As you move forward into the misty gloom, Carric and Arthur become aware of stealthy movement behind you, moving in from the sides. Both the elf and the half-elf are able to discern the movement of gnolls circling around behind you.
Turn and prepare yourself. The gnolls approach from our rear flanks!
"Gargh!"
Revjak makes a guttural sound of annoyance, as he spins to face the threat.
"Close the gap! Put them on the back foot!"
"Now, now, let's not get too hasty," purrs a deep, clear, mellifluous voice that seems to come from everywhere around you. "I'm sure we can resolve this situation without resorting to base violence. My minions will not attack unless you force our hand, but I'm sure you don't really want to do that. Won't you continue forward, so that we might look each other in the eye? I find it's the only real way to do business. Important business, that is. It can be difficult to enter into a relationship of trust with someone who won't show their face."
"WHO ARE YOU!?", roars Revjak, as he turns again and again, trying to see the foe.
"I am most commonly known as Hashima," the deep voice answers,"although these gnolls refer to me as Brakk-yolnyu, which I believe roughly translates as Deathcloud; hardly flattering, and somewhat reminiscent of poor digestion. Still, they are by and large obedient, if not clever or diplomatic. Why don't you introduce yourselves, so that we may begin building the aforementioned relationship of trust."
"They wish only to encircle us, the fog hampers them as well. Let's not give them time to bring their numbers to bare!" Arthur whispers to the others.
"Give me a direction and I will break a path through.", hisses Revjak, his frustration obvious.
"Your hissing back and forth seems to hold a note of stress. We have no need to come to blows, despite your reckless attack on my demesne. I have a proposition you may find profitable," the voice purrs. "Rather rush to what would be your certain deaths by engaging my minions and me, I encourage you to hear my proposal. I will not, however, tolerate continued refusal to treat politely. The longer you hold your silence, the shorter grows your time." By the end of the statement a note of menace has most certainly crept into Hashima's otherwise amiable tone.
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Carric leans close to Arthur and whispers.
That sounds like a dragon, to me, and Green One to boot, based on deathcloud reference. Please negotiate our safe passage.
"Hashima, we will hear your proposal." Calls out clearly.
Revjak snorts, but remains where he is. Though still ready to strike with Azuredge at the first hint of a foe charging at the group.
"Good," purrs the voice, drawing out the syllable with a tone of satisfaction. "Sheathe your weapons, and I will command my minions to fall back." The voice then barks out a series of commands in a babbling, growling language that sounds like insane gibberish.
You can all hear angry but muted growls coming from back in the direction you came from, and the sound of retreating feet on the sward. Then, the voice speaks again. "Excellent. Perhaps you will sheathe your weapons ? Then we may see each other."
Revjak, with all the contentment of a trapped badger, ties Azuredge to his back. His displeasure is plain on his face.
Concerned about facing down against a dragon and gnolls Arthur sheathes his rapier... one or the other is one thing, but both at once?
Once you all sheathe your weapons and announce the fact to Hashima, he purrs with satisfaction. "Excellent. Now, let us regard each other." Before anyone can react, you hear a mighty whoosh of air, like the filling of a giant bellows; is that the sound of a dragon inhaling? Adrenaline floods your body as you realise that dragons must inhale deeply before exhaling their deadly breath weapons. You tense your muscles, prepared to leap aside, but too late! The dragon breathes out, and the force of its exhalation almost topples you over backwards...
But while the wall of air that hits you does carry a strong acrid odour that irritates your nostrils, you are not struck by fire, or lightning, or noxious fumes. Instead, the fog around you swirls under the force of the breath, blown away from the immediate area to reveal your surroundings.
You stand in a shallow glen, a small depression in the earth perhaps sixty feet wide and one hundred feet deep, with earthen banks that rise up ten to twenty feet to meet the forest, where the trees are once more twisted and forced together. Behind you are the gnolls, some fifteen of them, forty feet away at the entrance to the depression where the trees part. At the far end of the glen you see a cliff that opens out what appears to be a much deeper valley, although it remains draped in thick fog. A pool sits off in front of you to your left (west), its waters black and motionless, its nearest bank formed by a rocky ridge.
But what draws your eye immediately is the huge creature before you. Probably nearly sixty feet long, with its length divided more or less equally between neck, body, and tail, it is indeed a green dragon. A large spiny crest begins between its brows and continues for most of the length of its neck. Its teeth, gleaming yellow-white, are uncomfortably visible even though its mouth is closed, and its black eyes are dark pools of emptiness as it stares at you one by one. It perches on the rocky ridge this side of the empty pool, and the rock crumbles slightly as it shifts its massive bulk.
You are more than aware that this immensely powerful being could crush any one of you like an ant, should it choose, and that while as a group you may cause it some pain, you are far more likely to fall without seriously wounding it than you are to defeat it. You feel your blood pumping in your veins, hammering in your ears, and you are keenly aware of the sweetness of every breath, and just how fragile your life is.
"I believe I have already introduced myself," Hashima rumbles. "Now... who might you be?"
Revjak stands tall.
If I am to die, let it be on my feet!
"I am Revjak of the Elk and of the Company of the Blue Axe."
Carric, amazed at the creature, steps up next to Revjak.
I am called Carric Amastasia formerly Knight in Silver from Silverymoon, now companion to these others before you.
With Jareth now perched upon his shoulder, Reynwyn steps forward next to Carric and Revjak. "Mighty Hashima, I am called Reynwyn of the Company of the Blue Axe. We do not seek to quarrel with you, oh Mighty One. We seek out a fiend for our companion yonder," he nods towards Arthur. "We were unaware that these gnolls were your underlings. If we have caused an affront to you, perhaps we could parley?"
Piety says simply, "I am Piety, formerly of Netheril."
"Well met, well met," Hashima nods to Revjak, Carric, and Piety, after cocking a curious eyebrow at the man-golem. The wyrm then turns to the two half-elves. "And you two? I can smell your talent from here, the pair of you. Are you dabblers, or proper practitioners of the Art? I, myself, take more than a passing interest in magic."
The dragon preens at Reynwyn's respectful tone. "Yes, quite... A fiend, you say? A fiend in the literal or metaphorical sense? I usually avoid dealing with devils and demons when I can help it, but one can find evil in many places. Why don't you tell me who, or what, you seek. Perhaps I can point you in the right direction. As for my minions, you have murdered many of their kin... But so long as we get along, I will not let them inconvenience you in any way."
Hashima looks over you all again. "In some ways, you have answered the most burning question in my mind: why are you here? You seek someone, or something. Pray, tell."
"I am Arthurs. Metaphor, a gnoll... a flynd to be exact. A large albino. It may be the one I seek or it may not but this one has committed enough vile acts on it's own to justify it's pursuit. We had not sought to draw your ire by coming to this place but..."
Arthur leaned forward a little despite his impulses telling him to flee. "...the albino is cunning and formidable. It was the one who sought out this place. Might it have hoped to steal something from you... no doubt something it would now consider foolish through direct force of arms despite the forces it brought with it. However, I think it would think little of sacrificing the other gnolls to acquire whatever it came here for in some ruse. Hashima your prowess is plain for any with eyes to see but you must still hunt, and rest... tend to your interests. The Albino will no doubt give in to base avarice, if tempered by fear of your prowess. Even they will see the folly of direct confrontation unless they are truly daring or mad..."
"...but treachery to steal from you when they feel the time is right? That is something they will no doubt engage in sooner or later. What precious treasure of yours do they desire... it must have been something magnificent to risk your wrath."
Revjak glances at Reywyn and Arthur.
After they speak, he adds:
"The only gnoll you can trust is the one you can see. And preferably dead at that!"
Carric simply stands gracefully and focuses on the dragon as it exchanges words with the others. He felt the longing stare after he introduced himself.
Hashima regards you all with apparent seriousness as you tell him of the Albino Flind and its capacity for treachery, but when you finish he shakes his head dismissively. "I sense your genuine concern for my physical and financial well-being, and that this pale hyena man might swindle me, or burgle my rightful possessions, but I am happy to report that he is long gone. I saw him off myself, after recruiting his followers here. However, it sounds like you may have more than just my welfare in mind; this sounds personal," Hashima notes perceptively, addressing Arthur. His nostrils flare briefly, casually. "You seek him, yes?"
Reynwyn listens quietly, allowing Arthur to take the lead in this instance as the albino was his quarry. He watches the dragon carefully, trying to get a read on him, but he was too awestruck about being in the presence of such a magnificent creature.
Revjak says nothing, looking to Arthur.
"Yes, it is a thief if it is the one I have sought out... but I can not be sure until I draw close to it. I'd track it down and put the matter to rest if I had a trail to follow. Leaving you with no further interference. As for how this would benefit you, I know this one has done enough to justify it's end. If we end it then you could be assured it would never return to your lair to seek what it covets. It has allies beyond simple gnolls, far more dangerous including a skilled wizard."
Hashima snorts, his eyes drifting away from you all. "Wizards. Powerful compared to the rest of humanity, perhaps, but overrated in the grand scheme of things. Still," he says, immediately returning his focus to you, "they have their uses.
"Now, down to business, I think. In compensation for the damages you have wrought on my demesne and minions, rather than suffer my wrath - which, as you would agree, would be quite a fruitless exercise for me, and a disastrous one for you - you will do me a small favour. In return, I shall demonstrate my benevolence and provide you with the information you need to find this... Albino Flind." Hashima smiles toothily. "Everybody gets what they want. What could be fairer than that?" He pauses for just a moment before continuing ...
Revjak asks flat out:
"What would you have us do?"
The dragon raises his chin slightly and looks down his snout at the northman. His nostrils flare as he inhales, then relax as he exhales evenly. "You shall travel into yonder valley," he rumbles, flicking his tail towards the valley beyond the far end of the glen. "There you will find a tomb. Inside is something I have been searching for - a sword. Bring me the sword, and anything else of beauty or value that you find within. Once I have the sword, you may leave, unmolested. I suggest you wait a few hours till dawn. You may take your rest at the entrance to the valley if you wish." Hashima smiles. "Never fear; I will watch over you and keep you safe."
Carric stares at the dragon.
Tell us about the sword so that we can be certain to have found the correct bounty.
Revjak almost visibly burns with impatience.
"Aye Hashima. I too would know of this sword. And its guardians."
"We would not wish to displease you by returning with a different blade and take up more of your valuable time!" Even a description of it's appearance might let us figure out it's nature...
"The sword will be unmistakeable. It lies in a golden scabbard, and the hilt and crossguard are worked in gold and black steel. A gem of everchanging colours is set in the pommel. Furthermore, it will be the centrepiece of the tomb. Now," Hashima says with authority, "you may rest until dawn near the valley entrance. I pray for your success."
As the dragon settles back on his legs like a gargantuan dog he holds you with an unblinking gaze, and murmurs something under his breath.
Revjak gives the dragon a look of lessened impatience. Though he thinks he hears muttering.
He turns to the others.
"It looks like we shall have a guardian for our rest. I would recover, and get on our way as soon as possible."
"Agreed, I would not overly delay."
After meditating for the necessary hours, Carric relieves Revjak from his watch.
The hours pass without issue, and it is mid-morning by the time everyone is sufficiently rested to venture forth into the valley. The gigantic green dragon rests, curled up like a watchful dog, his eyes trained on your small encampment; those who took turn on watch can attest that his unblinking gaze has never left you. The acrid stink of the creature hasn't faded in the slightest, and the fog hasn't lifted with the coming of the dawn either. The sky is hidden by the impenetrable mist, and you can't help but feel somewhat trapped, by fog, wood, and dragon all.
For breakfast,Revjak tears a strip of jerky with his teeth, wolfing it down in chunks.
Once he is done, the Reghedman says:
"Let us begin a journey to this valley."
Carric checks his weapons and arrows.
I agree. Let us be on our way.
Carric takes point with Revjak and heads towards the tomb that is to be explored.