For three days you are treated to the lavish hospitality of the Elder Magi and the freedom of the wondrous city of Elzian. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, having fully recovered from the rigours of your journey to Dessi, you meet with Lord Rimoah in the Tower of Truth to discuss the final stage of your quest—the voyage to the Isle of Lorn. He informs you that passage has been arranged for you aboard a Suhnese trading ship called The Azan which sails tomorrow at dawn. The ship’s master, Captain Jenkshi, has been paid generously to carry you to his home port of Suhn, and you can expect to be well treated by him and his crew. It will be a long voyage, some 2,500 miles in all, but not all of it will be spent at sea. The Azan will put in at several ports along the way, both to trade and to take on fresh supplies of food and water. Rimoah reminds you of the need for secrecy—nobody must know the real purpose of your journey. Jenkshi and his men have been told that you are simply a courier who is carrying official papers for the attention of Lord Zinair, the Dessian ambassador to Suhn. On arriving at Suhn you are to contact Lord Zinair who will arrange for your passage across the Sea of Dreams to the Isle of Lorn. Before you leave the Tower of Truth and return to your chambers, Lord Rimoah examines the satchel in which you carry the Moonstone. Its special korlinium lining meets with his approval.
‘Lone Wolf has prepared you well for your mission,’ he says, as he secures the buckle. ‘I’m sure I have no need to remind you to keep this bag closed at all times. You are about to venture through dangerous territory, and there are many who would give anything to possess the contents of this satchel. You would be wise to trust only yourself, Grand Master.’ (If you have not already done so, record the Moonstone on your Action Chart as a Special Item. You carry it slung over your shoulder in its leather satchel.)
Rimoah escorts you to your room and tells you that he will call for you at an hour before dawn to take you to the quay. As he bids you goodnight, a doleful bell rings out in some distant part of the city. Rimoah’s eyes fill with sadness.
‘What does the bell mean, my lord?’ you ask.
‘It signifies the passing of Lord Casis. He, too, is about to begin a journey. Alas, it will be his last. I must go now—I am being summoned to witness his departure.’
As he leaves, Rimoah pauses for a moment and then glances back over his shoulder. ‘You are welcome to accompany me if you wish, Grand Master. The passing of an Elder is a rare and special occasion. You may learn much from what you see.’
(I join him)
You hurry with Lord Rimoah through the corridors of the Tower of Truth towards the sound of the tolling bell, until at last you arrive at a chamber located below its vaulted presidium. Gathered here are the members of the High Council. They stand in a circle around the cloaked body of Lord Casis which lies upon a bed of shimmering crystals. A cocoon of light encases his frail form, its pale luminescence shedding an uncanny glow upon the faces of the surrounding elders. Rimoah joins them and, as you observe this eerie scene, you recall Lone Wolf’s teachings at the Kai Monastery.
The Elder Magi are all that remain of the race of beings from whom all goodly magic stems. They were sent to Magnamund almost 10,000 years ago by the Gods Kai and Ishir to defeat Agarash the Damned, Naar’s first champion, and they triumphed in their task. Yet, in a later age their numbers were decimated by a plague and the few thousands who survived this tragedy sought refuge here in Dessi. The Elder Magi have always aided Sommerlund and have been loyal and invaluable allies to the Kai. But now their ancient power is waning, and the few thousands who survived the Great Plague now number less than a hundred.
Suddenly the bell ceases to toll and you watch in awe as the fragile remains of Lord Casis gradually fade from sight. He has ended his time here upon Magnamund and has passed over into the Plane of Light, the ethereal domain of the Gods Kai and Ishir. Silently the remaining elders file out of the chamber. As Lord Rimoah passes, he beckons you to follow him.
‘You are the first Kai who has ever witnessed the ascension of an Elder,’ he says, as he takes you back to your room. ‘Alas, our power ebbs with each passing year, for this is the twilight of our existence here on Magnamund. Yet, we embrace our fate, for even as we weaken and fade so the power of the New Order Kai grows stronger. This is the dawning of your Age, Grand Master. You and your brothers shall carry forward the fight against Naar, and you shall be victorious.’
Upon reaching your room, Lord Rimoah bids you goodnight and reminds you that he shall call for you an hour before dawn. You retire to bed but remain awake for more than an hour as you contemplate the quest that lies ahead. You are apprehensive of the dangers you may encounter, but you are also greatly inspired by what you have witnessed this night and by Rimoah’s prophetic words of wisdom.
No sooner have you fallen asleep, it seems, than you are awoken by Rimoah’s knock on the door. You gather your Weapons and belongings and walk with him through a procession of torchlit corridors that lead to the entrance to the Tower. As you approach the main doors, Rimoah points to a chamber close by.
‘That is the Tower Armoury, Grand Master,’ he says. ‘You are welcome to inspect it and take whatever you wish before you embark upon your voyage.’
The walls of the armoury are lined with oaken racks containing many skilfully-crafted weapons. They are all of ancient design and many centuries old. Their gleaming blades have been kept in pristine condition, yet it strikes you that this chamber is more like a museum than an armoury. Clearly the Elder Magi have little need for conventional weapons.
Among the racks you note the following weapons that are of exceptional quality:
Spear
Short Sword
Mace
Warhammer
Bow
Broadsword
If you wish to take any of these Weapons, make the appropriate adjustment to your Action Chart. (The maximum number of normal Weapons that you can carry is two.)
(I take a Dessi Bow.)
ou leave the Tower of Truth and pass along a wide stone ramp that gently descends to the great canal that encircles the city of Elzian. Few of the city’s Vakeros natives are abroad at this early hour and the streets and avenues are empty and quiet. A warm mist wreathes the barges and ships that are moored along the canal bank and, in the pre-dawn twilight, these vessels take on a ghostly appearance.
By the time you find The Azan, the sun has broken through the mist and the city is beginning to stir. Captain Jenkshi and the crew of the Suhnese trader are busily preparing their ship to sail, yet they immediately stop their work to welcome you and Lord Rimoah aboard. Jenkshi is a lean, yellow-skinned man with wide almond eyes and a small blunt nose. His slick black hair is tied in a knot atop his head in the Suhnese style, a fashion that is also favoured by all his crewmen. He orders one of his men to show you to your cabin at the prow, but before you go you bid Lord Rimoah farewell and thank him for all that he and the Elder Magi have done to aid your quest.
By the time The Azan is ready to sail, the mist has vanished. Having inspected your cabin you return to the foredeck where you settle yourself in the sun and enjoy the ever-changing views of the lush farmlands and Vakeros settlements which border upon the canal. For 90 miles this waterway cuts a wide furrow through the southern jungle of Dessi. To the east the horizon is dominated by a solitary mountain, and you marvel at its snowy peak which is the steepest you have ever seen.
‘That’s Kas-kalahmout,’ says one of the friendly Suhnese crewmen. ‘In your language, I think it has the meaning: Chair of the Heavens.’
By midday you come to the estuary of the canal and The Azan heads out into the open waters of the Gulf of Tentarium. Captain Jenkshi joins you on deck and offers to share some of his food. While you eat you learn from him that the voyage will take little more than three weeks to complete, including visits to ports of call along the way. You ask him about the notorious Shadakine pirates who plague these waters and he answers you with a shrug of his muscular shoulders.
‘Relax and enjoy the journey as best you can, my friend,’ he says, jovially, as he finishes his food and wipes his mouth on his silken shirt sleeve. ‘You’re in safe hands. I and my crew have sailed these waters all our lives and we’ve yet to meet a buccaneer we can’t outwit or outrun. Breathe easy. You’ve nothing to fear from those mangy curs.’