Anaxian's intelligent Phylactery, the very first splinter of the fractured worm's soul, burned an enchanted scale inside it's trans-dimensional housing.
Then he did it again, refining his search.
The legends about House Shraen were cryptic and took just over two months to pour though. By the time it was finished though, the hate-filled little soul knew nearly everything there was to know about the Drow House who'd made the mistake of bringing themselves to Anaxian's attention.
[dice=Kn. Nobility]1d20+14
Anaxian sent a Sending to their resident Spymaster.
"Find out whatever you can on the Drow House Shraen. They are attempting to influence our diplomacy with the ghoul city."
Then he set his Twisted Core on the same task, scrying for deeper knowledge.
Next, Anaxian sent the Catsuit, possessed by his familiar, to the site of Meridian's half-finished Cathedral.
Green eyes looked up at the Drow priestess. It opened it's mouth revealing the end of a scroll.
When she took it and pulled it out of the cat's throat, it read-
House Shraen has contacted me. They are attempting to influence our diplomatic relations with the ghoul city.
The larger Anaxian had ben busy. While he waited for the information on the area's geothermal activity to come in, he busied himself with the city's defensive position.
The city lay against the back wall of a natural crevasse at the junction of a number of underground fissures. There were simply too many ways in and out. It was a hub.
They did not want to be at the middle of the hub. They wanted to be just off it, where they could see it but not be in it.
So, Anaxian diverted a number of fissures so they connected further back and away from the city, creating one central "road" leading in, rather than three large paths, and bunches of smaller ones.
He scouted every tunnel and crack, sealing up the ones that served no purpose, or diverting them back to more main routes.
By the time the month was up, the passage in front of the city was a clear, wide tunnel that went forward for more than a mile before it split into other directions.
Anyone attempting to siege the city would need to come at them head on, or be able to bore through stone.
Anaxian, meanwhile, cranked out a few dozen simple Alarm traps, set to notify him telepathically if they were triggered.
He gave them to his larger counterpart and had him set them into the stone as he moved though it.
They created a sphere of early-warning that would let Anaxian know if something was burrowing through the stone, and what direction it was coming from.
Next, Anaxian sent the Catsuit, possessed by his familiar, to the site of Meridian's half-finished Cathedral.Green eyes looked up at the Drow priestess. It opened it's mouth revealing the end of a scroll.
When she took it and pulled it out of the cat's throat, it read-
House Shraen has contacted me. They are attempting to influence our diplomatic relations with the ghoul city.
Meredian recognizes the undead cat and raises an eyebrow when it presents the scroll via its mouth. Not wanting to stick her hand in the catsuit she telekineticly calls the scroll to herself and reads it.
Know nobility perhaps with a DM bonus since I am a drow noble.
After reading the message Meredian quirks a wicked little smile. That idiot has no idea the hornets nest she just kicked over. "
"Just a moment. " she says to the catsuit. "I have a reply."
She scribes a bit on the same paper, telekinetically rolls it up and floats it in front of the cat. The cat summarily steps forward and "swallows" the scroll as Meredian looks on with a combination of facination and a touch of disguist. Then the cat unceremoniously turns and leaves.
Anaxians Note:
"As this is the first time this kind of thing has happened I recommend an over abundance of overkill with extreme prejudice. If we move in force and level her house to the ground it's unlikely another house would pull this kind of crap anytime soon. Plus it'll be fun. "
The return message a while later, again delivered by cat, read-
I believe it was a specialized Sending delivered to "Liches in the area" or something of that sort. I will need to check with Jiator to confirm. It is entirely likely that this person does not know exactly who received the message.
The return message a while later, again delivered by cat, read-
I believe it was a specialized Sending delivered to "Liches in the area" or something of that sort. I will need to check with Jiator to confirm. It is entirely likely that this person does not know exactly who received the message.
Response-
Should it matter? They know they sent it to our city and they presume to meddle in the affairs of dragons, so to speak. They don't seem to understand the mistake they've made. I say we make an example of them. Obliterating their house then their bloodline sounds like a fine start.
Dris spends the next several hours talking to the various patrons of the tavern along with the bartender. He buys drinks as needed, trying to learn what he can about his mortal life.
When he gets Anaxian's sending he replies "As soon as I am done here, I can go and investigate the city, if you so desire. Would it be so bad to ally with the Drow over the ghouls?"
Drisquar:
The Undertaker's is, according to its patrons, one of the finest and longest-standing brewhouses in all of Taldor. The current barkeeper, a dark-skinned dwarf, claims that the building has been in his family for a thousand years; the original owner, as depicted in a faded and sooty tapestry, appears to be a one-legged dwarf with highly cartoonish features sitting next to a mug of beer the size of a keg.
Jiator and Sir John confirm that they received a similar message to Anaxian. Apparently the spell was generally targeted. The two liches have heard little of Shraen—a power that has apparently arisen during the millennia of their imprisonment—and leave such negotiations up to the party, who are a bit more worldly in such things.
The Crimson Stranger, in her role as ambivalent Grand Diplomat, declines to offer much opinion. But she does inform that she approached them once, several years ago; their path to undeath was driven by sacrifices to Urgathoa, not study of the Whispering Way, and they were then uninterested in any contact or alliance.
Month 3, Week 2:
Sure enough, six days after the Sending spell, an emissary arrives in the city; but it is a curious thing, a silk banner bearing a stylized skull and maggots, the holy symbol of the ghoulish demon lord Kabiri. The banner twists and turns, flying an illusory wind, as fin-shaped tassels on all sides stabilize and guide it.
Arriving outside the Escarra town hall, the banner drifts towards the ground, and a tall man steps out of it. His features are Elven, but not Drow, and his clothing is fine velvet, with geometric patterns chewed out of the sleeves and tails by some sort of small creature. He coughs, bows, and then telepathically calls out to the city, requesting a meeting with any in positions of power.
When he is granted an audience, the emissary, now wearing his banner as a cloak, introduces himself. He is Giorsciu, a diplomat of Nemret Nektoria, sent to treat on his city's behalf. Apparently, in his words, his ghoul masters "accepted your tribute." Nemret Nektoria is a mother state, protecting all of Sekamina's ghouls; its masters would be happy to offer their aid and protection in return for the right to collect a tithe from any ghouls or other carrion-feeding undead who may settle in Escarra.
And then, of course, he waits
Sitting around a large table with the other council members and the emissary, Meredian listens to his prattle patiently. Then when he stops talking for a moment Mer turns to whomever happens to be to her left, pointedly not speaking to the diplomat,
"What the hell tribute is he talking about?"
We sent them an envoy on our way here from our last mission. We were passing by Nemret Nektoria and sent a diplomatic missive by way of undead courier. As they are our closest neighbors it seemed prudent. They must have considered the undead a tribute." Anaxian said, sounding a little amused.
Huh. They do sound a little full of themselves.
We can at least hear what they have to say. It should be entertaining if nothing else. Anaxian said, flapping up onto Meridian's shoulder to assume his diplomatic guise as her familiar.
Shall we?
We sent them an envoy on our way here from our last mission. We were passing by Nemret Nektoria and sent a diplomatic missive by way of undead courier. As they are our closest neighbors it seemed prudent. They must have considered the undead a tribute." Anaxian said, sounding a little amused.
Meredian shrugs, "Sure. Why not?"
To the emissary, "Out of curiosity, by what right would you presume to hold any authority over our sovereign citizens? Do you claim some sort of ownership of those you share similar biology, or lack therof, with? This isn't accusatory, mind you. I'm legitimately curious what the thought process is. By this same logic could I require tithes from all of elven blood in your city? Could one of our liches recurve tithes from your Liches? Explain so we can assess its validity. "
This is no ghoul; Nemret Noktoria, it seems, prefers to use less-rotten and finer-smelling vampires as its emissaries.
This is no ghoul; Nemret Noktoria, it seems, prefers to use less-rotten and finer-smelling vampires as its emissaries. Based on its method of arrival, this one seems to be a reasonably-powerful psychic vampire.
"All creatures should acknowledge their maker," the emissary responds, clearly reciting a practiced argument. "That is true of the Everglut, and the Darklands. It is by Kabiri's grace that we find eternal life in our holy city, and it is by our grace that the other ghouls of the darkness are protected and allowed to survive. But if we are to be a blessed race, we must act as one tribe—the feral ghouls of the surface and sea are closed-minded, primitive creatures, quick to ruin and damnation. Thus, all ghouls must contribute to the greater good to share in it; the High Priesthood of Noktoria simply serves to channel those gifts and worship to where they belong."
Know religion
Ugh. Religious zealots are the worst. the high priestess thinks at Anaxian
Indeed. I am beginning to think House Shraen may have been doing us a favor with their missive.
Incidentally, the diplomat is a vampire. It should be made aware that our citizens are neither food nor potential chattel. I do not believe we should tolerate poaching. If it wishes to hunt or take slaves, it will need to pay for the privilege.
I dunno, the intersection of dogma and passion makes for some great wars. And pretty buildings! Illia- doesn't seem to harsh on religious zealots.
At the council meeting, Dris sits quietly observing the emissary for anything out of the ordinary.
To the diplomat: "Would you excuse us. We need to deliberate on your ...terms. You're welcome to peruse the city with a small honor guard. Though don't go too far. We may have questions. Also, I'd like to be clear on one thing, Vampire. Our citizens are neither food not chattle. If you wish to hunt or take slaves you'll be required to pay for the privelage. Poaching will be met with swift and decisive action. Are we clear? "
When he acknowledges she waves him to be excused. And sends a few guards to keep an eye on him.
When he's sufficiently gone she says to the gathered council, "How badly do you want to deal with those lunatics? I can see this going downhill quickly if we allow them any sort of foothold. Perhaps we should just send the vampires head back in a basket. "
"I... would not feed... here," the vampire replies, looking confused. He does accept Mer's offer to go look around the city, accompanied by a chaperone.
Drisquar notices nothing too suspicious from the vampire, although he does note that the emissary's cloak no longer ripples as though in an invisible wind.
"Nah, we're not ready to deal with them decisively. While we could probably beat them down, we've got more important things to be doing and they'd wreck the city again before we finished them all off. Besides, it'd be no fun if we didn't have any colorful neighbors to spar with. War can be another form of art, and it'd be a pity if we didn't have any canvas."
So, we need an appropriately diplomatic stalling tactic...
We have negotiated a treaty with the Church of Asmodeus which gives them an exclusivity clause regarding religious activities in our city. This "ghoul tithe" is, by their own admission, religious in nature.
I recommend we pass this envoy off to Mal and Ambassador Phistophilus. We can let them argue over whether this tithe violates that exclusivity. If the vampire manages to convince the devils to allow the tithe, we can revisit the issue ourselves. Until then we can simply claim that we cannot risk violating the terms of our other treaty.
Illia-'s eyes widen a bit, "I thought they turned down that offer."
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"Oh, while we're here, I've been meaning to talk to you about proto-me. I feel bad for holding out on you, especially when you're the one who can do the necromancy stuff in the first place and I owe you a favor... So I was thinking, is there any way for us to share? You've got that mind swapy thing, and I want to try playing around with dragon-me's body at least once, so does it work on people other than you? And getting her memories would be nice too, even in like, book form, if that's possible. But I really want to just see what it'd be like."
To be a dragon? Or to be that particular dragon? The former is easy. The latter, doable, but more complex.
As for gaining her memories, that is also doable, but very much more complex. Do you have much experience working with magic items not designed for you?
"That particular dragon. I'm a bit sentimental about it being the body I once had. Aaaand, nope. But I'm lucky, I'm sure it'll go well!"
There are limitations. I could animate the body, and you could possess it in much the same way I do my various hosts. However, that will be the animated body of a dragon. it will not be her true strength. In order to actually have the feeling of being her, she would have to be brought back to life and possessed. A dangerous thing, given her power. She will fight back, so restraining her before resurrecting her will be necessary. Dragons of her magnitude are quite resistant to magic, and you would be working from scrolls or other lesser magics. Your odds are not especially good. There are some preparations that could be used to increase the chances of success, but it will still be an unreliable thing. The last part, gaining her memories, will involve bringing her back to life also, again with the restraints to hold her. Then you will need to possess our old friend the Mayor, and eat her while she lives.
I'm fine with the options tithe. If they set up a small church theyll have to follow the rules or
Be immediately booted out. As the high priest I imagine that'll be my call.
To the council privately then to the diplomat if their is a quorum of agreement
"I propose the followIng: They will be permitted to request a tithe from our flesh eating undead citizens. Though in no way will they be permitted to demand such and nor will we do so. This tithe will have to be based on their ability to convince that population. Further they'll be permitted to set up a modest embassy or temple at their discretion to facilitate this tithe process. However, the Noktorian population facilitating this is not to exceed 100 at any given time in our city. Naturally like any other inhabitant they'll have to follow local laws regarding creation of spawn and feeding while they are here. "