Storm King's Thunder

Chand's Journal, day 65

Bribes, dreams, and stories

(written in Halruaan)

Due to fatigue, I had omitted a few details regarding our encounter with the bird-riders. I will correct this presently.

First – the bribe for Zephyros. Recall that I mentioned the bird-riders trying to bribe Zephyros to join ther cause. The gift they offered was a pouch. After the battle, Zephyros gifted this to us, citing that it was of no use to him. After some prompting, he explained that it was a pouch of pixie dust. Upon examination, I concluded that it was similar to our ferispak, which can be dusted on persons to bestow them with a random effect. There seemed to be approximately ten doses left in the pouch.

I was also informed that we had looted 31 gold pieces, 9 scimitars, 9 leather armor, and a bag emblazoned with a smiling face symbol. I was going to examine the bag but Xy had done the work instead. He said that it was just a plain bag.

We questioned Zephyros, who gave us little beyond what we already knew: The Ordning, power struggles among giants, and so on. He did mention a Harshnag, a giant supposedly friendly with the 'little people' (meaning us). He also mentioned the Royal Court but did not offer further explanation.

While my companions retired to tend to their battle fatigue and related ministrations, I engaged Zephyros in conversation. He was an odd sort to say the least, but I was keen to learn of the ways of the cloud giant. Perhaps he could tell me something that would give me deeper understanding of my powers.

What I ended up learning was a more tidbits about the royal family. Queen Neri's mysterious death was followed by the disanding of the Ordning and shortly after King Hekaton's disappearance. The royal couple had 3 daughrtes: Mirran, Nym, and Serissa, who allegedly did not get along.

Nothing else of import happened today. Tomorrow we will hopefully reach Goldenfields, and we can find Mirros and be done with this sad quest. 

I had that dream again, that night when the bird-riders came. Endless, ever-burning expanse of fire-cracked rocks. Acrid, choking stench of brimstone. A shadowy, rumbling horde in the far horizon. Most disturbingly, a sense of familiarity.

I will now go to sleep. I do not wish to have that dream again. Arkle shedarram.



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