Standing up from where he's kneeling, Okay, let me revise my statement from earlier... Maybe we should go investigate this. Booker, you mind coming with, you are far more stealthy than I; but if it is a dragon, I'd rather have someone with you.
Brandt whistles for Fenrir to attend, and nocks an arrow to his bow before creeping in the general direction of the tracks. His cloak shimmers and takes on the general appearance of the muddy grassland before he begins to creep away through the mud toward the rocks.
Right-o, one sneaky Halfling comin' right up!" Booker says as he crouches low and hustles after Brand. "I bet that fancy cloak yah got there does ah number fer yer sneakitude!" Ha! An' 'e thinks I'd sneak up on ah flippin' Dragon on my own! Least 'e thinks I'm doin' 'im ah favor an' not thah othah way 'round!
________
Christian agrees with a simple nod.
Be careful...if this is a dragon...no telling what it may do.
Before they've gotten to far, Syretia jogs up to the bunch of them, casting a protective spell on Fenrir. "Just in case," she says, before heading back to the others. She watches nervously as the two men and a dog sneak off.
Bydar raises a brow, and decides a soft prayer can't hurt. Gods of light and mercy watch over them
No terrible beast leaps out from the rocks as Booker, Brandt, and Fenrir creep near the rocks, as they are thankfully cloaked among the long grass and wildflowers growing verdant upon the hillside.
The vein of gold ore hidden within a crevice tucked among the rocks would normally be quite difficult to locate for even explorers, much less ordinary travelers. However, not only do you have the map informing you of its existence, you have an auditory clue to its exact location.
As the scouts draw close, they soon become aware of the sound of heavy breathing, amplified by the cradle of rocks around the crevice from which it emanates. Inching to a vantage point that provide some modicum of cover, the spot the potential gold mine, partially curtained by shrubs and creeper vines. Something large lurks within, and either the creature snores in its sleep, or its breathing comes in a very ragged, pained rhythm.
Brandt will stop and wave the rest of the party forward to where they can observe the lair, hear that? either something is snoring, or it sounds like it may have a punctured lung...Heard that once from a brigand I shot with an arrow, wasn't long before he expired when he sounded that way. I feel a lot better with the lot of you right here, while I go forward and see what there is to see. The ulfen nods to the group. He strokes his short beard, and turns to Fenrir, speaking softly in his native tongue,
The wolfhound crosses to where Syretia stands, and absently eyes the cavern from where the noises emanate. Brandt nods to Booker, and continues to creep forward, bow in hand, but no arrow nocked.
Brandt cautiously approaches the cave, on soundless feet. He crosses to the downwind side of the opening, hoping that his scent won't precede him and tip off whatever creature slumbers within.
Keeping his distance, Booker pulls out a cracked and battered wand of blackened wood. Time fer tha big guns! He does his best to get within thirty feet or so of the entrance while remaining hidden and waits for... something to happen.
Brandt can hear the unmistakable sound of something large moving within the cavern, as though shifting its position or digging in its heels. He strongly suspects that the creature within has senses his approach.
No overt sounds emerge: neither bestial roar nor booming voice.
Likewise, no blast of dragon's breath or pouncing beast escapes the tall but narrow crevice in the stone to accost Brandt.
hear that? either something is snoring, or it sounds like it may have a punctured lung...Heard that once from a brigand I shot with an arrow, wasn't long before he expired when he sounded that way. I feel a lot better with the lot of you right here, while I go forward and see what there is to see.
Exercise extreme caution. We do not know for sure what we are dealing with.
Christian points towards the cavernWhatever it is...it is injured and possibly cornered.
Syretia offers Brandt a smile, and she tentatively places a hand on Fenrir's scruff when he steps up to protect her.
"Any ideas on who or what it might be?" she asks, returning to Common.
Dammit, This never works well, oh well here goes nothing...The tall Ulfen straightens from his advancing crouch, holding his arms wide, attempting to show no hostility; but prepared to run like hell given the chance.
Hail the cave! The Ranger cries out, gambling everything on this working, I was riding by, and saw you may need assistance. I'm known as Brandt, and might I offer you aid in Erastil's name, for it is by the huntsman's blessings I've noticed you. Come out in peace, and we'll both leave here in peace. If you can't come out, let me know I can come in, lets be neighborly here.
The big ulfen feels like this isn't going well, so he fishes out the bronze holy symbol of Erastil from his shirt slowly.
At the word Injured, Bydar sets his jaw and says "Brandt, if there's an injury I should tend to it...and I speak Draconic." he is really tempted to follow
Booker's eyes almost fall out of his head when Brand steps in front of a cave housing a dragon. Cluching his wand with everything he has, he lies in sweaty wait as fate rolls the dice on the Human's life. It's ah wonder I tells ya that Humans 'ave made it as far as they 'ave!
Hearing Bydar offer his support, Brandt nods, There is a healer here who can tend to your wounds as well. We don't seek any conflict with you at all.
Oh this better work...
Brandt glances around looking for a large rock to cower behind should the cavern's occupant decide a gout of fire was his punishment for approaching its resting spot.
Syretia takes an involuntary step forward, but then freezes in place. Please be friendly, please be friendly...
Sounds like they have been found. I have not heard anything from booker. Damn it. He is good but he could also be dead...Time to move
Christian looks to the others and speaks to them so that they can here him only.
We go in slow and hope to not create trouble...but...
He looks to the cave
If this goes south we move in fast...retrieve our people and get the hell out of there. If this is a dragon...I have no clue how to fight one but it's knowledge of the terrain puts us at a disadvantage. If we have to fight we do it out here were we have more room to move. Being in close together is not good when dealing with a breath weapon.
I suggest we form up...Orlog, me, Syretia and then Bydar. Fenrir, I will assume will stick by you Syretia.
Once all form up. He turns and speaks out to Brand.
Brand, we are coming in slow. We will announce our position with some light to help us see better. Are you OK. What is your situation?
Orlog moves into position. "The only thing I know about killing dragons is to hit it with everything we have... Sadly for us, that everything isn't much, so let's hope we can talk things out instead of fighting."
Nodding at Orlog.
Agreed...
"Go. Away."
The hoarse voice comes from the shaded recesses of the cavern to halt you before you take your first steps inside. There is a slight gurgle in its tone that undercuts its authority and keeps it from sounding booming or imposing.
Christian scans the opening trying to see what it is that spoke. The voice makes him pause for a moment. The dark cavern makes it impossible to see beyond the opening.
Holy s%$%...even wounded...it is powerful.
He turns to the group and lets the air out that he was holding. Extending a gloved hand.
Some light please and be prepared to save my dumb ass if this does not work.
The nobleman turned mercenary mumbles more to himself than the others.
Tread lightly
Praying that the Draconic word for hope would bring this creature to its senses.
My name is Christian. My companions and I are from Charis.
He takes another deep breath as he continues.
I apologize for the intrusion but we can not in good conscious leave. That would not be the right thing to do. My companions and I will tend to your wounds. It sounds like your injuries will lead to a slow and agonizing death if not treated. We can help you and then we will continue on our way.
He steps away from the group and starts to enter the cavern.
I am coming in...
With a swallow, Christian keeps his voice calm.
...unarmed.
and with that he unbuckles his weapon belt and lets it slide from his waist.
This is stupid, this is stupid, what the f#@! and I thinking....
What the f!#* is he thinking? Bydar wonders in surprise, then with a note of respect He's being incredibly brave and trying to show he can be trusted. Shelyn would be proud of him I think.
"Not like my glaive will do me much good against a dragon." He sets his own weapons down.
He casts a light spell on a coin, and follows Lord Christian but staying at least 10 feet behind, saying in draconic "My name is Bydar, I am a cleric of Shelyn. I'm the healer they spoke of. Christian is right. There's been enough injury and death all around these lands lately. If you'll allow me to look over your wounds, you'll see I'm unarmed too."
The creature heaves a deep sigh, sending a wave of warm air washing over Christian as he approaches. Despite your firm suspicions, it remains an imposing sight when the light from Bydar's coin reveals the dirt-caked, coppery scales of a dragon. A pair of long horns taper back from its head. Up close, you can see that its wings - wrapped around its body and ridged tail - appear especially long, although they bear obvious scratches and tears.
The dragon shifts just enough to turn and face you in a marginally more dignified stance, though it clearly is a pain.
"Let me strip you of your delusions," the dragon groans. "If you seek treasure, I have none. If you seek wisdom, then you see only a fool before you. If your words of peace are hollow and you truly seek battle, then you'll find not a whit left in these broken bones."
Christian's eyes bulge at the site of the dragon.
I think I just pissed myself.
Swallowing down his fear, the young human steps forward slowly.
I do not seek treasure nor wisdom and most assuredly I do not seek battle.
Let my friend attend your wounds and if you are feeling up to it...we can talk. Your injuries looks like they came from natural weapons...claws and teeth. How did this happen to you?
When no gout of flame, electricity or other awful elemental energies flood from the cave mouth, Syretia pokes her head around the corner before following the others in.
When she catches sight of the dragon waiting in that cave, her breath hitches and her feet tangle together, nearly sending her to the ground. A dragon a dragon a real dragon
With halting steps, she begins forward again, until she draws even with Bydar. Her eyes wide, she opens and closes her mouth to speak, but seems struck dumb by the dragon's presence.
Brandt will approach the cave entry slowly after dropping his bow into his quiver. He leans against the cave mouth, marveling at the dragon before them and scanning around for Booker. I don't blame him for not showing his face, that was damn lucky it didn't decide to eat me.
Watching his companions, he'll continue to lean against the wall, mentally taking notes of the entire conversation transpiring before him, at least the parts he can understand....
"Now I'm actually worried... This dragon isn't small, yet someone or something managed to injured it." Instead of looking at the dragon, Orlog start looking at the horizon around them, worried that something might come and finish the fight with the dragon.
Bydar nods as he sees Syretia step next to him, and he can't blame her for being speechless.
Magnificent, even wounded and filthy the dragon's luster shines.
"I'm approaching to inspect your wounds, good dragon. As for nothing to take, a being's worth is not defined by what can be taken from them by force. I know that much." He moves forward and looks the dragon over carefully.
Unless it will hurt the dragon to heal him (Say if there's an item that needs removed first), the Priest follows up with a soft prayer "Scales of copper woven anew, Shelyn's light shine "
With nobody cremated , Booker creeps out into the open with the others. Ma an tha li'l ones ain't ever gonna buhlieve this! Trying not to shake, he moves forward only enough to not over take whoever would otherwise be the furthest person. Don't wanna mess wit' whatever did ah number on a Dragon!
"We gonna tell it 'bout tha thing, er we just gonna wait?" he asks the others. We might as well, but I ain't tha kinda Halfling fer decisions like that. More of ah Lord Christian kinda thing.
As the party draws closer, the dragon's mouth shifts, showing the edges of its teeth as it hazards what could be a grin.
Bydar hasn't a sliver of knowledge regarding the physiology of dragonkin. He cannot identify potential infection points, if dragons are even susceptible to mere diseases, and he cannot appraise whether any of the patent's organs may be at risk.
When the Shelynite defers to his goddess' radiance, asking her to do what he cannot, the light of the divine magic that blossoms within the cavern causes the flecks of ore embedded in the cavern's back walls to shimmer and glow. Echoed between gold ore and copper scales, the light becomes magnified and creates a soft symphony for the eyes within the dark confines.
"Well, you've convinced me of your intent," the dragon sighs as its injuries close, its scales reshape, and its wing membranes knit together. Freed from pain, its voice comes more easily and regains its natural tone. "But I should warn you that by helping me, you are inadvertently taking sides in a very dangerous dispute."
Copper dragons are metallic dragons with distinctly long wings, a ridged tail, and a distinctly copper hue. They are more whimsical than most other metallic dragons, often spending more time in combat trying to frustrate and annoy their enemies than kill them outright. The oldest copper dragons can even use humor as a weapon, inciting mass crowds to laugh hysterically, or to even kill a creature with a single joke.
Copper dragons tend to have relatively little impact on their surroundings, although an adult copper can consume as much food as several bears. They are the most likely of the true dragons to adopt vegetarian diets, and the only ones to enjoy sweet foods.
Copper dragons are notoriously mercurial, and great lovers of personal freedom. Their love of liberty often leads them to campaign against tyranny and oppression. Copper dragons' passions tend to only burn briefly before their interests settle elsewhere, often leading them to lose interest in and abandon a cause before its completion. Coppers are also prone to violent outbursts against real or perceived slights against themselves or other dragons. They are also the most likely among metallic dragons to "tarnish," the term used to describe when a metallic dragon abandons its good nature for neutrality or even evil.
Hearing the dragon's words, Brandt shrugs, Well, wouldn't be the first time we stepped into something we knew nothing about. Why don't you tell us whom we've inadvertendly angered? and grins at the dragon.
We're pretty good at making friends and making enemies at the same time, let's hope you are a friend is all I'm saying The Ulfen man laughs, taking a small pull off a flask he withdrew from his belt...
Christian watches as the cavern gleams with light and lets his eye rest on the dragon's gaze. His stance and manners are of respect and admiration.
This...dispute...would not happen to include a small village east of here by the name of Nivakta's Crossing, would it? Word reach us that a dragon attacked and the refugees have fled to Master Leveton's Outpost. We were on our way there to lend aid and to investigate the destruction when we came found you.
Bydar lets a smile slip at the Dragon's reaction. Pride is a vice we tend to gain comfort from I suppose. Who am I to judge? If I were a dragon I'd be feeling rather impressive too
"You are a copper dragon, yes? I remember tales that you are among the most light hearted of the goodly dragons. Yet clearly, times are grim for you. How do we call you, great lady?"
As the Crossing is mentioned, he nods and hopes that they are not, ironically, at war with this dragon
Syretia turns her head to look at Bydar, impressed. When she turns back to the dragon, she seems to find her voice. "My Lady," she says, her tone reverent, "I am called Syretia. As Lord D'Elagante has said, we travel to investigate an attack on a nearby town. I believe that this attacker and yours are one and the same."
Lord Christian's description elicits another heavy sigh from the dragon.
"Then you are already involved, I see," she rues. "Let us step outside. Now that my mood has improved, I believe I can face the sunlight again."
She lets the party exit first before following. Once outside, standing among the gorse and wildflowers at the foot of the rocks, the dragon draws back up to her full height and assumes a dignified, seated pose.
"My name is Apothyl," she announces. "The one who destroyed your village is, regrettably, my former mate: Mercifax.
"You see, our egg was stolen, and we have spent many weeks searching for it. The stress was terrible, and it only grew worse as our search proved fruitless. Finally, the strain became too much for Mercifax, and he...I believe you mortals would say he 'snapped.' He convinced himself that our child was kidnapped by humans, and in a maddened rage, he fell upon the human village. I tried to stop him, but you can guess how well I fared by the state you found me in."
Standing back in the open under the skies again, the human shakes his head slightly at the words. Picking up his weapon belt and hooking it to his horse, the handsome man turns to strange situation that is before him.
Christian's face is a mix of emotions with them all playing out in the open, rage, disappointment, disbelief, anger to...understanding? SWith his composure regained, his voice becomes quiet and distant. Christian's responding tone is filled with loss.
Lady Apothyl...I know full well the lengths a parent will go to for their children.
He sighs heavily...
It is true that humans did steel your egg..those humans worship the God Lamashtu. He pauses for a few moments as if to gain some confidence to proceed.
Well the cat is out of the bag now
They came through these lands not long ago. We believe they stole your egg to use in a ritual to appease their God.
He looks at her face directly, trying to read her emotions.
Fortunately a tribe of Kobolds stole the egg before they could use it. These tiny creatures were able to hide it away in their caves. They protected it even when tragedy fell on the tribe.
Christian's face becomes a little brighter and some happiness returns.
When we met the Kobolds they were hoping to hatch the egg and worship it as a god, a protector. We were able to explain the existence of Apsu to them. It is my hope that they will find their own view on the gods. During our talks the egg was revealed to us. With our alliance set and agreed on...
Looking to the others and the back to the dragon.
...we walked away with the egg as part of those negotiations. We felt that the conditions were not right for a copper dragon to be raised in.
Standing up taller in readiness of an attack, the soon to be short lived king of these lands presses on.
It was our hope to find the parents and return the egg. If that was not possible...we knew of some fey that live nearby. We were planning on seeking advice on how to proceed. The egg is safe and being cared for. It is yours and will be returned whenever you like.
He steps closer to the dragon
Your child is safe and if you wish to be reunited...I will not stand in your way.
The mercenary leader looks to the ground before him. He then looks from the east to the north. Letting his gaze flow from the distant destroyed village and to the refugees that are flooding into Oleg's Outpost.
It would appear that Lord Mercifax has lost his way....his hope. Perhaps we can help him find it again. We need to locate him immediately before more innocent people are killed. I understand his motives...I do not agree with them nor do I condone them but understand them...yes. We need to bring food and aid to the refugees and rebuild their village.
Again the lord steps closer to the dragon.
will you help us? Help us find him and help us rebuild what was destroyed...help us all to heal from this tragedy
Syretia turns her head to look at Bydar, impressed
Bydar modestly shrugs.
Then Apothyl leads them out into the sunlight
"The one who destroyed your village is, regrettably, my former mate: Mercifax.
"You see, our egg was stolen, and we have spent many weeks searching for it. The stress was terrible, and it only grew worse as our search proved fruitless. Finally, the strain became too much for Mercifax, and he...I believe you mortals would say he 'snapped.' He convinced himself that our child was kidnapped by humans, and in a maddened rage, he fell upon the human village. I tried to stop him, but you can guess how well I fared by the state you found me in."
Bydar winces "Tragedy compounded on tragedy. We thank you for trying to save lives and bring reason to your former mate even during your own great sorrow. Do you know where Mercifax is now?"
Then Lord Chirstian makes him proud, relating all honestly "It is as Lord Chirstian says. Your enemy, the eggnappers, are the Cult of Lamashtu. The kobolds are innocent, as are the townsfolk we call our people. We must reunite you with your young, and perhaps your former mate can be saved from the Tarnish if you think it possible?"
There are surely many things you never expected to see in your lifetime, including those beyond imagining. One such item that can now be scratched out is a dragon laughing, for that is what you find before you, if only for a moment.
A genuine laugh falls from Apothyl's draconic mouth, fading into a bemused smile.
"Either I have also gone mad, or else your priest's magic can heal moods, too," she muses gaily. "Cultists stole my child, then a gang of kobolds stole it from them, and then you reclaimed my child by bringing religion to the kobolds? Such a whimsical farce life is."
The dragon mother heaves a sigh, the weight of the situation returning to quash her natural cheer.
"I desire nothing else in this world so much as to have my child returned so that I can be there to see them hatch. To amend the damage I could not prevent, I will help you rescue the villagers from privation.
"Regarding Mercifax...I know not where he is now. I fled south and found this refuge to hide and nurse my wounds," she rues, looking around at the rocks. "If he was trying to pursue me, I have evidently evaded him for now. Unfortunately, I fear that he continues to rampage north of here, in his own wild and misguided hunt for our child."
Syretia had hoped that Christian would tell the dragon of the egg on his own, but she still waited in breathless anticipation of an angry response to the news. When the dragon laughs, the feeling of relief that washes over Syretia means she can't help but bark out some nervous laughter of her own.
"Lady Apothyl," she says, after the moment has passed, "I would love nothing more than to see mother and child reunited. You could certainly go and retrieve them yourself if you so chose, as the egg is under the protection of a trusted ally and I very much doubt anyone will try to stop you. It might be easier, though, if we were able to precede you so as to not cause a panic."
Syretia pauses for a moment, thinking about her next words. "Do you think that Mercifax can be turned from his path of destructive grief? Would the news that your child is safe be enough?" she asks, her voice hopeful.
Christian rubs his unshaven chin in frustration. A look of concern crosses his face as he looks at the dragon.
Lady Apothyl...this is a very delicate situation we are in. Not just political or diplomatic...Your mate attacked a village of Rostland. They are proud and defiant people who have a history of distrust with dragons. I can only imagine how tempers are up north right now. We need to proceed very carefully.
Looking around the area, Christian stares off towards the distant outpost.
I will gladly take what help I can get but the closer we get to the outpost, the more likely it will be that you will be seen. I suspect that Master Leveton's food stocks are running low by now. As we travel north, we need to gather vegetables and fruits...anything that can keep for the next few days. When we are closer to the outpost we can hunt. That way the meat will still be edible when we arrive.
He turns to Syertia, nodding his approval and then looks back to the dragon with sorrow etched on his face.
Lady Syertia brings up a good point. A point that I am loath to follow through with. I am caught between a rock and a hard place as it were. Over the years I have come to enjoy the stories and the respect that a dragon commands. I will do everything in my power to help your mate, to give him hope again. I will defend him and help him to see the error of his ways...but...if it comes down to the lives of the innocent weather they be of Charis or not. I will use everything at my disposal to stop him. I fully understand that he is a dragon and I have a very slim chance at even scratching him...but I will do as I must to protect the people of these lands. I pray that it does not come to that.
HE turns and faces the dragon with an apologetic look.
I know this is difficult and must be very uncomfortable for you but I need to know what you will do if push comes to shove. Whose side will you be on if we can not convince your mate to stop this madness?
Brandt considers the dragon's words, and its apparent mirth at the situation. Well there Apothyl, we've got some time before the child hatches, yes? Would you be content to take our words that we must travel to ensure the safety of our people, then return the egg unto your care that you may be there for the arrival of your child?
Thinking further a moment, Heck we could even sneak you into the very hidden and secure place we've placed the child, and you could stay there to nurse your wounds for a time, although it is very close to Charis? Or we can bring the egg out and you meet us somewhere easy to find.
Rubbing his blond beard, the ulfen continues, In my father's land, Kings are sworn by the enemies they have slain, particularly the linnorms of the north. I know it can be done if push comes to shove; granted linnorms aren't real dragons, but we'll happily try our best if that's the only option left to us.
Then finally remembering a key point, We were planning on a little cultist hunt of our own anyway, you would be welcome to join should we find trace of their trail. Can't have child abductors running around just outside our borders, no matter if the child is human or draconic.
"I...don't know all that much about dragons who tarnish," she admits. "We hear stories of them as wyrmlings much as your own parents might've told you stories about boogeymen. I think they can be redeemed, though.
"Of course, if Mercifax can't let go of his anger...well, if you're looking for my blessing to do what must be done, then you have it. Just because he sired my egg doesn't mean I'd stay beside him and abide wanton death and destruction. In fact...even if he can be plucked from his terrible path, I don't think I'd allow him near our...my child again."
Bydar says "We will try to save the soul of your mate if we can. Lady Apothyl, the others have spoken with sincerity and wisdom. My healing.. I am sorry, I must save some for the survivors, but later, I will heal you the rest of the way."
Booker pokes his from behind Bydar. "So, whatcha gonna do now, eh?" he asks the Dragon. "Er, yer Lady-ness," he adds hastily, stowing the burnt stick that is his wand.
"We 'ave ah sortah special-ity of sorts when it comes tah doin' tha outlandish an' improbable. If anyone can get tha job done, it's gonna be one ah us!" he boasts. Can ye buhlieve it? A real bone-ah-fide Dragon! Talkin' tah us! With words! An' not fire!
Syretia nods sadly at Apothyl's words, and her gaze gradually descends from the dragon's face to her own feet.
"It hurts to grow up missing a parent," she says quietly, "but it can be far worse to grow up with a cruel one."
With a deep breath and a shake of her head, she looks back up at the dragon, her usual expression and tone of joy having returned. "I'm glad that we can help you, Lady Apothyl! All we've got to do is save a grief-stricken dragon from himself, and restore a kidnapped child to its mother. Easy as pie," she says with a lopsided grin.
No need to tell anyone what a dreadful cook I am, though.
Nodding at the kind words of his companions, Brandt keeps his grim thoughts to himself, Great, redeem an angry dragon from itself?? Will we even be able to get close enough to talk to it?
We should head to Oleg's trading post then, and render our aid for the folks there. Then turn right back to home and reunite Apothyl with her egg. Brandt looks to the rest of the party before waving bye to the dragon.
Once they are outside and remounted, Brandt speaks up, You realize we'll have to get in close with a dragon to convince it not to be murderous right? Bydar, Christian, you two comfortable with that idea? I ask since you are the ones most likely to convince Mercifax of anything.
Placing a hand on Brand's shoulder, Christian smiles.
Get us to the outpost. Best speed and pray we can gather plenty of provisions along the way.
I would not ask anyone to do this nor would I expect you to. Now if you decide you wish to see an angry dragon up close..
Chuckling...
If it should fail then it will be a once in a life time experience.
"So we are back at dragon hunting and this time, he might be hostile." He pauses for a second and stroke at his beard. "Well, I'm one to shy from a challenge and beside, we have a responsibility to help people on our land." He starts walking toward his mount, ready to move on.
As they walk towards the outpost, trying to gain as much ground as they can...
Lady Apothyl...would you be willing to part with some tactical information on your former mate? His strengths, weaknesses...what are his tendencies...hi tells? Umm what hand or claw does he use more often the left or the right. Those sore of things. The more we know the better chance we have at staying alive long enough to convince him of the error of his ways.
"He is somewhat older than I, so he is more powerful, I'm sorry to say. Fortunately, he did not escape our battle unscathed, either. I ensured he felt the bite of my teeth and talons just as I felt his. What's more, I know for sure that I delivered a terrible wound to his left eye. I would be surprised if he could see out of it at all."
Although she doubts it will be of use, Apothyl also informs you that Mercifax is a connoisseur of wine and cheese.
"I dare say they're his greatest passion - at least the one that he's never lost interest in. Over the decades, he has made frequent flights into Kyonin to acquire elven wines to add to his collection. Meanwhile, one of the reasons he deigned to settle in this region, if only for a while, was the great variety of cheese produced nearby. That makes it all the more ironic that he would raze villages that once produced his favorites."