Post by Skell on Jul 31, 2019 14:11:56 GMT
He woke up before the break of dawn, when the world was still dark and silent. From his window he could see were the Suldown Street ended and the High Road started. His thoughts far away, on a city dominated by trees, where every building was made with flowing curves.
It had been four years since Ilar first left Silverymoon. In the beginning it was easy to fulfill his duty. He could hear on the taverns and guild halls about the appearance of simple undead. Mindless, rotting shells capable of little more than killing. But time and maybe some of his efforts made such talk less and less common. Now he needs better sources of information and if song and tale are to be trusted there is none better than the Harpers.
They were the reason he stopped in Waterdeep but in the three days since his arrival Ilar didn’t find more than whispers. Anyone could tell Those Who Harp have eyes in every place, describe their emblem, talk about some of their achievements but no one seemed to have actual information.You don’t find them, he could remember his old master, Vinden, saying while telling histories about the Harpers. They find you. If they deem you worthy. If they believe you can live to fight for the good.
Hours later, when he left for the Market Hall, the words still echoed in his mind. With him were representatives from the House of Healing, all of them using the guild’s livery, a tunic or cloak of black, gray, and white bands, with a large white diamond bordered in gray with the long points vertical, on chest and back. They were sent to negotiate the price of supplies and Ilar to help them verify the quality of the purchase.
Took the better part of an hour to inspect everything. The food for the emergency hospital was fresh and the same could be said of the herbs. Some would be used as seasoning, Ilar knew, but most of them where common ingredients for potion brewing.
”No fault here.”He said approaching his guild colleagues.”Now, were should I start to ask for information?”
