After Romain discretely called for two of his servants to fetch a new chair for Technus, whispering to them that he was unsure if the ones the rest of the party had in their spots could support the weight of his massive half-metal frame, everyone took their seats. Technus was given an old and ornate throne of carved wood with a broad seat and high back. Upon sitting down, the cleric immediately ran a finger along one of the arms, then lifted the tip to in front of his mechanical eye, which rapidly clicked as it zoomed in.

"Dust," Technus stated bluntly.

Romain nodded from the head of the table. "Apologies, but we haven't brought that chair out for a while," he said. "It was my grandmother's."

Technus lifted both his eyes, still reflecting no sympathy or gratitude for Romain giving up such a personal possession for him to use. The only reply he gave was "It shall suffice" in his cold, crackling dirge of a voice.

Logan's fist was clenching on the table, but he kept his cool as he tried to tell himself that bringing Technus to the table was necessary, even if he'd be as grating as a blade scraping across a china plate.

Speaking of which, Romain's servants suddenly returned, sweeping into the room with plates of food carried on each arm. Their starter was a creamy fish soup garnished with various herbs and spices, followed by a main course of roast goose with potatoes and a variety of vegetables; carrots, courgettes, squash and a few others Logan couldn't name. Wines both white and red were served, poured into silver-plated goblets that were chased with intricate patterns, the surfaces now blurred and worn with age and use.

The food was more plain than fanciful, for which Logan was deeply grateful – after having had to attend so many banquets and such in his youth, he feared their dinner would consist of those pretentious and pompous meals that were a half-inch pile of an unnameable green something in the middle of a massive empty platter. So the fact they got portions that were worth a damn was a huge relief!

As such, he ate well, the excitement of today's battle bringing forth a nagging hunger within him. He sat to Romain's right, with Stalk and Technus further down the table on his side. Meanwhile, across from them, Ren pushed his food about his plate with knife and fork, Arabella sat upright and straight as a lance against the chair as she delicately cut her food into smaller portions, and then flushed with embarrassment when Finnan shoved the entire leg of a goose into his wide mouth and seemed to suck every last scrap of meat off the bone in one bite.

At the sight of this, Romain only laughed, to which Logan and Stalk both chuckled as well. The kenku then told their host "I hope you made extra, Romain! The little man's got a big appetite!"

"Clearly!" Romain replied. "Fear not – there's plenty more where this came from! After all, we haven't even reached the cheese course yet!"

That made Ren turn his head from where he sat in a rather hunched posture. "Cheese course?" the wizard asked, looking quizzical.

Romain met the wizard's gaze and said "Indeed! A cheese course is always served at a Milisevran feast! It's one of our traditions, as we make many different fine cheeses, or 'fromages' as we call them," he explained. "And just wait until you taste our desserts!"

Watching Romain converse, Logan couldn't help but smile. Right arm resting on the table with his goblet held in his fingers, the Galehaut remarked "You seem in a very jovial mood, Romain..."

"Oh, that's just me being myself!" Logan's fellow paladin declared. "Though I hope I'm not making you uneasy, mon ami," he quickly added.

Logan cocked his head slightly. "'Mon ami?'"

Romain gave him a warm smile "It means 'my friend.'"

Truth be told, that did make Logan slightly uneasy. Romain seemed to have a very... forward personality. He was undeniably brave, generous and honourable, but speaking as someone who was of a more reserved disposition, Logan found his fellow paladin's mannerisms to be rather 'out there'. Not disturbing or off-putting... just a bit much.

He imagined the expectations of sitting at a feast were more to blame, though. Whenever, he sat at one of these, he began to feel imprisoned. He wasn't a sloppy eater by any means – a knight need be courteous at all times, and he tried to live up to that example. But the fear of making a slip-up made him feel strangled and confined, his mind racing to remember the million rules of etiquette he had become all too familiar with while growing up...

Some bad memories began to worm their way out of the back of Logan's mind, and he winced slightly as he fought to keep them contained, hoping to shove them back where they belonged.

'That part of my life is over...' he thought to himself. 'She has no hold over me anymore...'

Meanwhile, across the table, Arabella was his polar opposite – while he had to consciously try his best to remember the finer points of etiquette, she effortless embodied them. She moved with an almost spectral grace, everything she did seeming so poised and perfect. She even made small talk look easy, casually conversing with Romain with a gentle, pleasant smile on her face.

He strained to listen to what her soft voice was saying over the sounds of Finnan's noisy eating, and as Arabella turned to gently chastise the halfling, Romain drew everyone's attention as he scanned the party over and exclaimed aloud:

"I must say, in all my years, I've yet to meet such an eclectic group as you six!" Romain said. "What was it that brought you all to Milisevre, may I ask?" His question was directed away from Technus, whose business he at least knew something of, and more towards the rest of the party.

Ren looked up from where he was nibbling at the bone of one of the goose's wings, almost like he was going to say something. But his posture sank almost as quickly as it had risen, leaving Arabella and the others to pick up the slack.

"Truthfully, Romain, it was more of a coincidence than anything else," their high elf cleric said. "We were all in the Cockatrice Inn, just a ways south of here. Have you heard of it?" she asked.

Romain nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! I've been there quite a few times! A fine place to stop and rest on a journey!"

Arabella's mouth twitched, looking as if she might have smiled at that if she wasn't about to discuss the more terrible aspect of how their group came together. "Well, that was where we first met. I just wish it had been under happier circumstances..."

"How so?" Romain asked as he raised his eyebrows.

"There was a gnoll pack." Stalk cut in. "They were lurking outside the inn and sprang an attack on us."

Hearing the kenku's words made Romain bolt to his feet there and then. "Gnolls?!" he asked. As he spoke, his gaze flew to Logan, who continued on from where Stalk finished.

"Aye. We fought them off, even cut down their pack lord myself, but some of them got away." The Galehaut explained. "We feared the worst – that there might be more of them lurking in the hills – and came here on the behalf of Elsa, the Cockatrice's innkeep, in search of help."

Everyone at the table except Technus nodded, with Romain doing so in a fervent, determined manner. "I have only thirty men as my personal garrison – sadly, my lands are not the most expansive. But with the chimera gone, I've no reason to keep them here any longer! I'll order them sent to the Cockatrice at first light tomorrow! On my honour" he declared, fist on his chest.

"Thank you, Romain..." Arabella said, smiling gently as she looked up at him, admiration gleaming in her turquoise eyes. And Logan felt the same way.

It was uplifting to see a knight who actually kept to his vows and defended those in need...

However, Technus then reminded everyone of his sobering, insufferable presence. "Your paladin vows also require that you go yourself, Romain." The point was a valid one, but the tone in which the cyborg spoke made it grating to listen to.

Romain, however, remained cool and back-channelled Technus' own words to say. "Should you not go too, Brother Technus? Your goddess is one of civilization, is she not? And nothing embodies chaos and destruction more than gnolls..."

"I protect the ideals of civilization and innovation – far more important than a crumbling building with a few fleshlings inside," the cyborg retorted. "And my own business remains more pressing even than that."

Logan hadn't drunk much, but it certainly didn't help his patience. Pushing himself to his feet, standing taller than Romain and seeming to loom over the table, he fixed Technus with a burning glare of molten gold and asked "What is this business, Technus? No more hiding – tell us why you're here. I won't ask again."

There was no reticence in Technus' reply – only a palpable sense of supremacy as he pushed his metal feet to the floor and rose to his full height, standing taller than Logan and looming over the rest of the room. Scanning Romain and the others with his mismatched eyes, even Finnan went quiet as the Tech-Cleric intoned.

"I am on a sacred mission for my faith – the Order of the Turning Cog. We are the most devout followers of Erathis and her creed of civilization and innovation, to the point where we civilize our own bodies with the steel, bronze and all the other gifts She gave us." As he spoke, he propped up his metal hand on the table and clenched his segmented fingers – at which point Logan suddenly realized that the Tech-Cleric's arms looked noticeably different than they had upon arriving at the castle, the armour plates stripped off to reveal the gears, pistons and other mechanical works beneath, all clicking and whirring with each tiny move he made.

Technus paused for a moment mid-speech, as if pensive about what he was going to say next. "Among my Order's most sacred relics is the Lectio Mechanicus. Penned by Brother Korish, the first Tech-Cleric, it is a tome that contains not only the doctrines and teachings of our faith, but also prophecies gleamed from the visions of our Cyberseers, who watch tirelessly for auguries and omens of the future," he told them. "The most revered of these prophecies is that of the Age of Iron - a time when the Order of the Turning Cog illuminate all of Abeir-Toril to the wisdom of Erathis, and all shall at last know the embrace of the Lady of Civilization... or perish as a new world is born."

A shiver seemed to go through the room as he said that, as if summer had suddenly ended and the chill of autumn had flooded in to take its place.

"The first sign shall appear in the heavens – an emerald comet, descending from the reaches of Realmspace. Death shall fall upon the Mortal World, and order and chaos shall collide in the great battle of fate. And so must the Age of Iron rise, lest all fall into shadow and darkness."

His words were as grandiose as they were terrifying, and as he intoned them, he reached up to his forehead under his raised hood, and made a sign of blessing over where the half-moon cog symbol of Erathis has been branded into his very flesh!

"A few weeks past, the Cyberseers detected what has potential to be the first omen of this prophecy – an emerald comet, pulsing with magic. It has landed within the bounds of Milisevre, and my order has sent me to locate it, examine it, and see what significance it holds. Whether it holds the key to holy salvation or not is my sworn to duty to discover..."

A grim silence reigned over the room, with not a peep from anyone. Logan felt his fists tighten, and across the table, Arabella shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze directed away from Technus.

The first to break the silence was Romain, who simply said "Most... interesting." And then, surprisingly, it was Ren who spoke up.

"This 'Age of Iron', Technus... does it mean that your faith will want all of us to become... like you?" he asked, his voice soft and hesitant, as if he was scared to ask and also feared the answer he was about to receive.

Technus turned his head to the wizard and replied with "Affirmative" before he lifted his right arm and flexed his fingers, the metal workings underneath shifting in a thousand different ways as he did so. "The flesh is weak, but steel, stone, iron and bronze are eternal. The works of civilization have stood for thousands of years after the mortals who first crafted them have rotted into dust. All peoples of Toril must learn this... or they are doomed."

The tension and dread in the room was so thick you could cut it. And Stalk's sharp wit was the perfect knife.

"Can't say I'm a fan, big guy," the kenku said as he scooped a slice of cheddar into his beak. "Seems to me like your 'Order' lot just want to conquer the world..."

Technus' gaze snapped to look at Stalk, a hissing snort filling the air as the cyborg said with contempt. "What do you know of gods, kenku?"

Whether he knew it or not, those words clearly struck a nerve – Logan noticed Stalk's right hand slip down to his side and finger the hilt of one of his knives. "More than you know, you rusty bastard."

"Actually, Stalk, I wanted to ask something about that..." Ren said, looking right at Stalk with an expression other than reticent nervousness.

Stalk turned his head and casually replied "Fire away, mate. What's up?"

Ren stammered a little before he found his tongue again. "Well, with kenku mimicry... I always thought your kind could only talk in what they'd heard from others..."

What the wizard said hadn't occurred to Logan before, but when he heard it, something in his brain suddenly clicked into place. He'd heard mention of the kenku's mimicry too, and had now seen it firsthand upon meeting Stalk...

... but in that moment, he could swear he recalled reading in a history book that kenku had to mimic others because their own original thoughts had been taken away somehow.

Both he and Ren fixed Stalk with a gaze then, and Logan swore he saw the kenku freeze like a startled deer for a split-second before he then tried to play it cool.

"Well, I guess I'm the exception that proves the rule, then..." he replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from his food.

This caught Arabella's attention, and she looked across the table to where Stalk was sitting. "Stalk... pardon me for being direct, but you can tell us if you want to. Technus just revealed his own secrets, and we're all friends here."

Stalk looked back at her. "Sorry to break this to you, love, but I don't really want to," he replied, almost as blunt as Technus. "My-" he suddenly cut himself off and gulped before changing what he was going to say. "I have my own secrets, and I'd prefer they stay just that."

Romain got a look of concern on his face. "Is it a matter of life and death that you keep it to yourself?"

Stalk's clawed fingers fidgeted as he returned Romain's gaze and replied. "Death, certainly."

Concern began to grow inside Logan. He'd only known Stalk for two days, but there were a lot of things about the kenku that were making him uneasy, all in different ways. The way Stalk spoke of his own secrets made him worried and even rather sympathetic – after all, everyone had things they wanted to keep secret. But the way that Stalk was so evasive, and the nature of the powers that he'd displayed over these past two days were slightly alarming. The way he seemed to control the blood of other living creatures or drew power from strange potions and self-harm.

There was also the way Logan remembered the birdman behaving around the dead bodies when he and Stalk were burying them the Cockatrice – the kenku was jumpy and paranoid, as if he feared the corpses were going to come back to life at any second...

"Stalk, if you're going to work with us, we're going to need to hear the whole story." Logan told him. "You ensorcelled a gnoll's bleeding wounds to freeze it in place and enchanted your dagger by cutting your own arm open. I've never seen any magic like that, and as a paladin, that concerns me."

He didn't intend for that to sound like a threat, but as the words left his lips, they did. And Stalk responded by purposely avoided his gaze as he said "So? You and Romain can do the same."

"Yes. But by praying to the Platinum Dragon; not by shedding our own blood," Logan retorted directly.

It was then that Finnan stopped eating and, when Stalk looked away from Logan, the kenku ended up looking right at the halfling.

"Please, Stalk..." Finnan pleaded, eyes wide as, even with his beard, he suddenly seemed to take on the countenance of a tiny child.

At Logan's side, Stalk's beak twitched, and after gesticulating a little in disbelief, the kenku eventually threw up his hands and exclaimed "Alright, I'll tell you, ya fucking puppy-eyed druid!"

This made Finnan beam, and as Logan sat back down and Arabella gave her druid friend a warm, proud smile, Stalk reluctantly regaled them with his tale...

"Y'see, my kind used to be the servants of a goddess too – the Raven Queen, a death goddess from the Shadowfell, the plane of darkness. But apparently, some of us betrayed her or something, and so she decided the most rational response was to curse our kind for all eternity, taking away our ability to fly, and to talk and think of our own will. We could only ever copy the works of others, and as the cherry on the top, she banished us from her realm to the Material Plane, never to return."

Arabella held a hand to her mouth as she gasped "That's horrible!"

Stalk looked at her. "That's gods, cleric," he replied. "But that's the sad story of us kenkus. None of us alive know what we did wrong, but we're damned for it either way." He paused for a quaff of wine. "But there's still hope. My flock, the Seekers of Flight – we've been trying to work our way around the curse using hemocraft... blood magic," he explained. "We call our warriors 'bloodhunters', and use a mixture of this new magic and alchemy to create mutagenic potions that alter our bodies to circumvent the curse's effects. That's why I can talk normally without mimicking others."

Ren's eyes widened, and he leaned forward a little on the table. "That's... amazing!" he said.

Logan also nodded. "Indeed. That's certainly something I've never come across before."

Stalk looked his way as he said "Like I said, new kind of magic. Great wizard called Mattheus Mercer comes up with it hundreds of years ago... and then one day, before he could publish his findings, all his work was stolen." The kenku seemed to take a perverse pride in saying that, beak coiling into a wily smirk as his eyes gleamed cheerfully.

Logan felt something stir inside him as he heard about this theft, but kept it under wraps – now was not the place to start an argument. "That doesn't strike me as something to gloat about, Stalk..." he managed to say.

"... and you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs, mate," Stalk replied, back-channelling Logan's words like a master of wordplay. "My family... we're trying to undo a punishment done to our kind that we had nothing to do with. Everyone who committed whatever crime pissed Her off has been dead and buried for fuck knows how long..." He then narrowed one eye as he stared up at the human paladin and said "If knights're supposed to liberate the oppressed an' all that, you might wanna be more on board with helping us."

In that moment, Logan felt internally torn. Knights were supposed to enact justice and free those in need, but they were also supposed to obey the gods. And if the Raven Queen, whom he knew as one of the deities of death from the Shadowfell, had seen fit to curse an entire race... then the kenku must have done something utterly abhorrent.

Seeming keen to change the topic, Stalk then turned to Romain and said "Alright, enough questions about me. I want what I asked about outside!" Fixing the Milisevran with his orange eyes, the bloodhunter repeated his query. "Why were you going after this chimera alone? Cause if you wanted to die, there are less painful ways to do it."

Logan winced at Stalk's dark joke, but nonetheless turned to his fellow paladin and waited for an answer.

There was a brief pause as he Romain from his seat, hands resting on the table and blonde hair falling to his shoulders as he looked at the party members before him. "Well, I suppose there's no point in hiding it any longer..." he said. "But before I explain anything else, I have a tale to tell you, friends... the tale of the Knights of the Platinum Dragon."