It was made harder by the knowledge that I’d likely not have time to return to Shadowfell before midsummer and the challenge to Keldec. Our army, such as it was, would not be marching openly to the Gathering. Instead we would travel there as ordinary folk of Alban, taking to the road along with the crowds of others headed in the same direction. The king had twisted the once-popular midsummer celebration into a foul travesty, but folk still flocked there in their hundreds. Attendance, complete with enthusiastic shouting, was viewed as a sign of loyalty; non-attendance by chieftains and their households was likely to result in hard questions at the very least. We would make our way to Summerfort not as an army but in ones and twos, dressed like any other traveller and approaching from various directions. Our uncanny allies were masters of concealment, and would manifest when we needed them.When everyone was present within the walls of Summerfort’s practice area we would reveal our true purpose.
