The chest in the chambers of the Winter King proved to be a treasure trove indeed, and well worth the time it took for the Hand to defeat its final protection. Even with the Gynatari wizard dead, the natural power of the Avikor sanctum continued to oppress rival powers, most especially Devrik’s. But with the malevolent presence of the Winter King removed, Korwin was, quite literally, in his element.

Nonetheless, if took him well over an hour to sublimate away the block of magical ice that had encased the chest. The others explored the rest of the complex as he worked, but found nothing of any great interest, All were gathered back in the treasury room as the last of the ice fell away. It took Toran and Korwin’s combined strength to open the lid, and their eyes widened at what lay within.

Toran’s hands immediately reached out to lift up a blue velvet-lined tray that held six cut gemstones, and he avidly examined and appraised each one, a deeply Khundari glitter in his dark eyes. There were two chrysolites, a diamond, a garnet, an emerald and the most perfect sapphire he’d ever seen.

“These gems are… staggering,” he told the others. “Their cut, their clarity, their size – these are literally the sort of gems that end up in a kingdom’s crown jewels! I’m not the expert that some of my cousins are, but I’d guess these stones to be worth close to 70,000 silver pennies in any Umantari land… and more in a Khundari realm.”

“Maybe crown jewels was exactly what the Winter King intended to use them for, once his conquests were complete,” Mariala suggested, lifting up the emerald to admire the verdant fire in its heart. Green had always been her favorite color…

But as compelling as the gemstones were, there were other items in the chest that generated awe, curiosity and puzzlement. One by one the various pieces were lifted out and examined, and everyone kept an eye on Korwin. There were four jars or vials, the contents of which were not immediately obvious; three written works, all apparently from the Early to Late Imperial Age; two pieces of jewelry, a somewhat garish ring and a stunning circlet of platinum; a wand of bone or ivory; a gladiator’s net and a round shield; and finally, the most puzzling object of all, a small stone-looking vase with a rough stone sphere floating just inside its mouth.

All three of the written works were in what appeared to be an archaic form of the Gyantari native tongue Ruzuvic, written in the Razali script of those people. No one spoke or read the language, but Toran pointed out that their Gyantari friend Ergaboreth presumably still waited for them at home in Shalara, and might be able to help translate.

As they packed up all the treasures for transportation back to Zurhan, Korwin handled each one in an attempt to determine something of their nature or history, while the other mages cast various spells to detect any magical energies. Everything except the vials and books had some touch of the magical, some more strongly than others. The odd vase/sculpture/object d’mystery was more ambiguous – until Korwin touched it. The instant headache and tingling in all his limbs was proof enough that it was an Ancient artifact.

As they were preparing to leave the Halls of Winter King for the last time, Devrik revealed that he would be leaving them for a side trip of his own. He had realized that they were not all that far from Dor Dür, in a direct line, and the old widow in Winter’s Forge had told him of mountain trails that would get him there without too much trouble, even in winter. He planned to collect Raven and Aldari and bring them to Kar Gevdan.

“We’ll return by the southern roads, of course,” he explained. “Then take ship in Tyendus, down the Silvereye up the Arakez Canal, and finally a sea-going ship from Lirilal to Gevdan. I expect to see you all in less than a tenday, if the weather holds.”

The journey back to Winter’s Forge for the others was relatively easy, and they decided to spent the night there again. Mariala and Vulk were invited to stay with the widow Arella, while the others made do as before. For most of the townsfolk the Hand offered up vague comments about their trip, the thrill of being so close to history, blah, blah, blah. But for Arella, the two friends told the entire story. The old woman was enthralled, and thrilled to have been proven right – both in her fear of the imprisoned giant-sorcerer and in her accurate assessment of the group.

They left early the next morning, but took a more leisurely pace, not least because Vulk was thoroughly entranced by his new staff, pausing often to play with it. Or, as far as the others could tell, just sit and stare at it intensely. But the weather was very fair, if cold, and no one was in a particular hurry. The group arrived back in Zurhan in the mid-morning of 25 Novara, just ahead of a major winter storm. By that afternoon they were closeted in an intimate, fire-warmed room with Master Vetaris, the King and the Crown Princess, relating all that had unfolded in the mountains as the snow blanketed the city.

Three days later was Devrik’s 26th birthday, and the Hand was back at Kar Gevdan, when Devrik surprised them all by arriving that afternoon with his wife Raven and their son the wee baby Aldari, having made record time. Devrik seemed strangely glad to see his friends, hugging them each in turn with some heartfelt words of greeting. Even Korwin.

“By Kasira, you act like you haven’t seen us in a year,” Vulk laughed, feeling to make sure his friend hadn’t cracked any ribs. Devrik smiled at him oddly.

“You don’t know the half of it, old friend,” he’d sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it, but not tonight… tonight we party!”

Indeed, the Baron decreed a celebration that night to mark the return of his nephew, and the arrival of his niece-in-law and grand-nephew. It was attended by all Devrik’s local family, their friends, and a significant portion of the surviving Tharkian nobility. The latter were mainly there, Devrik thought somewhat cynically, because the Crown Princess Relina was a guest herself.

Vox had returned from his own visit to the south the evening before the party, to Haplo’s relief – he wouldn’t be the only relative newcomer at the celebration. At the dinner Vox treated him to that night, at the finest inn in Zurhan, he realized he’d really missed the wandering bard and his story-telling skills. He wasn’t sure how much of his tale of southern intrigue and danger he believed, but he enjoyed it anyway.

Both men were, surprisingly, instantly taken with Devrik’s son when they met him the next day. The boy seemed enthralled by Haplo’s silver hair and Vox’s violet eyes, and they both readily agreed to take charge of the babe when his mother needed a break, competing to see who could make him laugh the most.

“Although, you say he’s not yet a year old?” Vox had said to Mariala, once Raven had gone off with Princess Relina to help her prepare for the party. “I don’t know much about children, but he seems… much older than that to me. I mean, I don’t think I was talking at this age…”

“Well, yes, he does seem to have grown tremendously since last I saw him,” Mariala admitted, playing pat-a-cake with the… well, no longer a baby, really… and frowned in puzzlement. “Still, he’s a rather special boy, so maybe he’s just a fast grower, amongst his other… talents.”

The birthday itself was a relatively restrained affair, thanks to the presence of the Princess, but once the royal and noble guests had departed the next morning, the party had continued for another two days, in typical Olvânaali fashion. While the men reveled in the drinking, contests of strength and epic story telling, Raven had had quite enough after that first day, and retired with the baby to the chamber the Baron had given over to the use of his nephew and niece. Mariala joined for some quiet talk, having had enough of the carousing herself. The two women had always gotten on well, but this was the first time in a long while that they’d had to just enjoy one another’s company. They shared stories of their respective, and very different, youths and Mariala was able to provide a different perspective on the tales of the Hand’s adventures than Devrik shared with his wife.

It was also where Mariala learned what had really transpired on their recent trip from Dor Dür. Suddenly Aldari’s amazing growth spurt made more sense! She entirely agreed with Raven’s request that they keep the story private, just another secret of the Hand.

Most of the men, meanwhile, were variously incapacitated over the three day celebration by sex, drink, and ballads… and a few fights, none of them fatal, thankfully. The Baron did opine, with apparent sadness, that this latter fact was proof of the decline of his proud folk into the decadence of “civilization.” But that not withstanding, he declared the celebration a success – just before he passed out over his mead horn.

The first of Margas finally saw the company sobering up (and nursing hangovers at differing levels of legendary). Raven was adamant that the celebration of her son’s first birthday, a tenday hence, would be a quiet family affair. Even Lord Tynal hesitated to argue with her implacable certainty on the matter, and left the matter entirely to the mother, Mariala and his own daughter, Nina. Princess Relina herself added a few suggestions, and a small purse, when she visited again for the celebration of the Midwives’ Festival on the 5th.

In between their own studies, sparring workouts and the on-going examination of the items recovered from the Winter King’s treasury, each member of the Hand of Fortune worked on a gift for the wee baby Aldari. Each gift was meant to be a unique reflection of themselves for their honorary godson to remember them by as he grew older.

The day of the party was gray, wet and cold, but the Great Hall of Kar Gevdan was warm and well-lit with two large fires, scores of candles in chandeliers and sconces, and bronze braziers scattered about the tables. The blue and silver decorations of the winter season festooned the walls and windows, and Vulk invoked the Immortals’ blessings before the feast began.

While the guest of honor was mostly oblivious to the festivities, he did enjoy gnawing on a bone that Brann kept eying forlornly from his spot beneath the child’s highchair, and was particularly taken with the colorful scraps of cloth and ribbon that wrapped many of his gifts – if not so much with the gift themselves. His parents, however, were greatly moved by the treasures that their friends offered up to their son, each one clearly the result of great personal thought and deep love.

The following 35 days, until the quaternary celebration of spring on the Saridás, were spent in various individual pursuits and the occasional pairing up of two or more of the friends. The tail end of winter in Tharkia was colder, and brought more snowfall, than usual, but was also interspersed with stretches of bright, clear days which, if still colder than the area’s maritime climate was used to, made enjoyment of the city and countryside’s winter wonderland a delight.

Devrik, Raven and the wee toddler Aldari spent most of the time at Kar Gevdan, enjoying a long stretch of uninterrupted time together as a family. They visiedt their friends twice at their quarters in Master Vetaris’ former safe house, now the official consulate of the Kingdom of Ukalus, when the weather allowed. The toddler was somewhat bemused, on these visits, at the number of snowmen (and women) his putative uncles and aunts insisted he build with them… although he actually seemed more interested in learning to throw snowballs.

On the night of the Banquet of Delights, the holy celebration sacred to Kalura, the Immortal of Love and Beauty, Vulk, Erol and Vox attended an exclusive party at the House of the Blue Moon, one of Zurhan’s most elite entertainment establishments. It was to be a festive night, but took on a different quality as they became embroiled in the Mystery of the Missing Courtesan.

The proprietress of the house, Misandril went suddenly missing, and through a wild and dangerous night the three pursued the matter. By an hour after sunrise they had returned the grateful lady to her rightful House, slain a number of miscreants, and brought the mastermind of the plot to the King’s Justice.

They were amply rewarded in ways that pleased them all far more than mere money would have. Vulk was in a slightly melancholy mood as they headed home in the gray dawn, but Erol soon cheered him up with the reminder that they still had a significant line of credit at the House of the Blue Moon…

Korwin’s 26th birthday followed just two days later. He skipped out of town, despite Mariala’s attempts to throw him a party, to spend a few days at Kar Gevdan… and by the slate-gray sea. Raven and Devrik insisted he join them for a sedate (by their standards) family dinner on the evening of his birthday, but for several days after they left him to his own devices. His time spent walking the strand and, on one occasion, taking a small skiff out on the waters of Borathet Bay, seemed to recharge his soul and he returned to Zurhan more relaxed and centered than he’d been in a long time.

Toward the end of Margas Haplo and Toran, after several long days together investigating the powers and possible command words for the strange wand recovered from the halls of the Winter King, spent a raucous evening making the rounds of some of the more disreputable gambling dens and drinking houses of the city. An unfortunate misunderstanding over what may, or may not, have been illusory gold used to place a bet and unfounded accusations of Khundari manipulation of a certain roulette wheel, led to a spectacular brawl, a running fight through the alleys of Cheapside, the burning down of two taverns and a brothel, and ended in the appearance of a massive blue dragon on the roof of a tenement.

The dragon’s ear-splitting roar and fierce display of the prodigiously long and sharp teeth lining its gaping maw, brought the chase to a sudden halt. As the beast stooped down upon them, its great wings stretching across the street and blocking out the almost-full greater moon, the denizens of the ghetto suddenly realized that perhaps their grievances with the Dwarf and the silver-haired human were not that important in the larger scheme of things… and simultaneously remembered pressing engagements in quite distant parts of the city.

As the dragon took to the air and vanished over the roofs of the city, Toran and Haplo quickly made their way back to the better part of town and home… down a little gold perhaps, but richer in experience and knowledge. Haplo was particularly happy that he’d figured out how to use his new Wand of Draconic Illusion, at least in part. They both agreed it had been a great night and they should do it again. But maybe not soon…

Mariala spent much of her time, when not engaged in personal study or the examination of the loot from the Winter King, visiting with the Crown Princess Relina and her chief Lady-in-Waiting Nina Askalan, forging significant bonds with both women. Relina, at 21, was a very self-contained and reserved woman, but with a quiet and wicked sense of humor, when she let it out. Mariala noted many similarities, and a few stark differences, between the Princess and Queen Miralda. She also developed a positive fondness for Devrik’s cousin, Nina, just a few months younger than herself, and possessed of both a fierce intelligence and great physical courage.

Lady Nina occasionally joined Mariala for her twice-weekly training sessions with Ser Erol, both to learn from the ex-gladiator’s varied combat techniques and to share her own Northern battle training with her new friend. But it was just Mariala and Erol on the afternoon of 11 Sarnia when he asked her if she’d care to join him that evening to help him celebrate his his 658th birthday (or at least his body’s birthday; his… spirit’s? Soul’s?… 26th birthday wouldn’t be until Vento).

They enjoyed a pleasant evening of good food and wine at the Singing Mermaid Inn, talking about the metaphysical puzzles of Erol’s unique situation and her own evolution as a mage and adventurer. Pleasant, that is, right up until they stumbled across a Darikazi ring of spies and slavers operating out of the inn… the resultant contretemps affected only the wing of the building directly under the collapsed cellar, fortunately, and did net half a score of brain-fried spies, seven dead ones, and a dozen youths freed from bondage.

Two days later, in the early hours of the morning of 13 Sarnia, a moderate earthquake shook the region around Zurhan and Kar Gevdan, waking everyone with a jolt. Several buildings in the city suffered minor damage, and five people were injured, with similar causalities reported from Kar Gevdan and its town. Things were quickly cleaned up, and the event was barely a road bump in the preparations for the upcoming spring equinox celebrations.

The big three day festival to celebrate the end of winter and beginning of spring began on 15 Sarnia with the Alean festival of the Blessing of the Rains. It was followed by Sardiás itself, the High Holy Day of Spring, and concluded with Kasira’s own Festival of Luck. Cantor Ser Vulk was asked to preside over the King’s own household celebration in the royal castle, and all the Hand were present, along with the Baron of Gevdan and his sons and retainers.

The day after that very auspicious Kasiran celebration Vulk, Devrik and Mariala were summoned to the King’s private audience chamber for a breakfast meeting. Master Vetaris was there along with Tamor Lahanus, the King’s brother-in-law and Lord Chancellor of the realm. The formalities were somewhat perfunctory, as everyone already knew everyone else, and the group was quickly seated at the large table under the great chandelier that lit the windowless room.

“We have asked you here,” the Lord Chancellor began, “because His Majesty has a request of you… that is, of your adventuring company, the Hand of Fortune.

“Although you are agents of the crown of Ukalus,” the King took up the thread,” nonetheless you have proven more than once to be friends Us, Our family and Our realm. With the advice and consent of Master Vetaris, We would ask you to undertake one more task for Tharkia before you leave Us.

“No, no,” he smiled when they demurred. “I know you all long to return to your own homes and your own affairs, and I suspect you have tarried this long only because Ser Devrik’s family was able to join him here. But the weather has turned with the season, and in no more than a tenday, two at the most, the roads will begin to be passable.” He frowned suddenly at that, a suffered a small coughing fit.

“Forgive me,” he said, sipping from a goblet of heavily watered wine. “I just can’t seem to shake this cough. In any case, once the roads are clear the spring campaigning season will begin, and the remaining mercenary forces that my… that were brought into my realm are not under my control. Before a peace with Ukalus can be cemented these alien forces must be rooted out and the Crown regain full control of the realm once more.

“In the meantime, a most disturbing bit of intelligence has come to Our Lord Chancellor from a small village in the Verduth Woods in the south. It seems that a great many people have gone missing in recent months, and strange, perhaps uncanny, events have plagued the area. With the kingdom still in such disarray, and Our forces so scattered and divided, the usual resources are not available to Lord Tamor.”

“Indeed,” the Chancellor agreed with a sigh. “When word first reached me, I perhaps did not take it as seriously as I should have… but given the disarray of the city and… well, suffice it to say, I sent two men-at-arms, all I felt I could spare, to investigate the matter. It’s been over a tenday and there’s been no word… until today, when another messenger arrived from the Reeve of Hart’s Lodge Village. More lurid and confused tales and the vanishing of the King’s Men…”

“Given the possibly arcane nature of the problem,” Master Vetaris said, “it was thought that the Hand might be best equipped to deal with… whatever awaits in this isolated woodland village. Assuming you’re willing to undertake the quest, of course…”