Every time I go to Stirk, and I’ve been there at least ten times, I almost always arrive at nearly but not always the same time – the magic hour just reaching its last tendrils over before the evening ends and night begins. The sun nears the horizon; night gathers above, bejeweled and waiting. I imagine that the sea breeze is balmy, and perhaps I can taste sorrow in the air – the Crimson Ship carried its burden hopeless into that endless Abecean Sea and were lost. Who mourns them?
Ahhh Mannimarco. He can be such a pain, sometimes. No matter how many ghosts he throws at us, we shall prevail. The Amulet of Kings will be where it rightfully belongs. Mark our words.
When the Player first meets the prophet, he introduces her to the Five Companions. They are in phantom form because they belong to a past only accessible by the prophet’s memories. How empty the table is, with its wide girth and its too-few plates, its empty goblets. How empty the prophet must feel in that vastness of his memory where only the ghosts of his companions reside.
Sai Sahan really kept that amulet locked up nice and safe. Battling the Shadow of Sancre Tor with Stendarr’s mercy was tiring fun, but beating up Mannimarco’s butt was the best part of it all.
Mannimarco explains his plot while we wait to beat him up.