[Abe Sargent]

Lord Rimoah removes a sphere of crystal from a pocket of his robe and holds it up to the lantern light. It is filled with a swirling grey mist. Softly he murmurs the words of an ancient spell and the mist clears to reveal the anxious face of your friend—Guildmaster Banedon. Rimoah speaks briefly to Banedon’s image, requesting that he come to the Monastery at once.

I will be with you within the hour, says the voice of Banedon, a whisper in your mind.

Your friend is in Toran, sixty miles to the north, yet he holds true to his word. In less than an hour he arrives at the Monastery aboard Skyrider—his sleek flying ship. Two excited young Kai Aspirants bring word of his arrival to the vault and you respond by making your way swiftly to the surface. Banedon’s Skyrider is hovering above the training park, the hum of its magical engine amplified by the surrounding walls and battlements. It is dusk on this wintry evening and a shower of feathery snow is illuminated by the craft’s lanterns. A rope ladder hangs from the bow rail to the frost-hardened earth.

‘Go aboard, Grand Master,’ urges Rimoah. ‘Banedon will advise you and provide you with what you’ll be needing. I shall stay here and pray for your safe return.’

You bid a hasty farewell to your mentor before climbing the dangling rope ladder with the legendary speed and grace that sets you apart from lesser warriors. Banedon is waiting as you haul yourself aboard. He greets you with a glad smile, yet his face cannot hide his deep concern for what may await you in Ixia. You wave a final farewell to Lord Rimoah; then you retreat to the warmth of Banedon’s cabin as the Skyrider glides over the Monastery’s southern wall and ascends into the leaden sky.

Your friend Banedon has already set a course for Vadera, the principal city of Lencia, a destination which is more than a full day’s flight west of Sommerlund. Were this not the first stage of a longer voyage to Ixia you would gladly welcome the chance to visit Vadera, for you have many friends there in the court of King Sarnac of Lencia.

During the flight, Banedon details the plans which have been made on your behalf. King Sarnac himself has promised his help; he will provide you with a boat and a pilot to sail you from Vadera to Azgad Island, a desolate Lencian outpost in the Tozaz Sea. On your arrival there you will be transferred to a Lencian ice-boat, a craft specially built to withstand the power of the treacherous pack-ice which clings to the Ixian shoreline at this time of the year.

‘The ice-boat will land you on the coast of Ixia, Lone Wolf,’ says Banedon, ‘and then it will wait at anchor for you to return upon the completion of your mission.’

‘How long will the ice-boat wait for me?’ you ask, apprehensively.

‘If you do not return within seven days, the pilot has orders to set sail for Vadera without you. The Tozaz in winter is a cruel and terrible sea—no ordinary man could hope to survive there for much longer than a week, no matter how strong his ship or plentiful his supplies. Which reminds me—if you are to survive your visit to Deathlord Ixiataaga’s frigid realm, you will be needing some special protection.’

(Yes, I have the Platinum Amulet)

Banedon reaches for a small wooden box which lies half-buried on a shelf, amongst a clutter of scrolls and charts. As he does so, he is momentarily distracted by the Platinum Amulet which you wear on a cord around your neck. You notice the suddenly inquisitive look in his eye.

‘How did you come by that?’ he asks, as he stares fixedly at the amulet.

‘It was given to me by Gwynian—the Sage of Varetta. I’m sure its powers kept me safe from the perils of the Maakengorge. Tell me, my friend, have you heard of this sage?’

‘Oh yes,’ replies Banedon, thoughtfully, ‘I know Gwynian. If the amulet you wear was given to you by him then, perhaps, you do not need the special protection I had in mind after all.’

Banedon takes the small wooden box and hands it to you. Upon opening it you discover it contains a platinum amulet, almost identical to the one you are already wearing.

‘I see what you mean,’ you say, as you close the lid and return the box to Banedon.

Banedon tosses the box back onto the cluttered shelf and continues with his briefing. Having satisfied himself that you have adequate protection, he turns his attention to your weapons.

‘It concerns me greatly that so little is known of Xaagon—the Deathlord’s city. There is no way of knowing what unholy breed of creature awaits you there. It seems that you can be confident of only one thing, Lone Wolf: whoever or whatever inhabits that dreadful place will surely be hostile to your presence. If you are to defeat the Deathlord of Ixia and his minions, you will need a weapon of exceptional power—a weapon capable of destroying that which is already dead.’

(Yes, I have the Sommerswerd)

‘You need have no fear, Banedon,’ you reply, unsheathing the sun-sword, ‘for you know that I possess such a weapon—the Sommerswerd.’

Banedon stares at the shimmering golden blade and calmly nods his head. ‘Yes, Grand Master. Your divine sword is ideally crafted for the task, but you must use it with discretion. Unsheathed, the Sommerswerd radiates a powerful aura of goodness—in the darkness of Ixia, such power would be like a blazing beacon. It could readily alert the Deathlord to your presence.’

(Yes, I have the Korlinium Scabbard)

You show Banedon your Korlinium Scabbard and tell him how you came by it. The seemingly plain belt and scabbard were given to you several years ago by Lord Rimoah, for a similar purpose—to conceal the power of the Sommerswerd from the Darklords of Helgedad.


‘I trust it will serve you just as well in Ixia,’ says Banedon, nodding his approval.