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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Pedestrian" data-source="post: 3900639" data-attributes="member: 40208">Xerxes leafed through the Book, comparing the entry on Elsir Vale with the map they had bought. Ruins of Drellin’s Ferry. Ruins of Nimon’s Gap. Mage’s Stand. Ruins of Talar. The Horde was not far from Brindol now. They’d been contacted by Sellyria, who had warned them of the Hand’s approach, and asked them to return home swiftly. Owls had been despatched to collect them.In the meantime, they had looked around the Ghostlord’s lair, after destroying both the phylactery and the orb. The ghostly lions that had previously illuminated the lair were gone now, as were the hobgoblins emissaries of the Red Hand, fled at the death of the Ghost Lord. A previously secret door had been left open, offering more potential for exploration. They had found a vault of treasure, wealth equal to what the elves held in trust. Sol had claimed a finely honed sword and an elephant talisman, having little interest in wealth. Even now, the warrior practiced with the keen-edged blade, acclimatising himself to its weight and feel. More interesting, to Xerxes at least, had been the mural in one of the chambers, offering tantalising hints of what had led the Ghostlord down his dark path, though no concrete answers.A gust of air, accompanied by an avian screech, ended Xerxes’s contemplation. The owls had arrived from Brindol. The bulk of their riches were now sealed in the vault of the Lion, to await their return in victory. The two of them mounted the pair of owls, and they were off.Flying was an exhilarating experience, not at all like the unsettling sensation of being pulled between two worlds when he walked with the Shadow. While he was above the world, he was still part of it.The sight of the Vale, and its state, served to provide unsettlement enough. The west of the Vale burned, clouds of smoke choking the air. Below, bands of goblins wolf-riders, hobgoblin looters, giant brigands dot the land. Farms in flames, trees torn up at the root, the earth blooded and scarred. The Shadow and the Other had long since left him but, though exhausted he could not sleep. For three hours they flew, the land beneath them a ruin. Then, ahead, Brindol. But closer, much closer, the teeming multitudes of the Red Hand. And circling above it, lazy, a vast red dragon, fire crackling around its maw. The owls banked hard, rose high, to avoid the beast.They descended, landing in the common grounds of Brindol, where a large crimson tent had been erected. Around it, a crowd had gathered, their faces now upturned at the arrival of Xerxes and Sol. Soft music filtered to their ears from the tent. Above, a lonely penant flickered in the slight night-time breeze, torchlight illuminating the symbol of the Dead Empress.A handsome man, dressed in red painted plate hurried over to them.“Greetings, sirs, might I ask a moment of your time?” The man’s slight accent gave him away for an Embrean. A Knight of the Ruby Lady, mused Xerxes. Missionaries spreading the unusual teachings of the Dead Empress as a preserved of beauty eternal. “My name is Alexander, and I would-““Where’s the Lord of Brindol?” Interrupted Sol, brusque as ever.“I would assume he is in his home, sir. My apologies, but I am not native to this city, and so can offer no further insight,” Alexander smiled, his white teeth contrasting with the smooth bronze skin of his face. “Please, I would ask you assistance, sirs. My fellows and I are trying to arrange for these people to be taken to Dennovar, and safety. They are scared, and need the reassurance of heroes.”“We… will try our best, Brother Alexander.” Xerxes offered. Alexander bowed. Before departing, he placed his hands upon each of them, a ruby glow suffusing his touch, and relieved some of their wounds.It actually proved easier then Xerxes had thought. No doubt aided by their arrival on owl-back, and exaggerated tales of the battle at Drellin’s Ferry, the awed populace responded quickly to Xerxes’ kind words and, when that didn’t work, Sol’s less subtle persuasions. As the last cart of people rumbled away, Xerxes noticed a woman with brilliant red hair, her arm in a sling. She was breathtakingly beautiful but there was something about her… She was gone.“My thanks, sirs.” Alexander bowed to the pair of them. “An honour to meet you.”“Allejandro!” called one of the Ruby Knights. The tall Embrean bowed once more and left them. Xerxes and Sol in turn headed into the centre of the city, to Lord Jarmaath’s hall.</blockquote>

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