The Redmane soldiers, including Freyja and Meilyr, have gathered in the same area where the Tarnished had for the festival. Jerren is explaining to them how the succession will work. One can see Goldmask and Corhyn in the background. Jerren: The general did not condescend to class or wealth. Jerren: The general did not condescend to bloodline or color of skin. Jerren: The general did not name a successor. Therefore, he left it to me, the survivor, to name him or her. Jerren: Whoever wins this contest will take possession of Castle Redmane as well as her possessions, and sit at the castle's throne.
Jerren: The rules are simple: the contestants will battle. Jerren removes the hood from his helm.
He holds the hood. Jerren: Anyone who wishes to participant shall put their name on a lot into this hat. Jerren: We will then set up the duels.
Warriors, including Freyja, toss lots into Jerren's hood.
Meilyr looks at Goldmask, who nods.
Meilyr throws his lot in.
Jerren pauses. Jerren: Wait. He pulls out Meilyr's lot.
Meilyr's lot has gibberish on it. Jerren: What is this chicken-scratch?
Meilyr: I don't know what this writing thing is.
Jerren: ... Jerren: Heh. Well. So it is.
Jerren, leaving: Alright. I will determine the order of battle.
Freyja nods at Meilyr. Freyja: Luck to you.
Meilyr: To you as well, Meilyr: big woman.
Jerren has drawn the duels for the tourney in chalk on a wall. Jerren: There are, in total, thirty contestants. Jerren: We shall host duels at the height of the sun, and battle until the end. Jerren: I would be proud if any of you became lord of this castle.
Jerren: There are no rules; I will only enforce the consequences of a duel. Jerren: It is up to you to force surrender from your opponent or save your own lives.
Jerren: When the victor has been determined, I shall leave, finally embarking on a journey through the Lands Between I have intended since time immemorial. Jerren: Do not be downhearted. I may return someday.
Corhyn, to Meilyr: Hmm. It looks like you and Freyja have been reserved to the end of the tourney. Corhyn: Well, should you survive, to the end, in any case.
Corhyn: Is this a plot by good Jerren?... Meilyr, shrugging: Doesn't matter.
Corhyn: Fair enough. Jerren: Creighton, Meilyr! Step up!
Meilyr, picking up his spear: Well, wish me luck. Corhyn: Of course. All the luck to you.
Creighton, who can be the Creighton of DS2 and DS3 if you so wish, I don't know, I'm terrible at names, and Meilyr square off. Of coure, Creighton looks like a mean person. Creighton: Hmph. Just because you are the hero of the festival, doesn't mean I'll back away easily. Creighton: I'm quite tough myself.
Creighton: En gar-
Meilyr slams the edge of his spear against Creighton's skull (the part that is not the blade, sorry, don't know spear anatomy well).
Creighton falls to the ground, head dizzy. Creighton: Ah- Creighton: Oh-
Creighton, picking himself up: You - uh - Creighton: think I haven't been - um - dropped a few times in my day -
Meilyr slams the spear on Creighton's skull again. Meilyr: Say uncle!
Creighton, raising a finger: N-No!
Meilyr continues attacking Creighton. Jerren, muttering: Oh, this may take days... Jerren: The waiting has to be hardest at the very end, hmm?
Night time. Creighton finally gives up; Jerren calls it.
The result of Freyja's battle; she has cut her opponent in half.
Jerren marks off names from the drawn tourney on the wall. Time passes.
Meilyr chases his opponents in the arena, with a spear of lightning.
Another flawless victory by Freyja.
Meilyr, as usual, is messing around, engaging in fisticuffs with his opponent.
Finally, the battle everyone has been waiting for: Meilyr and Freyja. Jerren: We are down to our last two fighters: Freyja and Meilyr! The Redmanes cheer.
Jerren: Do either of you fighters need a rest before we continue? Freyja: Nay. Meilyr: I'm as strong as I'll ever be.
Freyja: Wait. Before we start, Freyja: I want to address my foe.
Freyja, to Meilyr: Why do you refuse to kill? Freyja: It's clear you avoided shedding blood.
Meilyr: Well... Meilyr: Hmm... Meilyr: I didn't really need to. I just needed the other to surrender.
Freyja: You don't think it's an insult to condescend to your foes? Meilyr: Well - no. I mean - no, that's not what I intended at all.
Meilyr: The good castellan set the rules; every man here accepts victory and loss equally, regardless of how it is gained.
Freyja: You... Freyja: ...smell of milk. You don't have the iron to wage war. Freyja: You talk like an official from Leyndell.
Freyja: I cannot allow you to take over my lord's army. Freyja: Let's begin.
Meilyr prepares himself for battle. Meilyr: Very well.
Meilyr: Except... Meilyr: That makes no sense to me.
Meilyr: Why wage war when you don't need to?
Freyja: Wh- Freyja: What? To become the true king, of course!
Meilyr: I mean, if the kings agree to a game of hopscotch to anoint one among them to be king of kings, I find that perfectly acceptable.
Freyja: No! He - they who becomes king is the mightiest of them all! Freyja: For the king is mightiest!
Meilyr: I don't really see why might has to be proven with bloodshed. Freyja: THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE A NAKED CHICKEN-THIEF!
Freyja: Jerren. Please. Freyja: It's your friend's - my lord's - legacy. This cannot be how his successor is determined.
Jerren: Freyja. I mean you no disrespect. Jerren: This is exactly how he would have his legacy resolved. I say this because I knew him well.
Jerren: If you dislike this arrangement, win, thereby proving what my friend's, your lord's, legacy is.
Jerren: But if you think you can't - Freyja: I WILL WIN!
Freyja: No more words! Fight me! Goldmask: ...
Goldmask is moving his finger.
Meilyr sees this, reading and understanding his intent.
Meilyr: Hold on. What will you do with this castle? Freyja: Stop it. Let us fight.
Meilyr: I'm curious. If we are to fight to the death, then I want to know what I'm dying for. Freyja: Then die.
Meilyr: No. Freyja: Jerren. Jerren: There are no rules. You two decide them.
Freyja: I'm going to take this army to assault Leyndell. Meilyr: I've got bad news for you: I and my fellow Tarnished attempted so, and we failed.
Freyja: You weren't strong enough. Meilyr: Fair enough point. But did you live all these years in order to die again?
Meilyr: I assume you have been here long? Freyja: ...
Meilyr: A few hundred years? Meilyr: Thousands? Meilyr: Since the Shattering?
Meilyr: Have you been waiting all this time, just for your lord to die? Meilyr: And then to repeat his mistakes again?
Meilyr: Aren't there other things you can do?
Jerren: Like what? Jerren: Pray tell your thoughts, good Meilyr. For the sake of spirited discussion.
Meilyr, looking to Goldmask for guidance: Well, I, uh... Meilyr: What about this Rot, for a start?
Jerren: The rot is a curse from a god. We can do nothing about it.
Meilyr: That seems like an easy excuse. Meilyr: No clean water, no earth for wheat - what with the Erdtree weakened, life cannot prosper here.
Freyja tries to bash Meilyr with her shield; Meilyr narrowly dodges. Meilyr: Woah!
Freyja: How dare you insult Jerren. I will cut your tongue out.
Jerren: It's a fair reason, and a fair complaint, honestly. Jerren: I did nothing because I didn't know what to do. I would if I could.
Meilyr has his spear up, ready to fight; but Goldmask is furiously wagging his finger at him, as this is the most critical part of the conversation.
Meilyr: I would expend every effort I could to raise the army's strength - Meilyr: to purify the land, and to raise our numbers - Meilyr: before setting some bargain up with the Tarnished to challenge Leyndell's rule.
Meilyr: It would take time, but time is all we have. Jerren: Seems like a reasonable thing to do.
Freyja swings at Meilyr. Meilyr, wary of her, blocks with his Treespear.
Meilyr is no longer looking at Goldmask; he is now engaging Freyja earnestly in the fight.
Jerren strokes his beard.
Jerren: And would you negotiate with Morgott? Jerren: Say, if he wanted the Redmanes to return to Leyndell as vassals?
Meilyr is surprised Jerren is prompting him for an answer. He is finally answering as himself. Meilyr: Are you nuts?! That bastard wants to kill all the shardbearers! Meilyr: I am that!
Meilyr is thrusting forward. Meilyr: But - if he asked - I would!
Meilyr lands the spear into Freyja's abdomen. Meilyr: To fight another day!
Freyja has knocked the spear to the side with her shield, so it only grazes her side. Meilyr's spear has drawn blood.
Freyja's arms are down. Freyja: I give up. You win.
Freyja drops her sword and spear to the ground. Meilyr: W-what? Meilyr: Pick up your weapons, and let's fight fairly.
Freyja: You're right. I don't know why I'm fighting. Freyja: I don't care about any of this. Freyja: There was no point in my being here.
Freyja: I just want to fight by my lord again. Freyja: You win.
Meilyr, emotional: ... Jerren: That does it then. Meilyr is the victor!
Jerren runs to Meilyr, raising his arm up. Jerren: This, men, is the one who shall rule Castle Redmane from now on! The Redmanes begin cheering. Meilyr is as distraught as when he defeated Radahn.
The Redmanes: Congratulations! Freyja is leaving. Meilyr: Wait - Freyja -
Goldmask and Corhyn approach Meilyr, but Meilyr shoves everyone aside. Meilyr: Freyja!
Freyja: Please don't convince me to stay. Freyja: You're right. I was denying myself a truth I knew long ago.
Freyja: The only thing I was good for was fighting with the Battlefield's Lion. Freyja: His was the only gold I acknowledged.
Meilyr: That's not - no, Freyja.
Meilyr: ...Freyja. Meilyr: I want to see him too.
Meilyr: I don't know...why things are as they are.
Freyja is overwhelmed with emotion; she did not realize this chicken-thief actually shared in her feelings.
Freyja, leaving: Then be a good castellan. Freyja: Keep the castle well, for when he returns.
Freyja: Then we'll meet again. You, I, and our king.
Meilyr looks to Freyja, disconsolate. The Redmane soldiers and Corhyn gather around.
Everyone furiously pats Meilyr on the back. Corhyn: Leader of the Redmanes! What an ascent, from your humble origins, eh?
Meilyr scratches his temple. Meilyr: Right... He sees Goldmask in the corner of his eye.
Goldmask is writing to him. Goldmask: "Declare me your advisor, immediately." Goldmask: "Tell all I speak through Corhyn."
Meilyr, blinking to Goldmask: "What about Jerren?"
Goldmask: "He has already left. Our power is absolute."
Meilyr is overwhelmed. He rushes to Goldmask.
He has his hand extended for a handshake.
He clasps Goldmask's hand.
It is now night-time, at Redmane Castle. I can't tell you how long the tourney went; a day and a half? The moon looms high.
The high-ranking Redmane knights gather with Meilyr, Goldmask and Corhyn in some kind of war room. They have a map of the Lands Between with them. Of course, Goldmask is leading Meilyr here. Meilyr: Gentlemen, I hate fellows who wind on and on. Let us be brief and blunt. Meilyr: I want to know what the state of the castle, the state of the army, and the state of Caelid. Meilyr: Then, let us talk quickly on our relationship with the remaining Lands Between.
Knight: The castle shall be the best report. After millennia it still stands tall and firm, being made mostly of rock. Knight: The timber must be renewed, but none of that is foundational.
(Another) Knight: The last we did a roll call, there were about a thousand soldiers attached to the castle. Meilyr: That many?
Corhyn: When was the last time a roll call was performed? Knight: A year ago, mayhaps. We don't do it frequently.
Knight: The soldiers are largely put to work on fending the Rot and preparing for the festival. Knight: Since both tasks were neverending, it didn't really matter if we had one thousand or one hundred.
Corhyn: "What is the Rot?" Knight: No one knows, after all this time.
Knight: It is something foul in the air and in the water, and yet it doesn't infect all equally. Knight: As you can see, before you.
Corhyn: "So then, why spend energy fending it?" Knight: Because the Rot transforms a few of those it infects. Hence the Dogs and Crows.
Knight: There's also a prevailing sense the fungi and moss from the Rot intensify the infection, but no one has tested it. Corhyn: Hmm.
Meilyr: Are all the Redmanes volunteers? (Another) Knight: My lord, I sense what you mean by this, and I answer, Yes and no.
Knight: Yes, the soldiers in the castle's employ are raw to war. Knight: No, they are not strangers to warfare, generally.
Knight: Most are technicians and squires, who had heard of the General in a prior life. Knight: Those who are tried-and-true warriors leave. They're not interested in housework.
Meilyr: You knights? Knight: We consider ourselves tried-and-true warriors and involved with housework.
Knight: You can't campaign with this material, but they're disciplined enough that in a few months they could. Knight: And the rest, once the banners of Redmane unfurl, will return, with their ferocity.
Meilyr: As for Caelid. (Another) Knight: That's a long story.
Knight: I will have to tell you of Caelid's history, before the Shattering.
An aerial view of Caelid, before The Shattering. Obviously, this is not shown in the game and I'm not an artist, so one would have to imagine it. Since people have noted it could take from "caeli" in Latin meaning "sky / heavens" or "cae" in Welsh meaning "field", so my interpretation is that it's a beautiful place, on par with ... all the other locations in the game, come to think of it. (Coming from the other Souls games, I'm surprised so many locations in "Elden Ring" don't look like corpse junk heaps.) This panel would show Redmane Castle overlooking the sea; instead of a blood-red sky, it would be a sky of pure blue; instead of a dark murky ocean, it would be a radiant blue ocean; the Wailing Dunes would be a sunlit beach, and the castle wouldn't be so crusty after millennia of decay. Knight: Caelid, before Malenia's Aeonia, was a beautiful and orderly land, comparable only to Leyndell.
An aerial view of the Swamp of Aeonia, which wouldn't be called the Swamp of Aeonia. Beside it is the town of Sellia, which wouldn't be a tree-broken ruins as it is in-game, but a town of beautiful architecture that reminds one of Raya Lucaria, although Raya Lucaria has grown vertically while Sellia would have more land to expand broadly. I'm not sure what would be the daily goings-on in Sellia, but let's assume it would be the same as in Lucaria: scholars are teaching glintstone sorcery to students by the banks of the lake. Knight: To the lake's west was the town of Sellia, where the General himself learned how to master the stars. Knight: Throughout the Lands Between, visitors would take the road the General had built to learn from scholars rivaling those of Raya Lucaria's.
A view of the cliff above Sellia, in the Dragonbarrow. One can see dragons soaring through the sky, with Greyoll somewhere there, not so old and definitely not rotting, with her brood. In the background one can see the Divine Tower of Caelid. Knight: To the lake's north was the Dragonbarrow, where Marika deigned to permit the few submitting dragons to breed. Knight: There the blood of the once-noble dragons degenerated, but even their descendants were fierce, and the General had not a few dragon-riders in his hey-day.
A view of the Bestial Sanctum. It doesn't look all that different from how it looks now; only, it looks just ... better. Knight: Beyond the Dragonbarrow and past the Farum Greatbridge is the Bestial Sanctum, with a priest of one. Knight: But I, unfortunately, know little of it.
Fort Gael; again, in comparison to the current time, it looks nice, overlooking the same. Knight: Lastly, there are a number of forts dotted across Caelid. In the southwest edge of Caelid is Fort Gael, and overlooking the Wailing Dunes is Fort Faroth. Knight: Both forts were built to protect Caelid's natural strength: its access to the sea. Knight: In fact, the General's assault on Leyndell began with a naval attack.
Knight: To end this lesson: we are in contact with none of these regions, excepting Fort Gael. Knight: We have only been able to staff the fortifications.
Corhyn: "So Caelid is, in essence, a country without a border." Knight: Aye.
Corhyn: "But, were we to reclaim this country, we would be a formidable force in the Lands Between." Knight: Aye.
Corhyn: "Then, the last topic." (Another) Knight: This is simple.
Knight: Leyndell unconditionally loathes us. But we were powerless, a flag without an army. Knight: Now, with the General dead, that may change.
Corhyn: "Will Leyndell send an emissary?" Knight: I doubt it. We really have no influence on the lands.
Corhyn: "Were we to coordinate, would they send an army?" Knight: Forgive me, sir, but my thoughts would be but groundless speculations.
Meilyr: Continue. Knight: Raya Lucaria is a neutral party, whose only objective is to further their studies in glintstone. Knight: However, because of their knowledge, they are petitioned often by Leyndell. In a true conflict, they would favor the latter.
Knight: Those are all the relevant political groups in the Lands Between. Corhyn: "Not quite."
Corhyn: "What about Ranni?"
Knight: Lunar Princess Ranni? She's still alive? Corhyn: "Going by the other two shardbearers, yes."
Corhyn: "Ranni and Rykard are the immediate family of the Battlefield's Lion." Corhyn: "If you are able to elucidate their relations, please do so."
Knight: Rykard is somewhere on Volcano Manor... Knight: His Recusants will in whiles come and take knights to feed to the Serpent.
Knight: I would describe our relationship as hostile. Corhyn: "Has there been negotiations?"
Knight: Did you hear what I said? Corhyn: "I see no issue in momentarily swallowing honor if it is expedient."
Knight: One, we don't know the Volcano Manor's numbers, Knight: and, in fact, I've heard that house is in decay.
Knight: Two, the serpent wants to devour the Erdtree, Knight: the very symbol of power that crowns kings in this land!
Goldmask, thinking: Hmm. Despite their devotion to the Battlefield's Lion, they still think highly of the Erdtree and its institutions.
Goldmask, to Meilyr: "Let's table this for now." Goldmask: "Given the response, Volcano Manor is not only a probable but even a powerful ally."
Corhyn: "Ranni?" Knight: Ranni, I can't say. I didn't even know she was alive.
Knight: However, as the heir presumptive of the Carians, Ranni would be a powerful ally. Knight: As you have mentioned, she is the dear sister of our lord.
Corhyn: "Is Ranni the heir because of Radahn and Rykard's defections?" Knight: Indeed. She is also seen as inheriting the "essence" of Rennala and Radagon.
Goldmask, to Meilyr: "For those reasons alone Ranni cannot be trusted." Goldmask: "A woman given so much power must have ambitions."
Corhyn: "How about the Fire Monks?" Knight: Too scattered, and devoted only to their religious duties.
Corhyn: "Stormveil?" Knight: That castle changes hands every few decades or so. I would watch to see how the Tarnished hold it.
Corhyn: "What about Mohgwyn?" Knight: ...It's a possibility.
Knight: But Mohgwyn, beyond appearing in the festival, is extremely secretive. Knight: Yet their infrequent assassinations can be overlooked by the rank-and-file, I suppose.
Meilyr: Right. That ends the discussion. Meilyr: Here are my conclusions:
Meilyr: I will make a tour around Caelid and check the condition of the lands, Meilyr: and from there deliberate on what work is remaining.
Meilyr: You all shall remain in Redmane Castle, with Corhyn and the stick - I mean, the venerable Goldmask. Meilyr: Fend off the Rot as you have done, while helping my advisors to decipher its mysteries.
Meilyr: You are all dismissed. Meilyr: We will remain to discuss matters privately. The knights bow and leave.
Meilyr: ... Corhyn: Not bad, for your first meeting.
Meilyr: Aye. Meilyr gives a wink and a thumbs-up to Goldmask.
Corhyn: Will you really be going at it alone? You could take a few knights with you. Meilyr: If I see anything, I'll just book it. I don't intend to get into any scraps.
Meilyr: Besides, figuring out the Rot is more important than going on a tour. Corhyn: You won't need the expertise of a guide?
Meilyr: Well... I'm useless! The lord of an army is the most useless person in it! Meilyr: It's better if I put myself to the little use I can.
Voice: Meilyr. Meilyr. Meilyr: What? What is it? Corhyn: ?
Voice: Meilyr. Meilyr: You're right in front of me! Why call out for me?! Corhyn: I didn't say anything!
Voice: Meilyr... Meilyr: Spirit!! Leave me be! Meilyr: I just became a lord!!
Goldmask: "Meilyr, I can't hear what you hear, but it's likely a fellow Tarnished in the Roundtable Hold." Goldmask: "The Hold is a convocation of Tarnished, meant to unite them in their cause to rectify the Shattering."
Goldmask: "Only Tarnished with ribbons of grace are led to the Roundtable Hold. It's clear you have grace, considering you have a Great Rune." Goldmask: "Or the Rune itself is a conduit. I can't say."
Goldmask: "Retire to a quiet place, and answer the call." Goldmask: "I will arrange the provisions you'll need on Worth."
Meilyr: Corhyn. Goldmask. It's been a very long day for me, and so I shall retire to my quarters.
Corhyn: Very well. Corhyn bows. Meilyr leaves.
Meilyr in his quarters; I assume this would be Radahn's private quarters, which is not in-game, so imagine it however you want. It can be sumptuous as befits a prince as Radahn, or it can be quite humble as would be consistent with Radahn's nature as a God of War and therefore Discipline. Meilyr is meditating on the floor of the room. Meilyr, thinking: Voice? Hello? Who is this?
Meilyr is in the Roundtable Hold. Meilyr: Voice?
A foot is manifested from the gold of the Roundtable Hold.
Gareth manifests at the opposite end of the Roundtable.
Meilyr: Gareth? Gareth: Aye. How long have you had access to this place?
Meilyr: ...Since Altus, I believe. Gareth: Ah. If I had known, I would have communicated with you more often. Gareth: I surmised you would at least be recently entered into the Hold, what with the Great Rune.
Gareth: Are you busy? I am at the north of Caelid, and I ... have a peculiar business ahead of me. Meilyr: What is it?
Gareth: I am trying to get past the dragons, to the Bestial Sanctum in the east.
Gareth: Stalwart, my steed, is ponderous, and may be food for the dragons. Gareth: And I...well...D didn't tell me about any dragons.
Meilyr: D? That brooding man? Gareth: Aye. He bid me deliver some of these ... roots, to a friend of his.
Gareth: I called out to him, but I don't know if he has access to the Hold. Gareth: And I don't want to bother Rhys, and, um...this seemed important to D, so I don't want myself nor my ox to die.
Gareth: Since you beat that man-lion-general, can you send me some guides? Gareth: If not, I'll piece it all together.
Meilyr: I'll do you one better: I'll join you. Gareth: Oh no no no no, you're a busy man, with all your ... actually, I don't know what it is you do.
Meilyr: I was just made lord of these lands, so I want to tour the lands I'm lording. Meilyr: This is the perfect opportunity for me.
Meilyr: Otherwise I'd get bored hoofing it alone. Gareth: Well, alright. Suit yourself.
Gareth: I'm waiting past the chasm, and by the giant tower. Gareth: The dog-crow things haven't bothered me here.
Meilyr: I'll see you in half a day's journey. Gareth: Alright. Thank you, Meilyr.
Meilyr, on Worth, waves goodbye to Goldmask, Corhyn, and some Redmane Knights.
Redmane Knights open the gates to the castle, letting Meilyr leave.
Meilyr crosses the "Impassable" Greatbridge, with a view of the Wailing Dunes in the background, the same view Gareth had earlier before the battle began.
Meilyr moves upward, passing the fortifications the Redmanes keep to ward off the Rot.
He passes by the crossroads between Redmane Castle, Sellia, and the Dragonbarrow.
Meilyr winds through Caelem Ruins.
Meilyr approaches the chasm before the Dragonbarrow.
Worth leaps over the chasm.
The Divine Tower of Caelid is in the distance.
Meilyr meets up with Gareth. Gareth: Meilyr.
Gareth: While waiting, I noticed the dragons do sleep at night.
Meilyr: Well, everything sleeps. Gareth: Honestly, I thought they were creatures of myth, so they...wouldn't.
Gareth: I apologize for calling you over. I'll make a charge for it at twilight. Meilyr: It's fine. We'll go together.
Gareth: Do you see those dogs in the distance? For whatever reason, they shy at the sight of that tower. Gareth is pointing to the Giant Dogs, who are leery of the Divine Tower.
Gareth: Who built that giant thing? Meilyr: Marika? Dunno.
Meilyr: Mind if I head up there? Meilyr is pointing to the west, where the Isolated Merchant's Shack is.
Gareth: To where those dogs are?... Gareth: Alright.
Meilyr: I'm here, so I might as well look around. Meilyr: Thank you Gareth. Gareth: No need.
The Tarnished ascend the hill, where the Giant Dogs roam.
The dogs, upon seeing them, growl at them.
Instead of the meek Tarnished they were before, Gareth and Meilyr wave their shield and spear at the Dogs, adorned in mighty armor.
The dogs, in sight of their weapons, are wary.
One dog leaps from the pack.
Gareth pushes the dog back, stopping its charge.
Meilyr thrusts his Treespear into one of the Dog's eyes. It howls.
Gareth pushes the dog into its pack.
The other dogs watch the shardbearers warily.
They retreat, with the defeated dog.
The Tarnished return to their steeds.
The Isolated Merchant's Shack grows in view. The light of a fire can be seen. Gareth: There's a fire.
Meilyr peeks inside.
No one is inside; however, there is the aforementioned fire, and the merchant's various wares. Meilyr: No one.
Gareth: Who wants to live here?... Meilyr: There are hobos everywhere. I got my armor from one.
Gareth notices the dogs do not approach the shack.
Gareth picks up one of the logs in the fire.
He waves it in front of a dog, who shies away from it. Gareth: Ah. It's the same type of fire as we used in Mistwood.
Gareth: So what now? Meilyr: I'd rather wait awhile. Everyone shall know of my reign.
They sit. Gareth: Mmm. The sun is setting. Meilyr: If they're not here soon, then we'll depart.
Meilyr: Do you need water? Gareth: Thank you. A crimson glow appears behind Meilyr.
Out of the crimson glow, Elemer, resurrected, appears behind Meilyr and Gareth. Gareth: Might as well take as many rests as we can.