Online Session Recap - 27.03.2019

Mulendobra: “I’m sorry, but I have to kill you.”

Tylendel: “Oh, by Saint Urol’s scabby ball sack! Are you really so blind that you can’t recognize a potential ally when he’s standing right in front of you? Are you Betweeners so fucking stupid that you think you can handle Parafor on your own?”

Mulendobra: “Such sudden emotion.”

Tylendel: “My world is being destroyed.”

Mulendobra: “It would not be the first time.”

Tylendel: “I’d like to prevent it from being destroyed. These are my people. Are you really so disregardful of the value of a life that you’re willing to just let people die? How many people did you kill while leaving Tamolyn Pahórek, I wonder.”

Mulendobra: “I had no interest in the taking of life. I had an interest in getting away.”

Tylendel: “But still, here you stand, promising to kill me, when I’m one of the few people that can help you kill Parafor. How do you intend to do it this time? Try to recreate more seals, just postpone the final confrontation again?”

Mulendobra: “I did apologise.”

Mulendobra looks hesitant, and the glow in her eyes fades. She turns thoughtful.

Tylendel: “So tell me, you go and unchain Arakin, then what? How would you fight Parafor?”

Mulendobra: “Who said I was fighting him?”

Tylendel: “Well, how would you oppose him? Or would you just flee? You can’t get back to the Between, so when he starts destroying this world, where would you go?”

Mulendobra: “Why does it matter to you?”

Tylendel: “Because I know that if I stand up to Parafor alone, it would be difficult. I could use some help. Difficult, not impossible.”

Tylendel can see that Mulendobra is considering his words, trying to make up her mind.

Mulendobra: “So you are intending to remove Parafor.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Mulendobra: “But do you not know that that is impossible?”

Tylendel: “It’s possible.”

Mulendobra: “He is stranded here, like many of us. There is only one who knows the way, and he is lost.”

Tylendel: “What if I tried to repair the Twilight Gate? Is that possible?”

Mulendobra: “You cannot repair that which is broken.”

Tylendel: “Depends on how broken it is.”

Mulendobra: “What do you mean?”

Tylendel: “Are there remains? Can the columns be put back together?”

Mulendobra: “For that you would need some kind of master, such as does not exist anymore in this world.”

She gives Tylendel a suspicious squint.

Tylendel: “So we need the spirit of Lug.”

Mulendobra: “For a human being, you know quite a lot.”

She lowers herself so she can look Tylendel straight in the eye.

Mulendobra: “Tell me, who are you? Truly.”

Tylendel: “I am Tylendel Greyoak, the Oncoming Storm.”

Mulendobra flinches as he mentions the storm.

Mulendobra: “You? Made this? This storm?”

Tylendel: “It might have been a bit excessive, but…”

Mulendobra: “You?!”

Tylendel: “I needed to slow down the Cult army.”

She looks disbelieving.

Mulendobra: “It cannot be.”

Tylendel: “But it is.”

Mulendobra looks down, up, at Tylendel, to the sides, as if she is the one with the revelation.

Mulendobra: “Very well. I shall consider your words, and let you live for now. Yes.”

She turns around and opens the door.

Tylendel: “How long will it take to unchain Arakin?”

Mulendobra: “I am not sure.”

Tylendel: “Very well.”

Mulendobra: “I am not sure what happened to him. But I am sure it was the work of the Meddler.”

She turns around in the doorway, moving as if she had legs.

Tylendel: “Yes. How many of the Nine can move their spirits about from objects or different bodies.”

Mulendobra: “We all learned different things. Found different things within ourselves, that we brought with us from our home, which was strengthened here, then weakened, and now growing strong again. But remember one thing, Greyoak: Parafor, for all the misery and suffering he causes, is not your true enemy.”

She leaves the room. Tylendel picks up his gauntlets and helmet and follows.

Tylendel: “Who is Old Bones? Who’s the Pale Lord?”

Mulendobra: “Old Bones? The Lord of Death. Is that who you speak about?”

Tylendel: “Yes. Did he come from the Between as well, or was he already here?”

A tiny smile.

Mulendobra: “Death has always been and will always be, regardless of where you are, Tylendel Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “Oh, but there’s something more. It’s not just death, that people are dying: There is something there. There is a malevolence. I have seen it.”

Mulendobra: “Have you now?”

She turns towards Tylendel. Outside, the storm is still raging.

Tylendel: “I saw a maelstrom of death. A black entity, moving between bones and flesh, between rotting cloth and rusty armours. And a great, great anger. So is it just the loss of life? Oh, no. There is a mind behind that.”

Mulendobra looks thoughtful. For an instant she seems to realise something.

Mulendobra: “I cannot… I don’t… Well, that makes everything just a bit more bleak, doesn’t it?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

She opens the door the Flying Bull’s main room.

Mulendobra (muttering): “Old Bones… It cannot be.”

Tylendel considers reading her mind with the spell he is sustaining, but decided to show Mulendobra the respect she deserves, and keeps from doing it. She turns towards Tylendel.

Mulendobra: “There is a sorcerer, like you, of this world. Perhaps he is involved?”

Tylendel: “You’re not talking about Yoranquin, are you?

She looks flustered, then sighs. There is a gurgling sound from her lungs. The sadness returns to her face.

Mulendobra: “I did not die, though I tried. How… Can you know these things? The world has moved on. Memories of the past do not belong to such as you. Surely you are being… Does that… How much power did he invest in the bloodline?”

Tylendel: “Who were Mitrôn’s parents? Did Ruis sire him?”

Her eyes darken.

Mulendobra: “I am not speaking of Yoranquin. I am speaking of the man who rules the black-winged birds.”

Tylendel: “Kandarov.”

Mulendobra: “Probably.”

Tylendel: “The Crow-king. He who serves two masters: Parafor. And the Pale Lord.”

Mulendobra: “There you have it. So he… Old Bones. No, it cannot be.”

Tylendel: “Tell me what you’re thinking. Please. Who do you think it is?”

Mulendobra: “Old Bones is the great enemy of the Wandering God. The one who came first. There was no spirit, just death! This friend of yours, has he awakened death? Where is he?”

Tylendel: “My brother? Eld?”

Mulendobra: “No! The Crow-king.”

Tylendel: “A week ago he was in the Doomed City. I don’t know where he is now. I stole the last of his mirrors.”

He grins.

Mulendobra: “What mirror?”

Tylendel: “Loronë’s mirrors. He stole them, and unfortunately I had to destroy them, because he had placed malevolent spirits within them so I couldn’t use them.”

Mulendobra: “That bitch managed to lose her mirrors? To a human?!”

She sounds irritated.

Tylendel: “He raided the Hall of the Watchers, took the mirrors, and moved them.”

Mulendobra: “The Halls of Watchers. Impossible. How could you know?”

Tylendel: “Because I’m sworn to the Moon Guard.”

Mulendobra: “So you’re saying that her army still exists?”

Tylendel looks surprised.

Tylendel: “The Moon Guard has been eradicated. Parafor was sure to strike them first.”

Mulendobra: “But they have been around in your lifetime?”

Tylendel: “Yes, although we didn’t know what our purpose was. That knowledge has been lost. All we knew was to look after the seals, make sure they weren’t cracked. Of course, once they started weakening no-one had the faintest idea what to do.”

Mulendobra: “That is the curse of time. Things are forgotten. Things are unseen.”

Tylendel: “Things that should be remembered are lost.”

Mulendobra: “Those seals. I think they weakened because of the strengthening of sorcery.”

Tylendel: “The sorcery that all of you brought with you when you came here the first time.”

Mulendobra: “Yes. We infected this world. And now it is doomed to become part of the Dream.”

Tylendel: “Let’s try to make sure that doesn’t happen in a while.”

Mulendobra: “What does Parafor want?”

Tylendel: “Destruction. I spoke to him. He said that he didn’t want conquest, he didn’t want to rule. All he wanted was to see everything burn.”

Mulendobra: “The Fair Shining One. How far have you fallen?”

Tylendel: “Not so fair any longer, is he?”

Mulendobra: “Everything breaks.”

Tylendel: “Some things last forever.”

Mulendobra: “You have given me much to think about.”

Tylendel: “Why was Mitrôn said to be of both dark and of light, of spirit and of matter?”

Mulendobra: “This Mitrôn was the first God-king, yes?”

Tylendel: “Yes. Of godsblood, he was.”

Mulendobra: “I am beginning to suspect that Ruis lent much of his power to the blood.”

Tylendel: “But Ruis, he is Night. Mitrôn was of dark and of light.”

Mulendobra looks uncertain.

Mulendobra: “You’re trying to say that Loronë is his mother.”

Tylendel: “I am considering the possibility.”

Mulendobra: “Hers is the light of guidance, the light that shines through dark.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Mulendobra: “Not the light of fire and destructive brilliance that Parafor has assumed. Nor the light summer.”

Her eyes blaze again.

Mulendobra: “You may be right.”

Tylendel: “Just to make things a bit more complicated, it was said that Mitrôn rode a dragon.”

Mulendobra: “I do not think they existed at that time.”

Tylendel: “Let’s hope not.”

Mulendobra: “It may be an effect of the curse of time. Old stories mix with newer stories, and vice versa. Things that happened become myth, become religion. We have created much havoc simply by being here. Some of us could not resist the lure of being worshipped.”

Tylendel: “And if you were given a chance to return to the Between, would you? Go back to being a queen?”

Mulendobra: “Yes. Yes, I would.”

Tylendel: “Candath, was it? Although you don’t look Candathi.”

Mulendobra: “I have ruled many kingdoms. Old Candath is not what it was. It is like me, broken. So in that regard it would be suitable to return, yes.”

Tylendel: “Well, Candath is better off than Ether, if that is any comfort.”

Mulendobra: “But what I would truly seek if I returned, it was to finally be able to die. It takes its toll to be broken, century upon century.”

Tylendel: “I am sorry for your pain, my lady. I can only imagine.”

Mulendobra: “When I mend, I only break again. Yes. Pain. Pain was my power. My worshippers, they worshipped pain, saw suffering as something holy.”

Tylendel: “So you were the one that called for Syr Constyn?”

She doesn’t look as if she understands Tylendel.

Tylendel: “What is Gaffon’s purpose? What does he hope to accomplish.”

Mulendobra: “And now we have circled back to what I initially told you. He is the true enemy. He betrayed us all, even his sisters.”

Tylendel: “Pentarlys and Nysal.”

Mulendobra: “I am no longer surprised. It is like you carry the memories true, across the centuries, that vast gulf of time, that only some of us can perceive. He meddles. He put us up against each other. I’m quite convinced he is behind Parafor’s mounting anger as well. Stoking him.”

Tylendel: “He and his sisters tricked Lug into making Creeping God’s bane.”

Mulendobra: “A weapon?”

Tylendel: “A sword that can pierce light.”

Mulendobra: “Hmm. I was always… Brother of Skulls, we named him, that damned meddler.”

Tylendel: “You realise he’s just a few miles east of us, right?”

Mulendobra: “No. I have been greatly reduced. I am only now trying to rebuild my strength.”

Tylendel: “Did you notice the Brentonni blood-blade one of the captains of you captors carried?”

Mulendobra: “Yes.”

Tylendel: “Gaffon was within that blade.”

Mulendobra: “Impossible. I would have known that close.”

Tylendel: “He’s not there anymore. He’s hiding in another bla- Well. He was, a few days ago, hiding in another blade, which is currently on the hip of a man trying to hide from the wind under Kingsbridge.”

Mulendobra: “It’s what makes him so dangerous. He flicks about. He is, I believe it is impossible to capture him.”

Tylendel (mumbling): “I almost had him.”

Tylendel: “What about the Lady of Infinity Melodies and the Sister of Temptation: Would they be willing to fight with me, or would it be foolish to try to reach them.”

Mulendobra: “Alas, I know not where they are.”

Tylendel: “That’s not a problem. I’m more interested in if there’s any point trying to find them.”

Mulendobra: “Time took us all. Braek in the ice. Parafor beneath the city. Arakin… Somewhere in the great woodlands.”

Tylendel: “In the north?”

Mulendobra: “I have sensed him before I was taken. He is somewhere, yes, north of here.”

Tylendel: “Is he the one in the tree made of roots? That’s interesting.”

Mulendobra: “You have seen a tree of roots?”

Tylendel: “Yes, I have.”

Mulendobra: “Did it look like a prison of sorts?”

Tylendel: “The trunk, the branches, was all made of tangled roots. I don’t know if it was hollow. What I do know is that a pony sized wolf was heading there.”

Mulendobra: “The Wolf Lords. They are still here?”

Tylendel: “Well, I knew that wolf when he was a man named Lylas.”

Mulendobra: “Lylas. I know that name.”

Tylendel: “Truly?”

Mulendobra: “The offspring of Sister Silver and the Brother of Dusk. Yes, Ruis and Loronë.”

Tylendel: “Yeah, I suspected that. That’s why I thought that Ruis was trapped in that tree. After all, it’s the legends of how the Lost God was found.”

Mulendobra: “I understand now that much has changed, and that the world has birthed a great sorcerer to oppose all that is going on. I must reconsider. I am now glad I did not break you.”

Tylendel (muttering): “Try to break me.”

Tylendel: “Who’s the Spear-hearted?”

Mulendobra: “Spear-heart? You’ve heard of him as well?”

Tylendel: “Xandrion Spear-heart.”

Mulendobra: “Is that what you call him? He was one of the sons of Sister Serenade.”

Tylendel: “With a- I was about to say human: With someone from Eras?”

Mulendobra: “I hope so.”

Her expression changes again, as it often does.

Mulendobra: “Powerful enough to be regarded as something more by the common folk of this world.”

Tylendel: “In the army where you were captured there was a banner: A spear piercing a heart.”

Mulendobra: “Then he still has followers.”

Tylendel: “There are several cities on the Salt Coast that worship him.”

Mulendobra: “I have not heard of that place.”

Tylendel: “South, across the sea.”

Mulendobra: “Ah.”

Tylendel: “It’s where the men of bronze come from.”

Mulendobra: “When I sat the throne, that land was part of this land.”

Tylendel looks surprised.

Mulendobra: “Before the Shattering. And the Storm.”

Tylendel: “When Parafor stirred in his slumber, that crack in the earth where we first met, is that the start of yet another Shattering?”

Mulendobra: “Oh, I’m sure that was just him stirring. It was I who shattered. I tend to break things.”

She starts floating towards the door.

Tylendel: “How far can I trust you, Lady Mulendobra?”

Mulendobra: “For now you have my trust, and gratitude. I am glad things happened now as they did. I admit I was too hostile.”

Tylendel: “Gaffon was the one that orchestrated my presence here.”

Mulendobra: “What do you mean?”

Tylendel: “When I was born my mother tried to flee with me. Gaffon made sure that I was taken from my mother and brought here. The priest that took me from my mother is right now dining with the southern queen that ordered the murder of the God-king.”

Mulendobra: “Gaffon is, and has always been, a schemer. A shadow among us. He could have done such a thing, I have no doubt, but I see no reason why. Perhaps you know more than me.”

Tylendel: “The priest that took me carries a spear haft. When I tried to find the spearhead, that’s what led me to the tree of roots.”

Mulendobra: “It is said that Arakin was weakened by a weapon that allowed him to be imprisoned. For his strength was great. He was the lord of all beasts. Nature was with him. Until Parafor managed to get a hold on the greatest of his allies, the dragons. I knew it. It had to be him. The Meddler. The blade between Arakin and me.”

Tylendel: “Why would Lylas be searching for Arakin?”

Mulendobra: “Now that is a good question. I have to go. I have to find him first.”

She opens the outside door.

Tylendel: “Can you pierce the storm?”

She looks as if she doesn’t notice the wind.

Tylendel: “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She turns towards Tylendel, the wind whipping her hair.

Mulendobra: “Until the next time. Thank you.”

Tylendel: “Call me if you need my help, my lady.”

Mulendobra: “I will.”

She disappears into the wind, and Tylendel is left alone with his thoughts in the Flying Bull. He spends a few minutes thinking about what he has learned, then puts on his gauntlets and helmet and leaves for Bormost.

On his flight, he notices that the Dimsilver has grown bigger, as if Parafor’s hold is weakening.

The city is still in chaos, but it seems as if the wind has eased somewhat. There is activity on the Holy Hill. There are guards and people moving about, so Tylendel tries to make sure no-one sees him as he lands near Ironheart Tower. Surprisingly, there are no guards at the door, so he opens it and steps inside.

There are two guards standing inside alongside Captain Kalareth.

Guard: “Quick! Quick, before it bangs!”

Tylendel steps inside slowly, and calmly close the door behind him. The captain is standing with his hands at his side.

Captain Kalareth: “Who goes there?”

Tylendel: “Who else but me would be foolish enough to brave this weather?”

Captain Kalareth: “Lord Greyoak.”

He bows.

Captain Kalareth: “I did not recognize you in your new attire. Expensive stuff?”

Tylendel: “Surprisingly not. Hard to come by, though.”

Captain Kalareth: “I am impressed.”

He studies Tylendel’s armour.

Captain Kalareth: “Gold?”

Tylendel winks.

Tylendel: “Is Syr Dostan available?”
 
Captain Kalareth: “I would assume he is, because he has been fretting about not finding you for a while.”

Tylendel: “That’s because I haven’t been here.”

Captain Kalareth: “That’s what I thought as well. Allow me to escort you, my lord, as I have done before.”

Tylendel: “Thank you.”

Captain Kalareth: “He has been wanting to speak with you for a while, but I do not know what troubles him so. But he is troubled.”

Tylendel: “Let’s hope I can relieve his mind.”

Kalareth leads Tylendel to the chamber in front of Dostan’s hall, where Captain Hariam is on duty. Kalareth hands Tylendel over, and Hariam goes inside to find Syr Dostan. He returns a few moments later, and Tylendel is allowed inside. Tylendel thanks the captain and enters – Dostan enters the room at the same time, from another room. He looks expectant, and Tylendel can’t help but strike a pose.

Syr Dostan: “Lord Greyoak!”

He comes up to Tylendel, almost kneeling.

Syr Dostan: “I have been worried sick about you, but…”

He stands up and looks Tylendel over.

Syr Dostan: “I see I had nothing to worry about!”

Tylendel: “I was delayed.”

Syr Dostan: “At the armoursmith?”

Tylendel: “No, that didn’t take so long.”

Dostan pulls out a parchment and looks questioningly at Tylendel.

Tylendel: “I’m afraid that won’t be as useful as it was, what with the storm and everything.”

Syr Dostan: “It… Just came to me. It was your doing?”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Syr Dostan: “Sit down, please.”

Tylendel walks over to the table, sets down his gauntlets and helmet, his cloak and his backpack, and unties the Sword of the Lost God and places it on the table. Dostan taps his hand on the table.

Syr Dostan: “I’m not the only one who has been worried. Both Syr Gylian and Syr Bohumíl have also been wondering and we’ve all agreed that we should not worry overly much, knowing you as we do. But still… With all that is going on and all the dangers we know we face I’m relieved to see you hale and… Well. In quite stunning armour. Now you do look like an emperor.”

Tylendel: “Well, I haven’t been thinking too much about that- I’m more worried about Parafor and the Crow-king. I’ve been trying to get some allies.”

Syr Dostan: “Allies, you say?”

Tylendel: “Gods.”

Dostan chuckles.

Syr Dostan: “Nothing less for the Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “I am in two minds on whether I should announce it, thought, since the Lost God Found’s scriptures says that he should be the only one. I do believe we need some help, though.”

Syr Dostan: “You would know best.”

Tylendel: “I do make mistakes from time to time.”

Syr Dostan: “I wouldn’t presume to know that. My friend, listen, there is something I need to show you, if you don’t mind.”

He stands up.

Syr Dostan: “Follow me.”

Tylendel follows Dostan out of the chamber and up some stairs to a small living chamber.

Syr Dostan: “Do you remember a young soldier of ours named Konrad? He was the father of a child that as born here a few days ago.”

Tylendel: “The father of the Duskborn.”

Syr Dostan: “Indeed. His wife, she died a few days ago. According to our friend Ghoston it was because of some internal bleeding. I am not sure. He attributed it to the birth.”

Tylendel frowns

Syr Dostan: “Konrad has not… As you can understand, he is in dark and deep grief. But the thing is…”

He opens the door. It is a small chamber with a bed and a table. Konrad is sitting on a stool, his elbows on his thighs, his face resting in his hands, looking at the child, Doréa. The child is sitting on the floor. She turns to the door as Dostan and Tylendel enters, and crawls over to his father, where she stands up and reaches for him. She looks to be a year old, and she has a full head of hair, grey, hanging in ringlets. Her eyes look grey as well. Konrad looks up at the visitors. Tylendel concentrates to see magic, and he can see it swirling about the girl. She looks at him, and there is something strange about her eyes, something shiny. Konrad places her on the floor again.

Konrad: “Can you help us?”

Doréa plops onto her butt and look up at Tylendel. He kneels in front of her and places a hand on her head. He notices now that her eyes are silvery.

Doréa: “Gaah.”

Tylendel pats her head and tries to reach out for Loronë, but there is no response. Doréa looks up at him, her eyes containing all the innocence in the world. She smiles.

Syr Dostan: “We don’t know what this means, but Doréa here, she is growing awfully fast.”

Tylendel makes up a song for her and sings it, something about Dimsilver and Duskborn, about light in the darkness and hope. She laughs when he finishes.

Tylendel: “Take good care of her. Look after her. I believe she’ll be very curious. She’ll thirst for knowledge in…”

He looks down at her.

Tylendel: “Well, a few more days. She should get the best teachers we can offer her.”

Konrad: “U-u..Wh-Wait. Are you saying that this will continue? How-“

Tylendel: “Your daughter has been touched by a goddess, Konrad.”

Konrad and Dostan look at each other, at Tylendel.

Syr Dostan: “I think you… We will heed your words. It will be all right, Konrad.”

Dostan walks over to Konrad and lays a hand on his shoulder. Tylendel cocks his head to one side.

Tylendel: “You can see this as a blessing or a curse, but what little Duskborn now need is love and attention.”

Konrad: “I promise you I love her! Of course I do.”

He does sound very sincere.

Syr Dostan: “It will be all right. What do you say, Lord Greyoak? Is this good enough? Do we need more guards? Are you afraid something could happen to her?”

Tylendel: “There is still an assassin in the city, and I guess if he gets knowledge of this he will target her. She needs to be guarded, guarded well.”

Konrad: “Assassin?”

Syr Dostan: “I shall put as many men as I can to guard this chamber.”

Tylendel: “Good.”

Syr Dostan: “Do not worry, Konrad my friend. We will do all that we can and more.”

Konrad walks over and picks up Doréa. She wiggles a bit.

Konrad: “Thank you, thank you.”

Dostan closes the door as he and Tylendel leave.

Syr Dostan: “Ah, now you know. I have been quite anxious to show you this.”

Tylendel: “Well, that is understandable.”

Syr Dostan: “And worried. I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Tylendel: “Touched by Loronë, I believe.”

Syr Dostan: “The Lady of the Moon you have spoken of.”

Tylendel: “Yes. Sister Silver.”

Syr Dostan: “Sister Silver?”

Tylendel: “Did you see her eyes?”

Syr Dostan: “I did. I did. Several times. I have visited him a few times. They came… He came, asked for an audience, and carried her, and I saw that she had already grown far beyond what one should expect, and I knew something was up, so I moved him up here. There are rumours among the men that something strange is afoot. But no-one has been told anything.”

Tylendel: “Why is the grove of the Lady of Summer guarded?”

Syr Dostan: “Your prisoner fled. The lady without the legs,”

Tylendel: “Yes, I’ve spoken with her.”

Syr Dostan: “Apparently she rushed out of Tamolyn and into that place. My men are calling it a holy grove. And Syr Gylian sent his wardens after her, because she was spotted. Something happened in there, I am not sure what. But she managed to flee. She sped out from between them, through the cordon they made. No-one was hurt, but just like that she was gone. There is a black patch in that place now, as if the grass and the flowers withered. It might still be there. I do not know if things have regrown.”

Tylendel: “Has the Garden grown colder after that?”

Syr Dostan: “I have not been told anything like that.”

Tylendel: “The Broken Goddess. She causes pain.”

Syr Dostan: “I… Sorry, I’m not following.”

Tylendel: “The woman without legs. Mulendobra, the Broken Goddess. The High Queen of Amoríon.”

Syr Dostan: “Oh, I see. It was another one of the old ones.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Syr Dostan: “Forgive me, my lord, I have not directly part in any investigation in that matter. You should speak with Syr Gylian or Syr Bohumíl. I’ve had my hands full with cleaning up, getting people to safety in this sudden storm. I have lost four men.”

Tylendel: “Shit. Excessive.”

Syr Dostan: “And there are a number of people in the infirmary now, including Syr Gombald and one of the knights of Syr Gylian. We’ve had some problems related to this, because both men at our infirmary were wounded. Maybe they were wounded by this broken woman you speak of, I do not know. So they are at the infirmary as well and we are left with a few soldiers who know a trick or two about first aid, and that old priest. So, yes, I have been contending with matters like that.”

Tylendel: “Yes, the storm turned out to be both fortuitous and harmful.”

Syr Dostan: “I believe Syr Gylian has a strong desire to speak with you as well. There are a few matters that were discussed during the morning council that he wishes to inform you about. There is a letter or something waiting for you as well.”

Tylendel: “Really?”

Syr Dostan: “Thought I do not believe it came into being the way some other certain letters have been made.”

Tylendel: “Well, some letters need to arrive in haste.”

Syr Dostan: “I understand. Things are getting stranger, even though one would assume it couldn’t be any more strange. I am sure you also have matters to discuss. The council for today is over, unfortunately, but... Well. I’m not the one to tell you what to do.”

Tylendel: “I may have to leave for a few days again.”

Dostan is unable to hide his disappointment.

Syr Dostan: “I understand.”

Tylendel: “I need… I should find the Lord of the Hunt, and free him.”

Syr Dostan: “The Lord of the Hunt. Another potential ally?”

Tylendel: “Yes. Arakin. He was the God of Beasts.”

Syr Dostan: “Beasts. Doesn’t sound too…”

Tylendel: “Dragons are also bests, my friend.”

Syr Dostan: “You speak in riddles again, my friend. I’m sorry, I do not follow. It matters not. Do you wish to stay for something to eat and drink, or will you be leaving immediately?”

Tylendel: “I guess I should speak to Syr Gylian before I go again. But first…”

Her draws the Blade of the Lost God and places it on the table.

Tylendel: “It’s not for me to wield, this sword.”

Syr Dostan: “It’s… Beautiful.”

Tylendel: “To be honest, I don’t know who should wield it.”

Syr Dostan: “Where did you chance upon this weapon?”

Tylendel: “Part of it comes from the Hall of the Watchers. Part of it comes from a world of dreams. Part of it is what I put into it.”

Syr Dostan: “So it is magical…”

Dostan stands looking at the sword in awe.

Syr Dostan: “Is it something that would be powerful against our enemy?”

Tylendel: “The blade is made of Moonsteel. The same as the dagger I gave you.”

Syr Dostan: “I can see that now.”

Tylendel: “This will pierce magic. It will pierce any enchantment. And if I do say so myself”

He slides his hand above the edge

Tylendel: “It’s bloody sharp.”

Syr Dostan: “I imagine so. An heirloom of the house Greyoak. Tiny as a house might be.”

Tylendel: “Yes, not too many knights are sworn to me,”

Syr Dostan: “A gift for the Duskborn? If she continues like this, she can wield it next week.”

Tylendel looks as if he’s had a revelation.

Tylendel: “That may be the most appropriate thing I’ve heard all week.”

Syr Dostan: “Why, thank you.”

Tylendel: “I was going to entrust it to you, and by you the council to decide, but you just did. This blade will be for the Duskborn. Oh, how appropriate.”

Syr Dostan: “To be honest, my friend, you gave me the idea when you mentioned the Moonsteel you have used to forge this.”

Tylendel chuckles.

Tylendel: “Let’s hope Parafor doesn’t arrive before she’s learned how to use it. He’s still being held beneath the Doomed City.”

Syr Dostan: “Is he?”

Tylendel: “If he wasn’t he’d be here.”

Syr Dostan: “Good. Let him stay there.”

Tylendel: “Well, he won’t stay there forever.”

Syr Dostan: “No. I guess you’re right.”

Tylendel: “Has Eamhyn been harmed by the storm? Do you know?”

Syr Dostan: “Who?”

Tylendel: “Eamhyn the smith. The quartermaster.”

Syr Dostan: “Oh! I am afraid I do not know. I have no knowledge of any casualties under the other commanders.”

Tylendel takes out the Codex of the Wolf and his letter of inheritance from his backpack.

Tylendel: “Would you look after these for me, please?”

He puts on his cloak and gauntlets, and picks up his helmet.

Tylendel: “I’ll try not to be gone as long this time.”

Syr Dostan: “You must do what you must do.”

Tylendel: “That is true. There is little choice.”

Syr Dostan: “It is coming, isn’t it? The time of reckoning.”

Tylendel: “A time of tears. Hopefully, also a time of joy and of peace.”

Dostan walks over to a window. Tylendel follows him.

Syr Dostan: “It has grown brighter today.”

Tylendel: “Yes.”

Syr Dostan: “I believe the winds disrupt the darkness.”

Tylendel: “The darkness can’t hold. It never can. There’s always light.”

Syr Dostan: “Look at the great river. Never seen a river so angry before. So wild. I see it as a sign. We are walking into this reckoning. You lead us, Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “No. You and the council lead us. I just show you the path.”

Syr Dostan: “The Greyoak and the Grey Wolf, eh?”

They both chuckle.

Tylendel: “It’s not the first time I’ve stood shoulder to shoulder with wolves.”

Syr Dostan: “If we get out of this alive, my friend, I promise you I can do what I can to support you in whatever endeavours you should choose to follow.”

Tylendel: “I haven’t decided yet what to do. As I told another friend: I guess my choices would be to either claim the throne or leave the Empyre forever.”

Syr Dostan: “Then I must retract my words. I cannot support you in the latter suggestion. The Empyre needs you, Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “Maybe.”

Syr Dostan: “It began aboard a boat on the coast of Anastonia, and it is not over yet.”

Tylendel: “The Mad Spearman. Right now he is in Oxhost.”

Syr Dostan: “You know where he is?”

Tylendel: “Oh, yes.”

Syr Dostan: “And he is alive?”

Tylendel: “Indeed he is. I also know that the Queen Mother of Oxhost was the one that ordered the assassination of the God-king. The one that the Mad Spearman was dining with a few days ago.”

Syr Dostan: “So he is allied with the murderer of…”

He sits down.

Syr Dostan: “If you suggest he is on a dark path, I can only assume that he found that path long after I last saw him. Though he was… I’ve always understood why people call him mad. He was a bit unpredictable.”

Tylendel: “Indeed. Especially when you consider that the spear he’s carrying is the spear of Xandrion.”

Syr Dostan: “And you’ve lost me again. But that’s Tylendel Greyoak.”

Tylendel: “Xandrion Spear-heart, he whom they worship on the Salt Coast.”

Syr Dostan: “Ah, for every mystery you solve, two new mysteries appear. Three!”

Tylendel: “Nysal is the Lady of Infinity Melodies, another Goddess. She was one of the three that made sure that Creeping God’s Bane was forged. Xandrion is her son.”

Syr Dostan: “They have children now?”

Tylendel: “Oh yes. Mitrôn was Ruis’ son.”

Syr Dostan: “You will have to come back one day when time is one our side, my friend, and lay this out so I can follow properly. I am a simple man, without all that you know.”

Tylendel: “One day I might even write a book about it.”

Syr Dostan: “I think you should.”

Tylendel: “Until that day.”

Tylendel bows and leaves his friend.