Several feet away from you, sitting on the cold ground, are two women you recognize: Gnani Bhekar and Alíreth Silvergleam. Alíreth is clearly upset and crying softly as Gnani strokes her back in a gesture of comfort. In the foreground of your vision field the figure of a large man lies face-down in the earth.
“Gnani,” the elven woman sniffs, “what are we going to do with him?”
You are standing in a drawing room or an office of some sort. A roaring fire blazes in the hearth, throwing warm light dancing across the room. A large wooden desk stands in one corner, the clutter of business strewn across its surface. You are wearing fine garb, in hues of deep blue, and sit upon a plush divan. After a few moments the door opens and a man walks in. You rise to greet him. He is tall, lean, and dressed in finely tailored black clothing shot through with silver.
“Thank you for coming,” he addresses you. “If what you say is true, then your mission is of the utmost importance.” He unfolds the black velvet from around the item he had been holding. Inside, a sword gleams in the firelight. “Here. Take this. It should be of use to you.”
Speaking with Sakesu Windrider
This vision is from the perspective of someone laying on their side. Charles Gilbratore is speaking with a sad-looking elf woman.
“Alíreth, what have you done?” he asks.
She smiles weakly at him. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. You of all people should understand that.”
“Oh Ali…” He pulls her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head in a familiar, comforting gesture.
Researching Gilbratore in the Jarrow Library
Two individuals stand at a campfire outside the entrance to a cave. One, a halfling woman covered in dirt and gore, is arguing vehemently with a tall, handsome gentleman. He has a strong jaw and piercing eyes that look hollow and tired. The vision is from a low angle, and the perspective does not change as they move. Throughout the vision Micah feels…hungry.
“Charles, we don’t even know if Ali is alive! You were reckless. You put everyone in danger.”
“I did what I thought was best,” he retorts. “You know I did.”
“Do I? Are you sure?” She pauses, glowering up at him with her arms crossed.
He looks back at her, unflinching. “Gnani, if you want to second-guess my every move, then go right ahead. But don’t think it changes anything. You know what we have to do.”
“You’re wrong, Charles,” she says softly. “It does. And if I can’t trust you then this” she gestures to the space between the two of them-“is done.” There is a long pause while she waits expectantly for a response that doesn’t come. “Fine. I guess that’s it then.” She spins and starts to collect her things into a rucksack.
In the cultist base outside Goldendale
You watch as a dragon soars overhead, circling again. A hood obscures the face of the tall figure in front of you; some sort of magical effect is making it difficult to focus. They gesture and a bird of prey alights on their arm. From within the hood you see a glint of steely blue eyes as they turn and speak a command you cannot hear. The bird takes to the skies. In that moment of distraction the distance between you closes. You know this face well.