aster Ecor and Y’vigne’ have seen to your wounds and have expended many vials of Healing potions to assure you and your team are at your absolute best for the trials still to come. Once they are satisfied that your strength and vigor are back to their robust self, they ask you to join them in the galley below. Sevestia wishes to impart the last bit of information that she knows about the traitor Master Orata and his plans for the overthrow of the Sorcerer-King of Ymandragore.
The meeting inside the Way of the Pearl’s captain’s quarters is somber and tense. Gone is the jubilance and excitement of the victory over the Harvesters. All are now focused upon Sevestia’s whose icy tones, which though low, manage to drown out the celebration still going on upon the ship’s deck.
“With a Black Ship in our possession, you now have a chance to slip into the harbor of Ymandragore without being destroyed outright.
“At the top of the stairs from the harbor there are places where the Harvesters come to sell whatever they cannot use. These slavers, I’ve been told, are a suspicious lot and have actually created a ritual about the transfer of goods. What these phrases and counter phrases are is unknown to me, but you have proven yourselves to be a resourceful lot. You should be able to pass yourselves off competently, if not with one, then with another of the slavers there.
“Once the boy has been handed off to begin his infection, you have only one more task before leaving Ymandragore: Free my father from Orata’s grasp.
“Orata will be finalizing his plans upon the Ordainer’s isle off the coast of the Isle of Tears. Which of the hundreds of archipelagos that dot the Gulf of Yarris I do not know. But my father does. He has been there many times and can easily guide you there.
“When last I saw my father, he was casting a spell to teleport me away, when Orata and his cronies burst in. They could not stop the incantation, but I’m sure they captured my father and are holding him, most probably within Orata’s manse upon Ymandragore. My father has been on the island for too long and is too well known for him to be sold or used as a power node. He will most likely be imprisoned, out of sight, until Orata’s plans either succeed or fail.
“Deliver him back to me and I will guarantee his cooperation in divulging the information he has on Orata.”
Clearing his throat, Master Ecor looks upon each of you in turn. “I am sorry that such a frightful task has fallen upon you. You have proven yourselves beyond what any of us could hope or expect. Rest here for now. Your best hope is to sail into the harbor in the dead of night. Tomorrow will be soon enough. It would be foolhardy to send you into Ymandragore now.
“Before you set sail in the morning, I will cast upon you a spell that will allow you to understand and speak Ymandrake for a period of 36 hours. That should provide you with enough time to arrive, attend to your task and leave that place.”
“A word of caution,” says Y’vigne’. “The boy grows sicker by the day. I fear that he will not live too many more. He seems to be exuding the illness now, not by casting any spells, but be his mere presence. We believe that for the safety of any Sorcerer traveling with the boy, that they refrain from casting any spells while in his presence. Though we have no guarantee that this will prevent infection, it is the best the Masters of the Orders could deduce from studying the boy and his illness.”
With a final goodbye, they turn and leave without another word, except for Sevestia. After a long pause, she says, “I have lived upon that malignant tumor of a place for two of your centuries, regarded more as an experiment than a sentient being. My father and I have always held great contempt for the lesser beings of Arcanis, especially the humans.”
Lowering her eyes for a moment, you see her impregnable shell crack for a moment as she fights back tears. “My father is the only being who has ever loved and cared for me. I have never depended on anyone but him…ever. Bring him back to me and I shall be forever in your debt, both in this incarnation and those that will come. Willfully fail and I will become all that you fear from Orata and so much more.”
Without another word, she turns and closes the door. The cheers above sound all the more hollow with the Sevestia’s words still echoing in your ears.