Gabriel's fate

We searched the body of the victim and found a holy symbol of the Silver Flame, some money and an expensive Darkweave cloak. Also identification papers that reveal him as Gabriel ir’Davarask of Wroat, Breland. A careful search of the cloak revealed a letter stitched into the lining. We had time to search ir'Davarask and the unconcious form of our attacker and to read the letter before the local constabulary arrived. If I ever want to murder someone I will definitely bring them to Bloodfall.

Friends
Excuse this hastily scribbled note. It was my intention to inform you of the specifics of the job during our meeting at The Five Ravens, however, as you are reading this then the situation has gone poorly for me. You must trust to the information revealed herein; the lives of many good folk - and the soul of a great man - depend upon my mission’s completion: a task that is now appointed as yours.

I shall be as brief as possible. Within the sunken crypts south of Bloodfall I have hidden an artifact that belongs to a great man, once of Cyre, now relocated against his will to Starilaskur Asylum. The artifact appears to be a fist-sized emerald, glowing with an inner light, but is altogether more than this, containing as it does the memories of a man known to a handful of watchers – yourselves now included – as Zanilath d’Cannith.

Yet there are others that wish to claim Zanilath’s memories – memories that relate directly to the fall of Cyre and the events relating to what happened on The Day of Mourning. I don’t doubt that your path will be shadowed, hence my decision to hide The Eye of The Last Hour in a place no-one would ever think to look for it. If I have fallen then my notion to do so has been proved correct. The artifact must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.

I bid you venture to the sunken Bloodfall Church, recover the gem and take it to Starilaskur Asylum. Beware the guardians of the crypt which I inadvertently stirred with my passage, they now unknowingly defend something far more valuable than the bones of those long gone.

Be ever watchful, friends.
Gabriel ir’Davarask.
Guardian of Truth

It seems that we have a place to search. Hopefully we will raise enough money to at least get us to the nearest city.

Cajole in action

No time had passed as we emerged from our trance. Before we could even begin to ponder what had happened a deep, male voice suddenly rose from the shadows of the building to our left. “It’s a fell night, to be sure. The unwary traveller should be cautious.” he said as the black robed figure stepped into view, his face partially hidden by a Dhakaani death mask, and his steel boots scraping over the cobblestones.

He crossed the street to the corpse “This poor fool took undue risks,” he said, flicking his glittering gaze from the inert body at his feet to meet your own eyes. “It remains to be seen whether you’ll greet the dawn as fools yourselves or think better of such a pitiful end and head back the way you came. Take a step forward and I assure you – with no hint of humor – that your souls will find a rapid passage to Dolurrh should you interfere here tonight.”

Indeed, there was no humor in his voice, and the practiced way he held the bloodied steel mace in his right hand seemed to attest to the man’s confidence in his own ability. However I had not wandered all over Khorvaire without picking up a few skills of my own and it seemed as if my companions had their own ideas about being threatened.

In the blink of an eye three of us had drawn bows and released arrows at the villain. Cajole was charging wide from the left and reached him an instant after my arrow caught his shoulder. One swing of her hand and a half sword was followed up by a wicked kick to the groin. He was down and unconscious before we'd even notched our second arrows.

I think of all of us I was the most surprised. I had travelled with Cajole for nearly a whole season since finding her in the Mournland. We'd never got into a situation where we'd had to fight before and Cajole had always been quiet. She is deferential to the point of shyness and comes across as unsure of her own abilities. I had always assumed that she had been constructed for combat but had never been in action. Yet, here she was, moving with the confidence and power of a trained warrior. Truly I shall not underestimate her again. She has proven herself to be a valuable ally.

Entering Bloodfall

As we walked into Bloodfall the faintest breeze stirred a few ragged clouds across the midnight sky. The moons gave enough light to see by even without the everbright fountain in the town marketplace. Despite the muddy streets I felt at peace in this small town. Perhaps it had something to do with the scent of night bloomed jasmine that reminded me of home. The marble centrepiece of the town plaza was a bit overdone in my opinion. Obviously the town was doing well and they wanted to show off their wealth.

We spotted The Inn of Five Ravens opposite the fountain. It was larger than I imagined and looming tall against a backdrop of duskwood and oak trees that border the hamlet on its western edge. Just then the church bell rang out the hour of midnight. The spell must have been broken for I was becoming quite enraptured with the place. The toling of the traditional Sovereign Host bell peel for midnight mad me look up and I saw a corpse lying sprawled upon the stones.

As we moved forward to investigate our vision suddenly shifted and it seemed for a moment that we were looking through a window of a theatre:

She comes forward dressed in silken shadow, the illumination from the twin braziers either side of the archway revealing her in all her terrible beauty.

She is Sumara, the Scarlet Bitch, one-time handmaiden to The Daughters of Sora Kell, now ascended to a position at Incandevarus’ side.

“I hope for your sake that you bring more information on these four than the last lackey you sent to whine beneath me.” Incandevarus smiles, black lips peeling back over needle sharp teeth. “He carried a…bitter taste.”

“Nevertheless, you must enjoy the piquancy; he’s the fifth servant of mine you’ve eaten in a week.”

“You have a surfeit of messengers, Sumara.”

“But as their numbers dwindle, we lose the capacity to report on events of interest.” Sumara’s eyes narrow, she bites at her painted lip.

“You’ve no lessons for me to learn, woman.”

“Yet I have the information you wish to hear… dragon.”

Incandevarus rises in his great obsidian throne. “I could parley with you for a year and not tire of it. Truly…you are a bitch.”

Sumara shakes her head. “Correction: I’m the bitch.”

“Then tell me of the four; have they become the Bound Quartet?”

Sumara appears to hesitate momentarily, her eyes drifting to the floor. “The… binding is in progress, even as we speak.”

“Good, good,” Incandevarus murmurs. “…and do we now know their names; all their names?

The idiot who last graced my gullet knew too little, yet spoke to me as though he equalled my intellect.”

“Then he was truly a fool,” Sumara replies coolly, and then, on her next breath: “Their names are known to us; everything is coming together. The planes are aligned as written and the four have come forward. We must watch events closely.”

“They will come to us, in time,” Sumara says assuredly. “And we will pick the truth from between their bloodied bones.” For a moment only her delicate features slip, the perfect illusion of beauty flickering to reveal the canker beneath. In the next instant the beauteous smile is returned, a lure that has broken (and will continue to break) hearts, once witnessed…

We didn't have time to ponder this though...

An uneventful journey

The letter from Gabriel ir’Davarask contained permits to get us from Sharn all the way to Bloodfall. Fortunately they were valid for only a short time so I managed to convince Jhaire and Kaith to leave the next morning rather than spending several months making sure everything was in perfect order. Sometimes travelling with elves can be a chore.

We boarded the Lightning Rail at Sharn and travelled through the night towards Starilaskur. We departed the shared rooms on the coach just after dawn at Faith's Leap where a House Orien coach was waiting for us. I played the part of the arrogant elf lord to the hilt as I suspected that the coach man will continue past Bloodfall. I really don't want anyone looking too closely at the real me.

Indeed the House Orien coach left us at a small ticket office at the main road into town. We had to walk with our luggage. I made a suitable fuss as was no doubt expected. Then we set off on foot to find the Inn of Five Ravens.