Artel scowls trying to process all the information. "Accidental God? You are obviously strangers so Kakishon has been reopened? Has that pompous bastard of an Efreeti left? Can you imagine ordering me around like a slave? ME, Nex's own master smith!"
His anger disappears immediately at the sight of the shard. "Ah, Noqual! It still grows from the Black Spire. I would have gone harvested it myself, but to be stripped of my spells by the taint of the place... too much. Yes, I have long wanted to test this skymetal."
"Shaitan? Who? Are you sure you don't wish to kill Jhavhul?"
Karethas nods, "Noqual? That IS interesting! I have heard of skymetals of course, but I did not recognize this as one. It would be fascinating to study it and it's properties...." He shakes his head, "No, let's focus on what's important."
He takes a deep breath and refocuses, "Kakishon has not exactly reopened. Rather Jhavhul has escaped but trapped us here in the process. Dilix of Nex's pleasure palace told us that Obherek, the shaitan, had an artifact in his possession that would allow us to escape. We don't know it's true for sure, but we fear Jhavhul is running roughshod all over our home and we are desperate to get back there." He pauses a moment to consider, "Actually, arms that would help us defeat Obherek AND Jhavhul would be what we truly need."
Varkata watches quietly, Comprehend languages would have been useful... Good luck, Wizard.
Kzrira listens nervously, unable to understand the odd speech that sounds more like a crackling brush fire mixed with a volcanic eruption than any language she has heard before.
Amir is struck uncharacteristically dumb at the destruction of such valuable arms and armor. He just stands there numbly.
The burning dwarf chuckles. "Dilix is shaitan as well though not as overtly ambitious as Obherak. I don't know that I would trust her though. She was only too ready to serve Jhavhul."
"If you seek to destroy Jhavhul then I will gladly aid you. I will keep one of the noqual shards to test, but the others I can turn into weapons. They are of particular use against magical constructs. Perhaps some arrowheads for your archer."
"I see your quiet friend wears one of my early works- a very sharp flaming shortsword. Do not worry. I don't want it back; I'm sure it was hard won. And your staff...I see there is life within it. But does it reside in the staff or is it the staff itself?"
"That has been my great quest. To craft a weapon or armor of such great quality that it actually lives. All these wonders-" he gestures to the splendid arms being melted down for fresh metal to reforge. "Are only raw material gladly sacrificed for another attempt at the greatest prize..."
"Ah, but I have something else that might serve- Ebon Flame". he says in an awed whisper. He moves to a pile of black slag and strikes it with his hammer. The rock shatters and crumbles away revealing a gleaming longsword. He grasps the ornate hilt holding it gingerly away from himself and black flames rise from the blade licking the hot air.
He lifts a hand for Karethas to inspect. It has ragged white scars that run down the fingers and across his bronzed forearms. "Though it resembles dark fire, it is something else entirely. It destroys fire. This blade is bane to those born of elemental fire, even myself. It is my greatest work though it has no intelligence. Three times each day it can quench mundane flame with a touch and possibly even quell magical fire!"
"If the priestess of the "Accidental God" wishes to trade, I will accept her blade as more material for my work and she may use this in its stead."
Kzrira listens as the strange fiery dwarf, glad that he has shifted from the strange tongue he and Karethas were initially speaking in to one she can at least mostly understand.
Magical arrows that are effective against creatures of fire are always beneficial. The only problem is that I can fire a quiver of arrows in but a few moments. Would you be able to craft a bow made of metal that would provide similar capabilities? I assume that you do not often work with the wood that most bows are made of. However, a bow made of metal and crafted by a master weapon smith such as yourself would be a thing of wonder, a bow that even the elven fletchers and bowyers would look at with wonderment.
Also, while my companion here seems to be struck dumb by both your skill and you willingness to melt down weapons and armor that even the greatest collector of art would acknowledge were masterpieces, only to see if you are able to craft something even finer, I believe that he is in need of better armor as his mithral shirt is a beautiful item, but simply not capable of withstanding the blows, which enemies such as the shaitans are able to met out. If your armor is only of the heavier nature, I could give him my armor, and would be honored to wear a suit of your brilliantly crafted mail, mail that would strike fear into our enemies, and awe in those not accustomed to such masterly craftsmanship as yours.
Amir suddenly stirs from his silence, the seer scale and pwoer of the operation having caused gold piece values and trade considerations flood the older rogue.
It seems there is much that we might do for one another. While this new sword is impressive I admit that I have great attachment to my others, I wonder what might be done to take that which what we have has and what we might make from this skymetal that we have...
The shining dwarf's aspect darkens considerably. "This is not some common smithy! I do not take orders!!"
Diplomacy(Aid Another): <-- with no bonus, not much more she can do
Varkata looks on the blade, her expression one of awe, whispering in common, "By the keg, this is the finest blade I've ever seen..." She shakes herself out of her awe and asks, "Karethas, what is the cost for so fine a weapon?"
When told it is a straight trade, she quickly nods, "An honour, truly, master smith," and draws her blade, offering it to him, then adding, "...though I fear we need all the help we can get in our quest... and, as my companion said, in her own rough way, we fear for the strength of our armour and shields, considering the foes we are to face, and especially now having seen the wonders of your craft."
Aid?
Karethas nods, "It is obvious that we are not in some common arms shop! That blade is not like anything I have seen, and is obviously a masterwork beyond anything available from any other craftsman. Like you, I have also never seen an item imbued with it's own intelligence. From what I understand, Tempest here is the result of a lesser Gen bound to an item of significant power. I would release her to speak for herself, but I think the heat of your forge would overwhelm her. Her experience being bound to the a weapon would probably not help you in your ultimate goal of a self aware item anyway, as much as I wish I could assist you in that regard. Regardless, my companions are not accustomed to dealing with a master craftsman such as yourself. They do not understand that they must trust such a craftsman's judgement about the best way to use the resources at hand. Similarly, they do not understand the limitations and capabilities of my own arcane craft. Your offer is more than fair, and we would be honored to use your craftsmanship to defeat Jhavhul.
The fiery smith is somewhat mollified by the priestess' appreciation and the wizard's understanding, but he scowls at the others and replies to Karethas in an elemental tongue once again.
"I have wasted enough time in talk now. The noqual is interesting, I would keep that piece to experiment with, but I do not think that it will aid me in my quest given its properties."
"I wish you success in both your goals of leaving Kakishon and destroying Jhavhul, but I have work to do now."
and with that, the legendary smith turns to his powerful servants and reaches for his tools.
Kzrira looks over at Karethas:
Any luck? Otherwise we might want to keep going as it is a bit warm in here for my tastes.
Amir nods with a casual shrug, Such is business. Nodding at the others he bows at the master smith and then gestures to leave...
Varkata reverently slips the Ebon Flame into her scabbard and inclines her head, once more showing her respect as the smith turns away.
She waits for a moment, ensuring that the smith is truly done with them, not wanting to miss anthing before turning to leave herself. "Let's be off, then. Not quite what I expected," she says, then shrugs, "though better than I feared."
She looks longingly at the finely made armour and shields, "I'm in no way ungrateful, but I must say I was hoping for a bit more. This is a remarkable weapon, but I'm still a mite worried about what we face next.. especially since I'll have to be sober."
Amir offers a chuckle at the priest, Sobriety is your primary concern? What a strange lot you Cailen folk are...
With what is a probably unnoticed bow Karethas turns and leaves with his companions.
The smith doesn't turn around, but his massive hammer pauses so that he may hear Karethas' words before he returns to his work. The adventurers leaves the fiery pit of the volcano forge and make their way back across the steaming Phoenix Bridge to the main island of Khosravi. It takes the remainder of the day to make your way safely back to the galley docked at the Waypoint near the abandoned barracks.
The ship is as you left and the great Helmsman awaits your next destination.
Karethas walks wearily onto the ship, tired not from a physical expenditure, but from the strain of leaving another fascinating opportunity for research. "To the island of Khandelwal good sir." he says with a tired voice as he sits in an out of the way corner. He pulls out his worn spellbook and begins to select spells for his next encounter.
Night falls as the great galley pulls away from the burnt pier.
Varkata asks, "Can you do that rope thing again, Karethas?"
Unless the Rope Trick is an option, and my guess is that the boat would move, while the space remained in one place, Kzrira will take the first watch. Probably have Varkata with her darkvision for the second watch, and then Amir and Karethas for the last watch so that Karethas can do any memorizing necessary.
We can also switch Varkata and Amir so that both Varkara and Karethas have the morning watch when they can pray/memorize spells.
The galley retraces it route south along the main island. Kzrira maintains the watch while the others rest. They find that the strange dreams from the palace return. The barren island reminds them now of the one they passed on the trip here though they are uncertain what the dream can mean.
It is near midnight when Varkata is woken to switch places with Kzrira. The galley clears the southern end of the long island of Kakishon and turns north up the other side.
As Varkata seeks insight Amir offers an observation, Perhaps the drunk god might give us insight to the dreams we had at the palace. I saw a forest and a graveyard. A howling cat and...a man shaped burn? Its hard to recall all the details. There was a sense of...importance.
Amir frowns during his watch, bothered that images from the the palace persist. He spends some time igniting the sword of the smith they had just met and looking at the blade within the fire. The rogue continues to test the balance and the feel of the weapon. And what shall we call you hmm? Golnar I think... The rogue looks at the sword as if expecting an answer then chuckles to himself as he sheathes the weapon once more and looks out as the terrain passes by...
Very little could likely keep up with let alone board the supernaturally swift galley so watches seem superfluous. It is still before dawn when you arrive at yet another burnt pier. The rising sun reveals a sight all too familiar to anyone from Katapesh. Just beyond a a fringe of palms and other tropical trees rise high serried ranks of dunes and the dry heart of Khandelwal. At the head of a sheltered inlet at the island’s midsection is a domed hostel of tiled stone amidst a grove of citrus trees.
As you wait for Karethas to finish studying his spells for the day, Varkata suddenly hears a voice.
Varkata cocks her head, then nods, "I would hear the tale, then judge the truth for myself."
Varkata mentions the arrangement and at high noon a shaitan genie with skin of deepest onyx black but eyes of an amber so pale they nearly glow rises from the marble path leading through the citrus trees to the dunes. Surrounding him is a quartet of shaitan guards, their polished gear and jewelry setting off their gleaming-smooth, jewel-toned flesh. He holds nothing but an ivory fly swatter. One of his guards holds a golden bowl of salt and leads the way to the hostel where the fountain splashes gently and pillows are perpetually ready to accommodate guests.
"I am Obherak," the genie announces.
Kzrira looks with anxious anticipation to Varkata and Karethas waiting to see what their response will be.
Varkata bows her head in greeting, "And I am Varkata, called Steeleye, follower of the Drunken Hero."
Karethas maintains solid eye contact with the shaitan and does not bow, "I am Karethas ibn Faradin."
"Let us share bread and salt? Our words will be true and our intentions peaceful for this time together."
The amber-eyed genie returns Karethas' stare. "We will share salt certainly. I believe your culture recognizes our tradition. The shaitan are nourished only by rock and minerals. Only the least of genies, the jann, eat living matter."
Hearing what the genie said about minerals, Kzrira takes off the necklace she won many moons ago on the first nights that Karethas, Amir, Faelar and she were together in Katapesh.
I have little to offer. The small stone in this necklace is the only mineral that I have. I won it many moons ago in the city of Karapesh and have worn it as a memento of the founding of the small team that you see standing before you. It is not worth much, especially for a Shaitan lord such as yourself. However, it is of great personal value to me for the friends that I have made since receiving it and it is all that I have. If it would aid in securing our friendship and your aid, then I shall offer it to you.
Kzrira has no clue about the social etiquette of elemental lords or shaitan, but is trying her best.
Diplomacy:
Amir for his part hovers in the back, people, he knew. Creatures from another world he relied on his allies unless there words faltered...
Shockingly, Kzrira's naive offer actually seems to take the edge off the rock genie's demeanor. He gives a slight bow of his head. "It is a generous offer and obvious something that has value to you. Keep it. We have plenty of gems and jewels to nourish us with their beauty. Here, share salt with us and accept our hospitality." Each of the shaitan take a pinch of salt in turn and raise it to their mouths and the golden bowl is passed to Kzrira.
Surprised by the Shaitan's response, Kzrira gratefully takes back the azure necklace and connects it around her neck so that it is once more hidden beneath her chainmail.
When the salt is offered to her, she tentatively takes a small pinch from the golden bowl and raises it to her mouth.
Thank you. It is an honor to share salt with such noble individuals as yourselves.
Kzrira swallows the salt and immediately wonders whether it is appropriate to take a drink of her water.
Fort: <-- to avoid immediately reaching for her waterskin
Karethas smiles briefly at Kzrira's misunderstanding. When the bowl reaches him, he takes a pinch of salt and places it on his tongue. After swallowing he replies, "We are honored by your hospitality and accept it gladly."
Varkata watches her companions, pausing only briefly as Kzrira offers something so clearly meaningful to herself, Well, that should make it clear we've come in good faith... she smiles and then accepts the bowl, taking the salt and accepting the bonds of hospitality, before passing it on.
"I accept, though I can offer you only my thanks and the blessings of Cayden Cailean.... And, of course, an open mind, as I'd promised. "
Amir takes the salt as accepted and passes the bowl back.
The shaitan accept the bowl back and invite you to take seats on the pillows by the fountain. The hostel is similar to the other waypoints, but much better appointed. one of the shaitan summons food and drink from the font for the guests and takes a seat behind Obherak.
"So what has the traitor told you?" the shaitan begins.
Karethas settles comfortably on one of the pillows and sips at a drink. He nods at Obherak's directness and sits up straighter, "Dilix Mahad told us that you hold an artifact that can transport us from Kakishon to our home plane. Jhavhul is released onto our plane and we fear what havoc he may be unleashing there even now. Dilix said that you would never allow us to use the artifact, but what I know of your people in general is that you are a proud and honorable race. She encouraged us to attack you, but we chose to try more peaceful means."
Obherak smiles though his amber eyes hold no warmth. "Half-truths." he states simply. "Yes, I may have a way for you to leave, but I am not unreceptive to an exchange. When the foul efreet arrived, the traitor was only too quick to turn against her own kind and become a lap dog of the invader. Certainly, she only remains because Jhavhul cast her aside like the filth that she is. I have no doubt she would follow him if she could and likely warn him of your approach."
"Here is my price, and I think it is in your own interest: Bring me the traitor- alive or dead, and I will show you the way out of Kakishon."
Kzrira looks with concern from Obherak to Karethas and back:
Um . . . you call her a traitor. While I would have no problem bringing a traitor to justice as was their due, I need to be sure that what we are doing is right. We must return to Katapesh to fight against the efreeti that have escaped from here, but it is difficult for me to do so if we are going to risk the life of one who is innocent.
Thus, I would ask that you tell us what she did to turn against you. What was it that was so horrible? If what you request is truthful, then your answer should not be difficult and we will seek to bring her here, hopefully alive, to face the justice that she deserves for her wrongs, with all reasonable haste.
"Innocent?! Do not speak of truth when he hides behind his veil. Yes, Dilix is male and as false as his harem of shapeshifting pleasure slaves. When Jhavhul first arrived, we had a chance to kill him and scatter the efreet. The traitor went to his new master and revealed our plans. Many shaitan were lost and we now live in exile. You offered me something dear to you, now offer me something dear to me."
What can you tell us of Dilix? Already she, you said he? Whatever Dilix may be, when we saw her? It was most definitely not a he.
And you say Dilix is served by shapeshifters? What do you know of them? What nature of being are they? Would they be Raksha, Raksalmon, Rakshasha? Or are they something else? The more that you can tell us of them, creatures for whom you clearly have held great disdain for many eons, the better prepared we can be to assure that Dilix is brought before you for justice.