This interlude takes place on the evening you spent in the Stonelands after leaving the caves which connected to the temple to Cyric, before returning to Eagle Peak. As indicated at the time, the next morning, the prophet had left your camp, leaving no trace, and each of you had a bit of a short memory blank in the middle of your watch. This particular memory returns to you at dinner following your next return to the The Seven Pillared Hall.
It’s a nice night to be camping outside and the valley cuts off the worse of the weather. Thankfully, what breeze remains is sufficient to drive off the smell of the madman you and your allies picked up in the forgotten thane under Eagle Peak. It’s hard to believe that, only one week ago, you woke up in a cave without a clue as to your identity and that, in such a short time, you were held prisoner, targeted by goblin assassins, guests in an orcish camp and witness to a beheading. Frankly, if this is in anyway related to the type of person you were before the incident, it’s no great surprise that you lost some of your marbles or, as the dwarves say, some of your marble.
As you ponder these thoughts, the mass of tattered blankets that is the elven prophet sits before you and looks deep into your eyes. No, that’s not right. He looks beyond your eyes, appearing to search for something inside your head. As you start lifting your weapon to encourage him to give you a wide berth, a crown of black flames sprouts from his brow and he speaks in the same imperious voice he used before, transfixing you: “Hear me once more, Ebon Spur.” You feel a frenzy in the back of your mind. That small part of you that panicked on that faithful day, launches itself at whatever barrier is keeping you from your memories with renewed vigour. The voice continues: “It is within my power to free you from your mnemonic incarceration, this paltry prison cannot prevent me from reaching into the mind of my champions, but, despite your latest exploit, I choose not to. Certainly, while posing as a servant of that miserable Amaunathor, your actions did me honour, but to be caught in such a feeble trap does not become my flock… Perhaps, if you redeem yourself, I might be tempted to point you in the right direction… A test:
Below quicksilver peak
Rescue the grizzled beast
A single key, two sheep astray
Two failures, one reward
Administer or admit
Carry these words
Like others before them, these words will flee your mind, but, fear not, they’ll return at an appropriate time…”
As madness returns to the poor meat puppet so does the familiar refrain: “Forgive the forgotten, forget the forgiven, you forgot and I forgive in the fog…” The previous words forgotten, you swat the annoying man away and return to your watch.