An Evening Messenger

Tak Tak Tak

Piergeiorn awoke with a start. His palatial bedroom was cold with lively shadows in every corner; the fire in the hearth had died down to embers and needed to be remade. He looked around his dark quarters, all was familiar and undisturbed. He sat up and donned his evening robe to ward off the cold as he got to his feet remembering his dream before it escaped him.

Flying unfamiliar colors of white and bronze three ships named the Shining Sword, Golden Paladin, and Bronze Protector emerged from the mists of sleep; each toiled and smashed through the breakers as they bore a path through the Trackless Sea. Impossible grey waves hammered the hulls of each vessel while men raced to keep vital gear and rigging from being lost or by chance damaging the ship.

The night sky was clear and full of stars under which deafening surf accompanied by salty air overwhelmed the senses. Cutting through the din of the ocean a malevolent voice full of authority and the weight of magic commanded the sailors. The deep powerful voice was in the parlance of dragon kind and it swore untold pain and misery if the ships were not corrected in due coarse. It seemed an impossibility.

In his dream Piergeiron was one of these sailors desperately trying to appease the speaker before it turned its angry eyes upon his desperate form. Instinctively he reached for his gun and…

Tak Tak Tak

The sound once again roused him from his inner thoughts and he looked toward the origin of the sound. It was coming from the window.

Lighting a fine and ornate lantern, a gift from the church of Lathander, Piergerion sauntered to the window; a large glass-steel paladin-style windowpane overlooking the Castle Ward and found a disheveled single raven bearing a message.

Cold air rushed in and disturbed the once tranquil bedroom scattering papers and waking his guard dog Ramses who barked in protest. Piergerion retrieved the small message and read its words with growing alarm.  

Knock Knock Knock

“Sai Piergerion?” Baerom Thunderstaff dutifully appeared inquiring at the unusual activity at this late hour.

“A message from the Samular Seven my friend.” The Paladinson said with remorse, “a fleet from Luskan has been spotted heading south—our worst fears have come to pass.”