to physical perfection and seduction, that is more as an issue of vanity and power, rather than his actual focus. However, the betrayal of a sister enslaving her sister, consigning her to a fate that goes directly against several vows she’s taken? The betrayal of a daughter arranging the death of her mother, and stealing her throne? The betrayal of a queen murdering her people? All of these serve to glorify him, and bring him power.”

“You are accusing the Queen of demon worship?” The Mayor’s tone was shocked. Despite his laying the blame for the current situation on the Queen, this was an accusation to make lightly!

Vestele, however, was undaunted. “Either her, or someone in her inner circle, almost certainly. In all likelihood, she has corrupted most of those who live in the castle, or, at least, charmed them or manipulated them to the point that they can’t see up from down without her telling them which way it is.”

Nindrol growled. “Then, let us get to the bottom of this. Silvyr, lead the way to the House of Records.”

The mayor just nodded, and led the way down a ladder that had been placed to allow access to the makeshift ramparts. “Might as well. Only twelve of the militia managed to make it into this pocket before the mob got here, but we’ve seen that the mob cannot break through the stone wall so easily. I’ll let one of the others know, but it isn’t like my presence on the wall will be crucial, anytime soon.”

“How many made it to this enclave?” Fartooth chirped.

“Too few. Too few, indeed. Just over three hundred. That would be barely one-tenth the population of Andor’s Hall before this trouble started. And these eight hundred would have been dead long before now, if not for the fact that most of those that remain are former soldiers or adventurers, who still have some of their old kit. Add in a couple druids who were just passing through, and the food and water situation is such that people aren’t starving, but any mishap and they will be.”

I nodded. “Still, for so many to have survived, I must admit that I’m surprised. The nature of the mob’s infection is a horrid thing.”

Ignoring the looks of beleaguered townsfolk, we quickly made our way to the House of Records. There were only ten buildings in the enclave, after all, and the House was the only one not occupied by at least two dozen people. With all the records taking up room, only five people had placed their makeshift bedrolls here, though they weren’t here at the moment.

The mayor quickly moved to one shelf, where a box more recent than the rest was sitting. “This is the correspondence for the most recent harvest, including the orders to use the Queen’s alchemical solution on the crops, and where the grain is to ship to.”

I nodded. “All right, let’s get to work. The General should be on his way to help, but they’ll be a few days away. Probably want to figure out what we need to do until they get here. Oh, and don’t worry when you see a pirate ship circling in the sky. That is our ride, but they’ll keep out of reach of the ground, at least while the mob is around.”

The mayor just shook his head. “I’ll let the rest of my militia know.”