"If the Flame Ghost spoke truth, then you are no longer living in mundane times. You have been blessed to be alive during the most un-mundane of times." The Kasatha responds, his voice wry in the extreme. The tone of the word 'blessed' indicates it's likely the opposite of what he truly means.
"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. So does anyone know what our next move is?"
Bokehn says quietly to Tal, "So you were there when the Silver Flame was created? I see. That was before the earliest recorded history of our species, at the very least, and probably earlier civilisations too. Emissary, if you were indeed trapped by the original ritual... Well, so much time has passed I doubt you will recognize mush of the world today. But the insights you could offer!"
Then he turns to the others. "You say you spoke with the Silver Flame, or a ghost within it? What did you experience?"
Cole had lapsed into a calmer silence since Tal’Va’Nocht’s conciliatory words, nodding to the creature and listening along to the conversation more than anything else.
As Bokehn asks for their report, Cole shrugs. “We followed the trail up into the lizard folk territory, which is where we lost a few of our numbers. We met lizard folk aggression every step of the way. At a few places, we saw evidence of lizardfolk religious sites having been disturbed. Stones pillars had been uprooted and dropped onto an airship, as far as we could tell. They carried it back to Da’Sheth, where they had set up a base of operations in the volcano. This seems to have been a main reason for the lizard folk aggression.”
He pauses to look over at Pooma, “But that is not all. The leading Chief was rallying your people to push south and drive all non-lizardfolk out of these lands. But we walked into the middle of a power-grab. Zzej used the chaos to sieze control and wipe out much of the finback leadership. By our reports, he now leads the bulk of the lizard folk braves. He seems hostile. Is he an ally of yours, Chief Pooma?”
“As to the human contingent in all of this. We do not fully know who they are, or what they fully intended. Though they were well-equipped. Airship, warforged platoons, a titan, and a combination of artificer and mage support. That’s what I saw, anyway.”
His silvery eyes cut briefly over to the newcomer before he continues. “The hut you found us in was attached to some sort of shard-covered tower with a dragon suspended from it. It was barely functioning when we found it. This was just after the military unit had evac’d the volcano camp. The dragon claimed to have been captured to enact some ritual, which was what caused the blast.” He looks over at Wultram and Nalverren for confirmation before continuing. “The team seemed to have neutralized the arcane device at one point, but it activated some kind of fail-safe.”
He pauses to remember, trying to relay the actual words from memory. “A male voice from the device said … ‘I am not so easily defeated. Master override protocol initiated.’ Then it counted down from ten. The dragon lost its nerve at that point, sir. But before everything went blank, the dragon shouted out a few names.
“Grinnersen. Faeoli. And Dolurrh.” He pauses, looking to see if anyone recognizes any of them. “I think I might have heard of the third before …” He shrugs cluelessly about the first two.
He seems uncomfortable speaking of what happened in the silver-flame-dream-death-thingy.
As Tal hears of the dragon's death, his visage becomes very grim, and not the smallest amount intimidating.
"Dolurrh is the Plane of Transference... it is where the souls of the dead go to slowly fade away."
"We found no dragon when we found you," replies Bokehn. "But we did find a smashed-up magical tower of some kind. Perhaps it escaped. Hmm..." He strokes his beard.
As he ponders, Pooma replies to Cole, "Zzej is not my ally, no. If anything, he is worse than Ylyeshshi. Zzej hates humans as much as Ylyeshshi did, but at least Ylyeshshi was stupid, which is something Zzej most certainly is not. Nevertheless, the fall of the Finback tribe will set back any plans he might have as the coalition will need to be formed anew. With the might of the Finbacks now gone, the other tribes will now jostle for power." He sighs. "More pointless bloodshed."
"Professor Targryn. The machine was either made by him or keyed to him. Do either of you recognize that name? That would tell us who wanted to blow up that dragon, that site, and us."
Turning to Wultram, Vaard inquires in Common
"I know almost nothing of the even your people call the Mourning. Did it not kill those in the area it affected? If this thing we encountered was like the Mourning, could we have survived?"
Ashshar has been eerily silent the whole time, partly surprised by their survival and its circumstances and partly because of the jasatha.
He does, though, speaks when a possible lizardfolk war is mentioned. "Bloodssshed worriesss me... our kind isssn't numerouss. I would like to help, but I feel like we are desstined to sssomething greater." he finishes with sadness.
"OK, we are heading down-river tomorrow," says Bokehn, "We need to report in, and my superiors will want to hear what happened. I guess you'll be coming with us," he says to the non-reptiles.
Then he turns to Tal, Ashshar and Vaard. "Emissary, you are under no obligation to me or my employers. But I hope you will consent to come with us and add your wisdom to our deliberations. And Vaard, Ashshar: I know you have just come home after a long journey. But will you come too? I have a feeling we will be needing your bravery."
Tal looks thoughtful, then waggles his muzzle in agreement. "Yes, I will do so. I have no commander at the moment, and no way to find out if my regiment even exists anymore. It sounds as if you have not seen one of my kind in many years. Word of my folk will be amongst the dragons, and if there were any near here, you'd have known about it. So I need to find some Dragon who's in charge of their military and find out what position I have, if any, in this day and age."
"I will continue to aid you as well, if my chief permits me."
"I will... if you promissse we will bring peace here after everything hasss ended. There'ss no point on sstaying to help here if the world endss."
Nalverren barely finishes his translation of Vaard's statement, before Rehil stands straight. His words, spoken in common, follow hard on Ashshar's.
Bokehn replies:
He swaps back to Draconic. "So what did the Silver Flame say?"
Tal looks thoughtful. "If I am following you correctly, this 'Silver Flame', which was created by the ritual, has become something that is worshipped as a god now?" He shakes his head. "How the world hath fallen, to venerate the results of a ritual as a god. I shall follow my Goddess, not a Ritual. But as to what it spake..."
The lizard closes his eyes, and thinks back. The bound will soon be made unbound. That which was made, is sought to be unmade. The slayer of Siberys must remain within the depths of Eberron. The unbinding of the Kybherspawn must not be allowed! Traveller, will you live? Will you live?!?"
"Untrusting one which I had never encountered, I refused to bind myself to it. I informed it I would do what my goddess demanded of me, whatever duty that might be. It then spake..."
"There was one who represented your goddess. But she did not talk, she fought. The world is near until cataclysm. Your spirit can meld with the me, or it can return to fight. Time is short, pilgrim. You must choose."
Tal's eyes open. "I refused to bind with this ghost of a ritual, and informed it that if my Goddess's duty demanded I return to war, I would. And then I awoke here."
"I didn't agree to anything with it, though I imagine I will play into its hand. If it is opposed to the ones responsible for that trap, then it is an ally of mine."
Cole continues to listen along, though skepticism can be read in every angle of his posture and frame. “While I … was inert, the great winged snake said many things.” He shrugs, the materials of his joints scraping and quietly grinding at the gesture. “I didn’t understand most of it.”
“Things bound becoming unbound. Things wrought becoming unmade. Slayers of Siberys needing to remain within Eberron.” His silvery eyes flicker between the people present, seeking any recognition of his words. “It said …” there’s a pause as he tries to remember, “’The Unbinding of the spawn of Khyber must not be permitted.’ Or something. Then it asked if I would live.”
Finally, he finishes, “I told it that I didn’t ask to be here, and that of course I would choose to live. Then I woke up. I don’t like taking orders when I don’t know who’s giving them or why, and I admit I feel more than a little lost in this.”
"I will not be ruled by you in this, Bokehn. We were charged to stop this unbinding. It is the price of our lives. We will decide where we go."
The elf looks to his companions. "There is much to discuss, but I feel that we must return to Da' Sheth and see what remains."
Bokehn shrugs. "Well, sure, if that's what you want. But I've got an airlift in three days down-river. So you'll have to make your own way back to Da'Sheth if you want to go it alone. Or you can come with me, and catch an airship there, and accept some Tharashk hospitality along the way. I'm pretty sure I know which way is quicker."
"If you will return us to Da'Sheth, I will go with you."
Cole groans at Rehil's suggestion. "I'd like to be done with Da'Sheth and Q'barra." He shrugs, "but I have a feeling we've yet to see the worst of this whole thing."
When the conversation switches to a language he doesn't understand, Tal simply sits and drinks the fruit juice provided from the large mug.
"I'm not sure the locals will touch it. It was taboo before, and I bet it is REALLY taboo now."
"As for wanting to go there, I don't but I'd go to Frostfell if it meant riding an airship out of here."
"I told the Flame that I wanted to live. And the Flame told me the Unbinding must be stopped. That bargain is clear and will always be with us. We will never be done with Da'Sheth now."
"But Wultram has a point. We need knowledge. He and Nalverren could seek it in the colleges of magic."
"I mean, I didn't sign a contract or anything. I am going along with their plan because 'end of the world' is not exactly the direction I want my life to turn."
Tal nods minutely in thanks to Poomba's very low murmmer of Draconic so he is not left unknowing of what is going on. His eyes flicker from one face to another, not as they are talking, but as their words are translated.
Ashshar listen to the conversation, following its points intently, but it isn't until their spirits have calmed a bit that he asks with shyness "...I don't know half the namesss you are ssaying... but I sstill think that we sshould follow Bokehn. I underssstand my lack of knowledge, and I dessire to know more of what we'll be facing."
"Alright," says Bokehn, "We're shipping out tomorrow. Those who want to come" - he eyes Rehil - "are welcome. In the meantime, you've had a tough time. Sergeant Haan here will give you some supplies and equipment for the journey." A burly half-orc soldier nods in acknowledgement.
Cole looks relieved when Rehil seems to relent, and the big warforged nods as if the matter is settled.
As the conversation shifts to gear, he turns to Chief Pooma. He holds out first the longspear, then the chief's warmaul. "Thank you for letting me use these. They served us well more than once."
It is obvious that the big warforged has grown accustomed to the hammer's weight, and is sad to give it up. "More than a few foes were crushed beneath this hammer."
Pooma shakes his head. "They are yours to keep. You have honoured the gift with your efforts for my tribe."
Tal accepts the gifts with a bow and an elaborate arm gesture that leaves those with two arms having aching joints. "My thanks."
Tal selects a balanced and finely crafted longbow that matches his strength, and takes 10 of the +1 arrows for it. He also offers several gold pieces for some additional normal arrows, if possible.
He passes on the armor and shield, he already has armor and shield of masterwork quality.
He takes a potion of cure and of repair, as well as two of magic weapon.
Vaard will accept a potion of Cure Serious Wounds if no one else wants it more. He has little use for manufactured weapons, though.
Rehil had much admired Otto's chain shirt. The elf is pleased to trade his shredded leather jerkin for something more substantial.
Nalverren looks over the supplies. Though he knew they would be a pittance in the real world, it looks like a veritable king's hoard after living in a jungle with the lizardfolk.
- a masterwork weapon
- a small supply (limited to 10 per character) of +1 arrows or +1 crossbow bolts
- a masterwork chain shirt
- a masterwork large steel shield
- two potions of Cure Serious Wounds or oils of Repair Serious Damage
- two oils of Magic Weapon