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 Online Session Recap - 28.11.2018

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PostSubject: Online Session Recap - 28.11.2018   Online Session Recap - 28.11.2018 I_icon_minitimeWed 28 Nov 2018, 14:14

Tylendel feels himself being pulled back to Eras. As feels the world forming around him, he hears someone talking.

Voice #1: “See? I told you. It’s impossible to wake him up. He sleeps like a Highvale bear!”

Voice #2: “Wait. I think he’s coming to.”

Voice #1: “Lord Greyoak? It’s Wilmar, your old friend. Time to wake up. I think he needs something strong to drink.”

Tylendel opens his eyes and see Ghoston and Wilmar Wick standing over him.

Ghoston: “I’m so sorry, my lord. I would not have had Wilmar try to wake you up if I wasn’t ordered to do so. The morning council was interrupted by a captain of the Prophet’s archers, Denis something?”

Wilmar: “Something Denis.”

Ghoston: “Well, there has been an accident, I believe, and… My apologies, my lord, they expect you to appear. They need your help, my lord.”

Tylendel groans, still waking up.

Wilmar: “I think, poor man, he fell off the wall. Maybe he jumped? The Lost God knows I’ve considered it many times. I’m all alone too. Rhanmar’s gone, Radimir’s gone, Remist’s gone.”

Ghoston: “Wilmar. You go check on Syr Florian. Let’s give this lord some breathing room.”

Wilmar: “Oh, very well. I tell you, he needs something to drink.”

He leaves the room.

Ghoston: “He would be right about that. Here, I have water.”

He pours a glass of water for Tylendel; Tylendel takes it gratefully.

Tylendel: “Thank you.”

Ghoston: “I told them you were in meditation, and… They wouldn’t listen. They refused. I am sorry.”

Tylendel: “I was in meditation.”

Ghoston: “I will leave you to refresh yourself.”

He leaves Tylendel alone. Tylendel swears a little, then cleans himself and puts on his armour.

Tylendel: “Widow’s wails and a bucket of blood...”

After Tylendel leaves his room, he walks by way of the infirmary and get told that they want him in the House of Martial Holies. Outside, the weather has turned. A cold wind is blowing and there is hail and snow in the air. When he reaches the House he finds Syr Prister guarding the door. Inside, the council chamber is full of people.

Syr Gylian is standing by the middle of the long side of the council table, his bodyguard and Syr Dalibor on either end, facing a crowd of many of the knights and captains of the Hill. Syr Gylian smiles when Tylendel enters.

Syr Gylian: ”Welcome, my lord Greyoak.”

He looks at the crowd

Syr Gylian: ”As you can see---“

Tylendel notices a table on the other side of the room. Haralamb lies on the table, draped with a Horvath banner; Syr Erbin, Syr Decebal, Syr Aurel and Syr Horm stand over him, looking angry. Tylendel crosses the room and inspects Haralamb. His skull is obviously crushed, one of his eyes missing. The room falls silent as Tylendel stands over Haralamb; he notices a tear running down Syr Decebal’s cheek.

Tylendel: “What happened?”

Syr Decebal: “One of the archer captains of the Holy Harvesters found him outside the walls, and Syr Gylian summoned him and anyone who patrol the walls, and all the guards who could have seen something here. I think he is going to announce something, and interrogate these people, but I think he wanted you by his side. The last bear is gone.”

He sniffles. Tylendel turns to Syr Gylian and nods.

Syr Gylian: ”Ah, my friend. Come. I have a seat reserved for you at my side.”

Tylendel walks over, takes off Red Dancer’s belt and sits down. The crowd is looking nervous.

Syr Gylian: ”Syr Dalibor, are we ready?

Syr Dalibor: “Yes, Grosskomptur.”

Gylian stands up and nods to a man with a White Thorns tabard that stands in front of the crowd. The man takes a step forward.

Syr Gylian: ”Can you tell us who you are and how you found the lord?”

Captain Denis tells how he heard a noise when he was standing guard at Alfons the Reverent’s Gate. He went to investigate, walking the wall. Along the way he asked if anyone else had heard anything, and some had. When he reached the House of Martial Holies, he saw blood spatter on the merlons. He looked outside the wall and saw a dark shape lying on the ground. He ran back to the gate and asked for help, and that’s when he found Haralamb. They carried him inside and warned Syr Gylian.
Syr Dalibor is writing everything being said, and when the captain is done, he looks up.

Syr Dalibor: “You must possess the hearing of a bat, Captain.”

He turns to Syr Gylian.

Syr Dalibor: “Is this even possible?”

Syr Dostan steps forward from the crowd.

Syr Dostan: “Excuse me, my lords. The captain here is well known for his sharp senses, hence he commands the first company of our archers. I dare say there is no-one here that can shoot an arrow with greater precision than him. I have no doubt Denis would have heard the lord fall from the walls, even in this wind.”

Syr Gylian looks around.

Syr Gylian (?): ”But did your hawk eyes notice anything suspicious or unusual, aside from a lord with a stab wound and a broken thigh bone?”

Syr Gylian frowns

Syr Gylian: ”I wasn’t aware…”

Captain Denis: “A broken thigh bone, two, maybe three, fractured ribs, a solid blow to the temple, enough to burst his eye, at least one broken finger on his left hand.”

Syr Gylian: ”Hmf. Nothing else then?”

Captain Denis: “I’m certain I saw no tracks, no footprints, around the lord’s body. He must have fallen. Or someone pushed him. There were blood spatters on the wall, as I said, but seem to have toppled so quick that most of it ended up on The Lords’ Walk. It’s blowing wolves outside, my lord. This blizzard has blown away any hope out finding footprints.”

Syr Gylian: “Which confirms that Lord Haralamb was attacked while he was on the wall.”

Captain Denis shrugs.

Captain Denis: “This is all I know, my lords.”

He takes a step back.

Syr Gylian: ”Bohumíl. If I’m not mistaken you spent some time with the lord yesterday.”

Bohumíl steps forward and Tylendel leans towards Syr Gylian.

Tylendel: “Carry on.”

Tylendel walks over to Haralamb and starts casting a spell to see back in time to when he died.

Bohumíl: “I did, Grosskomptur. We sat down yesterday and we ate and drank together right in this chamber. I told him what had happened at Highwind Keep. He said that he had had a disturbing thought. “What if people were dying from the curse of the Creeping God? What if they, too, were poisoned?” I assured him that we would have known. Anyway he said he intended to go to the town council hall in the North Ward to find a mask. I offered him my assistance, but he said he had his own men. Then he began to cry and said that those men were his only family now.”

Tylendel notices Syr Decebal start sobbing again.

Bohumíl: “We stayed seated for a long while, drinking wine and staring into the fire. My lord Count Ruben of House Sandath arrived in the evening with his report from his investigation of the poisoning of Duke Esmond’s son. I sent him to find the Greyoak and deliver it. Meanwhile, Haralamb stretched his arms and said he would get up early to make ready for his trip down to the North Ward. He said good night. Count Ruben returned shortly after and said he wasn’t able to deliver his report,”

He looks at Tylendel

“as you were difficult to wake up.”

Syr Gylian: ”And no-one else talked to Lord Haralamb last night?”

Bohumíl: “Well, there were others, of course, who came and went.”

As Bohumíl thinks about who else would have been there, Syr Comton steps forward.

Syr Comton: “My lords. The lord came to me and asked about the mask. It was right after the lords came back from Highwind Keep. I told him I handed it to his brother the duke in the courtyard of the town council hall. Duke Harmond thanked me and said he would hide it away. I saw him take it inside and that’s what I told Haralamb.”

Syr Comton looks at Tylendel

Syr Comton: “I believe Lord Greyoak asked him to retrieve this mask, or find it.”

Tylendel: “Yes, I did.”

Syr Gylian: “Thank you, Syr Comton. I wish to hear the testimony of the guards.”

Syr Dalibor: “Yes, Grosskomptur. Three of the guards posted inside the House of Martial Holies claims to have heard things that might shed light on this. I call forth… Radosaal?”

The guard comes forward and tells of how he had seen Haralamb that morning before the council meeting.

As this goes on, Tylendel casts his spell.

He sees a rewind of what happened that morning. He sees Haralamb being carried from the council hall to outside the walls and being laid on the ground. Captain Denis comes running then walks away. Haralamb rises into the air, his eye healing. Haralamb is pulled onto the wall by a cloaked figure that then pulls a knife out of his back; Tylendel spots a mask under the hood. He sees Haralamb looking thoughtful, leaning on the wall, a figure behind him sneaking away from him backwards. Tylendel manages to see that the figure looks to be the same build that the one that killed Count Ales.

He releases the spell and is once again back in the council chamber. Syr Dalibor is writing, and Count Ruben Sandath is giving his testimony.

Count Ruben: “As I went down to the mess hall and ate breakfast with my men before attending, the more I think of it the more certain I am that it was his voice I heard. That timbre that just shook the wall.”

Syr Gylian: ”Did you make out any words?”

Count Ruben: “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”

Syr Comton: “So he got armed and got dress to a trip down to the North Ward but ended up on the wall?”

Syr Perron: “And it’s fair to assume that this “someone” was the other person talking.”

Syr Gylian seems thoughtful, and Syr Dalibor continues writing.

Syr Gylian: “Lord Camrey, you said Haralamb didn’t require your assistance since he had his own men.”

He looks to Captain Lukska

Syr Gylian: “Were any soldiers from the Arganhold ordered to accompany the lord to the North Ward?”

Lukska: “Not that I’m aware of, Lord Grosskomptur.”

Syr Gylian: “Strange. One would assume he’d tell his men to be ready to come with him. Could he have changed his mind? Would he have wanted to go alone?”

Syr Dostan: “It was clear that the deaths of so many family members broke something inside him, Grosskomptur. I do not think his fall was an act of his own volition, of course. It may be he wanted to go off alone so as not to lose more people he cared about.”

There’s silence after this comment.

Syr Gylian: “Ah. Whatever choices Lord Haralamb made, it is obvious we should focus on finding whoever it was he encountered on his way up the stairs. Syr Dalibor, I want everyone to report to us whom they have seen entering and leaving the House of Martial Holies since last evening.”

Dalibor nods and starts writing the Grosskomptur’s orders. Syr Gylian stands up.

Syr Gylian: “Anyone below the rank of sergeant, leave the room, please.”

Syr Malor: “Lord Grosskomptur, wait.”

He pushes a soldier to the front.

Soldier: “I-i-i… I’m s-s-sorry, m-my lord, I-i-I was stationed outside in a t-tower this morning, a-and…”

Syr Malor: “Get on with it, young man.”

Soldier: “Y-yes, milord of Mefester. I’m Robbyn, Robbyn of Hasselton, by the lake of the Parched Tortoise (?). To be sure, I never was a fighting man, not really, still wondering how I ended up with the Bone Dragons. I was a journeyman gold smith, having apprenticed to my father before moving to Serm to seek out work. Uh. Sorry, anyway, I was standing guard outside the door when I heard a noise as if someone threw a rock against the wall. I didn’t heed it at first, but then I heard it again, so I went to see if there was something going on. Didn’t sound too far off. I found a few rocks. Now that I’ve heard of this, I, ah, I thought it would be wise to inform you.”

Syr Gylian: “You’re saying someone distracted you to slip inside unnoticed.”

Robbyn:  “I don’t know, my lord, I wasn’t gone for long. Not far either, 20 yards at most. But it… It could be so, I’m afraid.”

Syr Dalibor: “Well, could someone have slipped inside while you were investigating?”

Robbyn: “I-i-I I’m so s-s-sorry, my lord. I-I don’t know. Maybe.”

Syr Gylian: “Thank you, Robbyn. Syr Malor, I expect you to go with Robbyn so he can show you his exact movements.”

Syr Malor: “I will. With Saint Urol’s fortune we might find something.”

Syr Malor drags the soldier out, and the room empties of all the low-ranking persons. Tylendel approaches Syr Gylian and talks softly to him.”

Tylendel: “I’ll be back shortly.”

Syr Gylian: “As you wish.”

Tylendel leaves the council chamber and heads for the vault, where he finds the seeing mirror. He sets it up, makes ready to evade any spirits that should emerge, then asks it to show him where in Byrkburgh the Crow-king’s assassins are. The mirror shows him the council chamber above him, making him swear to himself. When he asks it to show him who it is, the spirit of the mirror emerges, making him jump away to evade it.

Tylendel: “Oh, I am looking forward to banishing you, you piece of shit.”

He goes back to the council chamber. Most people are sitting around the table now, with some standing on a line behind the chairs. He leans against the column closest to them, studying them before talking. Syr Gylian has just finished talking, and Bohumíl is answering.

Syr Bohumíl: “Every man and every woman on the Holy Hill must be watchful; much more watchful now. We must take care of each other. We do not know whether this assassin is targeting noble-born or whether the next victim is a soldier or a sergeant.”

Syr Dalibor: “Report any suspicious activity immediately to your nearest officer. We’ll make sure the report makes its way here.”

Syr Gylian: “Captains should inform their sergeants and lieutenants will pass on the message to the squads.”

Syr Gombald: “This is not going to help our sinking morale.”

Syr Gylian: “No, my lord, it won’t. But it will be worse if anyone finds out we’ve been keeping this to ourselves.”

Syr Dostan: “He is right, Syr Gombald. We shall find a way.”

Tylendel casts a Control-spell with a simple command: “Obey Tylendel.”

Tylendel: “Would the man who killed Haralamb please raise his arm.”

People turn to look at Tylendel with the most quizzical looks. Tylendel ignores them and looks for anyone responding to his command. He notices one person starting to drum his fingers on the table, then his arms twitch. He starts sweating, then he raises his arm. Everyone turns to look at Syr Yaskar. A pin hitting the floor in the hallway outside would have been loud. Time stands still for a moment, then Syr Decebal lets out a terrible howl and jumps over the table, attacking Syr Yaskar. Both crashes to the floor, and Syr Decebal start pummelling Syr Yaskar.

Tylendel: “Stop!”

Decebal stops punching and looks up, his face spattered with blood. Syrs Comton, Gylian and Benn was making ready to join Syr Decebal, as where others around the table.

Tylendel: “Seize him, please. We can hurt him later.”

There is a brief struggle, then Syr Benn grabs Yaskar’s neck and holds him up. Yaskar snarls at Tylendel and tries to struggle, to no avail. Syr Gylian looks between Tylendel and Yaskar. Bohumíl stands up, looking betrayed.

Syr Bohumíl: “Syr Yaskar. I don’t believe it…”

Syr Malor looks at Tylendel.

Syr Malor: “Lord Greyoak, how can you accuse him like this?”

Tylendel ignores him, looking at Syr Yaskar.

Tylendel: “Why did you do it?”

Syr Decebal stands staring at Syr Yaskar, being held back by Syr Gylian.

Syr Yaskar: “I was ordered to do it.”

Yaskar struggles to speak, clearly fighting Tylendel’s compulsion.

Tylendel: “Who gave you the order?”

He’s clearly straining against the compulsion, sweat beads forming on his forehead. People are looking around; Syr Dalibor is rolling up his papers. Yaskar points at Dalibor.

Syr Yaskar: “Him!”

Syr Dalibor: “Whaaat? Me?! What is going on here?”

He backs into a corner.

Syr Dalibor: “This is a false accusation!”

Tylendel: “Syr Dalibor, did you give that order?”

Syr Dalibor: “No, I didn--- I did.”

He looks amazed at his admission. Tylendel claps Rumos Brysk on the shoulder.

Tylendel: “Seize him.”

The knight walks over and grabs Syr Dalibor.

Syr Dalibor: “Nooo! This is a trick! He’s tricking us!”

Syr Yaskar: “He’s tricking us!”

He points at Tylendel.

Tylendel: “How long have you served the Crow-king?”

Bohumíl rounds the table and stands next to Tylendel, hands planted at his hips. A tear is running down his cheek, and he looks very disappointed.

Bohumíl: “Lord Tylendel, please. How do you know?”

Tylendel: “Be truthful, Syr Dalibor. How long have you served the Crow-king?”

Syr Dalibor stands breathing heavily, his head down.

Syr Dalibor: “Since … we crossed … south from the Howling Mines.”

Syr Yaskar: “Fool!”

Syr Dalibor: “You are a fool!”

They start struggling to reach each other.

Syr Decebal: “Give him to me!”

Tylendel: “Why?”

Syr Dalibor: “We had no choice.”

Syr Gylian: “No choice?”

Anger makes Syr Gylian’s voice harsh.

Syr Bohumíl: “No choice?”

Tylendel: “Who else do you know that serve the Crow-king?”

Syr Dalibor: “There was a band led by a man with a helmet shaped to resemble a skull. And there was another, a young man, fair of hair, square of jaw, strong. Looked weathered. They led this group they… They infiltrated your camp, my lord. Somehow they convinced us to become their eyes in the army, the host.”

Tears run down Syr Dalibor’s cheeks, seemingly realising what he’s done; Syr Yaskar looks suspicious.

Tylendel: “The Skull Knight is with the Crow-king’s army now. I don’t know who the blond man is. How do you report? How do you send your messages about what you’ve found?”

Dalibor and Yaskar looks at each other.

Syr Dalibor: “I have sent messages from my chambers in the Oldenhall, and before that I’ve… I was in touch with some of the Cultists that were sent ahead, infiltrating the ruins of Bormost.”

Tylendel: “Why kill Count Ales? Why kill Esmond the Younger?”

Syr Yaskar: “We were given a list. Names of those we were told to remove.”

Tylendel: “Where is the mask?”

Syr Yaskar nods towards the fireplace. Tylendel taps one of the Witherwillow brothers on his shoulder and points. He walks over to the fireplace and starts searching, and soon returns with a bronze mask. The others in the chamber look to have accepted that Tylendel’s accusations are true. He hands Tylendel the mask. Tylendel takes the mask and looks at it briefly before handing it to Bohumíl. He accepts it reluctantly.

Tylendel: “Does the Crow-king have any other assassins on the Hill?”

Syr Yaskar: “I don’t think so.”

Syr Dalibor: “Yes, there is one, hiding in the city.”

Tylendel: “Where?”

Syr Dalibor: “I don’t know.”

Tylendel: “And he has a bronze mask as well?”

Syr Dalibor: “I don’t know, milord. The one you killed, he told me there was another.”

Tylendel: “Where’s the list?”

Syr Yaskar: “In my chamber in the Oldenhall.”

Tylendel releases the spell. Syr Dalibor looks burdened by guilt, while Syr Yaskar looks less bothered.

Syr Gylian: “Bohumíl, Dostan, Greyoak. What do we do? What sentence do we choose?”

Syr Decebal: “Slow torture. He killed my lord, and he killed the lord of Deepford, and the son of the duke of Halinhaven. Slow torture, and a befitting death.”

Tylendel: “No, Syr Decebal. I understand you anger, but we are not like them.”

Syr Decebal crumbles in on himself, crying.

Tylendel: “Take them to the wall. To the south wall. Let them swim in the Novíla from there.”

Syr Gylian: “Well, that is a death sentence.”

Tylendel: “Murder and treason. It is the only appropriate sentence.”

Syr Comton and Syr Benn lead Syr Yaskar out, while Syr Dalibor is led by Rumos Brysk and the two Witherwillow brothers.

Syr Dalibor: “No, please, wait! Please! They forced me! I didn’t want to! Aaaaa…”

Tylendel recalls Syr Dalibor as a good man from his time in Byrkburgh, but he feels like he has no choice in the matter.

Syr Gylian rounds the table and comes up to Tylendel, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Syr Gylian: “And so it is.”

Decebal walks over to Haralamb’s body and kneels, laying his head on the table.

Tylendel: “I should tell Duke Esmond.”

Syr Bohumíl: “You may have noticed no-one from Highwind Keep came to this council.”

Tylendel: “They are mourning.”

Syr Bohumíl: “Yes.”

Tylendel walks over to the wall and fetches Red Dancer.

Tylendel: “We will need someone to take over Syr Dalibor’s duties.”

Syr Bohumíl: “He’s the second herald I’ve lost.”

He seems to be talking more to himself than any others.

Syr Malor stands up and bows deep

Syr Malor: “My sincere apologies for what happened. Syr Yaskar was a vassal of mine, the knight of the Polodnia Hills. I had no idea.”

Tylendel: “The shadow can creep in anywhere. We need to look out for each other, to support each other. Especially now.”

Syr Gylian: “One thing is for sure. I do not regret forcing you awake. My apologies for doing so, but I thought this was too important for you to miss, especially since you were assigned this task of figuring out what happened to the count and the duke’s son.”

Tylendel: “It was the right thing to do. I was getting answers, but this was more important.”

Syr Gylian: “This means, my friends, that we have not one burial today, for Count Ales, but we need to inter Esmond and Haralamb as well. We discovered, while investigating the Hill, the tomb of a forefather of Count Ales. We have decided that the count can rest with his forefather. However, there is no room for more than the count. Do we find tombs for the two others as well, or do we burn them on the pyre? I’m not even sure the duke would agree, so we need someone to talk to the duke to find out what he thinks is appropriate for his son. The men of the coast have different notions on many things.”

Tylendel: “I will speak to him.”

Gylian also informs the council that he has ordered Wardens to make ready for the burial, and that the funeral is later that afternoon. He has also sent Wardens to find out if there are any Horvaths buried on the Hill.

Count Roban: “I still have the report from the investigation of Highwind Keep, but… I don’t know if that’s necessary anymore.”

He hands Tylendel his report of his investigation of Highwind Keep.

Tylendel: “I believe this is over now. For now. But as they said, there is another servant of the Crow-king in the City.”

Syr Malor: “No for long, I reckon.”

Tylendel: “Watch the walls. Light them.”

Syr Gylian: “Yes, we must be careful. We must not forget that man could continue what they started.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Syr Bohumíl: “I want someone to investigate and clear out those two rooms at Oldenhall. Find that list and anything else of interest. Who will do this?”

There is silence in the room.

Syr Bohumíl: “I’ll do it myself, then.”

Tylendel looks at Count Roban and raises his eyebrows. Roban clears his throat.

Syr Roban: “I can assist you, my lord.”

With that, the council is dismissed. Tylendel gives his condolence to the Arganhold knights, then heads over to Highwind Keep to talk to Duke Esmond.

At Highwind, Tylendel is led to the dining hall by Captain Olyp. The lord and his vassals are gathered for dinner, and the mood is glum. Tylendel makes special note that Count Ruben is closer to the duke than Lady Dorotei. As Tylendel approach the table, instead of his usual warm welcomes, Duke Esmond only looks at him and nods. Tylendel tries to be somewhat formal.

Tylendel: “My lord, my lady.”

He bows to Duke Esmond and Dorotei.

Duke Esmond: “Lord Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “I am sorry for your loss. I know it is of little comfort, but the murderer is being thrown off the south wall as we speak.”

Duke Esmond: ”Indeed? You found out?”

Tylendel: “Yes, my lord.”

Duke Esmond: ”I would never have doubted that you would. Tell me, who was it.”

Tylendel: “It was Syr Yaskar.”

Duke Esmond: ”Wh-what did my son ever do to deserve that kind of action from that man? I don’t even know who it is. Some Porsomonian knight.”

Tylendel: “He was gives a list by the Crow-king, of people he should kill. As far as we know he got to number three.”

Duke Esmond: ”My son was on that list? Why?”

Tylendel: “I presume to sow discord. To make us distrust each other. To kill our morale. Count Ales, your son, and, today, Lord Haralamb.”

Duke Esmond: ”No… Not him.”

The duke lowers his head. Count Andraw Iker sits shaking, looking nervous.

Count Andraw: ”Thank you for catching him. I’m fairly certain I’d find my name on that list.”

Lady Salyma Brysk: “So you believe it now, do you?”

Count Andraw: “Yes, lady. I think you foresaw this.”

Tylendel: “It appears that Syr Yaskar and Syr Dalibor turned to the Crow-king after they left the Howling Mines?”

Duke Esmond: ”Syr Dalibor? Bohumíl’s herald? It can’t be…”

Tylendel: “He sent messages to the Crow-king. He was the Crow-king’s eyes.”

Duke Esmond: ”This is too terrible to contemplate. I don’t know about that knight, but Syr Dalibor was a good man.“

Tylendel: “Once, yes.”

Duke Esmond: ”He served you when you was the steward. What could they have promised him? I don’t understand.”

Tylendel: “He might have been forced.”

Duke Esmond: ”I’m taking my son to the river. He will get a proper Haliner burial. Not flames, but water. He will wash out to the sea.”

Duke Esmond seems apathetic. People are quiet. Dorotei picks at her food. Tylendel makes his farewells and makes to leave. When he reaches the door, Duke Esmond speaks again.

Duke Esmond: ”If you would like to join us, you can. Tomorrow.”

Tylendel: “I will, my lord.”

Duke Esmond: ”Thank you, Lord Greyoak. I appreciate it.”

Tylendel leaves Highwind Keep. Finally relaxing somewhat, and helped by the smell in the Highwind hall, he notices his stomach growling. He changes his direction from the temple to Ironheart Tower, looking for food.

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