"It's possible that there would be separate subteams and contact could be minimal to none; I do not know Ignaberta or his level of suspicion about her or his level of willingness to arrest peripheral accessories. If Voyager Ramien or anyone he'd care to send would like to meet a representative of Ser Tirabade's at," the landmark! "to discuss details, I can relay this to her; she does not seem to have the slightest interest in apprehending any of you or yours and would not send anyone who'd take advantage of the rendezvous."

"Ramien!! Can you come over here a second?"

 Ramien says something quietly to the people he's talking to and approaches Blai and his party. He inclines his head slightly. 

"This guy says there's some kind of mission coming up to retake the Gray Garrison, except Hulrun's an asshole so he'll arrest us if we try to help. If you want to talk to Irabeth or one of her guys about the details in case she can put you in a separate group or something, you can meet her by" the landmark. "Also she wants to coordinate Sendings, I assume you can do that at the same time."

 Ramien nods. "I would be willing to meet her or one of her delegates there at noon, if that works for her." He looks away for a moment, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "I don't know what your plans are for the Garrison, but you should be warned that prior to Deskari's attack, several of us received messages in our dreams warning us of a corruption in the Wardstone."

"Is this related to the spectral butterflies outside or a separate communication?"

"We think it's related. As far as we can tell, it's the same message, and the same speaker, but—" He grimaces. "When Hulrun refused to listen to our warnings, a few of the adepts decided to do their best to fix the problem themselves. He caught them and arrested them before they could finish, and that's when the butterflies started to appear."

Scribble scribble. "Do you often receive such communications?"

"The dreams, or the butterflies? Desna often communicates with her faithful through dreams, but this is the first time I've seen anything like the butterflies."

"The butterflies did not to my hearing say anything about directly interacting with the Wardstone, just preventing the demons from taking it - I ask only to have a more complete picture, I'm not conducting an investigation about this, but what was the intended procedure that involved accessing it?"

"—The fact that the Wardstone had been corrupted was more obvious in the original dream, some visual detail was lost when it was brought into the waking world. It... did not include specific instructions, but I think the adepts were hoping that it would be easier to determine how to cleanse it if they could examine it up close."

Ramien does not actually think their plan was very good — there's a reason he wasn't with the group that tried it! — but that doesn't mean they should die for it.

"But they did break in and try to do magic to it?"

Sigh. "I wasn't there, I can't speak for what happened." (They totally did.)

That was ill advised but Hulrun is already representing that position so strongly in everyone's minds that Blai doesn't need to if nobody asks him. "That is not inconsistent with the Storyteller's remarks."

Yes, it's almost as if they had multiple independent people attempting to warn Hulrun about the problem and he dismissed all of them. Ramien is not going to say that out loud but he's saying it a little bit with his face.

"Was there anything else you were hoping to speak about, Select — ah, I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?"

Someone should have gone to Irabeth instead because she's great. "Artigas, Blai Artigas. I'll let Ser Tirabade know to dispatch someone for a noon meeting and don't have other business here, thank you for receiving us."

Something in Ramien's expression shifts, going from thinly-veiled anger at Hulrun to — concern? Sympathy?

"I'm glad you got out," he says softly.

(There's no trace in his voice of anger, or confusion, or suspicion, or any of the other emotions one might expect to hear if Ramien had recognized his name in particular.)

"...Ramien, my shining star, what could possibly be so important about his name that you feel the need to speak in tongues?"

"Mind your own business. If he wanted you to know, he wouldn't be doing it."

"It's... actually much more complicated than you may have derived, Voyager, but may be sensitive." Does he need to change his name. What in the world else would he be called. He has suddenly forgotten all of the other names in the world. He could introduce himself as Aspex Grec which has slightly more of the exact same set of problems??

He nods. "I won't pry if you would rather I didn't."

"Thank you." He really needs to figure out what to do about that whole thing but there keep being more immediate priorities. And now they should leave? And head back for lunch and telling Irabeth in enough time to send someone for a noon meeting?

Woljif catches up with the group on their way back out the door. They said they can help out at the Gray Garrison if it's not going to get them in trouble with Sister Kerismei. They're good with fiddly things like traps.

Giant centipedes! Regular-sized dretches! Creepy guy in robes and a mask! (This one says "I am the answer, but what is the question?" before walking off; Seelah reports that he doesn't ping as Evil.)

And here's the Defender's Heart.

Irabeth is dressing down a crusader, looking angrier than Blai's ever seen her.

Is that... the same creepy guy... or are there several of those.

.......can he stand near enough to hear how you do this when you are not an Asmodean.

It's the same outfit — hooded black robes with a white mask — but this one is shorter and more slender.

"...suppose you would care to explain what you were thinking."

 "He started it, Commander."

"...From the inside of a cell."

 "He was — smiling, like he was proud of what he'd done—"

Irabeth doesn't say anything to that, just keeps staring at him. 

 "...and so I figured I could wipe that stupid grin off his face. I didn't think it would be a big deal."

"Had you somehow forgotten the Eagle Watch's standards for the treatment of prisoners, or did you decide they were unimportant?"

 "...I figured you had to make them really strict if you didn't want guys going after the pretty ones. I didn't think you really meant every little detail."

"I see. Is there something else I could have said to make it clear that I expected you to follow the standards I specifically ordered you to follow?"

 "No sir."

"Do you understand now why this is a 'big deal'?"

 "Because you were counting on my smites?"

"That is one reason, yes. It is not the only reason." She pauses. "If we want people to be willing to surrender to our custody, or for that matter to turn over other people they care about to our custody, they need to trust that we will actually abide by the standards of treatment we've committed to. The Goddess chose you as her paladin because she thought you could be trusted with that responsibility. I chose you to supervise the prisoner because I thought you could be trusted with that responsibility. As you may have surmised when the Goddess revoked her blessings, clearly we were mistaken."

 The crusader looks down at his hands. "I understand, sir."

"Considering the circumstances, I am authorizing a stay of the bulk of your punishment for the next few days. However, I am adjusting your responsibilities in light of your demonstrated inability to follow simple orders. Report to Ser Dathe in the yard. And tell the other two to speak with me in" (she glances at Blai) "half an hour."

 The crusader scampers off.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Select. Report?"