|
Stats
|
Level
|
62
|
Strength
|
175
|
Endurance
|
200
|
Coordination
|
175
|
Quickness
|
165
|
Focus
|
200
|
Self
|
210
|
Health
|
200
|
Stamina
|
350
|
Mana
|
360
|
|
Lore & Dialog
Edit
The dead man turns and looks down the rotted remains of his nose at you. A cool, aristocratic presence invades your mind, and seems to speak in Roulean. "You are foolish to come here, outlander. This is the castle called Chalicmere, fortress of the Latzimestal faction..."
"Ah, but such subtleties are beyond you. To your barbarian eye, we are merely corpses and bones, all alike and monstrous. Yet it is not so, and these rotting forms you revile shaped the destinies of men and kingdoms far beyond your ken.
"Obstruct me not, whelp. I have urgent traffic with the Lords of the Latzimestal... unless you will give me a note worth 10,000 pyreal. Then I shall grant you all the adventure you desire, if you be mighty enough to use my passage. Yet I shall not suffer barbarians in my home, and will prevent you from conjuring the gate yourself."
You give Faladha the Emissary Trade Note (10,000).
The voice in your mind sneers, "You are wise to offer me such a boon, lest I strike ye down like a cur in the street. I shall open the path to my home, the ancient port of Aerlinthe. You would be wise to tread lightly, lest you wake the ire of my island and my Lady."
"To Chalicmere I dispatched Faladha, from the house of Iharsi. His aristocratic Old Gelid manners will please the Steward, though I doubt not they will vex his servants. I do not trust Faladha, in truth. He is arrogant, and I believe he schemes to replace me as master of Aerlinthe. Yet, if Chalicmere can be convinced to war, that alone may be enough."[1]