The mosquito flies in close to the sleeping Goblin. Landing quietly upon his bulbous nose the mosquito latches on with hungry vigor. Coming to his feet instantly Mool rages, and taking one gauntleted open hand slaps himself in the nose so hard he breaks it again. Then jumping to his feet he begins his victory dance...only to hear the pesky beast buzzing near the ear flap of his great helm.
Dot.
dot
Greetings, I hope this missive finds you in good health. Your reputation has reached the ears of those I trust, and it is on their recommendation I make the following offer:
I wish to commission your services for a specific assignment. The matter is of such vital importance, I offer a sum of 1,000 gold pieces simply for meeting with me to hear what I have to say. Payment for successful completion of the assignment is negotiable.
I must also stress the urgent nature of this request - it is imperative that you secure travel to Nerosyan as soon as possible. Presenting this letter to any member of the Pharasmin clergy will ensure their prompt assistance, up to and including magical transport.
Once you have arrived in the city, please make your way to the House of Restful Sleep in the southern part of the city.
With the Blessing of Our Lady of Souls,
High Priestess Jasmin Tameron
He pulls out a slip of paper and an envelope. He offers the envelope to Mool, then reads from the slip of paper. "Somebody wants to give you many shiny coins. Take that envelope to a house of the Spiral Sign. Pharasma, the lady of graveyards. Okay?"
The human looks at Mool, evidently waiting for some sign of understanding and/or acceptance.
-----
|
It wasn't as if this, of all things, was going to kill him. It was only a headache.
Still, his brain dittered about his skull like it had come loose. He sat up, broad circles about his eyes, his hair wild and mangy.
Drinking. He'd been drinking again, hadn't he? A cursory glance to the bottom of the vessel, so beached on the shore, confirmed it. Yes. He had emptied several bottles. Drinking would be the death of him.
Well, he'd made it here, which was the point. The letter was crumpled in his pocket, and he made sure he had it. Good. Time to find this Jasmine and see what she wanted. He took in the City of Crusaders with the respect it deserved.
Nerosyan stood tall and proud, half-beaten but standing at the corners of the Egelsee, and that's what Ciridiel had come to see. Archers bristled, soldiers bustled; Smiths clanked and armorers clanged. Priests gave sermons in the distance, and a young boy stared at him from the shore where his boat was docked.
"Your eyes are stuck," he warned the youth in a groggy voice before swinging his legs out of the barge and stumbling into the muck. He hadn't found his legs yet. They were both asleep-- of course.
Elvish master swordsman, found flailing in mud at the river shore after being left dead drunk in a longshoreman's boat... His father would die of embarrassment if he could see him now.
By the time he'd risen, the youth was gone. Gathering his things, he appraised them and cursed himself silently-- he kept forgetting that he'd left great-uncle Bithaliar's curve blade with some yokel on the shore somewhere. All he had left was the Answerer-- a red steel weapon engraved over with scowling images of flame spires and burning vines. It was a legendary weapon, and it was in the hand of a legendary warrior, like it belonged. Thank the Gods he hadn't left it behind for the yokel, because if he had, he would scratch the thousand gold and go back to get it in a heartbeat. The crusade could end for all he cared-- he needed this sword. It was an extension of him. Lifting the Answerer, he proceeded into Nerosyan with the half-drunk stagger that only someone without any fear could walk.
Ciridiel used his reflection in a barrel of water to fix his long, glorious blonde hair, check his ears, pull the gunk from his eyes and straighten his armor, which he had unfortunately slept in. It was fine-- Mithral was Mithral, and it was as comfortable as night clothes; Stern, rigid, pointy-jointed night clothes. He pulled his cloak across his shoulders and entered Nerosyan through giant gates, but not before casting a long, azure look over the landscape. Just beyond the horizon is where angels feared to tread.
He knew his destiny lied there.
Striding forward, he set out to find this 'House of Restful Sleep.' Pharasmins had a way about naming things in the most dour and grandfatherly way possible, but they were ages ahead of elves. The Greenleaf Thornbriarcastle was an example that stuck out in his mind. Who would do that? An elf. An elf or a gnome.
Maybe the House of Restful Sleep had a few comfortable beds and a few comfortable women. That would make this trip a little less boring, wouldn't it?
Mool gave the messenger his widest smile of welcoming (Well most considered it a constipated grimace), and took the letter in his hand. He glanced back at his females, and saw them nursing and tending to his multiple female children. He was comfortable now. Had he not done enough for the world? Then he saw his newest daughter lying on her pile of hides. The words of the gut readers and bone tossers came back to him.
Knowledge: Local what does Mool know about this priestess.
This one shall finally provide you with the male heir you so desire.
And with firm conviction he turned and faced the messenger. "Mool will come". Then turning back over his shoulder he screams at the females.
"Bring me my helm and weapons". "Mool will venture forth once again to stem the tide of evil, and bring pride once again to the tribe of the Radiant Grovelers"..."Not to mention many shiny pieces of gold".
Merten looked up from his scroll as the innkeeper led the messenger into the rooms he had appropriated as his study. They waited in silence for some moments, before the half-elf arched his eyebrow and nodded his head to prompt the young woman into action. She jumped slightly, startled into action before handing over the letter crisply.
Merten broke the waxen seal with a thick, but trimmed thumbnail and began to peruse its contents, grumbling inaudibly the whole while.
He read the contents over twice, then put the missive to the side and nodded to the messenger. You may go. I'll be along presently.
The mage returned to his scroll, completing the strange runes upon it with slow, precise strokes of his pen. Once done, he took up a new pen and vellum, unstoppered a more mundane vial of ink, and drafted a letter.
Haroon, I am to Nerosyan on business, timeline unknown, but at least they're offering enough gold for the spellcasting to get me there and back. Pharasmins, and offering magical assistance for travel, not that I'd take it. Too many hidden hooks when you accept gifts from the godsworn. I shall write upon my arrival, when I have a better idea of how long I shall be gone. I will be taking Luca and most of the stock with me. Never know what you're going to need in Nerosyan.
Please tend to the garden and the lab while I am away. The next batch of cold iron blanche is almost complete, and you know how well the crusaders pay to coat their arrowheads with it. Above all, please don't leave Egede. In fact, I would prefer if you stayed here at the inn and out of sight, but I know better than to ask for your promise on that. Patience and deliberation, make these your watchwords my son. There are too many here who will see nothing more than your countenance, and seek to do you harm. Please be prudent, if not for yourself, then for your father's peace of mind.
I shall write when I can. See to your studies and the tasks I have set before you. With affection - MF
Once sanded, blotted and sealed, Merten left instructions with the innkeeper to deliver the letter to his foster son, and gathered up his magical gewgaws, fitting most of them into a fine leather haversack entirely too small to contain the contents without the aid of the arcane. As he packed, Merten though over what he knew of the Pharasmin church in Mendev and of High Priestess Jamsin Tameron in particular.
A small, red and gold scaled dragon eventually winged its way lazily over to the wizard and munched on a lake trout as it watched him work, taking the fish apart with small, delicate bites that avoided the bones but left none of the raw white flesh upon them. It's thoughts reached out to Merten, with a familiar, sibilant voice that echoed in his mind, but never broke the silence of the room.
Nerosyan? A bit closer to the Wound than is comfortable, but gold is promised? I suppose I'll come along then. We can see how the repairs to the fortifications are coming along.
Merten nodded his agreement, and shouldered his pack on the right while the tiny dragon alit on his left with a smirk.
Looked like you needed some evening out.
The wizard rolled his eyes with a tiny grin, mostly hidden behind his mustache as he made his way outside. He found a quiet field, free from prying eyes, and began to cast about in a circle, moving widdershins as he called out strange syllables, punctuated by the off-tempo pounding of his feet and fluttering motions of his hands and fingers. After ten minutes, a large, proud horse, with silvery grey body, darkening to ash at muzzle, fetlock, mane and tail congealed into being at the center of the circle. With insubstantial wisps of smoke in place of its hooves, it tossed its head and snorted while the wizard climbed aboard. Without another word, the wizard climbed aboard with faerie dragon in tow, and made his way to the fortress city of Nerosyan and the House of Restful Sleep.
"I could make these for a quarter the price you are asking, if I had my tools" Delgras tried to explain to the blond haired boy the was working the counter of his masters booth.
"Aye, I'm sure you could master dwarf. But you are hear now and if you need these hammers it will be 3 gold and 7 silvers for the pair." the young man responded, kindly but with convection.
Before Delgras could counter he was interrupted. "Master Hammerfall? You are Master Hammerfall right?" asked a dark haired youth wearing the robes of a Pharasmin acolyte, holding what appeared to be a drawing with Delgras's likeness on it and carrying a small satchel over his shoulder
Looking over at the youth, while trying not to lose his place with the smiths apprentice, "Yes I am Delgras Hammerfall. What can I do for you?"
In response the acolyte simply handed him a sealed parchment from the satchel he carried. and stood to wait. Realizing his time was running out before the price for the hammers would go back up he turned to the apprentice and nodded his agreement as he removed the coins from his coin purse. Hooking the new hammers to his belt he turned back to the acolyte, "Are you to wait for a response?"
"I'm not sure Sir, but I suspected it would not hurt to wait and see if you needed assistance." the boy smiled and waited patiently.
Delgras broke the seal and scanned over the missive. Well free coin is never a bad thing, and well if I must travel to Nerosyan this must have to with demons, which means I'm in. Rolling up the parchment as he spoke Delgras addressed the alcolyte again. "Well, it appears I can use you assistance. Your fellows have need of my skills, so lead us to your temple, it seems this is urgent."
The boy nodded and turned in to the crowd and started moving toward the southern exit from the market. Delgras followed along as they made their way out of the Downmarket district along the northern edge of the Cavalcade and into the Bottoms. Their journey ended at the Godsmouth Cathedral, the home and work place of the clergy of Pharasma. The acolyte led them directly in through the huge front doors and showed Delgras to a well appointed sitting room. "If you will wait here I will fetch one of the priests to see to your needs." with a quick nod the boy was back out the door and Delgras was left with his thoughts. As he waited he adjusted his weapons, more out of habit that expecting to need them in the next few minutes. His newly acquired hammers hung at one side of his belt, while his warhammer, which he thought of as Knuckle-Buster hung on the other. Across his back atop his pack was his shield, with its numerous spikes protruding from it at odd angles. His plate armor fit well and while in good condition showed its age and a life time of use in battle. The most telling scars coming from what appeared to be very large crab like claws. Unlike many of his kind Delgras had found that while he could not live without a beard he had no need for it to reach his belt. As a habit he kept it trimmed to less than a few inches long to not provide his enemy's a handhold, and the rest of his hair was normally shorter. Looking at himself in a small mirror on the wall he realized he had not be in battle in a while as his beard had gotten long enough to provide a good handle. I suspect if this trip may require me to remedy this shortly.
A short time later an elven woman appeared at the doorway of the sitting room. "Master Hammerfall, I am Delana Karaheis, the High Priestess of Death and overseer of this church. Young Darson informs me he was directed to find you and deliver a message, which you believe we can help you with."
Delgras almost took a step back as Delana introduced her self as the High Priestess of Death, but steadied him self and responded to her question, as he pulled the parchment from his belt and handed it over. "Ay, it seems your fellows in Nerosyan was to speak with me and as soon as can be arranged."
Taking the parchment Delana scanned it quickly and returned it to Delgras. "So they do. I can not personally transport you but believe I can make arrangements for you to leave first thing in the morning. If you would be our guest tonight I would be honoured."
"As long as you have some decent ale, I would be honoured as well." Delgras said with a grin.
The evening was quite and uneventful, and thanks to Kaer Maga being the trading hub it is they even had a good selection of dwarven ales from Janderhoff and beyond. The guest room was spacious and comfortable and Delgras enjoyed the comfort while he could as he suspected he would be back in the field soon.
The next morning Delana and another gentleman were waiting for him as he finished his morning meal. "Good morning Master Hammerfall, as promised I have acquired the most expedient travel I could arrange for you to Nerosyan. This is wizard Lasfer, he will teleporting the two of you to the receiving area of the House of Restful Sleep."
The wizard appeared to be a middle aged human of unremarkable features that could easily be a merchant or low level nobleman. As Delana finished her explanation he stepped forward and offered his hand. "Good day, as the High Priestess said I am Lasfer I will be transporting us to Nerosyan as soon as you are ready."
Delgras shook Lasfer's hand and turned to Delana. "Thank you for your hospitality and assistance I will stop in for some more of your fine ales if I am ever back by if you'll have me."
Delana nodded and added, "You were a fine guest and a friend of the church is always welcome, may the lady be with you and good luck."
With the pleasantries done Delgras dropped a hand to Knuckle-buster and turned to Lasfar, "When ever you are ready."
With that Lasfar placed one hand on Delgras's shoulder and began to speak words that were truly foreign to Delgras. Then his stomach jumped, Delana had disappeared and the room had changed around them.
-----
The messenger knocks on the door of Efwin's Salves, Potions and Elixirs.
No response, a second knock and the door opens abruptly, allowing a puff of bluish-white smoke to emanate from the room inside, as the smoke clears Efwin stands in the open doorway "By the nine hells man, we aren't open yet." He waves his hands at the smoke dissipating into the street "And now you've gone and ruined a perfectly good concoction!" He glares at the man outside his door, "Well, speak up boy! I haven't got all day and I have plenty more work ahead of me, unless you intend to volunteer to be my assistant for the day."
From inside the shop a soothing, woman’s voice is heard "Master Albaster, please do not frighten the young man." Moments later a petite hand finds its way to Efwin's shoulder as a lithe, young beauty with flowing silver hair steps into view. "Perhaps I should handle this while you get back to today's stock?"
Efwin glares at the boy a moment longer before swiveling around with a huff and storming back into the shop. Asura smiles at the messenger "You must forgive him, he's not really a morning person and can be... a little rough around the edges. What is it you bring?" She nods and maintains her smile as the messenger explains his purpose and hands over the missive. Asura smiles, taking the letter "Thank you for your effort. I shall be sure he reads this over." With that she turns and closes the door.
Walking back into the shop she finds Efwin already back to work, mixing different liquids together over burners and distilling other liquids into bottles. She waits for a pause in his work, as she has learned to find, before speaking to him "You know I may be new to all this, but it generally doesn't help being gruff with anyone who comes to the door." Efwin shrugs "Well, serves the boy right for interrupting me in my work. You know how important my work is... Aside from keeping the stock up I still haven't been able to get out with a good group to assist me in collecting more specimens for my research."
Asura nods listening to his complaints "Well perhaps this may help. The messenger has a letter for you. It must be reasonably important as the messenger had very precise instructions and even a really well done drawing of you." Efwin turns in his stool to look at Asura, his interests peaked "Hmm... well then hand it over, don't just dally there."
Asura hands over the letter, allowing Efwin time to read and digest the information. A slight grin finds it's way to Efwin's lips before vanishing and with that he stands, rolling up the message and standing. "Well seems like some fool wants to pay me to come listen to some pitch, then pay me more for my assistance." He puffs up his chest, shaking the message in the air "Says here I have a great reputation."
He nods to himself then looks to Asura, stuffing the letter in his coat "Suppose I should go look into this and see what it's all about. You can handle finishing up here and getting ready for our customers I trust, that is of course what I hired you for." Asura bows her head a moment before agreeing "Of course, I may not be a master of alchemy like yourself, but you've taught me enough to finish up the simple stuff and we both know I'm much better with the customers than you anyway."
Efwin starts to move toward the door "Hmph, I suppose, in any case I'll be back once this is over." Efwin leaves the shop, not worried leaving Asura in charge as he sees to this message. Walking for some time down the streets of Nerosyan he thinks to himself I sure hope this will not be a waste of time. The gold is nice and all, but my time is most definitely more important. Perhaps this will provide an opportunity to gather further specimens for my research making it at least worth hearing about I suppose. He eventually finds his way to the House of Restful Sleep.
The messenger found Lothar resting in the crusader city of Kenabres, recovering from a recent sojourn into the Worldwound and spending some time mentoring the young Argyris. Never a Dwarf to shirk from duty, the solemn Stonelord set our for the nearby city immediately, leaving a note for Argyris to explain that duty had called him away; that the Pharasmites had requested his assistance. Hefting his massive chain-flail over his shoulder, the sturdy warrior set out for Nerosyan.
The acolytes inside the temple are gracious, even fawning, as they see to your every need. You are shown to a finely-appointed room that contains a variety of food and drink, as well as a hot bath should you desire such lavish treatment. Though some of the attendants are surprised by Mool, they cover their reactions quickly, providing nothing but respectful service. You are promised a fast meeting with the High Priestess, then a return back to your origin, if that is your desire.
For some, several days are spent enjoying the luxurious setting, feasting, drinking, and even sparring with some of the guards who invite you to partake in their training drills. Those of you who focus on the martial aspects are challenged, but maintain your honor and dignity by defeating each of your opponents in friendly but spirited bouts.
The library finds others of your group a home away from home. Thousands upon thousands of tomes line the huge shelves, and large tables are reserved for your use, along with a small number of pages and researchers who assist you in locating rare or unusual books for perusal. Others find time to wander the streets of Nerosyan, a bustling and growing city in the heart of Mendev.
Eventually, the summons arrives - the High Priestess is ready to see you.
Guards in exquisite livery lead you into a hallway that ends in massive silver doors. These are quickly opened by the guards who usher you inside.
The room beyond the doors is longer than it is wide, stretching perhaps a hundred feet beyond the doorway. The ceiling is thirty feet above the floor which is an intricate combination of onyx and marble inlay. Images and symbols of Pharasma are present throughout the room – surely, this is the nexus of worship for her faith in the city of Nerosyan, perhaps all of Mendev. The guards politely urge you forward toward a group of individuals standing on a low platform in front of a simple silver chair.
In the center of the group is a plain woman of middle years wearing a black gown and a holy symbol of Pharasma. From the way the guards bow at her, you deduce this is the High Priestess. To her left, an older man wearing heavy plate armor and a blue tabard stands at attention. Beyond him, a younger man wearing brown leather armor rests, his posture appears to be more relaxed than his neighbor, but something about him seems tense, almost as if he was a predator preparing to pounce at a moment’s notice.
A half-orc stands at the right of the High Priestess wearing black chainmail. Something about the armor seems to refract the light around it, making the half-orc's image seem almost blurry at certain angles. Beside the half-orc, a young woman leans on a long staff. Her purple robe is covered in arcane runes and letters, and tiny stones rotate around her head in concentric orbits.
As you wait, several others are brought in to stand beside you.
The High Priestess regards the group for a moment then bows low. In a strong voice, she greets you, "Thank you for accepting my invitation. At the conclusion of our discussion, I shall make good on my offer and give each of you 1,000 gp as promised."
"Now, for the matter at hand. There is a monastery located about fifty miles northwest of Nerosyan. For almost a hundred years, it has been the center of research by men and women of faith who have joined together in an effort to defeat the demons and end the threat of the Worldwound. Contact was ongoing, if not steady, through mundane and magical means. Unfortunately, all contact with the monastery ceased fourteen days ago. We have been unable to contact them using magic, and the three delegations we have sent on horses have not returned.”
”The monastery has many magical and mundane defenses which have been built up and reinforced during its existence. As if that was not enough, it is located on the top of a large rock tower. To the best of our knowledge, the monastery is protected from nearly every magical form of scrying or transportation, as well as magic that permits enhanced travel such as fly and spider climb. At present, the only known way to enter the monastery is to ride up to the top of the tower in a large basket.”
She pauses for a moment, then continues, ”I cannot stress enough how important the monastery is for our continued crusades against the demonic hordes. If something has happened, if the scholars – or their research – have been taken by the demons. I do not exaggerate when I say it may mean the end of Mendev, and this region of the world, as we know it.”
"What questions do you have for us about this task?"
The older man wearing the heavy armor is General Torr Talke, a high-ranking member of the Royal Mendev Houseguard. His involvement most likely indicates the Queen favors this expedition.
The half-orc is only known by his working alias, Cinder, and he is one of the foremost spies in the land. These same rumors might also include tales about his skills as an assassin, but the people repeating such stories have no desire to test their luck by restating such slanderous nonsense.
The woman is Deidre F’ormori, a sorceress of great power who also possesses a keen intellect. Her blood is seemingly that of the demons, and stories about her birth behind the Ward Stone are full of conjecture and innuendo. In all the years she has fought on the side of the Silver Crusade, Deidre has never demonstrated anything but unwavering loyalty to the Throne of Mendev.
Lothar Graelson looked about the room, taking in the High Priestess and her entourage and looking over the rather mixed group assembled.
He raised his hand first, speaking in his deep and slow voice. The pitch of the Dwarf's voice was that of someone who was used to commanding respect and authority among his peers.
I have questions. Obviously you have gathered individuals of immense individual merit, as opposed to sending further Crusaders. I am inclined to agree that a smaller, elite force is more likely to see success than the rank-and-file.
To prevent bluster and provide an objective picture of the talents of our group, I would ask, High Priestess, for you to describe the talents of each of the potential members of this mission (including myself for fairness); and why they have been chosen. I would also ask for details of the delegations you sent to investigate and whether magical communication or scrying divined how far they made it; did they manage to enter the monastery?
The Stonelord bowed his head in respect, having posed his questions.
I will of course, lend my aid to this worthy endeavour. I am honoured to have been selected.
|
|
Ciridiel listens to the priestess, wiping an apple down with the corner of his cloak the entire time.
Besides the pampering, the stay had been boring so far. And now she wants them to ride up a bucket into a monastery? Whatever. She paid, he fought, they both got what they wanted.
He's about to speak when the dwarf does-- and questions why he's been chosen for this. Truthfully, Ciridiel is interested in what the woman will say, so he stays quiet for now, casting wholly blue, alien elf-eyes across the room and taking in the splendor.
Delgras took in the splendor as they were shown in to the meeting with the High Priestess. The building looked well made, but not quite dwarven craftsmanship.
He was a bit surprised at the number of people in attendance with the High Priestess, but even more surprised to see that a Goblin had been invited to the meeting as well. They must be desperate if they are bringing a green skin in for this. It was encouraging however to see another of his people enlisted for this endeavor.
He was considering the task and what he might want to know when the dwarf spoke up and presented some very good questions. Well put brother, it seems he has done this before. Delgras was interested to see what the priestess had to say and hear her explanation for the individuals chosen. So for now he would hold his tongue and see what happened.
Efwin takes in the granduer of the place he listens to the High Priestess make her pitch. He rolls his eyes at her mention of the end of Mendev and thinks How many times have I heard that before. It seems the end of Mendev is always nigh.
As one of the dwarves speaks up he listens and nods approvingly, then waits as the dwarves stops, seemingly waiting for him to add something else. After a moment, Efwin sighs and speaks up "Good points master dwarf, but you forgot one important thing, what kind of pay is involved?"
Lothar sniffed in slight disdain.
I had not forgotten the question good Elf... It was simply not relevant to me.
Efwin shrugs and says under his breath "Does not mean it is not relevant to the rest us."
True enough Lothar thought to himself, sending the Elf a wry smile to show no offence had been meant.
Certainly, Merten adds in a quiet voice, the matter of recompense should be discussed, although the evident generosity of Lady of Graves' earthly conduit here in Mendev gives me high hope that an acceptable agreement can be reached in that regard. And, her esteem in asking us here is an honor no doubt, especially when coupled with an invitation to sate my curiosity.
He takes in the grandeur of the room, and the esteemed personages therein, both those on the dais, and his fellow guests. I suppose my first question must be, what need have you for us? I see a noted guide there with you, a general of the royal household, a most accomplished infiltrator, and of course, a noted arcanist and friend to crusaders everywhere. The half-elf gives a small bow to each in their turn, respectful without being subservient.
I am, unfortunately, not so familiar with my fellow guests, although one does hear tales, especially of holy warriors, master combatants, and noted chymists. Nevertheless, I am curious as to why you would seek us out, when you already have such accomplished friends. Are we to work together, or perhaps they have pertinent information regarding the task at hand?
He strokes his beard briefly, taking in a deep breath as he thinks. Then of course, there are logistical questions. What protects this monastery from divination? Can birds fly near it, or is all flight barred? What is the mechanism for that? Can it be climbed with rope and grapple? Are there traps amongst the fortifications? What was the nature of the last communication from the monastery, and I seem to recall Tala being abandoned almost three decades ago, something about the unquiet dead, and nasty ones at that. That is the monastery you're referring to, isn't it?
He frowns in thought, then looks up to the high priestess once more, and then of course, there is the question of what result you are seeking, your Holiness. Is this a scouting mission, a rescue, or a... cleansing?
Knowledge: Local
Mool eats a lot during his wait, and even takes part in some of the sparring, surprising some with his skill. He stays away from the library...it was sad...so many with their words stolen from them. Finally it was time for some action.
He listens as the others ask their questions. Nodding his head as though he really cared about what they were saying. He knew his faith, and need for coin for his grandson to inherit were all that was important. Once the questions were answered, he raised his tiny hand for his question.
"Can we leave now"? He asks trying to sound like the deep voiced Dwarves, but coming out as a harsh screech.
The high Priestess seems unperturbed by the questions, indeed, it's almost as if she is expecting them.
Looking at Lothar, she responds, "Your talents are clear for all to see, Master Graelson, as are the abilities of your companions. Foremost - all of you are able to stand against the demonic hosts you may face in this journey and succeed where others have failed. As for why you were chosen, that is quite simple. We received a prophecy. Such a thing has not happened since The Last Azlanti disappeared, so we were surprised, and pleased, when Fate once again spoke through our prophets."
"As for the delegations we have sent. The first was a simple supply run accompanied by a dozen priests and soldiers. The next was twenty soldiers. Our last attempt, sent a week ago, consisted of scouts, infiltrators, mages, and priests. To date, none of them have reported back to our agents. We know they all made it within sight of the rock tower and monastery, but contact was lost at that time. We expected to hear from them once they entered the walls of the compound, but no further messages were received."
Glancing at Efwin, she grins impishly, "Master Albaster, when your missions succeeds, you shall have the sum of 5,000 pieces of gold, or the equivalent in platinum or gems. That is in addition to the 1,000 I shall provide at the conclusion of this meeting."
Nodding at Merten, she continues, "Hopefully that is enough to make any negotiations moot."
"As for my companions, they are here of their own accord for various reasons. They all have a vested interest in your success. To my comment a moment ago, men and women who serve my friends are currently missing as they were part of previous teams sent to investigate. And truth be told, they are also financially supporting this expedition, namely, their organizations are providing some of the reward you will receive. All of Mendev is concerned about this issue, not just our church, and not just Her Majesty."
"As for your companions - our readings were clear. The six of you possess some unique qualities that should prove useful on this assignment. The prophecy was also very clear that only six should attempt the journey, all others would perish before reaching the monastery."
"I do not know all of the monastery's protections, such details are a closely guarded secret. That said, I do know the entire area is covered in magical wards that prevent all means of scrying and messaging. The only exception that I know if are small silver bells in the monastery's inner chamber that allow communication through magical means. Another identical bell exists for each on at the monastery, and whenever two people hold the bells, they can speak to one another even over great distances. "
"I have also been informed that the area is covered in alternating auras that cancel all magic within several hundred feet of the monastery, while at other times the air is charged with so much positive energy, it would literally consume your flesh before you knew what was happening. That is the challenge, the auras fluctuate, and there is no pattern. One might get lucky and make it through, while another would be forcibly teleported into a deep ocean. So to answer your question, birds may be able to fly near the tower, but they may also die in the attempt through no fault of their own. "
"Rope and grapple may be used, at least, I guess it would work if you stay near the rope holding the basket. There has to be a hole in their protections so they don't injure people riding up and down the tower. That is one reason a dozen knights are stationed at the base of the tower - extra protection against wandering demons."
She pauses for a moment to think, "The last communication was entire mundane in nature, and I have confirmed with the other parties that nothing surprising or concerning was received by anybody. And yes, we did report it was abandoned, but we never did leave it. It's too secure and in too good a location for the work we're doing."
"As for the result - find out what's happened. Use your best judgement; it is important that you save as many people as you can while also recovering as much data as you can. That said, give the unpredictable nature of the Worldwound - do not hesitate to use force if the situation demands such a response."
Lothar listened carefully and attentively, pondering the High Priestess' words for almost a full minute before he sought an opening to speak.
Such a setup would be almost unassailable from the outside, even with merely a token force. Even in the face of heavy assault, there would be time to send a message out or get a survivor out. Whatever has befallen this monastery, I believe must have struck from within; whether it was a traitor or an ancient evil, who is to say.
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"All well and good."
With a smirk, he adds "Destiny spoke out and said that we're the only ones who can do this, right? Well, then. May as well let the Lady know that I'm not one to turn down an opportunity when she asks."
He coughs and holds out his hand. It has the apple in it. Taking a bite, he says through apple grit "When do we go?"
Delgras takes in the information that the high priestess provides and weighs the risk and reward as well as the need to protect the realm.
Stoically Delgras responds, I will lend my skills to this endeavor as well, as it seems something of import that needs to be seen to.
Stopping for a moment a thought seems to come to him, Would it be possible for one of your people to get a message to my nephew? He expects me back from Kear Maga with in the next day or two. He is training with the Shoanti of the Spire Clan.
She looks at Lothar, "Indeed, we fear that something has happened inside the monastery. But that said, we do not doubt the loyalty of the men and women who live and work there. Extensive investigations and examinations are made of every person who is assigned there, the research is too valuable and important to trust in our instincts."
The female mage speaks up at this point in a rich and throaty voice, "To that point, remember that the defenses only exist to prevent unwarranted entry and exit. So you cannot teleport into or out of the monastery, but once you are inside the walls, you may magically move yourself to any other location inside the compound. If something has happened within the walls, its effects have most likely remained confined within the monastery."
The High Priestess nods before fixing Ciridiel with a look that seems concerned. She gently responds, "Unfortunately, that's not exactly correct. The prophecy did not say you were the only ones who could succeed at this mission. It simply said you were the next people who should go. The success of your endeavor was not part of the prophecy. On the other hand, perhaps it is some comfort to know that your failure was not mentioned either."
Nodding to Delgras, she responds, "Of course, any messages you need to send will be taken and delivered by our most reliable people."
You are receiving prophecy? And you are sure that the source is legitimate? Was there any more of it? I would know the exact words, if you would share them.
What was the nature of the research conducted at the monastery? And what sort of data would we be looking for?
Efwin listens to all the back and forth and finally adds "I should be able to help. I'll need to attend to some things at my shop, but will be ready to leave in the morning."
Jasmin nods vigorously at Merten's question, "Yes, we are sure of the source, one of Pharasma's heralds confirmed it, though it appeared to be as surprised as we were. And believe me, we were stunned. It's been over a hundred years since we received any reliable prophecies from Our Lady, so our skepticism was far greater than any you may have."
"But even so, after many months spent in prayer, we began to see signs of the prophecy actually coming to pass. It was unfortunate, however, that we were not able to fully realize its significance at the time. Many of the priests that dealt with prophecies went mad immediately after Aroden's... loss, and we have little practical experience without their wisdom. Most of what we do and know is based on texts that were handed down through the generations. And as I'm sure you can attest, reading about something isn't always the best way to actually learn about and understand something."
General Talk speaks up when the conversation turns to research at the monastery. In a confident voice, "The people at the monastery were trying to understand the Ward Stones, as well as figure out other ways of containing and destroying demons. They actually built a functioning Ward Stone, but they only invested enough power for it to last ten years. Some of the other scholars were trying to discover a way to finally collapse the Worldwound itself. As most of you know, it is a gateway that leads directly to the Abyss - the home plane of the demons. Closing it would seriously cripple the ability of the demons to conduct war upon the civilized lands, and without the ability to gather reinforcements, we could eventually rid ourselves of the maggots."
The female wizard speaks up, "Indeed, that is why the monastery has so many protections - the information contained within is not only vital to Mendev and the Crusades. If some of it fell into the wrong hands, say a charismatic and powerful demon lord, they could gain a significant advantage over their rivals. One of the reasons Mendev has lasted so long against the Worldwound is because our enemies are fractious and divided; thankfully, their very nature works against them. But if a single demon rose up and managed to take control of the hordes, then it launched an attack with a singular mission and coherent strategy..."
The old General nods grimly. "She's got it. Not only do we need the research to continue our fight, but we can't let it give one of those motherless spawn an advantage over the others."
"No Demon Lord dare stand against the might of Mool the Brilliant". "I hope there is one there who tries".
High Priestess Jasmin assumes a regal stance, holding her head up and speaking clearly:
"The next to climb,
The tower of stone,
Shall number the Gods
of night's face symbols
The warrior of eld,
Bearing the ancient Answer,
Two Mountain Kings,
The Ninth Lord of Stone,
And a Fallen Hammer,
Who saw a dancing ruin
A patient learned fool,
From the vale of Freedom's heart
And the curious healer
Risking danger for the lure of lore
The sixth, a small holy warrior
From the wolf-faced God of Heroes
All strong in heart and arm
To enter the Tall House
And face its nearing end"
"There is more to it, both before and after. The prior sections relate to events both important and mundane, but they don't mention anything about the monastery - this section is the first part in which you are mentioned. Unfortunately, much of the rest is still being investigated. Sadly, we are learning that some prophecies are only fully understood once it's too late to change them. We are fairly certain, however, that there is nothing else in the prophecy that affects you or the monastery."
Delgras continues to listen, not sure what to make of the fact that prophecy appeared to be returning to the world, or if it really mattered to him. Well at least prophecy would explain how they pulled our names out of a helm for this mission, and why the crazy green skin is here as well.
Well, that's very interesting, and not at all oblique. Hopefully the nearing end of the Tall House is not our own. So, just to be clear, infiltrate, rescue, search, destroy, and reclaim any data. Without external scrying or flight.
Merten purses his lips, and thinks for a moment. Ten thousand gold, and plunder rights. No less. You may, of course, have right of first purchase at market value on any recovered items deemed salable.
General Talk's face instantly reddens and he opens his mouth to begin what is sure to be a sharp retort. His tirade ceases before it begins, however, as the High Priestess holds up her hand. Surprisingly, he closes his mouth, though he looks quite unhappy about it.
Jasmin looks at Merten, "If you arrive and find the situation to be one of ... instability... then I have no problem with your terms."
Excellent! he responds with a genuine smile. When do we depart? I will need provisions for the journey, and the exploration.
When the wizard had requested the fee be doubled Delgras was a bit shocked at his directness, but wasn't going to fight the apparent results.
Jasmin indicates the mage to her side, "Deidre can convey you to a position two miles away from the tower. While it not possible to magically travel directly to the monastery, we have established a secure location for just this occasion. Cinder, Sir Heristor?"
The man beside the general looks at the half-orc, then speaks, "My men secured the location two days ago and have remained on station. I will commune with them prior to the teleport to ensure everything remains as planned."
Cinder rumbles, "Travelers and caravans have been routed away from the circle. They will have a safe journey to the base of the tower."
Nodding, Jasmin looks back at the party, "We have secured a small shrine just across the border of Mendev to use for teleportation. Deidre has already successfully traveled there twice, so taking all of you shouldn't be a problem. From the shrine, it will only be a short journey to the monastery."
Mool ceases his posturing and practicing his sword flourishes, while the others finsh talking. He then drops to one knee..."Oh mighty and wise Zarongel, give us your blessings on this dangerous, and necessary journey".
He then jumps to his feet.
"OK". "I'm ready now". "Everyone stand behind me, I'll go first". [
Efwin shrugs "I can agree to those terms. As I said, I must at least get word to my emplyoee before we depart either directly or through missive."
Jasmin smiles at Mool indicates his willingness to leave, "Patience, warrior of ... the Wolf-Hero."
She looks at the rest of the group, "We can leave as soon as everyone is ready. I know some of you may need to visit shops and stores in the city to adequately prepare, and some may want to attend to other business as well. Let us plan to leave at first light tomorrow. That will give everyone enough time to handle matters, as well as let you get one more night of peaceful sleep."
Before everyone starts running off to attend to their own preparations Delgras speaks up, addressing his new companions. "Shall we meet and take our evening meal together tonight to discuss our plans and individual talents? I for one would like to know who I have at my back when battle is joined."
An excellent suggestion, Master Hammerfall. Merten gives a small, gentlemanly bow and straightens. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see a man about a mirror.
1 Fine silver mirror (1,000 gp) - Focus for scrying
Potion of cure light wounds (50gp) - As many as possible, up to 10
Potion of protection from evil (50gp) - x2
Potion of reduce person (50gp)
Potion of darkvision (300gp) - x3
Potion of remove paralysis (300gp)
Potion of gaseous form (750gp)
Diamond dust (3000gp)
Total: 6,600 gp
Merten deposits the remaining 3,400gp in a reputable bank.
I would be amenable to this suggestion, brother Delgras Lothar rumbled with a polite thump on the shoulder.
Sadly lacking the time to have his equipment further enchanted, Lothar used the temple's formidable contacts to acquire a pale blue rhomboid Ioun Stone, which floated soundlessly around his head, infusing his body with strength he would surely need in the trials ahead. He also bought a magical scabbard where he sheathed his waraxe, thinking it prudent to have a second source of magic infusing his weaponry.
Before leaving the House of Restful Sleep Delgras writes a short message to be delivered to Berrag.
With the message completed and handed off to an acolyte for delivery, Delgras heads to the Downmarket district to complete his shopping.
Boots of Striding and Springing - 5500gp
Potion of Bear's Endurance x 2 - 600gp
Potion of Cure Serious Wounds x 3 - 2250gp
Potion of Enlarge Person - 50gp
Potion of Protection from Fire (Cl5) - 750gp
Potion Remove Blindness/Deafness - 750gp