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Dandi sighs, her soul heavy with the continued pressure to be more than she was ever meant to be. "I love you brother mine, but not all of us are up to grand visions and world saving heroics. The Shoanti died in droves for those heroics just past; how do I look them in the eye and ask for more? How do I ask any of you for more? Some days, even words are too much."
She reaches out and touches his face, finding a sad semblance of a smile, for him. "Aye, I'll walk with you on whatever grand quest you've in mind, but don't ask me to believe exactly as you do. I don't have it in me to be more than I am. Befriend the Shoanti if you will, I'll not get in the way, at least not knowingly."
Barael's body posture relaxes as he listens to Dandi's words with Fondo.
"Fondo, look at the loss here. Look at the lack of unity." Barael looks directly at Fondo, thumbs in his belt pouch.
"If your intent is to bring peace to the Shoanti, then advise them to remain as far from us as possible. Krojun is dead because of me and you, do not forget. The mantis was our disease, and it was spread here today. Of the ten red dead this day, four of them were ours. Imagine what would have been done here were we not here to defend." Barael bows his head, then lifts it again to regain eye contact.
"If civil war breaks out, if it hasn't already, then better they not come at all. Let them focus their wrath at the Queen through us. Speak well with the Shaman, let them sharpen us as they would their arrows with their knowledge, and let them loose us back at Korvosa to our mutual ends. Only after that evil is extinguished should you focus on peace between peoples." Barael quiets, waiting for Fondo's response.
Charlie, will tell you that he's been communicating with Eries on a more or less daily basis. He's learned much of what has been going on in Korvosa, and there is no civil war as yet, and none on the horizon.
Martial law has been fully instituted. The Gray Maidens control most of the city. The Sable company and the Korvosan Guard have been fully combined under Cressida's leadership and largely work for the Gray Maidens. The nobles are largely cowed and the Queen continues to consolidate her personal and political power.
There have been no further uprisings - at least not any of note. The plague continues to be a problem - particularly in the still-quarantined Old Korvosa. Flare ups, when they happen, are quickly isolated and cured, but they still linger.
As far as Eries can tell, the Seneschal is still in hiding. If he has been captured, it's been kept quite.
Fondo listens and thinks on his companions' words. "And so we've struck upon what common thread unites our band, if common thread there is.
"Nikolay would slay the Queen, and keep the quahs away. Should war persist, he'll slay the braves who give us food and shade us from the sun.
"So too does Brother Rat the Queen's end seek. He feels tis we who brought these deaths on warriors of the quah called Sklar.
"Jel'inedra, tis peace you seek? A family's love? Life free of quest and fights? And yet our course steers toward a war. Perhaps a war with Queen alone, or mayhap with her armies gray."
He looks at Briar and nods respectfully. "And Brother Rose would council keep with him and him alone."
Finally, he goes to sit by Deyanira. "And Poori'nedra, tis brother and your studies you so fondly wish to find again? That path too lies through the Queen, if Charlie's words doth truth portray."
He pauses. "The Sklar and other quahs may seem as foreign as the lands Vudran. Unfriendly, yes, but also hosts who've treated us with honor pure. To them, Korvosans are the folk who drove them to this blight, away from green and water blue. From homelands that they dream about, and gardens they would tend.
"Tis true, that's what we are. And yet they've broken bread with us, and listened to our words. Is it true, brave Nikolay, that in your heart you hold no love for such as these?
"Can we, in faith, deny their dreams? Could we such dreams in peace fulfill, should common cause be forged?" He looks at Desna's mark upon his skin, and continues.
"Tis also true Ileosa's aims mean war with all the quahs. Her aims end not within Korvosa's walls. Her minions did our trail pursue, but come they would in any case. They'll come against whomever stands between the Queen and power complete.
"So let's not kid ourselves that brave Shoanti died for us. They died — bravely, as is their wont — to fight a shadow cast upon us all." He sighs, and shrugs. "But yes, I'll ask them for the wisdom that we seek. And too I'll ask the quahs to stay their hands until we've Ileosa killed.
"But if their answer should be 'No,' and war is what they seek, I feel I must attempt their hand to guide toward Ileosa and her minions gray—away from those our hearts do love, the folk whose will seeks but the good. The small folk, Kroft, Vencarlo, rats, Ruan. Would that suffice, my Harrowcast? My friends?"
He pauses once more and finishes. "Shoanti pool their spoils and share the best with warriors brave. A boon I ask: we hand to them what we have found among the Mantis Red. Let's trust they'll give us what's our due, as sign of trust that shall our true petition aid."
Barael only speaks one word, as Fondo fails to accept responsibility for spilling Shoanti blood.
"Let's have their answer then. We only endanger them by remaining."
Fondo looks quizzically at the Rat and laughs.
"We've been clear we move against the demon queen, an enemy they share. These are no mice, nor rats who sneak in shadows dark. They're warriors with hearts of sun."
Barael's teeth grind at bit at Fondo's response.
"I'll remember that when Ruan lies dead at your feet, courtesy of a Mantis sabre." Barael's arms are now crossed.
"I don't remember us taking every precaution to prevent being followed here, so, yeah, I'll wear the cap that says 'fool' on it, and bear it with the shame it deserves. You have the Queen on your arse, Mantis a nice little love letter sent only after you. You're a fool to believe they were here just to harass a Quah in the middle of the Cinderlands."
"If you really believe that we have no bearing in the shadow that's visited, then you be sure when you're talking with the Shaman not to leave out the part that had us travelling here with Mantis Masks in my bag, getting scryed and all."
"This rat will gladly step out into the sun, if you need him to show his heart to a third Quah." Teeth grind further, but seem to chew up further words.
"No effort to get them off our trail? Mayhap you did nothing to that end while trundling about Caer Maga. Me, I made every effort to shake our pursuers, and did so with élan. If they found us here, tis because they've magic at their disposal."
He shakes his head. "Would you rather seek no ally? Face a kingdom alone? Die alone, and leave her to send her armies out in true force? We're here because we seek enemies to our enemy. Allies against a murdering queen. Aye, I'll own they followed us here. I'll not take credit for her murders though. That blood debt is hers."
Fondo thinks for a moment more. "Oh, you think they followed the masks—your spore. That could be. Could be too they've found some other thing to scry. No matter. Blood's theirs. Wrong's theirs."
He cocks an eyebrow, and whispers to Barael audibly in Varisian.
"We offer my new brethren either peace or a much clearer and less costly focus to their war. Neither we nor they can afford for them to say 'No' in anger or fear. You can call it a lie, but it's a lie of mercy."
"Fondo, be at ease. Our argument is not with the Shoanti, it's between us. I will not damage the possibilities over which way the fingers point. Be our mediator. Ask what needs asking, but there needs no telling of our guilt here. I'm not sure what you will say, what you will promise, but I caution you to keep expectations realistic."
Barael rubs his temples. "Yes, Fondo. My spore." He produces a small bag from his belt pouch, pinches a wad of kahve grounds, and tucks it away in his left cheek. "My guilt, my foolishness." He sighs, suddenly fatigued.
"The blood split today was largely theirs. Shoanti blood mixed with red mist. There's wrong to go around for all. Even the Shoanti are wrong here, for their harsh judgments and rash discriminations. Briar is not of Korvosa, yet he would have lost his bowels today as likely as you or I should the council have ruled differently. I never ran a Shoanti off settlement lands. Would they slaughter all of those settlers to have their lands, or are they capable of reasoned negotiations?"
"What do you envision here, Fondo? Certainly not a pilgrimage of Shoanti to the edge of settlement lands. Any envoy of elders you bring back risk Krojun's fate. I can understand if you want to reassure them of your good intentions once we settle matters back in Korvosa. If you ask for time, they have that. If you ask for fighters, they have that, too. Unless you understand exactly what we're up against, you could cripple them permanently if you weaken their strength by stretching it back to our home." Thoughts swim behind the Rat's eyes, surfacing, then diving. He looks with real concern at Fondo.
"First is friendship and brotherhood, with as beautiful a face as we can offer. If we gain their hearts, all shall truly have their say. I mean only to build the bridge and offer passage. A focused strike by we six," he gestures to the main party, and nods respectfully to Deyanira, "Shall be the fulcrum of this war, but alliance may ensure that Shoanti and Korvosan alike win freedom and health. Desna willing." He smiles and turns to the others. "Are we ready? Other thoughts?"
*" is not of Korvosa, yet he would have lost his bowels today as likely as you or I should the council have ruled differently."
The only thing that's going to make me lose my bowels is listening to more of Fondo's overly generous praise of these Shoanti.
Briar says nothing, listening to the squawking and chittering.
I never thought I'd miss Korvosa.
Having said her piece already, Dandi simply nods.
Nikolay drinks and hopes the conversation will die without any fuel added to the fire.
After a time one of the burn riders comes to your yurt and asks you to join him in the central yurt with the village elders.
The party shuffles in and finds space for them to sit on the ground with the others around the fire. The sun shaman is here, as well as the chief and a small group of other elders. They are quiet as the party enters, most of them watching the flames dance. They are very quiet.
Finally, we can get out of here, one way or another.
Fondo activates his bracers in preparation for the discussion .
He enters quietly and stands at a point visible to the shaman, and waits until the shaman speaks.
Dandi keeps her usual silence, though she is very much aware of her surroundings. She'll try to place herself close to Barael and Fondo, if possible.
Eventually, after a long period of silence, the sun shaman looks up and begins to speak.
He tells a tale about how, hundreds of years ago, one of his own ancestors was called to join a righteous cause. A man named Mandraivus, a hero from a distant nation, was gathering a small group of warriors to aid in a fight against a despotic dragon named Kazavon, and the Sun Shaman’s ancestor joined this crusade. He was gone for months, and when he finally returned he was not the same man - his hands shook, his eyes carried a haunted stare, and he cried out in fear at night. He spoke little of what he saw while serving Mandraivus, but did say that they were successful in defeating Kazavon, and that the fortress of Scarwall was now under Mandraivus’s control. He was convinced it would remain impotent as long as the hero managed to maintain a hold on it.
While Kazavon had been defeated, his will to live was so immense that even the remains of his body twitched. The cabal had attempted to destroy the remains, but many fragments of the dragon’s skeleton resisted even their most destructive spells. Mandraivus tasked seven of his surviving followers (which the Sun Shaman’s ancestor counted himself among) each with claiming one of the bony relics of Kazavon’s body and ordered them taken from Scarwall. None of the seven would communicate where they were going to the others or to Mandraivus, and they were to ensure that their chosen relics would remain hidden and guarded for all time in order to prevent the dragon from returning to life.
The Sun Shaman’s ancestor told this story to his fellow shamans, and revealed that his chosen relic was the dragon’s fangs. The Shoanti took to calling them the Midnight Fangs, and they chose the ancient pyramid on the shores of Conquerer’s Bay as their reliquary. After hiding the fangs in a secret room deep inside the pyramid, they took to the task of ensuring that the fangs remained safe. For generations, they maintained their task - until Cheliax invaded and slaughtered the Shoanti. Those few who survived and knew the secret of the fangs were forced to flee with their kin into the Cinderlands. For the next three centuries the knowledge was passed from Sun Shaman to Sun Shaman, and they watched with fearful eyes as the city of Korvosa grew around their ancient reliquary.
During the time they were guarded, Shoanti shamans studied the fangs and communed with the spirit world about them. They discovered that a fragment of Kazavon’s soul remained lodged within the fangs. While this fragment alone wasn’t enough to work ill upon the world, it could certainly invade the dreams of those who touched them. The Sun Shamans were stubborn and willful, more than a match for the fangs’ temptations and promises, but a weaker mind - say, that of a petty young queen - would have no such defense.
The Sun Shaman goes on to explain that the fragments of Kazavon’s soul are like a plant - once they find suitable soil in which to grow, they can bloom into a mighty tree. This appears to be the case with Ileosa - her own cruelty and strength have been enhanced greatly by the fangs. Worse, she now possesses two souls - her own, and one grown from the fragment of Kazavon’s. Two souls in one body, the Sun Shaman muses, would grant her incredible power over her own mortality.
"Your people have brought this curse upon yourselves, and now upon us as well." he shakes his head sadly and pauses before continuing.
"This situation warrants a Blessing of the Ancestors. I will call upon a soul from the spirit world to see guidance and advice on how to proceed. Is there a particular spirit or ancestor with whom you have a particularly strong link? The stronger the link, the more exacting the advice granted by the Blessing becomes."
"I am merely a guide - the journey is yours."
"Zellara!" Dandi whispers, clutching her gown and swallowing hard. She looks to the others, her hair twitching and petting at herself soothingly.
She has no ancestors of her own, but Zellara has always felt like the ghostly godmother of her "family". She can think of no other, but still, the thought is frightening.
OUR PEOPLE?!?!?!
"Our people would be grateful for your Blessing."
YOUR PEOPLE BROUGHT THE EVIL BACK TO THESE LANDS!!!!!
"Your people have been very understanding, kind, and gracious to have us here."
WHY DIDN"T YOU FLEE THE ARMIES IN POSSESSION OF THE FANGS?!?!?!?!
"Why didn't I think of Zellara, too?" Barael looks to the others for confirmation.
Briar leans over to whisper to Barael.
"What spirit? Why not Aroden? Eh, Rat?"
Briar busts out a huge smile.
Not only am I the best of this group, but I'm also the funniest.
"He asked for spirit or ancestor. Not god. Aroden's likely very busy coming back from the dead." The Elf finds strange times to smile. Strange, indeed.
"Why didn't I think of Zellara, too?" Barael looks to the others for confirmation.
Dandi touches his shoulder and smiles, "It's ok, Barrie. You've likely a lot of ancestors in your line that come to mind first. But... she's the only one I have..." and certainly the only one that we all could claim in common, even if the ties by blood are not the ties one usually means by that phrase.
"If you speak on ancestors, aye. She's likely all we have worthy of what's needed." If you speak of spirit, why, yours is likely the strongest of us all.
Barael can't find the mind to return a smile, but he nods in assent.
"Zellara, yes. And Vyush'baro, father to all Barondos. May he come again to lead us down the road of fortune."
Many stories tell of a mythical savior of the Varisian people known now only by his nickname: Vyush'baro, the Cunning Wolf. In a time known as the Golden Age, it is told that Varisians were slaves to a nation of devils for thousands of years. Vyush'baro is said to have drafted a masterful document which tricked the devils into freeing the Varisians. These devils hunted the Varisians after their exodus for countless generations, destroying them wherever they were found, but were never able to bring them back under their control. Some believe Vyush'baro to have been an angel or a servant of Desna, who will return one day to lead the Varisian people to a promised land.
"Zellara would be fine with me."
Anyone or thing that won't attack us would be nice.
The sun shaman nods and begins to prepare for the ritual. He lets you return to your yurt to get some sleep while he prepares.
The ritual itself takes about two hours. The ritual must begin two hours before sunrise, so that it comes to its conclusion as dawn breaks. So you have some time to sleep and prepare before the ritual begins.
You are again summoned by burn riders as the hour commences. The Sun Shaman chooses the upper tier of Bolt Rock to perform the ritual and the entire tribe accompanies you to watch, silently and respectfully, as the ritual progresses.
Those who wish to partake in the blessing seat themselves in a circle around the Sun Shaman and his focus fire so that they are each touching another, forming an unbroken ring of flesh and bone.
Then the shaman begins by recounting the legends of the tribe and the heroics and wisdom of the ancestors in a sing-song voice, shifting after a little while into wordless droning and rhythmic chanting. This continues for nearly the entire two hours, after which the Sun Shaman slumps and the spirit to be contacted rises from the smoke of his focus fire to address the participants (image).
As Zellara rises from the smoke, her form coalesces and she recognizes you with a smile. She greets you each by name, and then says that she has a message for you about you goal. But before she delivers this message, she would like to perform a Harrowing for you.
She again draws from the deck and again reads the cards for the party. As she puts down the cards, something odd happens - every card is The Paladin… In the past, she speaks of a great draconic evil ruling over a castle of stone and blood. A group of heroes came and destroyed that evil with a mighty bastard sword - Serithtiel. In the present she sees the sword again hidden away in that same castle guarded over by a great undead evil. In the future, again the sword, but this time it is striking down a great noble evil in a green dress.
Her voice trails off, as it often does when she's about to fade, but this time, instead of fading, she grows stronger, and brighter, and the very sun - just dawning over the horizon - seems to burn through her with a thousand flames. A whisper of a voice comes back, stronger and stronger, and Zellara sings.
Fate of steel - Serithtial
Her cage for years sustained
Four enthralled in lost Scarwall;
Undead to keep her chained.
A spirit first, red war his thirst
Still stands at post of old;
A second foe, infernal soul
Waits high in tower cold.
In kennel’s grime third bides his time
Then vents his killing breath.
And on a stone ’mid ash and bone,
The final dreams of death.
The spirits worn and battletorn
And locked in their damnation,
The chained one’s hold at last grows old
And ushers in salvation.
Yet hope remains amid the chains
When blade’s stone cage has crumbled,
Friends to dread and the death of the dead,
Keys to Kazavon humbled.
As she finishes her song, Zellara smiles again, although this time her smile seems somewhat sad or bittersweet. Each of you feels a sudden upsurge in your souls as the spirits of the dead infuse you with energy to aid you.
The entire hill top swirles and fades as the spirits take you part way into their realm. The cruelty and evil of the undead within Scarwall are a blot in the spirit world, and the spirits seek victory. They imbue you with power before fading and again returning you to your world.
The Shoanti stand amazed as the ritual ends and Zellara fades into the dawning day.
Finally the Sun Shaman breaks the awestruck silence. “Truly these Friends of the Sun are blessed by the ancestors. They walk with the spirits and bear their mark. They honor us with their presence and friendship. As they go forth to battle the evil that has plagued these lands of ash for many-score generations, they go with the power of the Sklar-Quah. They shall go forth with the power of Father Sun in their hands.”
He gestures - a prearranged signal - and a few Shoanti begin to come forth with all the gear gathered from the fight. They lay the equipment at your feet.
"Take this as our gift to you. Take it and go - go now and proceed on the path which your ancestors have shown you."
He rises, as does the whole tribe, and escorts you triumphantly but firmly out of the village. It is a celebratory journey and many Shoanti applaud you as you pass among them and out into the Cinderlands.
At the edge of the village, the Sun Shaman turns to Fondo and smiles, "We'll meet again."
Fondo bows to the Sun Shaman, smiling.
Nodding to Deyanira, he prepares to mount his summoned steed. "Kaer Maga? We've the walking dead to send along their way."
Briar smiles as what he thought would happen (something much more rude and possibly bloody) didn't happen and something downright less-jerkish occurred. Grabbing a few items of power and stowing them, Briar leaves the Shoanti more upbeat, both for the blessing of Zellara and for the blessings of the Shoanti.
Somewhere along the way to Kaer Maga, Fondo muses aloud to his companions. "We make a fine team, proving that a free spirit and cooperation can be bedmates. Desna blessed me the day we met."
He looks to Briar, Charlie, Dandi, and Nikolay. "Your magic's become quite strong. If every you have need to strengthen it a bit, especially in company of demons and whatnot, give me the signal and wait a moment, that I might harmonize with you. If you've like magics at the ready, it may be a boon to dance together, like so."
Fondo proceeds to do a bit of a dance and hums his arcane harmony.
The party, with the aid of the ever supportive Deyanira, travels quickly to Kaer Maga. It takes just shy of two days to get there - mostly due to a lack of roads or trails leading to your destination and a lack of guides. But you find the Yondabakari river easily enough and follow it to Kaer Maga.
Kaer Maga has changed very little in the week or two you've been gone. However as you begin to seek out merchants to sell your wares you run into an old friend! Saul has moved to Kaer Maga.
His new 'shop' is but a tent at this point, but he's very glad to see familiar faces - especially ones that have made him so much money over the last few months.
"Greetings my friends! I wondered where you disappeared to! I feared the Queen had gotten to you when the raids started."
He goes on to explain that he left Korvosa not long after you did. It was clear that anyone could fall on the wrong side of the Queen and that's just too risky, let alone bad for business. He gathered up his goods, loaded a caravan train, and pointed his nose to Kaer Maga.
He's already bought the land his tent is on, and a few neighboring tents as well. Construction on his new shop will begin "...any day now." He's clearly very excited to be here in a new market.
He turns serious, "I already had many contacts here, so I'm confident that I can serve you, even in my limited space. What can I do for you my friends?"
While traveling, Fondo asks, "How much time shall we need to prepare ourselves Pharasma's scythe to be?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
At Saul's, Fondo gives Deyaniira a look and says quietly,
"Hm. Mayhap he could be a partner and friend to you while we make out way to Scarwall. No doubt he'd be a friendly broker for your amazing wares."
"Well met, friend Saul. We had indeed our stay outlived. We've little taste for maidens gray, nor Ileosa's viper green. Have you my poor'inedra Deyanira met?"
He turns serious, "I already had many contacts here, so I'm confident that I can serve you, even in my limited space. What can I do for you my friends?"
Briar nods to Saul, happy to see a familiar face.
"We need to sell and buy," Briar says while unloading goods both from himself and the rest of the party. "This and this and this and *these*," Briar shoves the pile of Red Mantis crap towards Saul.
"And then we'll need to make purchases, too. But let's get started here first..." Briar looks on and lets Saul get to work.
Fondo thinks a bit about the spoon and its spicy gruel. Imagines a lifetime of eating it. Blanches a bit. No, even if it is tastier than Barael's gruel. But those rods... We could make good use of them. "Let's keep the rods. Sell the rest. Even the elf boat." He looks sad at the last. Tis truly a beautiful bauble.
"Well, the rods would be sweet, Fondo, but our safety... What if we part with two of three? Our destination is Scarwall. Saul, anything you'd be able to tell us about it? Or might you have a connection locally that could inform us better before we spend a pretty penny with you in preparation?"
"If we're invading a fortress, three rods that can't be moved may help us steer a horde of... Ghouls...? Away from us. And besides, they'll make great posts for my hammock. A well rested Barondo makes our victory all the more certain!"
"Why yes, I know Deyanira." Saul beams at the party, "She's helped run errands for you before. Wizard aren't you dear? Still hanging around this group? Good for you."
He begins to catalogue all the items in his usual efficient manner, ticking things off, examining them closely with his monocle, listing values.
As he works, he turns a little paler when Barael asks about Scarwall, and he hesitates a moment before replying. "Scarwall is an undead castle in the middle of the Orc realm Belkzen, some 300 miles north of here. A most unwholesome place."
He looks up at Barael, "Why do you ask?"
Barael meets pale face with paling face. "I shouldn't wonder... She's never been wrong..." Barael gathers himself.
"Saul, it's been told to us that therein lies something that will help us in our opposition to Ileosa. We're headed there, somewhat straightaway. If it promises undead, then we need to review our equipment to best prepare. 300 miles, you say. Well then..." Barael looks to the others, a quick glance at Deyanira, and the fast steeds she stables.
Know (History) - Scarwall
"Scarwall? OH....I thought you were saying Barhall. I was wondering what the excitement over a drinking establishment."
"SAUL!" Dandi nearly flies across the marketplace when she sees him, kissing his cheek and hugging him tight. "It is GOOD to see you safe. Oh yes, we have stuff! Lots of it, and would appreciate your help turning it into things we can use. Like hair clips! and Ribbons. and maybe something sweet."
The tension in her uncoils for a moment, falls away, and for a few seconds the young woman of several months ago is there in her face. She turns the light of it on her companions, a hopeful bounce to her step.
"Oh, I know we need to go soon... but maybe just a... uh, little time, to do some shopping? We have been out in the dust for quite some time. Just a day or two, yes?"
In Kaer Maga, Nikoaly looks to fight evil with evil. He obtains a scroll of infernal healing (25 gp for scroll, 10 gp to scribe, auto check to learn) and copies it into his spellbook. He then expands upon this and figures out a greater version (learned from leveling up).
"Saul, it's been told to us that therein lies something that will help us in our opposition to Ileosa. We're headed there, somewhat straightaway. If it promises undead, then we need to review our equipment to best prepare. 300 miles, you say. Well then..."
"Better you than me lad - I wouldn't go to Scarwall without an extremely good reason, and even then I'd do it with the armies of Janderhoff at my back."
"One of your first problems is the orcs. Between here and Scarwall lies Blisterwell. Blisterwell may be the largest single community of orcs in all of Golorian. If you don't stealth past, you could die on the battlefield overwhelmed by hundreds if not thousands of orc warriors."
He takes out a map (link). "See that purple line there? Everything north of that line is orc country." He shows you the gap in the mountains between the Kodar range and the Mindspin range (west on the map).
He takes out a larger map (link).
"That's your path, and you'd best tread it lightly. It's dangerous country."
"Even though it's in the heart of orc country, and a brilliant castle from all reports, it lies unused but guarded. The orcs fear it, and all who try to claim it as their own perish. It is said it was once used by the armies of the county of Tamrivena, now known as, ah, Canterwall in modern Ustalav to push the orcs back."
"The general however turned on his people and began his own reign of terror which lasted generations. I think some paladin ultimately felled him, but that was more than 800 years ago. At some point from then to now it became infested with undead - undead who rule there still."
"That's all I know, but if the entire orc nation can't take a single castle from their midst, I'd not hold out much hope for you - though you are powerful. If you're bound to go, go with caution."
He finishes tallying the items to be sold. He then takes out a fresh sheet of parchment.
"So, what will you be needing for your journey?"
"You weave an interesting history, Saul. Never knew you had that in you. A traveller, like ourselves, it seems." Barael eases a little, but his face still looks drawn. "The undead there. Do you have any further stories about abominations that abide there?"
"You weave an interesting history, Saul. Never knew you had that in you. A traveller, like ourselves, it seems." Barael eases a little, but his face still looks drawn. "The undead there. Do you have any further stories about abominations that abide there?"
"No sorry, nothing concrete. Just the whispers and rumors of time and travelers. The orcs would know more I should think - if you could find one willing to talk."
Briar listens to Saul's story and nods.
"Thank you for the sparks of history. Given time, I shall research further. While I do such, might you find these items for me?" Briar hands Saul a list.
Briar turns to the party.
"I shall need some time here in Kaer Maga to craft and pursue magical knowledges, including that of Scarwall. Can we agree on three weeks here? We have much to prepare for."
After we decide how long to enjoy the comforts of Kaer Maga (especially compared to Scarwall and Korvosa, the Elf will point out), Briar will look to find an Inn near the Mage's Moot (he 'purchased' entry last time we were here). From there, he will begin crafting using the facilities at the Moot.
Dandi nods slowly. "We should do what we can to prepare. We can't stay too long, but...research... new spells or magic or..." She shudders, rubbing her arms as if a chill wind had just blown through.