It was a somber group of friends who left the hidden Khundari hunting lodge, and it’s even more hidden Ancient artifact, that gray Launta morning. It was the day of the Festival of Harps, in honor of the Immortal Brindar, usually a gay and merry time of stories and music. But none of the companions felt terribly festive… Vulk felt grief and worry for the youth he’d shared a night with, and Mariala was weighted by both grief and guilt, blaming herself for the boy’s unknown fate… Drake was bothered little by grief and not at all by guilt, but he was wrapped in a haze of pain and stiffness, gift of that damnable stone golem.

They had sealed up the hidden lodge that morning, although Vulk had to do most of the work, Mariala helping where she could, and had worked out the story they would tell the Sheriff when they reached Kar Vandol. They found a clearing several miles further on from the bluff, and set about making it look like this was where they had camped that fateful night.

They would tell the Sheriff that they had awakened the next morning to find Edan gone, his possessions and goods left behind, save for what he wore. They had searched for an entire day for the lad, and stayed a second night, but could find no sign of him. They had decided it was best to bring his goods on to their proper destination and report his loss to the proper authorities.

Did he wander off to piss and get taken my some wild beast? There was no spoor they could find. Did he run away from his master? He seemed happy enough, and proud of the responsibility he’d been given. In many ways a mystery was better than trying to provide a pat answer, Drake had argued, and in the end the others had agreed.

They arrived at the gates to Vandoltown just before sunset, exhausted and sore, but wasted no time in seeking out the Sheriff. He, however, was seeing no one before morning, so the companions found rooms at the Iron Maiden Inn. The choice was based on the recommendation of the castle’s seneschal, who had seemed friendly enough as he took charge of the ironwork carried by Edan’s donkeys.

The next morning the group was summoned to the castle and an audience with the Sheriff of Savartimshire, Ser Jenkus Demalian. A hard but reasonable and just man, he questioned them closely about the events surrounding the disappearance of the smith’s apprentice. But there seemed little reason to doubt their story, as told by a cantor of the Church; and besides, his goods have been safely delivered – small matter the fate of a careless apprentice boy, really.

“I would ask that you remain in town for a few days while I send men to investigate,” he said as he stood to end the interview. “In case I have further questions.” His smile didn’t reach his sea-gray eyes. The companions agreed, of course, recognizing an order in the request.

For the next three days they rested, seldom leaving their rooms at the inn, save to take meals in the common room. The weather remained as gray and cold as their thoughts, with occasional spats of rain and light hail. Vulk and Mariala studied, while Drake healed and contemplated how best to increase his odds of surviving his next fight… in his time with the mercenaries he’d never had to deal with anything more uncanny than angry men, but in less than two months on the road with Vulk he’d faced a hill troll and a golem. Kasira knew what would be next!

On the third day the Sheriff sent word that they were free to depart the town, if that was their wish, with thanks again for their help. And leave they did, that very morning, taking the ancient Imperial Highway west towards Savartim and their next task – telling those in authority of their great discovery. They took a slow pace, in regard for Drakes still-healing injuries, but still it took just two days to reach the city, the weather staying cool but clear. They entered the city gates at mid-day, and paused to consider their options one last time.

“Are we all still sure that this is what we want to do?” Vulk asked his companions, although he looked only at Mariala. He knew Drake would follow his lead, at least in this matter.

“Yes,” Mariala sighed. “I don’t think it’s right that we should keep such an amazing, not to say potentially powerful and dangerous, find to ourselves. It’s best to let wiser heads take over.

“I DO agree it’s best that no single element gains control of this artifact.” She threw a smile towards her friends as she wheeled her horse around. “Although I’ll wager that neither the Church nor the Guild will agree with us. So stick to the plan!”

With that she spurred her horse up one of the winding streets that lead up the hill from the eastern gate. Vulk and Drake shouted goodbye and turned the other way, to head towards the docks and the Temple complex that lay beyond them.

Mariala’s prediction that neither the Church nor Guild would be happy with the news they brought turned out to be spot on. Both she and Vulk were met with initial skepticism, but once they were able to convince their superiors of the seriousness of what they’d found, doubt turned to annoyance that they’d let such vital information fall into hands other than their own.

Both pointed out that they had had little choice, short of murder, which silenced the complaints, if it didn’t actually mollify anyone. And they both were kept close as their respective organizations sent experts, and armed men, to verify their claims. Vulk and Drake were confined to the Temple complex, while Mariala was given rooms at the Guild Hall of the Guild of Arcane Lore.

For six days they all remained isolated, Vulk studying and meditating, and Drake recuperating and working on his improved chemical arsenal in the Temple, and Mariala pursuing her own studies in the Guild Hall library. As the end of the month approached the cantors and scholars, and their guards, returned to Savartim – they had ridden out separately, but returned together.

The cantors had arrived at the hidden lodge, in the rain, to find the Guild scholars already there, if not yet inside. Tensions rode high for a time, but in the end logic and cooler heads prevailed, and the two groups combined to penetrate the Ancient site.

What they learned, and what was decided, the companions were not told, despite being called in questioning again during several days of meetings, held by both Temple and Guild alone and together. But on the first of Margas Vulk and Drake were called to the High Cantor’s chambers.

“It seems you did indeed stumble onto an amazing find,” he began without preamble. “One that not only may advance our understanding of the Ancients, but may change the balance of power not only here in the North, but across…” He trailed off and shook his head, as if dismissing the thought.

“In any case, Cantor Vulk, it is a matter of the utmost importance and secrecy, at least for now. Should certain elements learn of this… well, much discussion has been devoted to how to keep that secrecy intact. And much time wasted wishing you had not shared this find with a… ‘scholar’” he sneered over the word, “of the Arcanist’s Guild.”

“But it is what it is, and we must move on from here. You are both enjoined, under penalty of ultimate sanction, to remain silent about what you know of this Ancient facility and it’s artifact…” He paused again. “You’re quite certain you found no other, lesser artifacts within the site?” he asked, squinting in suspicion.

“No your Grace, we did not,” Vulk replied smoothly. “Only some tarnished Khundari coins, which we sent through the… gate… to aid the boy we inadvertently banished.” He had no intention of telling anyone that they’d thrown away a priceless Ancient artifact; he knew for a certainty that Mariala would remain silent!

“Hmmfh,” the High Cantor sniffed. “Well, in any case, we feel it’s best if you continue on your year’s sabbatical Cantor Vulk.” He stared briefly at Drake, adding “And take your bodyguard with you.”

Vulk and Drake left the opulent room both relieved and annoyed.

“He didn’t even require us to swear our silence,” Drake huffed. “Arrogant bastard.”

“I think he felt the threat was enough,” Vulk replied. “He is a bit of an ass… I wish I could have confided all this in my old mentor instead. Him I would have trusted. But it seems we’re free again, so let us pack up and repair to some more hospitable digs my friend!”

“I’ll agree to that with a will,” Drake grinned. “The beds here are torture on my poor broken body…. and anyway, I’ve got all I can from the Temple apothecary. I hear the Sign of the Broken Wheel is quite a decent place, and it’s near the Arcanist’s Guild Hall.”

And so before the day was out the two had decamped from the Temple and taken a large room at the said inn, sending word to Mariala of their changed situation and inviting her to sup with them that evening.

When she arrived they ordered food sent up, and retired to their chamber to talk away from prying ears. The boys quickly filled her in on their tenday, then encouraged her to tell what she knew.

“Not much more than you, I’m afraid,” she said regretfully. “The master of my Order here is perhaps not quite the jackass as your High Cantor sounds, but he was not best pleased with having to share this momentous find with the Church.

“I asked to be a part of the group that will be studying the site, but he was adamant that it was no place for one so inexperienced and young.” She frowned into her wine glass. “And given what I did to poor Edan, I suppose he’s right.”

“Oh bullshit,” exclaimed Drake. “It was an accident, one that your so-wise and no-doubt-elderly Master could just as well have made. Stop flogging yourself over it!”

Mariala shrugged noncommittally, but looked up to continue. “When I asked him what was to be done with the site, all he would say is that our top people would be looking into it… whoever “our top people” might be.

“I haven’t been banished from the Guild Hall, like you have from the Temple, but I do get the strong feeling that many people would be glad to see me go… elsewhere.”

The three of them stared glumly into their drinks for a time, and picked at the remains of their meal.

“Well, you’re welcome to continue travelling with us,” Vulk offered. “Once we know where we’re going. It won’t be for another tenday or two, though, until Drake is fully healed.”

“I’m not sure what I’ll be doing,” Mariala replied, “but I appreciate the offer. The library here has enough to keep me occupied for awhile, so however uncomfortable my presence makes some people, I’m happy to stay where I am.” She tossed back her wine and poured more from the bottle on the table.

The next tenday saw the friends settle into a routine, of study for Mariala and Vulk, and healing and chemical research for Drake. Vulk, concerned about the recent violent turn his life seemed to have taken, visited a well-spoken-of armorer in town and commissioned a kurbul breastplate and matching backplate, to wear under his tunic; Mariala found a weaponcrafter of some note, and had a fitting handle placed on the Khundari blade she’d found; and Drake slowly began exercising, regaining some lost conditioning.

They all attended the Midwives’ Festival on the 5th, so Drake could seek out a few last ingredients for his still hush-hush alchemical project, and they often dined together, sometimes at the inn, sometimes at the Guild Hall. Mariala studied her new dagger, and came to discover it did indeed carry some dwarven enchantment… it’s edge never dulled, and her skill with it was clearly, markedly better than with her old dagger. It seemed almost to anticipate her moves.

A tremendous storm blew down from the mountains, wind and rain and sleet, and lasted for two days. Sun and mild weather soon followed, only to be followed again by rain. And so the days went. Vulk and Drake began to spar and train together, and Mariala was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t seek better training in arms herself… but her books and scrolls called more strongly, and she put off the idea for the time.

On the 13th invitations were delivered to each of the three companions, left at their lodgings by persons unknown, inviting them to a private dinner at the public party to be thrown by the Inn of the Golden Eye the following evening. The reason for the party, of course, was the Banquet of Delights, an epicurean celebration of the Immortal Kalura, goddess of love, beauty and wealth. A popular holiday of good food, strong drink, and sexual license, the party at the Inn of the Golden Eye was one of the most exclusive in the city, attended by only the best people, generally.

“Who could be inviting us to such an event.” Mariala wondered when they’d gathered to discuss the invitations. “I don’t think any of us know anyone of that social station here in Savartim.”

“Perhaps it’s someone with a taste for attractive young people,” Drake leered. “It is a private dinner, after all, and these celebrations are famous for ending in all sorts of hot, slippery –”

“Oh shut up, you pig,” Mariala snorted, throwing a crust of bread at his head. “Be serious!”

Drake caught the crust and took a bite, grinning.

“Very well, I’ll be serious,” he said, dropping the crust and picking up his invitation. He turned it towards the candle light, angling it slightly towards his companions. A water mark was thus visible, an eleven-pointed, double tailed star.

“Now where have we seen that before,” he asked, somewhat smugly in the face of his friend’s surprise.