"Ah but Falko Escheus, Hero of Goliad and Fist of Dragonsbane...it is not the safest for your Bloodstone Pass. Yes, I am afraid Damara is on the front lines of this malady. You see, the dig site was there, on the Glacier of the White Worm. I fear whatever this is will soon be unleashed to even farther Realms, should it not quickly be staunched. To bury these two...hmm, I realize my nation has a certain reputation across the world, but I'm afraid death would only exacerbate their condition. My friends, we are all here for the greater good are we not?" he inquires, still smiling that bright white square toothed smile.
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”We are. But we need complete honesty. Everything you know about this affliction, and it’s origin. This is not natural in any way. It is a blight on all of nature. It reeks of magic that should never have been tampered with, and I must believe that someone of your station would have the resources to exhaust all other means before calling outsiders, such as ourselves, here.” Lindaer replied.
Daryl walks into the room just in time to see the exploding worm, and some of the new companions to reel away from it. He sees the open sores appear on the priest, and the goblin nimbly dodge the spores released.
"What is happening here? Are these men Okay"?
Assuming Daryl is brought up to date he steps closer to examine the two patients.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and extends his hands towards the patients, a divine glow setting forth upon them.
Everyone feels a presence as the Paladin enters the room. You can feel the holy power radiating off him, and comforting any in the room.
IN HUMAN FORM ;D
Arran the Druid finally stops and finishes his last clap followed by a staff thump. But the ritual fizzles.
"What is this protective shell that you've placed? And tell us about this archaeological dig. What are you searching for? Finlogan the Heirophant needs this information," asks the human druid.
With Lindaer "Mulmaster is my passion. I will indeed exhaust all resources, local or otherwise in its service. Were we back in Thay, perhaps it could stay an internal affair, but I simply do not have that luxury here. Doubly not under this constraint of urgency. Besides, I would miss the chance to work with all of you, my new friends! I will tell you everything, but by your own perceptions you have seen how it thwarts magical probes. These shell effects seem, to me, to even defy classification into the traditional 8 schools. We need a hands-on approach to this research..." he raises his voice slightly as Falko turns to go, in an attempt to keep his attention.
He paces about the patients (the one of which is still screaming unintelligible sentences) as he talks, poking a long fingernail on his pinky into one of the pockmarks for a smell "It began here, with the devastation wrought by those bothersome elemental cults. I believe you may have met the cultists already: they graciously agreed to tend to the cleanup efforts...no escaping justice, eh?" Apparently, he is suggesting the undead outside are the cultists repurposed to serve some sort of dark penance.
"Mulmaster is one of the oldest sites of civilization, as you might realize. Countless eons lie beneath the rubble, undisturbed until now. A chip of pottery here, a shard of stone tool there, a dented coin... Understand, the records of Thay are complete, rivaling - nay, exceeding, I daresay! - those of vaunted Candlekeep. Thus these humble clues revealed another more interesting site a tendays travel east from here... We've of course already set up a defensive supply line of camps leading to the Glacier...but obviously this is quite the setback."
"The site is Netherese in origin...should it truly be intact, the value of the knowledge we could glean from it would be immeasurable. The Netherese, as you well know, were not an honorable people. They broke what they could not control, and then broke all that they did control. The facility needs to be explored...with much more caution and experience than these 2 were capable of."
"I ask that you go there and discover the cause of this...condition. Nothing is to be removed from the facility, for we know not what we are dealing with - though the knowledge of what lies within is to be brought back to me directly. These are auspicious days, my friends, and your legend will surely grow from this."
One of the red cloaked bodyguards steps forward, unfurling an obscenely long copper contract. And while the Zulkir pauses to gauge your reaction, that smile never fades.
Daryl, you feel your deity lift a veil from your mortal eyes as you inspect the inhabitants of the tent. While you do not detect any celestial, fiends, or undead in the area...the cold presence of an elder evil radiates from the patients, as if mocking the eyes of your god.
...this will soon be unleashed to even farther Realms... Those are the words that echo in Tarn's mind and he suddenly knows that is why is here and that this plague or whatever it is was what the Caliph and the seers feared reaching Zakhara's shores.
Tarn turns to the Zulkir, waving away thoughts of cures and treatments. "What we should be considering now is the disposal of these bodies to insure they creatures cannot infect others." He pauses for a moment, seemingly unconcerned that the victims still live. "I'd suggest either disintegration or extremely hot fire while they are surrounded completely within a force barrier. Any remaining ash should then be sealed and stored in a small alternate plan of existence so there's no further chance of contamination."
He sighs heavily. "Then, since it seems that things best left buried in the deep have been uncovered it falls to us to put them back into the depths once again." Better yet, destroy them completely and utterly. He muses silently to himself.
"Now what's this?" The goblin says glancing at the long copper document.
At Falko's question, Szasa says "Yes, he did, but you know how priests are."
"My, my, my, if it isn't the Zulkir of Enchantment. Did you guys ever get a new Zulkir of Transmutation? I put the other one someplace safe."
"Dallying with Netherese ruins is dangerous." Szasa said "They wiped themselves out because of their arrogance, believing they could use magic to make themselves gods. They're the reason why Mystra removed the ability to cast the highest magics from mortals."
"What, specifically, is it you believe exists in this buried glacial site?"
Sliding back over near the muttering victim, Tarn concentrates for just a moment, tapping into the magic imbued in his hat to make sure the gibberish being spoken isn't simply another language, perhaps one belonging to these ancient Netherese that the Zulkir mentioned.
"Now what's this?" The goblin says glancing at the long copper document.
"Well, I dare hold out hope for these two at least a bit longer...we have a psionicist on the way within a few tendays, perhaps she will be able to reach their minds...assuming they are still intact. Those esoteric power might be related to this strange 9th school signature." again referring to the 'shell'. "But barring any...noble attempts to help them, their condition is not worsening. So yes, failing that your wise disposal methods are quite under advisement, Most Esteemed Savior of the Silver Sphinx." he bows.
When your attention falls on the document he brushes it aside as inconsequential "Oh this? Just a simple contractual agreement...its an unfortunate necessity the bureaucracies of our Treasury demands. I trust Senior Cloak Shan informed you of the quantity of platinum you shall merit? Here then, I present to you a binding offer, my friends. Should you perform this investigative service for me - nay, for Mulmaster! - the nation of Thay would be greatly indebted to you. The heavy details of the agreement are set forth in such a way as to protect our relationship and investments, but I give you my word: the Thayans believe in rewarding their allies richly, justly, and permanently."
While reading the full text of the microscopically etched legal jargon upon the copper scroll would likely take tendays, you make out a list of your legal names and aliases, your home city and/or region, faction affiliations and so forth. There is a line marked 'Signed' beneath each. "Ah, I'm afraid a proxy signature won't do...should your master wish such recompense." he adds to 'Arran'.
"My, my, my, if it isn't the Zulkir of Enchantment. Did you guys ever get a new Zulkir of Transmutation? I put the other one someplace safe."
A bit uneasy "Well yes, no one really ever liked Maligor anyways...that ridiculous half-tiger form he always assumed, with the blond hair and tasteless flashy blouses. Well done locking that memory away." he adds "But enchantment is merely my job...Mulmaster is my passion. I would of course never deign to use trickery in our discourse." he bows.
"What, specifically, is it you believe exists in this buried glacial site?"
"I haven't the slightest, but the idea of a 9th school of magic has wide philosophical implications regarding the nature of reality and the planes themselves. That such could remain hidden by or hidden from Mystra for so long.... Well, needless to say it can not be reached with magics currently at my disposal...that is why I need expert boots on the ground inside. There is really only one reference, and it used the curious word 'facility'...which can also be translated as 'laboratory', as you likely know."
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Lindaer had experience with this type of situation before. Walking over he said ”We will of course need time to read it. But I say now that I have no need for the platinum being offered. Rather, I would rather my share go to the rebuilding of Mulmaster, with stipulations on how it will he spent, as well as the appointment of a representative. I have someone in mind, but such details can wait. I trust that you will not have any issues with this?”
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Apparently the sound waves can exit the shell just fine and interact with the divination magics waiting at your ear holes. The muffled gibberish immediately changes to an onslaught of such phrases as:
"It waits beneath the ice!!"
"The Lord of Light is LIES! LIIIIEEEEEEESSSSS!"
"Hunger hunger, it eats...it waits and eats and waits and eats..." before breaking into a sob.
"The black obelisk is broken!"
"It is old and new; it holds secrets. So. Many. Secrets."
"The infernal heart! Beating, cracking!"
And much more of the same with slight variations, and with different intensity...including mentions of 'walking dead' and the 'ancient lore'.
IN HUMAN FORM ;D
"I'm certain Master Finlogan has no need for Thayan platinum," Arran the Druid replies to the Zulkir and looking in disdain at the contract.
"And, I'm also certain that he would be interested in protecting Faerun from a long lost Netherese magical plague. So, I will go contact him when you are ready to depart."
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At Lindaers offer of a 'deal', the Zulkir does not hesitate "Done. And could I wipe away this plague of poor judgement that affects me so! I should have known the Defender of Tethyr would be above such petty materialism." he smiles, rolling up his sleeves as if to indicate nothing funny and offering you a handshake.
"Hmmmmm....interesting, but not very helpful." Tarn says as he listens to the man's ravings.
"He seems to be speaking of a black obelisk being broken and something waiting beneath the ice. Apparently something hungry, and a bunch of other stuff." He shakes his head and steps back away from the suffering wizard. "Not any of which sounds like whatever is down there would be a force for good. More like your mother-in-law-is-coming-for-a-nice-long-visit kind of bad." He adds with a slight shudder.
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Insight
As Daryl runs his normal detection routine, he is surprised by the unexpected results. He draws back, and if his scales could pale they would.
"I...I... something is afoot here that I've never experienced before. It is neither fiend nor undead... but evil. Evil I tell you of a type that transcends what we know of the modern world".
He then draws back and looks at the contract.
"I have consulted with Enlil... and his will is that what we are about to undertake is of vital importance. And while I don't know if I trust this man or not, I do know that I must go and find... and eradicate this force before it does the same to us".
Daryl Steps forward, and signs the document.
Falko, the undead do not shy under your powerful gaze, but continue their commanded toils. You watch as a pair of skeletons (died from fire no doubt) slowly pile large stone building materials into a push cart higher and higher. The axle suddenly buckles under the load crushing one of them into a pancake, its arm waving from underneath uselessly for something to hold onto. But of course nothing comes to assist, its shadowy partners simply uncaring.
IN HUMAN FORM ;D
"However, you seem very eager for us to agree to no compensation," Arran the Druid comments.
"I would suggest that Rastol Shan and Mulmaster receive Finlogan's share of Thayan treasury. I will go fetch him to sign your contract."
"I'm certain Master Finlogan has no need for Thayan platinum
"Hmm. I know not if I should take offense to that, servant of Finlogan. Ours is an Art of Words, not the dead. Of course that is the nature of perception...its folly is to misunderstand, however wise the observer is...the truth can remain just out of grasp. But I would hope your master look to our efforts at rebuilding Mulmaster as a sign of our desires to increase our social standing. Much has changed in Thay over the last few decades!"
Daryl Steps forward, and signs the document.
At Daryl's words, the Zulkir's eyes glimmer with joy and he clasps his hands together delightfully "Faaaaantastic! Woe to those who might oppose the Power of Zigguraxus." He snaps a finger to one of his bodyguards who carries over a large box full of potions and scrolls.
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Lindaer was the first to sign the contract. As much as he suspected some sort of treachery in this, it was likely of the material kind. He couldn’t count how much gold he had lost over the past century. Not that he cared. He had homes provided to him in several communities, in which he knew that he had a place amongst the people. What good was more gold in the long run? He pitied those who allowed mere metal to drive so much of their lives.
"Ahhh....yes. The contract." The goblin shakes his head sadly. The thought of willingly accepting the coin of necromancers in a contractual bargain being a step too far for even his open-minded ethics. "Unfortunately I am already obligated to the Grand Caliph and as such would be obligating him and the people of Zakhara should I sign such a document, if it were even possible for me to do so. So I am afraid I must decline." He adds with a slight bow of the head to the Zulkir.
"However, I will make the journey as that does seem to be the meaning behind my original charge of discovering this potential threat to my land and people."
He looks to the exit, ready to leave the cramped confines of the death-stench filled tent.
"You say you've already set up supply lines to this Glacier of the White Worm, so I take it you have directions to lead us to the camp?"
The Zulkir doesn't dare question the rationale of the dangerous goblin as another of his entourage hands over a soft deer skin map "It should pose no problem getting there. There are horses available, if that suits you. Of course there's also been reports of a family of white dragons in the area, but I've been told they steer well clear of the facility..." he footnotes dismissively.
IN HUMAN FORM ;D
Having waited for an opportunity to leave that did not happen, Arran the Druid steps over and looks over the goblin's shoulder at the map.
"Are we done here, Zulkir? I think those who would sign your contract have signed it."
"I need to contact and confer with Master Finlogan. Maybe he can meet you at the Southroad Keep where you can plan the mission."
"One last thing, Zulkir? How did the bodies get here? Did they walk all the way and arrive with that protective shell on them? Doing his best Colombo impersonation.
"One last thing, Zulkir? How did the bodies get here? Did they walk all the way and arrive with that protective shell on them? Doing his best Colombo impersonation.
"An astute question. They were discovered two days just outside the Southroad Gate. How they escaped the notice our supply line remains a mystery...I pray nothing has befallen our forward posts. As for the shell, I know not...its structure is unlike any metaphysical construct I have seen, though it does somehow seem anchored to the pockmarks here."
As the party regroups to wait on Finlogan's arrival, Rastol Shan is there to meet with you as well. Assuming someone explains what was discussed with the Zulkir, he concurs "...agreed, the Red Wizards are acting curiously magnanimous. I know no other option than to work with them...at least for the time being. The Zhentarim have always been our strongest supporters...our Lords, even. They seem unable or unwilling to engage us during this desperate time..."
"I have one final favor, a request. Fly my banner on the trek. Let the downtrodden people of Mulmaster see that heroes ride in the name of law and order, for their protection." the Senior Cloak implores.
Szasa makes a show of reading the contract, but in actuality she is just scanning for words like servititude, slavery, service, and the like.
When she finishes (assuming she doesn't find anything sneaky like that), she says "Where's my copy?" feigning looking around before holding up the quill.
Szasa, nothing seems amiss with the contract. As much as youd like to break the Zulkir's perfect teeth, it appears he is genuinely appealing to you for help. "Ah! Your copies will be following along in the supply chain, my good Hurricane. Do not expect a delay of more than a day, we have quick scribes."
"Understandable." says Szasa with a 'what can you do' look on her face. She starts to write, then pauses and says, without looking up "Do you swear to Mystra on your magic that this contract will be exactly the same as the one you will present me with later?" Her writing pauses while she waits to hear his answer.
"Oh ho! From one perspective, that such thing would make me very clever. From another, that such thing would make me very disintegrated. Dar'lon Ma prefers himself integrated, Lady Szasa, moreso than he prefers himself clever. I so swear it. I can only once more offer my assurance that I desire to do business with you in earnest." he bows.
The Thayans supply you with horses and more than a few essentials: cold weather gear, climbing kits for ice and mountain, and absurdly high quality rations (fresh goat milk, berries, nuts, and artisanal breads...not exactly the trail rations that might be more practical). There are a number of small labeled packs that more closely resemble a traveling merchant's wares than ranger supplies.
"You're certainly smarter than you look." chuckles Szasa as she signs the contract.
Szasa collects the offered supplies and joins the others riding out. AFter the group is outside the view of the city, she will says "Hold up a moment, please. I want to store this stuff."
Dismounting, Szasa opens her portable hole and then climbs down into it and stores the proffered gear then climbs back out and closes her portable hole and restores it.
"There, all stored."
Daryl retrieves Greywind from the stable and mounts up to begin their journey. He leads the provided horse behind him, with some of the non-essentials packed on it's broad back.
Daryl says a silent prayer as the group prepares to depart.
"My I bestow the blessings of Enlil upon those who chose to honor the contract"?
IN ACTUAL REAL FORM ;D
While everyone is getting ready at the Southroad Keep, a wood elf of average height with short orange red hair strides toward them with purpose. He wears veteran traveler's gear over studded leather armor and shoulders a haversack, shield, longbow, and quiver. Strapped to the outside of this haversack is a saddle. His weapon's belt carries a sheathed scimitar. In his right hand, he carries a staff (different shape and color than Arran's staff). On his head, he wears a plain helmet.
With a broad smile, he approaches Lindaer. They clasp arms that they quickly pull into a heartfelt embrace. "It's been too long, Lindaer. You look well. Arran told me that we have an interesting mission in front of us. Who's going with us?"
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Lindaer smiled as his old friend approached. ”And I assume that you were a bird watching from above the entire time?” He said with a knowing look in his eyes. Given how quickly he came, the druid couldn’t have been far. ”Come, old friend. It is good to have you here. I wish I could say you looked well, but what meaning does that have for someone who can change their form? Anyways. It is most fortuitous, for our companions are all accomplished...*ahem* heroes, in their own right.” He thought back to Lady Szasa‘s threats with some apprehension. He hoped that the word was correct. ”When such a gathering takes place, it almost inevitably means that true danger is before us.”
"I have one final favor, a request. Fly my banner on the trek. Let the downtrodden people of Mulmaster see that heroes ride in the name of law and order, for their protection." the Senior Cloak implores.
He sighs heavily, rolling up the banner and putting it quasi-ceremoniously back in his desk. "Hope has abandoned these lands..."
Seeing the disappointment and genuine despair on Shan's face, Tarn grabs the man's arm as he starts to put the banner away.
"I will carry the banner of the survivors of your city alongside that of the Grand Caliph. Lady Fate has brought us together and the Loremaster teaches tolerance and charity." He gives Shan a long look. Then holds out his hand for the banner. "Perhaps there are others in this vast world who would help your city rebuild should your people seek a new way of seeing things and wish to take a path...less filled with necromancers and their undead minions."
IN ACTUAL REAL FORM ;D
Finlogan makes a point to meet, greet and exchange pleasantries with Lady Szasa, Tarn, Daryl and Falko. He inquires if Arran the Druid behaved well to provide feedback to his training.
"We can travel overland, but the glacier will prove challenging. I can wind walk us there tomorrow. It would take us less than four hours from here." The wood elven hierophant offers.
"We can ride or fly out of town today, and wind walk after breakfast tomorrow. It would give us time to get to know one another and prepare for archaeology in the homelands of white dragons."
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”I can think of no reason why not to.” Lindaer had planned on flying there on his carpet of leaves. A rare artifact, each leaf had been carefully etched with a prayer to the Leaflord. When the right word was spoken, they joined together and flew, carrying whomever spoke the correct words. It was very similar in nature to Tarn’s carpet...only Lindaer’s was likely much less comfortable. Avoiding a prolonged journey on it sounded good to him.
Szasa was about to offer to carry the banner, but Tarn beat her to it. She nodded at Tarn.
At Finlogan's offer to use Wind Walk, Szasa agrees, but adds "I could also try teleporting us there, but it's risky without having been there before. Your way is probably better to get there, and I will get us back here."