Prologue (Move 14)
30 Flamerule 1372 DR, Caerrhen, Damara-Impiltur border
It is currently unseasonably warm and uncomfortable in northwestern Impiltur, with uncharacteristically high humidity. There is no noticeable wind.
Yanis Princetonson, Approximately 1000 hours
The stairs are fairly solid, if a bit creaky and warped, and lead into the kitchen. Dusty and with a fair amount accumulated debris in the corners of the room, as well as in the old fireplace, the room has the faint smell of well-preserved and firmly entrenched rodent droppings. Amidst the debris in the fireplace, you can see a small cast iron cauldron.
One large doorway opens up the kitchen into the main sitting area of the house. Presumably a dining room and sitting room combination, the room has a small fireplace in the corner and some well-worn and fairly flimsy looking blackwood furniture. The walls have a number of bookshelves against them, mostly empty, although you can see a few books here and there, amidst cobwebs and rubbish. Varied debris and a good deal of dust cover the floor, only interrupted by a set of meandering human boot-prints.
Karok gestures into the room — “This is where I found it, Yanis. I think it was on a bookshelf, but it might have been over on the mantle near the fireplace. It was certainly here, though, I mean,” he gestures at his boots, “those are my footprints...I think.”
Korbi Gobknocker, Approximately 1115 hours
Isaanhen looks at you puzzledly for a moment, and then shakes his head, "A were-rat? That's...odd, to say the least. Well, I'll tell my superior, and that's probably the best I can do for you. A were-rat's more than likely going to be too much for either of us to handle without some solid sort of backup..."
As you head out the door, you can hear Isaanhen mumbling to himself about were-beasts, elves, historical conflicts, all sorts of interesting, but not immediately pertinent things. Running around the side of the temple, you see Goblin happily munching on his rat. — Oh! It's you. You're awfully anxious about something.
Asking him about where the were-rat went, you get a rather unhelpful answer — I'm certain that the two-legged one riding the large Petal has more than handled that beast. I haven't seen any more of them. You're certainly all worked up. Have you seen my rat? And with this, Goblin proudly presents the rat for your inspection.
Ezra Geonora, Approximately 1315 hours
The "estate" of Commander Alistar Heddesen is a modest house located just off the banks of the River Icehilt and surrounded by an ornate, cast-iron fence. A man at the gates, likely a member of Caerrhen’s often mentioned, rarely seen town guard, directs you to tie your horse off to the hitching post just inside the fence. “After you’ve finished with that, you can head inside. The Commander’s office is the first door on the left.”
The inside of the house is well decorated, with a number of paintings on the wall in the entryway and tastefully designed blackwood furniture. The quality of the furniture and the artistic merits of the paintings speak to the clout and status Cmmdr. Heddesen holds in Caerrhen. You can hear voices coming from the first room on your left — his office, from what the guard told you. Inside, six men stand around a table examining the body of a furry humanoid. Four men are guards, judging by their uniform posture and appearance, one a laborer of some sort (to judge by his clothes), and the last is a tall man with a military bearing.
The tall man turns to you as you enter, fixing his hard, pale blue eyes on you — “Well, yes. Can I help you?”
Daan, Approximately 1315 hours
You follow Vadim through the unfinished doorwat into the temple of Ilmater. The interior is quiet, occupied only by three figures — a woman dressed entirely in white robes sits in a pew in front of the altar and two young elves in blue robes working on the stained glass panels. Upon hearing you enter, the two elves start, but the woman priest calmly rises to greet you, he face moving from polite to concerned when she sees Vynchens in Vadim’s arms. Vadim begins to speak, “Lady Assa —“, but the priestess cuts him off.
“Place your wounded before the altar and I will see what I can do.” Tracing the scorch marks and burns with her fingers and gently probing the wounds, she sighs. “He is very far gone, my son. If the spirit is willing, I may be able to help, but I would need…” She leaves the rest unfinished and places a sympathetic hand on Vadim’s shoulder. “It will be very difficult for me to help him, and for someone not of the Ilmaterian faith, well, it will be difficult for his friends, as well. I am sorry, but I cannot abuse Ilmater’s graces. Take a little time, my son Vadim, and think it over. I stand willing to help.”
Vadim nods and moves off to one of the stained glass panels, staring at it in quiet contemplation.
