These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
The road to the compound of The Bringers of Woe is a cold one. If Lamoram and the temple of Pelor did not offer us thick furs for the journey we would surely freeze to death. Well, everyone except for Henry who seems more concerned with where we are at the moment. Considering him a brother, seeing that we both have had our lives taken away by The Restless Hand, I ask him what is on his mind.
His home. And more importantly, the kingdom Amon’s father rules.
The excitement wells up within me. I tell him after we deal with this we can head there to find Prince Frost.
The dwarf’s answer is a firm and definitive NO, which leaves me confused. Why would he not want to go there? Surely King Frost would allow him and the rest of us entrance, the two of them are allies. Hell, by the way Henry has spoke of his time there they are good friends. Most of all, we are friends and comrades in arms to his son.
Then the truth comes.
He fears his dealings with Novak and The Restless Hand would be known to Amon’s father and he would be put to death for his actions. That is understandable, any ruler would take a traitor to the guillotine or the gallows. But Henry realized the error of his ways and secretly betrayed the thieves guild, giving Icewall the advantage they needed to win the war. Surely this good king would forgive my dwarven friend after hearing his tell of being pressed into Novak’s service like myself. I believe he would offer him sympathy.
I try to reassure him that this would be the case. If the king is anything like his son he would be kind to Henry and forgive him.
That is where I am wrong.
Randal, who had been listening in to our conversation, speaks up, informing me that the King of Icewall is not friendly to outsiders. He only cares for anything outside the walls if it only benefits himself and his kingdom. More importantly, he would never tolerate any violation of his trust, even to Amon. Those who do so would be sentence to death with no remorse.
As if they were summoned by our conversation, a small group of the king’s soldiers approaches us on horseback making their way to Mirabar. Their gazes are as cold as the chilly air. Both Henry and Dundragon pull furs close to their face with hopes of going unnoticed. I do the same so not to make things obvious as they pass.
Neither of them say anything afterwards. I look to Balasar and Lithia for some kind of support but there is none there. Now knowing this I worry for Amon. I do not know if he was summoned home but I cannot help but feel it was his chosen course. Wherever he may be I hope such misgivings from his father do not fall upon him.