Previously, the heroes defeated Xarrombus and searched through the Newport vault. The day master elevated James to the position of the new night master for the guild of the Steady Hand, and the heroes made it out of the vault only to find that the empty Kingsport streets were covered in a blanket of snow.
Seventh Day, First Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262
(Silvermoon is waxing, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waxing)
The heroes made their way back to the Careless Wanderer, tired and sore. Most of them only had their beds on their mind, and the shortest route between the front door of the inn and the beds in their rooms. Astrid, still covered in slowly drying bits of Xarrombus’ viscera, asked whether a bath could be drawn up in the basement of the inn. Quentin decided to follow her example.
Earlier that day, Neamhan had arrived in Kingsport in search of the Heroes of the White Eye, after her request to speak to the crusaders had been denied by the knights of the Order of the Gryphon. She had travelled all the way from Gryphon’s Roost in the Silverpine Hills to Kingsport after receiving a missive from lord Edgar Tolliver. The missive read:
My lady,
Your appearance at Gryphon’s Roost and desire to speak with the crusaders has caused quite a stir. I disagreed with the decision by Dame Tamara, the knight captain who denied you the audience, but I would not have despatched this letter had it not been for the blatant lie that you were told. We all stand in the light of His divine truth, and we are taught not darken that light with duplicity and deception.
It is true that through His miracle some of the original silver crusaders were returned to us. The circumstances of this miracle are still neither documented nor understood, but we have come to believe that they are part of a chapter who were lost in a great battle during the Age of Fear. I have been working day and night, pouring over our records to corroborate their claims, and I believe them to be genuine.
I continue to be under strict orders not to allow any contact with the crusaders, nor divulge any further information about them. While I am not prepared to break my oath of obedience, I can tell you that not all of the crusaders returned to Gryphon’s Roost. Some went elsewhere. The chapter commander, prior Benedict McAllister, made his way to Kingsport, together with the Heroes of the White Eye, a curiously titled group of our contemporaries who played an important part in the miracle of the crusaders’ return. This might be another way to get the answers you seek.
May you walk in the divine Light of the Platinum Father.
Lord Edgar Tolliver, Knight Chronicler, Custodial Chapter, Order of the Gryphon
Now, Neamhan found herself at the Careless Wanderer, sitting at a table close to the hearth, watching the people she sought walk in. They were not what she had expected. Lauryn, the innkeeper, had struck up a conversation with her. Of aen cannel, or wood elf, heritage herself, Lauryn was surprised to hear that Neamhan was aen gwynt, or sky elf. She gave Neamhan a word of warning about the attitudes of some people towards elves. Neamhan decided to bide her time and wait for a better opportunity to speak to the heroes.
Luca, who was in his room getting ready for bed, was interrupted by a knock on his door. It was Magda. She told him that Wynn had claimed the inn to be “of winter”, and that he would not stand for Luca’s dragonling companion to remain. She had sternly reminded the quickling that the inn was to remain neutral and was a “signatory of the accords”, and that he was a guest in her home and she expected him to extend her the courtesy of a guest. Luca did not quite understand and was too tired to pursue the topic. Regardless, Magda thought that Luca should know that Wynn was out to cause trouble.
In the basement, Quentin found Astrid slumped into a wooden tub filled with steaming hot water, her legs dangling over the side. Soapy suds were all that stood between Quentin and Astrid’s modesty, and she seemed quite comfortable in that situation. Quentin slipped into a bath of his own and let the water warm his bones. The two briefly spoke. Quentin asked Astrid how she was feeling after her revival. She said she was feeling okay, and Quentin reassured her that he understood her desire to buy a boat, suggesting that he would understand that if she wanted to run away. To his surprise, Astrid assured him that when she got her ship, she would not be running towards something, not away from anything.
Neamhan secured herself a spot in front of the hearth to sleep for a few coppers. Lauryn explained to her that the inn had been overflowing with guests and that it was the best that she could offer. Lauryn produced a lumpy matrass made for canvas, filled with hay, which was only slightly better than sleeping on the sawdust covered floor. She listened to the gossip among the rest of the patron and learned that a lot of people had died in their sleep the previous night, while in the wider Kingsport environs people had woken up screaming, suffering terrible headaches.
Eighth Day, First Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262
(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waxing)
When the heroes started to trickle down into the common room the next morning, Lauryn made sure that Neamhan was seated at their table. When she noticed that Luca was ignoring his breakfast, she conjured up a couple of berries which she knew to be fulfilling and slipped one onto his plate. When the other heroes noticed she shared the remaining berries with the others and struck up a conversation.
During the exchange of some pleasantries, Neamhan managed to confirm one of the rumours she had heard about the Heroes of the White Eye; namely that one of them carried a sword upon whose scabbard flowers constantly bloomed and withered. Confident that she had found the right people, she started to ask more bold questions, about the how the heroes got their title of Heroes of the White Eye and of the crusaders they liberated from their curse.
When the heroes wanted to know why Neamhan was interested in the crusaders, she told them that she had left her tribe because it had been enthralled by a prophet named Oisín, an enigmatic elder who has been in hibernation since before the Age of Peace and is making claims that don’t ring true to Neamhan. One claim was that Neamhan’s magical abilities we’re granted to her by the gods, while she herself felt that her magic came from the earth instead. She felt that Oisín was trying to get her tribe to submit to the gods in a way that gave him more control over them and ultimate thought him a fraud.
Neamhan left her tribe in search of the truth. When she came across the story of the cursed crusaders, she felt that they might know more about the nature of magic, since they, like Oisín, hailed from a time before the Age of Peace, when the tide of magic was high.
The heroes each had their own theories on the origins of magic and that there were plenty of sources that could be consulted, like prior Benedict, the library of Ioun, or even the library at the Bournemouth Academy, which the heroes had previously searched for information on the Crimson Tower. The mention of the academy reminded Lauryn, who was nearby, that a letter had arrived for Luca. The letter read:
Dear Luca,
I have been following the exploits of you and the rest of the Heroes of the White Eye since your departure from Bournemouth several months ago. There are regular conversations among the professors and lecturers at the academy about the return of the crusaders, and the Faculty of Diplomacy and Statescraft has debated what would have happened if you had not revived the queen from her illness.
Personally, I hope to visit my home in Dunagore after the winter for a chance to talk to Ser Gregorian Longshadow, who I am told was among the liberated crusaders. Until that time, I have a long winter ahead of me, and I am eager to be of service. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to help.
Sincerely,
Falka of Dunagore
The heroes encouraged Neamhan to visit the Cathedral of the Platinum Father, which she promptly did. Unceremoniously, she got up and departed for Steward’s Square. She found the cathedral, but not without passing the crimson stained snow of a vicious battle, which she ignored.
The heroes did not ignore the carnage, and asked a group of crownsguard and custodians what had occurred. They told a tale of a fiendish being that called itself Epidemius, accompanied by ratmen, came through a portal and demanded that the Liber Bubonicus, the Book of Woe, be returned to it. The book was supposedly in the possession of the Upright Man and Epidemius would return with every cycle of the darkmoon until it was recovered.
In the meantime, Neamhan had found her way inside the cathedral and had been wandering around the enormous building. She had been admiring and despising in equal measure the ostentatious splendour of the cathedral when a cleric named Sartinius found her. He asked whether he could assist her in any way, and the had a brief conversation about the nature of magic, and whether all magic came from a divine source.
There was an awful lot that Neamhan had to learn and it was clear to her that it would not be a simple task to sort fact from fiction.
