You slogged it from Fort Mudlark northwards toward the stone tower you sought, but the Captain, grumbling and cursing at the swamp, slowed you down. Around midday you met the enigmatic wandering Giranois named Verker, who stayed and talked a while longer than usual. He pawed and slobbered at the Captain, awkwardly investigating him while complaining about cages and headaches and Old Gods shouting at him.
He babbled phrases like “Bring fire to the swamp” and “Bring up the dark” or “Death of the dead” and “Eat the dead”, and the Captain got him talking about the Old Gods in his head– the three ones you'd heard of: Prince Loidar the Skinless Prince, Deep Mother of the Dripping Pool, and Tanosh (still not sure who he is!). Verker got worked up enough that he asked the Captain to “break the cage”, pointing at the top of his head, so Ahappi obliged, using the blessed tip of his spear, which released a gout of blood, then darkness, then fire; then Verker relaxed and faintly grinned, before suddenly standing up and running away. Odd even for a Giranois, that one… But you began to get some new understanding of how the Old Gods, Giranois, and underlying essences related.
You had little trouble finding the tower. It was over 20m tall and about 6m wide, with a big main door and plenty of narrow windows; made of grey stone in an archaic but recognizable 2nd Age Seshnelan style. It was on a barren rocky island surrounded by a 100m diameter ring of glutinous grey-brown mud, which was dead of life and strewn with bone fragments, as Ahappi soon saw on close inspection. Ahappi walked into the mud and got stuck; Boamund came up and pulled him free, then armoured knights appeared in the windows with crossbows aimed at them, and after a terse conversation the two adventurers were sent away, unwelcome. They rejoined the party after some muddy trouble, and you decided to camp nearby for the night while devising a plan.
Nothing haunted you in the night, except for the Baronet plagued by hissing outbursts in whatever dreams vexed him. Maybe something weird was afoot here in the swamp, but you did not see it if it was there. You decided to approach the tower after dawn and come forward officially in the name of the Baron, which you hadn't done so explicitly before. The Baronet and Boamund presented themselves from the edge of the mudflats, and after a short chat they got the somewhat surprising result of an invitation to have lunch with the tower's master. Miguel spotted a grey old man in the window of one tower; unarmoured like the knights were. He may have seen him later in armour but wasn't sure.
A magic spell flew the two nobles to the tower door, and three very well-equipped, veteran knights escorted them inside and took their weapons for safe-keeping near the door. The knights were led by Sir Balaur the Iron-Skinned, who spoke simply but mostly straightforward; the other knights were not seen to speak at all. You then went upstairs, noting the nice furnishings (quite abundant and good for people here less than 3 weeks), and lounging in a room while the knights posed and strutted in front of you, waiting for the master to come.
The Majestic Vran, Conjurer of Truths, literally glided down the staircase from the tower level above you. He had an exotic but Seshnegi style: thick fur coat bedecked with iron runes (mostly normal ones but featuring Death and Life/Fertility ones), pale skin, long black fingernails (painted?), black hair on the sides and bald on top of his head, and bright red lips, surely painted in some bizarre foreign fashion. His black beard corkscrewed forward from his chin and he was tall and thin. He spoke briefly with you in his country's thick accent, and you learned a few things despite his tendency to respond to questions with his own questions:
-They come from Castle Rhis in the Castle Coast; NW old Seshnela, now isolated, but known to deal with nearby dwarves (hence all the incredible iron gear you saw!). -They flew all the way here. They are skilled and powerful; perhaps frighteningly so! And confident. -They will not discuss why they are here except that Vran raised the tower from the ground himself and intends to occupy it and conduct wizardly activities. -They have “done their homework” and noted documents in Seshnela/Pithdaros that establish that Baron Ron's lands do not extend this far north; you were not clear on this yoursevles. Hence they claim settler's rights. -They do not respect the Giranois, seeing them as heathen savages, but welcome you to intervene and bring peace with the natives if the tower's activities cause trouble. They seemed profoundly unconcerned with the Giranois. -You suspected they dealt in undeath/necromancy and other naughty things but they would not discuss their affiliations etc. -They did not answer questions from Ahappi about Vran being a vampire. He seemed to mainly be active at night and had other habits that fit old tales you'd heard about vampires (but note: none of you has ever seen a real Gloranthan vampire or truly knows their ways! Still, they are infamous). -Miguel spotted one knight, later during lunch when the rest of the group was invited to join you in the dining room 1 floor above, casting magics that at least influenced, maybe even conjured, the feast that you enjoyed there. The foods were both foreign and local, but surprisingly well-presented (if bland at times). There was speculation whether that knight was the real wizard in charge, or something… -The knights are no slouches; Sir Balaur surely >100% skill and the others not far behind him; plus enchanted iron and magic spells all over them. These Castle Coast visitors mean business, and tough business at that. -They do not see fit to negotiate further about anything, but you parted on polite enough terms, with an almost casual parting offer from Vran that perhaps Baron Ron would like iron from the Castle Coast dwarves if that soothed his concerns about disruptions to Giraine's peace. -That's most of it; did I forget anything?
You left after dining and conversation winded down, retrieving your weapons and (flown together across the mudflat again) hurrying for Fort Mudlark before night would fall.
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