Our story continues in the Orc Camp with the War Chief chasing Shadowsilver.
The War Chief’s spear soars past Shadowsilver and he yells in anger. She watches the spear pass with a comfortable distance, decides this War Chief ain’t so tough, and engages in melee with the nearby Eye of Gruumsh instead. Tholannan steps in and smashes the Eye of Gruumsh across the face with his Quickened Mace of the Rhoyne. He doesn’t use it much, but when he does, he makes it count. The orc’s eye patch flies off as he collapses in front of them. Tholannan raises up a single index finger to Shadow.
Ornogrim lands an arrow that sticks into the War Chief’s chainmail as Tinkey screams “StayPut, StayPut” circling above.
Qarzdaq fires off a few bolts that char the War Chief’s skin and armor.
The War Chief continues after Shadowsilver.
Another shot from Ornogrim thinly misses his allies and slams into the rocky wall beside them. Shadowsilver and Tholannan look at each other, then at Ornogrim. Ornogrim waves at them, “Sorry… Sorry…” He decides it’s time for his blades to slice this orc to pieces and runs towards the War Chief.
While Tholannan heals Shadowsilver, she and Ornogrim strike the War Chief in a flurry of blades. Ornogrim adds insult to injury by instructing Tinkey to shit on the Chief, which she does with extreme accuracy and prejudice while squawking “StayPut, StayPut.” This angers and infuriates the veteran orc who aims to strike Shadowsilver, but is defeated by a well-placed fire bolt from Qarzdaq.
Meanwhile, Qhortho singlehandedly battles three Ogres. This would be overwhelming to most, but not to a Raging and Reckless Qhortho. He kills one of them and brings another one to near death, before Shadowsilver steals his kill with an arrow to the Ogre’s head. Qhortho substantially hurts the final unarmed Ogre before the rest of the group can even make it over to him. As he’s getting close to dispatching the last one, the rain of attacks come from his allies. Qhortho yells, “This one’s MINE!!!” then takes him out with a single strike. Still raging and looking for another target, he glances around and notices an Orog inside the arena.
With the fallen Ogre behind him, he, and the other members of the Assembly, grow in their might and skill.
Qhortho charges the Orog as he climbs the inner wall of the arena. As Qhortho closes in, the Orog makes eye contact, then lunges upward, flailing his greatsword through a rope above the arena wall. The Orog falls as the momentum of his blade carries him down to earth. A loud, deep crash is heard as the 1-foot thick wooden arena door crashes down behind Qhortho.
A metal ratcheting sound echoes in the otherwise-quiet arena. Qhortho’s eye catches the portcullis in the back of the arena opening. The squeal of rusty steel scraping together resonates from the dark chamber beyond the portcullis. Two loud snorts are heard before a metallic beast rushes towards Qhortho with the loud clanking of metal on metal.
Qhortho would normally be surprised by these turn of events, but instead, he’s surprised that he’s not surprised, and re-enters a Rage as the beast clambers towards him.
The rest of the group runs towards the arena and climbs atop the surrounding deck.
As Qhortho battles the metallic beast, the others spread around the deck attacking the Orog and Gorgon.
After some back and forth, the Gorgon snorts out a green cloud towards Qhortho. Qhortho’s body begins to become rigid and he becomes Restrained.
A final shot from Ornogrim takes down the Orog as he attempts to flee into the portcullis.
ORNO: The Orog is down! Focus your efforts on whatever the fuck that thing is attacking Qhortho!
Tinkey continues his song of “StayPut, StayPut.”
Qhortho takes inspiration from his previous experiences and, despite being Restrained, he successfully staves off the effects of that green cloud.
Everyone is now firing at the Gorgon, Qarzdaq more literally than the others. Before too much longer, the Gorgon lets out another cloud of green smoke and Qhortho, again feels his body tightening up.
Qhortho staves this off like the champ he is and swiftly lays a beating upon the ghastly creature.
Shadowsilver, always ready with the one-up, shoots an arrow between two metal plates in its side and it collapses loudly in a pile of rusty metal plates.
Qhortho lets out the scream of a stallion.
ORNO: What the fuck was that??
SHADOW: I’d like to call him Gordon.
Tinkey lands on Ornogrim’s shoulder and promptly releases what is left of her white pasty excreta.
ORNO: Damnit Tinkey!
The eeriness of the quiet that befalls them soaks into their minds as the realization of victory begins to take hold, adrenaline still gushing through their veins. Each of them were moments away from death at various points over the past 30 minutes of all-out battle. Never before have any of them encountered such adversity against such great odds. They recognize that if it had not been for their diversity, they never would have succeeded. Now that it was over, it felt almost… anticlimactic… What do they do now?
As weariness begins to creep in, they remember collectively that they were here to do a job for Honeysuckle, the small village of farmers. They jump into scavenging mode to find what they can, so they can get back to their greater pursuits. The sooner they get out of here and back to the farmers, the sooner they can meet up with Tyrone and figure out what the hell is going on – and why he keeps eluding them!
Shadowsilver jumps down into the arena and dashes towards the portcullis opening. Upon seeing her start, Qarzdaq realizes his job is going to be keeping an eye on Shadowsilver. He climbs down into the arena. She enters nearly smacks into a wall as she enters the pitch black area under the archway. He is just behind her and stops with plenty of time thanks to his Darkvision.
While Qarzdaq and Shadowsilver are “hanging out” in the darkened alley beyond the portcullis, Tholannan, Ornogrim, and Qhortho leave the arena to begin their search for loot.
Shadowsilver feels around the wall and finds an opening that feels like a keyhole. Qarzdaq looks down and sees what she’s fumbling with. It looks almost like a plus sign with a thicker top vertical bar. Qarzdaq touches a piece of stone in the archway and bows his head. The rock begins to glow radiantly without producing heat.
SHADOW: Looks like there’s some kind of key for this thing that is probably around camp somewhere. I can’t seem to pick it like a normal lock.
QARZDAQ: Think it may be on Gordon?
SHADOW: Possibly. We can check on the way out to search the camp.
They search the pile of metal plates left by Gordon and, other than the strange fact that it’s warm, they find nothing of any interest – especially no key.
Tholannan walks around the arena deck and heads for the best looking shack, from where the War Chief entered the fray. He enters a mostly empty room and only sees a bedroll. It smells like orcs have spent quite a bit of time in here. He looks around and doesn’t find anything of value. He then leaves the shack and enters the next one to his right.
He enters the shack with low expectations. He is caught by surprise as his eyes gaze on piles of coins and gems. A few strange-looking potions are amongst the spoils. Two of them contain an orange liquid that seems to flicker and smoke fills the top of the flasks; one contains a translucent green liquid. He also sees a strange-looking robe with cloth patches of various shapes and colors covering it.
He picks up the robe and, upon closer inspection, realizes the patches depict objects. He inspects the robe closely and determines three areas look like they had patches at some time, but it appears they were removed at some point. The remaining patches are:
- Two patches depicting a dagger
- Two patches depicting a lit bullseye lantern
- Two patches depicting a steel mirror
- Two patches depicting a pole
- Two patches depicting a coil of rope
- Two patches depicting a sack
- Two patches depicting an iron doors
- A single patch depicting a riding horse with saddle bags
- A single patch depicting two mastiffs, side by side
Tholannan picks up one of the flasks of orange liquid. He pulls out the stopper and some of the smoke comes out. It smells just like the thick smoke from a campfire’s coals.
He then picks up the flask of green liquid and performs the sniff test. He scoffs a bit when he detects an odor with a distinctly sour smell. He caps that flask and begins sifting through the coins.
Ornogrim makes his way over to the dead War Chief and begins to remove the chainmail with bird shit. One of Ornogrim’s arrows is still lodged through a link and into the orc’s flesh. He dislodges it and removes the armor from the body.
ORNO: Fuckin Orcs… The world is better off without you filth.
He then checks for pocketses, finds none, then proceeds to urinate on the corpse. As he is about to walk away, he notices the War Chief’s greataxe and takes it for good measure.
Qhortho climbs out of the arena and approaches the closest shack to the arena. He opens the door and is confronted by a wall of stench from rotting food. A pile of salt is just inside the entrance with a small shovel sticking out. As he looks towards the back of the shack, he sees a few small cages. Two workbenches line each longitudinal wall, strewn with heavily salted meats. They look to be very rough cuts without uniformity.
As he explores the rear of the food shack, he sees small cages with children in them. It looks like only one of the three children are still breathing. He sees the cages are locked and looks around for a key. He notices one hanging on the wall and tries it with success. He rescues the small child that still clings to life and makes for some better air.
As he exits the foul-smelling shack, he yells out to the first person he sees, “Ornogrim, I think this one’s still alive!”
Ornogrim runs up and stuffs a few Goodberries in the child’s mouth. The child coughs slightly and appears to be stable at least.
ORNO: Ah, child you are safe and ok now.
Onrogrim feeds the child a few more Goodberries.
The child wakes up and begins to scream.
ORNO: Calm, calm, calm, you are safe now.
The child immediately stops screaming, but his eyes are wide with shock and is entirely quiet.
QHORTHO: We have rescued you. We will take you back to your village.
ORNO: Wrap him in a blanket and put him off to the side somewhere.
Qhortho looks around at the piles of corpses, then pushes the child into Ornogrim’s arms.
Hearing the child’s scream Qarzdaq and Shadowsilver look at each other than jog out to the middle of the arena. Hearing it quieting followed by the voices of Qhortho and Ornogrim, they realize whatever made that sound is now under control, and forget it quickly.
QARZDAQ: Be on the lookout for a strange-looking key!
SHADOW: It looks like a plus symbol with a thicker bar on one side!
Qarzdaq walks to the arena door and notices it is quite sturdy. It is still made of wood though… He sets it ablaze, steps back, acknowledging the Lord of Light’s work, bringing light to darkness, then climbs the arena wall.
Shadowsilver is unimpressed and climbs out of the arena via the closest wall, which happens to be directly opposite from where Qarzdaq exited. Whether this was intentionally meant to be sneaky is hard for even Shadowsilver to tell; it’s just instinct at this point to keep away from others when she has no idea what treasures lie behind the next door.
Tholannan, also hearing the child scream rushes out of the shack he is in, looking back to take note of the shack still burning – his next destination after a quick regroup.
Approaching Ornogrim and Qhortho, he sees Ornogrim is holding a small child, wide-eyed and clearly in shock. They discuss what Tholannan found and he mentions briefly that they should probably sell the gems at the next town and split the proceeds evenly.
Shadowsilver sneaks around the arena deck, following the same path Tholannan did, to enter the War Chief’s shack. Noticing it’s strangely empty, something doesn’t sit right with her. She begins investigating more closely along the back wall – the only wall that abuts against rock. She notices a small piece of the wall that looks just ever-so-slightly off from the rest and after a moment of inspection, is able to open it. A small cubby-hole lies behind it containing a small lock box.
She picks the lock and finds a number of gems and a strange-looking iron key. In the darkness, she can see it exudes an extremely faint blue glow. She takes everything from the box, locks it back up, replaces it in its original location, and closes up the opening so it looks untouched. She then leaves the shack and joins up to the group, except Qarzdaq who ventured off someplace closer to the front entrance of the camp.
Tholannan is in the process of examining the robe with the others by the light of the, now blazing, arena door when Shadowsilver walks up.
QHORTHO: I wonder why there are some patches missing.
THOL: I have no idea. It’s definitely mysterious. We should take a look at what’s inside the burning shack over there.
While Tholannan and Qhortho hustle over to the burning shack, Ornogrim takes the child to the War Chief’s shack. Shadowsilver looks around as everyone else vacates. She then calmly walks to the arena.
The burning shack begins collapsing as Qhortho and Tholannan get closer. A plume of ashy smoke bursts from a side and fizzles as it rises. Tholannan notices a well with a few buckets near the beacon and rushes over to it. He collects a pail of water and splashes it on the fire, which remains just as fierce. Qhortho follows suit. They continue in this way for some time before the shack can even be approached.
Tinkey still on his shoulder, Ornogrim enters the War Chief’s shack intentionally leaving the door open, and places the child down. He gives the young boy a warning about how his eyes are about to go white, but there is no cause for alarm. He is just going to be communicating with a friend and it requires some concentration. He then takes a seat and moments later his eyes roll back and go white. They remain wide open, staring past the child, who retreats closer and closer to the corner with nowhere else to go. Tinkey then hops off Ornogrim’s shoulder, hops out the door, then takes flight.
Tinkey flies over to the crevasse in one of the front plateaus, taking note of everyone’s positions in the camp. He flies directly over Qarzdaq while enroute, who is just about to enter the shack by the disabled beacon.
As he enters, Qarzdaq is greeted with piles of coins, a few gems, a deep red potion, a hollow metal tube about one foot long, and a scroll with a skull imprinted on the outside. Drawing on his knowledge from the Volantis library, he realizes this is a scroll of Protection from Undead. He grabs everything and leaves the shack and notices the burning shack and starts towards that direction. He notices Tholanann and Qhortho trying to extinguish the fire and picks up the pace.
Tinkey lands outside the camp, just at the entry point of the crack that runs through the entire 50-foot tall plateau. She then begins to hop through the one-foot-wide opening and gets the whole way through without noticing anything out of the ordinary. This would be a great way to enter the camp unseen if you were a little guy stuck on the ground, but otherwise, not much else worthy of note.
As Qarzdaq gets closer to the burning shack, he sees Qhortho standing in front with his back towards him. He’s close enough now to be within earshot and yells out that he found some interesting things. Qhortho looks back at him, looks back at the shack, and, with a single forceful kick, collapses the shack completely, only barely jumping back in time to avoid severe burns. His foot catches fire but is easily stamped out.
Tholannan stops mid-stride. Looking at what the Dothraki has done, he shakes his head in disbelief. He continues the rest of the way walking and splashes the next bucketful of water on the smoldering fire.
Seeing his job as done here, Qhortho realizes Shadowsilver is nowhere to be seen and starts towards the arena.
Shadowsilver has been making her way to the arena portcullis to try out her new glowing key. She enters the extremely well-lit portcullis (thanks to the Light of Qarzdaq’s radiating stone), looks behind her to be sure no one is around, then slides the key in. Perfect fit. She attempts to twist it, but it does not move. She is perplexed by this, knowing this has to be the right key. She pauses for a few moments to think.
The door slowly sinks into the ground and disappears from view. Inside is a giant five-foot-long Valyrian greatsword on a pedestal with piles of silver and platinum around the base. Nestled among the coins is a flask of yellowish liquid with an eyeball floating around inside. She quickly scoops up all the platinum and 3000 of the silver coins.
Tholannan and Qarzdaq look at each other, shrug, and continue to douse the fire. Soon they are able to pull aside the roof and rummage through the remnants. They find a bunch of coins, gems, potions… and… some metal scraps. Wait. Those aren’t scraps. Damnit… those are the farming tools that are now burnt to shit.
They carefully collect everything from the shack’s remains, avoiding any remaining hot spots.
Qarzdaq shows Tholannan the metal tube he scavenged from another shack and Tholannan immediately recognizes it as a Chime of Opening.
THOL: I seem to know something about this. It’s coming to me right now! You can strike this as an Action, while pointing it at an object within 120 feet that can be opened, such as a door, lid, or lock.
QARZDAQ: Can I point it at a maiden’s legs?
THOL: Perhaps, if she is wearing a chastity belt. The Chime issues a clear tone and will open a single lock or latch on the object unless, for some reason, the sound cannot reach the object. If no locks or latches remain, the object itself will open. Unfortunately, these typically can only be used about 10 times, and there’s no way to know how many times it has already been used. Once it has expended its final charge, it will crack and become useless. This is a most useful tool indeed.
QARZDAQ: I was just going to use it as a carrying case for this scroll of Protection from Undead, but, well, maybe I still will! What’s that robe you’re carrying?
THOL: Yeah, check this thing out!
QARZDAQ: You have an interesting item yourself here. This is something called a Robe of Useful Items. Each of these patches can be torn off as an Action, which causes that object to appear somewhere around the Robe within a few feet. They’re not typically very valuable items, but they do tend to be useful – it’s not just a clever name. It looks like we’re missing a few, but that’s not too bad – we still have, what, 16 left.
Qarzdaq and Tholannan discuss what else there could be to find in the camp, then look atop the central plateau at the only shack they have not yet visited. They join hands and skip towards the ladder.
Shadowsilver yells out, “I WAS ABLE TO PICK THE LOCK AND FOUND A VALYRIAN SWORD!”
No one else except Qhortho hears of Shadowsilver’s discovery. Qhortho rushes into the arena from the surrounding deck, a roaring fire consuming the heavy arena door. He sees Shadowsilver under the glowing stone in the archway.
Shadowsilver turns around and sees Qhortho running towards her.
SHADOW: You have to see this! It’s like a sword of kings!
His eyes lock onto upon a beautiful and perfect smoky black blade. The unique hilt has one end that points towards the tip and the other, towards the handle. A fiery bright jacinth is encased at the very end of the handle inside a Valyrian steel casing. As he walks towards, he notices the blade looks silver at some angles. He lifts the unsheathed greatsword from its pedestal. He takes the sheath leaning against the pedestal and stows the blade, taking note that it must be twisted to release it.
QHORTHO: No, Shadow. This is a sword for a prince!
He quickly raises the sheathed blade above his head with both hands, and stops himself suddenly to prevent hitting the top of the archway.
QHORTHO: A dragon prince! Qhortho!
He dons the sheath on his back, crouches down to collect the silver coins. Shadowsilver dashes out of the archway quietly and quickly scales the arena wall. When Qhortho turns around to leave archway, Shadowsilver is nowhere in sight.
She enters the War Chief’s shack and sees a currently warging Onrogrim slumped against one wall directly across from the scared child, still in shock.
Shadowsilver looks at the child and smiles, then raises a finger to her mouth, “shhh…”
She deftly removes the wall panel, retrieves the lock box, picks the lock, places the flask holding someone’s eye ball in a yellowish liquid into the box, locks it up, and replaces it as if it had never been touched.
She pauses and smiles at the child, then exits the shack. She looks to both sides, sees no one around, and walks calmly over to the closest campfire to her right – the campfire nearest to the collapsed shack where Qarzdaq and Tholannan just were. Still no one in sight, she decides to take a seat as to not arouse suspicion.
Qarzdaq and Tholannan climb the ladder on the central plateau and open the shack’s door. They find more piles of coins and a few personal belongings. Qarzdaq looks over the items for possible arcane roots and nothing triggers his memories. He turns to Tholannan.
QARZDAQ: You know, I’d bet that all of these items in the camp belong to the villagers.
THOL: You’re probably right.
QARZDAQ: I think we should look over everything we’ve gathered, determine what we think is a reasonable take for the trouble, then return the rest.
THOL: What if we just ask what they are missing and give them that? We’ll probably come out on top with that approach because they’ll remember the most important items, but not the exact coinage or all of the gems – arguably the most valuable items.
QARZDAQ: Let’s go speak with the group.
They exit the shack and notice Qhortho descending the stairs near the War Chief’s shack heading towards the campfire by the collapsed shack. As they walk to the ladder, they see Shadowsilver already sitting nearby that campfire.
Tinkey, all this while, is taking in the view from the air, circling quite a ways from the camp.
The rest of the group gathers around the campfire and begin to assess their plunder – Shadowsilver, of course, keeping her ill-gotten gains to herself during the tallies.
Qhortho shows off his new blade with a giddiness they’ve only seen after a great fight.
QARZDAQ: That looks to be Valyrian in origin. Very nice find!
Ornogrim, not seeing any threats or anything interesting through Tinkey’s eyes, has Tinkey turn back towards the camp. He then unwargs, his eyes fluttering as his irises regain their green color. He sees the child staring at him holding his knees tight to his chest, clearly still in shock.
ORNO: Please do not fear, my child. We will be taking you home and you should come with us. You will be safe.
He continues to retreat farther into the corner with no remaining space to do so. Ornogrim picks him up and carries him out of the shack. He sees the rest of the group by the campfire and walks over.
They are in the process of discussing how to split the treasure when Ornogrim walks up carrying the small child.
Shadowsilver says that the Robe is clearly going to Qarzdaq, the Valyrian sword is going to Qhortho, and Ornogrim got the chainmail and greataxe from the War Chief, so she and Tholannan should split the gems evenly. She says that anything else is simply unfair.
Tholannan says they don’t know the values of any of these items so they need to be appraised before they can be split.
Qarzdaq states that the value of the Robe is not in its armor to himself but as a utility item for the group, and therefore shouldn’t be counted as a tally for his personal loot.
After some more debate, Qarzdaq puts forward the idea of a single common pool of money – a joint account of sorts. This is met with acceptance by the Dothraki, but especially not by Shadowsilver.
After some more successful lobbying, she is able to win over everyone except Qarzdaq.
Qarzdaq admits that he really doesn’t care because R’hllor provides all that he needs. He adds that he is the least selfish one around this campfire and he is arguing with the one that is the single most selfish.
After much time passes and the sun rises, they settle on splitting the coins evenly and then splitting the items and gems according to their value once they are appraised.
Ornogrim, gets up to explore the War Chief’s shack, with the assumption that no one has found anything in there yet. After rummaging through the bedroll and finding nothing, he Investigates the walls diligently. He finds the removable panel that Shadowsilver had secretly found earlier.
He finds and removes the lockbox hidden in the rocky cubby. He brings the lockbox out to the group.
ORNO: Hey guys, I found this! My lady, I believe you may be able to open this?
Shadowsilver takes the box and in a single motion, whips out her readily-accessible thieves’ tools and unlocks the box. Inside is a yellowish liquid containing an eyeball.
SHADOW: Oh wow! Look at this! This must be valuable if this was hidden away in this box!
No one knows exactly what this is, but Tholannan decides to open it to get a whiff and potentially identify it. He removes the stopper and takes note that there isn’t much of a smell.
Everyone else sees the eyeball disappear and yells at Tholannan to close it!
The eyeball does not reappear.
SHADOW: Oh shit… we just let something escape. Maybe it was a soul or something…
THOL: Or maybe we just wasted a very valuable potion.
SHADOW: Well, I don’t know what the fuck we just did, but that thing was valuable because the War Chief was keeping that thing locked up.
After a few minutes of them discussing what may have happened, Ornogrim looks down and exclaims that the eyeball is back in the flask!
THOL: Well, I’m not going to do that again… Who wants to hold on to this thing?
Shadowsilver calls, “not it.” Qarzdaq offers to be its keeper, but refuses to owe more of his share of the loot because of it.
Shadowsilver looks closely at the other potions and can tell the orange one with smoke has something to do with fire, but it’s hard to tell if it is meant to be applied to something or to consume. The green one looks to be something related to acid.
They decide it’s time to get back to the horses and they need to burn this place to the ground.
Qarzdaq walks around the entire camp and launches fire bolts at every flammable structure and body he can find.
The Unlikely Assembly walks right out the main entrance as the camp bellows smoke. This, by far, is the most unlikely of unlikely outcomes yet.
They arrive back at the tied-up horses and find a stark black horse with white speckles is among the common riding horses. Lajak Chaf, Qhortho’s warhorse must have left the camp and waited here with the others.
They take a much-needed long rest with their normal lookout rotation.
After their typical routine of prayer and meditation, the group rides west to Honeysuckle. Shadowsilver keeps the child with her to keep him in her good graces. After a few days, they are stopped by a small group of bandits.
Qhortho reaches behind his back to grab the hilt of his new Valyrian blade. He twists it to unbuckle the scabbard, then draws it out in front of him. He grins with delight as he sees the blade again. Reins in his left hand, Valyrian greatsword in his right and resting on his right shoulder, he rides up to meet them.
QHORTHO: Good day gentlemen.
BANDIT: Good day.
QHORTHO: You seem to be blocking the path.
BANDIT: You seem to be crossing our way.
QHORTHO: Path seems wide enough for us to pass.
BANDIT: It may seem wide enough for you – seems a bit too narrow for us.
QHORTHO: That doesn’t seem to be my problem.
BANDIT: It is now.
QHORTHO: You may want to reconsider.
BANDIT: I’ve made my consideration and my choice. Hand over 10gp each and we’ll let you go freely.
Shadowsilver shoots an arrow at the bandit, killing him instantly.
SHADOW: You guys still think this is the way you want to go??
QHORTHO: Last chance!
The bandits all draw light crossbows and begin firing at Shadowsilver.
Ornogrim, seeing no choice but to defend himself now, rides towards the closest mounted bandit and attacks with his greataxe, almost killing him.
Qhortho attacks with his Valyrian blade, almost killing him.
Qarzdaq unleashes a Wall of Fire that kills all of the enemies and their horses. Their screams only lasting for a moment before the fire destroys their vocal cords, only exhaled smoke continuing until their loss of consciousness only moments later.
Everyone looks at this then at Qarzdaq, who blows a little air over his fingers as if to cool them down.
Shadowsilver looks back at the child, “Don’t worry. You’re safe with us.”
The loss of five lives for a measly 50gp draws heavy on Ornogrim and Tholannan. But they had no choice. Such is life.
They collect a small amount of silver from the bodies and continue on their way.
A couple more days of travel and they can finally see Honeysuckle in the distance. As they get closer they are enveloped in a misty fog flowing from the east.
Ornogrim instructs everyone to stop. He sends Tinkey to scout ahead. She returns to Ornogrim after a few minutes to share that there are no enemies ahead.
They continue their ride into town. As they enter, they are confronted by a line of Sparrows ready to attack.
SHADOW: Don’t worry friends, don’t worry! We’re back!
Once they recognize the Assembly, they drop their guard and relief passes over them. The townsfolk had become so accustomed to the Orcs ransacking the town every time the mist came through that they just assumed this would be no different. Hopefully their fear of the mist will fade with time.
ORNO: Sparrows, where might be Frydah Greenhandler?
SPARROW: She’s around here somewhere.
ORNO: We would like to speak with her.
SPARROW: Very well. Follow me.
The Assembly dismount and walk through the town. They pass a residents that looks like he was freshly beaten, his 7-year-old son tending to him. A sparrow watches the scene nearby, club in hand.
Shadow nudges Ornogrim, “What do you think of that?” Ornogrim responds, “It is none of my concern. I never like to see someone hurt, but if this was the work of a Sparrow, I do not think we should get involved.”
Tholannan asks the sparrow standing by, “Why was this man beaten?”
SPARROW: He would not follow the rules.
THOL: Which rules do you speak of?
SPARROW: He pulled his child away from his schooling.
Nearby townspeople bow their heads and avoid eye contact.
THOL: Schooling?
SPARROW: We must insist that all must be educated or else how do they plan to exist in this world?
THOL: Surely you could have educated this man rather than beat him. That seems harsh and uncivilized.
SPARROW: He had no intention of allowing his son to be educated.
THOL: Perhaps it is best that you leave that up to them.
SHADOW: Well, you’d better not try to educate me sweetheart.
SPARROW: I do not think this is any of your concern.
THOL: I may worship a different god, but as a man of the cloth, surely we can agree…
SPARROW: No. That is what makes you wrong!
THOL: It is YOU that are wrong! The Mother Rhoyne provides for all regardless of whether you acknowledge that fact.
ORNO: My friend, Tholannan, even though I do not like what I see any more than you do, I’m afraid I must agree with the Sparrow. This is not of our concern.
THOL: That’s because there’s no money in it for you.
SHADOW: When did you become such a pansy?
ORNO: Pfft… I am no pansy, and since when do you care about such things? And Thol, money is not why I choose to stay outside this argument.
SHADOW: I don’t give a shit, but I think it’s wrong.
ORNO: So do I but I don’t think it’s our place to step in here.
QARZDAQ: It’s not wrong by the laws of their church. We should not stand in the way of them continuing with their methods.
They trade a few more debate points until Tholannan cuts through the noise, speaking to the Sparrow.
THOL: You think you can bend these people to your will under the whip, but I tell you it will come back to you tenfold. It is unwise to do as you’ve done to these people and that’s all I will say about it.
SPARROW: Say what you will, but we are helping them and providing security for this town that had none before. Where were you to help them when they were looted of all their possessions and their children stolen? Are you going to stay to help rebuild the town from the shattered remains? You helped us by relocating us here. We helped them to become secure and are teaching them how to defend themselves.
SHADOW: You’re right. We shouldn’t be getting involved. These people needed our help.
Tholannan looks at the Sparrow with contempt.
SHADOW: Let’s go talk to Frydah. By the way, we did take care of the Orc problem to the east…
They continue down the main dirt road in town, following the Sparrow who guided the group from the entrance.
A woman runs up to the child on Shadowsilver’s horse. Her hopeful face melts to extreme sadness as she realizes this is not her child.
A man, almost excited by the woman’s reaction, runs up to the child and, with recognition, pulls him from the horse, clutching him tightly and crying. He collapses in the mud while holding him so tightly the child begins to cough.
ORNO: Sir, your son has seen many horrors that may take some time to overcome.
MAN: Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
They continue along the dirt road and arrive to meet a woman working the earth with only a wooden pole.
FRYDAH: Ah, I see you’ve come back. Did you see the monsters of which I spoke?
ORNO: We bring good tidings and even better news madam. The Orcs have been annihilated and their camp destroyed.
FRYDAH: Well, that’s fantastic news!! How is this possible? There are only five of you and so, so many of them!
QARZDAQ: We are the Gang of Solutionists.
FRYDAH: I will tell you this, from here on out, we’ll be calling you the Exorcists of the Mists!
ORNO: We did find some farming equipment, but sadly it was burnt. We did scavenge the metal parts though, so we were hoping you could recraft the wooden parts.
SHADOW: We were wondering, what was taken by the Orcs?
FRYDAH: Ooo.. Well, in coins alone, over 600 platinum. In terms of items and artifacts, we had many potions and countless gems. We had a Valyrian sword as well.
SHADOW: What? You had a Valyrian sword? How is it that you came by that?
FRYDAH: It actually goes back to the history of the Honeysuckle’s founding – and why Highgarden would never come to help us in our time of need… You see, the town began as a camp of thieves and outcasts about 30 years ago. About then, we decided that we had enough wealth and wanted to settle down. Now we are just families living off the land. Many of us are second generation and have families of their own. Admittedly, we caused a lot of trouble back then for Highgarden, we were bandits on the run, we were outlaws, I readily acknowledge that. But, because of this history, Highgarden would not step in when we needed. They felt it was us getting what we deserved. But anything you can do to get us back to self-sustenance, maybe buy some tools and have something to provide for our families.
ORNO: We did agree to give you the tools.
SHADOW: We left in quite a hurry. We will check through everything and get what we can to you.
ORNO: I do appreciate your honesty with how you came about these gains. We do want to leave you with something, but I think you already know it won’t be anything near what you had to begin with.
FRYDAH: As I said before you left weeks ago, you can keep what you feel your trouble is worth. I just ask that we get the farming tools and anything else that you feel you can spare so we can rebuild and restock our food supplies. Just so we can sustain ourselves. Right now, we are basically slaves to the Sparrows because we have no ways of otherwise protecting ourselves.
SHADOW: We’ll go look through everything and come right back.
They leave the camp and begin to sort through their loot.
ORNO: I think we give the burned farming equipment and half of the coins. We keep the rest. That’s plenty for us.
QARZDAQ: I say, we give them the equipment and all the copper. Also the handkerchief, mirror, and chalice.
SHADOW: I’d be ok with that.
ORNO: That’s fine by me as well.
THOL: Yes, that’s 9,500 copper pieces. That will do well for them.
They enter the town and meet with Frydah. They hand over the metal equipment parts and a satchel of 9,500 copper coins with the other items on top of the coins inside the satchel.
SHADOW: This should get you well on your way. There’s almost 10,000 copper in there and some heirlooms.
Frydah’s eyes well up. Little does anyone know, Shadowsilver dropped in all 80 of her counterfeit gold coins. Whatever happens to them now, it’s no longer her problem.
FRYDAH: I thank you for your service to our people. We will have to remake the wooden parts of this equipment, but the most expensive pieces are here. You are always welcome back here in Honeysuckle.
They say their goodbyes and leave the town for Highgarden.
Over the next five days, they travel the Roseroad north, which is a beautifully maintained road that runs from Oldtown to Highgarden and beyond.
Each morning, Qarzdaq meditates on his Amulet, Ornogrim communes with Tinkey to scout the area, and Tholannan casts Aid to provide greater health to his allies.
Continuing their ride along the Roseroad, they see fields of golden roses stretched over the rolling hills of The Reach. They soon see a large Renaissance style castle on the horizon.
A few older square towers rise above its walls. These look ancient, maybe built as early as the Age of Heroes. Numerous taller and thinner, round modern towers are scattered throughout the cityscape.
The River Mander flows directly into the town, through a large gateway in its outer walls, left of the entryway. Highgarden is perhaps the most beautiful castle they’d ever seen. Music seems to emanate from the land. Sounds of singers, pipers, fiddlers and harpers can be heard flowing above and below each other like soft waves crisscrossing in an otherwise still lake.
As they pass through the outer wall, a pleasure boat with a harpist playing on board sails the river out of town through a large raised iron portcullis in the outer wall. Guards stand on the outer wall at either side of the gate. Though they are on watch, neither look particularly enthusiastic about it.
A large briar labyrinth is on the right, filling the area between the outer and middle walls, save a few feet on either side where people have worn a path to circumvent the labyrinth.
Passing through the middle wall, a huge sept takes is on the right. This is just as large as the Starry Sept in Oldtown – maybe larger.
SHADOW: Wow… Pretty impressive guys!
ORNO: Very nice.
Up ahead, the inner walls surround a beautiful, tall castle. The travelers gaze ahead, distracted by the elegance and beauty when they are beckoned from their left.
“Greetings travelers. Would you be interested in stabling your fine steeds?” the stable master calls out.
Their eyes resolve onto a tall man with a thick, cropped beard with short hair. The stable appears to house a well-kept array of horses.
Almost in unison, the group agrees to do this.
STABLER: We will keep them for free here at the stables. It is a service from Highgarden to keep the city clean. Our services are free, but we do work for tips.
ORNO: Sure, sure.
Ornogrim flips the man a silver coin.
STABLER: Thank you sir!
Qhortho flips him a copper coin, with an attitude that suggests he is flipping one of gold.
QHORTHO: Don’t spend it all in one place.
STABLER: Thank you, thank you sir. (His tone waning as he realizes the denomination)
Shadowsilver flips a copper coin to the man.
SHADOW: Appreciate it. I’m not rich like these guys.
STABLER: Any and all are welcome. Thank you.
Qarzdaq flips the man a silver coin.
QARZDAQ: May R’hllor guide your way through the darkness.
Tholannan hands over the reins to his horse without saying a word.
Knowing they need to meet with Tyrone, and that Tyrone should be with the Maester Paxtan, they continue up the main cobblestone road towards the castle. They pass numerous groves and fountains, shady courtyards, and marble colonnades on the way.
The craftsmen they pass seem to be of high caliber, perhaps at the level of those in Oldtown – or at least close to it. Highgarden would easily be the next best place to set up shop after Oldtown, if one were any good at his trade.
The castle gates, now just ahead, are open with many fancily-uniformed guards in shining armor standing along both sides of the path leading inside the castle. The guards do not move as you pass through the inner gates. It appears the Unlikely Assembly have arrived as open court proceedings are in progress.
They weave through the crowd of commoners and noblemen to get a better view. A long table sits upon a stone dais. A man with a white beard sits at the table and appears to be the Justice of the Court.
JUSTICE: Who is next to address the court?
A scruffy commoner steps up.
COMMONER: Me lords. Me name is Garth Gradyr. I request your assistance with the local pub by the name of the Shattered Shingle. They seem to serve others fine meals, while I get rubbish. I ask that you intervene on my behalf to force them into equality of food quality.
The Justice seems bored by this request, as if he’s heard too much of this sort of pettiness for the day.
JUSTICE: Have you any proof of this?
COMMONER: Well…. No…. But… I’ve been told…
JUSTICE: Please do not waste the courts time with such trivial matters. Who is next?
The commoner grumbles to himself as he walks out through the crowd.
A man, either well-dressed for a commoner or humbly-dressed for a nobleman, steps up to say his piece, with an aristocratic accent.
MAN: My lords of the Court. My name is Ser Jinkins of House Frynden. I wish to present a formal complaint with a local establishment. I am travelling from the Vale and sought accommodations at Lannis Lookout. They refused me entry and would not allow me to stay the night. I was forced into staying at the Whispering Winds. I’m sure this is a fine establishment for commoners, but not for the likes of those with stature.
JUSTICE: Hmmm. Lannis Lookout you say? And you are of House… uhm… what was that again?
MAN: House Fryndon, My Lord.
JUSTICE: House Fryndon. Yes, yes, of course. We will speak with the establishment.
MAN: Thank you.
As the man turns to walk away, the Court Justice rolls his eyes hard. This causes some snickering amongst the crowd. The man turns back to look around, clearly with the feeling of being mocked. The Justice nods his head and the man leaves the Court.
JUSTICE: Anyone else have business with the Court?
A middle-aged man with the distinct look a merchant walks up.
TRADER: Me lords. My name is Aiken Stewar. I deliver provisions and other supplies along the Ocean Road to Old Oak, Crakehall, Lannisport, and Casterly Rock.
The mention of Casterly Rock triggers something for Qarzdaq from stories of a lost scroll. Valyrian sorcerers believed that Valyria’s downfall would come from the Rock’s gold.
TRADER: I have been working this trade route for many years and take with me ten caravans and, what is normally, ample security. But, the increased raids on the shores are straining my resources that allow me to stay in business. Most of our supplies are purchased by Lannisport and Casterly Rock. They source enough gold in their mines to pay my entire yearly security budget, every single day I travel the Ocean Road! I ask for your support in either securing funding for my security or providing the forces directly.
JUSTICE: Yes. The roads are quite dangerous. This goes along with the risks and rewards of trading as you know. However, I do understand that these are difficult times. We will look into the matter and see how we may provide assistance. Please see a court officer to have arrangements made.
JUSTICE: Is there anyone else who wishes to address the Court?
Shadowsilver whispers to the group, “That seems like a good job for us. Protecting traders along the Ocean Road.”
Qhortho moves to step forward to address open court.
Shadowsilver pulls his arm to hold him back, already knowing what’s on his mind and how his “addresses” to those with authority have gone in the past.
Qhortho looks confused by this, but decides not to push forward.
JUSTICE: Court is hereby convened and we will reopen proceedings one week from this day. Thank you all.
The crowd begins to empty forced to move around the Assembly, who all remain in place.
They can see the Trader speaking with one of the guards in shiny armor along the back wall. These must be the Officers of the Court.
Thinking this is their easiest way of accessing Maester Paxtan and Tyrone, they approach the Officer that first makes eye contact.
SHADOW: Hi, we’re looking for your maester or Tyrone, who is a friend of ours.
QARZDAQ: Tyrone Bannister. You may have heard of him.
The Officer repeats the name “Tyrone Bannister” to himself, attempting to remember who that might be. His face plainly shows that he has drawn a blank.
SHADOW: I’m sure he is with your maester. If you can point us in that direction, that would be helpful.
OFFICER: Maester Paxtan?
QARZDAQ: Yes.
ORNO: He is anticipating our arrival and would be pleased that you bring us to meet with him.
OFFICER: Any outsiders, especially commoners dressed as you are, wishing to speak with Highgarden’s maester would have to speak with the King himself.
QARZDAQ: We would gladly meet with the King.
He scoffs at the presumption.
OFFICER: I’m sure you would!
QHORTHO: My good man, we are the Unlikely Assembly…
ORNO: …wait…
QHORTHO: …the Busters of Ghosts…
ORNO: …Wait…
QHORTHO: …the Gang of Solutionists…
ORNO: …WAIT…
QHORTHO: …Friends of Sand Snakes…
ORNO: …NO, NO…
QHORTHO: …Exorcists of the Mists…
ORNO: …NO, NO, STOP QHORTHO, DAMN! We are not friends of the Sand…
QHORTHO: …We are not mere peasants here to see the Lord!
The Officer looks back and forth at the two of them and takes this all in. Other Officers are looking over at the developing spectacle.
OFFICER: Ha! I invite you and your band of merry travelers to take this elsewhere. I do not have time for your nonsense. Especially not those who propose to be Dornish or friends of Dorne.
QHORTHO: I’m not Dornish.
OFFICER: You call yourselves friends of Dorne.
QHORTHO: Do I look Dornish?
OFFICER: You look worse. Now get out of here.
They regroup and discuss that if someone from The Reach asks you if you’re friends of Dorne, you say NO!
Shadowsilver walks up to the Officer at the other end of the line of Officers as he finishes his business with the Trader who spoke up in Court.
SHADOW: Hi, I am looking for a friend of mine who told me to meet him here at the castle of Highgarden. He said he’d be with Maester Paxtan. His name is Tyrone Bannister.
OFFICER: I do not know the name. Who might you be?
Ornogrim pipes up with a long list of titles, leaving out the Gang of Solutionists and Friends of Sand Snakes – the only two that are Dorne-specific.
OFFICER: That means nothing to me.
SHADOW: Is there any way you can get word to the maester so we can meet with him?
The Officer’s lack of Intelligence skill shines through.
OFFICER: Not just anyone can speak with the maester.
SHADOW: We’re not asking to speak with the maester directly. Is there a way you can speak with him to tell him we are here? He will want to come to us.
OFFICER: Let me get my superior. He may know something of this.
QARZDAQ: There ya go. Get the manager. We’ll get this all sorted.
The Officer walks towards a hallway leading deeper into the castle when a guard with a cape is walking out. The Officer first approached notices the caped guard and intercepts him before the next Officer gets to him. The first Officer is quite animated in some story he’s telling when the second Officer walks up and joins the conversation. The two Officers look over at the group simultaneously and point. The caped guard looks over and nods, then motions to lower their hands. The caped guard confidently strides over to the group.
CAPED GUARD: I am Ser Marcyn Sentel. The King of The Reach is expecting you. Follow me.
As they follow Marcyn, Qhortho looks at the first Officer and taunts him with a face that accurately conveys a sarcastic “oh, look who’s not of stature to meet with the king.” The Officer shows his annoyance and looks away.
Shadowsilver is on the lookout for a trap, as she typically is.
He leads the visitors to a courtyard in the center of the castle where you see a middle-aged man sitting on a stone bench, contemplatively staring at a frayed oak stump in the center of the courtyard. Ser Marcyn stops just as he enters the courtyard, forcing everyone to stop in their tracks.
MARCYN: Your Grace, the visitors you’ve been awaiting have arrived.
The man on the bench raises his hand indicating to allow their entry. Marcyn steps to the side and directs them to proceed to the King.
The King continues to stare at the stump. When they get close enough for conversation, he begins to speak without looking up at the group.
KING: Do you know what that is?
Ornogrim looks it over and his memory serves him well as he now recognizes what it must be. The destroyed Oakenseat. Originally planted by Garth Greeenhand thousands of years ago. He also knows that it was destroyed by the Dornish when they slayed his predecessor Garth the Tenth of His Name.
<IMAGE ON RIGHT IS THE OAKENSEAT BEFORE THE DORNISH BURNED IT>
Ornogrim tells of what he knows.
Qarzdaq Messages Qhortho to not say anything related to Dorne or the Dornish.
Qhortho does not understand how this is not an “enemy of my enemy” situation, but decides it is best to heed Qarzdaq’s words, given the gravity of the situation.
The King looks up momentarily to recognize the one who just spoke then returns a longing gaze to the Oakenseat.
KING: Yes, that is right. You show me honor by knowing something of our history. Garth Greenhand is considered to be the common ancestor across most of the noble Houses in Westeros, dating back to the First Men. Some time after it was planted, the tree was carved to be our throne. A living throne. A symbol of our House and rule for thousands of years. We live in different times now. Back then, we wore crowns of vines and flowers when at peace, and crowns of bronze thorns when we rode to war. Things were simpler in many ways – with a common foe in the Ironborn. Others may have styled themselves as kings, but the Gardeners were the unquestioned High Kings, and lesser monarchs did us honor, if not obeisance.
His demeanor turns to that of anger.
KING: What you see before you today is a symbol of our fall, destroyed by the Dornish when they slayed Garth, the Tenth of His Name. These days, The Reach is fractured and I fear we have not yet seen the worst.
The anger leaves him and he slumps ever so slightly before getting to his feet and turning to the group, looking them over for the first time.
KING: I bore you with the details of our history. I should take you to meet your friends.
SHADOW: Thank you My Lord.
ORNO: We are extremely honored.
Greydon Gardener, King of The Reach, leads them from the courtyard through an arched vine passage with beautiful white and yellow roses about 15 feet wide and 15 feet tall at its peak. It leads out to the castle godswood where an enormous weirwood tree rises from the ground in a courtyard surrounded by woodlands.
The King stops at the end of the tunnel and, with a sweeping gesture, permits their entrance to the godswood. He turns and walks back into the castle as the last of the group passes by.
Two men, one wearing a blue robe, the other a gray one, are speaking with each other while looking at the giant weirwood.
As you get closer to them, you see that the weirwood tree actually has three distinct trunks at its base.
Small curved marble benches are positioned around the courtyard with about 30 feet of separation from the weirwood, presumably for viewers to gaze at the beauty of what is known as The Three Singers.
Both men turn around as you approach.
TYRONE: Finally! You’re here! This is great timing. I, we, have much to share with you!
ORNO: Who are you exactly?
TYRONE: I am Tyrone Bannister, steward of sorts for this Unlikely Assembly with whom you have arrived. And you are?
ORNO: I am Ornogrim. A new member of the Unlikely Assembly.
TYRONE: Ah… Unlikely indeed! What happened to the little guy? Burton.
ORNO: I believe a man of your stature would know that man was no man at all, but a grumkin. Not reliable or any sort that would stick around or be good to have in a group.
TYRONE: You speak with stereotypes friend. This little guy, though mischievous as he was, he did help your fellow adventurers quite a bit.
ORNO: Be that as it may, I still think they are better off without him.
TYRONE: Perhaps. As you are here now, fate has shown its own path forward.
ORNO: Indeed.
TYRONE: I have to start by telling you something about the Amulet. I was tracking it for some time, but I lost the ability for some unknown reason. I determined it was interrupted by someone even more powerful than Andrea who also focused on the Amulet. This means they must have an even deeper relationship with the item – possibly another red priest – perhaps from where this item originated. I do not know this for certain. But I do hold fear that this person is far more powerful than Andrea.
THOL: So you had been tracking it while Qarzdaq had it?
TYRONE: No. You mistake the timeline here. I had been tracking it while Andrea had it. I had been tracking it while you were traversing the Labyrinth of Ghost Hill. This is how I was so certain of its location. I needed her to witness a viable threat beyond her expectations… beyond my single source of power. You see, a diversity of lesser level skills is sometimes more powerful than a single source of power, even at a high level. However, I lost the ability while you were following her trail.
QARZDAQ: Oh, I see… hmm…
TYRONE: I know not of what methods they used – if they can track the object, you are in grave danger. However, I believe that I came across an enchantment that I can apply to prevent this object from being used to track you at all. I dared not tell Martell about these details, with as much as he has on his mind right now, that would be reckless. I went to Oldtown to learn about Amulet of Lightbringer and to get support against this Unknown Person – you’ve already taken care of Andrea, so we only need to prevent or, if it comes to it, defeat this person to save the world from certain apocalypse.
He lets the Tear of Life be seen around his neck.
TYRONE: Apparently, the Amulet and the Tear of Life share some common links in how they were created. The stories say the originators used the essence of the gods themselves in their creation. They speculate whether this was at their gods’ wills or whether the gods were tricked, but the power remains the same. However, despite all the information in the Citadel Library, there was only so much related to the details that would help us. The author of the most in-depth books on the subject spent time in the Red Temple before he became a maester and is now assigned to Highgarden…
He raises his arm to introduce the robed man next to him, wearing a maester chain that includes a few links of Valyrian Steel.
TYRONE: …Maester Paxtan. However, even those were incomplete.
PAXTAN: Yes, I know quite a bit more than I was allowed to publish by the Citadel.
TYRONE: In short, we NEED to be sure it remains safe from this Unknown Person. Please, tell me, if you would, how were you able to defeat Andrea?
QHORTHO: We are few but mighty!
QARZDAQ: Our skills have increased incredibly since you last saw us. We also hired Jonah Bick to help.
SHADOW: We came to us with information and helped us ambush her.
TYRONE: Ah… Jonah Bick… I see… Well, have you told anyone… ANYONE… else? I trust that Jonah Bick would keep the information safe else harm his reputation. But does anyone else know about the Amulet?
QARZDAQ: The only one who knows I have the Amulet is the Western Light at the Red Temple in Oldtown.
A look of shock takes over.
TYRONE: Please tell me that is not true!
QARZDAQ: It is true…
TYRONE: Now it will be that much harder to determine who the aggressor is…
QARZDAQ: I was obligated to tell him.
TYRONE: We need to determine how to protect this item from falling into the wrong hands. We msut keep it secret from anyone else.
PAXTAN: I only know that it increases power for certain magical abilities. Have you seen the effects for yourself?
QARZDAQ: Yes. Oldtown was under siege by the Ironborn and the fierceness of the flame I could bear forth was increased mightily on our approach to the city.
TYRONE: You were able to wield its power?
QARZDAQ: If only for that moment. And not since.
PAXTAN: Perhaps you are the owner it is meant to be with.
TYRONE: Our plan is to commune with the Amulet to learn more about it and its abilities. We will use the Tear of Life to amplify the power. I would not wield both of course. Maester Paxtan will take the task of communing with the Amulet. I promise you will get it back. We can do this right here in front of your eyes.
QARZDAQ: That is acceptable to me.
SHADOW: Woo… Alright, let’s try it.
TYRONE: Just stand back a bit – we don’t know exactly what will happen.
Qhortho, Shadowsilver, and Ornogrim sit on one of the marble benches. It’s a bit close, but they know each other pretty well at this point. Tholannan and Qarzdaq are especially on guard. Wielding the power of both of their gods in such close proximity puts them on edge.
The two robed men face each other, each holding an artifact. They bow their heads and begin whispering to themselves, fading to silence as they focus.
They chant ancient words that hold no meaning for any of the onlookers – and with no apparent effect.
After about a minute, the two artifacts begin to glow.
The glow of the two artifacts appears to be more than just light as they flow and mingle and swirl around each other, without mixing to the expected purple from blending the two colors.
The flows of light corkscrew around each other slowly, with a very subtle and soft “woosh” with each revolution.
The “wooshing” gradually becomes louder as the swirls hasten and grow larger. Before too long, the swirls of blue and red are engulfing the two men and the sound drowns out any other sound.
Suddenly, the two robed mean are pushed apart by several feet and fall backward onto the ground. The two artifacts stop glowing as they fall; the red and blue lights disappear.
They shake their heads in confusion and slowly get back to their feet.
Maester Paxtan and Tyrone stare at each other for a moment with a look of awe and sadness.
Paxtan, still holding the Amulet, reaches out to hand it back to Qarzdaq. Just before it gets within Qarzdaq’s reach, Paxtan appears to withdraw slightly as if he has some issue with releasing the Amulet. He overcomes this issue and hands it over.
Tyrone, looks at the group, then back at Paxtan, then back to the group.
TYRONE: Friends, I saw a vision of a great force, worse than the forces of Yronwood. Worse than the Valyrians even.
PAXTAN: I saw the same vision, my friend.
Tyrone nods.
TYRONE: An army of creatures that pose a great threat to mankind. They appear to infest the forests of the North. We may be the only ones who know about this in the world right now. We now have two major threats to deal with – this force in the north and this Unknown Person seeking the Amulet. I need more time to understand these visions, but now that our eyes are open, I should not need the aid of the Amulet.
SHADOW: Can you help us conceal the Amulet?
TYRONE: Yes. I will provide you with that enchantment to block it from being tracked. We must travel north to intercept that force once we are ready so it may be destroyed once and for all!
QHORTHO: Battle you say… Hmmmmm…
TYRONE: It will take some time to determine how to proceed, but I have another confession to make friends… I told Lord Greydon, King of The Reach, that for allowing us unfettered access to Maester Paxtan, you would be willing to help him with some issues along the coast. I hope I did not overstep, friends.
SHADOW: What does this kind of work pay?
TYRONE: You should go speak with him at once. You certainly can decline, but I know you have the adventuring spirit and Maester Paxtan’s aid in these matters will be immensely beneficial to preventing a catastrophe of epic proportions. If you decline, all is not lost, we will just have to figure out another way to learn more about this force.
SHADOW: As long as it pays well.
TYRONE: OUR payment would be in Maester Paxtan’s time, not in coin.
We end this session on Day 262. Each Member of the Assembly is at 23,900XP and in the greatest danger they’ve ever known.