Part 28: The Return of Locklear, Part 2
Update 28: The Return of Locklear, Part 2
Welcome to Raglam, it's got two unique houses, a tavern and a crossbow trader that we'll want to take a poke at. Let's hit up the houses first.
BaK posted:
Locklear hesitated before the door.
"Kroldech," he snarled, rubbing his finger across three red marks above the door frame.
"What does that mean?" asked James.
"Captain Kroldech. He is a moredhel leader who has a reputation for setting up residence in empty dwellings."
"What are the three red marks over the door?"
"Those are equal in number to the original inhabitants he murdered to ensure the emptiness of the structure. The rumors of his savagery have spread as far south as Krondor."
Fearing an exchange would draw unwanted attention from other moredhel nearby, and realizing the futility of a confrontation they left.
The commander in the book is still Kroldech, but in the book his only reputation is for being "not fit to command fleas on a dog." No mention of any particular cruelty and in fact he's portrayed as kind of a wimp and coward.
Next to Kroldech's house...
BaK posted:
A strange old elf answered the door.
He glared at Patrus suspiciously with upraised eyebrows, "Yes!? Did Eron the Minstrel send you to sing for me?"
[YES]
"Well, come in then!" he said, ushering them all inside. "I am very busy but I work much better with music playing. Helps me think!"
"And what manner of work do you do?" asked Patrus.
The moredhel scowled. "You here to sing or ask questions? There's a lute over in the corner -- use it."
As Patrus picked up the lute and began to play, he was amazed by the huge assortment of gears, pulleys, springs and other equipment that were scattered around the house. The moredhel was obviously some sort of engineer.
"What is all this stuff?" whispered Locklear.
"I cannot be sure but I recall stories of a moredhel weapon maker whose ideas and plans were sometimes too inspired, even for Delekhan. He was known to be a bit of a musician, though not a good one, and he used to demand musicians play for him while he worked. Only they couldn't play better than he or --"
"STOP THAT RACKET! This isn't music you play! I could make better music dropping that instrument down a flight of stairs! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Not wanting to upset him any further they agreed to leave. As they stepped out the door, Patrus whispered, "I tried not to play my best, but playing poorly can sometimes be as difficult as playing well..."
If you want to get some info out of the engineer, you need to play badly(i.e. have a terrible Barding skill). Now, there's no way to intentionally use your skills poorly, but perhaps there's a way we can lower them? Let's think it over at the tavern.
BaK posted:
James approached the moredhel tavern.
"So you really think we can just walk right in without attracting unwanted attention?" asked Patrus.
"It's a trick I learned many years ago, everyone will gravitate toward the simplest solution to any dilemma," he whispered, reaching for the door.
Patrus wasn't convinced. "This is highly irregular."
"Look at it this way," James continued. "We either have a legitimate reason to be here or we are completely insane and are walking right into the middle of enemy territory. That doesn't make a lick of sense, so everyone inside will assume the first is true. Now try to act like you belong here..."
Conversation within the room halted briefly as James pushed his way inside the room, returning a nod from a rough looking pair of mercenaries who otherwise seemed engaged in a dispute over a lost bet.
Some of the locals here also have some unique convos.
BaK posted:
James approached a moredhel.
He eyed them suspiciously, then shrugged. Though he spoke to them in the Kingdom tongue his speech was broken and somewhat slurred.
"You been hired by Narab's brother? What's his name again...Nago?" asked the moredhel.
James nodded his head. "Yes, we are...mercenaries...from Queg, just arrived. What news have you of the thrust South?"
The moredhel lowered his head, then whispered, "They say Captain Kroldech has got final orders for the move against Northwarden. Beyond that, I ain't got the faintest what's going on."
Resigning himself to the fact that the moredhel had nothing more of value to tell them, James remained for a short while to listen, not wanting to attract undue attention to themselves. At last, he excused himself from the table.
...
The moredhel approached them.
Apparently satisfied with their story about being mercenaries from Queg, the moredhel told them he was a trader who made frequent trips to several of the towns located near the border between the Kingdom and the Northlands, explaining his command of their language.
"What can you tell of the push south?" asked James.
"Word has it that Captain Kroldech received his final orders for the move against Northwarden. Futile. With our numbers, we have no hope of surviving the march to it and then breaching the walls. This Kingdom baron will crush us utterly unless the engineer has come up with something."
Trying not to be too interested, James prodded the moredhel further. "Segersen?"
The moredhel stared at them strangely. "I had heard he was killed in a Quegian battle near Palanque."
"I wouldn't know," James recovered casually. "I've not been on foot for eight years or more. I've been working in a press gang."
"Mmm," the moredhel replied. "Well, it's all a moot point at the moment anyway. Kroldech has locked himself into his commandeered command post to work on the battle plans for a goblin offensive and the engineer just sits in his house drawing up design. Hopefully the Kingdom won't elect to retaliate after this madness is over with."
They thanked him for the information he was able to provide and casually strolled back to a spot near the tavern door.
Now, time for what we're really here for.
Getting the party absolutely, utterly and completely shitfaced drunk on Quegan Brandy.
All three of them are boozed to fuck just to make sure the game doesn't use the highest Barding skill in the party or something like that and one of the others turns out to accidentally be too competent.
BaK posted:
A strange old elf answered the door.
He glared at Patrus suspiciously with upraised eyebrows, "Yes!? Did Eron the Minstrel send you to sing for me?"
[YES]
"Well, come in then!" he said, ushering them all inside. "I am very busy but I work much better with music playing. Helps me think!"
"And what manner of work do you do?" asked Patrus.
The moredhel scowled. "You here to sing or ask questions? There's a lute over in the corner -- use it."
Patrus played poorly.
Considering his condition, this was a pretty easy task. Fortunately, this is exactly what the old moredhel wanted to hear. He grumbled something about being able to "play better," and this seemed to make him happy; soon he was telling them all about his work.
"I had been working on a catapult for Captain Kroldech, but the dragon lover refused to pay me when I was finished with it. So I fixed him right up...removed a critical gear and now he can't get it to work at all."
The moredhel laughed, then continued with a sly smile. "I finally had it moved to a spot within range of his house, and loaded it up with a magical poison. One of these days I'm going to retrieve that gear and you can say goodbye to Captain Kroldech then, I can assure you."
"Where did you hide this gear?" inquired James innocently.
"Hid it in a box by the bridge. Now shut up and let me concentrate."
Despite the poor quality of the music being played, it seemed to have a soothing effect on the old moredhel, because before long they heard a soft clunk, and looking up they realized it was the sound of his head dropping onto the wooden table.
Moving quietly so as not to disturb him, they left.
I don't actually think anything prevents you from otherwise finding the gear, and the chest it's in is right out in the poen, but we may as well make some friends while we're here.
Oh and let's have a look at that archery store before we set out, shall we?
Aside from this store, there are only two Bessy Maulers in the game, one on an enemy and one in a chest somewhere.
BaK posted:
The crossbow type had become legendary since the end of the Riftwar. Replicated from a model discovered in the Northlands, the draw was impossible to set barehanded and required a lever called a goatsfoot be used to span its deadly draw. Fortunately, the crossbow had the device attached.
It's canonically used by the humans living in Armengar until Darkness At Sethanon, where it's a model of crossbow so huge that it needs to be mounted on a stand to be usable at all. No one's able to just haul it up to their shoulder and fire it, and it's largely intended for dropping huge creatures like wyverns and giants, since it would be absurd overkill if used against even an armoured human or humanoid.
It has the highest damage modifier of any crossbow in the game, almost twice the modifier of the Tsurani Heavy Crossbow(+40, compared to the Mauler's +75), but also the worst accuracy modifier in the game. If you've picked up all the lessons you can, though, and maybe stockpiled a bit of Truesight Tea, it can make James and Locklear very scary at range, which can sometimes save the day if they can't otherwise reach a mage or a fleeing enemy that you want to loot.
Since I'm already stocked up well on consumables and won't get a chance to buy more expensive stuff like blesses, James and Locklear both get Bessy Maulers just for the niche situations where I end up needing them.
A short walk out the far end of Raglam and the party encounters the last battle of the region(though not the last of the chapter.).
It just isn't even worth mentioning. These dickheads get run over in seconds.
Also, in case anyone was wondering, attempting to pass that bridge in the other direction also gets us stopped by Mr. No Fun Allowed here.
BaK posted:
In ways the part resembled the gears used in crossbows, but where he associated the moving parts of hand-held weapons with precision, the catapult's axle gear was a monstrosity, its tempered iron spokes radiating out from a flat circular plate thicker than ten swords stacked one atop another.
From the description it feels like the gear should've had a sprite the size of that fucking bag of grain we liberated back in Chapter 2.
Time to go play with siege weapons.
BaK posted:
Locklear took a deep breath.
Holding the catapult part they had found in the box, and using some makeshift tools he kneeled before the machine and set to work...
It took nearly two hours to install the part, and though Locklear wasn't positive the machine would work at all, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
"I'm not an engineer, but I think that should work," he said, motioning to the others to join him. Together, they stood before the strange wooden creature, it's one arm poised, ready to fling its special cargo into the sleepy moredhel town of Raglam.
Locklear took a deep breath. "Shall we give it a try?" he asked.
[YES]
Patrus backed away from the catapult.
Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, Locklear bent down to grab the wooden handle that would bring the monster to life...
We're rewarded with a loud THWONG sound but nothing else obviously happens. Maybe we should go check on Kroldech.
BaK posted:
The door was ajar.
James tried to enter the small house, but something seemed to be blocking the door. He pushed a little harder and reluctantly the door swung open a little further. Peering into the darkened room they could make out the form of a male moredhel on the floor. Kroldech's body was curled into a fetal position and he appeared to be clutching at his throat.
"The engineer knew his business quite well," he said. "That catapult load seems to have been very effective. Search the room, quickly."
After several minutes of intense examination Locklear called out, "I think I've found something."
Behind a wooden writing desk in the corner was a Sword of Lims-Kragma, a small pouch with 150 gold coins, and a set of company orders. This would put a kink in the moredhel attack plans!
In the book, a huge boulder just smashes through the roof and kills everyone inside except for Kroldech, whom they find cowering under a desk. Locklear snaps him out of it(James starts a fire and Locklear points at the fire and goes "you gotta escape, chief! we need your great leaderly wisdom!") and escorts him out, after which James and Patrus root through the Moredhel battle plans, which Patrus memorizes with magic. They then gather them all up and deliver them to Kroldech outside, since they don't want the Moredhel drawing up new plans that they then don't know about.
Also while Locklear and James are taking the credit for rescuing Kroldech, Patrus steals a bunch of horses for them to ride south on.
Patrus rules.
The Sword of Lims-Kragma we got, which is now James', is also the best sword in the game you're expected to get. It's about 30% up on the Greatsword in terms of base damage, same accuracy and is a human-affinity sword rather than an elf-affinity sword. I think that with a tier 3 bless, the Greatsword still comes out as slightly more accurate in James and Locklear's hands, but the bless doesn't provide any damage boost. There are also only three of these in the game, they can never be purchased and this is the first one that can be acquired.
BaK posted:
A shiver ran down James's spine. Though the weight and play of the sword were as he expected, there was a darkness about the blade that unsettled him. No matter how he turned it, light refused to reflect off its highly polished surface.
James is now an agent of Lims-Kragma. Sweet.
Now let's get the hell outta this frozen dump before someone realizes we just poisoned their commander and stole his stuff.
In the book, returning through the goblins requires James to also give up his money to bribe them, which greatly amuses both Locklear and Patrus. Thankfully in the game they've gotten all the bribes they need already.
[PLANS]
We got the plans for you, Martin. Too bad you didn't come with us though, we had quite a bit of fun.
Won't be much time for that very soon. My gut instinct tells me they'll begin the assault in the next few days. Before we go back to the castle, there's something I would like you three to check out for me. I got this mysterious note from someone that said a company of moredhel illusionists have slipped behind Northwarden. I thought Patrus would know how best to deal with them...
Just like those pointy eared lily munchers to go stealin' my ideas! Baron Gabot had me workin' on somethin' like that but I never could get the kinks out... I knew my tongue was itchin' for some reason... But if we run across them, I got sumthin' that'll fix their hindquarters in a bat's fart! Whoever wrote the note doesn't specify where they are supposed to be located, so if you three would just take a swing southwest and see what you can find. Once you're done, come back and we'll all head to the castle together.And here's the last objective of the chapter: go beat up a bunch of wizards. I'm sure it'll be a cinch.
Their location is, as far as I know, never hinted at, but if you explore around the woods southwest of Dencamp, near the chapter border, earlier than this, you might get an odd message on approaching a house in the woods.
BaK posted:
Locklear felt a stinging poke.
"Ouch!" he cried out, looking for the insect responsible for his discomfort. Finding none, he turned to a puzzled Patrus to explain his outburst. But before the words could come out of his mouth, Patrus felt a bite...
"What is this place?" cried the magician, feeling still another sting.
"I don't know," said James. "But I suggest we leave here -- hmmph -- at once."
Which isn't just descriptive but actually eats 5 stamina/health off everyone in the party every time it happens. If you come here, now, though...
BaK posted:
Patrus stopped.
James took a few more steps before he realized the magician wasn't with him and turned to find him staring off into the bushes with a comical, questioning look.
"Somethin' ain't right about things here..." Patrus said, turning in a slow circle. "Ain't what they appears to be at all. An if'n a thing ain't what it looks like, that means it's wearin' some kind o' mask."
"What are you babbling on about?" Locklear asked.
"The invisible magicians, you donkey!" Patrus shot back. Almost imperceptibly, his mouth began to move. Silently forming words long forgotten, his lips began to move faster, in sync with a secret accelerating rhythm only he could know. Then he gave voice to the words and they tumbled from his throat, louder and louder until he was nearly shouting.
James saw a strange shimmering in the air. He turned to look and before his amazed eyes saw a huddled pack of moredhel spellcasters!
This thrusts you straight into a battle that you may not be prepared for and which can absolutely own you. For anyone playing along or just considering playing, you definitely want to save before this fight because it's one of the ones that can go the south most easily in the entire game.
Because, you know, every single enemy is a fucking wizard.
Three of them know Grief of 1000 Nights, which is the real scary part, which means that a bad roll on their AI tables instantly kills you. One of them is a dud who only knows Gift of Sung and Skin of the Dragon, neither of which I've ever seen AI casters bust out even if they're on their spell lists.
So what do these fine piss-coloured fellas start out lobbing at us?
Predictably they start out by dropping a Grief on Patrus, son of a bitch. I then rush James forward to interrupt three of them from casting anything, which is just enough movement that he can't also attack the one immediately ahead. Still, limiting the amount of wizardly bullshit being shat out is priority number one.
Patrus eats a Mind Melt and a Skyfire but stays on his feet.
Patrus gets hit by an Unfortunate Flux and then stabbed by one of the enemy mages, dropping him, while James eats a Skyfire. At this point it's roughly even as I've flattened two mages and they've flattened one of us, so both teams are down by 1/3rd of their power.
It's looking like an easy win when all of a sudden the last surviving Moredhel remembers he knows Grief and sticks Locklear with it. Now it's completely down to James to save the day.
Which he does by plugging the last mage with his new Bessy Mauler hard enough to take off one of his arms at the shoulder.
Then there's the cleanup, six delicious loot-filled corpses for James to rifle through while Locklear pours Patrus full of Restoratives. Trying to recover from the Near-Death condition, even with healing herbs, without a temple and without restoratives, would literally take 50+ rest periods. So instead I just feed him drugs and remind myself to stock up on more at the Grumbling Magician afterwards. Now, are these guys carrying anything nice?
Mostly nothing of note, but they do have a rare item, an Infinity Pool.
BaK posted:
A pervasive feeling of malice radiated from the pendant. Within its depths bloody points of light pulsed, swarming from one side of the glass to the other as anything brushed against its featureless surface.
They're super rare, only two are findable in the game outside of shops, and when used they allow the caster to cast a damaging spell with +50% damage, for when you really need a fight to be over right now with no bullshit. While stopping by Dencamp to pick up some fresh Restoratives, I also buy another rare item for Patrus.
BaK posted:
Slightly larger than the balled fist of a grown man, the hunk of reddish chalcedony was free of marks except for the obvious letter inscribed on its smooth face. In legend such stones were said to possess the power to summon a rusalki lover, though Owyn gave little credence to the claim.
There are only two of these findable in the game, and one store that sells them, this one. They work like casting River Song, and I figure it's a nice backup for Patrus if he gets rushed by enemies round one or really needs to disrupt some mages but can't count on, say, Evil Seek, knocking them out as effectively as sending them scuttling away from a ghost would.
Now, back to Martin...
[NORTHWARDEN]
Scratch one group of moredhel magicians. We found them, Duke... Good. I want you three to hurry ahead to the castle. They've already turned back an irritation assault today and I think the Baron can use your help right now. I need to find out what has happened to one of our scouts that's gone missing. I'll be along as soon as I can.Returning to Northwarden and entering the Baron's chambers now ends the chapter, so make sure to do any buying and selling you need to do before then, because after this, raking up gear upgrades for these goons won't be an easy task.
BaK posted:
The portcullis creaked.
An ashen faced soldier trembled as he labored at the monolithic peg wheel, his back arched backwards taut as a bowstring as he hauled the iron gate upwards. With a jerk of his neck, he gasped between clenched teeth for James and his companions to hurry inside.
Within, a handful of soldiers hurried to various tasks on the battlements and panicked captains attempted to rally the surviving contingents of the day's fighting.
"Something's wrong," James muttered, observing the disarray. "What's happened?"
"Baron Gabot's been murdered, that's what's happened!" a nearby soldier shouted, glancing up from where he worked feverishly at unplugging a keg of oil. "We found a bloody nest of Nighthawks in our midst! They murdered the Baron's staff and three of the captains before we cornered 'em in a storeroom."
"Torch those corpses immediately," James ordered. "They might be Black Slayers. Where is Duke Martin?"
"Don't know. You're the closest thing we have to nobility at the moment. Guess that puts you in command, Seigneur.
James said nothing as a rumble of thunder split the sky.
Half dead soldiers trumped past, their eyes hollowed with exhaustion as they traded places with equally worn men brought from the dining hall-turned-infirmary. Few men still possessed clothing unstained by blood.
Dour with the turn of events, James eyed the horizon for any sign of help. In all likelihood, the moredhel would attempt to breach the wall today and there was little he could do about it. Nighthawk treachery had silenced their cannons and too many men had fallen in four days of heavy fighting.
"Attack!" a voice screamed in the stillness. "Attack! Men on the south face!"
James cast a fuming curse into the sunrise. He might die, but he would send as many moredhel as he could reach in to the halls of the Death Goddess before he would go down...
Reasonably true to the book, except in the book James, Locklear and Patrus are stuck in Northwarden for close to a week while they wait for Arutha to arrive. There, Patrus busts out the "canon" version of Killian's Rage, which is a lightning storm crossed with an earthquake that wipes the Moredhel assaulters off the fortress walls at a critical point.
This time, however...
The face this guy makes is funny to me.
BaK posted:
The moredhel thrashed.
As life dimmed in his horrified eyes he toppled backwards into a wooden balustrade. With an ear splitting shriek the railing sundered into flying splinters, tumbled after his flailing feet as he disappeared into nothingness.
Almost too dazed to breathe, James bolted to the wall to sight his fallen opponent. A crumpled heap of armor lay far below, splashed in gore and a spreading stain of red. Close by, a grim looking figure lowered his crossbow and tilted up his shaggy dark head to favor the Seigneur with a rare smile.
Arutha!
Delekhan would think me impolite if I didn't attend his little party. How are the men? Very bad. Of the original garrison of four hundred and fifteen men, two hundred twenty seven are dead, thirty five are mortally wounded, and the rest are afflicted with dysentery or are too exhausted to wield a sword. Your arrival came none too soon. No discourtesy intended, Prince, but why did you wait so long in coming? We made all haste, nearly to the point of calamity! Your well-meaning messengers bumped into trouble and nearly didn't win themselves free. Consequently we didn't receive your word until it was nearly too late for us to respond. We were greatly fortunate to arrive as soon as we did. The moredhel are in retreat? What few of them remain. By the accounts of my scouts, they think there may have been up to at least six companies in the hills. About that. Since they didn't have the decency to attack all at once, we couldn't tell. If our trackers are to be believed, four of those companies slipped out a week ago while the other two kept your forces pinned down. The rest apparently turned southwest. Sounds like they mean to strike at Highcastle. Undoubtedly. Since the moredhel leader has mimicked many of the moves that his predecessor Murmandamus made, it stands to reason he may make many of the same mistakes. As a precaution, I split my forces and diverted half of them to Highcastle. As soon as we are finished cleaning up here, I will take the rest of our companies to engage him there.
Oh shit, title drop. Kind of. Sort of.
BaK posted:
Pug concentrated on the storm.
Whitecaps curled on the face of the Bitter Sea as furious jags of lightning slashed down from a darkening sky. Far off, the wobbling sails of ships leapt in the troughs of grey waves, struggling desperately against winds that threatened to shear them into ragged scraps. Fishermen and frenzied ship masters busied themselves along Krondor's docks as they raced to batten down flapping hatches and prevent unsecured goods from pitching into the churning seas. Everywhere there were planks and hammers and ropes, but among the workers not a soul dared utter a word.
Wrongness. Pug sensed it as clearly as he smelled the salt in the air, and felt the hardwood railing under his hand. What had begun three days ago as a seemingly weak summer squall was intensifying into a threshing eye of violence. Within hours it would make landfall, doubtless bruising the livelihoods of many coastal towns, Krondor among them.
Perhaps it can be tamed, Pug thought, his face twisting into a frown. More of a Lesser Path affair but it should be simple enough...
Even as he extended his hand the image of another storm formed in his mind unbidden, a terrifying storm that had raged over his head as he came into the greatness of his power in a far distant Empire called Tsuranuanni, a storm that had tested his right to be a member of the alien Assembly of Magicians, a storm that had rent open the heavens and forever set him apart from other mortal men.
Energy leapt from Pug's outstretched fingers into the heart of the storm, exploding within it a glorious rainbow pattern that illuminated the clouds in a throbbing elemental display. Greenish bands of color danced the sky as the wind began to abate, the torrential rains quickly softening to a mild patter as blue blasts of energy moved between sea and sky. Gently the ocean stilled of its own accord.
Satisfied the threat was reduced, Pug discontinued the spell with a slicing gesture and stepped back to watch the storm's progress. The sight eased his mind and allowed him time to mull over a series of issues, not the least of which was the ruined vacation that he, his wife Katala and daughter Gamina, had intended on making in Krondor, but like a lodestone to metal he found his thoughts returning again and again to recollections of the Empire...
A Tsurani poet. I believe he was House Omechan...
House Minwanabi, reign of the fifty third Light of Heaven... Is there something you need to see me about Makala? I am...busy. Busy? You have been behaving like a needra bull with a burr in his bit! I came to ask what has Pug of Stardock so distracted that he cannot find time to meet with his associate magicians? Has his reputation so inflated that a member of the Tsurani Assembly is no longer worthy of his attention? I am sorry. Perhaps you are right, I've just been very preoccupied. I find myself obsessed with this storm. All week I've felt it building over the Bitter Sea and all the while I have suspected there is more to it than is immediately perceptible. It doesn't feel natural. Have you seen its like? I have seen its match in destruction. As I recall, you created far more havoc in Tsuranuanni when you disrupted my Emperor's Imperial Games. Several city blocks destroyed, countless lives lost, the War lord cast down in dishonor... I had a feeling you didn't summon a rift-door to chastise me about my lack of attention. What is this about, Makala? Your loyalties, Pug. While you claim loyalty to the Empire, you live your life under the influence of a Midkemian King and took to wife a Thuril highlander. Your judgement is suspect! From the day I left the Empire, my judgement and my loyalties ceased to be the concern of the Assembly of Magicians. I do what I see is best for all concerned. I see. Then, is any act justifiable to that end? If it serves the common good, yes. Even if it violates an individual's rights? What do you wish for me to say, Makala?! You lead me as if I were one of your needra cows but I am in no mood for games. State your business. Very well. Your daughter Gamina has blossomed into a remarkable young woman. She is beautiful, gracious and an honor to your house. Unfortunately, she is also a girl with remarkable powers. Your love for your daughter has led you into a grievous miscarriage of your duties! Why have you let her live? My estimation of a person's magical talents is not determined by their sex, Makala, and I refuse to murder my child to appease a barbaric tenet of the Assembly! They have no authority in Midkemia! In this instance, I believe they will choose to ignore the geography. At this juncture, the Assembly is troubled - surrounded by anti-traditionalists who embrace your Midkemian values, led in large part by Mara of the Acoma. Open defiance by you as our most notable member could weaken our position within the Empire and that is something we cannot afford! We would be forced to make you publicly comply. Although I am equally wary of female abomination, I have no desire to see your daughter dead. I have acted on your behalf and placed her in exile until such a time we can agree upon her ultimate fate... Why didn’t you consult me? Where have you sent her?! Seek her if you wish, but it will avail you little. Your further interference will likely ensure that the Assembly will carry out its order of death. They will be unable to kill her, however, if they cannot find her. It would be to your advantage to leave her be. I will not content myself to sit here while the Assembly banters about the value of my daughter's life! I shall find her and then you tell your brethren to expect my visit! You embark on a dangerous road but it is yours to take. Farewell then, Pug...
This conversation is also relatively true to the book with a few exceptions. It's worded somewhat differently, Pug just writes a note rather than blasting a fucking Angelfire fire.gif on to his wall and Makala presents him with a teleporter device which will take him to/near Gamina, but which will only remain active for one minute after Makala leaves, forcing Pug to dash off after doing no more than writing said note.
After this, we get a scene transition...
The Book of Macros... What do you think the message means?
I thought for a while that he intended for us to contact the magician named Macros, but it would be a feat impossible for even Pug to accomplish. Macros left Midkemia long ago and all he left behind were his writings... And presumably this Book of Macros would be among the books he left behind... Perhaps, but I cannot be certain. The library that Macros left on Sorcerer's Isle was vast and it took us the better part of a year to move the bulk of it to the Academy at Stardock. Since that time, some of the volumes have been lent out to various scribes so that they can be cataloged and transcribed. Then the book could be anywhere---a new approach. Before he disappeared, did you note anything unusual that he may have said or done? As I said earlier he had seemed agitated for some long time, but yes, there was something. About a month ago we were walking in the gardens outside of the palace, just the two of us enjoying the day when he suddenly halted us near a sewer grate. When I asked him what was wrong, he said, "Not all of the sheep are in our fold." Sheep? Forgive me, Lady, but your husband seems to have an infuriating penchant for the cryptic... Not ordinarily, no, only when things are on his mind. But come, I must head towards Stardock and look for evidence of this Book of Macros there. Where shall you two go?
We go below into the sewers under Krondor, Owyn, good Lady. I believe we shepherds have an errant flock of sheep to find.
...going into the sewers was stupid. Oh well, you wanna blow up some thieves and assassins while we're here? I'm sure Pug can take care of himself for a few weeks while we hack some idiots into pieces.