Session Thirty - October 8, 2005

[Matt]

Savor 8, 730 TR

The Selata II stands anchored at the Northhaven Wharf in Golotha as Dwilith Palliser breaks his fast at Palliser House, impressed with Bevan’s grand acquisition to a degree that perhaps diminishes his pleasure at his own surprise of the preceding day. The master pilot regales the party with tales of his long voyage, although in truth the journey had been relatively uneventful save for its marked financial success. He describes his decision to sell the old nivik and purchase a six-year-old, forty-eight foot dak at Parahel, affording for the shareholders a much greater burthen for carrying cargo and room for the occasional passenger. In addition to the new ship, they learn that Dwilith has retained a former royal marine, Laemon of Wesem, at Chelemby to serve in a security capacity aboard; the man speaks only a little Harnic but otherwise seems ideal for the task. Dwilith states his intention of spending as little time as possible in Golotha, as he is loathe to lose crew members to the numerous haunts and dens of the notorious city, and indicates his intention to set sail again on the morrow.

Bevan briefs Dwilith on their business in Avertu, and this is discovered to be consistent with his intention of sailing around the peninsula and up the west coast of the Gulf of Ederwyn to Aleath, and thence to Cherafir and on to points south of Harn. He plans to spend the day taking on a cargo of pottery and brasswares in the city, and expects to invest heavily in wool and linen while in Aleath. The pilot agrees to make arrangements for Sir Arlen and Ardeth’s shares of the profits from the previous voyage to be sent on to them, as well as notice of his own offer to buy out their shares in the ship at twice the current value of each share should they so desire. The party, meanwhile, sets about the sundry tasks of preparing for their departure at dawn tomorrow. Dascomb is ordered to remain behind at Palliser House, with Bevan overriding his predicable protestations. Ewen briefs his man Arnys regarding his anticipated absence, and pays him through the month of Ilvin. Similarly, Bevan and the others see to it that expenses for the house are accounted for through that same period of time. The autumn air already having given way to a foreboding wintry chill, the four travelers shop for extra woolens in the expectation of likely adverse weather to come.

Savor 9, 730 TR

Rising early, the party boards the Selata II, and dispositions regarding berths are worked out on the basis of precedence, with Bevan accorded one of the two large stern cabins in token of her status as owner of a full half of the ship’s shares. Bevan and Imarë reacquaint themselves with Rakir, the ship’s mate, and Netty, Dwilith’s apprentice pilot and meet Ballo the bosun. The dak draws away from Golotha in the early morning light, and the group leaves the stench of the city’s canals behind for the salt air of the open sea. The day is frigid with a steady but not very favorable wind however, and Dwilith narrows his eyes at the unseasonably cold weather as he goes about the business of getting the Selata underway. The group watches the shoreline fall away to their east while a number of merchant niviks ply the coastal waters, but otherwise find the routines of the ship quickly make for dull spectating.

Savor 10, 730 TR

The Selata II makes its way down the west coast of Harn, and the party note that they recognize some of the land features off to larboard from their previous sail to Selvos. The wind having turned favorably out of the north-west now, the ship makes good time southward as it passes a familiar bay and, by the end of the afternoon, reaches the straits which will carry them east and into the Gulf of Ederwyn. Off the starboard bow the island of Anfla can be made out, and Sir Baris is moved to recall the events of his youth where he served there under the future Earl of Techen, amidst the mass of troops mustering under the banner of a certain Prince of Melderyn, intent upon conquest. Dwilith breaks into the knight’s long reverie, pointing out to the party gathered at the ship’s rail the dangerous, rocky shoals to the east known as Agrik’s Cauldron.

Savor 11-13, 730 TR

Rain begins to fall during the ship’s traversal of the straits on the 11th, and by the morning of the 12th Anfla Island is far to their stern while numerous smaller islands are sighted off the starboard beam. The rain turns to sleet by evening, which coats the lines and deck with a glittering rime of ice, and Dwilith commences cursing the ill weather in earnest. Late on the following day, with icy rain still pelting the sails and deck, the shadowy square-sailed outline of another dak is sighted ahead of them to the east, but the courses of the two ships do not portend an encounter.

Savor 14, 730 TR

Cold rain and wind again today, but by noon the welcome vision of a bay off the larboard bow raises the spirits of the passengers and crew. The walls of Caer Avertu are eventually sighted, and Dwilith pilots the Selata into the bay, shortening sail and bringing the ship around to the wharf on the western side of the small harbor-front, and the crew scrambles over icy surfaces to tie her up to the dock. The only other ship in evidence is a forty-foot nivik, and the newly-arrived dak draws considerable attention and activity from the locals. Dwilith begins dealing with the harbormaster while Bevan spots two riders emerging from the keep in the rain, one man middle-aged and one man younger. The former dismounts when he reaches the wharf and strides over toward the Selata, his sword upon his hip and a look both earnest and officious upon his face. He introduces himself as Sir Rollo of Grasby, constable of Caer Avertu, and he asks of Bevan her business. She blandly relates the mercantile concerns of the Selata, the hope of purchasing linen in Avertu at some advantage over the prices in Aleath, and the constable seems mollified, although he inquires after anyone of rank who might be aboard. Sir Baris, having left his new plate armor as well as his knightly identity behind in Golotha, is not identified, and the constable contents himself with instructing the harbormaster to search the ship before he excuses himself. A discreet bottle later passed from Dwilith to the harbormaster makes this a perfunctory inspection at best.

Dwilith, expecting continued rain or worse from his examination of the skies, and reluctant to risk wintering in Avertu, is eager to complete his trade agenda and set sail that evening, so the party bids him a hearty farewell and inquire of the harbormaster regarding a place to stay. They are commended to the Jester’s End Inn, and make their way to a building boasting a grisly wooden sign with an impaled fool swinging above its door in the blustery cold rain. Upon entering the welcome warmth of a moderately crowded common room, they are greeted by Puren of Tavental, the proprietor, who draws them over to the fire and offers the promise of strong drink and hot food. Bevan introduces herself as Lena of Underwoode, and she names off Gordy (Imarë), Turpin (Ewen) and, naturally, the stalwart ubiquitous Karl. Grateful to have solid ground beneath their feet again, the foursome shrug off their mantles and warm themselves at the blazing hearth before moving to one of the free tables in the room.

The meal is hot and filling and the meat fresh, but the common room proves to be fairly dull for appetites sated in the stews of Golotha. Feigning piety, Ewen asks a pretty serving girl whether a Laranian temple might be nearby, and is given directions to Chendy Abbey, north of Avertu. He tips her a penny, two rooms are retained by the travelers for the night, and the party collapse in their beds, intending to break their fast early and set out for Chendy without delay in the morning.

Savor 15, 730 TR

Rising early, the party pack up their possessions and supplies and hurry out onto the road to Chendy. Glancing toward the wharf, they are unsurprised to see the dak nowhere in evidence. Pulling their hoods tight against the stinging, freezing rain, they trudge up the muddy road described by the serving girl, eventually pass through the village she mentioned, and take a fork in the road per her instructions. It begins to snow, and quickly the weather develops into a dense, heavy snowfall which makes discerning the road difficult as the unfamiliar scenery around them turns rapidly into a bleak, forbidding landscape of featureless white. The four travelers stumble on, thanking the gods for the forethought to have purchased the woolens while cursing the anomaly of a blizzard in Savor.

By mid-afternoon they reach the outskirts of the village of Chendy, however, the snow crusted thick upon their hoods and shoulders, ice in their eyelashes, and the welcome smell of wood fires burning and the first few ghostly lights from the outlying houses of the village hold the promise of warmth and food. The group pushes onward, crossing a frozen ford over a stream, and a few moments later find themselves before the sign of the Red Horse Inn. Hauling the main door open, they are greeted by the sights and sounds of numerous locals milling about the common room and a fire roaring upon the hearth. Nerthiad of Wisad steps up in surprise, astonished but pleased at the appearance of four weary strangers upon his threshold, with the blizzard roaring at their backs. Drawing them in and pulling the door shut upon the storm, Nerthiad brings them over to the fire and promises to return with ale and food.

Amongst the various local persons seeking communal warmth and camaraderie at the inn, a Laranian priestess is seen conversing with the innkeeper’s wife. She breaks away after a few moments to join the group at the fire and welcome them to Chendy. Bevan accepts her civility with good grace and introduces her three companions, employing the names used in Avertu, and indicates that the party had been hurrying through the storm in hopes of attending today’s Soratir at the Abbey. The Laranian, Mirelael of Travendy, shakes her head kindly and says that she is afraid no public service is likely to be held tonight due to the weather, as few would be likely to attend.

While they are speaking, a man from the village comes in, shaking snow from his clothing as he looks about. His eye falls upon Mirelael standing by the group, and he approaches with an air of anxious diffidence. He asks the Laranian to come away to attend to his ill wife, and the group learns that Mirelael is the assistant to the physician at the abbey as she agrees to leave with the poor man, bidding farewell to Bevan and her friends and inviting them to visit the abbey while in town. The party take seats at a table near the fire, order a hearty meal of fresh mutton accompanied by a strong, good ale, and take in the inhabitants of the room. Aside from the peasants seeking shelter, one fellow sits alone, exuding a cloying smell which reminds them of Boraga’s place of business. Later, a man of moderate height, dark hair, wearing brown garb of some decent value, enters and orders the roast kid. He later completes his meal by puffing thoughtfully upon a pipe, and Ewen eyes this approvingly before the group head off to their two rented rooms for the night.

The party slumbers uneasily in spite of their cozy rooms at the Red Horse, exhausted and troubled by the grim task which lies ahead of them. Outside their windows, the snow falls relentlessly as the distant baying of wolves reaches their ears, eerie in the dark, wind-swept night.

Savor 16, 730 TR

About a foot of snow having fallen through the night’s long hours, the weak dawn light reveals the village of Chendy blanketed under a continuing fall of light snow. After enjoying a hot breakfast, Imarë wanders out to the front of the inn, shivering as she pulls her cloak about her slender frame. She turns her keen gaze to the northwest where the abbey stands atop its hill, its cluster of buildings dominated by a small stone keep just south of the main abbey building. She observes a Laranian priest, bundled up against the freezing wind, venturing down the hill and into the village. He steers his course along the village track up to a cluster of peasant dwellings at the north side of the settlement, where he disappears from view for a time. The elf spends a while surveying the precincts of the abbey grounds from her distant post at the inn, and contemplates the long hedgerow surrounding the complex and the numerous outbuildings arrayed around the main temple building. After some twenty minutes, she observes the same Laranian from before, this time retracing his path through the village and back up the hill to the abbey in great haste. Meanwhile, much scurrying about has commenced in the northern portion of the village from whence he came, with peasants moving purposefully from house to house. A local man hurries past Imarë, glancing suspiciously at the stranger as he strides quickly past the inn and over the frozen ford, intent upon some urgent business.

The innkeeper himself emerges and comments upon Imarë standing so long outside, and the elf shares her puzzlement at the sudden activity among the villagers. Curiosity piqued, Nerthiad says he will investigate for himself, and walks over to a villager’s house and speaks for a time with the woman there. Returning with a frown of concern, he tells Imarë that one of the Laranian priests, in fact the very Mirelael whom the party met yesterday, has gone missing, and that the village is abuzz with concern that she might have been attacked by wolves last night and met with a bad end. The priestess apparently disappeared after treating the illness of the wife of the man the group saw in the common room last night. Nerthiad shakes his head, observing that Mirelael was well liked among the villagers. Imarë expresses due concern at this development, and while they are talking observes two men emerge from the abbey, one an elder male priest and the other a larger, middle-aged man, armed and helmed. They both stride down into the village and begin to search from house to house. She learns from the innkeeper that the priest is Father Edric, who is in charge of abbey security, but Nerthiad does not know the other man. Imarë comes in out of the cold to report the news to her three friends.

While the four travelers discuss these developments in the common room, a strange, hunchbacked little man enters, looks about nervously, and climbs the stairs to the floor above. He is dressed in rags, smells badly, and boasts a mangy-looking beard adorned with a scrap of something akin to salt pork dangling from his lip. Imarë, having gotten downright chatty with the innkeeper at this point, asks about the little man and is told that he arrived with the embalmer the other day, and that the two are evidently traveling together. The embalmer, presumably the other odiferous gentleman from the evening before, had apparently entertained hopes of acquiring some position teaching the novices upon the hill the art of embalming cadavers, but was flatly turned down for his pains.

By afternoon, with snow continuing to fall, locals begin to trickle into the common room, dejected in their fruitless search for the missing Matakea and firmly convinced that she has been slaughtered by wolves. The big news, though, is that a local man, Robyn, whose wife was treated by the Laranian prior to her disappearance, has been arrested and taken to the abbey under suspicion of murder, and the general consensus is that an injustice has been perpetrated.

Bevan and Ewen decide to visit the imprisoned Robyn’s wife, and she greets them with trepidation at first but becomes increasingly grateful when help is offered. She fears for the life of her husband, who is evidently an indifferent farmer at best. Robyn had offered to escort Mirelael home after the kindly priestess attended to his wife’s stomach illness the evening before, and his wife can not imagining he had anything to do with the poor woman’s disappearance, although she discounts the wolf explanation. Bevan thanks the wife, offers to lend assistance in exchange for the woman not mentioning their visit, and gives the wife two pence in sympathy for her troubles.

After touching base at the inn with Sir Baris and Imarë and eating some supper, Bevan and Ewen walk southward to the Peonian chapel later that night. Ringing upon the bell, they wait for a few moments, blowing upon their hands to warm themselves, before a middle-aged man in light green robes opens the door and beckons them in. His name is Father Eudaf, and he leads them down the aisle of his humble chapel and through a door to the right of the altar, offering them seats in a small kitchen area. He prepares herbal tea and searches considerately for honey while he speaks of his flock here in Chendy, listens to the travelers’ tale of their arrival during the blizzard, and bemoans the disappearance of the well-beloved Mirelael. Warming to his topic as he pours the tea, he describes the Serolan Milaka as a harsh woman who rides the peasants hard in their spinning of the local linen, checking in on them sternly, and brooking no laxity. This is evidently due to the crushing burden of £100 per year rendering she must make to the Bishop of Ternula at Korri, her own brother but equally under an unmanageable burden in the wake of the loss of prestige and influence which befell the family upon the overthrow of Andasin IV’s rule and the death of the Serolan’s uncle, the Earl of Sarkum. And yet Father Eudaf expresses hope that, in the end, this hard woman will show mercy in the case of poor Robyn, who he disbelieves had any responsibility for Mirelael’s plight. Father Eudaf knows little of the second, visiting Serolan at the abbey, aside from the fact that he came down from the north last month in need of spiritual guidance. He did bring a personal body-servant with him, a young man who is hard-driven by his master and takes immoderately to drink from time to time at the Red Horse Inn. They also learn from the Peonian that, due to the Serolan’s beleaguered fiscal situation, the abbey has been sparsely defended for some time. At the close of the interview, Ewen wonders whether Father Eudaf will attempt to visit poor Robyn in his imprisonment at the abbey, and the Peonian considers this an inspired idea, responding with enthusiasm and a plan to do so on the morrow. Bevan tells the priest that they will do what they can for Robyn’s sake, convinces the priest to remain discreet about their involvement, and arranges to return for a prayer service tomorrow in the interest of hearing Father Eudaf’s report of his visit to Chendy Abbey.

Overcast skies seem a relief to the party after days of unseasonable snow. Chatting idly with the serving girl at breakfast, the group learns that Terlin, a servant, comes in from the abbey occasionally, but few others venture down the hill to the Red Horse. She confides, however, that a friend of hers has been holding assignations with a novice from the abbey, who sneaks out at night and meets her at the animal pen behind her father’s house. The party briefly considers targeting this young man as a potential source of information about particulars at the abbey, and Sir Baris obtains directions to the house in question by flirting with the serving girl in the kitchen, but nothing comes of this plan.

Bevan and Ewen return to Father Eudaf’s chapel at four in the afternoon. The Peonian rushes through an abbreviated prayer service, dismisses his flock, and hurriedly draws the two travelers aside with news that the abbey chef disappeared the previous night, leaving his lantern and a pool of blood on the stones for his horrified brethren to find. Curiously enough, his own disappearance came after complaining of stomach pains while standing guard in the abbey chapel with some others, one of whom went to fetch the physician Torold. Impatient for the medic, the chef had wandered off in search of Torold himself, and the physician and a novice were the ones to find the blood and the lantern.

The Peonian goes on to describe an ongoing controversy in the abbey regarding a young mystic, Osric of Nedor, who claims holy visions, splitting the abbey into two camps: the skeptics and the believers in the mystic’s powers. Osric, apparently, has proclaimed the disaster befalling the abbey in the form of the two disappearances to be related to “the blood of Morgath”. Father Eudaf, stymied in his efforts to see Robyn during his trip to the abbey, also spoke with a visitor there, a man named Merrimam, who seemed interested in the vanishing of Mirelael and acted as if he had some foreknowledge of recent events. Father Eudaf gathers that the Serolan Milaka is furious at the recent developments, and has enlisted this Merrimam to assist the abbey in dealing with the troubles.

Returning to the inn, the four adventurers huddle in Bevan’s room and discuss the present situation. Their mission of assassinating the two Serolans has clearly been complicated by the general alarm at the abbey, and the other visitors to the town and abbey seem to be busily engaged in carrying out other agendas which remain tantalizingly inscrutable in the midst of the mysterious disappearances. Furthermore, the party members find themselves no closer to a feasible plan for murdering the two high priests after three days in the village, and they sense that their situation is becoming increasingly exposed and fraught with hazard. Pacing the room while the others talk, considering the question of how the recent developments at the abbey can be turned to their advantage, Ewen wheels upon them suddenly, a fresh light in his eyes and a wry smile upon his lips. Speaking softly and methodically as the others grow silent, Ewen outlines an audacious plan to subvert the very nature of their business in Chendy, and to bring the matter to a head at a single stroke.

Savor 18, 730 TR

Sir Baris and Imarë elect to remain behind at the Red Horse Inn in the event that Ewen’s gambit reaps disaster. Under the names Lena Underwoode and Turpin, Bevan and Ewen climb the hill to the abbey, their boots crunching across the ice-caked snow, and present themselves to the first Laranian, one of the priests, who greets them. Bevan acknowledges that she and her companion are stranded travelers and strangers to Chendy, but suggests that they are concerned about the recent troubles at the abbey, feel that they might be able to shed some light upon matters, and hope for an audience with the Serolan. The priest, Natan, admitting pained anxiety of his own regarding the present crisis, suggests that an audience may just be possible, and leads the two of them into the abbey to a council chamber dominated by a large table and many chairs. The priest departs, and Bevan and Ewen are left in silence after hearing the sound of the key being turned in the door’s lock.

After almost thirty minutes of tense waiting, the scraping of the lock again breaks the uneasy silence. The door opens to reveal Serolan Iblis Milaka, a stern, handsome woman who is beginning to show the age of her middle years. Another priest stands at her side, armed and armored. They enter the council room, close the door, and the Serolan demands to hear the identity of the interlopers at her abbey. Bevan gives her true name this time, which prompts Milaka to coldly ask whether Bevan is related to Sir Alric Palliser or to the ‘sorcerer’ Theron Palliser. Bevan admits that the former is her uncle and the latter her father, to which the Serolan responds with some disparagement of Sir Theron’s character. When Ewen gives his Ravinargh surname, the Serolan haughtily dismisses him as inconsequential, as the clan is unknown to her, and she pointedly directs her comments exclusively to Bevan at this point.

Iblis Milaka is rigid, harsh and menacing through the outset of the interview, threatening Bevan and Ewen from the start with the promise that, if they have come to waste her time during this crisis within her abbey, she will have them summarily hanged. Bevan indicates firmly that she comes to the Serolan with the intention of offering assistance, but Milaka cuts her off, observing that the advent of the recent disappearances, which have now become three in number with the loss of Father Edric last night, coincided with the arrival of the group at Chendy. She flatly suggests that she considers Bevan’s party the most likely suspects for this reason. She goes further, however, claiming that the arrival of Bevan’s party was actually foretold not long ago, and that the prediction had indicated that a great evil would arrive at Chendy abbey at the very time the party subsequently arrived. Ewen begins to speak but the Serolan peremptorily commands him to remain silent, scathingly dismissing him as a “lackey” with no clan and no leave by her to speak unbidden to his betters. Bevan objects, vouching with perhaps scant validity for Ewen’s station, and begins to embark upon a protest of the Serolan’s imputation that the group is at fault for the disappearances, pointing out the concurrent arrival of other visitors to the village at the same time. Ewen, however, fears that the Serolan has pressed her advantage and is throwing both Bevan and himself back upon the defensive. Further reasoning that, if he is shortly to be hanged, he might as well add speaking out of turn to the offenses, he breaks in and states plainly that the party arrived three days ago concerned with the career of the Serolan Barald Palgren.

Iblis Milaka pauses at this, drawing herself up and considering Bevan and Ewen with a frigid glare, and then dismisses the armed priest who attends her, holding out her hand silently for his sword, which he surrenders to her before departing. As the door clicks shut Milaka rounds on Ewen, her eyes now blazing, demanding to know what their specific business regarding Palgren might be. Standing his ground, Ewen briefly relates how the party met Palgren in Selvos in the course of investigating nefarious doings which bore similarity, perhaps, to those besetting Chendy abbey today, and that Palgren, misunderstanding the situation, had detained the group unjustly at the time. Milaka interrupts during this, sharply asking a number of times what Palgren had accused them of in Selvos, clearly working her way toward adducing a pattern of Bevan’s group being suspiciously in the wrong places at the wrong times. Bevan steps in and parries this thrust, admitting forthrightly that the party had been investigating Morgathian activity in Selvos. The Serolan demands incredulously whether the two are suggesting that Morgathians are at work against her abbey here in Chendy. Sidestepping this, Ewen hammers back at her, insisting that Palgren made a critical series of mistakes which led to his downfall and exile under her own roof, not the least of which was interference with Bevan and her companions in their work for the Crown. In making this point, it becomes clear to Bevan and Ewen that Iblis Milaka has little idea of the full reason for Barald Palgren being placed under her protection, and she expresses skeptical astonishment that she is being accused of harboring a traitor under her roof. Ewen demurs firmly at this, suggesting that no such accusation of harboring is being made, as she has presumably only followed the directives of her order, but quickly presses forward with the suggestion that the Crown’s concern with Chendy Abbey goes beyond that of the fate of Barald Palgren.

Serolan Milaka’s voice drops to a preternatural calm at this juncture, and she asks Bevan evenly what, exactly, her mission is at Chendy Abbey. Bevan indicates, quietly and precisely, that the assignment has two targets. Milaka looks aside at this, and observes softly, with a sense of caustic resignation, that “it has come to this.” At a number of points in the interview she has made reference to her noble lineage, and she does so again now, bitterly reflecting that she, who has lost so much, should be called upon to lose yet more. Ewen, dropping his voice to match the cadences of the subdued but composed Serolan, presses on with his argument, shifting now to the possibility that Bevan and he bring to her this morning: that she save herself by aiding in their mission to assassinate Barald Palgren, and publicly commit herself to the Crown as a means of, not just salvaging her career, but advancing it. He drives the point home by reminding her that she might dispose of Bevan and himself, and might fend off yet a second attempt by the Crown upon her life, but wonders aloud how long she might hope to survive in such a grim contest.

The Serolan Iblis Milaka, showing herself a woman to neither waver nor quail when faced with a difficult decision, is quick to seize the bait, and falls to bargaining with the two with all of her iron will regained. Sensing that the moment of crisis has finally passed, however, Ewen and Bevan feel their nerves settle a bit as they turn to the task of hammering out a bargain on the Crown’s behalf with this harsh but dignified priestess. The final agreement is suggested by Iblis Milaka herself: that in exchange for a recently vacated position of prominence in Aleath, she will undertake to publicly preach, on the occasion of each and every Soratir, three times per month, the theme of the absolute necessity and righteousness for Laranians of all stations to render loyalty and devotion to the present Crown of Tharda. She, whose blood is so mingled with the royalty of clan Kand and the former earls of Sarkum, will preach from her pulpit on behalf of Arren II of Tharda. Ewen quietly remarks that, as she has no doubt already considered, any retreat from such a resolution would inevitably return her to the exact plight with the Crown that she has faced this morning.

Bevan and Ewen seal the bargain with their oath to undertake, with all due speed, her transfer under the Crown’s aegis to the post in Aleath. In return, Milaka assures them that Barald Palgren’s fate is sealed. She declines any help from Bevan in dealing with the present troubles at the abbey, stating instead that she expects the group to remain at the Red Horse Inn only long enough to hear of Palgren’s fate, and thence to vacate Chendy with all due speed. She dismisses them at this point, stating her expectation of hearing news of her new appointment after no long delay.

Savor 19, 730 TR

The party waits at the Red Horse Inn throughout the day, gathering their belongings together for a rapid departure and anxiously awaiting news that their gamble has not been in vain. When a Laranian priest brings news to the common room of the inn that a visitor to the abbey named Barald Palgren went missing in the night, they know that they will depart Chendy at first light.

Savor 20-22, 730 TR

The foursome obtain directions from the innkeeper and strike out for Gimon Keep in the morning, traveling over muddy roads as the snow melts around them and arriving at the coastal settlement by late afternoon. The following day they reach Caer Torthan by evening. And on the 22nd, passing through Cuton and wending their way past a number of small Laranian abbeys along the road, they arrive at the city of Aleath by the end of the day. Checking into the Five Pennies Inn, Bevan is greeted familiarly by the proprietor, Pethis of Ajarsen, who fawningly welcomes her back to his establishment, offers the party two fine rooms, and settles the weary travelers down to a sumptuous dinner topped off with a bottle of excellent Palithanian wine. Relieved to find themselves back in civilized surroundings at last, the four adventurers retire for the evening in comfort, their thoughts turning to the Palace of the Red Domes in Coranan, and to an upcoming interview with Sir Auram Graver.