The Thaythilorian regional embassy of the Steppes of Blode Region, one of the many names for the inhospitable territory on the steps of the Ravenlands of the Blood Mist on the northern shores of the Sea of Blood which includes the foreboding reaches of the Hornbreaker and Thornsaw forest, the drow enclaves of the Moon Lake, and the city-states of Phloon and Malvent, stands on the north of the walled enclosure which defends the harbor of Malvent. It was established, like all of the embassies, by the direct order of the Father of Obedience, Supreme Leader of the draka, master race of the Scarlet Brotherhood and future rulers of all Caeril, Speaker of the Blood Gods, and Emperor of the Hidden Empire. These institutions present themselves to foreigners as cultural centers, and are ostensibly administered by the civilian civil service of Thaythilor, consisting largely of bored second and third children of aristocratic plantation holders who have been sent abroad to gain wisdom and avoid conflict with their more-favored siblings. However, they are in fact the locus of external intelligence gathered by the Hidden Empire -- every one of the embassies hosts members of the various secret societies that comprise the Scarlet Brotherhood which truly rules the land of Thaythilor, not the citizen's senate in the civilian capital of Arkona. As such, members of the Scarlet Spires and other mage guilds, as well as priests of the Blood Gods and others operate in the shadows from the safety of the embassy. The embassy sits on a small island in the River of Evening Vespers, connected to the mainland of Western Malvent by a heavily guarded bridge.
It the representatives of these ulterior interests that have now been summoned to the most well-guarded chambers of the embassy to receive a communication from Thaythilor itself. What the import of this message might be is uncertain. Recent rumors in the city speak of the disappearance of an apprentice of the great wizard Mordenkainen the Magnificent, as well as new predations along the Sawbreaker road which runs along the coast of the Sea of Blood, through the treacherous depths of the Hornbreaker and Thornsaw forests, between Phloon and Malvent. The current reports of the vast spy network of the Hidden Empire, surprisingly, indicate that the slavers of the Citadel of Tarim, who dominate the western coast of the Sea of Blood and are habitual rivals of the slaving ships of Thaythilor, are not to blame for these recent interruptions in trade on the Steppes of Blode. Perhaps all will be made clear during the audience...
It is here on the small island off of Western Malvent that their wagon has stopped. The long day's ride through the city's disgusting-smelling outskirts, the loud hammering in the mercantile districts, and eventually to this most sacred of places has been long; yet it is far more favorable to her eyes than initially thought. Its unique architecture speaks of their own people, as opposed to this gothic trash the rest of the city is decorated in.
"Come, Logain," she delightfully calls in a soft voice. Her statement isn't a command, as she knows she wouldn't ever have to order her protector to follow her. It is more an encouraging statement related to her boredom--that they get this over with and back traveling.
At least the ride into town delivered with it some interesting scenery, some sights of what the place is like, and what to expect.
Opal makes her way inside the embassy. At the desk, she presents her official documents, seemingly manifesting from nowhere, and thus gains entry by command of their superiors. With Logain, she moves to where all eventual members of the Hidden Empire gather for such...clandestine meetings.
Thankfully their previous night in a local inn bore fruit. She learned the tragedies of the local people, the harrowing tale of those who escaped various abductions, and heard the tales of those who have lost loved ones. To her, it pays to be social, which is perhaps information other assassins may have missed. Her nightly sensual cavorting revealed much.
Underneath, she wears a racy bralette that can only slightly be seen peeking out in places that hint at it. Whatever she is wearing just from the hints given, speaks to something truly appealing underneath.
Opal's face is currently obscured only very slightly by a matching veil that dangles strands of beautiful shimmering ruby-like gems down to the depth of her chin, yet at the same time, her features can perfectly be understood and are quite stunning. The woman appears to be decently equipped as an adventurer despite her (mostly) demure outfit. On her hip, she has some minor potions that seem more alchemical rather than magical and a small bag that appears nearly empty. A crossbow is at her side; a high-quality cloak on her back (matching the dress); and traveling boots upon her feet to guard against the mud and rain. A short, almost walking stick is upon her back as she enters, and removed as she sits, only to rest on her lap as she crosses her long legs.
Though she seems to be demure in nature, there is something tempting about her. Aside from her appearance, there seems to be a divine draw that either comes from her goddess or comes from years of enticing others into the depths of lustful sins. Her mere presence may incite a raw, primal feeling even in the asexual or those less inclined to lust after women.
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Although it did surprise her that the slavers of the Citadel of Tarim are not responsible, she does still suspect a connection. That said, she awaits further information during the gathering and is why she came. Upon entering the room, Opal will calmly move with grace over to a chair either in the center of the room, or near to the center of a table (if that is what this meeting is around). How can people lust after her or turn their minds to envy if she is tucked away in a corner? With Logain there, she feels perfectly safe. Besides, to Opal, she is a trophy meant to be kept on the mantlepiece, not hidden away. Her discerning eyes pierce the hearts and minds of those who look her way and she determines what their desires may be.
Curiosity was, in itself, a curious thing. It was mostly curiosity that kept Rani adventuring, at this point, she had to admit. Sometimes the information she got was important, it was true, but a lot of the time it was simply a novelty, something to know. It was simply more useful than coin tended to be. There was a point where gold simply no longer held any meaningful measure of use. She wasn't there yet, she had to admit. She could provide herself with a luxurious life style, it was true, but she couldn't be certain she could defend it.
More, she hadn't proven herself the strongest of her siblings, and that simply would not do.
So it was with bemusement that Rani journeyed to the embassy, vaguely curious as to what might awaiting her. She had done jobs for them before, usually keeping someone they need alive while they carried out some vital task of there own. For a few it had been to tattoo something onto there skin, whether a punishment or a reward. On the plus side, she knew that they would likely pay her well, or offer something suitably useful, exciting or important to make it worth her while.
As befitting her station and her power, Rani rode atop a palanquin as far as she could. Born on the shoulders of six masculine looking figures in loose trousers and open vests, the thing was clearly magical in nature. It was Rani's prefered mode of transport, and her home. It followed her whim, whether to be building or tent or this throne-like construct. The rest of Rani's household, in various pleasing forms, lounged upon the palanquin with her. They were not real, as such, but simply servitors bound to Rani in every way. Therefore, they were utterly trustworthy in a way people would never be.
Rani herself was clothed in a long gown of warm bronze, stopping just short of her feet, bare but for a variety of rings and split to mid thigh. Her left shoulder was bare, the other part covered by the gowns strap. And about 80% of her expose skin was covered in tattoos - vines with thorns and swirls of burning fire ink. From above her hairline and scalp down to the soles of her feet, and presumably, everywhere between. Chains of thin spin gold covered one arm and a pair of ribbons floated behind her, from the open back of her gown.
Once it was no longer possible to be carried, due to stairs, doors or simple politeness Rani dismounted, aided by two of her Household. One part was as a show of her power, and one part was to let people think she needed such help.
Confident, despite her location and her tiny physique, Rani strode to join the meeting.
Ylvahild arrives at the embassy feeling extremely wary and annoyed.
When she received word from Svenr-- one of her tiny domain's half-giant subjects who gathers and transports their trade goods to the prime material plane-- that the Red Wizards of Thaythilor desired a word with her, she had experienced a sinking feeling that her idyllic existence in Tårnheim was unlikely to remain free and unmolested for much longer. It wasn't exactly a threat, according to Svenr, but it had the ring of "calling in favors" to it, and the unspoken warning that if she didn't come when they summoned her, they would be at the least reluctant to deal with her in the future. That could make her existence very difficult.
But of course, Ylvahild also didn't want to appear to be the Red Wizards' lackey. She was Tårnheim's sovereign, a powerful witch in her own right, and a dangerous adversary when challenged. So, she had to make it look as if going to the meeting at the embassy was her own choice, or at least fit in with her plans. She did hope very much to increase the size of her domain at some point in the near future, and to do that she would need another scroll of permanency or the services of a friendly wizard in her own weight class. Either would be expensive, and it would be a long time before the sale of her potions and raw materials earned her that much gold. But perhaps she could leverage her involvement in whatever Thaythilor wanted of her into payment for services rendered? That had possibilities.
So, she set about making herself as presentable as possible, arrayed in her finery as a noble giant warrior as much as queen of an otherworldly realm. As is normal for her when traveling, she wears a fur-lined gown made of fine leather, cloth, and silver accents. She carries her legendary mirrored shield Skjǫldrspegill and is accompanied by her faithful companion Sundøyr, who for this august occasion has altered his size to be small enough to ride on her oversized back like a snail shell. She also wears her crowned helm and reflective crystal necklace. It would not do to appear stingy with her enchanted items in front of all the elite magic-users of Thaythilor, or so she imagines herself to be for this audience.
The journey was not difficult, and yet when she arrives she is still in a foul mood. She has a brief argument with the seneschals-- or administrative staff, or whatever they are called-- about her credentials, and she is forced to use her witch magic on them to make them treat her with deference and respect, before she resorts to simply browbeating them into cooperating. Once proof of her invitation is sorted, she is directed to the large but secluded chamber in the embassy where the meeting is to take place. When she enters, she throws the doors open with a bit too much strength, enough that they bounce against the walls and slam shut behind her as she strides in. Her long, white hair has puffed out like an octopus's limbs in water and is seemingly trembling with malice. Frowning at the small size of the chairs, she elects instead to stand, moving to a window so she has something else to look at until the session begins.
Login accompanies Opal through Malvent in full gear - with this meeting coming from an official summons, it wouldn't be proper to do any less - his blood red helmet and armor obscuring most of his features, but only the blind would miss the movements of this mountain of a man. He maintains position at Opal's right and a half-step behind at all times, unobtrusively heading off and redirecting at least one potential pickpocket - they seemed disgruntled with being foiled, but it may have just been the manhandling by Logain causing their irritation. Logain is under no illusion that Opal wouldn't have see them coming, but it is his sworn duty to protect her, even from the riffraff that she could slaughter with a wave of her hand.
When they cross the threshold into the embassy, Logain removes his helmet and rests it on a hook on his chest plate, but otherwise surveys the throng of people arrayed throughout the foyer with a keen eye, mentally cataloguing the people around and automatically noting the location of every door and every guard posted. They move through the embassy with practiced ease, having visited this location several time previously and Logain takes a position giving view of the room and any doors leading in, and leaning a shoulder very slightly against a wall on the opposite side of the room as Opal - the only display of casual ease he allows himself while waiting for their benefactor(s) to arrive - and rest his left hand on the pommel of the obviously magical sword at his hip.
When a short, tattood woman enters the chamber, her attitude suggests she may have been one to call the meeting, but as she overlooks Opal and Logain himself, she doesn't appear to be looking for others who may have been called in and waits in her own manner as the rest.
Logain shifts his hand onto the hilt of his blade - instead of its pommel - when the doors slam open at the half-giant's entrance, but he merely arches an eyebrow in amusement when he registers that it was an accident and gives Opal the smallest of grins, barely a twitch of his cheek, but he knows she caught it.
The room remains in silence so far, as it fills, but Logain is sure that won't last much longer.
A red-cloaked, but clearly wirey figure with a thin face approaches. His skin is slightly darkened, his hair short but styled. The deep blue eyes starkly contrast the rest of his silhouette.
He makes only brief eye contact with anyone else, but most of all he is exhaling alot and wearing a high level of stress on his face. Whatever his job is, it’s clearly eating at him and many would guess him older than he really is. Any personal effects, tools, or equipment he might carry are all concealed under the cloak or clothing.
He mutters, semi-audibly. I’ve been trapped in that damned office for weeks. Up to my eyeballs in... contracts to review, and I get this summons to set me back from completing it and ever getting back to real field work. This had better be good. He almost lets "assassin contracts" slip there.
Truth be told, he held outside hope that this meeting would result in his very delivery from the current bureaucratic hell in which he resided. Sethris performs many roles in the position he’s built for himself within the ranks of the Red Mantis, but barrister’s aid was supposed to be a very marginal means to an end, especially given his other capabilities. Lately it has come to feel like an all-encompassing dead-end. He’s starting to believe his superiors don’t appreciate his ruthless methods of enforcement when he’s sent abroad. But, he’d worked too hard to get where he was to allow them to stuff him into a corner…
He remembers himself and realizes he’s standing at the desk of the embassy. He extracts the summons letter and shows it to the attendant with a dismissive, withering look and a clearly fake smile.
Once allowed he proceeds to the meeting room and quietly, subtly scans the figures already gathered there, politely nodding at those he knows. He particularly notes those who radiate a significant degree of magical energy. After a time he again remembers his manners and throws back his hood.
They must have thought I was a street thug, skulking about in that. I'm letting work get the better of me.
Lady Aenil Vlos, The Sanguine Angel, Crimson Countess of Dragonsgate, was tired as she rode her black unicorn Sintharia up to the gates of the embassy. There were far quicker means of travelling, but she rather enjoyed riding. However, she had been on the road for over a week, having just completed a successful assassination in the far off city of Sliverymoon. Granted, she took a portal that brought her a fortnight away from Malvent, but it was still a long journey.
She nods to the guards stationed at the gates, and is let through without hassle. The Red Mantis Assassin mask adorning her face is all the proof she needs to be allowed entry, as none would dare wear that mask without actually earning it. Of course, the same could be said for the blood red and black armor she's wearing as well. She guides Sintharia to her private stable, dismounts once inside, and takes out an ebon key from her belt pouch. Turning it in the air, a shimmering portal opens before her, and she leads her companion inside. Affectionately called the Scarlet Citadel, this extradimensional mansion served as her home away from home when she was out on assignment. Comfortably appointed with multiple rooms, it also included a stable for Sintharia, as Aenil wasn't about to leave her friend in the care of mere peasants. After making sure Sintharia had plenty to eat, she goes back through the portal and locks the 'door'. She then takes a moment to remove her mask, shaking out her fiery red hair, and seemingly storing it, her armor and both of her sawtooth sabres within her shadow. Nobody is around to actually witness this, but the effect was still worth noting.
She strides forth from her stable, her soft leather boots barely making a whisper as she walks up the stairs to the embassy's entrance. Once again, she is let in without hassle, as the visage of one of the Vernai of the Red Mantis Assassin is known by most. It also helps that she has rooms here, and so is seen at the embassy often enough. She makes her way upstairs to the meeting chamber not too long after her fellow Thaythilorians arrived. She walks over to them, nodding with respect to Brother Sethris, and Sir Logain, then gives High Priestess Opal a sisterly embrace. "It is good to see you all again my friends. I believe the last time the four of us were all together, we were infiltrating Castle Sunfire. Well, three of us were anyways, as if I recall, you were stomping around louder than a drunk minotaur in an antique shop." She says with a melodious laugh, and looks pointedly at Opal's protector.
Aenil is a rather tall, lithe young lady with an obvious dancer's body. She moves with the grace of ballerina, and the poise of a noble. Her long bright curly red hair is in stark contrast to her pale skin that almost glows in the right light. Her piercing, cold blue eyes take in even the most minute of details, as she habitually scans the room for threats.
She's clothed in a loose fitting dark purple tunic, and black, sensible breeches. Soft, supple leather boots adorn her shapely legs. Her only accessories are a single belt pouch, and a silver necklace with the holy symbol of Achaekek dangling from it.
Her entire outfit does not seem to speak of her being one of the most deadly assassins in existence, but rather gives off the impression of perhaps a wealthy merchant or minor noble's daughter.
Opal's eyes settle on each person that enters and looks them up and down. Each one she finds appealing in their own way. The gold chains that adorn Rani, whatever open or secretive hints of tattoos, and the sheer beauty of the woman make her heart smolder. There is no doubt in Opal's eyes that she wishes to see the secrets of all her tattoos, even those hidden in the remaining 20%. To the half-giant, a look of amusement flutters over her face as Ylvahild tears at the doors to make entry. The fact she made Logain on guard, even to a small degree, makes her smile ever so slightly. Ylvahild's pure size spurns something adventurous in the priestess. In a way, it almost makes Opal more excited to think that one day she tempt the interests of Ylvahild and her, also very massive, bodyguard to recognize their immense size and consider more, positive conversations. As Opal sees again the thin, red-cloaked attorney and she finds herself once more drawn to his wise, blue eyes. She is not always drawn to beauty and brawn. Sometimes those who have great minds appeal to her far greater.
To each she gives a warm, welcoming wave (except the pissed-off half-giant for the moment) with her usual subtle smile, but as Aenil enters, she stands with her staff in hand and welcomes her friend with a return hug and a kiss on the cheek. As they mostly separate, Opal's hand lingers in comfort at Aenil's back as the woman pokes and prods her protector for an event that was most definitely her own fault.
"What a wreck that was. We still pulled it off. So many squeaking and crunching sounds...tsk tsk. What I want to know is, what has you in such a sour mood?" she asks the half-giant Ylvahild. Her question is mostly a diversion away from Logain revealing the truth about why he was so loud.
Ylvahild turns from gazing out the window, clearly startled by Opal's addressing her. She quickly composes her features into what she seems to think a benevolent, calm smile, but her large frame is noticeably tense and her expression is haughty and condescending . Her eyes flicker over the others, wary, but she responds simply in Common, her heavy accent decorated with notes of Giant. "I? I vas not at all happy vith ᚦe våy ᚦat ᚦe embassy staff vas treated me, for I am not as vell-known here as some of you seem to be. It is no thing for you to concern yourself, I am being sure." She hesitates, perhaps unwilling to continue a one-sided conversation, but soldiers on after only a brief pause. "Perhaps you are knowing of me already, I am called Ylvahild. I assume ve can be forgoing our formal titles in ᚦis place? It is our pleasure for you to be meeting me." She looks at the others with a cocked eyebrow, something resembling curiosity in her expression. "Vould you be introducing me to your friends? Perhaps ve vill be vorking togeᚦer in ᚦe near future, and it is guud for us all to be somevhat acqvainted."
Suddenly, like an unexpected torrent, a funereal hush falls over the audience room. The red walls and furnishings are illuminated by an eerie red light which flickers for a moment. The attendees of the Scarlet Brotherhood, all clothed in slick red, hooded cloaks, of an appearance like a pool of viscous blood which had been wrapped around their bodies, and whose hood obscure their faces, take up posts around the perimeter of the audience hall. In unison, they begin to chant in a deep, guttural language whose brutal intonations resonate uncomfortably around the chamber. Chant.
The center of the audience chamber is dominated by a black obelisk apparently made of obsidian. It is streaked with red veins that begin to weep slightly as the chanting begins. The obelisk contorts like a living being, gradually assuming the shape of a hooded form. The chanting reaches a crescendo, and ceases with the full emergence of the entity from the obelisk. The hooded attendants than prostrate themselves on the floor before the dark figure.
The important is unmistakable -- the legendary Father of Obedience, a mysterious entity otherwise nameless, Emperor of the Hidden Empire, Master of Whispers, Speaker of the Blood Gods, the Supreme Leader of the Domination of Thaythilor, the First Blood of the Draka, has chosen to appear in audience through these supernatural means. A long, tense moment passes before the Father of Obedience begins to speak. His words, which emerge from lips completely hidden under a high-pointed hood, are conveyed by a voice which is deeper and harsher than that of any ordinary human.
"You have been summoned here this day by the direct order of the Blood Gods. The Crimson Bat has whispered in my ear of several momentous events that are currently transpiring and shall soon take place, and that are of the greatest significance to the future of our glorious Race."
"It is, I am sure, well known to all of you, that, at the Dawn of Time, the forces of Law warred with the forces of Chaos for control of the Cosmos."
"On the side of Law, the Wind Lords are ancient and powerful entities from the earliest ages of the world, created from the breath of the giant Aurgelmir. Chergui the East Wind is the most benevolent to mortals, embodying the cleansing winds that blow from the sea to soothe the Stone Desert’s heat, and acting as a calming influence on his peers. Conversely, Shamal the West hates mortals and wants to drive them from the spirits’ lands. The West Wind is an enveloping gale of rocks and grit that scours flesh from bone and wears mountains into dust. Khamsin the South Wind embodies the hot winds that blow from the southern wastes. A being of extremes, both in temperature and temperament, Khamsin’s opinions float between those of his fellow lords. Opposing these three is Boreas, the North Wind who has been reborn as a true god."
"Meanwhil, on the side of Chaos, the Queen of Chaos is an obyrith who rose to power in the Age Before Ages. While the obyrith plotted and warred amongst themselves, the Queen alone looked past the Abyss and discovered life in other planes of existence. Some of this life, namely the souls of the Chaotic Evil dead, seeped into the Abyss, which the obyrith shaped into the tanar'ri. The Queen of Chaos decided to launch a war to conquer the multiverse and rallied all of the obyrith lords to her cause. Those who refused she set an example of by either killing or banishing them. The only exception to this was Dagon, whose power she feared."
"Eventually, the Queen took as her consort a tanar'ri demon lord called Miska the Wolf-Spider, and made him head general of her army. With Miska in command, she practically guaranteed the cooperation of the treacherous tanar'ri. She murdered the then-Prince of Demons, Obox-ob, and bestowed his title on Miska."
"The Battle of Pesh was the climax of this campaign where the armies of Chaos were led by Miska the Wolf-Spider, while the forces of Law were championed by the Vaati, or Wind Lords. Desperately outnumbered, the Wind Lords fashioned the Rod of Seven Parts, a weapon powerful enough to kill Miska in a single strike. Yet the Battle of Pesh was a draw, as neither Law nor Chaos won the day. The Wind Lords were decimated, but in the final moments their leader struck Miska with the Rod, but rather than being slain the Wolf-Spider was mortally wounded and imprisoned for eternity within the Abyss. The resulting balance created the multiverse as it now exists, with a tense stand-off between order and anarchy. The fate of the multiverse is in the hands of the wielder of the Rod of Seven Parts, for it can still both slay Miska and free him."
"Because the Rod is so potent, it cannot be conventionally protected. Therefore, to keep it safe the Wind Lords designed the separate sections of the Rod to scatter around the globe whenever its full powers were employed by striking Miska. Each piece of the Rod both leads and urges its bearer in the direction of the next sequential section."
"The Crimson Bat and the other Blood Gods believe that a piece of the Rod has been recovered by the half-elven cerebremancer Ezria Santhrasslisan the Insightful, an apprentice and confidant to the archmage Mordenkainen the Magnificent, head of the Circle of Eight, and one of our most powerful foes. However, our spies indicate that she has recently disappeared during her stay in the city-state of Malvent, and that her current whereabouts are unknown, even by her famous patron. Moreover, her disappearance appears to coincide with that of many other psions and entities with psychic ability throughout the region of the northern Sea of Blood. If we could recover Ezria and extract the location of the Rod from her, the Hidden Empire of the Scarlet Brotherhood may be able to bring forth its plans for Caeril much quicker than we had ever imagined. With the power of the Rod, we would be able to easily conquer all lands between the Rapier Coast and Thaythilor."
"We do not currently know who is to blame for Ezria's disappearance. There are a number of possible suspects."
"First, it is possible that the rulers of this city-state have captured Mordenkainen's apprentice. The city of Malvent is ruled ruled by the self-styled Supreme Scepter Bellas Thanatar and the Merchant Dukes, named Pirithin Alagost, Iritar the Dark, Saleska Mintharl, Halabankh Ormsarr, Haldyn Stormkin, and Alascartha Vyperwood. They are all former adventurers of the company known as Bellas's Band, and each of them grew has grown increasingly wealthy and powerful by following him and supporting his rule. In all decisions on major policies, each duke has one vote while Bellas has two. Nevertheless, the Dukes wielded significant power. Under them were two barons, Uthorn and Wenszrin. Below the Merchant Dukes and their barons, the Council of Lords rules over the city of Old Malvent, though they are more often concerned with affairs that could line their coffers. All members are required to be merchants of some kind and vacant seats can be purchased for at least 100,000 gp while a new one could be created starting at a sum of 2,000,000 gp. Presently, the Nanther, Leiyraghon, and Bruil noble families held all 21 of the council's seats. Four positions in the council have more influence than others. The Lord Chancellor is Chairman of the Council, Treasurer and also Last Speaker. The First Envoy is the Council's First Speaker and Diplomat. The Lord of the Keys is the General of Malvent's army, while the Lord of the Waves is the Admiral of it's navy and Chief Inspector of the city's docks. Below these four lords, all of the others are theoretically equal in influence. The lords meet once a month to discuss issues but these meetings could last up to five days depending on the importance of the topics being discussed and the power plays made by council members. One such meeting will occur tomorrow."
"Other possible suspects consist of the two great thieves guilds of the city -- the Shade Mantle and the Moon Masks."
"The Shade Mantle is a secretive and powerful consortium of thieves' guild in western Caeril that are headquartered in the Unterese city of Bakshishum, far to the south, having relocated from their base in Xisuthros in the Rapier Coast trading nation of Vulkano the century prior. They were formerly the most prominent thieves' guild in the great Rapier Coast metropolis of Deeping Well, but were routed from the city by the Masked Lady Lhestyn Arunsun. They control many of the criminal operations along the Rapier Coast, and are growing into the largest and most prosperous thieves guild in all of Caeril, with ultimate goal of further increasing their collective influence and wealth. They are rumored to have a prominent safe house somewhere in Old Malvent."
"The Moon Masks are a local Blood Sea guild that is headquartered in Malvent, Phloon, Saershar, and several other city-states of the region. They are servants of the vulture-winged goddess Belsameth, Mother of Assassins. They resent the recent incursion of the Shade Mantle into their traditional territory, and a deadly underworld war currently rages between the two guilds. It is possible one of these groups is to blame for Ezria's disappearance. Both are involved in slave trade with several parties, including our own representatives, and those of the piratical Reavers of the Toe Islands of the Sea of Blood, and the Citadel of Tarim, our great rivals in this region."
"As you well know, the Citadel of Tarim, which lies to the east, is built on the bones of an ancient bastion of the giants, children of the Titan Kadum, who once ruled this region. The humans, orcs, half-orcs, and other allies who populate this ancient site of power are servants of Kamus, the dark god of slavery, as well as the White Goddess. Their agents are spread throughout the Blood Sea, and they intend to conquer the entire region in time. It is easy to imagine they may seek some advantage by abducting Ezria as a bargaining chip to manipulate Mordenkainen's relations with the secret society known as the Minstrels, who often thwart the intentions of the Citadel in this region."
"Additionally, Old Malvent is home to many dark cults and the representatives of other power blocs. It is believed that the city sits on the ruins of the ancient Old Sanguinian city of Mondowshan, and that these ruins host several demon cults, as well as a chamber of the Order of the Dracolich."
"We must find Ezria first, and ensure that the Hidden Empire is the first power to set its hands on the Rod of Seven Parts. I charge you to use any and all means to discover who has abducted Mordenkainen's apprentice and capture her for our own ends."
A long pause ensues before the Father of Obedience concludes
"Go at once. Failure in this matter will not be accepted by the Blood Gods."
The visage of the Father of Obedience slowly returns to the obelisk, and the attendees rise from their prostrate positions.
"Well," Rani said as she rose. This was certainly more important - and fun sounding - than previous jobs. Even getting part of the rod would be a tale for the ages, cementing one as a figure for the history books, if you could hold it. It would be exciting to see if it could be done. Of course, there was no chance they were alone.
"It sounds like this task will be long, difficult and require co-operating and all our resources," she addressed the others present. "I have worked with some, and for those who I have no, I am
Rani Nakushi Agneyastra Arya. My task is to make sure that all of you are kept in good health and to strengthen you as needed. I would suggest we make sure that we all understand what the others can do, and then form a plan to find this Ezria with those skills."
Focusing for a moment, Rani had the Veil on her arm solidify into chains. "If you give me your blessings, I will enhance each of you with a Veil of Akashic magic. It will grant you powers and abilities, but will also allow me to fight through you while remaining a distance away. In this way I can block attacks on the vulnerable or lash out at enemies. I can also teleport the injured to me for healing."
Pausing, Rani added, "To begin, however, I am not a huntress in this, I fear. I know the spell Augury, but the half hour limit means it will likely not be what we need. Does anyone else have abilities that might allow us to hunt the target?"
There was also the possibility that the girl hadn't been taken by someone, but was instead choosing to hide herself. That would complicate matters, as it meant none of the likely candidates would be right. But they might have useful information.
Ylvahild exhales slowly. She had certainly gotten herself embroiled in something big beyond belief, now taking her marching orders from one of the most powerful and problematic figures in the whole world. Yet it did not seem like she had a choice. While she looked at it from every angle and calculated in her massive intellect the best possible response, the little woman with the tattoos spoke to try and bring everyone together. Or she seeks to seize this opportunity to take advantage of us, to gain a psychic foothold in each of our ethereal essences, the skeptical part of her mind cautioned. She would have to make sure she took the necessary magical precautions to be able to act as if she trusted this Rani person in the future.
"I am agreement þhat to be succeding ve vill need to puul our resources and come to an understandingness of vhat ve each can duu," she says after a few seconds of thought. "I have also been descendant made from þhese giants of ohld, þhough my immediate ancestors live far to þhe north from here. The forbidden magical secrets of trolldomur flow through my veins, and I trained in how to be fighting from some of þhe best of our race vhen I vas still but a little girl. I am mostly preferring to harry and harass my enemies, to hold þhem down and batter þhem, and allow oþhers to take þheir blood vhile þhey are entangled, for þhis is how I vas taught. You vill see, how I am avakening into a brawl vhen þhe time comes! No qvarter, no mercy to þhose who dare to challenge me." Her pale skin almost glows with equal parts pride and menace, so bright is her passion.
She purses her lips into an enormous thinking frown. "I tuu am being skilled in þhe reading of ohmens and auguries, and vith a bit of time and a safe place from vhich to be gazing into the Great Beyond, I may be able to perform a divination. Þhat vould be letting me to receive in answer to a qvestion a vision of events of up to a veek avay. Perhaps vith þhat sort of guidance ve could proceed more generally, þhen rely on your more immediate magics vhen ve are finding ourselves closer to our prey, yes?" She looks to the others speculatively. "Þhat þhe riddle of the missing magic-uuser vill be being solved is unlikely until ve know vhat everyone else can duu, but I am thinking. After all, þhere must be a reason þhat our patron has chosen each of us to duu þhis thing."
When the Father of Obedience makes his presence known, Aneil bows deeply in proper deference to her patron. She listens intently as he tells the tale of War Between Law and Chaos, which she already knew, but rather enjoyed listening to.
Then he got to the heart of the matter, the missing apprentice, a list of possible suspects, and charging their group with finding both her, and the mythical Rod of Seven Parts.
After The First Blood departed, there was a long silence, which is eventually broken by Rani first, followed by Ylvahild. Both women present interesting magickal solutions, which very well could help them.
Aneil has another idea, however. "While your suggestions of divination magicks hold merit, I believe our best first move is to go and investigate wherever it was Ezria was staying here in Malvent. The four of us from Thaythilor possess ambassadorial status, so it shouldn't be too hard to gain entry to her last known location. We can then try and piece together what may have happened to her, as well as maybe seeing if she left any clues to where she might have gone."
Sethris has trouble hiding his grin as he hears of his inevitable delivery from his current bureaucratic prison.
And such a grandiose challenge. This assignment certainly qualifies as a potential “magnum opus.” Something to give ultimate purpose to one’s existence and validate all their prior achievements.
Among the suspects, he thinks the most of the city's rulers, and the least of the thieves' guilds. For all we know she could have been incidentally killed in one of the many turf wars of those sloppy thieves' guild. I doubt she would have disappeared quietly into slave trade without note of who she is.
His attention snaps back to the room as Aneil speaks. Noddling along, he adds on.
Yes, we ought to have sufficient weight to throw around and obtain accurate information on her last known location. The problem would be if nearby witnesses at that time were killed afterwards. We should not wait for the trail to go cold...
Logain drops into a kneel as the Father of Obedience appears, but stands again after a couple of seconds. Most of the information provided regarding the other groups who may or may not have been involved is already known to Logain, but one piece of information sticks out amongst the rest. "I wonder if we should be so focused on finding Ezria at all. As has been pointed out, Mordenkainen would likely have exhausted all arcane avenues of tracking her and a man of his position would likely have friends and favors owed to account for divine assistance as well. But she was not the only disappearance. It may be easier to track down a less well-known psion who has disappeared; whomever has taken them is unlikely to have thrown as much effort into concealing them as they would for Ezria.
"If they're all held in the same location, and under the same set of anti-divination enchantments, then it won't make a difference which one we search for, but they're likely to have been far more careful abducting Ezria versus any of the others."
Upon seeing the attendees of the Scarlet Brotherhood appear, a smile creeps over her face as they begin to chant. While some may not initially see her as faithful, she is quite devout. She too begins to chant to the murderous one. Her devotion does know limits, but she has never not completed a job, and so is trusted. As the others in their acquaintance mostly do not take part in the festivities, she is all the louder, helping the crowd reach a crescendo. It is clear, Opal can sing well and does this for a living.
As the Father appears, she too will prostrate herself, easily humbling herself before the Dominator of Thaythilor, the fulfiller of her vengeance, as it is his quest to take over this world that will cause the most harm to those she opposes, and his quest is just the beginning.
She rises to remain on her knees as he speaks to still keep the respect. Opal doesn't blame those who are less inclined to, and for Logain's sake, as he rises fully she understands. Like other Red Wizards there, they cannot be protected while their guardians are prostrate on the floor. As he stands next to her, she flashes him a small smile and then focuses once more on the words spoken. It has been some time since they saw this powerful being's presence and it is stirring to her.
At the summit of the meeting, and the vanishing of their ruler, she rises and adjusts her dress to fall back to its proper place.
"I agree," she answers those who have spoken about their suggestions on how to proceed. "However, most strive for divinations and powerful all-seeing spells and hack at nondetection spells like brutish warriors, including the great and powerful 'Mordy', but some forget the simple, more elegant of spells and the appeal of a beautiful face."
With that comment, she moves over to stand in front of the shorter Rani. While not uncomfortably close, Opal is intent on being close to the woman.
"I will allow you to give me your blessing if you, Rani Nakushi Agneyastra Arya, will allow me to temporarily enchant you to see what many have overlooked."
If Rani submits, Opal will draw close to her and will reach out to lightly touch her cheek in sensual caution with the back of her finger. The woman before her is very deadly and it would be foolish to assume she enjoys being touched. Still, some spells require it.
"Such power in these eyes. I'm certain you have little you don't see."
"You have such beautiful features...and this gold brings out the beauty of your skin..." she comments, reaching down to the gold that dances its way across her skin. It may be in the height of Rani's acute senses she may be able to detect the fingers within Opal's palm are taking various forms. The motion is not easily seen, but are somatic components finalized by a sensual touch on her arm. The sensual touch seals the spell.
While it seems like Opal is flirting and toying while complimenting Rani, the next thing the changeling will notice is that her eyes see the city as a whole.
In a soft voice, Opal now directs her. "Focus your mind as though you were asking people in the city about rumors of people missing." Flashes would rush into her mind as though she spend hours doing this, however, would only take seconds. For each short burst of time that passes of the spell, Opal will direct Rani to focus on other topics during the subsequent rounds, including asking about the last seen location of Ezria. Who it was in name who saw her. About Psions missing. Captives taken forcefully. Odd folk in town. Suspicious activities. People kidnapped. Times that people heard screams in the night. Location of Ezria's meeting places, including her workstation, favorite places to visit, and frequently visited places. Any other topic, Rani may select herself. In not much time, the Rajah will have a web of information to paint the best picture of where to look and save them all time without ever touching on anything protected from divinations.
Upon seeing the attendees of the Scarlet Brotherhood appear, a smile creeps over her face as they begin to chant. While some may not initially see her as faithful, she is quite devout. She too begins to chant to the murderous one. Her devotion does know limits, but she has never not completed a job, and so is trusted. As the others in their acquaintance mostly do not take part in the festivities, she is all the louder, helping the crowd reach a crescendo. It is clear, Opal can sing well and does this for a living.
As the Father appears, she too will prostrate herself, easily humbling herself before the Dominator of Thaythilor, the fulfiller of her vengeance, as it is his quest to take over this world that will cause the most harm to those she opposes, and his quest is just the beginning.
She rises to remain on her knees as he speaks to still keep the respect. Opal doesn't blame those who are less inclined to, and for Logain's sake, as he rises fully she understands. Like other Red Wizards there, they cannot be protected while their guardians are prostrate on the floor. As he stands next to her, she flashes him a small smile and then focuses once more on the words spoken. It has been some time since they saw this powerful being's presence and it is stirring to her.
At the summit of the meeting, and the vanishing of their ruler, she rises and adjusts her dress to fall back to its proper place.
"I agree," she answers those who have spoken about their suggestions on how to proceed. "However, most strive for divinations and powerful all-seeing spells and hack at nondetection spells like brutish warriors, including the great and powerful 'Mordy', but some forget the simple, more elegant of spells and the appeal of a beautiful face."
With that comment, she moves over to stand in front of the shorter Rani. While not uncomfortably close, Opal is intent on being close to the woman.
"I will allow you to give me your blessing if you, Rani Nakushi Agneyastra Arya, will allow me to...
The divinations of Opal reveal a curious web of rumors.
The city-streets of Malvent are alive with stories of psions and psychics abducted by some previously-unknown force that is not the slavers of the Citadel of Tarim, heretofore the chief slaving power in the Northern Blood Sea Region. Many such have disappeared in the city near the shores of the River of Evening Vespers. Rampant speculation holds that they are being spirited away either to the subterranean ruins under the city, and thence elsewhere, or shipped by boat down river to some location in the wild hinterlands of the Northern Sea of Blood Region, perhaps even the drow city-states of the Moon Lake to the north of Malvent. Certainly, the waters of the River of Evening Vespers eventually terminate, through an intervening swampland, in the enchanted waters of the unfathomably deep Moon Lake, so it is possible that a difficult route has been joined between the two locations. The dark elves of the Moon Lake city-states are known to collect and send slaves to their subterranean empires, and it is possible that the missing mind magic users and passing through these dark cities on their way to an even darker fate in the Deep Earth. It is rumored in legends that the drow practice rituals in veneration of mysterious gods or demons that devour magic, and perhaps this recent spate of disappearances is related to these legends.
There are rumors of caravans attacked on the Sawbreaker Road between the city-states of Phloon and Uskward to the west and Malvent to the east, and which wind torturously, with the undulations of a dying serpent, through the dense hinterlands of the Hornbreaker and Thornsaw forests. The few surviving witnesses speak of orcs, ogres, ogrillons, trolls, giants, and other twisted children of the bleeding titan Kadum descended from the heights of the Draketooth Mountains to the north, and which divide the territories of the Sea of Blood from the Ravenlands of the Bloodmist. The giantkin appear more organized than they have been at any time since the end of the Divine War, when their kingdom of Thaumka was smashed by the grand alliance of the forces of the upstart gods. The mysterious names of 'The Great Earth Dragon', 'The Defiler', and 'The Slave Lords' and the 'Council of Chains' have been heard in the villages of the hinterlands.
There are similar rumors of the region about the re-building of Castle Perilous, the old redoubt of the Witch King Zhengyi, a yuan-ti abomination who was simultaneously a high priest of orcus and a nethermancer of the greatest ability. It is possible that the revival of the giant power is related to this development. There are similarly rumors of foul stirrings in the ruins of Karin Guldoor -- ancient capital of Zhengyi. The capital of the ancient realm of Angromar was destroyed in a colossal battle between Zhengyi's yuan-ti and undead and forces from the abyss and limbo directed by the agents of the Queen of Chaos. Zhengyi apparently summoned the obyrith and her allies, but then came into conflict with these powers in a great cataclysm that destroyed the evil nation.
Additionally, there are rumors of some kind of strife in the Citadel of Tarim. This dolorous fortress-city on the western shores of the Sea of Blood is ruled by a caste of human and half-orc servants of the god Kamus, lord of slavery, and the white goddess, a brutal divinity who is held by the rulers of the fortress to be the wife of Kamus. Traditionally, the human and half-orc upper caste of the Citadel has commanded a lower-caste of orcs, as well as ogrillons and orogs. However, despite it being denied by the representatives of the Citadel, there is abundant evidence that the lower-caste has rebelled in some fashion, and that the operations of the Citadel have been sorely impeded by this recent overturning of their political system. It seems that many orc followers of the White Goddess, have adopted a new interpretation of their deity in which they seem Kamus as their patrons' oppressor, and believe she has been freed by petitions to an elder elemental power who has interceded on her behalf. Now, her children shall also be freed, and return to their former power that they enjoyed during the Age of the Titans. Many orcs who wear the livery of citadel now appear with a new insignia of the goddess and appear to be operating independently of their former masters. The rulers of the Citadel of Tarim have tried to keep all these matters as discrete as possible, though considerable destruction in the Citadel itself from the rebellion is hard to deny or overlook. They have apparently contracted with devilish entities to attempt to suppress the rebellion. Many half-devils of various descriptions, as well as war beasts borne of this new alliance, have recently appeared among the ranks of the Citadel. Part of this alliance appears to involve entreaties from the followers of Chardun, another god of slavery, who appears may be poised to displace Kamus the Pure, god of xenophobia and servitude, as the chief patron deity of the Citadel of Tarim.
Ylvahild watches Opal perform the arcane ceremony, her curiousity piqued by the opportunity to see a somewhat obscure spell put into action. She had vaguely heard of it, of course, but she had never had occasion to learn or cast it. She frowns with unbridled enthusiasm as Rani conveys the results. As the group begins to discuss what they have learned, she removes her shield from her arm and turns it so she can peer inside. She begins polishing the surface with her braid and chanting a phrase softly in a another language.
After about a minute of performing this ritual, there is a familiar rush of power through the room that suggests someone has cast a spell.
Ylvahild watches Opal perform the arcane ceremony, her curiousity piqued by the opportunity to see a somewhat obscure spell put into action. She had vaguely heard of it, of course, but she had never had occasion to learn or cast it. She frowns with unbridled enthusiasm as Rani conveys the results. As the group begins to discuss what they have learned, she removes her shield from her arm and turns it so she can peer inside. She begins polishing the surface with her braid and chanting a phrase softly in a another language.
** spoiler omitted **
After about a minute of performing this ritual, there is a familiar rush of power through the room that suggests someone has cast a spell.
[dice=Emulate class (Use Magic Device, DC 20), mythic heroism]1d20+33+4
This is the most likely set of rumors to yield the location of the rod:
There are rumors of caravans attacked on the Sawbreaker Road between the city-states of Phloon and Uskward to the west and Malvent to the east, and which wind torturously, with the undulations of a dying serpent, through the dense hinterlands of the Hornbreaker and Thornsaw forests. The few surviving witnesses speak of orcs, ogres, ogrillons, trolls, giants, and other twisted children of the bleeding titan Kadum descended from the heights of the Draketooth Mountains to the north, and which divide the territories of the Sea of Blood from the Ravenlands of the Bloodmist. The giantkin appear more organized than they have been at any time since the end of the Divine War, when their kingdom of Thaumka was smashed by the grand alliance of the forces of the upstart gods. The mysterious names of 'The Great Earth Dragon', 'The Defiler', and 'The Slave Lords' and the 'Council of Chains' have been heard in the villages of the hinterlands.
Rani would have grit her teeth, if not for her own self control. It wasn't that Opal was unattractive - and Rani was well aware that she, herself, was quite appealing to the eye - but the idea of being used by someone else, empowered by anothers spell, that sat poorly with her. She was the Rajah, the ruler. She who gifted her allies with strength, power and understanding. To accept such from another was uncomfortable, alarming. Normally, unless she trusted someone, she would consider it dangerous. And she was under no doubts that this was a dangerous person offering her power.
On the other hand, it was a dangerous person, with other dangerous people looking on. To refuse when having been ordered by such a being was not a wise move. And to kill her now, at the start of this quest, was a terrible idea. Stupid people did not gain this kind of power because someone else killed them far ealier in there career.
Instead, Rani chose to take this as a trade of powers. A trade was something she could live with more easily than a gift, even if it was semantics in her own mind. "I am told gold suits my colouring," she said with a smile as Opal went to work.
She relaxes, allowing the unusually sensual spellcasting to flow through her without resistance, but still not entirely trusting it even as she does. She has her own gifts, if needed, but instead she relays the information as in flows into her mind.
She relays the information as it comes, not bothering to hold any back. None of this is a real prize, anyway, and it's more likely her own goals and desires will be met if her current team mates are able to use the information effectively.
including asking about the last seen location of Ezria.
Who it was in name who saw her.
The last known individual to see Ezria was her confidant Carathis Scrollseeker, a sage of the Citadel of the Lantern, a great repository of knowledge on the Rapier Coast.
Location of Ezria's meeting places,
Ezria used to meet Carathis at an inn known as the Floating Flame, located in eastern Old Malvent, on the far side of the river.
including her workstation,
Ezria lived at the Floating Flame during her temporary residence in the city on behalf of Mordenkainen; it is a well known establishment that caters to the nobility and is named for a strange firey apparition which hangs in mid air at the center of its common room.
favorite places to visit, and frequently visited places.
She enjoyed visiting the priests of the psionic dragon god Saridor, and one of the dragonborn priests, was a particular friend of hers. She undertook several expeditions to the city-states to the west -- Phloon and Uskward, investigating the ruins of the ancient realm of Angromar, the realm of the yuan-ti Witch King Zhengyi.
Sethris looked on at the various interactions proceeding in the room, wondering how many were comfortably accepted between two individuals and which were begrudgingly suffered. All assembled would soon have their trust tested to accomplish this task.
If Sethris didn’t know better (but he does), the interactions between Opal and Rani might seem as a marriage-bonding ritual to some cultures. Perhaps it was and Opal meant it as a joke. He might ask later.
As his colleagues began turning over stones via whatever impressive means they were empowered with, Sethris began to think of his Mantis lord Achaekek, his particular Blood God.
As Opal and Rani’s spell proceeds, Sethris moves to a corner further away from the group so as to not bother them with his own ritual.
I will be but for a moment. I have my own inquiries to make.
He retrieves an incense censer and begins to fill it up with something crumbly and aromatic. With another tool he tamps it down into the censer and then sets aside the incense boat and tamper, replacing the lid on the censer. Lighting it, he stands up behind it and begins to chant in his own low, barely audible rumble while gripping what you assume to be an unholy symbol in his left fist. The other grips a vial of unholy water that he sprinkles onto and around the incense censer set in front of him.
Ten minutes pass and the last drop of unholy water lands on the censer as the incense expires. At this time Sethris goes quiet, his eyes closed, and no longer responds to queries from the room for a time. Anyone who approaches can hear a series of clicks and clacks being emitted within his closed mouth, approximating something like a mantis speech.
Sethris looked on at the various interactions proceeding in the room, wondering how many were comfortably accepted between two individuals and which were begrudgingly suffered. All assembled would soon have their trust tested to accomplish this task.
If Sethris didn’t know better (but he does), the interactions between Opal and Rani might seem as a marriage-bonding ritual to some cultures. Perhaps it was and Opal meant it as a joke. He might ask later.
As his colleagues began turning over stones via whatever impressive means they were empowered with, Sethris began to think of his Mantis lord Achaekek, his particular Blood God.
As Opal and Rani’s spell proceeds, Sethris moves to a corner further away from the group so as to not bother them with his own ritual.
I will be but for a moment. I have my own inquiries to make.
He retrieves an incense censer and begins to fill it up with something crumbly and aromatic. With another tool he tamps it down into the censer and then sets aside the incense boat and tamper, replacing the lid on the censer. Lighting it, he stands up behind it and begins to chant in his own low, barely audible rumble while gripping what you assume to be an unholy symbol in his left fist. The other grips a vial of unholy water that he sprinkles onto and around the incense censer set in front of him.
Ten minutes pass and the last drop of unholy water lands on the censer as the incense expires. At this time Sethris goes quiet, his eyes closed, and no longer responds to queries from the room for a time. Anyone who approaches can hear a series of clicks and clacks being emitted within his closed mouth, approximating something like a mantis speech.
** spoiler omitted **...
Sethris' mind is smothered by the indelible apprehension of a vastly powerful, vastly inhuman intelligence imposing its awareness onto his mind.
Yes
** spoiler omitted **
NO
The last of the incense smoke disperses as Sethris continues asking Achaekek for aid.
4. Is Ezria still in the city
5. Did Ezria willingly go with whomever she disappeared with?
6. Was Ezria's disappearance planned by her or with her approval?
7. Did Carathis Scrollseeker betray her?
8. Was Carathis Scrollseeker simply present when it happened?
9. Is Carathis Scrollseeker still alive?
10. Is Carathis Scrollseeker still in the city?
The last of the incense smoke disperses as Sethris continues asking Achaekek for aid.
** spoiler omitted **
3. Is Ezria still alive?
Yes
4. Is Ezria still in the city
No
5. Did Ezria willingly go with whomever she disappeared with?
No
6. Was Ezria's disappearance planned by her or with her approval?
No
7. Did Carathis Scrollseeker betray her?
Yes
8. Was Carathis Scrollseeker simply present when it happened?
No
9. Is Carathis Scrollseeker still alive?
Yes
10. Is Carathis Scrollseeker still in the city?
No
Those looking on notice Sethris' expression tightening up as he concentrations and submits the final questions.
12. Is Ezria being taken to Uskward?
13. Is Ezria being taken to the Draketooth Mountains?
14. Is Ezria being taken to the The Great Earth Dragon?
15. Is Ezria being taken to the Council of Chains?
After, he leaves the censer to cool and returns to the table to share what he's learned with the others.
11. Is Ezria being taken to Phloon?
Yes
12. Is Ezria being taken to Uskward?
NO
13. Is Ezria being taken to the Draketooth Mountains?
Yes
14. Is Ezria being taken to the The Great Earth Dragon?
Yes
15. Is Ezria being taken to the Council of Chains?
Yes
Unless Rani attempted to hide the fact she was uncomfortable by bluffing, Opal would likely detect it as she is very perceptive. She is also currently detecting the desires of those in the room. While the spell may be resisted by someone so powerful as Rani , she would try to be sensitive as well. Each of them there are their own person and are highly esteemed. Still, the spell is a resounding success and the beauty before Opal reveals much seen.
"I thank you. And thank you for lowering your resistance for such a spell," her soft husky voice compliments. "I promise...," she will look to the others now while still lingering nearby Rani, "If I intend to cast a spell upon any of you, it will be for your benefit, not harm. I know those in our line of work find it hard to trust, but I think for such a rare opportunity as this, we can all work together. We already have some great leads."
Once Sethris returns, she nods to him and they begin the discussion of all the facts.
"I think starting at her place of residence, even if temporary, will be the best path for us to take. Then shortly after, probably moving on to the Sawbreaker Road."
With her general knowledge of Malvent, she already knows where the Tavern is, on the east side of the river. Now all they need to do is get there.
"Would you prefer me to provide transportation? Whatever method you used to get here, we can travel now by caravan that blurs the lines between this plane and the astral plane. Our speed should be considerable and safe."
Sethris leans back in his chair and looks over at the cooling incense censer. Must be cooled by now...
He looks back at Opal.
Yes, so long as it doesn't make for an overly intrusive or grandiose entrance in front of the other tavern patrons. I suppose we may naturally stand out, but no need to make it worse.
Rani smiled and shrugged at Opal's words. "Old wounds and old stories are the hardest to shed. I have issues with trusting others, but it would be wrong of me to demand such trust from you. Here, allow me to reciprocate."
Focusing, Rani pulled out a weave of magical energy, quickly weaving a an item on the head of the other woman, pulling her hands and the threads around Opal's head as they wove. Given Rani's short stature she tried tiptoeing at first, but when this fails she simply hovers off the floor. As the magic flowed she explained, "My veils are not for me to use - mostly - but to strengthen my compatriots. This one is the Memory. When you harm another - through blade, spell or other power - an image will linger by them. A moment later the image shall explode, doing even more harm."
Finishing, she floated back and down to the ground. "There. I have also bound it to you, and invested some of my Essence within it. Anything caught in its blast will suffer both harm and be Slowed for a time. May it serve you, and our mission, well."
Listening to Sethis and Opal, Rani nodded. "Time cannot be wasted, and alas teleportation is not one of my gifts. Unless we have another place to look then her lodging makes the most sense. If nothing else we should find items - hair, perhaps - to use as a focus for some spells and abilities. Any information on top cannot hurt."
Logain waits patiently to allow Opal, Sethris, and Ylvahild time to complete their divinations, making note of the information discovered. Still, the first suggested course of action doesn't quite sit right with him. "I'm simply playing Asmodeus' advocate, but I think we'd be better off skipping the Floating Flame. If Mordenkainen is searching for Ezria, he would have gone through it already, or tasked others to do so. If he happens to be behind her disappearance, then it's likely he would have scrubbed any traces of her from the location. Either way, it's probably a dead end. With this new information, we ought to head directly towards Sawbreaker Road and see what information we can extract from the giantkin harassing the path there. Or, at the risk of repeating myself, begin our search with one of the other psions who may be less well-taken. I'd rather not attempt to follow Ezria's trail, knowing that anything we're likely to try has already been done by Mordenkainen."
"Good. Then we are bound now," she replies in a subtle, yet hinting sensual nature. It is clear from the tri-dagger emblem upon her belt and the nature of Opal that she is a member of the Calistrian church as well as the Blood Gods. At Sethris' indication for secrecy, she nods her head to him. Her travel to the tavern would be secretive, to a point, but at Logain's interjection of how unsafe the location is, she makes a thoughtful sound. Opal has come to trust his interference. As he further speaks, she briefly pulls up a mirror attached to the side of the buttstock of her crossbow to see the change that Rani has made. From her face, she clearly approves of it.
"Perhaps you are right," she replies to Logain. "I suppose I was too hasty. I would rather not contend with Mordenkainen either...and I do believe he would likely either be there himself or know someone who is aligned with his causes there. Some sneaky bartender who lets him know when others show up asking about his assistant or some sort of backhanded maneuver. We have enough information for now. Our gods are with us," she replies. There is tension in her voice, as it is clear that Opal doesn't easily back down, which speaks volumes of her respect for Mordenkainen as a mage, or the opinion of Logain. It is unclear which is greater.
"We may head to the turn-off to Sawbreaker Road and follow it along for the hope of finding what we wish. And don't worry yourself," she pausingly directs again with hidden sensuality to Rani, "I can teleport us, and know where it is. We have been near there a few times..." she gestures to Logain, "on our extended traversing through the countryside. It shouldn't take us long to get exactly where we need to be."
She looks to everyone.
"Do you have anything you need to bring with you that is not in this room? And do you think we should start then by looking at the Draketooth Mountains where these troublemakers are supposedly coming from or rather the road? I can also offer to scry the location if you wish?"
At the mention of scrying, Opal will pull up her crossbow a little ways (facing downward in a nonthreatening manner) once more and will look at the beautiful mirror laced there. The mage will pull it up, as if to use it for a spell rather than to see her face and new hairband addition. The mirror itself is beautiful and must be thousands of gold in value, with a silver base, gold, mother of pearl, and jade inlay.
Once the trio of spellcasters perform their divinations, and reveal their findings, Aenil makes a suggestion. "I have an office within Sundaraman, which is the capitol of the Draketooth Mountains. Let us travel there, and make use of my contacts to hopefully narrow down our search."
Turning to Opal, she continues. "I have everything I need right here." She says, patting her belt pouch. "I think scrying would be a good idea, though I am unsure what our target should be."
"Everything you need?" she playfully taunts, despite knowing the assassin truly doesn't need her. In answer to her scrying question, she huffs out "Well, I may know the city, but it has certainly grown since last I was there, and I don't know if there is anyone standing where I am thinking of teleporting us. That is what I'd be scrying. I don't particularly feel like being shunted and/or exploding some poor commoner by teleporting a wagon onto his head..." she morbidly chuckles and finally moves from Rani over to Aenil and Logain to await and hear whether everyone is ready or not. As she leaves the woman's side, she observes via her all-around vision whether Rani finds relief in her stepping away.
Sethris again lets a satisfied smile creep onto his face.
Yes, let us travel to the further location.
He walks over to the corner and retrieves his cooled incense censer, stowing it away.
Returning to Opal's vicinity, he confirms. I am ready.
Ylvahild nods somewhat warily. "I vill allow you to transport me and my familiar vith your spell," she says with a hint of formality. "Or perhaps I should say: Sundøyr and I vill allow you to transport us." She approaches, her large form looming over the others, several strands of her white-blonde hair sticking out from her braids like she is charged with static electricity.
Once everybody agrees to teleportation, Aenil taps her holy symbol twice, the pre-arranged signal that let's Opal know to read her mind. The high priestess nods in understanding, and slides up next to Aenil in a blatantly sensual manner. Opal embraces her dear friend, rests her forehead upon Aenil's, wraps her arms around her fellow Thayilorian, and whispers sweet nothings in her ear. All of which is done to disguise the casting of Opal's spell, which links her mind with Aenil's.
The Crimson Countess sends a series of images to Opal that accurately depicts a room she has set aside solely for teleportation purposes within her office in Sundaraman. The room is sparse, with just a plain area rug that takes up most of the floor. There's a small writing desk in case a note needs to be left, and a window that looks out over the city. A few candles provide a decent amount of light , and a stout wooden door presumably leads to the office proper.
Aenil whispers in Opal's ear. "Whenever you're ready."
Opal will give a fading smile to her close friend as she turns to the others. Through her mind, she was able to study the room closely and carefully, allowing her to grasp the intricate details of it and to become familiar with it. Afterward, through short communication with Rani, she will explain that they do have a place for her palanquin if needed. Logain with his wagon as well as he well knows. They would be safe on their demiplane in the meantime until requested.
Once arrangements are settled, Opal will begin the casting of the greater teleportation spell. It is not quite like what you would see in a mage's teleportation circle or a common casting. However, Opal learned it was different. Instead of just waving her hands in random ways and chanting odd words, she sings a beautiful, short, Calistrian hymn. With the grace of the goddess herself, she dances in a ravishing form worthy of her. Each person is touched through her brief dance. By all appearances it may simply seem like she is dancing to entertain them in those short moments, but to the discerning eye, her words and actions are spell components. In the final moment, just a few seconds after she has started, they will find themselves within the office of Aenil, perfectly as it was envisioned in her mind .
As they begin the arrangements, the medium-sized crab hanging on Ylvahild's back crawls over her shoulder and down to her mirrored shield. There, her familiar shimmers and seems to pass through the metal surface.
Ylvahild flinches slightly when Opal touches her, but she sets her jaw and stares into space. Once they arrive at their destination, she makes a curious grasping gesture in front of her shield, and produces her familiar again as if drawing it through a window. It climbs back up her towering frame and settles itself on her shoulders.
In a rare display of trust towards anybody who is not Opal, Logain refrains from drawing his weapon prior to the teleportation, knowing enough about Aenil's personal protections in her spaces to know that there is basically as close to a zero percent chance of an ambush as is possible in a world of arcane and divine magic. He does take a swift look around when they arrive to study the room cataloguing the space as he does everywhere he goes - specifically doorways, shadowed corners and other hiding places, and anything that could be used as a weapon in a worst-case scenario. He makes no move to interact with anything though, waiting for Aenil to lead the way to their destination.
Sethris opens his eyes in the new room and looks around, stopping and every detail and noting it before moving on. His expression is plain for his entire scan. Really, he's also checking the room for signs of ambush or compromise.
Finally, he remarks. Minimal. I like it. One can get good thinking done in a place like this, free from distractions.
He exhales and turns back to the group. So, here is another population on which we can employ Ears of the City. I may commune again with Achaekek tomorrow, but I should probably do this sparingly.
Sethris opens his eyes in the new room and looks around, stopping and every detail and noting it before moving on. His expression is plain for his entire scan. Really, he's also checking the room for signs of ambush or compromise.
[dice=Perception]1d20+28
Finally, he remarks. Minimal. I like it. One can get good thinking done in a place like this, free from distractions.
He exhales and turns back to the group. So, here is another population on which we can employ Ears of the City. I may commune again with Achaekek tomorrow, but I should probably do this sparingly.
The great city of Sundaraman thrives on the bones of ancient ruins, and is the largest population center in the Draketooth Mountains, the dolorous peaks that separate the Steppes of Blode on the northern coast of the Sea of Blood from the Forbidden Ravenlands of the Bloodmist, even further north. It was once a mighty fortress of the pre-Divine War realm of Thaumka, a realm of giants and their kin that venerated the Titan Kadum whose body and ichor now pollute the Sea of Blood. The city of Sundaraman is built in the crater of an extinct volcano, and its lower reaches tunnel deep into the dead fire mount in the heights of the Drakestooth Mountains. Up until recently, it had been a comparatively poorly maintained gathering moot for the dispersed giant clans of the mountains, but it has recently been stunningly reinvigorated in light of the schism within the forces of the Citadel of Tarim. The underclass of half-orcs and orcs that serve the human priest of the slaver god Kamus have risen up, declaring a new revelation that the White Goddess, long considered the docile wife of Kamus, was in fact delivered by the Great Earth Dragon, an antediluvian elemental entity of great power and great wrath. As the self-anointed High Sacerdote of the Great Earth Dragon, Entreri Klimt, a half-orc of mysterious heritage has proclaimed, the White Goddess prayed for delivery from her abusive husband Kamus to the forces of the earth, and the Archomental Ogremoch dispatched its most insidious spawn, the Great Earth Dragon, a dread linnorm of divine power older than Caeril itself, to deliver the forlorn goddess. Now she has called her children to assemble in the heights of the Draketooth Mountains under the leadership of the Tyrant Turrosh-Bolg, the warleader of Sundaraman, as well as the Council of Chains. Now they contest the Citadel of Tarim for control of the Blood Sea, and set their eyes on conquest of the former giant territories of the Steppes of Blode.
Rani explained to Opal that the Palanquin was one of her gifts, a construct created and operated by her will, as with the rest of her household. It meant she had no need to part it, and could change it's form and function - including a manor house in which her Household could attend to most luxuries one could hope for, such as food, drink and entertainment. "You are free to ride on it as well, as is anyone else who has no mount, when we are taking more mundane forms of transport," she added at the end of the explanation.
Looking around the office, Rani glanced out the window. "Should we use Augury to find out how likely our trip will be successful?" It's 30 minute time limit made the spell of limited use, but if there was more likely to be problems it could at least present some warning.
The streets of Sundaraman are made alternatively of a terra cotta so slick and bright that it appears to be coated in viscous blood, as well as broad thoroughfares constructed of the quarried remains of the old Giant Kingdom of Thaumka. Most buildings are new constructions on top of the bones of the old sit -- whether it was a city or a ceremonial complex of some sort, no firm memory remains. The dwellings are made of red brick and concrete, except for the Dread Citadel of the Tyrant of Sundaraman, the great fortress of Turrosh-Bolg and the Council of Chains which stands in the center of the teaming city. On a hill beside the Dread Citadel is the Cathedral of the Drake's Tail, the great shrine of the Great Earth Dragon from which the High Sacerdote Entreri Klimt announces the freedom of the White Goddess and draws new disciples to the cause of the Slavers of Sundaraman from the rebellious ranks of the lower castes of the Citadel of Tarim.
Aenil opens the door out into her office, and ushers her companions through. The rather large room is more comfortably appointed than the room they teleported into, though it's far from luxurious. Still, there a couple of inviting looking couches, along with several chairs of similar quality. Dominating the far right side of the room is a big, dark wooden desk, with a high backed chair. In between the two couches is a well stocked bar, and opposite that is a floor to ceiling bookshelf that's quite full.
The Countess gestures to the furniture, "Please friends, sit, help yourselves to a drink. My factor will be here shortly, as he was alerted when we arrived." She says, taking a seat at the desk, and quickly scans some paperwork.
As Sethris looks around, he will see that Opal doesn't, as if she had been there before, but that was not the case. With her all-around vision, she could see the whole of the room at once, and being the originator of the teleport, she also had seen the vision of this room through the veil of her companion's eyes. Nor does the mage detect as possessing any many upon her person, which clearly from what he's seen, is false.
"I have no qualms about using my spell that spies out the city, but if we have a contact coming, I'll just wait. As for the others, I rarely speak to the gods and bother them," she replies to the slender man with beautiful deep blue eyes. "I find that when you are a servant to a retributive goddess, the last thing you want to do is piss her off by annoying her." A slight chuckle comes her. "She's told me on more than one occasion how much she appreciates that."
She strides first to the bar and finds something that appeals to her, some sort of concoction she can mix up to be a custom cocktail, and then while doing so, will be seeing what she can see on the spines of the books, where each person is sitting, and what is going on outside the windows (all-around vision is odd).
"If you want, I will use the spell on you, Aenil, if your contact doesn't bring us any information of sightings on the staff part or of any who have heard news of Ezria being here."
Looking more directly out the window as she flawlessly pours her drink, she comments, "Even with the strife here, it is unlikely we still will find allies, as all oppose us. With the signs descending from here though, I am thinking this, Sacerdote of the Great Earth Dragon or the White Goddess herself are responsible. If they used Ezria to get a piece of the staff...that could be what is causing all of this strife below on the road and the growing organization here. A shift in power...simply wonderful for us. The Father of Obedience will be pleased to hear it."
In looking out the windows, she tries to see if there are signs of strife between the former and now rebellious ranks of the lower castes (people dead in the street, more blood color on the buildings than normal, siege weaponry, etc).
"We could pose as new disciples to the cause and head up to the Cathedral of the Drake's Tail? That could be fun?" She shifts her eyes knowingly to Logain.
Logain follows Aenil into the adjoining room without hesitation and deliberately ahead of Opal - though he trusts Aenil enough to accept the room at face value, he'd still attempt to verify the situation they're walking into before subjecting Opal to a possibly unforeseen hostile situation. Logain's attitude markedly brightens as he heads to the bar looking over the selection of spirits - not that he'd indulge more than a sip since he's on a job, but he likes to know where he could entertain his love for new flavors, at an appropriate time.