A box of silk

[Tanman]

*Eghaas unfurls a poster on to various Billboards in Mistone and on it he pens*

One box of spider silk. Negotiable on Price.
Send a message to Eghaas Treebringer.

He signs it distinctively:

*Eghaas Treebringer*

[Tanman]

*Eghaas walks by and readjusts his poster*

[Pseudonym]

*Arkolio wanders into the hall (still slightly tipsy from the night before) peruses the scattered notices until he spies Eghaas' advertisement. Checking to see if anyone is paying much attention, he 'quills' the following ...*

Fellow citizens of Mistone,

I was fortunate enough to be present at Eghaas' gathering of this silk and indulge me but a moment of your valuable time to relay a quick tale about the most extraordinary circumstances of it's collection.

By any hero's reckoning the spider was no ordinary arachnid .. it was the Queen .. no .. the emperor .. nay .. the living avatar of foul Baraeon Ca'Duz Himself.

Was Eghaas daunted? Perhaps a little for though most favoured of Aeridin and Lucinda is he, still he remains a humble God-fearin' man .. err,  elf. A lesser man .. err, elf would have quailed and run from the fearsome terror that was the mountain high beast. Eyewitnesses report that Kobal, Varka and Fenrir were seen fleeing at speed from impending certain death, pants dripping with the urinic manifestation of their fear.

Not Eghaas.

He remembered the people who frequent this hall, afixed their silk-hungry visages in his mind, summoned his courage and entered the fray. The tale of the battle would fill the length of this parchment and many more. Suffice to say, the ground shook, the mountains trembled, the oceans churned .. the Gods themselves shielded their eyes from the melee so that They might maintain some small shred of self-dignity about their own finite powers when confronted with this evidence of Eghaas' omnipotence.

I would go on .. but I will not .. for Eghaas, as I said is a humble man and were I to paint an adequate picture-tale of his deeds, he would be embarassed and immodestly refute my words.

Regardless, remember this tale when you bid upon this box of silk, extracted from the deific glands of Baraeon Ca'Duz Himself.

*Arkolio glances around again to make sure no-one is watching*

I swear these words to be true, however if you are to ask me in person about these events I shall pretend ignorance to safeguard the humility of my dear friend.

Storold Doesscha, Protector of the Weave

[Pibemanden]

*Storold walks by the poster and spots the reply quickly adding a note below*
This has been posted by someone trying to make a fake signature I would like have the help of the public to identify the handwriting and thereby capture the villan himself. If he is caught he should be sent to Vehl for a fair trial for this crime.

*Signed*Storold Doesscha, Protector of the Weave

[Pseudonym]

*it is written in Arkolio's best (though admittedly alcohol-affected) effort at duplicating Sallaron's handwriting*

[Varka]

*After months away Varka arrives on Mistone by the docks in Heampstead with two lion bags of giant heads, covered in what seems dry blood. Varka tells the group farewell among them Gravas, Godim, Hardragh, Boon, Kobal and more. As he walks up the docks Varka hears the tale and that Storold is behind all this. Varka simply bursts out into a laugh and begins to sell his catch of giant heads*