"Um...yes? But this ain't no road or river. An' that's a... what is that, anyway?"
'This is our companion, Slaagh. But it's more the intent of the words, I think.' He argues.
Triath stares up at the guard.
"He won't cause any problems. We promise!" Frizz adds.
"Without him, we'd all be dead. Please, show some compassion," Lukas implores the man.
"Hmmph. Alright. It can come in, but you're responsible for anything it does!"
The gate-ward allows you in and bolts the gate behind you. Thornkeep is a rustic village built around a motte-and-bailey castle. There are few places where the lights are still one.
What's your plan?
The team spends a difficult two weeks in the Tors of Levenies, the low but very rugged mountain range that stands between the Greenbelt on the west and the more arid Dunsward to the east.
On the thirteenth day it is cold and threatens rain, but the prospect out over Lake Silverstep is so beautiful you hardly notice your own fatigue. There, in a long vale that winds back into the Tors, you come upon a grizzled gnome leading a heavily-laden mule up a slope. He eyes you with more curiosity than fear as you approach.
"Can't say as I 'spected to meet anyone on this side t'the lake today," he says. "You fellas lost? Or were you looking for ol' Miss Maisey here?" He pats the mule affectionately.
What's your plan?
Lukas asks the old man at the gate, "Any chance there's a priest of Erastil who lives nearby? Wymond was a dutiful follower of Old Deadeye."
Perfire sticks close by Wymond's side, intending to see to his deceased friend before attending to any personal matters.
"IBetThere'sSomeoneInThatCastleThatCanHelpUs!" Frizz exclaims as she takes in the sight.
The gate ward rubs his unshaven face. "Nuh-uh. There's two temples in Thornkeep. There's The House of the River Lord, that's for Hanspur, and there's the House of Battle, that's for Gorum. I'm all for Hanspur, but but big warriors like that fellow? Maybe Gorum?"
"IBetThere'sSomeoneInThatCastleThatCanHelpUs!" Frizz exclaims as she takes in the sight.
"Now listen, little mistress," says the ward. "You won't be going up there, if you heed my advice. The Baron don't want no truck with wanderers and vagabonds. You take my meaning? Stay away from the castle."
Perfire looks down to Triath for guidance. 'What do you think Wymond would want? Hanspur,' the halfing holds up his left hand 'or Gorum?' and holds up his right, waiting for the pig to indicate a preference.
Triath huffs a bit and looks towards Perfire's left, nuzzling it with his snout if Perfire lowers it down to his level. It makes a certain amount of sense: while Erastil had no special connection to the Water Rat, Wymond was a River Kingdoms man through and through, and Hanspur's own religious tenets were the River Freedoms he was fond of quoting. Plus, in his mortal days, Hanspur was a priest of Gozreh, a fellow nature god, the wild to Erastil's tamed, so even if the priests themselves could not help them, they may be able to point them in the direction of some druids who could.
"Well, the pig has spoken." After a brief pause, Lukas clarifies. "Figuratively, I guess. So, the temple of Hanspur, where can we find that?"
He points. "You go up into the town square an' take a left. You'll pass by the House of Battle and the Thirsty Ogre. Past the goblin bazaar. Then almost the bridge and take a right. It's at the end of the lane, down by the water."
"May the river carry you gently," he says, evidently a Hanspur devotee.
Lukas frowns in concentration as he recaps. "Town square, left. Goblin bazaar, take a right before the bridge. End of the lane, by the water. Our thanks, sir." Lukas nods appreciatively to the man.
Triath gives a polite head-bow to the guardsman and trots towards the directions they were given.
Frizz skips along anxiously as the party strolls into Town Square on the way to the temple.
"DoYouThinkTheGoblinsHaveAnythingGoodToBuy!?"
She stops mid jump and thinks aloud.
"Maybe we should get our money first? So we can afford to... ya know... make Wymond better?"
Nodding down at Wymond, Lukas says to Frizz, "I have to believe that even in a place as lawless as this, walking around shopping while carrying a dead body will be frowned upon. Let's get Wymond situated, shall we?"
'Unless this 'Hanspur' is a god of fleecing mourners, I should be able to cover seeing to Wymond's arrangements.' Perfire says, patting a jingling pouch on his belt.
Frizz looks mournfully down the side street towards the Goblin Bazaar, where torchlight sputters and sinister voices laugh gaily. The team marches on, carrying Wymond's body to the House of the River Lord. It is a ramshackle building with a noticeable lean, but it is clean and adorned with flowers left by the faithful. A plain wooden sign showing a rat walking on water proclaims it to be a temple of Hanspur.
Seeing no one about, you knock. Soon, a young woman answers, the large smile on her face dying away when she sees the corpse you bear. "Oh... I was expecting someone else. Do you need burial rites? I can't...um... help your friend."
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"No. We don't want to bury him. Is there anyone here that can help him? We've just come from the Spire and he got into it with this really horrible mage, but we took down the mage, but first he trapped my friend Lilika in a bubble, and then he tried to poison us, and then he shot lighting at us and then... well... Wymond here did all he could and he's probably the only reason we're all still alive and we only just found our new friend here and he barely knew Wymond, but Wymond saved me a bunch before we met Lukas..." Frizz blathers as tears start to well in her eyes.
"You poor dear! Uh... why don't you come in. You can lay him down in the chapel and we'll pray for some answers to your problem. And I can make a pot of tea. I'm Keeper Idara, by the way."
Inside, she lights a few candles on the driftwood altar. "Set him here," she says. "Rest and reflect on his life while I brew us some tea." She moves swiftly off into another portion of the temple.
As the Keeper rushes off, Lukas leans down to Perfire. "I think we're interrupting something, you know? Not that it matters to me, but I have no intent of letting her send us along just because she had date night planned."
Perfire looks up to Lukas and nods hesitantly. 'Perhaps we can make the necessary arrangements and leave her be for the evening. Whatever she has planned can surely wait for a bit of prayer and a brief, if thorough, discussion of our options.'
Triath gives a slightly indignant snort and nods at Lukas' assessment, before trotting over to the altar where Wymond's been laid and plopping himself down on the floor nearby, clearly not intending to leave his late companion's side.
Frizz kneels next to the driftwood altar and raises her hands to the heavens.
She pauses and leans over to Triath.
"Do you think this is working?"
Keeper Idara returns bearing a tray with a pot and several cups. "Now. Everyone have some tea. If you don't mind my asking... why is there a pig with you?"
'Triath,' The halfling gestures towards their porcine companion, 'is Wymond's guide in spiritual matters. He's very wise.'
Triath gives Frizz what can only be described as the porcine equivalent of a shrug. He smiles when Perfire introduces him.
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"That's some pig," Lukas chimes in. "Radiant."
Idara passes out the tea, which is aromatic and quite good.
"I've been thinking. There is no one in Thornkeep with the power you seek. Raising one from the dead is, well, very rare. You know it would be very, very expensive, yes?"
She sighs. "If anyone could do it, it might be in a bigger city. There are some temples downstream in Tymon or upstream in Hajoth Hakados where you might find someone who could do that. Haven't you any friend in Thornkeep who could help you?"
Frizz eyeballs Perfire as she recalls mention of Goldenfire Order... or was it Order of the Golden Dawn...
"Perfire has friends here! Right? Can Mister Wymond stay here while we go find his friends?" Frizz asks pleadingly.
"Ummm..." she says, looking at the boar in her temple.
"Yes. Yes, alright. Go and I will wait here with your friend."
Assuming the others depart to look for the Goldenfire Order's headquarters, Triath remains by the altar, a model of quiet politeness.
Perfire stutters and stammers as the group makes their way from the shrine, finally able to spit out what he'd been trying to say a good distance from the priestess. 'I-I-I wouldn't exactly call them friends. Acquaintances? Employers... kind of? And I don't know them well enough to say whether they'll render us aid returning empty handed as we are.'
Frizz smiles a wide grin as she produces Klarkosh's spell book from her bag.
"Who says we're empty handed?" She says as she casually flips through the spellbook, not really understanding what she sees.
Lukas nods impressively at Frizz. "Nicely done! You think that could be worth getting Wymond back?"
After asking directions, the team returns to the town square and, turning north, finds themselves in short order at Goldenfire Tower, a thin spire east of the castle and set back from the hubbub of the town. A single dimly-lit door is the only opening into the tower.
'I'd forgotten the spellbook! Yes, that should give us a bit of leverage.' Perfire approaches the door and knocks hesitantly.
The door swings open just as Perfire raises his hand to knock. Inside, there is a fairly normal parlor with chairs around a tea table. One wall is hung with a painting of a dragon breathing fire onto an unlucky fortress.
Moments later, an elegant elven woman arrives She looks no older than a young maid, but who carries herself with the dignity of someone far older. Perfire has met her once before. This is Iliara Starcloak, mistress of the Dragonfire Order.
She smiles, and the impression of age all but disappears in the sunny grin of a young woman. "Master Perfire! How glad I am to see you alive and well. It has been so long I admit I had lost hope of seeing you again at all. But I do not see Yirrik or Zaia or Wymond. Are they well?"
Frizz ducks past Perfire and turns her head every which way to take in the room.
"Oh no, they're not. At least, Wymond isn't well at all. He actually died. And I'm not sure who Yurruck of Zaya are but I'm sure they're fine. I'm Frizz and we're here with Lukas to come ask for your help with Wymond."
She jerks a thumb at Lukas and looks up at the elf with pleading eyes.
"Do ya think you can help us?"
"please"
Iliara looks down at Frizz, raising one perfectly angled eyebrow, meeting her gaze with ice blue eyes that reveal nothing of what the elf is thinking. "I suppose you'd all better come in and explain yourselves." She steps back and waves to the chairs.
"Begin with who you are, and what happened to Wymond and then tell me how you think a group of wizards is going to be able to help you with your problem."
"Wymond was a good man," she says. "But I have no power over death. Nor, to my knowledge, does anyone in Thornkeep."
Lukas decides it's worth butting in. "Wymond fell in battle against a wizard by the name of Klarkosh. Any chance he's known to you? He claimed to have the two of your order prisoner, Jharun and Tiawask, that I was seeking. We defeated him, but at the cost of Wymond's life. However we saw no sign of those two."
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Perfire coughs lightly before speaking softly, eyes on the floor. 'I'd do anything to get Wymond back, trade anything. Belongings, freedom, my life, anything. When we met I was afraid of everything. I was afraid to talk, afraid to choose, afraid to live my life.' Small tears spatter at his feet as he goes on in a steady voice. 'He always believed in me and pushed me to be free of anyone. Without him I'd either be back in chains or under some other tyrant's boot. Whatever it takes, he has to come back.'
Raising his tear-streaked face he meets Iliara's gaze directly, a rare act for Perfire. 'The River Kingdoms will be worse without him.'
Iliara regards you levelly. "I will not tell you that death is a part of life, for you know it all too well. But I will tell you that the Dragonfire Order does not have the power you seek. Even if I could, the Judge of the Dead does not give up her charges lightly. Petitions to the court of Pharasma are very costly. How would you afford it? While I perceive your pain, we are not a charitable, nor a rich order."
Frizz pauses as she takes in her companion's grief.
"We have this spellbook for a start. I hear that's worth something to someone." She says as she produced Klarkosh's spellbook from her bag.
"What else would Pharasma want?" Frizz ponders aloud.
Lukas tries to appeal to Illiara. "Ma'am, even if you can't do it yourself, can you think of any way to help us get this man back? We can't do it without him."