Qintarra. I can scarcely believe it. Weeks after braving the cold of Hadrian's Pass, tearing past beasts...I would arrive at this place. This tranquility...this..beauty...SICKENS me. The plot..Arronax. Molochean Hands. How did it begin? This tangled web...Bates the fool takes the dwarves technology, unknowingly destroyed elven lands, then the elves, the leader, M'in Gorad, demanded the Black Mountain Clan's exile...yet...why leave Bates alone?
It's beautiful isn't it, sir?
*Glares.*
Uhh...yes..let's find this Silver Lady.
I think Gilford needs a little bit of rest, the trip must've been taxing on his psyche. He's so on the edge lately.
He carries a great burden. This Arronax...is a real threat to him. Would you not worry for your survival, knowing your greatest foe is out there, plotting your demise?
It's that dark helm, I tell you...he's been strange ever since... *Cast a worried glance at Gilford.*
That...is a most unusual sight.
I am surprised to see a dwarf here.
This is my home. What do you wish of me?
What is a dwarf doing in Qintarra?
What better place to train in the ways of magick?
You're a mage? That is a bit...unusual, is it not?
I have been drawn towards magick for my entire life. Unlike most dwarves, I had no affinity for things of a technological nature.
So that's why you live here?
I am under a tutorial agreement to my teacher, Wraith. I am unable to leave until my contract is finished.
You sound as if you want to leave now.
I cannot take living with these elves! I thought my magickal bent would make me a kin to them somehow, but that is not the case. I need to find a release from my servitude before I go mad!
What exactly is the term of your contract?
My contract runs until the end of Wrath's life. In exchange for training in the magickal arts, I agreed to serve him. But the bitter old elf can last another two, possibly three hundred years!
Why did you agree to such an interminable length of service?
No elf wanted to take a dwarf as an apprentice, it was the best offer I could get. It wasn't bad at first, when Wrath was simply surly. Over the past fifty years or so he's become increasingly bitter and difficult to work for. I do not know what will I do if I can't convince him to release me soon.
Why don't you just leave?
I would never dishonor myself so. The only thing that can release me besides his death is his word.
Perhaps I could convince him to release you.
Thank you for the offer, but your interference would only serve to anger him, which would lead to greater torment for myself at his hands.
Fine. Suit yourself.
The party continues their exploration of Qintarra, the elves home, perched atop the trees over Glimmering Forest. Their sightseeing was suddenly interrupted by the discovery of a dead body.
Huh? Could it be...Jormund's mentor? *Searches the body.*
Hmm. This wine glass has a peculiar odor.
(This is too obvious!) Murder? Who is he meant to have killed?
He killed Wrath, his mentor. Jormund's dislike for Wrath is well known in Qintarra, as well as his wish to be released from his contract.
This is all very interesting. May I speak with him?
Sure, go on in. But don't try anything, I'll be listening out here.
You've returned.
Why did you kill him? To be released from your contract?
I would have sooner served my remaining years in silence than to have lifted my hand against my mentor, regardless of my dislike for his person.
If you didn't kill him, who did?
I've no ideas on the matter. How was he killed?
I do not know.
Perhaps you could get some more information from the captain of the guard out front.
*Turns towards the guard.* Can you tell me how Wrath was killed?
We haven't determined that, as of yet. At this point, all we know is that we can find no evidence of any injuries from weapons.
What about Magick?
No. We of Qintarra are acutely attuned to the flows. If any dark necromancy had been use, we would have felt it.
*Turns towards Jormund.* The guards say he wasn't killed with a weapon or with Magick.
Is there any evidence that you know of?
Just this glass.
*He holds the glass up to his face and sniffs it.* This is poison. There is only one apothecary, Sharpe, in Qintarra. If the poison was bought here, he'd have been the one to sell it. I need to speak with him, somehow. Since I am confined to my house, I need someone to help clear my name. Are you interesting in helping me out?
I would be happy to help...for a fee of course.
I will give you my prized Staff of Xoranth for your help, good sir.
I accept.I'll begin my investigation immediately.
The apothecary owner, Sharpe was not at his shop when the party arrives.
I'm looking for Sharpe.
He was called out of the village suddenly. I am his wife. Can I help you with anything?
I needed to ask him about a poison. *Shows her the glass.*
Yes, I recognize it. Very distinctive odor.
Do you sell that type of poison here?
Yes, we do. I don't know if we have any at the moment, though.
(This is too easy.) The poison in that glass killed Wrath. Did you know him?
Wrath is dead? By the gods?
What can you tell me about him?
We had a...history. The three of us were friends, long ago, but he became angry when Sharpe and I began living together. Who killed him, that dwarven student of his?
Why do all you elves immediately assume it was a dwarf?
You're right. I shouldn't assume anything. I didn't even know the lad. Though being under Wrath's yoke could drive anyone to murder.
What did Wrath do to make you dislike him so?
He started spreading hatred and lies about Sharpe and myself. He said it was offensive and damaging to the village for us to carry on "like humans", as he put it.
He felt you were violating elven customs?
I believe that he was actually jealous. Sharpe and him fought often, in later years.
Did Sharpe hate Wrath enough to kill him?
It was the other way around, actually. I think Wrath became a bit unbalanced. Of course, we all know that elves do not have it in them to wantonly murder each other over things like jealousy.
Could Sharpe have poisoned Wrath to protect you?
If he had felt I was in danger, I believe he would do anything to protect me, even sacrifice himself. But as I said, elves would never even think of killing one another. We take a wider view of things, as you know. This life is only one life that elves exist in. When we die, we go to another level. So what purpose would murder serve.
(Illogical denial.) But you yourself said that Wrath was unbalanced.
This is disturbing me. I don't wish to speak about it anymore.
Fine. (I must snoop around her shop when she's not around. She must have something!)
Later that night...
Aha!
Now, you can't deny it any longer...
That is unimportant. What is important is what it contained.
And what would that be?
Stop playing stupid. It was filled with poison - the same one used to kill Wrath.
So? That proves nothing!
(Really?!) That, coupled with all you've told me before, points to Sharpe...
But he can't have killed him! He's a good man, not like Wrath!
What exactly do you mean by that?
Wrath had a black heart! I can't believe we were ever friends with him. He turned when he found out I didn't love him.
(Fucking shit.) He was in love with you?
He was the one who suggested I live with HIM. I liked the idea, strange as it may be, but I never felt anything but friendship towards Wrath. Sharpe was the one I loved.
SO? What happened then?
That's when Wrath became a truly miserable person. He would come around when Sharpe wasn't here and try to convince me that either I should love him, or that Sharpe was somehow not worthy of me. When I finally told him to stop bothering me is when he began threatening me.
Wait ...what?
And the threats became progressively worse. He threatened to kill Sharpe at one point. The last thing he ever said to me was that he wouldn't let Sharpe have me if he couldn't.
(Blast! What the hell is she trying to tell me?!) You must have thought he was a threat to you, then.
That was a hundred years ago, he hadn't even spoken to us since then. I know that us elves are a patient people, but I can't believe he was bitter all that time.
(A hundred years...really?) So what you're saying is that Sharpe had no reason to kill Wrath?
But Wrath had plenty of reason to want to harm Sharpe.
(Dear gods, I need to think...goddamn elves!) If Wrath were to kill him, though, you would have hated him.
But if he could get Sharpe to kill him, the whole village, including me, would turn on Sharpe.
(That...that makes sense! Of course!) Or if he killed himself and framed Sharpe!
*A look of recognition crosses her face.* By the gods! That bastard did it! I cannot believe he could be that bitter - to kill himself! What a fool!
I'll tell the guards to release Jormund...but first...to visit that bitter, old bastard.
You can ponder your disgraced name for eternity.
NOOOOOOOO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!!!
I just did, die in disgrace, old man!
My goodness, what a ridiculous chain of events!
A hundred years...and he's still bitter?
He chose a coward's path. There is no honor in his death.
I just want my 15 minutes back. Let's go. The guard needs to hear about this.
It was Wrath who concocted the idea of them living together.
The degenerate! I knew Sharpe must have been led astray by someone. He was always a good egg, he was.
So you'll have Jormund released, then?
Certainly. Thank you for all your help.
Thank you for clearing my name.
You're welcome. Seeing Wrath's specter's reaction was worth it.
Here is the staff I promised you. You are always welcome in my home.
This is a terrible weapon. It's weapon speed is amazingly fast for a staff, but the damage is so pitifully low.
We've wasted enough time. Let's meet the Silver Lady.
I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met.
No..you're correct. We've never met. *The elven woman looks at Alain evenly. Her skin is light, almost translucent, with hair of dark crimson, almost black. She is beautiful, but very severe.*
What is your name, madam?
My name is very old, and very long. *She thinks for a moment, her green eyes sparkling.* Perhaps it would be best if you simply called me "Raven".
Interesting. Do you have a moment?
Of course.
I need to speak with the Silver Lady.
The Silver Lady? Oh...you mean my mother...*Her eyes narrow.* That's quite a request, and one not so easily granted...
(Oh gods, not this again....) Believe me, Raven...she's going to want to speak with me...
And believe ME when I tell you that NO ONE sees my mother until I see it as necessary. She may be our queen, but I oversee the daily matters here in Qintarra.
(Bitch.) Perhaps she needs to leave someone else in charge...
Oh really, stranger? You're quickly wearing out your welcome, as well as my patience. There's a quicker way back down to the forest floor...perhaps you'd like to see it?
(Do not test me, woman...I have very little patience...) You'd not survive the presentation, Raven...
Sir, what are you-
SHUT UP, VIRGIL! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF THESE DELAYS!
*Grips the handle of his blade.*
Oh dear...
Insult or threaten me again, stranger, and I swear you won't see the end of this day...
Listen, princess. I'll save both of us some time...
Oh shi-
....you deplorable twit!
Fool! You'll regret the day you ever stepped into Qintarra!
You have NO IDEA who you're messing with, princess!
Assassins! To arms!
You accursed demon worshipper!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Princess!
COWER before me!
Sir, it's enough - they're..
I know. Damnable fools.
Take a moment to gather your bearings, there are more of them about.
I still need more information...*Searches Raven's body.*
Wh - who is this Renford A Terwilliger?
Doesn't sound elven to me.
Only one way to find out...ARISE, RAVEN!
Then why are you here? Leave..
You know I cannot. But I have no intention of helping you any further. I can wait here for a long time...
I need but one answer, Raven.
And why should I answer, elf-slayer? *She laughs, bitterly.* No, forgive me. Please...ask your question.
Where do I find M'in Gorad?
*She is silent for a long while. Then she begins laughing, a malicious thing, devoid of feeling.* Seek the one I love, murderer. Seek the one I love...
Who? Who is that?
*She remains silent.*
Raven! Who is it?!
Sir, if I may...Renford A. Terwi-
*Clutches the letter in his hand.* Yes...Raven. You are dismissed.
They will block our passage out of this place. Are you ready to battle?
Yes. Let's...leave.
With a wave of his hand, Alain summoned another hellspawn to do his bidding as his party tore through Qintarra's defenders. Dozens of corpses littered the giant tree as they battled their way out.
Looks like...it's over?
I sense our enemies retreating, we are safe for now.
I...where to, sir?
Renford A. Terwilliger....Renford...A...Ter-
Looks like Gilford-boy needs a little time out.