As the party readied themselves to leave, Azreal checked his belongings. He knew what flight was like. He knew it wasn’t always a smooth ride, especially over The Pillars. He shook his pack and noticed that the Lion-Headed Gauntlets had been placed in his bedroll. He lifted one of the magic gauntlets to inspect it more closely and something fell from it. A small roll of parchment tumbled out and rolled across the floor tapping nearby Andolin on the boot. Andolin reached down to pick it up and instantly recognized Malmiir’s seal…
I know my departure was a shock. It was not an easy decision… but as the Rightful Heir to the throne of Tyr, I have a great responsibility. I could no longer allow my people to suffer. My father, still missing. My mother on the run and in hiding. The people, starving and being misled and manipulated by the Queen. Poison smuggled into the kingdom to some unknown end! I was afraid to ask for help, and go back to Tyr, not because you would say no, but because you would say yes! And your talents are needed for the greater good. Without me there to hold you back as the group’s moral conscience, you will be free to do what must be done to save the future! I will try to help by dealing with the Cultists dug in at Tyr. Know that when the time comes, and I fear that it will truly come to pass, I will be there, shoulder to shoulder with all of you, commanding my father’s army, ten thousand strong!