Gathering in Luna, patrons from about the realm waited patiently for the nights activities to begin. A night of conversation and answers were on tap as Lord Dupre summoned those interested parties to meet him in the newly renovated Blackthorns Castle in central Britain. With a great crowd on hand, the goblins of Pitmuck got busy opening thier ice cream stand for everyone’s enjoyment passing the time until the moongate appeared transporting the group.

    Arriving in Britain, everyone simply marveled at the transformation that had taken place inside the long closed castle belonging to the infamous Lord Blackthorn. Last seen as a half man, half mechanical menace, Blackthorn had nearly slipped into distant memory until those in attendance were stunned as Dupre shared some fresh information.

 

  In recent weeks the realm had bound together to aid the refugees of Val Lor Reg, driven from thier homes and now  held in quarantine inside the Tel Mur region. Plagued by an unknown sickness, the populace was near death and civil outbreak as a mysterious healer made his presence known along with what was thought to be a cure for the winged ones. The quick study that is Chesapeake sought out the cure and returned it to the healer saving all they could.

    Lord Dupre and Sherry the Mouse spoke of twisted alternate realities and void hampered moongates as they went on to share that the mysterious stranger was none other than the REAL Lord Blackthorn! Trapped inside the world of Exodus, Blackthorn only recently escaped and found himself in the lands of Tel Mur as if fate had guided him to remedy thier ills. Always fascinated with the species according to Dupre it was no shock to learn that the healer still to this day remains inside the quaratine area to ensure each and every gargoyle recieved proper vaccination. Princess Rhista soon made an appearance confirming much of the suspicions of our hosts. She went on to plea for help for the refugees as she feared thier welcome had run out in the Royal City.

 

   The mead hall was abuzz with whispers and enuendo as everyone was shocked to learn of his survival. Not only were they shocked but quite cautious as to whom and what to believe about the returning noble or his intentions therein. Those in attendance were torn between the belief of justice being needed for his foul actions in past years with a trial and ensuing execution or the possiblilty that this may very well be the bloodline of royalty among us…..

    I could not relent upon hearing the news of Blackthorn’s identity as the mysterious healer. I journied to the Royal Cities quaratine area to lay eyes upon the would be legend myself. He was certainly not the mechanical marauder I remember from my early days. Tirelessly the man worked, creating distributing his own formulated cures to the ill. Dressed in a dark and tattered monks robe he spoke not of his lineage or legend but only of the well being of the refugees.

     One thing is for certain, the return of Lord Blackthorn shall raise many questions. Honor, loyalties and compassion shall be tested should he return to Britain. I shall bear a watchful eye on the mysterious stranger as his story unfolds….