End of Book One
In 25 words or less…Tiamat’s plan foiled, at least in our area. Plans foiled, hoards looted, icky minions dead. Earned gratitude of Lord of Brindal, for what that’s worth.
Reports are still coming in; apparently, four other areas on the continent suffered similar circumstances (Tiamat may be superntural and super-evil, but she’s predictable.) There’s still a town where the hobgoblin followers of the Happy Butterfly god are enforcing law and order (I’m tempted to give into my occasional Novelist’s Syndrome and let that situation devlop just to see what happens). And the Ghost Lord still wants dealing with; I did promise Cedric. Good-aligned clerics are so particular about the disposition of the undead. We’re going to have to recruit an overwhelming force of them to take out His Extreme Deadness.
But first, we have to clear a hobgoblin infestation out of our newly-notarized ruin castle. And meet our forest-giant neighbors. And deal with stuff back in our current home city of Tirandel. And track down Darya’s missing twin sister, Marika. Mom—you know, the elven mafia matriarch?—is no doubt vocal on that subject.
And before any of that, I need a manicure. Ichor is simply disastrous for the cuticles.
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