Arthur was surprised to see Thormanil approach him--but he recognized the Shaman as a companion of the shade, De'kra, on Quest 4, as well as from another adventure he could only vaguely remember. Knyghton had been there, and Atramor, and Docken, and Alexandre...and several others he couldn't quite recall. He seemed to remember a talking skeleton wearing a purple cloak...but that surely couldn't be possible, it must have been a side effect of whatever had turned his head hazy. Arthur groaned--his headache had returned...wait, what headache? This one? He recalled some conversation with Schezerade, but all of a sudden a strange sensation had taken hold of the Hall, and he had suddenly had a vision of a man in strange, futuristic clothes swearing profusely for several days. He shook his head--the more he thought on these past few days, the worse his condition got; perhaps it would be best to ignore them for the time being.
As Thormanil began to speak, a thought began to spark within his dizzied mind. Glory. Fortune and glory. Yes, I want that. She might not direclty respect that, but I wonder... Soon, the Sorcerer and the Shaman were engaged in a flurry of plans, discussions, and ideas, sketching out complex diagrams and making several trips back and forth to the Library--Arthur took a moment to borrow some of the more recent Quest records, even if he did not yet have the time to review them. Soon, in a darkened alleyway, Arthur and Thormanil met and shared their plans with another conspirator, and the three began making their final preparations for their undertaking...