Ri'Kli'Klek |
"Are we become so few?" Ri'Kli'Klek responds to Ehawee, sadly. "Are the great cities of the Tohr fallen, the clans of the Thri dead? We are, by nature, obligate carnivores. Little can we eat of plants, and so we have not taste for them."
Turning to the Drakes, he says, "It is not my thought to leave a Defiler active behind us, if perhaps we might destroy it. Who knows what death and waste he might wreak while we were absent?"
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
"Are we become so few?" Ri'Kli'Klek responds to Ehawee, sadly. "Are the great cities of the Tohr fallen, the clans of the Thri dead? We are, by nature, obligate carnivores. Little can we eat of plants, and so we have not taste for them."
Turning to the Drakes, he says, "It is not my thought to leave a Defiler active behind us, if perhaps we might destroy it. Who knows what death and waste he might wreak while we were absent?"
The weird elf laughs in an irritating pitch,
"Oh, by no means. To the west of our current location, beneath the precipitous drop of the Savage Cliffs, lies the Great Empire of the Tohr-Kreen. Its dimension are at least ten fold greater than that of the Tablelands, and its population at least a hundred fold greater than that of the Seven Cities. And yet the sorcerer-kings continue their pitiful internecine struggles, one with another, for the rule of this miserable stretch of desert, while the cold will of the Priests of Change who rule this great western empire hungrily eye the realms to the east, seeking new living space for their endless millions of subjects."
Hamza Mīnakshi |
"I agree with my Kreen companion. Defiler or not, leaving a known enemy alive and at your back is a poor idea at best. Especially one who is fully aware of you. If you believe we aren't currently capable of destroying the wraith Kreen on our own, perhaps you could lend us your aid and power?" Hamza says, addressing both the Noble Drakes and the druid.
Diplomacy, 20(Skill God)+21 = 41
Sebecloki |
"I agree with my Kreen companion. Defiler or not, leaving a known enemy alive and at your back is a poor idea at best. Especially one who is fully aware of you. If you believe we aren't currently capable of destroying the wraith Kreen on our own, perhaps you could lend us your aid and power?" Hamza says, addressing both the Noble Drakes and the druid.
Diplomacy, 20(Skill God)+21 = 41
Ito inclines his head,
"Very well, I offer the following guidance Hamza of the House Mīnakshi. Know that I have not ventured to face Kchac'Thraa the Inimitable within his present demesne. When I and my royal charges originally drove the wraith and his minions from this grotto, we did so by means of surprise and the additional aid of my two animal companions, both of whom are presently at rest.
"However, it appears that the wraith has considerably increased its own forces since this event."
"The metal scorpion you have just defeated is, to my knowledge, only one of many similar servants that Kchac'Thraa now possesses."
"Indeed, I believe that, since his expulsion, he uncovered a cache of ancient automatons and other wonders long since departed from Athas."
"Many of his myceloid servants wield wands that emit powerful rays which are capable of annihilating even the most powerful of combatants. I have witnessed through my own arcane auspices the fungoid creatures utterly devastate a large company of intellect devourers and their morlock servants, both of whom I assume quickly came to regret their attempt to explore the Tomb of K'la-Tra-Yi the Opener of the Ways."
"In addition to several more representatives of the scorpion-like automaton you just faced so adequately, the wraith can command another that has the shape of a centipede and can encompass foes with a hundred attacks at a time. It is most deadly."
"The wraith possesses powerful magics, as well as a caustic aura caused by his command of defiling magics. It corrupts and empowers its myceloid servants, and is lethal even in minute exposure to enemies."
"Kchac'Thraa also numbers in his entourage a number of additional incorporeal undead, presumably his apprentices. They likely possess similar powers as their hateful master."
"I would not attempt a frontal assault on the wraith. Doubtless it has now prepared its defenses, and will be field a half dozen or more of its mechanical servants, alongside abundant fungoid guardians and its wraith like proteges. It will be an extremely difficult melee, even for those of such abilities as your own."
"If we were to assist, you, I would expect us to adopt a suitable plan of battle, and for none of my company to be used or expended as canon fodder to cover your own assault."
Rokan the Ascetic |
Rokan frowns at the forming plan.
We're informed of portals that may lead us into the ruins of Kalidnay, and we wish to instead assert authority over the Myceloids in this place? When we passed by them they asked for our assistance because they needed it. They cannot take this place alone and so I suspect it will remain safe from them for some time. The influence of sorcerer-kings advances and does not wait as innumerable denizens of this labyrinth take note of our passage.
He looks around at the group to see if any are agreeable with his sense of urgency.
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Hamza turns to address Rokan's concerns "You are correct, in that it would seem the *defiler* can not successfully assault this grotto on it's own. However, are you assuming the *defiler* is trapped and unable to attack us, once we leave? Because that seems like a grave potential miscalculation on your part, master monk. It is not the Myceloids that I worry about, it is their master that is our foe. The *defiler*." Each time he says it, the assassin emphasizes the word 'defiler' to drive home his point.
Amunet-Ra |
Standing aside with arms folded, Amunet-Ra only adds:
Once you are done with the talking we could start our work and get rid of that defiling kreen. Most likely he is into sacrificing and eating elves as well. I can't tolerate something like that so close to my tribes territory.
Sebecloki |
Standing aside with arms folded, Amunet-Ra only adds:
Once you are done with the talking we could start our work and get rid of that defiling kreen. Most likely he is into sacrificing and eating elves as well. I can't tolerate something like that so close to my tribes territory.
The booming feminine voice of the True Drake princess Chanthavy-Chanvatey the Diamond Blossom of the lost city-state of Yaramuke again reverberates within the collective minds of the Company of the Broken Tablet,
"You must be of one mind and will if you resolve to face Kchac'Thraa the Inimitable."
Ri'Kli'Klek |
"To plan is also work," Ri'Kli'Klek reproves Amunet-Ra. "And plan we must, given the defiler's forces. Given the forces arrayed, we must find a way to either isolate the defiler or defeat his forces in detail. We have seen the way we came from his location to here. Are there ways here to strike from an unexpected angle? Or might one of ye possess such an ability?"
Rokan the Ascetic |
I have no miscalculation master Hamza, in fact I have no particular calculation at all about the power of this defiler. I only calculate our relevance to him, which would seem arbitrary at this point with the necessary portal within our reach. However, it would seem that my position is not with the weight of the group, who believe the sorcerer kings can wait, although they themselves do not. Very well.
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Addressing Ito, Hamza replies to the druid's information "I believe I might have a way to help us destroy Kchac'Thraa the Inimitable. However, it will require an agreement with yourself and your two noble charges. If we're able to defeat the wraith kreen, will you allow House Mīnakshi access to the network of portals within this scared grotto?"
Unsure if I need another diplomacy check, but it would be a 41 + 1d6 ⇒ 5 mythic surge for a 46 total, if necessary.
Sebecloki |
Addressing Ito, Hamza replies to the druid's information "I believe I might have a way to help us destroy Kchac'Thraa the Inimitable. However, it will require an agreement with yourself and your two noble charges. If we're able to defeat the wraith kreen, will you allow House Mīnakshi access to the network of portals within this scared grotto?"
Unsure if I need another diplomacy check, but it would be a 41 + 1d6 mythic surge for a 46 total, if necessary.
Ito mused on the question pointedly,
"Well, I know nothing of this House Mīnakshi, or its intentions. What would be the design of your association should I allow its passage through the grotto's portals?"
I think this wasn't clear, but is an important point for these negotiations. Ito is part of a criminal organization of barbarians, bloodragers, druids, hunters, rangers, shifters, slayers, and other wilderness classes that controls territory in the ruins of Yaramuke, and has an alliance with the awakened drakes that used to rule the city. The tattoos are based on the Japanese Yakuza, and the name of his group is an ancient khmer rendering of the term 'Triad', which refers to the Hong Kong equivalent of the Yakuza. Hamza would be better off really pushing that angle. Instead of attempting to appear completely legitimate.
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
"I just want to be perfectly clear that I not contributing to this insane assault on the ancient wraith."
"When Rokan and myself pledged to my noble patron, the illustrious Lady Alma Bint Bar-Hammath of the Clan Astharte-Athiratu of the Merchant House Vordon of the Free-City of Tyr, as well as brokered an arrangement with Dregoth's former disciple Faalcuun the Magnificent, our first and only goal was to enter the ruins and close the Great Orrery, not to dabble in these other matters."
"I remain committed only to my first resolution. Our compact via the heroes of the Broken Tablet ensures that I will not oppose your melee with Kchac'Thraa the Inimitable, but neither will I personally participate in the carnage that will doubtless ensure."
"I will provide only guidance and perhaps what arcane assistance is within my power to fortify you for the combat, but not manifest directly to assault the enemy."
"And first and foremost I would call attention to the unique powers possessed by the species of free-willed undead known as wraiths, who are immune to most physical attacks, but are able still to attack their foes with magic, as well as their innate powers. You will need to possess a means to overcome the protection afforded by the wraith's incorporeality, in addition to that of his apprentices."
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Hamza looks at Slavathras, perplexed "I do not understand your unwillingness to actually assist us in our fight versus the the Kreen wraith. Rokan mentioned the sorcerer kings, whom I believer are all defilers. Just like Kchac'Thraa. It is an immediate, imminent threat, one that if we do not defeat, will likely become just as dangerous as the sorcerer kings, for it too is immortal. As I asked the monk, if we were to just leave this place without destroying the wraith, do you honestly believe it will not seek us out and get revenge for betraying our admittedly tentative agreement?"
As Slavathras is an NPC, I can use diplomacy against him, so that's a 41.
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Hamza looks at Slavathras, perplexed "I do not understand your unwillingness to actually assist us in our fight versus the the Kreen wraith. Rokan mentioned the sorcerer kings, whom I believer are all defilers. Just like Kchac'Thraa. It is an immediate, imminent threat, one that if we do not defeat, will likely become just as dangerous as the sorcerer kings, for it too is immortal. As I asked the monk, if we were to just leave this place without destroying the wraith, do you honestly believe it will not seek us out and get revenge for betraying our admittedly tentative agreement?"
As Slavathras is an NPC, I can use diplomacy against him, so that's a 41.
His charisma modifier (which is super high, since that's his major stat, he has a similarly insane stat spread as these PCs, except he's a higher level character), added to his initial hostility to you telling him what to do, is way above DC41 to accomplish. He'll cast some spells to help you, but he's not getting directly involved, and you can't force him to do so outside of arcane compulsion or physical violence. You have a strong party, but you can see he disappeared into shadow form every time combat happened so far, so he won't be a push over if you decide to try to fight him about the issue. Also, unless you think I'm exaggerating, here's here's a link to a thread on Charisma optimization that I used in roughing his stats that shows a way for him to have 100+ easily, and he has most of these effects in place as that's his high stat. That's easily a stat modifier above 41.
The elf cracks a rictus grin and clucks in a highly provocative manner at Hamza,
"Your silver tongue has less sheen than mine little imp! As I already averred, I may be willing to offer some arcane assistance in your preparations, but I will not personally be participating in this dreadful melee. I have already offered some significant advice to you regarding the incorporeality of wraiths and the obstacle this ability represents to conventional battle strategies."
Hamza Mīnakshi |
"All you do is hide every time we get into a fight. You are nothing but a coward! If all you do is run away from every conflict, why are you even here? You have done nothing at all even semi helpful since I joined up. Other than run your mouth." Hamza lashes back.
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
"All you do is hide every time we get into a fight. You are nothing but a coward! If all you do is run away from every conflict, why are you even here? You have done nothing at all even semi helpful since I joined up. Other than run your mouth." Hamza lashes back.
Also, I don't think I'm being a jerk here as the DM, I'm pretty sure this is consistently how I've portrayed this character for over a year now. I recall Rokan insisting they take an alternative route into the ruins because he was sure Slavathras intended to use them as meat shields.
"Just because I am blessed with the necessary abilities to avoid battle may arouse your pitiable envy, but not my concern or sympathy, little imp."
"I have traveled these and distant lands for longer than you can imagine, and the druid here has spoken arightly when he described the rest of Athas as worse than the Tablelands by every measure. No soul that has ventured as far as mine would have survived assuming unneeded risk, and I have behaved in the present circumstances no differently than I have acquitted myself in my previous endeavors."
"My council is my own, and my ultimate ends bend towards a calling higher than the present circumstances which I shall not endanger with you or any other's concerns."
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Hamza was *not* trying to tell him what to do. He merely asked why is Slavathras wasn't willing to actually fight. Hardly qualifies as telling him what to do. Also, his Cha is 42+?! Jeebus that's nuts!
Also, when Hamza replies to Ito, I hope the stuff I tell him about House Minashi doesn't clash with your ideas for both the House and Alaka in general.
Sebecloki |
Hamza was *not* trying to tell him what to do. He merely asked why is Slavathras wasn't willing to actually fight. Hardly qualifies as telling him what to do. Also, his Cha is 42+?! Jeebus that's nuts!
Also, when Hamza replies to Ito, I hope the stuff I tell him about House Minashi doesn't clash with your ideas for both the House and Alaka in general.
I'm sure your fluff for your House and Alaka will be fine.
There's more to Slavathras' backstory then I've so far revealed. He's not even really a servant of House Vordon except in a very specific contractual sense. He belongs to a weird tribe of elves who live in the Deadlands and have their own agenda(s). He's not interested in participating in combats. He's done his turn into a shadow trick during every combat, and isn't going to stop it now. As I said, I don't think I'm being a jerk -- this is pretty consistently how I think I've presented this character, who's been in the story since the first page of posts.
Ehawee |
Looking over at how it seems Hamza and the others a talking, she shakes her head. So many different things, she barely heard Ri'kli reply. However, it was true that Kreen where numerous, just not well sighted outside of their cities. Though the idea of the corrupted Kreen spirit leaves her with an oily feeling on her skin.
" I may not speak often, nor do I help overly much, but I will say this. I will not abide an evil spirit to roam. You all may not feel spirits as I do, but I can assure you of this. I will try to put it down, and will assist those doing so. While we all have our own evils, the evil dead I would say none of us want, for does that not bring the Red God back? Does it not strengthen our opponents when we fight on two fronts?"
She crosses her arms, clearly not thrilled with the idea of some of the group not fighting, but she wa determined to help.
Rokan the Ascetic |
This defiler is only an immediate threat if we neglect to utilize the portals that have now been revealed to us. That he become "as powerful as the sorcerer kings"? Quite a bold conjecture. We have a very real proven problem that we were until recently focused upon. I see no reason to divert our energy toward a problem which we insist on creating.
He then turns to Ehawee. So you say, in your narrow view of protecting these lands. The forces we already knew of threaten the entirety of Athas and would render this skirmish moot if left undeterred.
He ponders for a moment and momentarily looks around at each member of the group, attempting to hold the gaze of each for a moment as he passes them.
If necessary I and perhaps Slavathras can recount the recent observations which trouble Kalidnay, and re-instill in all of us the gravity of those happenings, and the multitude of worlds would contribute unknown horrors.
The monk has been fairly docile through most of their previous journey together, but is taking on a more stern and urgent air in the midst of the company's current decision.
Hamza Mīnakshi |
"Allow me to remind you that myself, Ri'Kli'Klek, Ehawee, Jin and Tyren all joined this group *within* these ruins. Meaning none of us are beholden to anything that took place prior to us meeting you." He says to Rokan.
Turning his attention back to Slavathras he continues "You spoke before of our compact. Perhaps I need to reiterate my oath."
"So long as your purposes and goals align with that of myself and House Mīnakshi, I swear to eliminate any who dare oppose us and seek to bring further ruin to Athas and it's mighty cities. So swears Death's Shadow."
"Kchac'Thraa opposes us. We had a tentative agreement to defeat those within this grotto, and even though it was never anything official, we did technically betray it. Even if you want to make some argument contrary to that, good luck convincing the wraith. It will seek vengeance, and if I merely walk out of here, without destroying it, I will have willfully broken my oath."
Looking again to Rokan, he asks "I have still yet to get an answer from either of you regarding if you believe Kchac'Thraa will just let us go should we leave and not pursue us."
Tyren Lourofesh |
Tyren listened to the two sides bicker, an eyebrow raising ever so slightly. It seems, then, that there isn't a general consensus on what the fate of this kreen should be. I'd say that should be death--As always.
"I'd like to remind everyone," Tyren said quietly, That we stand within ruins surrounded by the greatest proof history has given us that unrepentant defilers are the enemy." He looked around at his companions, " If we succeed here, it will be at little cost to our journey. If we fail, it will only prove we were never capable of defeating our ultimate enemies. There is little risk/reward to consider here. There are, however, well-documented reasons as to why Defilers cannot be allowed to exist. Ordinarily, I'd argue we should offer the Defiler a better path--But this one comes from beyond the grave, and yet still Defiles. For the uninitiated, the dead may pull from the Grey. It has already proven it cares not for the living, and by that measure, it should remain with the Dead. Now, it's true that ordinarily such a creature would be a difficult opponent, indeed, to slay. However, I have specialized poisons for slaying the undead. I can render it blind, unable to cast spells, with its own eldritch energies burning it inside-out, and a million other horrible fates. I cannot say
I can do the same about the droids, however, and the Kreen's apprentices are far too many for me to reliably handle before they overwhelm us. Similarly, this giant centipede may be something I can effect--But more likely than not, it's tolerant to venoms. I imagine that Jin can assist you all in overcoming the droids, but who among us is best-equipped for handling masses of incorporeal foes?"
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Tyren listened to the two sides bicker, an eyebrow raising ever so slightly. It seems, then, that there isn't a general consensus on what the fate of this kreen should be. I'd say that should be death--As always.
"I'd like to remind everyone," Tyren said quietly, That we stand within ruins surrounded by the greatest proof history has given us that unrepentant defilers are the enemy." He looked around at his companions, " If we succeed here, it will be at little cost to our journey. If we fail, it will only prove we were never capable of defeating our ultimate enemies. There is little risk/reward to consider here. There are, however, well-documented reasons as to why Defilers cannot be allowed to exist. Ordinarily, I'd argue we should offer the Defiler a better path--But this one comes from beyond the grave, and yet still Defiles. For the uninitiated, the dead may pull from the Grey. It has already proven it cares not for the living, and by that measure, it should remain with the Dead. Now, it's true that ordinarily such a creature would be a difficult opponent, indeed, to slay. However, I have specialized poisons for slaying the undead. I can render it blind, unable to cast spells, with its own eldritch energies burning it inside-out, and a million other horrible fates. I cannot say
I can do the same about the droids, however, and the Kreen's apprentices are far too many for me to reliably handle before they overwhelm us. Similarly, this giant centipede may be something I can effect--But more likely than not, it's tolerant to venoms. I imagine that Jin can assist you all in overcoming the droids, but who among us is best-equipped for handling masses of incorporeal foes?"
The vituperative elf sprays spittle as Slavathras veritably hisses his reply to Tyren,
"You wondrous plan is to poison not one, but several incorporeal entities. And how exactly do you plan to do that? I have never heard tell of a toxin that possessed the ability to afflict in-bodied beings, such as that which you shall face in yonder caverns."
Rokan the Ascetic |
He maintains his urgency in responding to Tyren.
I have just told you what the cost is to our journey, and it is not trivial. I understand our general position towards defilers, but those out there, the sorcerer kings, are racing towards world-shattering power, and this one here was unable to even enter this chamber, and challenge Ito and the Drakes to obtain access to these portals. So no, us being followed is not high on my list of concerns.
Ehawee |
Frowning at Rokan, Ehawee asks him quietly " And this is how best to stop it? Allow an enemy at our back? The sorcerer kings started each as a small threat did they not? We should stop something that could be so much worse, and yet we did nothing. How are we any better? We should fight. Put the spirit to ease!" She seemed to not really focus to much on Rokan's point, as to her the first threat was the closest threat
Rokan the Ascetic |
He quietly answers back to Ehawee, simply. I would not call his position at our back, or following us into this chamber and through a portal with ease.
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
The mysterious elf reclines his head slightly,
"Ah, but this little dilemma calls to mind the misadventures of the legendary sodality upon which we shall all sworn our oaths."
Just to remind you of the story, in case the details got hazy:
"Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."
"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."
"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."
"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."
"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."
"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or her representatives."
"One day, a haggard messenger strode into the Court of Submission..."
The elf rolls his opaque pupils in a slightly unnerving cascade, effecting an expression of at once crazed ecstasy and exasperation, the latter as if to say that clearly wasn't a major plot point you insufferable dolt."
Slavathras, also known as Silan Tilak, of the Clan of the Thoughtmakers continues his narrative,
"Know, oh my hearers, that in those days the armies of Kalidnay and Celik strove one against the other and mightily for power over the riches of the Yellow Road. Their clashes were many, and those remembered were twelve, the last of which was the stories battle of Qeteš Gitai. Here, the Scarab and Scorpion Legions of the Pharaoh Amenhersemif Tuau of Kalidnay, their hardened warriors fighting astride the lumbering great scarabs whose size exceeded that of an elephant, clashed with the cannonade of the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban's father, the Kakaɣan Yagmur Khuban. The latter's cohorts of mechanically adept Yeñiçeri inflicted devastating losses on the Kalidnayan legions even as their great siege weapons and redoubtable brothers at arms were torn apart by the Pharaoh Amenhersemif Tuau's seemingly endless forces. The two great armies fought to a stalemate, and resolved to do so no more, and erected a monumental stela to commemorate the both the Battle and the Pact of Qeteš Gitai. The two rulers resolved to offer tribute one to the other at the Harvest Moon every other year to renew the peace between the cities, and forestall the further shedding of blood."
"The messenger, according to his proclamation, had journeyed from the 'king' of Oscalgarum, a large town on the Yellow Road between Kalidnay and Celik famed for its seemingly ever blooming orchards of white apples."
"The domain of King Tarranat, the messenger explained, and in particular the hill fortress of Skeltarlim from which the orchards of white apples were surveyed, had been violated by the forces of the exiled king's son Gelboras, who had been cast out for a plot against the life of his father and older brother Osaridus."
"And so the messenger, having relayed his message to the Sulṭāna's representative in the Court of Submission, presented also the cracked tablet upon which the King Tarranat of Oscalgarum had ordered his request for aid to be inscribed to Esmeray Khuban, the ruler of Celik. In the course of his travels, the clay tablet and its envelope had been sundered by the assault of wild Oğuz Ozjolaji horse archers, a savage remnant of the Qirgünqüq Qazaqliq horde that had refused to take up permanent residence in their people's new possession of Celik."
"The emissary of the Sulṭāna observed the epistolary artifact and issued a summons to the divers peoples present in the Court of Submission, merchants, mercenaries, slavers, bounty hunters, vagabonds, minstrels, bankers, scouts, sages, and many, many others. To those that would take up the cause of King Tarranat on behalf of the Sulṭāna, they would be rewarded with a portion of Kalidnay's tribute, soon to arrive at the Harvest Moon. The ruler of Celik was inclined to offer aid, in the expectation that the greater part of the bounty garnered from the splendid white apples of Oscalgarum should be deposited in her own coffers. However, she was unable to send her own forces, lest the Pharaoh Nathifa Nes-maut Tuau, daughter of Amenhersemif Tuau, should view such as a violation of the venerable pact between her own royal father and that of the Sulṭāna."
"To the emissary's call, twelve answered, whose names are forgotten, but whose titles remain,"
"Storm Cloud, the great archer of the Niitsitapisiksikaitsitapi, who rode one of the bellowing black beasts known as the siksinááttsiwasuiáhkyaiyoa, and carried a bow that could launch a hundred arrows in one volley."
"Fleet Hands, a banished entertainer of the Sulṭāna, driven from the palace for indecorous comments regarding the ruler's husband."
"Grey Cowl the Silent, a master of the arcane arts, tutored by a sage of Celik after he was caught pilfering food from the master's tower. Though he was mute by birth, yet his numerous writings made great his fame."
"Sun Fear, the handmaiden of the blazing eye of heaven. She married the fiery miracles of her mystical rapport with the Elemental Stronghold of the Sun to the cool death issued by her twin hand cannons."
"Death Talon the assassin, a man said to be 'without a face' who lived half his life as a shadow. His was among the highest sought contract among the disputing nobles of Celik."
"Red Tusk the gladiator, a brutal man reputed to enjoy tarek blood in his veins. He was among the greatest champions of Celik's storied arena."
The healer known either as Basalm or Venom Kiss, the apothecary to the Sulṭāna's vizier, who was on occasion also an assassin."
"Three Fangs the tracker, whose blinding speed permitted him to wield three scimitars with two hands. He often escorted caravans on the Yellow Road."
"Whisper, the public identity of a mysterious masked man who represented a strange artisanal cult that venerated occult images of the deceased Qirgünqüq Qazaqliq Kakaɣans."
"Skullsnapper the pugilist, a famed brawler reputed to enjoy the advantages of troll blood who left a life of tavern combat to pursue a higher path as a concubine of the Sulṭāna's Great Harem."
"Shivers, a master of the mental arts who had perfected the installment of terror."
"And last, but not least, a traveler from the distant Kreen Empire known as the Rune Teacher, a tohr-kreen whose chitin was inscribed with elaborate tattoos, all of which produced remarkable effects."
"The Sulṭāna's emissary gathered Storm Cloud, Fleet Hands, Grey Cowl, Sun Fear, Death Talon, Red Tusk, Basalm, Three Fangs, Whisper, Skull Snapper, Shivers, and Rune Teacher in a circle around the broken tablet of the messenger from Oscalgarum."
"He spoke to them as follows:
"You are bound not by the will of the Celik's ruler, who cannot partake in this task herself, lest the Pharaoh of Kalidnay take umbrage and the Pact of Qeteš Gitai be thereby abrogated, but solely one to another in this endeavor."
"Therefore, you shall swear one to another upon this talisman -- never shall you break your fellowship as like the sundering of this tablet, lest you yourself shall suffer the same penalty. You must alone be loyal to one another and your task, not to kings, or queens, or creeds, or any other powers."
"And so the Twelve Champions swore, one to another, on the shattered tablet of the messenger of Oscalgarum. That so they should be rent themselves if they should break their troth to their fellows."
"Verily, it has come unto my hearing that, whilst plying the dusty road to Oscalgarum, the Twelve Champions of Celik came to strive amongst themselves, throwing into shadow the successful conclusion of their joint venture..."
"For it came to pass, that as the Twelve Champions approached the ancient Bridge of Kohljaegar, which crosses parched coils the Brineless Stream, all were assailed by a vision of sound and fury --- the ruination of an Urikite caravan, the high fleshy precipice of the breathing wagon's billowing enclosure dripping with fresh ichor, and the unsettling contraption exhaling heavily in the mid-afternoon heat, its minders absconded to some terrible fate and thus unable to salve its intense thirst."
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
The mysterious elf reclines his head slightly,
"Ah, but this little dilemma calls to mind the misadventures of the legendary sodality upon which we shall all sworn our oaths."
Just to remind you of the story, in case the details got hazy:
Quote:..."Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."
"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."
"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."
"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."
"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."
"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or her representatives."
"One day, a haggard
"Ah, yes, the breathing wagons narkabtum baltumbintunapistum of Urik -- there are fascinating descriptions of these entities in the records of my venerable order. The common view is that they were once a race of docile herd animals that roamed the vast region that preceded the devastated region known as the Hellscape or the Red Waste. When the mysterious cataclysm created the dark pool at the center of the Wastes and the three overshadowing massifs of the Haljōhjärta, the so-called 'Heart of Hel', these gentle herd animals were driven into the custody of the Red City's inhabitants, who have since cruelly bred and exploited them."
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Slavathras of the Deadlands wrote:...The mysterious elf reclines his head slightly,
"Ah, but this little dilemma calls to mind the misadventures of the legendary sodality upon which we shall all sworn our oaths."
Just to remind you of the story, in case the details got hazy:
Quote:"Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."
"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."
"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."
"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."
"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."
"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or
"Well, they were originally herd beasts of the Ùĝsaĝgígga plains peoples, before the great open reaches of their homeland, the Maasai Mara, was devastated by the cataclysm that produced the Haljōhjärta. These Ùĝsaĝgígga were enslaved by the Galzu people of Urik, along with their beasts of burden... but I digress..."
"The Twelve Champions of Celik were divided by their varied desires. Some wanted to punish the perpetrators of the ambush, while others wished to pass over the Bridge of Kohljaegar without further delay."
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Slavathras sighs languidly, thereby effecting to his audience the convincing representation of a feral hunting cat. He then continues the narration,
"But I digress, for you see, first among the camp of the Twelve Champions of Celik who wished to pursue the mysterious assailants of the Urikite caravan was the inimitable tracker known as Three Fangs. This enigmatic son of the lonely hills which surrounded Celik was famed for the inhuman speed of his hands, which allowed him to wield three scimitars in battle, while possessing only two sets of fingers which which to grasp them."
"Long had his wont been to accompany caravans along the Yellow Road which leads from the confines of Celik's Court of Submission to the Canopic gates of Kalidnay -- the Gates of the Baboon, the Gate of the Jackal, the Gate of the Falcon, and the Gate of Man. Thus, we wished to see the nature and end of the mysterious assailants of the Bridge of Kohljaeger, known as either Brückesteg Kohljäger or Köprüg Khövsgöl depending on the tribal language under consideration."
"And so Three Fangs set about calming the plaintive cries of the Urikite breathing wagon, the narkabtum baltumbintunapistum, and attempted to deduce from its memories the nature of its company's assailants."
"However, Fleet Hands, a master of prestidigitation who had been banished from his former imperial patron's presence for indecorous comments made about the physical equipage of Sulṭāna's ninth paramour, objected furiously to the tracker's endeavor."
""Yea, I see,"" he offered, "neither the white apples nor the ringing walls of storied Oscalgarum, and yet we have tarried herein on this man-less bridge fording and empty gulch. Let us be gone, and quickly, that the oath might be fulfilled.""
"But Three Fangs simply scoffed at the beguilers protestations. "Friend, think you that those who cut down these travelers of the Red City shall leave us in peace? Nay, we must seek them out before they find our necks. In no wise shall we pass the Yellow Road in peace, or arrive at the gates which shield the white apples of our troth, but that we set about the hunt for those who dared this savage deed."
"Gray Cowl the silent then began to fill the hot air of the steppe in the mid afternoon heat with shimmering images blazoned upon naught but wind and the absence of its passage. The signs depicted a band of savage halfbreed-tarek desert tribesmen and their cycloptic elephantaur steeds assaulting the Urikite caravan. The latter's guardsmen, even equipped with the remarkable godbeast armor and armament for which the Red City was famed throughout the Tablelands, were unable to overcome the nomadic assailants. The brigands descended upon the company and their mounts gored and savaged the breathing wagon of the Urikites."
""Yes indeed master scribe," intoned Three Fangs solemnly, "I had divined as much from the bleating beast that lies here before my eyes and under my hands." The tracker set his pair of customarily-reserved lips determinedly, daring further contest to his intention. "The caravan fell to the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, a vicious tribe of the Oğuz Ozjolaji horse archers that has interbred with the tarek of the wastes, and cultivated fell beasts such as the cycloptic elephantaurs to do their bidding. Rest assured, they shall not halt their depredations of the Yellow Road at this one outrage, nor is it certain they have not already compassed us within their hungry gaze.""
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
"And thus is came to pass that the grim scout and the loquacious illusionist persisted in their contention whist the rest of the Twelve Champions of Celik looked on in consternation and uncertainty -- in which way should their fellowship walk? In a moment further, Three Fangs had apparently lost his patience, though not his placid composure. And so the dolorous tracker gathered his mottled cloak about himself and began to follow the trail of the the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan berserkers, a fairly un-difficult task considering the immense impressions left by the passage of the half-tarek raiders' monstrous one-eyed pachyderm steeds."
""Yay, see how it comes to be for thee!"" called Fleet Hands after the scout. "We shall see what comes of it, I am sure!" Unable to reach a resolution, the remainder of the Twelve Champions continued along the Yellow Road, until the sun had descended, and they set about camp while the two moons hung in the sky above them. Still, Three Fangs had not returned, but still the assailants of the Urikite caravan had not appeared again to trouble the journey of the Twelve Champions of Celik to high-walled Oscalgarum and its storied orchards of white apples."
"Gathered around the flickering illumination offered by their campfire, Gray Cowl suddenly assumed a grim visage."
"Quickly taking notice, Fleet Hands inquired, "He hath met a unkind, has he not?" and the gray-cloaked sage simply nodded solemnly in reply. As before, the mum scribe filled the empty space between the companions with remarkable depictions of recent events. They beheld Three Fangs carefully approaching the haphazard camp site of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, where the half-breed tarek had spitted the survivors of the Urikite caravan in preparation for the evening repast. The gruesome odor of burning flesh seemed to waft from the curious nighttime mirage which had been conjured by the un-speaking sorcerer. Then, the scout set about besieging the half dozen or so berserkers then watching their place of rest. He enjoyed immediate, bloody success, for Three Fangs quickly dispatched four of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan savages with a blinding blizzard of swirling blades. Their hot blood stained the sand and steamed ominously in the heat of the late afternoon torpor. Then, the victory of the tracker was arrested by the arrival of the savages' witch doctor, so identified by the great skull which the shaman wore as a sign of his office, but more so by the strange servitor entities which circled its person. In a moment, the chanting cantor had immobilized the scout, leaving him easy prey for the remaining berserkers. The scene vanished as one of the cycloptic elephantaurs gored the tracked through the chest with an array of tusks sharper and stronger than knives..."
""And that," said Fleet Hands the exiled court jester of Celik, "is just how I had imagined the matter, and what should transpire." He said nothing for a moment. Then he offered, "luckily, I am apprised of certain reserved lore gathered from the traditions of Kalidnay, on the far side of the Yellow Road, and we may yet restore our associate. We should, I imagine, retrieve his surviving remains with all due haste on the morrow -- the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan shall have consumed most, but not all, and but a lock of hair, or a scrap of skin shall suffice for our purposes.""
Slavathras then turns to Hamza and Rokan,
"And so that is the story of how Three Fangs came to be among the dead, and yet walked again among the living. What think you of this further tale of the Twelve Champions of Celik?"
He smiles expectantly, letting show some of this wicked incisors.
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
"And thus is came to pass that the grim scout and the loquacious illusionist persisted in their contention whist the rest of the Twelve Champions of Celik looked on in consternation and uncertainty -- in which way should their fellowship walk? In a moment further, Three Fangs had apparently lost his patience, though not his placid composure. And so the dolorous tracker gathered his mottled cloak about himself and began to follow the trail of the the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan berserkers, a fairly un-difficult task considering the immense impressions left by the passage of the half-tarek raiders' monstrous one-eyed pachyderm steeds."
""Yay, see how it comes to be for thee!"" called Fleet Hands after the scout. "We shall see what comes of it, I am sure!" Unable to reach a resolution, the remainder of the Twelve Champions continued along the Yellow Road, until the sun had descended, and they set about camp while the two moons hung in the sky above them. Still, Three Fangs had not returned, but still the assailants of the Urikite caravan had not appeared again to trouble the journey of the Twelve Champions of Celik to high-walled Oscalgarum and its storied orchards of white apples."
"Gathered around the flickering illumination offered by their campfire, Gray Cowl suddenly assumed a grim visage."
"Quickly taking notice, Fleet Hands inquired, "He hath met a unkind, has he not?" and the gray-cloaked sage simply nodded solemnly in reply. As before, the mum scribe filled the empty space between the companions with remarkable depictions of recent events. They beheld Three Fangs carefully approaching the haphazard camp site of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, where the half-breed tarek had spitted the survivors of the Urikite caravan in preparation for the evening repast. The gruesome odor of burning flesh seemed to waft from the curious nighttime mirage which had been conjured by the un-speaking sorcerer. Then, the scout set about besieging the half dozen or so berserkers then...
After a pregnant abeyance of discussion, the halfling druid merely smiles sagaciously, before replying,
"That's is indeed a fascinating tale, Slavathras of the Deadlands, Mindshadow of our humble company, but it happens that I remember this little story rather differently from the account contained in the records of my venerable order. In this version, the rest of the Twelve Champions follow along with Three Fangs, and successfully ambush the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan raiders, while Fleet Hands is assailed while traveling the Yellow Road on his own, having refused to comply with the common wisdom of his companions. It is he, rather than the trusty scout, who ends up the meal of the savage half-tareks,"
Taalik's grin grows even wider,
"But in this version, no one resurrects Fleet Hands."
Amunet-Ra |
You know Salavathras, i don't mind if you stay in the shadows and do nothing. I'm already used to that and wouldn't expect anything else from someone of your tribe. You also tell nice tales, we already know that. However this isn't the time and you could come to the point more quickly.
This is the first dispute we have here, with two different opinions. Though certainly everyone agrees that we need to save Athas, our world, and prevent anyone from claiming that power as well as throw back those coming from other worlds to destroy ours. Yet i think, on the way there, we should definately remove this evil if we can. Should we not be able to, we most likely would not stand a chance at saving our world anyway.
Rhokan, i hope i can convince you. I'm afraid this shadow kreen would try to wake his ancient master if we don't stop him, what would pose yet another uncontrolable threat in our back then.
Sebecloki |
Slavathras of the Deadlands wrote:..."And thus is came to pass that the grim scout and the loquacious illusionist persisted in their contention whist the rest of the Twelve Champions of Celik looked on in consternation and uncertainty -- in which way should their fellowship walk? In a moment further, Three Fangs had apparently lost his patience, though not his placid composure. And so the dolorous tracker gathered his mottled cloak about himself and began to follow the trail of the the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan berserkers, a fairly un-difficult task considering the immense impressions left by the passage of the half-tarek raiders' monstrous one-eyed pachyderm steeds."
""Yay, see how it comes to be for thee!"" called Fleet Hands after the scout. "We shall see what comes of it, I am sure!" Unable to reach a resolution, the remainder of the Twelve Champions continued along the Yellow Road, until the sun had descended, and they set about camp while the two moons hung in the sky above them. Still, Three Fangs had not returned, but still the assailants of the Urikite caravan had not appeared again to trouble the journey of the Twelve Champions of Celik to high-walled Oscalgarum and its storied orchards of white apples."
"Gathered around the flickering illumination offered by their campfire, Gray Cowl suddenly assumed a grim visage."
"Quickly taking notice, Fleet Hands inquired, "He hath met a unkind, has he not?" and the gray-cloaked sage simply nodded solemnly in reply. As before, the mum scribe filled the empty space between the companions with remarkable depictions of recent events. They beheld Three Fangs carefully approaching the haphazard camp site of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, where the half-breed tarek had spitted the survivors of the Urikite caravan in preparation for the evening repast. The gruesome odor of burning flesh seemed to waft from the curious nighttime mirage which had been conjured by the un-speaking sorcerer. Then, the scout set about
Ito smiles as well,
"That is also, brother druid, how I remember this story. Perhaps our wise friend has been led astray by an erroneous tradition. Whatever the case may be, I am sure you have the right of it, as our paired recollections agree against the elf's account."
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:...Slavathras of the Deadlands wrote:"And thus is came to pass that the grim scout and the loquacious illusionist persisted in their contention whist the rest of the Twelve Champions of Celik looked on in consternation and uncertainty -- in which way should their fellowship walk? In a moment further, Three Fangs had apparently lost his patience, though not his placid composure. And so the dolorous tracker gathered his mottled cloak about himself and began to follow the trail of the the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan berserkers, a fairly un-difficult task considering the immense impressions left by the passage of the half-tarek raiders' monstrous one-eyed pachyderm steeds."
""Yay, see how it comes to be for thee!"" called Fleet Hands after the scout. "We shall see what comes of it, I am sure!" Unable to reach a resolution, the remainder of the Twelve Champions continued along the Yellow Road, until the sun had descended, and they set about camp while the two moons hung in the sky above them. Still, Three Fangs had not returned, but still the assailants of the Urikite caravan had not appeared again to trouble the journey of the Twelve Champions of Celik to high-walled Oscalgarum and its storied orchards of white apples."
"Gathered around the flickering illumination offered by their campfire, Gray Cowl suddenly assumed a grim visage."
"Quickly taking notice, Fleet Hands inquired, "He hath met a unkind, has he not?" and the gray-cloaked sage simply nodded solemnly in reply. As before, the mum scribe filled the empty space between the companions with remarkable depictions of recent events. They beheld Three Fangs carefully approaching the haphazard camp site of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, where the half-breed tarek had spitted the survivors of the Urikite caravan in preparation for the evening repast. The gruesome odor of burning flesh seemed to waft from the curious nighttime mirage which had been conjured by the
The elf simply grimaces furiously at the druids, his mouth set and Slavathras' eyes blazing with an undeniable fire.
Amunet-Ra |
Amunet-Ra begins to laugh at the druids remarks...
Ha ha ha, he rememberred the story wrong, or his attempt at fooling us failed, who knows. Very amusing.
Then she grows solemn again.
Still doesn't change a thing. We need to stand united and face the threats at hand first, before we can even hope to aspire to the others.
Sebecloki |
Amunet-Ra begins to laugh at the druids remarks...
Ha ha ha, he rememberred the story wrong, or his attempt at fooling us failed, who knows. Very amusing.Then she grows solemn again.
Still doesn't change a thing. We need to stand united and face the threats at hand first, before we can even hope to aspire to the others.
Slavathras' twin, yellow, cat-like eyes thin menacingly as he silently turn his ferocious glare upon Amunet-Ra.
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."
"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."
Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.
Itko Boranchakara |
Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."
"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."
Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.
The native of Yaramuke reveals an even larger grin as a collection of a dozen ethereal figures suddenly collects around the elf.
They appear to consist of: a sage with a cowl whose face is mostly hidden by the garment's deep folds -- its high precipice tips slightly at the summit, in profile seeming something like a bent mountain peak; a sombre ranger with three scimitars; a man with an enormous smile, and what appears like a kind of war paint or mime's makeup distinguishing his leering visage; a savagely-aspected warrior with an enormous axe and brutal tusks that suggest an infusion of tarek or similar species into the myrmidon's bloodline; a noble archer adorned with a streaming war bonnet, his sturdy thighs gripping the immense flanks of a bellowing land whale; a beautiful shield-maiden of terrible aspect, her gleaming eyes radiant as her armament; an exotic apothecary of some species garbed in snakeskin armament, bearing vials of assorted elixirs; a powerfully-muscled, shirtless, and hairless man, his face tattooed with the appearance of a skull, his hands wrapped in firm linen in preparation for direct physical combat; a black-garbed man with serrated blades, his chest cris-crossed by looping bands of smaller knives; a masked witch-doctor carrying grotesque effigies of horse-archer warriors; and, finally, a serious man surrounded by snapping shades.
Slavathras of the Deadlands |
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."
"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."
Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.
The native of Yaramuke reveals an even larger grin as a collection of a dozen ethereal figures suddenly collects around the elf.
They appear to consist of: a sage with a cowl whose face is mostly hidden by the garment's deep folds -- its high precipice tips slightly at the summit, in profile...
Slavathras looks with daggers before grinning with a maniacal rictus,
"Actually, my evergreen friends, I believe it is you who are mistaken. For my account of the death and second life of Three Fangs the Trackless is drawn directly from the shard of the Broken Tablet which I have already presented unto our impromptu sodality, and which was inscribed by the pen of Fleet Hands directly following the aforementioned events."
He proffers the shattered cuneiform envelope once gain to the view of all assembled,
"It would seem, then, that the records upon which you are dependent are in error, and result from the attempt of the others of the Twelve Champions of Celik to gainsay the advice of Fleet Hands which preserved their compact life and limb in totality so that they arrived whole at the menhirs which buttressed the trophy-bedecked gates of high-walled Oscalgarum."
As Slavathras completes his retort, the dozen wraith-like images slowly turn and approach Taalik and Ito.
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
Itko Boranchakara wrote:...Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."
"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."
Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.
The native of Yaramuke reveals an even larger grin as a collection of a dozen ethereal figures suddenly collects around the elf.
They appear to consist of: a sage with a cowl whose face is mostly hidden by the garment's deep folds -- its high precipice tips
Taalik is unphased as he replies,
"Again, I am afraid I cannot agree, faithful minstrel. For it is made perfectly clear in the Mahāvaipulya pūrṇabuddha-sūtra prasannārtha-sūtra, the Text of Perfect Enlightenment whose words are vouchsafed by powerful guardian spirits of the land and sky, that Fleet Hands purposefully distorted the record to which you aver, in order to magnify his own purported role in the deeds of the Twelve Champions of Celik."
In mid flight, the ghostly apparitions halt their advance.
Itko Boranchakara |
Slavathras of the Deadlands wrote:...Itko Boranchakara wrote:Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.
Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."
"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."
b]"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."[/b]
Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.
The native of Yaramuke reveals an even larger grin as a collection of a dozen ethereal figures suddenly collects around the elf.
They appear to consist of: a sage with a cowl whose face is mostly hidden by the
The Yaramuke native also smiles and nods,
"Once again, I must concur entirely with my brother greenseer in this matter. For I took have had resort to my city's translation of this document, and it confirms again his words against yours, revered tale-singer."
The twelve wraiths now turn as if in a united cue, and again drift ominously in the direction of Slavathras.
Hamza Mīnakshi |
"Perhaps, perhaps not. However, what all of you fail to realize is that I have already devised a plan to deal with our present foe, in such a way as to render his army moot, and to possibly also counteract his magicks. Thus, I do not worry that Kchac'Thraa will defeat us, leaving us for dead, nor do I believe it will take us much time. Which, is really the heart of the argument is it not? Time and again, it has been said 'we must make haste to reach our goal', so I will ask you plainly as can be. Do you think if we war with the defiler it will take hours or even days? If not longer? Are you worried this will be some protracted siege?'
He then notes the ghostly figures which obviously match those of the champions from Slavathras tale. "Neat trick, and even if they are the actual spirits of your story, they are not going to sway my decision. I leave you with this. We either strike as one against Kchac'Thraa or you and the monk go off on your own. The choice is yours."
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
"Perhaps, perhaps not. However, what all of you fail to realize is that I have already devised a plan to deal with our present foe, in such a way as to render his army moot, and to possibly also counteract his magicks. Thus, I do not worry that Kchac'Thraa will defeat us, leaving us for dead, nor do I believe it will take us much time. Which, is really the heart of the argument is it not? Time and again, it has been said 'we must make haste to reach our goal', so I will ask you plainly as can be. Do you think if we war with the defiler it will take hours or even days? If not longer? Are you worried this will be some protracted siege?'
He then notes the ghostly figures which obviously match those of the champions from Slavathras tale. "Neat trick, and even if they are the actual spirits of your story, they are not going to sway my decision. I leave you with this. We either strike as one against Kchac'Thraa or you and the monk go off on your own. The choice is yours."
"Peace, peace, and peace, friend Hamza," Taalik makes the pacifying gesture of the abhayamudrā, and open-palmed display of fearlessness in the face of hostile intention.
He then continues, somewhat insistently,
"It is doubtless the case that the matter is as I have told it, for you can see that the mind shades known as sprulpa and manomāyakāya among other titles and that guard our oath, as promised by Slavathras, have inclined in my direction when they were set upon the tale as a validation of Three Fangs. You need not worry, they are now seated in your favor, but ware' lest they turn, for their power to punish offenders of the compact is certainly great."
Ri'Kli'Klek |
"Regardless of the tale's truth, the point remains that many of us have spoken in favor of first hunting the wraith, but none have proposed a manner in which to do so," Ri'Kli'Klek points out, "Unless I have missed something of the discussion. How are we to face the forces arrayed in defense of the defiler?"
Itko Boranchakara |
"Regardless of the tale's truth, the point remains that many of us have spoken in favor of first hunting the wraith, but none have proposed a manner in which to do so," Ri'Kli'Klek points out, "Unless I have missed something of the discussion. How are we to face the forces arrayed in defense of the defiler?"
"I believe Hamza was on the verge of presenting just such a plan -- please, noble merchant, describe in more detail your vaunted strategy."
Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca |
Ri'Kli'Klek wrote:"Regardless of the tale's truth, the point remains that many of us have spoken in favor of first hunting the wraith, but none have proposed a manner in which to do so," Ri'Kli'Klek points out, "Unless I have missed something of the discussion. How are we to face the forces arrayed in defense of the defiler?""I believe Hamza was on the verge of presenting just such a plan -- please, noble merchant, describe in more detail your vaunted strategy."
"I concur with my brother druid, we should all hear this proposed stratagem."
Hamza Mīnakshi |
Hamza turns to address Ito is it Ito or Itko? "You are correct, I am a noble merchant, but I am also a noble and a merchant. As I mentioned before, what I propose is an alliance between House Mīnakshi, yourself and your noble charges. Mīnakshi is one of most ancient of all of the houses within Alaka, also known as Che'el de' Barra Velg'larns or the City of Shadow Assassins. Along with a few other noble families, Mīnakshi helped found Alaka and to this day, is considered one of the more preeminent Houses. We are indeed merchants, but our other title is Lil' Su'aco xor Nindyn Vel'uss Venorsh M'elzaren. Which translates into The Wind, or Those Who Silence Defilers in Olathooble or Shadowtongue. We are assassins who specialize in killing mages who dare use the profane arts known as defiling." He calls forth his shadowy kama, which all those present note is dark red in color. "This is Vlossu'aco or Bloodwind, the ancestral weapon of Mīnakshi, and my badge of office. I am the Nizzre' Senger or Lightning Lord, one of four lieutenants of The Wind."
He pauses, letting these revelations sink in. "Here is my offer. I can open a portal to The Black, to Alaka. I will petition Zhennuilharn Arshes or Grandfather Thunder, leader of the Wind, to lend us a contingent of assassins to help us destroy Kchac'Thraa. In return, you grant House Mīnakshi access to the network of portals here, so that we may more swiftly carry our missions of death."