Silverhall. The seat of House Lebeda. At last, we had reached friendly territory, and were able to unburden ourselves of the Stag Lord. Had the Stag Lord been any less of a monster it might’ve troubled me thinking of what ministrations the Lebedan’s had in store for him. But my heart was hardened to his plight.
The structure of Silverhall was impressive though, to be sure. A lofty keep, high walls. The power of our allies was apparent. I spent most of my free time strolling along the walls of the keep, admiring the commanding view of the surrounding lands and looking inward to inspect the structure of the keep.
All the while the Lebedan’s showed their hospitality; our armor was shined and oiled, weapons sharpened, fine foods eaten and tasty beverages drunk. Lander Lebeda, the scion of his house, played the courteous, if distant, host. However the merry feasting soon came to a halt when Tyberia seemed to have gone missing.
We quickly formed search teams; the charter bearers took to horse to search the country side, the servants and guards searched Silverhall, and Caimbuel, perhaps not trusting our friends, surreptitiously searched Silverhall as well. After a few hours we came upon an encampment, somewhat odd looking, but we knew for sure that it was our target as we were attacked upon approach.
Our foes fought fiercely and with terrible power, summoning what must’ve been demonic powers from the hells to fight for them. But we overcame and upon searching found a gray uniform. No sign of Tyberia. Not allowing ourselves to become crestfallen we continued searching. In time, riders from Silverhall informed us that Tyberia had made her own way back to the castle.
Deridian went to speak with Tyberia about what had happened but neither said much of what had happened. And I did not really feel it my place to step in, nor did I really have time for we had an audience with Dame Sarrona, the real power of House Lebeda.
She thanked us for bringing the Stag Lord to her. When showed the gray uniform, she looked somewhat aghast, identifying the thing to be the uniform of the Gray Gardeners of Galt. Not much else was said about the matter, except that we had her thanks for bringing it discretely to her attention. At the end, she promised her support.
The day ended with the arrival of Brevoy’s king, Noleski Surtova. A ceremony was held, and for fulfilling the terms of our charter, he officially ceded Brevoy’s claim on the Stolen Lands. We were to be made sovereign.