The Journal of Pen ir'Embrace

Visions II

2006-12-19T00:21:00.000Z

Looking deep into the well water I witnessed the swirling that Kaith had described. Suddenly it seemed as if I was transported into another place.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of a cowled figure, dressed entirely in scarlet robes. As though sensing my scrutiny the figure raised a hand and lowered the cowl, revealing a beautiful human face that, even as I watched, became a thing of mockery, losing all semblance of humanity. “You’re mine,” the once beautiful lips mouthed as the wrinkled flesh of the woman’s face became ever more corrupt. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

How strange! Was this some kind of scrying device or perhaps a means to predict the future. Mayhap it was some kind of magical warning. Obviously we to continue to examine the waters was our only option

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of a mortuary, filled with corpses laid out upon cold, steel plinths. All manner of exotic implements hung from chains upon the ceiling. Some of the corpses appeared to have been experimented upon and as the scene moved closer to one of the tables, I recognised one of the figures as myself, still alive and bound to the plinth by iron manacles. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Very disturbing to say the least. It was possible that the well was cursed in some way to present the worst fears to the watcher. However, for fear of missing some vital clue we decided to look further.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of leathery, black wings unfolding in the darkness. Droplets of yellow acid splashed at my feet as I looked up into the penetrating gaze of large reptilian eyes staring down at me. “Poor mortal fool,” the Dragon intoned. “I see your fear. You have the eye of the last hour, the unblinking moment when the realisation of your place in the scheme of matters suddenly dawns upon you. Now, you understand the truth. And you will weep.” The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Perhaps some hint of a Draconic Prophesy then? Perhaps nothing? Either way we resolved to take refuge in the upper rooms of the old church and ponder these visions over a spot to eat.

We made our way up to the damaged room discussing the images we had seen as we went. Once we arrived Jhaire decided that she should keep a watch while the rest of us ate. I thought this foolish but without her paranoia she would not have spotted the wonderous blade lodged high in one of the old alcoves.

Jhaire pronounced it a weapon most suiatable to battle the forces of Dolurrh, the Realm of the Dead.

Visions

2006-12-17T16:55:00.000Z

We reached the end of the corridor through an ornate archway into a chamber of worked stone 60 feet square. An identical arch, sculpted as though angelic figures were rising from the ground, stood in the centre of the wall opposite. Flickering torchlight, a pale azure that washed everything in a chill, sombre color rose from three braziers inset in the walls. Someone obviously kept these torches burning. Someone who was not undead.

A wide well with a low ringed wall of chiseled stone lay in the centre of the chamber, and the light from the torches reflected the stagnant water within up onto the ceiling overhead. Trailing ivy ran the length of the walls and the uneven floor was awash with runoff from the numerous cracks in the ceiling that dripped with an ominous echo all about us.

Cautiously we crept forward to examine the well. Kaith pointed out that all manner of monsters could lurk in such places. She was the first to look down into the waters. As she did she suddenly froze as if caught in a hypnotizing gaze. Before any of us could react she jerked back. He cries of "Spider, a huge spider" had us leaping to attack but she quickly explained that she had seen the spider in a vision seen from the waters below.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant she saw an image of a huge, bloated spider rearing up on its legs. With a swiftness that belies its size, the spider lunged forward. As the spider drew back, she saw that a body lay in its jaws, and as its head tilted back, she saw that the body was hers, her eyes gazing lifelessly up at the cavernous ceiling overhead as the spider retreated into its webbed lair with its prize. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Curious, I thought to see for myself what the waters would show me.

Confidence

2006-11-20T09:59:00.000Z

Moments after dispatching the skeleton the sound of more could be heard from below. Jhaire and Cajole wordlessly stepped back from the doorway to flank any of the creatures as emerged from the doorway while allowing Kaith and I clear shots with our bows. The action was so smooth and natural that I could swear that we had practiced it for years. When the next skeleton appeared it was broken apart by my crossbow bolt and Kaith's arrow before Jhaire or Cajole even moved.

Fearing more undead Jhaire then moved to the top of the stairs. She had lengthened the chain that she wore around her neck that carried a strange sort of medallion. I later learned that the intricately carved amulet was her family crest. Apparently the Aerenal use similar symbols to focus their thoughts when attempting to channel the divine energy of their ancestors. This was the first time I had taken any real notice of her "holy symbol" as I had expected all such devices to be of uniform appearance. I follow the teachings of The Traveller and His symbol is always the same. The same goes for the Dark Six, the Sovereign Host and even the Blood of Vol religion of Karnath.

Jhaire moved cautiously down the steps with the rest of us following close behind. I have keen ears, nearly as keen as an elf, and listened intently for sounds of more skeletons. Cajole's lantern provided enough light to see by for, although I had taken the appearance of an elf, I lacked the ability to see in the shadows that they had. Moments later we entered a corridor and were confronted with a pair of the animated bodies. Rather than destroy or drive them away with her powers Jhaire chose to strike them down with her longsword. Of course, we joined the fray and they were cut down in the space of a dozen heartbeats.

So far we had not received even a scratch from the undead. I think their lack of intelligence and slow reactions were allowing us to destroy them before the magic animating them could register our presence. Even Jhaire was conserving her Ancestor Faith granted powers by fighting them rather than turning them. I'm certain that we grew overconfident which is when we received the first real surprise of the night.

Undead

2006-11-02T15:33:00.000Z

Having entered the church we proceeded directly along the aisle towards the altar, or rather where the alter would be. Call it instinct but for some reason I decided to hold back and remain unseen within the clutter of the broken pews and many shadowy corners. I'm sure this would be considered fortuitous by even the most jaded for, no sooner had my companions reached a stairway at the rear of the church, a loud the grinding of iron echoing with the weight of something could be heard. Some wicked creature was no doubt ascending from the depths below.

Kaith found a secure and hidden location to snipe from while Jhaire and Cajole remained standing at the doorway with weapons drawn. For a moment nothing happened and then Jhaire recoiled slightly as if exposed to a foul odour. Moments later my guess proved accurate as one of the walking dead emerged from the darkness of the stairway. It was a skeletal creature dressed in rags that were caked in mud. I guessed that it was one of the recently exhumed dead from the church graveyard and not the body of a soldier or guard. It certainly carried no weapons and wore no armour.

During the Last War I had fought several types of undead creature. Most often these were Karrnathi Zombies and Skeletons. The flesh and bones of these creatures were always treated with some kind of alchemical substance that slowed the rate of decay and toughened the flesh and bones. In addition Karrnath saw fit to equip the dead soldiers with much better quality weapons and armour than their living soldiers. They said that even the Karrnathi dead rose again to defend their nation. They called them the Risen and I hated them.

A single skeleton stood little chance against the combined blades of Cajole and Jhaire. Cajole always seems to come alive when in combat and exhibits a degree of grace in her movements that belie her armoured form. Jhaire fought the creature with a fury that I had not seen in her before. It would seem that these sombre elves are passionate in their hatred of the undead.

Exploring in the swamp

2006-10-24T08:43:00.000Z

We scouted out the area surrounding the church and discovered a number of other dead bodies. I believe that they were the bodies of bandits but they could have been merchant guards. Unfortunately I fell foul of a natural trap that sprayed me with some kind of itchy spores when I was searching a body. Disgusting. Also very itchy. We also encountered a hideous aberration known as a carrion crawler. Fortunately we were able to overcome the beast before it could kill one of us with it's poisonous tentacles. I have heard legends of these monstrocities that tell of them using their poison to incapacitate foes before devouring them. This is not something I wish to experience first hand.

Having completed our scouting as best we could it seemed only prudent to begin our exploration of the sunken church itself. The church looked derelict and appeared wholly unsafe. The tower had fallen away to lie in rubble among the trees. The tiled roof was shattered in many places and had collapsed upon itself. The swampy environs had claimed the building entirely, the ground giving way so that the church had sunk partially into a bed of reeds and unstable land, the remnants of the building leaning at such an angle that it appeared it may keel over at any given moment.

In fact, the only feature of the church to have escaped the dereliction is the entrance itself, the vast, engraved stone arch housing a pair of heavy oak doors that lay ajar as though still welcoming the pilgrim or weary traveller. What were we to do but accept this invitation and enter the formerly holy environ. I feared what we would find however.

As we began to enter I noticed how dark the entrance was as the only light seemed to be from the twilight that filtered through the trees surrounding the church. Unlike the elf that I posed as I could not see well in the dark. Fortunately Cajole came to my rescue once again. Her artificial eyes had no better night vision than my own and we decided to light our lanterns.

A continuous stream of water was running off from the elevated marsh-land that had claimed the church, sluicing down the steps and disappearing between the cracks in the stoneslabbed entry-way ahead of us. The interior of the church was much as you might expect, to judge from its ruined exterior. The roof overhead was holed in many places, and shafts of light filtered through upon the fine marble pews that sat in rank either side of the central aisle. The iron stairwell that once led up to the bell-tower overhead lay twisted and broken, leading nowhere. At the far end, beyond the fallen pulpit stood another set of iron stairs that wound down, presumably, to the church crypts. All that remained of the altar was a pile of rubble.

Breakfast and a walk

2006-06-28T17:24:00.000Z

The next morning we set off at a brisk walk for the old church. We left later than planned as Flimbarji staff included some very good cooks and I was enjoying my smoked cod breakfast with fried new potatoes. Apparently it is all a local speciality. They sprinkle chopped parsley and garlic leaves over the potatoes and drizzle it with hot butter. Delicious.

Forgive me but I have been travelling for four years and surviving on rabbit, berries and trail rations for most of that time so a good meal is something of a luxury for me. The last few months on Aerenal did little to quench my culinary requirements. Apparently the bland food they serve there is 'subtle'. That is apart from the food that is downright frightening. Until you've had to drink pomegranate juice mixed with beetle essence from the shell of a giant beetle you won't know the horror of a traditional elven meal. Give me potatoes any day.

Back to my tale. We set off on foot to the old church and could clearly see it through the sparse trees. I had packed an oilskin bag with some spare fish and was discussing the benefits of being able to eat with Cajole, our 'forged companion when Kaith silenced me. Ever the warrior she said that she had heard a noise. Well what was a changeling to do but join the scouting party? We decided to look around the church grounds before entering the crumbled old building itself. We didn't want to get caught by bandits or something worse with no way to escape.

What we discovered was quite horrific. At the site of the old graveyard we found many empty tombs. Coffins had be opened and the bodies stolen. We feared that some foul necromancer had visited recently. Indeed the earth was freshly turned so we knew that someone had been here within the last few days. Having fought the Karrns in the Last War I have a particular dislike of necromancy and the undead. However I was not afraid. True, they are tough to destroy but common undead lack even basic intelligence and are easily fooled.

The Inn of Five Ravens

2006-06-14T09:27:00.000Z

The Inn of the Five Ravens turned out to be a delightful little establishment. It wasn't run or licenced by House Ghallanda and didn't have their distinctive herald anywhere in the building. I was initially quite nervous of staying in an unrecognised inn but it is always better than roughing it.

My apprehention was for nothing. The innkeeper Flimbarji was very gracious, even for a gnome, and had us settled in no time. He helped to carry our baggage dispite having suffered the loss of his left arm, presumably in the Last War, and he made use of an interesting prosthetic stave.

I had a very long conversation with Flimbarji, who belongs to the Treblefoot clan in northern Zilargo, and found out a little about the history of Bloodfall and the founding families.

It seems that two families formed the town about six hundred years ago but both lines have now died out. The old church holds there remains and the crypt is supposed to be divided into two: One half for the Arkaster line and the other for the Gavarist line. We decided to set off for the church at dawn but I'll be sure to look around the shops when we return.

Gabriel's fate

2006-05-30T09:52:00.000Z

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

2006-05-16T10:32:00.000Z

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

2006-05-12T11:26:00.000Z

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

2006-05-02T14:26:00.000Z

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.

A letter from Gabriel ir'Davarask

2006-02-16T12:16:00.000Z

We were settling down for an evening repast in one of the many tower restaurants in Sharn when a House Orien courier approached our table. He handed a letter to Jhaire, probably because she is dressed in the most expensive clothing. I've copied it out for all to read.

Friends

As your names are known to me, I feel it prudent to offer you mine: Gabriel ir’Davarask.

I doubt whether the name means much to you. In truth, I have conducted my business, by necessity, in the shadows. It is here that a great deal of the rebuilding work of Khorvaire takes place; amongst the foundation stones, so to speak.

In retrieving this message you have taken your first step in aiding the cause that the common man has fought for generations.

I ask you to take another step and complete your journey. Your assistance is greatly required in the hamlet of Bloodfall, in the eastern reaches of Breland. All required documentation has been prepared for your travels – a journey that will take you across the nation by lightning rail to Faith’s Leap, west of Starilaskur, where you will be transferred to House Orien coach, arriving at Bloodfall during the first week of Lharvion.

I trust to your faith in boarding the lightning rail. Although I cannot – for obvious reasons – detail specifics as to the nature of your employment, I can tell you two things. First, your time and efforts will be handsomely rewarded, even should you wish to decline my offer when we meet. Second, and most tantalisingly, I can assure you that revelations will be uncovered by your hands; the truths you uncover will usher in a new age of glories to our troubled nation.

I will remain in Bloodfall, at the Inn of Five Ravens, for two weeks and await your company.

I’m certain the questions you prepare on your travels will find their answers within the Inn of Five Ravens.

I extend my thanks, in appreciation of your time, and my hopes, for us all.

Gabriel ir’Davarask
Guardian of Truth

Well, as you know, Starilaskur is significantly closer to The Mournland than Sharn is and my ruined country is where I want to get to. It seems that we have an opportunity to earn a few Crowns in the process of helping someone.

The Journey to Sharn

2006-01-28T20:11:00.000Z

We rode to the port city of Pylas Talaear over a few blisteringly hot spring days. It was good to get away from the dusty halls of Shae Cairdal and the sombre Deathless. I know the city is the capital and is ruled by the Sibling Kings but the small part that I was permitted to see just seemed to be filled with Deathless. Apparently the Jhaelian family use some kind of alchemy to appear like the Deathless. I know that they all act like them with their preoccupation with perfecting themselves.

Maybe elves in other families are more inclined to art or dance as I've always heard elves were but they Jhailian's are just plain dull. Of course it doesn't help that I was practically locked up while I was there. I know the elves didn't see through my disguise but that Ascendant Counsellor must have. It was frankly a relief to get back to the hustle and bustle of a proper city even if Pylas Talaear is mostly lumber yards and merchants' villas.

I left the arrangements for travelling back to Khorvaire up to Kaeth. She at least seems to know what she's doing. She got us passage on an elemental galleon, one of House Lyrandar's older vessels. It seems that she is a fair sailor as well. Not as skilled as me but then I had to work my passage to Aerenal in the first place. It was the first time I'd been aboard an elemental ship and they move a lot faster than the usual kind. We travelled the 3000 miles from Pylas Talaear to Sharn in less than a fortnight and even stopped over at Pylas Maradel in Valenar for fresh food and water. Amazing!

The final leg into Sharn was a sight to behold. The city itself is situated atop the impressive cliffs of the Hilt and the towers seem to stretch up for miles. It was a clear spring morning when we coasted into the Dagger River and we could even see the famous floating towers of Skyway.

Of course arriving in Sharn without a silver sovereign to our names wasn't much fun. I'd forgotten to change my coinage from Aerenal tyl to standard Galifar currency. I think I'll start collecting coins from different countries. I'm pretty sure that Breland put their King Boronel on the coins now and I know Kaius III is on Karrnath coinage.

Luckily the Jhaelian family are well connected and managed to find our way to the Aerenal consulate. We did get a little turned around which seemed to upset the elves no end but I had to laugh. It's good to be back in a real city. Jhaire and Kaith's cousin Mayne Jhailain sent us to the ambassador Lady Taelira who treated us to a sumptuous meal and board for the night.

No sooner had we settled in though than we received a message from someone known as Gabriel ir'Davarask. No sooner do we arrive in Sharn than we leave for Bloodfall. As the elves say "mes air jhori" or such is life.

Waiting for Elves

2006-01-27T15:55:00.000Z

By the Five Nations my patience is being tried! The Deathless matriarch of the Jhaelain family ordered us to go to Khorvairre and retrieve the remains of the fallen elves a month ago. We are still sitting around waiting. I've discussed this with Cajole but she won't say anything. I've tried talking to Jhaire but she just keeps going on about reforging her sword again. Kaeth (I've shortened her name) at least shares my dsire to get going and seems to have everything ready. In fact she seems to carry everything she needs with her. I really can't see why we don't leave straight away.

Well while we're hanging around I've been looking in the library. There really isn't much information about the destruction of Cyre but I can honestly say that this doesn't surprise me. I still think that we need to go back to find any answers. At least the elves don't seem to be afraid of the Mournland like most people of the Five Nations.

The Meeting

2006-01-27T13:13:00.000Z

Today was strange. I've been following a lead about a possible cause of the Mourning and it led me to the elven continent of Aerenal. I was trying to explore the library in Shae Cairdal while my warforged companion kept an lookout. All of a sudden a whole troop of elven and deathless guards comes in and marches us off for a 'special meeting'. Fortunately I have been keeping my disguise as Dylania d'Phiarlan up for weeks now and we hadn't broken any laws. At least none that I knew about.

I don't know what is wrong with these elves but they certainly have strange ideas about waiting. It felt like a month before Cajole and I were summoned to a throne room to meet the so called 'Head of the Family'. I've been introduced to a few heads of families before and in my experience they usually end up being crime bosses.

It turns out that the head of the Jhaelian family is a little more than a crime boss. He's some sort of God or member of a pantheon or something. Apparently he is one of the original elves who fled to Aerenal from Xen'drik 38,000 years ago. Amazing.

I'm pretty sure he could see right though my disguise but he kept it to himself so I've got to give him some dues. He wants me to go back to Khorvaire with two elven sisters and retreive the bodies of some elves for him. I don't mind this too much even if I can't see the point and the extra help will be useful. I want to go back into the Mournland again and investigate Metrol.