The Timekeeper Knot bears an esteemed legacy, once utilized by the venerated imperial emissaries. It manifests as a tangible commitment, a sworn obligation to deliver results with all due haste. Woven amid the elegant silk lies a potent toxin, its potency subject to the mastery of skilled alchemists who can manipulate the poison's onset. The recipient of the package or message alone holds the key to the tailored antidote.
In the modern period, the knot persists only as a symbol, its deadly poison a relic of times past.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
After thoroughly searching the local environs for further signs of the monsters, the Guard Master and Laes listened to our report, and judged it to be safe. Well, relatively so, at least. Laes, informed of our encounter with the toads, appeared to be brooding as he swallowed the news. The leader of the caravan ordered us to stop for the evening near the area where we had first encountered the Sandgorgers. Khalam acerbically commented that if the desert-dwelling creatures were this close to the edge of the Wastes, then something might have pushed them out from their usual territory. A worrying thought.
Larynda, however, proved unrelenting in her curiosity about my encounter with these new creatures, bombarding me with a litany of questions, demanding that I recount each detail time and again, as Kidu observed with a contemplative nod.
She also asserted that her newfound magic would prove invaluable in dealing with this threat. Silently, I had weighed her offer, my gaze drawn to her new pet - a Whispermews that quivered in fear at my presence, seeking refuge in the folds of Larynda's attire. In the end, the girl extracted a promise from me that she would be allowed to accompany us on our next outing.
Despite the potential merit of her newfound abilities, I harbored doubts regarding her untested skills. Still, real combat was one of the fastest teachers, and the potential experience gain might foster her growth.
The girl, in my estimation at least, had demonstrated a startling resilience of mind. After all, it was an uncommon occurrence when a child could display scant remorse after taking the lives of men. Perhaps her prior existence on the streets had tempered her resolve, or it might simply be the norm within this harsh realm, for even the young to lead a brutal existence. The Grieving Lands, it seemed, held a penchant for culling the useless and the weak. To her credit, I mused.
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Elwin, too, seemed unusually eager. I had taken him for a bit of a coward, which made his newfound enthusiasm all the more puzzling. Perhaps he was looking forward to working out some kinks. Perhaps people really do change. As for Cordelia, she just smiled subserviently, promising to do whatever I commanded, as it was ’s will.
Despite her meek and humble attitude, I always made a point of not holding the woman’s gaze for too long, for her eyes would grip my attention tightly. Compelling in their intensity, their depths were like a lesser version of herself. The attitude she wore felt like a facade, for her voice held hints of one being used to command, and her expression seemed to always be hiding something far more violent and zealously fierce.
In addition to this, she would hang upon my every word, as if it were gospel. Often, I would catch her repeating something I said or commented upon in passing, as if dedicating it to memory. I found the whole thing a little worrying, yet at the same time flattering. It is not often that one is treated like divinity made flesh.
Instead of the usual group of guards, I thought it best to assemble my own group to range ahead of the caravan to exterminate the rest of the giant frogs. Not only would this boost my esteem further in the eyes of the Ravens, but would, no doubt, help me to advance to even greater heights, as I gained more experience alongside my companions.
I found Laes during the evening meal to broach the idea to him, glad that Khalam, his Guard Master was not around. No doubt that stubborn old goat would find any sort of reason to try to deny me.
“Good evening to you, Master Harevor,” I began respectfully, with a small inclination of my head.
“Master Gilgamesh, to what do I owe this visit? The list of your epic feats grows by the day,” returned Laes, smiling feebly.
“Pray, do tell what they are saying about me now? I was trying to keep a fairly low profile,” I laughed weakly.
“Legends have a habit of growing even when unwatered. My guard tells me that you and you alone overpowered an adult bull Sandgorger by wrestling it down and beating it with your fists. Still others—I think it's that bumbling pair— say that despite wearing a mountain of steel, you move like a Zlesh viper on the sands. Had I not witnessed the miracles that you so easily dispense, I might have taken these for the typically drunken ramblings of bored men,” the man answered pointedly before he drew a deep breath. “But, in truth, I do not believe you are here to be regaled by tales of your exploits.”