While the party has
been embroiled in the chaos of the talent show massacre, Digby followed up a
lead on a fearsome war beast bought to the city by a travellers from a distant
land. He was successful in finding the group of foreigners and is allowed to view
the war beast (war rhino) after buying the group another round of drinks.
After learning of the events of the previous days, Digby accompanies Galen and Kage to the merchant district in search of answers about the Lovage Tournament Armour that Galen stole back from his uncle. First heading back to the LANCED SHIELD, they are directed by the owner to seek out the retired arms enchanter MORT, a regular figure at the local BAR WITH NO NAME. The group finds MORT, a wizened figure hunched with age and preserved by the strong liqueur clutched in his shrivelled hands. As the party approaches, MORTs eye is first drawn to the feather Digby has carried since childhood. MORT takes the feather from Digby and after a brief examination sends it thudding into a sideboard with a casual, yet surprising deft, flick of his wrist. MORT is familiar with this particular species of illusive avian and goes on to explain that they are a migratory species that circles the southern landmass every quarter century.
Galen then approaches the old man and lifts the bundle containing his armour. Although he has finally retrieved his fathers armour, the act has left him unfulfilled and wearing the armour has left him feeling increasingly uneasy. MORT recognised the armour but was reluctant to provide any further information, eventually directing Galen to speak to a Carter named HELENA in the marketplace. The party departed after MORT gave Galen an ominous warning -
“The young remember the world differently before they have experienced it and often ask for answers they are not prepared to hear. Now that you have reclaimed the good name of your father, young sir, be careful about how many of your beliefs you may be willing to unravel. For in order to find your answers and clear your name, you may be required to forsake it.”
The party swiftly locates the carter in the Marketplace. Affixed to the side of the cart is a sweeping tent of brilliant blue that instantly captures the attention of the corvine Digby. Kage has once again vanished leaving Digby and Galen to approach the ageing hag that runs the stall. Upon hearing Galens request for information, HELENA invites him into the tent for a private palaver. Digby declines to join, enraptured as he is by the subtle movement of the sapphire fabric. Unseen by the trio, Kage slips deftly under the fabric of the tent as the entry flap is lowered and steps deep in to the shadowy corner.
Inside the tent, HELENA gestures for Galen to sit opposite her at a low table adorned with a thick cloth covering. On the table sits a wide, shallow silver bowl devoid of contents. Taking his seat, Galen pulls out his bundle of armour and presents it to the woman. HELENA slowly draws a long nail over the golden plates of fine steel producing a ringing sound that seems to hang in the air. Standing silently in the shadows, Kage observes that the crone appears to place greater focus on the curious green leather and strapping that hold the golden plates rather than the distinctly magically plates themselves. Long minutes pass before Galen mustered up the nerve to ask a question about the magical properties of the armour. However, as he opened his mouth to speak the woman raised her finger to silence him.
“You wish to live a good life, to honour your fathers memory? Then you must never wear this armour again.”
At these words Galen was stunned and began to protest. Helena interrupted him absently, proclaiming
“I did not know your father, nor did I know him by the deeds he committed. I know only that he wore this armour and understand exactly what that would have done to him. After further protestations from Galen, HELENA again motioned him to be silent, this time gesturing to the shallow dish in front of her.
“Place your hand into the bowl as far as you may.”
Galen leant forward and reached outwards towards the silver vessel. Unexpectedly, he found himself leaning further and further forward as his arm lowered impossibly deep into the bowl. A sharp and searing pain sent him rocking back into his seat clutching his arm. From his corner, Kage could see that the hand was horribly raw and puckered around the wrist - poison!