AA's Kingmaker Part I: The Stolen Lands

[ApatheticAbacus]

Tireas

"Yeah," Oleg says, "they're a local beast. Biggest predator around here, wingless dragons, hide in the forest and ambush." The stolid man shrugs, a common gesture, it seems. "Never seen a live one. Supposed to be as big as a man, sometimes bigger. Figured a head to mount in the Post would scare away troublemakers and animals. Don't want to tangle with one. And it makes for good conversation for the hunters."

Before Svetlana leaves, she replies to Tireas' question about the letter. "There's no name on it, but it's nice, fancy paper." Indeed, the only name upon the letter is "Tireas Slate," written in black ink with a slight flourish to the writing. It has been carefully sealed with wax, though no mark has been pressed into it.

Estanos and Zinovia

"In my vision, the bear was ferocious and dark, corrupted. It guarded the way to the temple, and I fear that it will be a threat to you. I suspect that it must die."

Jhod looks confused and perturbed by Zinovia's comment, as if trying to make sense of it. He glances briefly at Estanos. "No, despite the bear's corruption, young lady, I believe that the temple is not lost to Erastil. I will re-consecrate it after you have found it, and, in time, I hope that it will flourish."

He hesitates, looking back at Zinovia. "And... young lady, if you wish it, I can try to heal what ails you..."

Estanos

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You open the letter's envelope. Inside is a letter, written on fine papyrus. The hand that has inscribed it is fine and flowing, and the language is Kelesh-ite.

I greet the new day with you, Estanos ibn Rafiq mar Nasra. May our Goddess watch over you and guide you always.

I write you this letter from the golden halls of the Grand Temple at Persipoli. I have lived here for my entire life, and yet its spires and statues and mosaics leave me in awe. It is truly a wondrous place.

Your letters have found me well and content, but I cannot be so for long. Even with the beauty of the city and the peace I find in my prayers, I cannot but feel your pull. Your work calls to me; it has made me question myself and my calling. To walk in contemplation in a temple, to learn the arts of the sword as mediation. These were my joys, but I startle myself from that sleep to find that you do true and good works in the world, where our light is needed most. I am told by Arch-Canoness Shazzar that I cannot leave. Sarenrae herself granted you your sign and summoned you to your station, while I have only my conscience and my love summoning me to you. I cannot deny those any longer.

This is the last letter you will receive from Persipoli. It will take me many months, but I am coming.

May the sun's rays never fail to warm you.

Petra