The Great Quest

*When exactly did that take place? The next day, or earlier in the same one. It's night where Mal and the others are.*

"Requesting an audience will probably work, if we can get past his counciler, Grima. I've heard from many people the influence he is gaining over the king, and even to a degree over their everyday affairs."

"Do any of your magical properties include mind controlling?" Slythre asked Mal. "Fighting our way in would be totally counter productive, and only succeed in landing us in prison as well."

There was a silence, and then Slythre looked up at the others with a curious expression on her face. "Do you think that that would work?"

"What?"

"Perhaps as a last resort, we could brawl or something to get us captured and put into there. Even stripped of our weapons, we could probably escape from their control and rescue the others as well. Getting past the outer guards would be nearly suicide, but this way we'd be brought past them. We'd need a way out once we get in, or perhaps some distraction to keep the guards from getting us out."

At the look on their faces, she quickly raised her hands to forstall immediate arguments. "Don't worry, this is only as a last resort. If we cannot contact the king or find any other way, I think this should certainly be a possibility."

"It might work," Gungar said slowly. "But I agree, only as a last resort. Tomorrow we should contact the king."

Slythre stood up. "If there isn't anything else to discuss now, I'm quite tired after the journey . . ."

"Yes, we've done the best planning we can at this point," Faradin agreed. "Good-night, all."

Soon, they'd all gone to their different rooms. Night faded into morning, and they got up. Their meeting with the king awaited. If they could only get there.