Post-Gate Reflections

The group is almost back to E’armos from the First Gate. The group has traveled through the Howling Wastes, but has made it out of them. Alexis is walking beside Ca’armine.

“You know,” Alexis said, eyes on the horizon, “I keep thinking about the Gate. About what we walked away from.” He hooked a thumb toward the north-west without looking. “They knew Bandesingh’s name there. They knew his allies. We tracked the weapons being made to there. That wasn’t nothing; we had a trail, and we left it cooling.”

He glanced sideways. “You’ve said Raiden wanted you to turn back. Maybe. Or maybe… it wasn’t about turning at all. Maybe it was about where to put our eyes. We were looking one way, but the truth was sitting right there in front of us. Or maybe going to the First Gate wasn’t the most direct way to get to Bandesingh, but perhaps it could have been the quickest way, that Raiden knew-if asked, to disrupt his working, or to topple the Hand.” Alexis shrugs at his thought that will never be known and was never tested.

“And Drennos. You said he taunted you. Maybe he did. But it sticks with me—reminds me of that beggar in Sutheron. ‘You may have killed the snake, but the wolf still hunts, the spider weaves, the king behind the throne is coming.’” Alexis pauses to gather his thoughts. “Whatever that poor beggar was trying to say, Rask certainly took it as some sort of curse or threat. But sometimes messages come in ugly wrappers. Perhaps Raiden was working through Drennos.”

Alexis kicks a stone forward, watched it skitter. “And those visions—the ruins of Raiden’s long-gone armies? They don’t have to be warnings. That could have been a clue or an omen of both weal and woe. When his armies fell, they almost certainly left something behind. Power. Tools. Maybe even a key to tearing the Hand apart or to stop Bandy’s evil master plan.”

“So maybe the Gate was a pit.” Alexis nods his head towards Ethelred, to emphasize ‘pit.’ “Fine. And we climbed out. And we carried things with us when we did. Maybe doom wasn’t the only story written for us there.”

Alexis keeps walking beside Ca’armine. Letting the words hang between them as the group moves closer and closer to E’armos.

The Mystery of the Crown and Hammer

Over some breakfast since leaving the 1st Gate, Alexis is thinking aloud

“Without Drennos I can go back to my musings.” after a little pause Alexis continues.
“I’m still thinking about the Hammer and Crown, and what the Collegium is supposed to be kept from knowing. What about the history or the nature of those artifacts is supposed to stay hidden? Since nobody but villains talks to non-humans” Alexis says with sarcasm “it seems reasonable that the knowledge that the Collegium doesn’t have was acquired from non-humans… perhaps from some long-lived creature or from some lost library.”

“Perhaps the Crown and Hammer could be items that Dwarves would rally behind, but it seems like they would have to be held by a Dwarf, otherwise they wouldn’t be objects to trade, but objects to use.”

“The simple explanation, the uneducated explanation, is that these items are connected and together they form a symbol of royalty. Similar to a crown and scepter.”

“Less intuitive is that they are somehow items used by some ‘rightful chosen of the Maker’, and the hammer is the real item. It forges something. But this gets into wild speculation.”

“What would be a threat to our enemies, or a great boon to them, from those items, that the Collegium wouldn’t be aware of?” Alexis thinks on this while they all eat together.

Raiden Doesn’t Like This Place

My friends– as we approach the heavy fortifications of the West Gate, I feel compelled at last to tell you. Throughout this journey I have been tortured by visions, including glimpses of the silent and stern visage of Raiden. I have felt that our steps were taking us away from, not closer to, the goal for which I asked my Lord’s guidance– the defeat of the Dark Hand.

Dennos has taunted me. He identified me as a priest of Raiden, from the outset, and as we traveled further and further into the west. I ignored him while he was challenging my God. But as we walked further west– and my visions grew more intense– I realized his taunts and my visions echoed each other. Raiden beseeching me to turn back. Reminders of the desolation visited upon his armies, long in the past.

Now that we stand in sight of the fortress, I need you all to hear and believe me, for I know as well as my own name– we have deceived no one. Drennos of the Dark Hand leads us gleefully into a trap. This fortress is so well defended, despite being in the wild lands, we have to ask ourselves, why? Maybe this is where Bandesingh and the Dark Hand are making weapons and training armies.

But maybe this is a prison, and we are about to be locked inside.