At the end of your week, you are all rounded up by various messengers from the Lyceum. They find you shopping, relaxing or strolling through town and request that you follow them back to the school for an urgent meeting with Simeon. You comply, navigating the streets which are still littered with detritus and filled with the construction sounds of people putting their lives and their homes back to together. Even the campus of the Lyceum is undergoing construction work and as you cross, young students stare at you with open mouths, whispering and pointing as they get a glimpse of the heroes.
Up in Simeon's well-appointed office, you enter to see the headmaster staring out of a freshly installed glass window overlooking the harbour. Seated on some high-backed chairs around a table cluttered with maps and tankards of wine are Kiernan Stekart, the dwarf abjurer and head of the war department, Katrina who appears to have ingratiated herself enough to be present, your old friend Torrent and two other men.
The first is half-elven and clearly from the nation of Ostalin, his olive skin giving him away instantly. He is nearing middle age with a thick sandy brown muttonchop beard and he is dressed in nobleman’s finery. He keeps an exotic leather-bound case beside him, stitched with his family’s coat of arms.
The second man is human and stands tall and strong, clad in a finely made steel breastplate and with an ornate bastard sword sheathed and strapped to his back. A polished silver mask hangs from his belt and a large silver holy symbol bearing a design depicting a skeletal hand holding a measuring scale hangs from a chain around his neck. He is brown eyed and brown haired and lifts his eyes from the map to look at you when you arrive.
“Come on and sit down,” says the half-elf stranger. “I’m Balan Bastom, distantly related to the Bastom house of Ostalin. Pleasure to meet you. Simeon and I were just trying to figure out how long it had been since we’d seen a storm anywhere near as big as the one we had last week. The best we can figure was twenty-two years ago. Good job on that, by the way.”
Katrina smirks. “We owe them our lives,” she says. “Guys, we’ve got a mission for you. I’ve promised them that you won't disappoint us.”
Simeon turns from the window to face the party. "Gentlemen, you know everyone else in this room save for our new friend here," he gestures to the tall human with the mask, "I have invited him here today as I believe he may be of some help. His name is Artorias." Simeon gestures to the party. "Artorias, these are the heroes of Seaquen that you have heard about: Kirio and Arnir of Shahalesti and Bannock and Lars of Gate Pass. They were known as the Six from Gate Pass when accompanied by a fallen comrade, but new names have been cropping up for them ever since. I am personally partial to The Windswept Companions. We can continue introductions in a moment, but first I'd like to discuss why we brought you all here today. Balan, if you please?"
The large-bodied Balan sips delicately at his wine and casts a wan smile in your direction. “I suppose you are wondering what this is all about,” he says, “and I can’t say I blame you. Have you heard the recent news out of Ragesia? They’re dispatching an army to come take care of us. As soon as the mountain passes thaw on the border between Ragesia and Dassen we’ll have forty thousand or more soldiers headed our way. The downside of notoriety I fear.
“Regardless, with the damage to the town, even if the entire refugee population mustered, Seaquen can’t hope to defend itself on its own against the Ragesian army. Normally it would be a simple matter of requesting help from King Steppengard, since officially Seaquen is part of Dassen. Not like we actually pay taxes, though.” He grins.
“But the Ragesians have gone and made a non-aggression pact with the King.” Balan frowns. “We just got word this morning. An envoy from Ragesia promised that Empress Leska will not attack Dassen if their army is allowed to march through unmolested. Depending on how the weather goes, it looks like we have a month or two before our resistance is cut short.
“That’s where you, and potentially I, come in. Simeon here needs you to journey to Bresk, the capitol of Dassen, and use your persuasive skills to convince the King to change his mind. We’ve already sent ahead a courier requesting an audience for us, so hopefully they’ll be expecting us. Now, we’re not particularly keen on officially allying with Dassen, but if we pledge our magical support to King Steppengard in this war, and play to his ego about how he is letting the Ragesians bully him, I think we have a shot.”
At this point, Simeon interrupts. “Try not to give away the town. Remember, we want to ‘offer our assistance at the king’s pleasure,’ not ‘pledge loyalty.’ We’re not joining his country, and we’re sure as hell not going to pay him taxes. We —”
Balan shakes his head. “They can try, but let’s not get too full of ourselves. We’re not a sovereign nation here. They'll likely need to say and do whatever is necessary to make sure that all the people here are safe from the Scourge. If Steppengard won’t listen, maybe one of the other nobles will."
“Anyway,” Balan continues, “back to you. As you can probably see, I am not a great warrior, nor am I an experienced traveler. I am however a trained diplomat and am willing to accompany you and speak on behalf of Seaquen if you require it. Though I have heard that the master Kirio is rather accomplished with words in his own right. The Ragesians already have an envoy in Bresk, so we should expect some trouble. Simeon has vouched for you fully. We need your help. I shudder to think what would happen to Lyceum if the Ragesian Scourge were to reach us.”