Bolios stood in his flying machine, the gigantic Head he piloted for the Black cloak trading company, and looked out of one of the eyes at Silver lake. The light from a full moon on the rise shimmered on the water, while fires from inside the little houses lit up the town pleasantly in the darkness. The smell of roasted fish and baking bread was in the air, making Bolios’ mouth water.
Observing the peaceful town as such, it was hard to imagine that the Silver Lakers’ had undergone so much hardship of late. “The air here is different” he said, partly to himself, and party to his companion Joral.
Bolios took another deep breath of the cool air outside, then turned to contemplate his small companion. The gnome was in a blissful state, enshrouded in a haze of widowsbane, and content with his lot in life. “He’ll be less happy when he finds out that he only has a few more days worth of widowsbane left” Bolios though. “When he runs out, I don’t want to be the man to tell him”.
Bolios was eager to depart. Silverlake was a lovely place, but Bolios longed to fly again, longed to feel the flow of air rush about him as they danced amongst the clouds in the Giant Head he called home. Ever since he had deciphered the tablet, Bolios had felt the pulse of new adventure in his veins. He had never been to the Feywild, and even though he and his companions would likely face unimaginable peril while there, discovering this previously inaccessible land was all he could think of. “Soon now we will depart”. The moon would be at its apex in a few scant hours, the portal to the Fey would then open, and they would be on their way.
Turning his back on Joral, Bolios took a walk up to the observation deck. It was cool out, but offered a better vantage point to observe the return of his companions, so Bolios took the fine scarf Salopard had purchased for him in Overlook and wrapped it around his neck to ward off the chill while he waited.
Alone with his thoughts, Bolios had time to contemplate recent events. The companions had warded off an ambush in the forest while trying to rescue some of the Silver Lakers’, and had managed to acquire the location of the man who had sent the assassins. In the process the heroes had uncovered a mysterious tablet the asked him to look at, but not before they flew back to Overlook. When he had finally deciphered the tablet, the information dealt with such grave matters he ran right to the council chambers to find his friends. The rest of that afternoon was a blur of hurried discussions and planning, and it was only after the fact that Bolios found out what the Black Cloaks had been up to in their absence. Upon reaching Overlook they had discerned the location of the man who had sent the assassins and confronted this Wendel, turning him to their cause. They had then laid waste to the plans of a Succubus who was building a demonic army in an old winery on the outskirts of the city. Apparently the succubus had been controlling Hamish and his faction at the council chambers, and it’s death had left them in a stupor which baffled the council’s healers and mages. All the while, the Black Cloaks had somehow managed to secure the rights to the winery, and employed their former foe, Wendel, to get it up and running. And somehow along the way they’d recruited a young ruffian who had insisted he be called “The Hound” and that he’d been hired on as security for the Head.
Bolios sighed, thinking of the confrontation he’d had with the Hound an hour earlier. The Hound had insisted he was allowed to have his “pets” – a score of cats – on the Head, and that had been the last straw for Bolios. First a boar, then it was a horse to go along with the borderline psychopathic shifter that travelled with them. Now a man by the name of “the Hound” who wanted to bring aboard a collection of cats. He was a mage who piloted a Giant floating head, not some sort of bleating zookeeper! “I’ll have to talk to Salopard when he returns” Bolios thought, but he knew there were more pressing matters at hand. The moon was close now, and Bolios could see his companions lit up by flickering torchlight as they made their way back to the giant Head. A smile crossed his lips, and the air seemed less cool as the flush of adventure permeated his soul. It was time. With a flourish, Bolios tossed his scarf over his shoulder and made his way to the door, closing it on the night behind him.
At that moment, Bolios couldn’t help but remember the teachings of his mentor. “Young Bolios, you must always remember that when one door closes, another door opens”. It was never more true than now. As the Silver Lake faded from his view, he knew the portal to the Feywild had opened.