"Are you with the other visitors?" She nods towards the door he has just exited from. She gives him an appraising look. "I like your arms. They must come in useful."
"I am indeed with the other... visitors." He seems somewhat amused to be considered a visitor, when he considers himself at best a very reluctant guest and at worst a prisoner. "They are indeed useful... it seems to me that only having two must be extremely inconvenient." He tilts his head. "Do you go to school? I hope I used that word correctly, I am still learning your languages. A place where they teach you things?"
"The Knights Arcane are elite troops of Aundair," interjects Cole, "specialized units combining arcane and military tactics."
He considers the situation, and the way their hosts continue to refuse to answer questions. "You ask us to share our intel ... intel no one else has to offer ... in the same breath that you speak on the importance of being careful with intel." He shrugs, "And you still offer us no direct answers to our own questions."
The warforged pauses then shrugs, "We have what you want, and we are unconvinced you are our actual allies. You said it yourself, you've given us reason to be distrustful. Show us we can trust."
"To answer your rather... trivial and self-centred questions," says Rilik, "I would have thought it was quite obvious why you have been brought here. But if you insist, I will spell it out. You were standing in the middle of an experiment run by the Lords of Dust when the arcane machine they were running activated. It would seem that the intention was to suppress the binding wards with a powerful necromantic pulse. So, by rights, you should all be dead. But you aren't. Instead, it seems you were protected by the wards and granted a vision.
"The nature of the Silver Flame is a subject of great debate. At a certain level, it is just a natural phenomenon." The shulassakar shift uneasily as Shanquo says this and he waves a hand in their direction. "I understand your religious views, good folk of Krezent. The Flame also shows volition and intelligence, and is considered by many to be a divine entity. And who am I to disagree with that? But what is clear is that the Silver Flame saw fit to protect you from certain death, and there is presumably some sort of reason for that."
"Very few have interacted in such a way with the Silver Flame since Tira Miron," says Ulramis reverently.
"Quite," says Rilik, "Though what the entity or entities that are the Silver Flame saw in you is, at this point, somewhat mysterious. That is the real question - what was the Flame trying to achieve?
"As for why you weren't told where you were going, this should also be obvious. So no one else would know in Qbarra. As far as the Lords of Dust are concerned, you are no-account adventurers who died. The longer they continue to believe that, the better. So we got you here as quickly as possible and kept your destination secret for your own protection to prevent the information leaking. Because once they learn of you, and what happened to you, they will become extremely interested in you."
Ulramis sighs. "Young man," he says wearily to Wultram, "You do not know who - or rather what - you are dealing with. If these two seem far removed from your concerns, it is because they are. But that does not mean that your interests do not coincide."
Rilik raises his eyebrows and looks at the shulassakar. "Are you about to give away our secrets, High Priest Ulramis?"
"Given your general incompetence in interrogating anyone under the age of four-hundred," answers Leshlec, "I think it is necessary to provide our guests with a proper understanding." He looks at the group. "These two are agents of the Chamber."
She brightens up. "My name's Peri. Are you talking to the other visitors? The big one ignores me, but the little one says hello sometimes."
Tal nods. "All jobs are important, without tailors, nobody would have clothes. However, there is nothing wrong with wanting to do a job you enjoy." He takes out his holy symbol, and bows his head, holding out one hand to touch the girl's head as he prays. When he is done, he casts Bless upon the girl. "I have asked Dol Arrah's blessings upon you, and for her to look out for you. If it is her will that you be a protector, I am sure it will occur. However, no matter what your fate is to be, I have asked her to watch over you." He puts the holy symbol away. "As to the 'visitors', I have not been able to see eye to eye with them, and have decided that speaking to them is not something worth wasting my time with." He moves his head so his eyes are level with the girls, showing he has seen eye to eye with her. "Between you and I, they do not seem all that friendly."
He leans back up, crossing his arms. “You have given us more words. I have learned things in this room, but it may be intel Nalverren and Wultram could have found by researching at a university. Take us to see these wards. Or give us your personal oath, each of you, that you fight for what we fight for. Or find some other way to show us that you mean to support our cause. Until then, it is just words.”
Ulramis says, "You have been touched by the Silver Flame, and have conversed with it. This makes you tantamount to holy in the eyes of my religion. On that basis, there will be no torture!" He glares at Shanquo, who shrugs. "I'm afraid I cannot really show you anything regarding the wards, they are more metaphysical than apparent. But I can give you my word, on the Silver Flame, that we did not bring you here to harm you. We sincerely wish to know what you experienced and why, because it is doubtless of great significance."
"They wish something from me, but lied to get it, and then insulted us. So they are lying about their forms?"
Tal tilts his head as Wultrum storms out, and shakes his head. "I see I was not mistaken that talking was a waste of time." He comments with a chuff. He does find it oddly amusing that he and Wultrum see eye to eye on something for a change. Seeing the mage's rage, however, he lets the man go to vent. Turning to the child, he warns her. "You should avoid Companion Wultrum until he no longer looks like he wants to bite someone in half."
Once again the elf is on his feet, this time he moves to Cole's side.
"Easy. Swords are our weapons. Let Nalverren fence with words." The elf stays standing by the warforged's side, but turns to face the table. His hands rest on the hilt of his curve blade whose tip is grounded on the floor in front of him.
Tal ducks his chin. "I suspected as much, as I told Rehil earlier. You and I may not get along, or agree on much, but I have faith in your desire to keep breathing, and your ability to see through lies." Tal chuffs in amusement. "Agreed though, details on the... annoying ones... are not for the ears of the young and impressionable." He gives the girl a playful rub on the head. "Once the others are done with the farce, we should regroup, and make useful plans."
"Not especially," says Rilik. "So, what have we learned?"
"Well, we know that at two of them are very easily manipulated. A bit of casual hazing and they storm out. People driven by their emotions tend to do stupid things, and will be easy prey. Given the situation, that isn't good."
"Agreed. And at least one of them seems to consider the basic precaution of dissembling beneath his high-flown morals. Which shows a distinct lack of perspective." Rilik looks at the remaining adventurers. "You are still here, which is one good thing. So perhaps you can understand what is going on here?
"Your two colleagues stomped off because we weren't nice to them. I can assure you that we are much, much nicer than the Lords of Dust. Your two friends outside need to reconsider how they operate or the Lords of Dust will eat them for breakfast - quite possibly literally as well as figuratively. They need to grow up, and do it quickly. In the end, if you want to walk out of here, no one will stop you. You think relics from the Age of Demons will grant you that right?
"Because we are talking about a potential catastrophe of global proportions. If they really have found a way to shut down the Silver Flame, there will be things creeping out of Khyber that will make even your big bad trainee necromancer out there run for his mother. Frankly, I'll bruise a few childish egos if I have to to prevent that. Maybe you don't like being lectured? Well, sorry, but may ancestors were fighting wars in the Age of Demons when your ancestors were still grooming each other in trees. I've got much more form in this game than any of you. Like I said - perspective.
"And it is also important to realise that you really have very few good options here. Your choices narrowed dramatically when you found yourselves in Da'sheth when that magical bomb went off with you next to it. Some of you don't like that dose of reality, but it really doesn't matter what you think about it now. It happened, and now you are in the game whether you like it or not. You cannot escape your fate now. You can only try and shape it.
"You go it alone if you want to, but it will be much harder than doing this with us. Harder, as in probably fatal. We bring resources to the table that you simply couldn't access. And we can, to some extent, protect you.
"But you also need to get real. Frankly, dealing with people who think their self-esteem is more important that the future of Eberron gets old pretty quickly. If you want to walk, you can. But it will be much better for you long term if you become part of the solution, instead of part of the problem."
Rilik finishes his speech and waits for an answer.
Tal tilts his head. "Dragons? Well now, that changes things. I'd have been more insulting if I'd realized they were dragons in disguise." He chuffs in amusement. "Young one, let me tell you a true story. In days long past, the great noble dragons banded together with the younger races to fight against the creatures of Evil. The war raged for generations, dragons died, some races died out completely." He pauses, sighs, and continues. "At the end of the war, the wisest of the Dragons and the Younger Races worked together on the Great Ritual, to bind the creatures beneath the world behind a silver flame. The gods themselves aided in this ritual. As the ritual began, the Great General Ancient Orzaxes, a truly ancient red dragon full of wisdom and order, looked down on the creatures of the Rakshasa, and saw that they would escape the binding if something was not done. Great Orzaxes took wing, with only a foolish young healer to help him, and fought the great evil to a standstill. The fight lasted only a short time, although to Orzaxes, the fight was long and fraught with peril. Tal tells of spells and attacks, of dodging tentacles and blasting evil flesh with flames, and of the great words Orzaxes flung against the evil, rebuking it. " Finally though, the ritual was complete, and the silver flame came for the creature, burning it's flesh and forcing it into the depths. With the last of it's strength, it lashed out and killed Great Orzaxes. Thus did the wisest of the dragons die, saving the rest of the world." Tal finishes the story. "Now, there are two things to remember about dragons. Dragons fought to save the world, and we owe them thanks for that. But, it is important to also remember, that dragons fought WITH the enemies as well. Not many, but some were traitors. While we all owe the Dragons our thanks, even the Dragons know that there are those among them that are unworthy of admiration or praise. True wisdom is determining which dragons you can trust, and which you can't." He glances toward the pit the girl indicated. "Is the chasm off limits? Or may anyone travel into it?"
Tal tilts his head thoughfully. "I am willing to be persuaded... on the latter point at least, we agree to disagree on the former." He chuffs. "You are still one of the.. gilded eyed? Do you use that term nowdays? When it comes to spotting fools and liars."
"Back to the resources. You'd natually only offer those if you planned to employ us and were vested in our success. What would you have us do? You see what I am working with here. A lot of people blustering and storming about, and a few that are willing to see what'll happen."
Tal touches his sword with one hand. "Where your words do not fit is, the sword does not pull itself out of it's sheath and attack random strangers, be they enemies, allies, or innocent children, if I am unconscious or dead and unable to exert my will over it to stop it from doing so. This cannot be said to be the same for your creation. If you die, it will begin to attack everything around it that is alive. Also, this sword is not inherently evil. I can probe it for evil intentions, and find nothing. Your creation, however, is inherently evil. When one can see evil, it is very hard to argue that evil does not exist. Creating a sword merely creates potential for both good and ill. Creating evil only creates certainty for evil."
He begins studying each of those across the table, trying to get a feel for their openness.
Tal nods his head. "I know your belief on this, you've stated it before. It is why I had faith that you would see through the self deception that the dragons bespake, for you live and breath it yourself, and therefore are an expert at seeing through it, at least in others. Evil is evil, Good is good. Yes, there are actions that are neither inherently good or evil, and there are actions that can be good or evil depending on the circumstances. I have never argued other. There are some things, however, that are always Evil. Perverting the natural order is always Evil, and summoning ravening Evil into the world, even if you control it for a short time, and perform some actions that, by the taint, become 'gray', is still Evil. However, the gods have set us to work together for the duration. I assume because they see something in you worth salvaging, and hope that I will be able to redeem you. Or at the very least, feel that you should have the chance of being redeemed, so until their will is manifest, so long as you control your Evil, I will simply guard against it's being unleashed." He chuffs softly.
"Alright." Shanquo gets up and walks to a spare space in the room. "High Priest Ulramis normally prefers us to be in non-draconic form in case we break the porcelain, but here goes." Shanquo's form seems to flow and expand. He drops to all fours and continues grow. Wings unfurl from his back, and in a few seconds a dragon about the size of an elephant with scales of iridescent blue is crouched in the room. the air crackles with static in its presence. "I hope this suffices," it says in a more gravelly version of Shanquo's voice, "There isn't much room in here." It then begins to shrink again, and soon the gnome is back in it the dragon's place.
"So," says Rilik, "We've shown your ours, time for you to show us yours. We can equip you, transport you, and provide you with advice. But we need to know everything that you can remember about what happened up on Da'sheth."
"Well, it is a story I'd think many wouldn't believe, but you seem like the open-minded sort..."
Pausing, Tal turns back to the girl. "Sorry, my companion and I often forget others are around when we discuss philosophy. The chasm?"
Tal gives Wultrum a look. "So, not forbidden, just dangerous. I think it might be a good idea if we get the others and go visit, it may give us a clue." He digs in his pack and pulls out another apple and gives it to the girl. "Thank you, little one."
“I’m not sure what we could show you,” he interjects, “at least I don’t think I can change into anything other than what I am.”
"Yes. And the dragon, of course."
"Yes." Rilik and Shanquo exchange a look, before Rilik turns to the adventurers. "The dragon you met sounds like an associate of ours who was based in the Lhazaar Principalities. I assume he attempted to infiltrate the mercenaries and was captured.
"And is now dead," says Shanquo soberly, "Or worse."
"Quite. But what about those other names - do they mean anything to you? Faeoli, for instance?"
Shanquo pulls a face and shakes his head. "No. But the other one, Targryn. There was a Cannith artificer based out of Eston by that name, something of a prodigy. Interested in organic-mechanical interactions, grafting warforged parts on to living bodies. Some of his research was carried out on subjects who were less than willing and he had to go to ground. Apparently there was a Sentinel Marshall's warrant out on him, but after the Day of Mourning that was all rather moot. No one ever heard if he survived or what happened to him."
"Hmm, interesting." Rilik looks at the assembled group. "So, how do we proceed?"
"Now THAT sounds like an interesting piece of research. So on to what you expect of us, and what we will be paid."