Aransar awoke from his sleep, his brain still slightly addled from the wine he had drunk that night. Something was amiss. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and what he was hearing; the sound of sandaled feet tramping through the courtyard outside and shouts of alarum. He arose and walked quietly to the window, peering between the wooden shutters.
In the dimly lit megaron he could see the mercenary guards of the citadel moving to secure the exits. In a dim recess of his mind he made the connection between Orlkensor’s ‘conquest’ and the possibility of some indiscretion. He could not think of any other connection, and the guards were looking inward, not to the walls...
Gathering what equipment he could and donning his armour, his heart beating ever harder as the minutes passed, he continued to listen to the gathering ruckus, but, unable to speak the local tongue, he could only guess as to what was going on.
Realising that he had no idea as to the location of any of the other members of the party he decided to act. Under the cover of the noise in the courtyard he reached out of the window and found the handholds necessary to begin the slow climb up to the top of the citadel. With whispered prayers to Orlanth he gradually scaled the ancient wall, wincing as his fingers dislodged small pieces of centuries old mortar and sent them quietly tumbling to the stone below.
On the roof he re-appraised the situation. Finding a vantage point in the shadows of night that allowed him to survey the scene below, Aransar secreted himself in the archaic masonry. The frantic activity below continued for some time. He could recognise several different search parties in the milling groups below, moving throughout the citadel. One group entered his quarters and returned bellowing alarm and throwing the remains of his equipment into a dishevelled heap into the courtyard. As other mercenaries returned he recognised the effects of other party members treated in the same way, but there was no sign of any of his comrades.
As the night wore on he saw both Orlkensor and his brother Branduan dragged into the courtyard at spearpoint and hurled to the floor. They were dragged away and Aransar could only look on helpless as they were taken within the dark stone walls to what fate he could not guess.
Staying hidden until the early rays of the Sun began to illuminate the eastern horizon, he contemplated regaining his mount. He moved quietly over to the outer courtyard where the animals had been taken from them, and it was then that he was seen by two of the guards also on the roof. A desperate attempt to bluff them was ignored, but, un-slinging his bow he put an arrow in the chest of the first guard and then clashed sword on shield with the other. As he downed the first two, he was attacked by another pair and the fight began to go against him.
Fortune favours the brave. Aransar was able to disable the guards one at a time. As one lay on the floor desperately casting healing on himself, Aransar was able to disable the other. The fight went to and fro for a few minutes before both guards lay slain.
A quick look into the main courtyard told him all he needed to know. The citadel was sealed, and he would never get his horse through multiple guarded gates. He cast mobility and took off for the far side of the roof. As he ran across the roof, more guards were arriving up there in response to the raised alarm. Shouting instructions at them in trade sewed a little confusion and bought him the time he needed to get to the edge of the citadel roof and begin to scale down the cyclopean walls.
At the bottom he was wracked with indecision. His friends were foremost in his mind and he could not contemplate his escape on foot. Moving round to the main gate his hopes were finally dashed. The numbers were against him, and he could not assault the citadel on his own. He took a moment to curse his rash use of his sylph to attack the gorgon some few weeks earlier.
He headed east, striking a trail that took him to the south of the main track, heading toward the citadel of Trilus where he had heard that the king, Yalaring Monsterslayer dealt with the Aldryami, and would perhaps bring to light the information that would lead to the Windsword. The jouney took him four hungry days...
Aransar arrived at the citadel of Trilus in Earth Season 1615. As a lightbringer he found a degree of welcome from King Yalaring Monsterslayer and was able to take residence at the hall of the Lightbringers where he met others who shared his cause, though it should be noted that he kept the true nature of his quest a secret from all that he met.
He took service with King Yalaring, reprising his role as a mercenary cavalry officer whilst he studied and practiced the local tongue, Balazaring. He found new comradeship with the orlanthi who made this foreign citadel their home.
However, always at the forefront of his intentions was to seek information about the Windsword. He learned that he was not the only orlanthi who sought the sword. A Wind Lord by the name of Torath Manover also quested for it, and had done so obsessively for many years now but with no success.
Trilus was located on the southern border of an ancient and now jaded Aldryami kingdom, long tired by wars with the other elder races. Knowing that there was some elven link to Alakoring’s blade, Aransar took every opportunity to treat with elf-kind, and became an emissary from King Yalaring to the elves. He eventually won their trust by leading an expedition against a troll outpost which was being used as a base from which to raid the elves.
The base was a cave complex in a closed valley to the east, and Aransar led the way, claiming the heads of cave trolls, several dark trolls, and engaging a Son of Karrg in single combat and winning through the ferocity of his attack and the element of surprise. The troll lord managed to escape through the intervention of his god, who sent a cloud of Primal Darkness all the way from Hell which re-invigorated her servant and enabled his escape.
Fleeing back westward to evade the darkness rapidly approaching from the east, Aransar’s fyrd returned first to the Elves where they were greeted as heroes and allies, and Aransar was gifted a magic crystal. He acquired an elven companion, Silverrunning, who would use her prodigious skill with her elf bow to protect Aransar from harm as he went about his business.
When he returned to Trilus, he discovered that his old companions, Orstanor and Kulbrast had managed to escape from Elkoi, and had made their way there after a series of adventures of their own, also finding welcome with King Yalaring. The trio's story resumes as Fire Season comes to an end and thoughts of winter begin to encroach on peoples’ minds...