Epilogue
Hilvada is alive with celebration after the last of the undead have been felled outside the city gates. Drinks are flowing freely, and the party finds themselves at the center of the jubilation.
Keen Bill jumps on to a table to make a rousing speech. First, he extolls the deeds of his fellow party members and garrison soldiers, commending their bravery and strength in the face of such evil. Once he is finished praising everyone for their hard work, he turns to the crowd, saying that there is always room for more in their modest party, and would anyone care to join them on their adventures? He smiles and looks around in awkward silence, as not a single soul shows any interest in his offer. Finally, he steps down, not a little dejected, and a tall high elf stands, raises a finger, clears his throat, and says, "Yes." And so, the merry band has increased its members by one.
The heavily-robed high elf warlock isn't long on words but seems amicable enough to ingratiate himself to Keen Bill (and every other figure of authority he meets). The party finishes their celebration with drink, song, and stew. The morning dawns crisp and merry, everyone excited to raid the hidden trove they spotted under the Solce family dockhouse. Unfortunately, the burned bones of the building make delving for treasure difficult. The damage does, however, work in their favor as two particularly nasty traps are found buried and ineffectual. An arrow-catching shield, gold, random curios, and a potion of healing survived the blaze.
One loose end remains, literally dangling from Bosnun's longsword. Unknown to his friends the obelisk has been whispering sweet promises to the mind of the goliath. The meager resistance he can mount comes in small conversation cues he desperately hopes his allies understand. Everyone took the warnings of Kaylah seriously, so with some convincing they get Bosnun to surrender the longsword, now mysteriously fused with the length of chain and obelisk, into a stout barrel. Then, as if it were perfectly natural, he picks up the barrel and carries it with him everywhere he goes. This draws a few gawks from strangers and comrades alike.
If the black relic is holding a sway over the indomitable goliath, then it might be best to return it with haste to Drexx at the Tower of the Lily, so the team sets off for Wayward again. A familiar journey at this point, the road passes without incident. At the tower, Bill and Bosnun approach the frail form of Drexx with purpose, but Bosnun freezes in his tracks when it comes time to deposit the barrel with the old man. He isn't in control of his body, but he can softly call out, "Guys, help. I can't seem... to let go of this." Loci, resigned to the needs of the group, reluctantly grabs hold of the barrel and lifts it mightily above his head. The barrel rises easily but Bosnun with it! Now dangling a foot off the ground, Bosnun asks for a little more help. Bill jumps up and wraps his arms around the substantial waist of the brute and lets gravity do all the work. Popping free, Bosnun springs back away from the barrel, a bit embarrassed at being so easily drawn into the sweet whispers of power.
Drexx, finding this all to be very amusing, cackles heartily. "She is persistent, isn't she? Thank you for returning her; don't worry, her words have no power over me." He lightly twists the obelisk open at the base. It is a drow dark box. Only when the sun is swallowed by the horizon does it unlock. Out falls a glowing blue lily in a clay pot. The press of life-force floods out over everyone in the room. It's alive, not as a flower has life but as a hurricane has life. Pure force, will, and energy tinged with malice.
Drexx snaps his skin-tight fingers, and one of the nearest armors suddenly animates and draws a sturdy, plain box from his desk's collection. Bill looks inside. It is completely bare. With a mischievous glimmer in his dry eyes, Drexx asks, "Give me three words, if you please; one for a small vessel, one for a large vessel, and one for nothing." At a loss, Bill pauses in thought and replies, "Vial, galleon, and wind." Another small cackle at the last word washes out of Drexx, "As you wish. What I give you is a folding boat. Placing your hands upon it and uttering one of those words will magically transform the box to a longboat, galleon, or back to a box." Bill all but grimaces at the idea of sailing the open ocean and someone uttering, "Wind," the word of power reducing the large ship to a plain wooden box, at a most inconvenient time. Obsequious bows are made as the group exits the tower, glad to be alive after another unsettling visit to the Master of Shelbol.
Freed of the yoke of the murder in Wayward and newly dubbed Heroes of Hilvada, they forge ahead to seek new riches and fame in the nearby Derimore mountains. A few members glance back as the tower stretches behind them. Was helping the mysterious and impenetrable Drexx a hero's test or have they just made a deal with the devil?
Aro-mon
Race: Elf
Class: Ranger
Raised by his elven half-brother, Sulios, Aro-mon mastered the forest lands around their home at a very young age. Growing up not knowing their parents tightened the bond between the brothers. From his teenage years on, Aro-mon lived off the land with Sulios, becoming an expert in archery, tracking, and sword-play. Inseparable, the brothers rarely left Copper Forest. While traveling to Wayward to trade furs for iron, Sulios was brutally murdered by a raiding clan of orcs. Aro-mon barely managed to survive. He now bears a hideous scar stretching from his waist to his neck and a determination to slaughter any orc he sees.