In the minds of many, the High Forest threatened to swell in the imagination and become the very embodiment of the unknown. But there it stood, all too real, and churning out mysteries beyond invention. Though most gave it a wide berth-only a few roads skirted close enough even to see the edge of the trees-anyone living in or traveling through the southern end of the forest knew of the Star Mounts. They could be seen from many places in the North, and it was reckoned that they were almost as tall as the highest peaks of the Spine of the World. Shrouded in cloud and lore, they were perhaps the most tempting secret of the infinite mysteries that the High Forest kept so well.
These peaks occupied the thoughts of Llorkh's mayor.
From the westward balcony attached to his study in the Lord's Keep, he stared in their direction even though they were out of view. Perhaps, he mused, his destiny would be decided there.
"The Sanctuary," he muttered to himself.
"What?" asked Ardeth, stepping next to him. "What sanctuary is this?" She was still battered and bruised from her fight in the barbarian camp, but now, with a long rest and some time in Geildarr's private baths, she was recovering.
"Sanctuary," he repeated with a smile. "All of our hard work may be realized in that little word. Come." He led her down the hallway to his study, where the axe still rested on his desk amid stacks of books and papers. He snatched up a note containing the details from one of his divination spells.
"I had almost given up when this came to me in a spell. It'll be interesting to see what Kiev can extract from the chieftain, but perhaps capturing him was unnecessary." He held the parchment out to her and she read:
Blood flows from the heart of secrets, where shepherds tend to scales. The axe is the key that pulls back the false and reveals the old Sanctuary in Vision's long shadow. The brave shall find the forgotten source.
Geildarr couldn't stop beaming.
"What does it mean?" asked Ardeth.
"It's simple," he said, grasping a book and flipping to a faded sketch of the Star Mounts. Each peak was marked with human and elf names. On the far right was a mountain labeled Mount Vision.
"Here," Geildarr said, pointing his finger. "This Sanctuary lies somewhere in the vicinity of Mount Vision. More importantly, the Star Mounts are the source of the Heart-blood River." He quoted, " 'Blood flows from the heart of secrets.' Whatever it is we're looking for, it should be near here." He poked the diagram with his finger.
"But shepherds tending to scales," asked Ardeth. "What riddle is this?"
"Perhaps it's more literal than that," Geildarr said. "Tyrrell said that the Thunderbeasts worship a behemoth, a great lizard of legend. And what attacked you may be the same, or some godly incarnation of the same."
"I'm lucky to have escaped it," said Ardeth.
"Truly," Geildarr said. "It's a shame Valkin couldn't have as well."
"He came back to save me. I owe him my life."
"You've done me no favors by returning without him," Geildarr said. He kept his tone steady, making no obvious judgments, but Ardeth sensed the anger underneath.
"Would you be happier if I had died instead?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch only slightly, but enough to make Geildarr feel the intensity of her words. "I'm not Zhentarim, after all. Manshoon wouldn't need to know, or care, if I had died."
Who is master here, and who is the apprentice? Geildarr thought. But he kept his frustration in check.
"That's not what I meant," he said. "But this has made the situation all the more desperate for me." He rested his hand on the battle-axe. "You'll shortly be going on another mission, if you're well enough. And this time, I wouldn't be unhappy if your party returns a member light."
The tribe assembled at nightfall in the camp's center. All expected that Thluna would give them some impassioned speech, saying that challenges let their tribe excel, or bidding them to trust in the Thunderbeast's will. But perhaps Thluna knew that speech-making was for another time, for he spoke simply and honestly. Kellin stood on the edge of the assembly, keeping an eye on Keirkrad, who had recently awakened. But throughout the day there had been no signs of Vell, and those barbarians who went combing the valley for him found nothing but a great many large indentations in the ground.
"Our destiny awaits us inside the High Forest," Thluna said. "Our future will be decided there. Our trail is set by the Thunderbeast itself. But our enemies are many, some of our strongest warriors are lost, and this camp must stay strong. When he designed this quest, Sungar did not foresee this calamity, and I can't follow the plan he had set. My place had been to remain in camp, but the chief of the Thunderbeasts must lead this journey. In my stead, Hauk Graymane, bane of orcs and Blue Bears, hero of the Red Ridge, shall lead with all his wisdom." A cheer went up on behalf of Hauk, one of the tribe's most respected elders.
"Sungar also wanted Hazred along with him on this expedition," Thluna went on, facing the skald. "He is the Voice, the keeper of our stories and our soul. I know Sungar's reasons, but I cannot now deprive this tribe of its skald. Hazred is the history of this tribe, which is now more important than ever for safekeeping.
"Some of you wonder what of Everlund and our pact with them? It may well be that our unseen foe no longer has any interest in this camp, but it may equally be that the attack of last night is just a taste of what they mean for us. Still, it is important that we stand on our own, now more than ever. Let only the direst circumstances compel you to retreat to Everlund's door."
As shouts of encouragement came out of the assembled tribe, Kellin felt a swell of admiration for Thluna. He was nervous, that was certain, but he faced the tribe with the undeniable authority befitting a chief. Kellin knew Sungar would be proud if he were here. But was Keirkrad? Like some ancient, shriveled turtle he stood, passing silent judgment but never betraying anything on his features.
What followed was a hunting ritual Kellin had read about, and was delighted to witness firsthand. Thluna called the name of each man chosen for the quest. Each was showered with a litany of titles and accomplishments, many of them better suited to gods than men. The stout warrior Hengin was praised as "the vengeful arm of Uthgar," the scout Draf as "faster than the white rabbit and as unseen as a ghost," and Keirkrad was hailed as "the Thunderbeast's greatest blessing upon our tribe." Not even this drew a rise from the shaman.
With the roll completed, Thluna turned his eyes to Kellin. "Lastly, there is the matter of Kellin Lyme." His voice was soft, almost apologetic, and Kellin knew what he was going to say. "We must thank her. She delivered to us a lost piece of our heritage, and she helped us in our battle last night, taking the wounds to prove it. And more, she's done what perhaps no outsider ever has-offered her assistance to us not for any personal gain, nor compelled by pressing circumstance, but only because she thought it the right thing to do." Thluna's voice was almost breaking.
"But in conscience I cannot allow her a place with us. We are Thunderbeasts, and it's all the more important-now that our tribe faces so much crisis-that we strive to keep ourselves free from outside influence. So go with our thanks."
Kellin nodded. She understood, but she flushed with anger when she saw a smile cross Keirkrad's lips. Then the hush over the camp was shattered by a loud "No!"
Everyone turned to find the source, and their eyes fell upon Vell at the camp's edge, striding closer. He appeared just as he had before-a young Uthgardt warrior-but his countenance was different. Passed again from man into beast and back, his presence resonated with a new authority-one that awed and terrified the Thunderbeasts. The assembly of barbarians parted as he strode forward toward Thluna, and fear washed over their faces.