Hex is a bit confused when she can't find Hildigrim but gives up looking for him after a while. He must be busy with his own tasks so perhaps she shouldn't bother him after all. After her failed search, Hex returns to Braden to ask if House Cardona would be willing to lend a boat or even a horse again.

Once at King's Pyre, her first thought is to look for Sirge's body. She's still wracked with guilt for leaving him alone to fend off the orcs. The least she can do is give him a proper burial. She doesn't spend too much time looking for him if she fails to find his body, though. She didn't want to stay in King's Pyre for longer than she needed.

Whatever the result of her search for Sirge, Hex heads towards the Gray Cloak's camp first with the goal of confirming if Krulek was dead and doing a more thorough search of their camp for any information pertaining to the Zhentarim specifically. She also wants to try to get into the locked chest in Krulek's tent. Since she doesn't have any thieves' tools of her own and Hildigrim didn't go with her, she'll have to improvise somehow. 

After a thorough search of the Gray Cloak's side, she heads over to Jeralla's camp to look for the book for Hildigrim as well as to confirm if Jeralla is dead or not. If she bumps into Hildigrim (and maybe Carl), she offers to help him with whatever he needs. If she failed to get into the chest in Krulek's tent, then she'll also try to convince Hildigrim to open it for her instead.

After King's Pyre, Hex returns to Phlan. With what little time is left for downtime, she spends helping out her faction. If they have nothing for her, then she just does whatever jobs she can find to fund her lifestyle.

Hildigrim would not be opposed to Carl joining him. As I said, he's curious about the dwarf's magic book. I imagine that they'll bump into Hex pretty quickly, so the three of them can work together as long as it's amenable. She would see their boat, after all.

As I said, Hildigrim would like to get a bead on the Cult, so if the DM is amenable, he'll spend the rest of the tenday tracking them and perhaps watching them. Or at least trying. If one or two of the others want to join, that's fine — if not, he'll go alone.

Since Carl is with Hildigrim, Hex will return to Phlan when they start tracking the Cult. 

Quote from FairIthilien >>

 His gaze moves across the table, resting briefly on each face. Then he lifts the mug, takes a measured sip, and sets it down again.

The paladin rises almost immediately after setting the mug down. He knows well enough how to read the temperature in a room—and even better when he's not expected to be in it. With a slight nod to the other diners, he says, "Tyr be with you all," and turns to head back toward his temple. Some rest, some thinking, and some training will do him good.

As he begins walking, Carthuzad's voice reaches him.

Quote from Twombley >>

“... I’ll want to talk more with you, Mister.  I don’t understand all these seasons and so forth that you’re goin’ through, but I’ve a mind that I don’t like winter at all, no sir.”  

Auriel halts and regards the dwarf through blue eyes rimed in silver. "Seasons. That is the nature of Eladrin. You don't get one without the others."

For a moment, it seems he'll turn back and continue his exit—but there's a slight hesitation. Without realizing it, something Carl has said has stirred him. It was true. One doesn't get one season without the others. And yet, he's been fighting Winter ever since...

He blinks. Yes, he definitely needs time to think.

There's the faintest flicker of a smile. By the time Auriel meets Carlthuzad's gaze again, it's already gone. But he adds, "I'll be ready for explaining. In due time."

Auriel will be on his own for this tenday. Mostly. On the last day, he'll seek out Carlthuzad. Winter is still there—quiet and solemn as the first day, if perhaps a little less cold.

If Carlthuzad is willing to listen, Auriel will share a story. It's not a beautiful story. But it is his. His family's. And for once, he's ready to speak it.

The camps at King's Pyre lie in ruins when your vessel(s) finally arrive at the cove. It is a sunny day, but the weather is betrayed by the sight that fills your eyes when you climb the steps up into the cave that yawns near the camp of the Gray Patriots. The stench of rot fills the air, replacing the fog. All around you lies the evidence of the combat that erupted here; this was no mere battle, but a war that played out as you escaped the scene with your rescued captives. Not far from the cave's entrance, the bodies of Ruse and Little Erik lay near one another, a ring of a dozen fallen orcs surrounding them. The Gray Patriots appear to have been decimated or eradicated entirely, with an occasional orc joining the scene of fallen gray cloaks.

Hex is shocked when she enters Krulek's tent again, opening his chest to find only a meager sword lying inside of it, and shocked again when the sword animates, flying out of the chest and nearly taking her head off. The sword is simple enough to destroy, but the experience is as unnerving as the situation outside of the tent.

At the statue's lap, you find a dead elven archer in a gray cloak, and a pile of a half dozen dead orcs, many half burned, who had died trying to scrabble up the arms of the statue to reach him, eventually succeeding. Past that, on the other side of the cliffs, Jeralla's camp lies in equal ruins. Her wagon is in tatters, but her kobolds' tents still flutter in the wind. As in the Gray Patriots' camp, orcs lay scattered and dead alongside many of the kobolds, and the cadaver of one hulking owlbear. Near Jeralla's wagon, the dragonborn sorceress's lifeless red scales seem almost bright and vibrant against the scorched landscape around her, the bodies of many orcs blackened husks surrounding her.

Hildigrim, searching through the remnants of her wagon and finds an emptied treasure chest. Though it appears to be looted after the battle, previous looters ignored the large book bound in dragon skin laying beneath wooden planks nearby. On the way back to Phlan, with Jeralla's body in tow, Hildigrim's eyes devour the words on its pages, seeking its secrets. The saga is composed in painful poetic verse, describing Jeralla as Tiamat's earthly daughter, destined to rule over all of Faerûn. It is a deeply biased chronicling of the sorceress's apparent ascent as "The Chosen of Tiamat" and Hildigrim is disappointed to discover, despite its beautiful bindings, that it is apparently nothing more than that.

No sign of Sahnd Krulek can be found at King's Pyre, nor was the body of Sirge Wintermelt seen or recovered.

Back in Phlan, Braden Yil is happy to provide House Cadorna's seventy five gold piece bounty for proof of Jeralla's death. Over the following days, the first few merchant caravans leave Phlan and cautiously journey along the Iron Route. Word of the caravans' arrival is greeted with celebration across the town. As you wander the streets of town, taking care of things while recovering from your most recent adventure, you are feted as heroes more than once. It would seem that House Cadorna spread word rather quickly of who the townspeople should thank, even if the thanks may seem hollow to your ears.

Hildigrim spends several days deep in research, poring over documents in Mantor's Library and asking questions in taverns. History shows little - mentions of the Cult go back more than a hundred years, a group obsessed with the resurrection of dragons into something called a 'dracolich'. He finds several references to their activities in the distant past, and by all metrics, their leader Sammaster was destroyed over a hundred years back, the Cult fading with him. He finds even less asking around town - many have not heard of the Cult at all, and those who have know them as little more than remnants of the histories that Hildigrim has already read.

"The city is safe again," Braden said when handing you the bounty, meant to reassure you - but the truth of it all sits like a gnawing hunger in your guts. Chaab and Olisara Lightsong echo the sentiment that has been rattling around in your heads for quite some time. The Cult of the Dragon seems to be in every shadow, lurking around every corner. Though they both assure Hex and Hildigrim respectively that they are pulling resources to help with the investigation, the eyes and ears of the party are still the best resources that either faction has.

OOC: Splitting the 75 gp bounty evenly, each character has received 18 gp. There are 3 gp left over to be claimed. Removed 4 sp and 5 cp from Hildigrim's inventory and added 9 arrows (gonna try to get back to doing a better job of tracking those in combat on my end as well). I've also removed living expenses for downtime spent not working or earning money.

The adventure continues in Tyranny in Phlan...

(ooc: I'm happy with the 3 remaining gold pieces going to the ones that made the effort to return to King's Pyre.)

The present tenday passes with relative quiet for Auriel, who—as mentioned—spends most of it apart from the group. Much of his time is devoted to matters involving his temple, but it's also a period of introspection for the Winter Eladrin. He is slowly learning to cope with a season that, though not unfamiliar to him, still doesn't feel natural. Even if it's part of his race's nature, understanding the seasons—and how they don't always behave the same way—is something Auriel has to figure out on his own. 

He doesn't remember it at first, but after a few days in the temple, a name returns to him: Rathene. The half-orc had seemed genuinely interested in visiting Tyr's temple. Curious, Auriel asks about her, and he learns that she did come sometime before the party returned from King's Pyre. But she hasn't been seen there since. The news gnaws at him. He clearly remembers how Hex had spoken to her just after he did... and he begins to wonder. It takes a few days for the paladin to piece together the truth—who Hex reports to, and what that might mean for Rathene. He also begins to understand a little more about the Zhentarim. This is information he decides to keep to himself.

On the last day, as promised, Auriel seeks out Carlthuzad. (ooc: I'm going to assume Carl is willing to listen—otherwise, this is going to get *very awkward* for Auriel, LOL!) And despite the Winter haze still clinging to him, Auriel speaks.

He begins with Mithrendain, the Autumn City.

He tells Carl about the Fen'hareth ancestral home—not among the grandest of estates in the Feywild, but one full of life and color and flowers. He remembers his mother, Míriel, singing almost every morning, and how his younger sister, Nerys, would follow suit. He and his father, Galdor, would always listen, even if they didn't join in. They were simply happy.

Auriel explains that he's much older than Nerys. That their parents didn't expect her, but brought them all joy nonetheless. Before she was born, Auriel'd been just another young noble Eladrin—growing, learning, having fun, preparing to take up his father's mantle. Their house wasn't important by courtly standards, nowhere near the standing of the Summer Court, but that had never mattered. They had each other.

Nerys changed everything. Through her, Auriel learned what it meant to care deeply for someone. What it meant to protect. To be there for her.

Auriel admits to occasionally challenging his father, often in petty ways. His tattoos were part of that—a little act of rebellion. "They were also the result of one of those Satyr parties," he says, with a faint smile. "You've never really been to a party until you've been to a Satyr party." The tattoos were a way to irritate his father, but her mother loved them, and Nerys did too. The little one used to trace the intricate lines with her fingers, fascinated. And in time, his father learned to accept them as well.

But as Auriel grew older and it became clear he would inherit his father's position, the tone of his life shifted. He became more serious. Nerys, meanwhile, grew into a beautiful, talented young woman—a gifted healer, with no trace of malice in her. Their parents would often call her the fairest of them all, and they weren't that mistaken.

Perhaps too fair. Too fair to remain in the shadows of a modest, if noble, home. Too fair not to catch the eye of someone higher-born—one too close to the Summer Court. Someone with power. Someone who wouldn't take no for an answer. Someone who didn't stop when asked, and wouldn't hesitate to hurt when denied.

Auriel pauses here for a long time. Long enough that Carlthuzad might think he won't continue. But eventually, he does.

The Eladrin tells the Dwarf how he was the one to find Nerys. How she had been hurt—badly. How he held her, unresponsive. Not dead... but not entirely alive, either. She was healed. But what good is a healed body when the spirit has been broken? 

That was the first time Auriel shifted away from his natural Autumn. There was no deliberation. No thought. Just rage. Pain. Winter. He didn't think. He didn't weigh the consequences. He simply returned what had been done—tenfold. The one who hurt Nerys lived. "Probably," he says. Someone must have healed him, as well. But Auriel hadn't cared.

And so, Auriel Fen'hareth was sentenced to execution. But the Fey Court knows how to wound best when they choose to. And to the one who harmed a scion of an even older, nobler bloodline, that punishment was not enough. Erasing a whole noble house, though? A thousands-year-old lineage, wiped from every record? Now, that was a fitting punishment. The Fen'hareth name, gone—because someone dared to hurt a brighter name. Who cared who had drawn the first blood?

Auriel learned that day that the word noble doesn't mean anything. That bloodlines don't mean anything. That ancestral homes don't mean anything—not when what truly matters is gone.

But... he did get the chance to see Nerys one more time. He saw her healed. Saw her smile again. He may never return to the Quivering Forest. May never walk Mithrendain again. May never hear his mother's songs in their garden, or train at his father's side. But he knows his family is alive and safe in Greenhall.

And now, he knows he doesn't need to fear Winter anymore. Because he is in Winter. And this Winter is not the same as that first one.

Winter can be cold. Quiet. Still.

It can also be a raging storm.

But even the fiercest blizzards fade into clear, beautiful snowy mornings. Eventually...