Lysander nods.
Mine is indeed glowing in an inexplicable manner. The young alchemist attempts to determine how to communicate with the dragon lord.
Attempting to figure out what to do, Lysander slaps his tattoo with an open palm.
Noticing the faint glow through the straps of his cestus, Daubeny nods. At Iraonar's words, a faint clang is heard in the darkness. "This is why Lysander didn't want you leading."
Lysander stares around, unsure what he is looking at.
I seem to be perceiving more but still far from clearly after a sharp application of force to my tattoo.
Lysander exclaims in surprise. He bows to the dragon.
Noble Vix'thimus, as you know, we have retrieved your gem. Thank you for your additional gifts to aid our endeavors. What target shall we prioritize next?
Aside to his companions, he states
I do not know the nature of the arrangement but I received heightened abilities of vision by applying manual force to mine.
Giving his forearm a hearty slap, Daubeny watches the dragon with a careful eye. "I know better than to ask how. So, as Lysander asks, where next?"
Hearing the rest of the group talk, Amelia notices that her tattoo is indeed glowing. She says "Yes, mine is too."
Vix'thimus stretches forward and says, "You have done well. I now possess the first gem and with its power I have been able to grant each of you the ability to see in the darkness. I am close to finding the location of the second gem. I will send you after it as soon as I have its location. In the meantime I am sending you at a villa to rest and train. The servants there will tend you any needs that you have. There will be others there who I have found that will join you on your next mission."
End Gameplay for now and head to discussion
All of you are led to your rooms where you are given hot baths and a private dinner. You go to sleep and rest well after your first day of working for the dragon.
You wake refreshed. Fine close are laid out for you. A servant who is assigned your quarters helps you with anything you may need.
After you are dressed the servant directs you to the dining hall for breakfast. You all meet on the way there. When you arrive you see two others already seated and eating at one of the tables. What is surprising is that there is a crocodile under the table that they are seated at.
Lysander exclaims at seeing the crocodile.
Beware! There is a potentially bellicose ectotherm stationed beneath the dining surface!
He draws a flask of acid, prepared to hurl it at the beast. He notes the two seated figures and their calm.
Do you two have any specific data to justify your calm reception of this reptilian's presence?
"Dude, It's a pet. We had them all over Aria. I've never seen one so small or smooth though."Iraionar says as he passes Lysander.
He addressees the new men at the table."Why did you cut all the spikes off its back? He's not a particularly violent dire croc, is he?"the youth stops mid action as he was about to pet the reptile. It seem to just down on him after his sentence that if that is the case petting may not be wise.
"It bites." The man dressed in black with pale blond hair cautions. "Not my pet though."
He yawns, then takes a sip from his coffee cup. "There's breakfast."
Lysander edges very carefully around the crocodile, trying very hard not to disturb it or attract its attention.
He slips silently into a chair next to the man who hasn't spoken yet and begins browsing the breakfast fare. He mentions quietly to the new companion
A fascinating geo-economic issue, obtaining fine meals in an isolated locale such as this. I do wonder how their limited means of production and transportation constrain the gustatory choices made by the inhabitants and how that is reflected in the meal set before us. I am Lysander, by the bye.
Finishing chewing the biscuit he had started just before the others came in, Kol-Relden will pick up a thick slice of bacon. Ignoring the odd man with the vial for the moment, he replies to the pale-skinned youth's questions "Well, to start with Nippy is just an ordinary crocodile, not of the dire variety. He also isn't all that small for his age, being only about four years old. Crocodiles also tend to be small in the central lake lands, all the better to hide from the larger predators. As for how dangerous he is, he will only attack someone if I tell him to or if they attack him first." Putting the bacon under the table, he gently tosses it down to Nippy, who catches it out of the air. "I also don't particularly consider him a pet. He is more of a companion."
Turning his attention back to the odd man, he is somewhat surprised to find them sitting next him. Listening patiently to his rambling, he speaks up once the man names himself. "I only really understood about half of what you said, good sir. I hope you do not take offense if I don't reply to whatever it was that you said in a way that you find acceptable. As for me, my name is Kol-Relden. Are you all nobility as well?"
Lysander bows politely to Kol-Relden, replicating the courtesies of the merchant nation in which he was raised. Certainly, my experiences have acclimated me to the fact that the majority of social encounters are hampered by non-overlapping vocabulary sets. The young noble pauses for a moment and speaks slowly, with some effort. I mean I'm not good at talking to people... As my companions to-date can verify. Noble is a generous term for my family as our salience is more from merchant and bureaucratic endeavors than royal ancestry. And may I presume that the two of you also represent noble houses?
"O ya, I sometimes forget that there are non-dire versions of animals."Iraonar comments as he pats Nippys head.
After siting down and gathering a little bit of every type of food to his plate Iraonar stand up gives a great bow with much flare as he says,"I am Prince Iraonar Dynisius third son and court musician of King Frasus Dynisius of Aria. And we lost a game of Not It for our title so don't sweat ancestry to much Lysander. Though I do love a good history discussion so perhaps later if you have the time you might recount to me some of those endeavors?"A twinkle of excitement gleams from Iraonars eye before he cuts himself off to ask,"But first tell me Kol-Relden what title do you hold? And of what land? I don't recognize your dress as I did with my other companions. And you good friend"He indicates Raikdar with an upturned open palm,"I recognize some styling similar to Zamorozhenny but you are clearly not of there blood. Are you there neighbor perhaps?" After he launches his volley of questions he sits fidgeting waiting for answers, eyes wide with curiosity.
Raikdar... The pale haired man hesitates, then goes on. "Silvershrike. Of Ruanmark. If one loses the game politic, it changes to the game of survival. I've been on the road for a long time, it's safer that way."
Raikdar gazes off into the distance. "At least until I got caught up in the schemes of dragons."
"And I am Amelia Wil Tesla Selruun." says the young woman who descends the stairs, this time wearing a white gown that matches her skin nicely and is festooned with pearls.
"But as I mentioned to the others, you may all call me Amelia."
Lysander watches Amelia descend the stairs with a look of mild surprise on his face. But then he can't help but turn back to the history that Iraonar mentioned.
Thank you for inquiring! There certainly are some fascinating tales I could share of the Silvestran economic accords that re-shaped mid-continental textile markets for decades!
He nods at Raikdar's comment. Indeed we have found ourselves embroiled in a perilous and fascinating affair. We have come to believe that our Draconic and skeletal employer's intentions are benign, though his methods are certainly forceful. Are you of a similar opinion?
He looks around for a little bit.
And where is Sir Daubeny? It would be well to have his experienced presence among us.
"A shortened version of my full title is Prince Kol-Relden of House Westfalen, and I am third in line to the crown of Chantis. However, you may simply call me Kol-Relden, as I am not as focused on titles as many of my countrymen are."
"If Politics is so dangerous why dose anyone bother with it in your lands? If its as boring as it is back home it hardly seems worth the trouble."Iraonar asks Raikdar confused. "Also how do you loose a game where everyone is on the same side?"
Daubeny wanders into the dining hall, his armor for once absent and instead simply leather clothing, unadorned and with little wear. He blinks owlishly at the sunlight, his skin pale from time spent in his armor. Damn, I'm going to need a forge to proper remove those dents from my armor. Pausing, the Thoreand prince scratches his stubble with his cestus, gazing at the crocodile and two new arrivals. "I take it there is a reason there is a crocodile calmly sitting under breakfast?"
Shaking his closely shaven head, the warrior pauses. "I'm Daubeny Threcken, Knight of the Order of the Orchid." Looking at his companions, the knight's gruff demeanor returns. "You two are?" Sitting down, the large man begins to eat his meal with gusto.
"Why bother with politics? To win the crown of course. Bloodline matters in my homeland, but the number of nobles that support your banner matter more. Of course, if a rival should happen to suddenly die, you're that much closer to your goal. Raikdar smiles grimly. "That's why I retired from politics. To avoid sudden death."
Raikdar appraises the two latest arrivals, eyes narrow.
"Raikdar Silvershrike." He answers the knight's question.
Lysander shrugs at Daubeny's question. I intuit that normally I would be more prepared to answer that question but the reptile's proximity is somewhat unsettling to my cognitive processes. It's associated with this gentleman in some manner of which I have absolutely no knowledge. He points to Kol-Relden with a respectful nod. It's appellation is "Nippy."
He listens intently to questions of politics and succession. He nods Indeed, the vagaries of political ambition are one reason my country has done its best to remain insignificant on the political landscape, though it would naturally be so in any case.
"Nippy?" Pausing with a forkful of food, the knight sets down his utensil. Glancing Raikdar, then to Kol-Relden. His tone is dry and unquestioning like he already knows the answer, but still wants to make sure. "Royalty?"
Daubeny's eyes don't narrow, but the warrior prince meets Raikdar's gaze with his own iron stare.
"If he had lived, my father would have been king. Instead, my Uncle is. He has a son, so my position is unenviable. I keep alive by staying on the move." The pale haired Northerner shrugs. "Now, apparently, I'm an errand-boy for undead dragons. I think it might be an improvement."
"It is truly...interesting the way that different kingdoms rule. Selruun doesn't believe in dynastic wars, and we all just do our best to help the kingdom as we can."
Lysander nods agreeably in whole-hearted agreement with Raikdar's story. Dynasties are tricky things. But he's fairly distracted as he's mixing several of the more exotic drinks and sauces together into his glass. He then leans back away from his glass and sprinkles some powder into it. There is a small *FOOM* and a puff of smoke rushes up out of the glass. He smiles absentmindedly then looks around at his companions.
Does anyone know anything of where the dragon will be sending us next?
Replying to Daubeny's question, "Yes, Sir. Threcken, I am of royal blood. My parents are king and queen of Chantis." Turning back to look at Lysander, he continues. "As for what is to happen next, or where it is to happen, I am as unaware as you."
At this point Nippy has grown tired of all the noise that resulted from the newcomers into the room. Standing up, he will waddle his way out from under the table and move into a patch of sunlight streaming in from a window.
Iraonar looks quite troubled as Raikdar speaks. The idea of political power plays is obviously alien and grotesque to the young man. As the conversation turns to there future a mix of relief and curiosity wash the worry away.
Iraonar mentions,"We could just ask. I'm sure one of the servants can get us an audience. As we wait for that, Our benefactor got me my big harp from my house and I haven't gotten a new audience for a performance in a while. Might I entertain you all with song before we get up to more adventuring shenanigans?"
"Some music would be nice..." Raikdar's lips curl in a narrow smile. "And perhaps a game of cards to while away the time."
Hearing the other kingdoms talk of ruling, Daubeny sighs. Thoreand is a dictatorship in all but name. A well liked dictatorship, but still a militarily ruled country. Aloud, the knight voices his thoughts. "More nobles. The dragon truly wishes for these gems."
Shaking his head at the idea of a perfromance, Daubeny motions for a servant to appear. "I have forge work to do. Perhaps later."
Lysander nods. I too have procedures to attend to. I'll be in my quarters with my laboratory. The alchemist shuffles off, muttering formulae under his breath.
"Please don't be offended. Both of them are good men, and stout allies of Justice!"
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." Iraonar replies. He then asks the majordomo over and says"Would you have my grand harp brought here and send a message to our employer we seek an audience at his next available convenience."
"I could talk at great length about Justice, should you so wish it." says Amelia, clearly hoping that you do wish it.
"I'm to curious where this will go to say no. Lets start with, how do you define justice?"Iraonar asks in a conversational tone.
Smiling, Amelia begins, taking on her best "lecturing professor" posture. "Yes, let us begin with the question of how one defines justice. It is not as easy a task as one might think, as there are many metrics that one might use to view an act as just or injust, some simple ones would be: The Justice of the Gods, the King's Justice/Social Justice, Irony, and of course, let us not forget desserts. Each of these metrics allow an act to fall upon them separately: Where one metric might consider something just, another could consider it the height of injustice. It is through the lenses of the various forms of Justice that one begins to get a glimpse of true justice, or universal justice. It is a goal that is ultimately unreachable by man, but one that should be strove for regardless."
Amelia begins to pace as she continues "Now that we have considered what is true justice, the next question one needs to turn to is how to act with such an ideal in mind. One must consider the perspective of all involved, listening not only to what is said, but seeing the things that are unsaid as well. Each thing must be weighed and measured to determine how just it is. You must then consider how each thing fits into the greater whole. There is a great deal more I could expound on the subject, but I think I have given you just a taste to understand the greater world of pure Justice!"
Raikdar sighs. It seems there would be no card game. He leans his chair back on two legs, putting his booted feet up on the table. He shuffles his deck of cards while he listens to Amelia give her lecture on justice. He is not completely disinterested in the topic.
"That does get us to the right mind frame but you still haven't actually given a definition to justice."Iraonar points out.
"Justice can't be put into simple words; if it could, everyone would act from a sense of Justice." says Amelia as if that explains everything.
Iraonar seems to come to a profound realization at Amelia's explanation,"Well if one can't specify what justice is and its subjective anyway I suppose we are all allies of justice unless we want to not be."With relief he continues,"I don't feel nearly as bad about stealing this sword now. He then says firmly but not accusingly,I still don't think we had to kill all those troglodytes, just or not!"
"True Justice is objective, not subjective. Weren't you paying attention?"
"As for the Trogolodytes, do you believe they would have slain you given the chance?"
Iraonar replies,"You also said there are a ton of conflicting metrics. That leaves only what each individual sees and also means justice changes bast on your point of view. As you said at that point we would all act justly all the time, except the rare crazy person. Thus we are all from our respective perspectives just. I suppose from we are all unjust from someones perspective though. We really should all come together and get some sort of standard together for this sort of thing. That being said we broke into the troglodytes house armed to the teeth they probably would have left us alone if we had left the room. We also could have let them run when they got scared and tried to. They were no threat at that point."
After a few days of you are all summoned to the dining hall.
David informs you that the master has located a clue to the location of another gem.
"The location is the Battlemarket of Kelmarane in the desert of Katapesh. It was abandoned by humans long ago and is currently being occupied by a band of gnolls.There are other rumors of great evil in the town. The master would like you to go there and see what you can find."
"The Pactmasters of Katapesh desire to bring the village back under their economic control. They have assigned the merchant princess Almah the task of scouting out the village, clearing it of malign influence, and getting it working again."
"The master has arranged for you to meet with a man named Garavel. He is Ahmah's major domo. You will be assigned to the her caravan as guards to help her with her task."
"He would like you to keep your real mission a secret to keep others from searching for the object that you are after."
"Are there any questions?
The alchemist prince's eyes bug out at the description of their task and he attempts to recall everything he knows of this Battlemarket and the region around it.
Have there been previous attempts to reclaim this Battlemarket? If so, how did they fare? What form of tactile terrain will this location present to us? Is anything known of this reputed evil power that potentially threatens us when we travel there? What political and mercantile goals are Almah pursuing in her current career?
He turns to his allies.
Surely there are a vast number of considerations regarding the parameters of our task which we must analyse! What do you think?
The alchemist is wearing his backpack and handy haversack, ready to head out as soon as the group's curiosity is sated.
"When you say 'malign influence' do you mean the gnolls? Or is there some other force at play?" Raikdar asks David.