Conan nodded and, without ceremony, left the ruin. At the gates of Ghal-Zur he placed the talisman into the hands of the High Steward—a woman with scarred knuckles who’d spent her youth moving grain through winter snows. She pressed the stone to her breast and, for the first time in years, slept without dream of breakers.
Actionable steps:
The princess's untrustworthy bodyguard.