Chapter Seven: The Stalemate At Loton's Cove

When you left the Hierophant's office, he told Lendras (Gethro's assistant, filling his role in his absence) to compensate you "at the usual rate" for the information you provided him. Lendras gave you a small wooden box and told you that it contained a signet that would grant you reentry to the Hierophant's palace. But I don't think you ever actually opened the box!

Annganne hasn't really been asking about the political situation in Hazard, so she might not have much insight there. At any rate, the people she has talked to haven't been volunteering that they are angry at the Hierophant, or Hazard generally speaking, or whatever. The grief and shock is still fresh here. One topic that keeps coming up, however, is the question of where the dragon's lair is located, its age and size, and what ought to be done about it. Nobody here doubts that the soldiers were indeed killed by a large white dragon, and some claim to know or have spoken with mountain folk who witnessed the dragon in flight on the day of the attack.

Gethro's name never came up, but Annganne is aware that investigators from Hazard have been poking around Solyhill.

*Remembers the memory* "Ahh, time well spent!"
She takes it to the limit, figuring it's worth visiting one of the many alternate realities every so often.

While doing so, she asks about what weird things were on Vorch and offers that seeing as how the guards at the fort can't be convinced through conversation, she can now try to get them into the fort by exposing them to some adjacent realities.

Or as they call them...illusion.

It's a Ring Of Total Protection From Fire For You And All Your Friends

Domarc opens the box.

Inside he finds a brass signet ring bearing a seal that depicts a rooster skull and four four-pointed stars, and 25 newly-minted gold pieces in a paper sleeve.

These are symbols of Aitas, a god of death long venerated in Bload. While not a favorite among the layfolk, his temple and college are well-established in Hazard and are known to attract initiates who desire a theologically rigorous upbringing.

Party, are you ready to proceed to the next morning and head directly to the fort?

Yessir.

Ready

Three's a quorum, but if anyone wants to retcon in any minor questions/activities before heading to the fort, feel free.

The party enjoys an unexpectedly lively night in the Ram and Sedge, filling Annganne in on what they know of the Six-Pronged Crown under the shelter of a magical hut in their room. At one point, she races downstairs and returns with a bottle of grain spirits, pounding shot for (gnome-sized) shot with Zangua while the party regales her with tales from their adventure on the island of Vorch, like the strange rescue and subsequent death of their companion Vhezyen (did he really know Gavrel Gorham personally? They'll never know, now), Zangua's brief sojourn to the Elemental Plane of Water (he's still quite circumspect about what he actually experienced there), and their encounter with the pirates of the Mournful Mother.

The next morning, Annganne acts as though it is a given that she will be traveling alongside the rest of you for the forseeable future, and nobody seems to be of a mind to tell her otherwise.

There's only about half a dozen customers downstairs at the Ram and Sedge, mostly women -- the only males you see are children and one old man. You take a quick breakfast and head out down the road through the town to the base of the hill.

A wide dirt path snakes up the side of the hill until you reach the plateau and stand before the main gate of the Fortress of Solyhill. The wall encircling the compound is made of masonry and thick copperwood posts, with a stone gatehouse situated below a tall wooden watchtower. An archer stands atop the tower and two guards, both in their teen years, stand before the gatehouse with spears that look too long for them. Twenty feet from them, you are commanded to halt, and the archer trains his drawn bow on you.

Annganne uses her illusion!

"Halt!" one of the guards shouts in a reedy voice. "Who approaches?"

Solyhill is an old fort, built when the orc tribes of the Lesser Dulehans were more aggressive, and that age is showing in the fort's general state of benign neglect. The ditches have been filled in, the stonework is crumbling in parts, and the nine bronze bolts mounted above the main gate have tarnished to a deep green color.