I depart on the morrow, but one event today seemed significant enough to record here before I leave.
A tall, imposing man presented himself at my door, introduced as Cadugan Ieuan of Famure. Immediately, I was not pleased by his presence. Famure’s reputation is not a good one, especially for the upper class, to which Cadugan apparently belongs. He further solidified my wariness by proclaiming himself a lawbringer of Kingsove, Famure’s capital.
I would not have entertained his presence at all, save that he was accompanied by a most unusual accomplice – the horna, Rathdoronorlen. The monk created quite a stir when he interrupted the king’s Council of War some days ago, then proceeded to join the heroes in bringing down the slavers and cultists beneath the city. His presence in this meeting was somewhat of a mystery. Why was he partnering with this stern man? As Cadugan explained his purpose, the horna’s presence became even more perplexing.
It seems that Cadugan is hunting one of the heroes who did so much for our city. I will admit that I learned very little about the one called Iekodo while he was here, but even so, I find it hard to reconcile his public actions with the vile portrayal Cadugan expounded. People change, it is certain. Perhaps Iekodo found redemption with the Eternal and is a different person now. Or is it possible that he is a darkness within the heroes’ company, biding his time while working for his own selfish purposes?
Whatever the case, there is nothing I can do. I cooly informed the lawbringer that his prey had departed through the Tower of Arkin’s portal and was now hundreds of leagues to the north. This caused him no end of consternation until Rathdoronorlen laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a significant look. They made their farewells and departed almost immediately.
Would that I had time to investigate this mystery! The cause of knowledge constantly frustrates me, as I wish I had time for so much more – to learn so much more. As it is, Arkalania beckons. I must discover what happened to the broken sword.
-from the memoirs of Machaira Ktistes, elven smith