“Impressive,” Hagren said as he tossed the bells up and down in his hand. Each silver ball – 20 in all – was attached to a leather cord about two feet long. “Then again, we don’t Test people we don’t believe in.”

“Thank you for the opportunity. I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you,” Emerson said. He was just 17 and a reed of a man.

The heroes travelled to Bagalon, throne of the Khaja and seat of power for all of Zhûrasca. Initially, they were worried they would be easily spotted but as they arrived, they saw crowds flocking into the city. tomorrow would be coronation day, the day each year when the Khaja is required by tradition to take a meal with the people as they celebrate his reign. as a particularly popular khaja, Lak A’haagal’s coronation day celebration would be one of the most popular. With the teeming crowds as camouflage, the heroes moved into the city.

This trip just gets better and better.

As we left the Valley of Bone, our party entered the desert waste that cradles the Crescent on each side; the main road was too dangerous for Blackheart and his liberators, I was convinced. Too quickly had rumor spread from Brea Halak, and I am upset to find that there are those who connect that Bellock and Gannon are the same man… at least, in body.

Belkin was taking his breakfast in the Inn with Festus, Scase and Ifram while they discussed Gannon’s letter. Not only had he found a tracker, but Festus informed Belkin that Gannon had been in touch with the local pyreneum. There, he had given the Magi information regarding Lokar, Belkin and himself (both reported dead) and shown them several enchanted artifacts (see spellcasting for why an Arch Magi would be none to happy about the appearance of enchanted arms and armor).

I will not survive this.

Only a few days have a I been released from prison, and already the sins of Blackheart have come down on me harder than I could imagine. We made our way to the village of Jhondaja, a trading town where we hoped to find a guide to take us to the Vally of Bone.

Belkin and I decided that in town we should split up; it would be safer for my companion if I were not with them, as Bellock surly had a sizable bounty on his head, and even with my hair cut and my beard trimmed, there are few that have seen Bellock in his rage that will forget the face.

My name is, or rather it was, Gannon ‘Turncloak,’ and I have decided to keep a journal of my experiences. I have never kept a log of the things I have done in life, to me there was never a need. Oblivion was always lurking nearby, and I could not see past my own fears; my own hatreds. Until 3 days ago, I was locked in a prison cell in the city of Brae Halak. I was sentenced to die for the crimes I had committed. The law, as it stands, was correct in my punishments, and I knew that death had finally found me. As the end of my life approached, I felt inside me a great emptiness; a hole where a man once lived. I was no longer a man, but a monster, dishonorable and dishonest; a raging storm let loose upon the world.

From: the Farzeen Furdowis al Brae Halak

To: Belkin Brinx & Co.

The GodsBane was burning.

Gannon had blood in his eyes, on his tunic and leggings, every inch of the man was soaked in gore; its crimson hue tured black as the flames that engulfed the ship danced across his face.

4th Tanser, 994AI Ta-hwa Valley, 70 miles northeast of Jhondaja

They said it never rains here, Magi Kezia thought to herself. Quite to the contrary, it had been raining for near a week straight now. When the battalion had pitched their tents, the land was cracked and sandy. Three days ago they had been forced to move camp up the valley wall to a rock overhang to keep it from sailing away with the mudslide.

The wood split clean in twain, splinters shooting off and landing on the ground nearby. The dirt was littered with sawdust as Gallow paced forward, collected the two pieces and threw them into the pile with the rest. He cleared his brow as the sound of someone shouting his name finally reached his ears.