As you sit in the hot, wet dark, you and your fellows think back on what you know about the man you seek. Sir Bruhs was once a ward of king Kaius III of Karnath, and orphan boy of low birth raised at court. He rose in stature to become Kaius’ ironclad right hand. The stories say he was given command of a Karrnathi Fleshloom to the south during the war, tasked with building a force capable of decimating Cyre. He singlehandedly slaughtered his men and fled. Kaius has hunted him ever since, but even the long arm of Karrnath cannot cross oceans. The Black Knight has holed up in a Syrkarn stronghold, hidden away in the shadows of the coastal fjords, but the legends of him persist. That he keeps a host of black dragons nested atop his craggy fortress. That he roams the plains with marauding bands of Dwarven reavers, sweeping down on hapless hamlets and burning the townsfolk alive. That he guards an underwater prison filled with unspeakable horrors.
Men of Legend are not easily forgotten, and seldom easily found. Sir Bruhs is no exception. Kaius said little when he sent you on your way. What you know of the man is largely common knowledge, though you suspect the king’s reasons for hiring you go beyond simple revenge. There is great power building in Sarlona, he told you, hunched against the cold on his iron throne as the candles atop its frame guttered in the wind. Great power than means to sweep the worlds of living and dead alike with its horror and leave them…stilled. If you find Sir Bruhs, tell him the Wheel is about to turn. Tell him it must turn. Now go, and face the sea.
You sit in the hot, wet dark, thinking on those words.