#40: The Promise

Fireshear is a mining town situated atop a cliff that overlooks the Sea of Swords.  There is a series of wooden stairs and platforms that lead up from the shore to the city, ramps designed to handle both foot traffic and cargo.  The main exports of Fireshear are copper and silver; its population is predominately human, though several halflings and dwarves can be seen about town.  There is no proper public house or inn—instead, parties seeking accommodations usually contract guest houses designed to fulfill the need for such services, usually for merchant groups or caravans passing through to destinations further north. There are, however, multiple taverns where food and drink can be found.

As we begin unloading Moonmaiden, we see Revenant step from the ship to go and meet his contacts in Fireshear. We spend most of our day of arrival in toil, as we carry bodies of the deceased from our ship, heavy, waterlogged sacks containing our grisly cargo that leak blood and sea water.  The cliffs reach a height of nearly 100 feet, and we work hard to transport the fallen crew members, laying the sacks side by side in rows while a large pyre is constructed.

The crew that survived is in poor shape—while we healed those in direst need of our magic, many were either beyond our ability to heal or bear wounds that exceeded our meagre talents.  Severed limbs, men with limps, all survivors of our dire voyage stand gathered; Captain Azurris stands before all and raises his voice to deliver a speech.

“Today, we honor those who fell in battle aboard Our Fair Ship, Moonmaiden.  They fought bravely, to the one, and on this night, we forge a promise to hold their names forever in the depths of our souls, for they died so we could live.”  Captain Azurris then begins to read the names the fallen one by one, slowly.  After the first name read—Zargon of Dagger’s Deep, I hear nothing else, overcome with loss, and only regain my bearings when Captain Azurris finishes his litany, and pauses for the gravity of the toll to sink in.

The Captain steps to the pyre with a burning brand and sets it to the pyre—the conflagration is instant, and the heat of the roaring flame does little to allay the sullen chill that has grasped all gathered.  A few weep openly for comrades lost, others stand in solemn silence as the fallen are consumed.

“To those of you who stand before me now,” he continues, “your obligation to Moonmaiden is fulfilled.  Throughout the coming season, the ship is yours to call home, for the purpose of lodging and shelter.  Her food stores are committed to Captain and Crew, but these will last but more than a fortnight.  Thereafter, your provisions are yours to supply.

“When Moonmaiden is ready again to make sail, any who wish passage to the next destination shall have room aboard Our Fair Ship, in addition to sustenance and quarter for the duration of the voyage.”

When the flames of the pyre have burned low, and when those gathered begin to depart for alehouses or other places of sanctuary within Fireshear, we are approached by a familiar pair, the Tunterhorn brothers Arcon and Raganok.  I am glad for this, for I meant to seek them out on my own.  The brothers share that they owe us a life debt for pulling one of them from the brink of death during the battle at Illusk.

“Is it your plan to seek work here?  What are your plans for the immediate future?” I ask them.  The brothers respond that they intend to find work as guards or miners.  I offer them a fare wage for service as our personal bodyguards, explaining that we’re in a rough land and might have use of stalwart and trustworthy men to watch our backs.  A miner’s wage in Fireshear could be as much as 25 or even 50 gold pieces for a month of work; with Dame’s departure window still in question due to repairs and harsh conditions on the sea, I offer them terms of 50 gold pieces for the pair of brothers per month for guard service, and an equal share of any more dangerous endeavor, should they choose to join us.  The brothers are amenable to the offer, and we clasp arms to seal the deal.

When that business is concluded, Bonie points out something she noticed during Captain Azurris’ speech.  One of the names he read did not match what we remember from the roster—Angeline Azurris.  We surely would have made the connection had it been listed that way in the roster, and from our memory, we don’t recall anyone of relation to Captain Azurris being aboard and decide to address the matter with him later.

Audric asks of our plans for the coming weeks.  “For now, for the extent of this season at least, Fireshear will be our home,” I reply, eager to learn more about our new surroundings and this new opportunity.  Over the next three days, Lom spends time in training, and we spend our time investigating, learning what we can about Fireshear and the hardy folk that call it home.  In Fireshear, mining rules all—not all that different from Mirabar—but the environment this far north, across the sea, is vastly different.  There are trails that lead from Fireshear deeper into Icewind Dale itself, several hundred miles of arduous journey that isn’t safe in any season.  Bryn Shander and Ironmaster are towns to the north that I know to lie upon these trails, and trafficking goods to these remote settlements is a steady source of work for groups such as ours.

One of the taverns, The Singing Manticore, draws our interest, with crowds that number in the hundreds, and it seems that it is where many business deals are conducted.  We make it our haunt, trying to ascertain the various factions and noteworthy residents.  After a few nights, we are approached by an older man—perhaps in his fifties—and it seems clear that he has business with us.  Our reputation, it seems, has preceded us.

“Fine evening we’re having,” he says in greeting.  His hair is long and gray, unkempt, and he has a white beard and wears a common robe beneath which bulges a backpack full of gear.  Introductions are made, the conversation led by Audric, and the older man introduces himself as Vonn Wintershade.  “I would surmise that you are seasoned adventurers,” he says, and asks what our business was aboard the ship.  Disbelieving that he doesn’t already know, we state simply that we were guards, but Vonn knows the deception for what it is, confirming that our reputation is well known.

Vonn lives a full day’s ride from Fireshear, some 40 miles or more remote from town, in an old stronghold with his “master,” Berigaard.  Vonn explains that he is an apprentice wizard, which catches my attention.  Vonn further explains that he often comes to Fireshear to fetch goods for Berigaard.  Vonn has been in Fireshear for an extended period this particular trip, as Berigaard asked for privacy for several weeks, his expenses paid by his master, to conduct research in some arcane matters.  Upon Vonn’s return to the keep, however, he found the stronghold empty and Berigaard missing.  Vonn’s money has run out and his stay at one of Fireshear’s guest houses is over, and thus he has come to us seeking aid.

Berigaard is a transplant from Neverwinter, having arrived over a year ago, about the same time that he met Vonn.  They traveled together to the stronghold with a pair of hired men, and together they slew a frost giant that had taken up residence in the keep, seizing it for their own.  For months thereafter, they cleansed that land surrounding of other threats—goblins, mostly—and claimed the keep to conduct their studies.  Berigaard’s purpose in traveling north was to seek isolation to further hone his arcane craft.

I ask Vonn what his involvement was in the slaying of such a mighty foe, and Vonn explains that he was but an apprentice at the time and assisted only little—Berigaard did most of the arcane work.  I ask what types of magic may have been brought to bear against such a foe, and Vonn explains that various conjurations and bolts of energy were used to weaken the creature so that the guards could slay it.  The answer is cryptic, but it is common among mages to keep the extent of one’s knowledge of the craft secret, so I inquire no more.  When asked about his past, Vonn claims that he hails from a fishing village farther north in Icewind Dale—when pressed on his knowledge of the region, he provides satisfactory answers to quell any suspicions.

“As apprentice, do you know what manner of protections, specifically those of an arcane nature, would be in place in your master’s absence?”  The keep, Vonn explains, has defenses purely mundane—walls, a locked gate, but no magical protections of which Vonn knows.  Vonn explains that while he has been a practitioner for several decades, he remains but a novice in the Art—we are reminded of Renwal of Dagger’s Deep, and don’t think much of the disparity between age and ability.

Audric asks what he found when Vonn returned to the keep—Vonn explains that the keep was barred from the inside and thus he was not able to gain entry.  He waited outside the keep for two days, exposed to the elements and running out of provisions, before returning to Fireshear to seek help.

“What makes you think we can get in?” Audric asks.

“What makes me think you can get in?” Vonn replies incredulously.  “I’ve heard stories told of your voyage aboard Moonmaiden.” 

Finding ourselves at loose ends, we come to an accord, and promise to aid Vonn on his return to the keep and to try and find a way to gain entry.  When asked about providing accommodations for Vonn, he declines.  “I’m a man of the North, one more night with Holdfast is no burden to me.”  Holdfast is revealed to be his traveling companion, a hound.  We agree to meet the next morning and part ways.

The following morning, I ask Vonn if knows how to ride a mount, and he reveals that he does indeed—and that he also has the ability to conjure such a beast.  I am encouraged by this display of trust as well as impressed by the ability.  We display our own abilities as Audric, Selben and I conjure mounts for the rest of the party—seven of them—and realize that the Tunterhorn brothers, as well, may not have known the extent of the magic at our disposal.  They seem pleased with their choice of employer, and we depart.

As the day presses on, Vonn leads us into a light forest, the wood line bracketing the rough trail.  After several long hours of uneventful riding, we see the dark stone keep in the distance.  It reminds us very much of Oldkeep, though obviously in better repair.  There are no signs of anything living or dead, only the quiet keep ahead in the distance, though we are later encouraged as we witness local fauna in the form of birds and small animals.

Vonn explains that the main courtyard has a single gated entrance, ringed by 20-foot stone walls.  Within lies an inner keep beyond the courtyard.  The outer gates are wood reinforced with iron, providing no easy way to enter.  Selben mutters the words of a spell before laying his hands upon me, and trusting in my apprentice’s craft, I nimbly scale the walls assisted by his magic and climb to the top of the crenelated battlements.  In one corner of the courtyard, I witness a large pile of what appears to be frozen refuse—an artifact of the previous resident, apparently.  Not seeing any obvious threat, I descend and attempt to lift the heavy bar and open the gate.  I have to throw my back into it, but I manage to dislodge the bar and I drop it to the ground with a heavy thud, sweat glistening from my brow as the gate swings open.

We spare a few moments to consider how this may have been locked if Berigaard left the keep of his own free will.  Vonn, perplexed, confirms that Berigaard uses the gate to enter and exit the keep, though points out that it’s odd for it to be barred; usually the gate is closed, unbarred unless there is some obvious threat.  The Tunterhorn brothers bar the door behind us as we make our way to the inner keep.

“Far be it from me to question your fighting abilities,” Vonn warns, “but as we enter the keep, beware that my master is adept in magic.”  He cautions us against the chance that his master may have perhaps gone mad, a notion that frankly makes us feel quite uncomfortable now that we’re confined within the walled keep.

Vonn does not possess a key to the inner keep; Audric tugs on the reinforced wooden double doors and finds them locked.  The inner keep is tall—Vonn confirms that it is a single story with high ceilings—and is bracketed by a pair of stone towers.  There are several windows open to the elements, though they are all out of easy reach.  Bonie offers her services to attempt the door—surprising us all, she withdraws a small pouch that contains a set of lockpicks.  “Huh,” Audric expresses, as Bonie spends a few minutes at her work.  There’s the sound of metal grating on metal, before finally she turns away sweating.  “I can’t get it,” she admits.

Audric steps forward with a solution of his own, stepping a few paces to the left of the door, the warrior chanting as he lays his hand upon the stone.  Amazingly, the stone responds to his magic, and Audric forms a circle with his hands—the stone seems to melt away, creating a portal large enough for us to step through. 

From within, we are assaulted by a foul stench of death and decay.  Our minds immediately return to Xantharl’s Keep, where we encountered a clutch of deadly undead that nearly defeated us.  The scars of that encounter are well remembered, Audric shrinking away from the portal he created as I voice the words of a protective spell on myself.

Vonn steps to the portal and whispers an incantation of his own, peering into the keep beyond.  The chamber is dimly illuminated, lit only by what remains of the fading light of the setting sun.  Vonn’s magical perception detects a pair of undead near the entrance, and the mage comes clambering back through the portal.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask.

Vonn explains that which was revealed by his magic.  “There are undead within; Berigaard is a master of necromancy, and I fear that we are all in danger.”  Vonn explains that he’s never witnessed the capability to create such creatures from Berigaard, and fears what it may mean for his master.  “That would have been great to know before trying to get into the keep,” we complain, but Vonn simply shrugs.

I send the Tunterhorn brothers to the front gate to open it should we need to withdraw and instruct them to stand guard.  Stooping down to grab a pebble, I whisper a prayer and call up powers granted to me by Malar, causing the stone to glow with a divine light.  I toss it through the portal, and it clacks against the stone floor within; eerily, there is no response.

Audric draws his enchanted blade, takes a deep breath, and ducks through the portal.  To his right, he can see, stationed at either side of the door, a pair of upright corpses.  They are outfitted in remnants of armor and stand a silent vigil over the entryway.  They turn to regard Audric, and he withdraws—pushing the others away, he and I stand guard over the portal,

The creatures do not follow, so I incant a few more words to bolster our defenses as Lom, Audric and I climb through the hole to deal with the threat.  The creatures lumber towards us, dragging crude weapons behind them.  Audric carves a chunk of flesh from one of the corpses, and the creature’s shoulder falls to the ground in a pile of rotted flesh.  Lom stabs through the rib cage of another, but they seem unconcerned with the wounds—Lom is battered by one of the creatures and we press our attack.

I brutalize one of them with the enchanted maul, and it explodes in eerie silence as Audric cleaves through the other with his sword as the both fall to the ground, still.  We call our companions into the hall.  The entry chamber is large, perhaps 60 by 30 feet, with high ceilings.  Vonn steps through and scans the area, indicating that the immediate area is clear of further undead.  We gather torches from sconces on the wall and light them, preparing to investigate the keep.

Two narrow corridors lead from the main chamber, one leading to Vonn’s personal chamber, the other to Berigaard’s.  Vonn knows that a pair of towers is accessible from either corner of the hall.  Vonn knows of nothing below his own quarters, though there is a cellar accessible from outside as well as storage beneath each tower.  Vonn admits that he has never been inside Berigaard’s chamber.

Not wanting to leave any threat behind us, we investigate the main hall and Vonn’s quarters first, finding them undisturbed.  The door to Berigaard’s chamber is closed, and we hear nothing beyond it.  Audric gives the handle a tug and finds it open.  He steps back as he and Lom draw bows, and I push the door open.

There is a light within, only visible when the door is opened.  I heave the door open and situated in the center of the room is a large table covered in various parchments, lit by a flickering hooded lantern.  Behind the table is a man, and he rises to his feet with a staff in his hand.  He wears a heavy robe with the cowl folded down upon his shoulders, revealing his face.  There is a darkness about the man, and we discern that the skin of his neck is blackened, though the cause of the malady is not evident.  “Vonn!” Audric and I call, and Berigaard’s apprentice steps forward.

Berigaard clangs his staff onto the ground and shouts, “Silence!”  Around the room, we witness a number of skeletons standing guard, each bearing a long knife, their eyes flickering with necromantic light.  Vonn did not know this was an ability that his master possessed.  “Vonn, you should not have returned.  You should not have brought others with you.”

“What was your plan for me?” Vonn demands.  “We studied together for months.  If you wanted to sever ties with me, why would you have not said so before?”

“Depart from this place,” Berigaard commands.  “You are no longer needed here.  I’m destined for far greater things than you!”

“Since when did Berigaard turn to madness?” Vonn asks.  “Master, if your studies of these arts were meant for evil, you know that I came to you to learn to fight evil.  This must be addressed.  When the orcs raided my village and killed all my loved ones, I came to you seeking help.”

Berigaard interrupts Vonn’s speech, rapping his staff on the floor, ere Bonie puts her hands on her head, clasping her ears, nearly doubling over.  When she looks up at me, it is with a face not like her own, and I am struck by the notion that she might take up her sword against me.  She seems to shake off the effect and is visibly shaken.  “Something just happened,” she explains.

Berigaard makes a motion that sweeps across the room, uttering a spell from his lips, and we are overwhelmed by a magic-induced malaise.  The air feels thick, our motions slowed, our entire perception seemingly altered by the magic that assaults us.  For a second time, Bonie resists the magical coercion, and looks hatefully at Berigaard, raising her bow to loose an arrow, but it misses and shatters against the wall behind him.  Lom fires as well, though affected by whatever magic was brought to bear against us, is not able to aim with any degree of accuracy.

A brilliant fan of magical colors emanates from Vonn’s fingertips and washes over Berigaard, but the necromancer seems unaffected by his apprentice’s spell.  Audric works through a familiar conjuration and stream of bats envelops Berigaard.  The mage starts flailing to fight off the bats as I finish my own spell, capturing the necromancer in a globe of silence.

Two of the skeletons, fell lights flickering from within dark sockets, march from their positions towards Vonn, and the apprentice is stabbed viciously as three more confront Bonie and Lom, barring our way into the chamber and separating us from Vonn.

Berigaard withdraws, unable to voice spells in defense, retreating into a corridor opposite the entrance to the room.  Vonn uses his dagger to deftly fend off attacks from the skeletons that assault him and manages to prevent further wounds.  I charge through Lom and Bonie into the chamber to aid against Vonn’s attackers, but don’t manage much more than presenting a distraction.

A skeleton slashes at Vonn again, cutting deep into the mage’s outstretched arm as he holds it up to defend against an attack.  Bonie and Lom surge forward, managing to dodge attacks as they land a few blows in return.  Audric breaks through the ranks of the skeletons but, slowed and clumsy as a result of Berigaard’s spell, receives slashes from his foes for the effort.  My own attack is feeble, and while I strike the skeleton, it does little more than shatter a few ribs.

Selben steps up to fill in the gap left by Audric, and shoves his torch into a skeleton which combusts, its bones brittle, and the undead creature falls to the ground motionless.  Vonn withdraws from the melee—once he is safe, I bound over the table and race after Berigaard, nearly getting hamstrung by one of the skeletons as I rush past it.  I shrug off the wound, intent on my prey, and see the necromancer huddling at the bottom of a staircase, holding his staff out at me menacingly.

Bonie and Selben together, torch and blade, dismember another skeleton.  Audric suffers more wounds as he fends off a pair of attackers, the necromancer’s spell greatly decreasing the warrior’s effectiveness, making his strikes slow and off balance, his defense clumsy.  Selben presses his torch into another skeleton, causing it to step back and allowing Bonie to force her way into the chamber.  She swings her sword in a horizontal arc and decapitates one of the skeletal foes.

The necromancer raps his staff against the floor feebly in silence, still unable to verbalize the components of an arcane offense or defense.  My own sense of sound disappears as I enter the radius of my spell, and I smile at the wizard, mouthing the words “You’re mine.”

I raise my maul and sweep it downward in a crushing blow which crashes into Berigaard’s arm; I can feel the bones crunch, even if I can’t hear it.  He parries my second attack, my strikes hindered by the cramped quarters of the narrow passage and uneven footing on the stairs.

Berigaard pulls himself to his feet and tries to shoulder past me, and I catch him in the hip with a sweeping strike from my maul as he flees back into the chamber above.  Knowing that my conjured silence will soon fade, I race after him, stumbling up the stairs, but Berigaard slips away before I can catch up.  Lom positions himself in the opening of the corridor as Berigaard makes a break to escape and manages to just slip by as the ranger fumbles an attack, his efficacy hindered by Berigaard’s magic.

Audric is nearly cut down by the two remaining skeletons, having suffered many accumulated wounds.  He parries attacks desperately as Bonie cuts down a skeleton, Selben swinging his torch to drive off another.

I follow Lom as we race after Berigaard, and emerge in the main chamber where we spy him outside the door leading to one of the towers.  Lom fires an arrow that whizzes past me as I race to close with the necromancer, just as my conjured silence fades.  Berigaard raises his voice with a spell as I charge him, unleashing a dark purple bolt of energy that strikes me full in the chest.  I feel instantly diminished and deteriorated as the spell strips away my strength will to fight.  I charge through the bolt and retaliate, striking Berigaard as he retreats up the stairs of the tower.

We share an exchange of spells as I pursue—I feel momentarily slowed, an effect that I shake off as he darts away from my retaliatory spell, an arrow of conjured acid that splashes against the wall behind him. 

An arrow flies past my shoulder as Lom draws a bead and strikes Berigaard through his neck, slaying him.  The necromancer topples, sliding down the stairs and leaving a stream of blood in his wake.  I ask Lom if he wants to claim his kill, and he defers to me.  I step forward and grab his tongue as Berigaard gurgles blood with his last breaths, and sever it from his mouth.  This close, I can see that a huge patch of his skin is blackened, its stench putrid.  I wipe my blade off on his robe, then grab a boot and drag Berigaard behind me, his head bouncing on the stone stairs, making a sickening sound as it is repeatedly pulverized.  I’m not willing to leave this damned necromancer alone, even dead.

Audric returns to Berigaard’s chamber and investigates.  There is an object on the floor, a heavy stone disk with eight uniform, jagged points.  Inscribed in each of the points is a primitive looking rune or symbol—moon and sun, tree and skull, bird and bear, fire and wave.  It bears more evaluation later.  There’s an inscription in the middle in a language Audric doesn’t recognize.

There are spell components and bits of parchment that look like spell research strewn about the chamber.  Vonn seems visibly upset—he explains that Berigaard knew that Vonn’s own research was geared towards combating the types of horrors that his master created to fight them.  He further explains that he and Berigaard were not intimate friends—the line between master and student was very clearly drawn—but this makes the betrayal no easier to accept.

Vonn’s own chamber and the towers seem intact, empty of any further threat.  At the bottom of the staircase in Berigaard’s chamber, Audric discovers a depression in the wall that seems to match the shape of the disk he recovered from the quarters above.

We decide to shelter in the keep through the night.  Audric and I tend to the group’s injuries; while effective, we are unequal to the task, with Audric and Vonn both bearing many wounds and others more lightly wounded.  We drag the zombie corpses to the refuse pile outside.

I awaken in the middle of the night and feel rejuvenated, as if the lingering effect of Berigaard’s magic has worn off.  Remembering the purple bolt that struck me, I whisper a prayer to Malar in thanks.  I keep Berigaard’s’ body close as we rest through the night, unwilling to let it out of my sight.

In the morning, after a brief period of study, Selben applies his magic to an examination of the disk.  None of us have ever seen anything like this in our magical studies, nor do any of us recognize the language in which it is written.  Selben, however, aided by magic, is able to comprehend the inscription, and he relays its meaning to us.

“To seek the cure inside, the fallen sun must rise.”  We believe this to be a reference to the symbols which surround the disk, paying special attention to the moon and sun arranged on opposite sides.  While Selben and Audric examine the disk more closely, Vonn sorts through the gathered parchments.  After some discussion and applying the most rudimentary of spells to discern magical writings, we recognize the research to be related to a spell such as the one Selben just used, something to decipher the inscription on the disk.

Vonn recovers Berigaard’s spellbook and staff, and I look upon the tome with both excitement and reluctance.  Who can know what fell magics might lie within—a book like this is better destroyed lest it fall into the wrong hands.  Vonn offers to share its contents with us, an extremely generous and tantalizing offer, knowing that we are more versed in magical knowledge than he.  “However, I must ask for the staff for myself.”  Vonn knows that the staff will allow the wielder to control minds of others, and we believe it to be the effect that he attempted to use on Bonie to turn her against us. Our suspicions are confirmed when Vonn describes how Berigaard used its power to turn goblins in the area against one another.  A terrifying implement indeed.  Berigaard was possessed of a protective magical ring, as well, and we make a note to set aside time to its study later.

Audric believes he knows the answer to the riddle of the disk, believing it to be a key.  He also feels that he understands its use from the inscription, and in a brazen display he inserts the symbol with the sun pointing down and rotates it so that the sun rises to the pinnacle.  We hear a click and a grinding of stone upon stone, as the end of the corridor at the foot of the stairs reveals a door.  The effect seems purely mechanical, not magical—an engineering marvel.  Audric gives the door a shove and it opens, revealing a chamber beyond that looks as if it has not been disturbed for ages.

The room is not very large, perhaps 15 by 25 feet, smaller than Berigaard’s chamber.  Within is a lidless stone sarcophagus that contains the remains of what looks to be a human—only bones remain, its clothes having long since rotted away.  Audric waves us all back and enters the chamber on his own, but not before I layer every protective spell at my disposal on him.

Audric tells us to be ready to shut the door behind him if something happens.  Examining the sarcophagus, aside from the remains he finds a crude handaxe, a small vial, and a gold chain with a white agate stone talisman.  It appears to be more than just mundane jewelry, more a symbol than a decoration, to we know not its meaning or purpose.   Above the sarcophagus is a stone placard bearing an inscription in what appears to be the same language as that etched into the disk.  Audric ushers Selben—and no one else—into the room, and my apprentice translates.

A traveler from afar
Of a world beyond the world
Lost in ours
Rest peacefully, my friend

The date is “The Year of the Stranger, 1064 DR,” nearly 200 years ago.  Selben leaves the room and Audric gathers the items from the sarcophagus—hand axe, vial, and necklace.  We are relieved that nothing ill happens as the corpse and its possessions are disturbed.  When the door is shut, we hear the grinding of stone upon stone again and the door reseals.  We are able to discern, spaced at even intervals, tiny holes in the stonework—we believe this to be a trap, likely that which left Berigaard with the putrid black marks on his skin.  I thank Malar that Audric was spared such a fate, and marvel again at my companion’s ingenuity.

With many items to examine and mysteries to ponder, we set about cleaning up the keep to make it habitable—Vonn has extended an invitation for us to remain, as the keep now belongs to him and there are none to dispute his claim.