You are presented with the opportunity of meeting the elusive Lord in Arms, a man so rare to one’s sight that there are some, mostly children, who consider him a myth. No doubt there was a time in your youth that you thought this figure was merely a myth; a man created to give hope to the common masses, that with enough struggling and honour one could transcend into the realms of nobility, all as a ploy so that they could continue to use the masses to their own whims.

But no, this man is very real. He is Silverbane’s own Lord in Arms.

The concept of Lord in Arms originates back before to the times of when the ancestor of Queen Amindal first united the Silvers region. At that particular time the King of the Sils, Sils being the name given to the race of people that resided within the region at the time, united the various settlements through conquest. In that process his life had been saved countless times by the skills and determination of others directly, and due to it, some of the first nobility were created, the Lord in Arms. Though the position no longer holds as much sway as it once did, what with the creation of the various titles of Dukes and Baronies, it still very much exists, though is a rare sight.

Considering how few people ever get to meet with Harold, you decide to jump at the opportunity. He is not something that you can ever meet unless the stars align just right, which it seems they did today.

Master Rocksmith then stood and began to pack up the blanket and his book. He motions with his head. “Come along then.” He says as he treks up to his small cabin. He opens up his door with a mighty shove and then places the blanket and book aside. Peering inside you notice he has a dull grey stone floor and walls of simple wood. What catches your attention are the numerous plates of armour that stand, dwarven sized and, you note, dwarven made. A moment later he grabs onto the sword that rests on the stand immediately beside the door and then rests it onto his shoulder, carrying it by the sheathed tip.

A little electricity runs through your body. You can feel your body quickly go cold and then hot before returning to normal.

The blade is long, longer than a traditional longsword by perhaps an inch. It’s solidly built of silver-steel, a precious metal found within the region, but there’s something else about it. The gem within the pommel of the hilt is small, perhaps the size of your thumb’s nail, yet there is great power within it. It ‘s deep black, but there’s a little bit of red energy that glows constantly, shifting and moving like a gentle wave.

There’s something about it that’s… eery. This is not a typical magical blade, no, and you feel as though it’s calling to you.

‘Come to me…’ It seems to say to you.

[Rolling D20]

Roll: (10+1) 11 - Failure

You reach over to touch it, but as you do Rocksmith slaps your hand away. You snap back to your senses and withdraw your hand.

“Sorry about that, I forgot it did that.” Rocksmith chuckles and then flashes an innocent smile at you before he starts leading you towards Harold’s home as if nothing happened.

You follow behind him as your mind returns to it’s typical state, no longer affected by the sword’s pull.

The pathway to Harold’s home is fairly short, you can see the large mansion stands alone near the walls. It is a large thing, much larger than your own home by a tenfold, mostly grey and drab though. The large oak door is simple, though the frame of it is engraved slightly with a wave pattern. The windows are blocked by the curtains inside, not allowing any rays of sun or peering glances to pierce the unknown.

There are no guards standing outside of it, not typical of a noble home where one may have a guard or two to show off to the other nearby nobles.

Master Rocksmith marches along the stone path, during which you decide to ask him about Rover Roamer. He stops in his tracks abruptly, turning to face you. His eyes narrow, as if to ascertain why you’re asking such a question.

[Rolling D20]

Roll: (11+1) 12 - Failure

You aren’t certain as to why, but there is a moment where dread runs through your body. It’s a similar feeling to the sword’s pull, yet there is something different about it.

“For one of our kind to give up their name, to some, it is a fate worse than death. It is an abandonment from one’s people, one’s clan, and there are some that die from even the shame of it. Yet from what I gather, she gave up her clan name willingly. There are many clans that hold fire blood, the blood of traitors.”

[Rolling D20]

Roll: (12+1) 13 - Minor Success

You know of the words fire blood in the dwarven context, thanks for your master. She normally uses it as a curse when she fails something, and you know it is based on dwarven mythology. Dwarves come from two bloods, earth and fire. Where earth blood dwarves are your typical dwarves that create great pieces of work and dwell within their mountains, the fire blood dwarves specialise looting great pieces of work and dwell on lands they take from battle. The coals that lay still and fuel the flames, and the flames that destroy and shape the world.

“Perhaps she was born in one of their clans, and perhaps she no longer wants to be associated with them. Perhaps.” He says. Then he nods, finishing the discussion there as he continues to the large oak door to knock on it with the side of his fist.

A moment later it opens to reveal an older man. Thinly built and tall, like an elongated cane. He has a curly ashen moustache, a thin bears that goes down to a point a couple of inches. He is dressed in fine pale-grey clothing, and there is a silver ring on his left pinky.

“Ah! Good morning Master Rocksmith, a pleasant surprise.” He says in a raspy voice. He glances over at you and then gives you a nod of acknowledgement as Rocksmith returns the greeting.

“I’ve come with the Lord’s blade.” Rocksmith cheerily says.

“I’ll let the master know, I’m sure he’ll be delighted with the news. Please do come inside.” He says as he steps aside and bows slightly, allowing you entry.

The inside of the mansion is mostly wooden, though bare. There are a few plinths that line up the hallway leading up to a staircase that heads up. Both sides of the fairly wide staircase have a closed door, and either side of you there is an archway leading to another room.

The helper leads you towards the left, the living room. It is furnished with a large table, two armchairs, a large couch, and a lantern that rests on the table. There is an unlit fireplace against the back wall, with books that surround it in it’s entirety.

The helper leaves the pair of you to sit and then heads away. You hear him first head up the stairs, then moments later he heads down to the opposite room.

It’s fairly warm within the room, quiet too other than Rocksmith as he wipes the hilt of the sword. He brings it close as if to inspect every last inch.

Then you hear the sound of footfall as the steps approach from the stairs. A tall figure appears at the archway. His eyes as black as night, and his hair fell to his shoulders, blacker still though sprinkled with grey. He is donned within most of a breastplate armour, with a set of blades. To his left he has a typical longsword, and on his right a shortsword.

“I didn’t expect an Easterner.” He says, his eyes obviously assessing you, devoid of any humour. Then his eyes meet Rocksmith’s.

“Excuse me. He escorted me on my way. Lady Rebeca’s apprentice.” Rocksmith says as he shakes Harold’s hand. “I thought it be best to bring your blade along now that I have my time piece.” He chuckles as he hands the blade to Harold.

Harold grabs onto it before thanking the dwarf. He didn’t even check it, instead undoing the blade at his side and replaced it with the magical blade.

“There aren’t many that would skip the festival to run errands, though I suppose that is as queer as your taste in clothing.” He says and then nods his head. Then his eyes shoot a look towards Rocksmith, then back to you, then back to Rocksmith once more.

They have a conversation with each other using their eyes. Then Harold nods and faces you once more. “You should go and enjoy the festival while you have the chance. The first day is always the most boisterous.” He throws another glance towards Rocksmith then he addresses you once more. “Return to me in the evening, at dusk.” As he says so the helper reappears with a tray of cheeses and fruit.

Harold nods at him and once they place down the tray they reach in to their pocket and withdraws a small coin and hands it to you. It’s small, black, with the coat of arms of the Lord in Arms; a sword covered in in a single swirl. It’s the token used to bypass the guards at the front gate.

Inventory: +Harold’s Token

Quest: Harold’s Favour

It’s obvious he has dismissed you so you politely take your leave, the helper forcing a small pouch of cheese and fruit onto you before you step out.

Inventory: +Fine Cheese, +Fine Fruit

You can go and explore the festival, or do something else of your own design. Make your choice.