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Denaris flashes a capacious smile as Halim, somewhat grudgingly now it seems to Zelrim, indicates his ascent to the daring proposition. Indeed, the Pawguun buccaneer feels strongly that the Khazzanite Inquisitor’s presumptive enthusiasm for the enigmatic sommelier’s proposal has diminished substantially with the revelation of the Sea Folk and his unseen mater’s allegiance to the, in Halim’s fixed mind, wrong belief in the two Uwek Tazey Shabur Beck Tangri and Kheat Quill Tangri – or ‘Sabeccuranus and Emmesanna,’ according to Denaris.

To be fair to his scheming Calishmani employer, this was, indeed, an extremely unexpected combination of divinities to find worshipped as a pair, given that the followers of both in the Seven Lands of the Ruby Throne warred ceaselessly with one another in a conflict known as the ‘Assassin War’.

What more, it seemed very likely that Halim was no great devotee of being himself out-schemed. For that which he did to others, he did not, in his profound and slanted approach to justice, wish to be meted out in kind upon his own person.

”Excellent, most excellent,” says Denaris through his glistening smile, ”Now then, let us seal this agreement by the proper oaths.”

Having received the grudging affirmation of the Caeshaeyllian Inquisitor, hardly more than a bestial grunt, Denaris proceeds to lay his smooth, ivory-fleshed hands upon the altar, each one set respectively in the space before the rough-hew statues of Sabeccuranus and Emmessanaa. The slick black rock beneath his touch begins to glow with a piercing white illumination, revealing a heretofore concealed crevasse cut into the altar in exactly the shape of a hand.

He then casts his eyes up in a fixed gaze directed towards the face of each divinity, seeming as if to forget the presence of his two guests, as the Sea Folk begins to speak again, this time in a reverential, prayerful tone, one noticeably deeper than his ordinary intonation,

”By that which bends and breaks, finds and makes, sends and shapes, wends and waits, by that which calls and echoes, signs and portents tremble, by that which is both whole and absent,” and then he begins, in a slightly unnerving, high-pitched tenor, to sing, ”Sabaccarrao, Sebbecrai, Sobasharu, Succranus, Sacborshai, Shya’brak….” and many variations of his god’s name, before continuing in a similar list of the goddess’ forms of address, ”Emsia, Emesya, Kyia Tiya, Khesharah….”

The end of the last name of the goddess finds a welter of small shinning globules begin to ascend from a geyser positioned above the statue of Sabeccuranus, further up the altar stone. They descend in a stream down a rivulet cut into the rock beneath the statue.

At the same time, a sheet of glistening liquid begins to pour forth from another geyser above the statue of Emmesanna. It likewise steadily descends through a trench carved in the rock.

Both streams terminate in small facets that are directed into a pair of rough flasks that sit upon shelves cut into the black stone.

Denaris picks up both flasks, then hands the one filled with shining liquid to Halim, who then recites in a controlled tone, almost masking his annoyance,

”By that which bends and breaks…”

He finishes the oath before the recitation of the deities’ names, as Halim would refuse to use any except those titles approved by the Dark Triumvirate.

Simultaneously, the Sea Folk recites the same formula while holding the flask with the metallic globules.

Denaris and Halim then exchange flasks and each repeat the oaths, and then a third time.

To Zelrim, this is clearly some kind of ritual shared by multiple sects of those who worship the lizard god of assassins, poison, and vengeance, Shabur Beck Tangri, though Denaris’ statue appears to resemble more strongly a salamander, and thus an amphibian instead of a reptile. The question of how me might indicate his ascent is dealt with by Denaris, who upon concluding his ritual with Halim, turns a friendly expression to the Halfling, the palms of his hands open in a universal gesture of welcome.

“And how shall you swear, friends Zelrim and Praesidium?”

Oh no, I'm saying it's my fault with the pacing -- I really want to build this up more like a novel rather than just throw everyone together, but it takes me some time to think up some of the material... what you're doing right now is super crucial, I hope they're all reading it.

Narrisca's voice intrudes just as Zalona finishes, clearly excited by the answers she seems to be getting out of the strange creature known as "Mime,"

"I don't think he's ever met the Bright Master personally, based on what you're saying. He may not know any more than we do about who, or what he is. Maybe he's met the Red Right Hand, though I wouldn't necessarily assume that either... this all makes sense for such an incredibly reserved organization. There must be several layers to all of their cells' organization. I think he's at least one removed from any of the leaders. In any event, let's try to figure that out -- I'm not clear if we've yet to encounter anyone who's met any of the leaders, instead of received messages from one of their intermediaries, or so forth."

Mime continues his reply,

"I am the Mime, and nothing more or less. I have been cleansed in my body and my heart and my bones and my mind and my soul by the Red Right Hand of the Bright Master. I am nothing but his fingers, and the fingers do the will of the hand that fashioned them. We are the weapons of his fury..."

The Mime's voice again shifts into the odd chant that he had taken up when reciting the hundreds of names of the Bright Master, though it is even more noticeable now. This effusion of stylized expressions has a definite ritual cast to it, as if it is something he recited, or has recited on multiple occasions. It seems unmistakably pre-written.

Balh'Talkh's sneering expression then breaks the litany of per-rehearsed expressions,

"Ha. One of the Chosen. He is not a Thinking One. He simply does the will of the Thinking Ones. Slave."

The Mime objects in his now grating monotone,

"None who serve the Bright Master are slaves. We are his children. He rules by love."

Balh'Takh's only reply is a deep, guttural laugh which reverberates through the Rusalka's head, like a thunderclap.

Zalona receives the definite sense that Balh'Takh has disrupted the flow of the conversation with Mime, and that she will have to bring him back to her inquiry forcefully is he wants answers about the identity of the Bright Master, the Red Right Hand, the Joyful Ones, and their mutual connection to the Faceless Ones.

Sorry it took a while to get back to you, it's a lot of work still to keep up with people in different locations, I'm trying to pull the characters together.

The Amphian's expression appears blank as it replies in an almost comical monotone,

"I have no name except "Mime," which I was given by the Red Right Hand of the Bright Master. I speak nothing but the Bright Master's words, which you shall have the joy of hearing now."

His voice assumes a kind of sinister reverie as he continues, proceeding to Zalona's questions

"The Bright Master is the Lord of Light, the Wonder Worker, the Prince of the Dawn, the Light Bringer, the One Who Brings the Dawn, the One Who Gives Freedom, the White Mage, the Shinning Lord, the Savior of Man, the Giver of Joy..."

The litany of epithets continues for dozens of such titles, and appears to be something he has memorized, as "Mime" recites these descriptions with a slight, but noticeable rhythm, like a ritual chant. After he has finished this long chain of epithets, his voice returns to a more normal cadence,

"He is the one who shall set us all free. We shall live in our bodies forever. We will no longer be slaves, but masters. He is sending his Red Right Hand to begin the Good Work shortly. You are blessed to witness the beginning of the Good Work. The Bright Master is older and wiser beyond length of days, and count of years. His Good Work will assuredly be accomplished. The Red Right Hand cannot fail to accomplish the will of the Lord of Light. He is the greatest weapon in the hand of the Bright One, and none can stand against his power."

Evidently, he considers this an adequate response to Zalona's curiosity regarding the identity of his mysterious master, for he then turns to address the matter of the Joyful Ones,

"The Joyful Ones are the servants of the Red Hand. He cleansed our minds and named us. He gave us purpose. We are the flaming fingers of the Red Right Hand of the Bright Master. We dispense the justice of the Lord of Light. We are many. I am the Mime, my brothers and sisters are the Joker, the Jester, the Jack, the Harlequin, and others. We are bringing the justice of the Bright Master to this place to begin his Good Work."

Zalona can only imagine Narrisca's bated breath, her eagerness to hear the first reply of the mysterious agent of the Bright Ones seizing the master spy's breath.

The Storm Priest standing in the center of the three clerics responds to the Deep one with annoyance, his tall conical hat trembling slightly in an almost comical manner as he sputters his reply,

"And you must be the sage-squire of Elehuddi! Rather tardier than one might otherwise wish in the execution of your duties -- your master is currently experiencing the greatest embarrassment in being unable to offer any greater insight than have any others who have contemplated the apparition. That or he is hiding whatever insights he has gleaned..." The Storm Priest sneers with a feral expression, "but rest assured we shall discover such deceptions if indeed they are attempted against us, for none can flee from the holy light of the Maelstrom."

He then regards the Savants and Moonwater Knights pointedly, each one by one, before concluding, as if seeming to direct his last comment, referring to the power of the Maelstrom he venerated as his only god to uncover deceit, particularly to his Devonorian compatriots,

"so, pray remember upon whose hospitality your welcome depends, and the etiquette attendant upon this relationship"

The Storm Priest likewise inclines his head, acknowledging both the Squawk and the Lamian in this fashion.

"A scholar and a warrior? The war bands of Scarnth have rare talent! Please feel welcome and come in by the side of our friend, the Templar Kawsag. Perhaps the scholars of his company now have a rival, and we knew nothing of it?

He fixes Kawsag with a quizzical expression, as if eliciting further information on this curious new arrival. However, as should now be expected, the Squawk continues to hold the same passive, unflagging expression.

The path of the Deep One half breed in the wake of his master Elehuddi brings him before the Tower of Ghosts.

This is the eponymous spire from which the entire complex derives its name, and is by far the most striking of any of the principle towers in its appearance.

Whereas the others are, by various degrees, easily recognizable as fortified bastions of several levels in height, the Tower of Ghosts is a strange caryatid of massive dimensions.

It resembles a female Sea Folk with a strange headdress that forms the top of the tower, and it made entirely of undifferentiated white marble, streaked with delicate veins of pink and black. It is as if the massive column were carved by otherworldly means from a single block of stone.

The entrance of the Tower of Ghosts is already crowded with a small and varied company. There are two Nommo dressed in long black cloaks with high, pointed collars. Next to them stand two Nommo warriors completely garbed in weighty plate. Behind this group, which blocks the entrance to the Tower of Ghosts' uppermost level, stand three additional Nommo with high conical hats and distinctive clothing with equally balanced elements of black and white, as well as a skull-like motif that seems to be a constant feature of their armor and gear.

Ictaiojh'Oc'Xylthixr then notices a squat figure standing next to one of the black-cloaked Nommo. This, according to the ancient mosaics in Mourn, should be one of the long-vanished Austorians, or Sea Dwarves, who purportedly vanished from the Sundered Seas shortly after the Accord of Athanes was signed by the major parties who survived the Great War with the Dragon.

Outside the entrance of the Tower of Ghosts stands a Lamian, a mixture of Naga and Sea Folk blood, as well as a Squawk, a peguin-like warrior race native to the far north. The Naga half breed has a black rapier, and the Squawk two heavy looking guns.

All of these figures seem to be engaged in some kind of a debate that blocks the entrance of Ictaiojh'Oc'Xylthixr.

The excited interruption of the Imperial Savant Vicuska Virag, who had been escorting the Austorian representative Hrungnir to the Audience Hall breaks in upon the conversation. One the one hand, it cuts off the anger riding perceptibly in the deep tones of his fellow Savant Agosoton the Exalted, noticeably deeper than the voice of Vicuska. That of the penguin-like Squawk is prevented from speaking any further by the Savant's interruption, but his manner remains entirely un-phased, and he appears to only observe politely so that he may continue his calmly-stated objection at the earliest possible moment.

"Pray, brother Agoston, hold your peace in this matter. Assuredly, the meddling of the zealous Church's Loper of Istillus, Lenci Lajos, and his representatives here in the delegation is a great impropriety which the Praetor should not have forced upon the Herzog. Yet, we must bear it for the moment, and cannot gainsay the Imperator's direct emissary of the Great Houses' will. What does it matter if they simply observe, in any event?"

Neither of the Moonwater Knights accompanying the Savant Agoston make any motion, their features, excepting their eyes, obscured by the visors of their intricately-ornamented great helms.

The Imperial Savant Agoston the Exalted returns Vicuska's entreaty in an even deeper tone than that which he bellowed towards the Squawk Kawsag.

"You remember of course, brother Savant, that I was once called the Implacable in the annals of the Empire, and have served under the previous Imperator, who did not bow to these inveigling priests so readily as does the current occupant of the Malachite Throne. This is no small matter to me, but the summation of a vast, and unrelenting tide of insults which our Order has borne for lo these many years. Surely, you have not forgotten when Istillus' mines were solely the possessions of the Savants?"

Before the Savants can continue their disputations, Kawsag interjects once again, still employing an entirely non-plussed tone, and betraying in his diction absolutely no alteration in his imperturbable manner,

"Whatever disputation lies between you and the Storm Priests, I now see the very messenger arriving to mark my entry, so this matter seems hardly worth further consideration."

The gun-toting Squawk raises his head to signal at the two three figures emerging from the shadows behind the present company blocking the doorway, consisting of the two Savants, the two Moonwater Knights, and the single Austorian Hrungnir.

Kawsag speaks again in greeting, his voice still utterly un-modulated

"Brother priests, your messenger was received by Master Kerberus, who has dispatched me, a fellow Inquisitor of Lady Silence taught by his hand, to represent the Darkriders' interests in this matter. I greet you by Her Law and Her Judgment. May Her Will be done and He Decree pass us by."

The Squawk inclines his head slightly as he finishes his ceremonial greeting of the Storm Priests.

As they emerge from the shadows, the distinctive garb of the Maelstrom's clerics comes into view. They are each attired in an identical, ankle-length tunic, the left half of which is black and the right side white. A bone breast plate, constructed around a giant saurian skull, covers the breast of each. Smaller skulls, apparently of the same design, serve as epaulets. Further, they each wear one as part of a hat, which is completed by a tall cone, divided in color, black and white, just as the tunic. Their arms bear scepters with the same sigil of the lizard skull, which also adorns their matching gauntlets, vambraces, and the armoring of their knee-caps. Behind each, a circular banner is affixed, divided into two tear-drop like swirls, one black and one white. A single black dot rises from the center of the white space, and vice versa.

The middle priest speaks,

"Templar Kawsag, you are most welcome to the hospitality of this embassy. I am sure we, all of us," he pointedly regards the two Savants and Moonwater Knights,"will benefit greatly from your expertise in matters of signs and interpretation, when you are able to make a full report of the manifestation to the esteemed Master Kerberus."

Kawsag nods,

"I have no doubt this shall prove to be the case"

The Storm Priest then takes note of Satazia,

"Does this one accompany you, Templar Kawsag,and who pray might she be?"

He turns his eerie stare upon the Lamian, who notices for the first time that the eyes of all the Storm Priests are an other-worldly, unbroken cloud of milky white, inside of which seems to stir a violent storm of light.

Here are a Map of the Grotto beneath the Creste and Image of the Grotto beneath the Creste -- Zelrim and company are in the area marked 'shaft of sunlight' on the map. There are monoliths like a stone hedge made of black rock. The large shelf-like slab in the image is what appears to be an 'altar' in the midst of the hedge

Denaris leads his two new companions through a narrow portal in the floor of the alcove and downward. The wine-keeper, inquisitor, and halfling descend precipitously into a grotto beneath the stalagmite which contains the primary public areas of the Creste of the Spectre. Soon, a vast new space opens before them, consisting of a rough-hewed grotto in which their appear to be ancient monoliths, in the midst of which rises a craggy shelf of black rock.

The revelation of this new, seemingly quite ancient space beneath the establishment would seem to confirm Zelrim's initial suspicion that the Creste had originally served as some kind of a shrine that had later been re-purposed. This grotto especially reminds him of the sacred places of his people, the Swamp Halfings, or 'Pawguun' in their own tongue, of Caeshaeyillya's dense territory of coastal tropical marshlands. Their shrines to the ancestor spirits, the loalai or lolooai'paala, are constructed in similar grottoes placed slightly outside their stilt reed villages. Here, the holy women commune with the numberless spirits of the Cloud Worlds, including the Great Thunderer, Gannim the Shelled One.

Denaris leads the company to alight on a small outcropping in the ragged altar. Two elaborately, if grotesquely, carved statues frame a jagged indentation in the rock. It appears to form a sort of groove or rivulet through which liquid could run down the altar's side, into the dense bed of mint-green moss which lies beneath its shadow. The entire formation hints at a ritual purpose.

Denaris gestures extravagantly with a single outstretched arm,

"Gentleman, welcome to our humble place where we conduct important business such as that which we are about to pursue, the three of us, together, in what I am sure shall be an extremely profitable partnership."

He reaches for two roughly-carved flasks and raises them in some kind of highly-stylized, obviously per-rehearsed motion.

Halim squints at the statues before drawing back slightly in surprise,

"Luck of the Swindler! One of them is Shabur Beck Tangri"

Denaris, replies, utterly nonplussed,

"Well, we refer to him as Sabeccuranus, but, yes, it is a representation of the same divinity of the divine collection you drylanders refer to as the Uweck-Tazey, or Red Gods."

He then points at the other one,

"I am surprised you did not recognize this one as Kheat Quill Tangri, the Mistress of the Knife and the Lash. Indeed, I was led to believe that she, too, is worshiped in the lands above."

Halim makes a warding gesture with his staff, a kind of figure eight motion in the water above him. Zelrim easily recognizes this as the sign used by Dark Triumverate priests to exorcise hostile forces, and represents the eternal, interconnected power of the three gods to whom they are devoted.

"We do not venerate her in Calishman -- she is the enemy of Shabur Beck, and the hired killers that serve each divinity war ceaselessly with their foes. No, you are very mistaken if that question applies particularly to the domains of the Pashultan..." He pauses slightly, considering his next words, then continues, "nor do we venerate Shabur Beck outside of the Dark Trinity in which Assadar Tangri and, most importantly, Kazz Sammar Tangri are also necessary members. in fact, I fear I must tell you Denaris that, should you visit our fair port, you would find yourself in worse circumstances than the servants of other gods. These we harass and ignore, but you we would seek to convert or destroy." He concludes with an entirely insincere smile, "No offense meant, of course,"

"Assuredly!" Denaris beams "For you cannot imagine either that we care a whit for the local ritual customs of your little island domains, anymore than that our meeting was by chance. By no means! For our common prayers to the Stalker of the Night directed our attention to your very person. Fortunately for you, brother priest, given that you are currently not at home in the city where your own faith has arisen triumphant, but rather journey in lands where it is entirely unknown, myself and my associates are rather more accommodating of they variety of forms the veneration of Sabeccuranus may assume."

Halim winces noticeably at the repetition of the heathen miss-naming of his god. Denaris notices but only seems to derive amusement from the ridiculous spectacle, as his shiny grin only widens,

"And thus the master of this fine establishment charged me before his departure for... other matters to secure your cooperation in this scheme, speculating that our common subject of worship might form a readier bond of friendship than might otherwise be hoped from drylanders."

"But let me return to the matter of the portals. I have indeed heard that some inhabitants of your lands possess vessels capable of traversing tides of the 'Veins of the Dragon', as we often call them. But we are getting ahead of ourselves, and so let us return to the first principles."

The waters between the three companions erupts in light, and the image of a coiled wyrm of many heads begins to take shape. As the image finishes resolving itself, Denaris continues,

"I am gratified that your isolated peoples seem to preserve a good sense of the nature of the many worlds, often depicted as the 'Body' of the Dragon, though the truth of this representation is of course the subject of much debate by theologians and philosophers. In any event, the coils of the Dragon are the Elemental Holds, and the 'Heads'," he points out several horned faces with gaping maws,"are the various Heavens, Hells, and other Half-Worlds where the gods live, well those who yet live, and to which the souls of mortals aspire. Connecting them are the 'Veins of the Dragon', whose 'Blood' is white. Or it is said it is her 'Breath', the opinions vary. Finally," he gestures towards the small pinprick in the midst of the coils, highlighting a previously unseen darkness below,"there is another, more dangerous, as well as fleeter, aperture between the 'Minds' and 'Bones' or 'Flesh' of the Dragon which is 'Her Divine Shadow'. This perilous space below, around, and between the Elemental Holds and the Celestial and Infernal realms is known by various denotations -- Bozgash,Brogdash,Brogtadash, etc., -- and this Brogdash Darkness is said to be both the speediest, as well as the most secure crossing place between any two locations."

Though most of this is in some respect familiar to Zelrim, he notices that the Sea Folk has not mentioned an element of this dazzling cosmography with which all inhabitants of the Seven Lands would not fail to be acquainted -- that 'Her Divine Shadow' is also the source of the Dragon Herself. For the ancient stories say that, in the beginning before time or years, the Dragon was born of the entity known variously as Catlus, or Caltus, or the Caltus Lord.

The well-known creation story of the Palash Namqua, the holy book of Ishtaurian Pantheism, relates that this mysterious power of darkness birthed the Progenitors, who birthed the Dragon, who birthed a race in her image, who birthed the gods, who birthed the thinking and speaking animals, who birthed the mortals.

The details are less clear in the sundry oral narratives of the Pawguun, but many describe an enemy of mighty Gannim that takes the form of a spider, or a witch that can take the shape of an arachnid. This has commonly been identified as the same Catlus, who in every story, both of the Pawguun and the ‘Temple’, the common faith of Isthauriam Pantheism than embraces the pantheon of both Red and Blue Gods, is lulled into an endless sleep by the Dragon or similar power, such as Gannim. Many of the cosmographs of Ishtauria actually depict the coils of the Dragon strangling a spider, an element missing in Denaris’ present representation of the ‘Million Worlds’.

Curious, to say the least…

”The portals of the Ice Elves were opened by the First Queen, and are of several gradations. By far the most common establishes a direct connection between two points, one linked to each gate. More powerful than these, and correspondingly less common as well, are ‘great gates’, which can not only open a door into the ‘Veins of the Dragon’, but also create a new aperture in any location, and so are not limited to merely connecting to another lesser gate. There is one of these gates in the Spire of Keening, where the Ice Elf delegation is currently headquartered. Others are rumored to include the Gate of Heinares in the City of Merceria, as well as the Gate of Power in Oinosursruptas, the City of the Oinoloth in Ashlaggutah. In addition to an ability to open new gates outside of established portal rings, the greater gates can open them within fixed portals, which has the added delightful effect of destroying them. Finally, the Grand Portal of the unnamed Ice Elven city to the far north is said to possess even more extravagant powers, in that it can perform all the functions of the lesser and greater gates, but also open doors through the Bogdash Darkness – a feat which can also be achieved by aligning two greater gates to open portals within the respective ring of the other. The Grand Portal is said to be able to control all other portals, and thus to make other greater gates open portals within another. In any event, I propose we employ the Ice Elves’ greater gate to open a portal within the Maw of the Maelstrom, the fixed portal to the Half-World of the Devonorians’ elemental deity. This will simultaneously transport us to the heights of the Tower of Ghosts, destroy the Maw, annoy the Storm Priests, endear you to the Princess who resents the Imperials’ intrusion, perhaps cause the Sea Elf Druids to return, and also involve quite a bit of fun.”

Denaris regards both Zelrim and Halim seriously as he again raises the ritual flasks,

“Gentleman, is that all clear? Do you have any further questions. And, if not, do we have a deal?”

He smiles invitingly, clearly anticipating an affirmative response, irrespective of Halim's earlier protestations.

No, no that works perfectly. You've hit upon something that is in fact the case -- that there are fallen cults among the lower castes, though the upper castes try to suppress that information for obvious reasons. I just want to be clear -- there are a couple more twists in this story still to be revealed :)

The Savant nods sagaciously, clearly pleased with Hrungnir's response,

"I believe we are on the cusp of an alliance of great merit for both of the involved parties. I will distribute your intelligence among my fellow Savants and our allies, and I would ask you to do the same among your compatriots. When the time is right, we will meet to begin to discuss the form of this arrangement independent of the meddlesome presence of the Stormpriests, the Templar Orders, or the Surgechanters. We should be able to arrange a discrete convocation before the end of the conference in three days' time. I will send a discrete messenger later this evening after you have had sufficient opportunity to communicate with your fellow Austorians."

As Vicuska and Hrungnir rise through a portal in the ceiling to ascend to the audience hall (moving from room#49 to the next level, room#12, looking out westward -- this is also where Satazia and Kawsag are now located, let me know if that's clear), they stumble into the middle of some kind of confrontation.

A Lamian, a rare half breed that represents the union of the serpent-like Benthic Nagas and the Sea Folk, and a penguin-like bird man known as a Squawk are facing another Savant, behind which are approaching two Moonwater Knights. The Lamian bears a distinctive black rapier, and the Squawk two guns.

Hrungnir hears the new Savant speak to the newcomers,

"Who seeks to enter the domain of the Empire?"

Hrungnir, Satazia, and Kawsag are now together, so start titling spoilers for your posts, "Satazia, Hrungnir, and Kawsag" like I and Satazia have been doing "Satazia and Kawsag" once they met.

Just a a note of clarification -- where did this comment come from "Many have tried to worship it, but that did not spare them from it's ravages"? Is that something you've intuited from the fluff I gave you (what part then?), or did you make that detail up now? I just need to clarify for some other fluff stuff -- I don't have a problem either way.

The Savant now turns to the Austorian with an intense interest, his beady ebony eyes flashing slightly, and his long prehensile whiskers twitching in what might be anticipation,

"That was indeed my understanding of your people's cause, though I had to hear it from you to directly to ensure that the old stories were accurate and that your society had not... changed as has mine. I mentioned that the Savants predate the ascendancy of the Storm Priests and their allies in the Empire. We are one of a small but powerful faction that would see our people freed from the corrupting influence of the Maelstrom, and are eager to establish ties outside the Empire that might bring about this revolution."

"As to your question about the Emissaries. Yes, that is the principle conflict faced by our people, but it is not my primary concern. The Storm Priests hope that additional stores of Orabantium will allow us to fashion an arsenal of weapons and siege engines that will turn the tide on the eastern front (in terms of directions, if you look at the map, the Land of the Emissaries is most of the eastern sunken super continent, while Devonoria is the northern part of the western one, the Emissaries are probably attacking the southern border of the Empire, but , strictly speaking, they face each other west -- east across the Shattered Seas). As for myself and my.... colleagues, we wish to use this new opportunity to dispossess the slaves of the Malestrom."

The Savant stares intently at Hrungnir, attempting to read his reaction to this statement before continuing,

"I believe you are correct that we may both, in some way, become heroes of our respective peoples -- each in our own realm defending it from the Mother of Monsters"

He purses his bloated lips before concluding,

"Do your people possess any magics or technologies that are especially suited to fighting the forces of the Dragon? My party will be outnumbered in our conflict with the Storm Priests and their allies, and will require some kind of strategic edge to triumph in this battle. What more, if Her children are truly about to pour into the surface world, then we will doubly need some ward against this incursion. Please convey the intentions of my party to your companions, and I believe we will be able to arrange a favorable alliance irrespective of the Storm Priests. The holdings of the Savants are ancient and rich -- we may do much for one another."

No worries, this is going to be a relaxed, long-running campaign. We're not going to move super fast and there will be time to take breathers.

Zelrim knows a little about the planes. The planes of this world are a near, but not exact approximation of the Great Wheel from classic D&D cosmology. One of the distinctive elements is that all the planes have an aquatic bent because of the flooding of the universe caused by the Dragon's death. The Inner Planes, containing the various elemental planes, are considered to be the Dragon's 'body', the Outer Planes coordinated with different alignments Her 'mind', and the planes that connect the others -- something like the Plane of Shadow, the Astral, and the Ethereal, Her 'ghost, soul, or shadow'. He is aware that some civilizations, such as the Kraveans of the Crimson Empire of the Dragon Teachers, which lies in the center of the continent of Ishtauria, as well as their Illumani allies on the Topaz Sea, use specially-constructed vessels that can move from the seas of this world, to those of the planes, to other worlds, using the 'veins of the Dragon' to move incredibly fast between two locations. The Caeshaeylliyans do not possess, but are interested in acquiring, these types of vessels. They were exposed to them as a former colony of the Dragon Teachers. The Ice Elves are rumored to have some kind of portals that operate on a similar principle

The Amphian's slight, calm smile inverts slightly at the refusal of his welcome. It is not as if he were mad but... saddened.

His voice begins to emerge again in Zalona's mind, more haltingly,

"You... have no need to fear aught from me Zalona. Know that I am the "Mime" of the Joyful Ones. I have been sent by the Bright Master to prepare the way for his Red Right Hand, who is coming soon to dispense the Master's justice to the nations of this cursed world. Soon, you will come to see us as the best of all possible friends, I assure you. For the Master's servants are his children, and his children are the family of the anointed.

As he says this, Narrsica's voice again intrudes upon Zalona,

"Only reply to him, do not reply to me any longer, or he will detect that there are others, unseen, in the room alongside you. I will be able to detect the general drift of the conversation by your replies, and can also indicate questions to which you should intend to get an answer. The most important matter is to try and determine who the Bright Master is, and especially if this one has met him, personally. Try to give me a sense of what he is saying in your replies, like by restating what he said in what you say, e.g., "You just said that you are called by such and such name and hail from such and such, based on that information, I would like to know such and such." Do not be afraid, I and my compatriots are close at hand should anything go awry."

The Amphian waits calmly for Zalona's reply, hovering in an eerily still suspension.

The Squawk carefully listens to Satazia's question with evident attention before he replies, still in his patient, untroubled manner,

"Well, as I have already explained, I simply took note of a female of your species among the number of the Red Shields. She was similar in height, weight, and bearing, and bore a finely wrought sword with a curious purple blade. I presumed that it was the same weapon as this weapon of yours her" he points at the rapier with one of his two muskets,"only then under the empowerment of some supernatural enchantment."

He muses slightly, turning to regard the summit of the Tower of Ghosts to which he and his new Lamian companion are quickly ascending,

"I mentioned that the Red Shields are also referred to as the Blood Fangs. To be more specific about the matter, I believe they may have once been two groups who were joined under the single banner, consisting of a pair of crimson triangles on a black field. Further, I suspect, now that I consider the matter, that the Lamian may have been a part of the Red Shields portion of that union, and that they may be less chaotic than the Blood Fangs. I saw her in the company of a number of Kai-lio and mercenaries of other races, but they did not appear to be the Devilbinders, Bloodragers, and warriors of rare or demonic races that are common among the Blood Fangs. Perhaps that offers some insight, I cannot say."

Kawsage conclude by returning to another matter,

"You mention the veteran Yozaril -- I believe he was one of the few survivors of the battle in which the earthly form of the Great Tunbaaq, monstrous patron of the Ice Elves, was banished early in the conflict which this conference is intended to close. Have you heard of it? It is an immensely powerful demon that appears as a polar bear with a long neck and curious pyramidal head. Further, it is said to be invincible to weapons, can turn invisible, run quicker than light, and move between this world and those of the fallen gods with ease. By some great magic, it was banished for a time to whatever frozen half-world it had originated. This, of course, enraged the Ice Elves. Just as a word of caution, my new friend, I would avoid making any knowledge of your connection to one such as Yozaril evident in the presence of an Ice Elf. They have notoriously long memories and will assuredly resent the connection, perhaps so much they will seek to exact some form of retribution."

He kicks his flippers to rise alongside Satazia, and they speedily approach the entrance to the summit of the Tower of Ghosts, in which lies the audience hall of the Devonorian Embassy -- the site of some strange occurrence.

Kawsage gestures politely as they enter the narrow opening on the west side of the tower.

"After you, of course,"

As soon as they enter, the dark profile of a Nommo, the catfish-like breed of Sea Folk who rule the Devonorian Empire, comes into view. He bears a long black mantle that almost blends with the darkness of the entrance way.

An unfriendly, slightly sibilant voice calls out,

"Who seeks to enter the domain of the Empire?"

Two more figures begin to emerge from the darkness as the Nommo concludes his frost welcome.

The Savant turns to Hrungnir as he begins to answer the second portion of his inquiry,

"Regarding the Malestrom, I must confess that the Imperator's Savants hold a less universally positive view than that of the Storm Priests and Surgechanters. Indeed, our orders existed before the advent of this religion, and have always sought to maintain our independence from its growing domination of all Devonorian society, an aim that has been less successful than its follower would care to admit."

"It is an open secret that the Maelstrom is the spirit of the Dragon rent from Her body after the Great War, though the Storm Priests will attempt to punish any who utter this well known fact in their presence. After being severed from Her body by the power of Athanes, the Dragon's spirit wandered the Sundered Seas for many years. Our people were charged, alongside other races of the Accord, to defend the world from one of the remains of the Dragon's power, and the Nommo of the Devonorian Empire received the task of hunting and containing Her spirit."

"For many years we faithfully pursued this end, until the advent of the warrior prophet Echan Seitman, also known as Yasol Zigmun. He directed our people to worship the Dragon's spirit in the hope of eventually controlling it with our prayers. I fear that instead it has come to dominate its followers. This faith quickly spread through the orders of the Cyclonic Templars and their allies among the knightly societies which once hunted the Malestrom -- principally the Templars of the Typhoon, the Hurricane, and the Tsunami. Our former faiths declined in the face of the power of this new religion, until it had taken over the temples of our silent gods, for they had ceased to speak to us, as had the divine patrons of so many peoples, in the days following the Great War."

Vicuska then turns pointedly to Hrungnir,

"My perusal of my order's sparse records of your people suggest that they have maintained their ancient task to guard a portion of the Dragon's power on behalf of the other peoples of the Sundered Seas. Is this true? I would know more of your society."

This is the answer to the Sense Motive check -- I'm copying it from my reply above in case you didn't see it:

Hrungnir has deduced from his current tenure with the Devonorians that they tended to use the Sea Folk of the Hundred Kingdoms as canon fodder in their battles with the Empire of Ashlaguttah across the Shattered Sea to the east. In this case, it seems very likely their attempt to create an 'alliance' to assist the Austorians in reclaiming their homeland is a ruse to attract a similar contingent to march in front of their ranks, the Hundred Kingdoms have long ago broken from their rule. The probable outcome would be using the forces from the other kingdoms as canon fodder to seize the Orabatium mines of the Dwarves and then taking control of the mining operations, supposedly for their mutual benefit.

Denaris ushers Zelrim, Praesidium, and Halim past an alcove shielded with a dense curtain that appears to be made up of several hundred rows of tiny finger bones. The Sea Folk lifts this elaborate and unnerving barrier by pulling gently on a small chain, and the torrent of tiny ripples released by this motion raise goose pimples on Zelrim's exposed skin.

Behind the curtain is a small circular alcove whose floor disappears into a whole pulsing with a more intense form of the lime green light emitted by the lamps which surround the room.

"Come, my study lies beneath, and shall be the perfect locale through which to plot this delightful and, I anticipate, supremely effective pursuit of our various, though also shared, ends."

Denaris gestures for another of the Troll servants to close the curtain and guard the alcove as he descends into the lower reaches of the Creste.

Halim's zeal is entirely unrestrained, and he bounds forward, past Zelrim and his shelled companion, to catch up with their host.

"What incredible fortune we have secured by your company, Master Innkeeper, surely the Lord of the Dice looks favorably upon our endeavor. I can guarantee the generosity and perpetual friendship of the Pashultan for your aid in my diplomatic mission."

Denaris probably would have been less pleased to receive this assurance had he been informed of the fate of others who had made recently concluded agreements with the agents of the Dark Triumverate.

Indeed, fearsome Jungle Trolls of the Hornbreaker Jungle, would likely regret their decision to cease warring with the Caeshaeylliyan colonies, and instead accept transport aboard their vessels to conduct trade in far flung regions of Ishtauria alongside their new Irisithrian allies. At least it seemed probable they would be unhappy to discover the 'trade vessels' were in fact war hulks that were destined to disembark their cargo on the shores of the Salamander Kingdom, so that the Trolls could provide cannon fodder for the Pashultan's new war with Caeshaeylliya's powerful neighboring kingdom. The women and children left behind would be made into slaves of the Hornbreaker colonies, and over time bred for further fighting stock. All in all, not a great deal for any but the Caeshaeylliyans, and a typical example of the "generosity' of the Dark Triumverate's faithful servant, the ruler of Calishman, variously designated as the Pasha-Sultan, Pan-Sultan, or, most commonly, the Pashultan.

Zelrim's own people had always been wary of the Irisithrians for this reason, and taken care in any dealings with them to prevent sharing the fate of the Hornbreaker Trolls, or similar peoples who had come under the sway of the peninsular city states.

Denaris' voice rises again as the company of four enter the green-lit tunnels beneath the inn,

"Now that we have crossed into more discrete environs, let me query you as to your knowledge of the Ice Elven portals, so that I may tell you what you need to know, and not more, and thereby delay our action. Furthermore, do you know anything of the Devonorians' religion? This also is key to my plan."

You can do a Knowledge check if you want, my presumption is Zelrim doesn't know much of anything. It seems likely Halim would as an Inquisitor of a church that is engaged in spying and espionage, but he probably won't reveal any information he has in the hope that he might learn something more that otherwise would not have come to light.

I need to post some updated maps of the inn and its under-works, into which you are now stepping. They connect with other parts of the structure, and the lodging and storage for the inn are contained in them.

The patient, still sublimely unperturbed Squawk replies to the Lamian with a slight inclination of his head,

"Satazia, know that I am pleased to meet the acquaintance of the second of your kind I have espied at this strange conference. I am Kawsag of the Darkriders of Kerberus, the most famed mercenary legion in all the Sundered Seas. We serve the Lady of Silence Kasugoan, the ancient and long lost patron of Aveendenaea, from whose line our leader Kerberbus descends in a line of faithful Templars stretching back millennia. His ancestors destroyed their home when they created the Gorh'Tonhs to serve as a race of perfect soldiers to fight their battles with the Devonorians. As it turns out, they did their work too well and succumbed to their own creations. Ever afterwards, the Templar orders that survived have striven to increase order and fight chaos in these troubled lands. At the core of our company is the greatest of these knightly orders of ancient Aveendenaea, though I have heard rumors that there are others. I myself am an Inquisitor of Kasugoan, converted to the faith by the hand of Kerberus himself, for whose sake I left my own people in my youth."

He then squints as he studies Satazia more closely,

"And you do not know of this other Lamian? It is indeed a curious thing, that at least one of you is not aware of the other. Most curious."

He turns to look back at the Tower of Ghosts, rising behind them, noting the Austorian and the Imperial Savant gazing down at him and the Lamian from above -- they also appear to be taking the measure of Kalh'Kanh's newly arrived steed.

Kawsag returns his attention to Satazia,

"Kalh'Kanh is one of the great servants of Nassiral Hate, the Pale Oracle who know leads almost all the Legions. This dragon here is his mount, as you can tell by the scar on its breast, which it received in a famous battle."

He seems to muse slightly before continuing,

"That is curious if your people are not usually associated with a group such as the Red Shields. Given the subterfuge of this conference, I wonder if someone has merely taken the appearance of one of your kind for some unknown end... or perhaps they are a betrayer of your values? In any event, I have little other intelligence on the matter to offer you. I merely observed one of your kind among their number in the last few days -- a female, perhaps your age, apparently a kind of swordsman. She bore a sword with a curious violet blade. You can then see my cause for assuming you were one and the same."

Kawsag returns his gaze to the Tower of Ghosts,

"Well, never mind that for now, I assume you are also pursing the rumors of a great apparition in the audience chamber above" he points up towards the pinnacle of the Tower of Ghosts.

"I have been dispatched by Master Kerberus to investigate the matter and return with a report. Shall we proceed together, unless you are actually headed a different way than the rest of the company gathered here...?"

He concludes by staring at Satazia pointedly, clearly eager to determine if she is about some business other than investigating the occurrence in the audience hall.

Denaris swivels with practiced alacrity at Zelrim's final comment requesting permission for Praesidium to enter the private suite.

"By all means, gentle buccaneer, for assuredly my protestations to the squamous members of my staff in now fashion apply to so noble a creature as your trusty gun squire. Indeed, in all my travels, I have never heard an ill word spoken of their noble race. No, perish the thought, and usher him to an honored place by your side."

He looks off blissfully, before continuing,

"You see, Hruusulli, the cantankerous cephalopod whose presumption I was just forced to curb back there, is a curious case. His race hails from a vast territory, far to the east, beyond Tegeresin and the Daemon-ruled Empire of Ashlaughuttah. This Octopoid Combine is said to be of immense size, perhaps one of the few true rivals to Ashlaughuttah and its invidious Emissaries. They are an utterly collectivist society of tentacled beings, of which the awakened octopi are but one component, alongside merkoth and other, even stranger races. The odd member who wishes to acquire individual property must depart to other lands where such things are permitted. Which has led our unhappy eight armed service waiter to my door. They always desire some pointless bauble, and generous souls such as your humble caretaker are their only means to possess them. A curious specimen of a curious species, no question about it."

He turns back more pointedly as he concludes,

"Now, please, come, for I wish to inform you and the priest of many matters concerning Elven portals -- their uses, but principally their misuses, which is what we are soon to be about."

"That is indeed true, and I believe it is precisely this that may prove his undoing -- overconfidence. In both my own experience, and my study of history, pride is the stumbling block upon which fall even the greatest of planners. May we pray that the Mistress of Humiliation will similarly cause them to stumble."

Narrisca then provides her final guidance before she and Zalona emerge into the light beyond the end of the dark, rough-hewed passage.

"Come, gather your wits, for you will need all your powers to face what is coming Zalona."

The hall opens into a large, bright-lit chamber sheathed in flawless marble panels on all floors, walls, and ceilings. Indeed, the already intense light issuing from the narrow eyelets placed in regular intervals around the walls of the oubliette is further magnified by the white surfaces which refract and burnish this illumination to an almost supernatural degree. It is as if Zalona now stands in a room outside which is the risen sun that warms the lands above the waves.

A diverse crowd mills about the center of the room, into the midst of which the Tolh now directs it's clanking mechanical steed.

The collected company part as if herd animals in the face of the whirring engines and belching smoke of the metallic monstrosity which Balh'Takh forces through their ranks as if they were not present.

The Tolh then brings his vehicle to a halt in front of a chamber on the far wall.

It, like all the holding cells, consists of a featureless marble alcove open to the room, and a wall of force dividing the prisoner from the visitors.

Within the chamber, swims the brightly colored captive of which Zalona has recently heard so much. The Amphians are said to be related to Cindarians, and are mermen who possess the upper bodies of men and the tails of Clown Fish. They are said to be distinguished from their better known cousins by their possession of powerful innate psychic gifts.

When Zalona enters the chamber, the Amphian is facing the wall, but slowly turns in her direction.

She sees easily what the Kali-lio mercenary meant by his reference to the Amphian's "terrible eyes."

For its pair of piercing, beady opals seem to drink in the intense light of the chamber, dimming its brilliance within the creature's vicinity.

Its face is marked with some kind of white paint, with dark spikes smeared from the corners of its eyes, as well as down his cheek and up his forehead -- appearing like a.... clown of some sort.

It begins to swim to the fall of force separating it from the rest of the chamber,

Zalona hears Balh'Takh's voice again,

"Hear, and truth he will speak."

Then another, new, and somehow more sinister, if lower, higher-pitched voice intrudes into her mind,

"Please come closer Zalona, I am so pleased you have come. Your daughter's great love has sent you to me."

He beckons for the Rusalka to approach the wall of force.

Narrisca's voice arises again,

"Don't worry, we're here behind you. Did he say anything yet?

[ooc]Hrungnir has deduced from his current tenure with the Devonorians that they tended to use the Sea Folk of the Hundred Kingdoms as canon fodder in their battles with the Empire of Ashlaguttah across the Shattered Sea to the east. In this case, it seems very likely their attempt to create an 'alliance' to assist the Austorians in reclaiming their homeland is a ruse to attract a similar contingent to march in front of their ranks, the Hundred Kingdoms have long ago broken from their rule. The probable outcome would be using the forces from the other kingdoms as canon fodder to seize the Orabatium mines of the Dwarves and then taking control of the mining operations, supposedly for their mutual benefit.

Ushering Walks a Shadowed Path surreptitiously into the secure confines of a ill-lit alcove, Song of the Nightingale and Midnight theatrically lifts the shimmering ectoplasm of her cloak and mantle to call her confidante's to pay close attention.

This a distinctive garment that indisputably marks her as one of the Queen's revered Deathspeakers, the powerful magicians that severed as both sentinels and guides on the treacherous boundary between this life and the Spirit World.

Song of the Nightingale at Midnight begins to speak in a peculiar mixture of the language of warning and inquiry,

"Know that it has come to into my knowledge, O Pup of the Gray Wolf's Keening, that your recent journeys on behalf of the Daughter of the House of the Clipped Wings of the Hummingbird have trespassed upon the laws enacted by the Opener of the Ways, the First Queen of the People. It was her reverend person who forbade us to enter days that have past by means of the paths by which she taught us to travel to other worlds. But you have done this thing by her request, and in less peculiar times would have merited severe punishment for the deed. However, in light of the dark days that have currently fallen upon the People, the Mother of the People herself has bid me to extend to you her free and unalterable pardon. Fearing for the soul of her child, she wishes you to serve her will as you have aided that of the First Daughter, and thereby perhaps save them both from destruction."

The Deathspeaker continues in the more illusive and conspiratorial cadences of the plotting tongue,

"The Chosen Cub of the Great Hunter is by no means the only one to seek a greater knowledge of He Whose Name Was Lost. In truth, the Mother of the People Fears that his dark power may once more seek the Heart of the People. Moreover, the sickness of the First Daughter may have brought quickened his plans"

Song of the Nightingale at Midnight continues by speaking in the language of inquiry, this time unalloyed by that of warning,

"Tell me, Walks a Shadowed Path, what you know of the ways that were opened by the First Mother -- or should I enlighten you further in the manner that they are opened and one passes through them?"

Walks a Shadowed Path is slightly taken aback by the Deathspeaker's return to the language of warning,

"The matter that weighs especially upon this heart, O Prince, are the ways that are between the ways -- not the paths that connect the unnumbered worlds, but the darkness that lies between them..."

I think I gave you a lot of information to use to respond in the fluff I sent, but I'm happy to PM you some more info if you're feeling lost, let me know

The Savant extends the long, dark talons of his upraised hand in an ostensibly inviting gesture that is also somehow simultaneously quite threatening. His out-stretched fingers guide Hrungnir's eyes out the window of the Tower of Ghosts to the enormous Orchestra Dragon currently perched on the Nail, the abode of the Gorh'Tonh embassy at the Keep. The wyrm's immense horns create an impressive profile that casts the area around the spire into shadow.

May spectators have paused to observe, like Hrungnir and Vicuska, the arrival of this terrible beast. In particular, the Dwarf notices a Lammian and Squawk engaged in an intense conversation while they watch the beast from ground level.

The spectacle is only increased by the quick arrival of the dragons' train, a large pod of killer whales, some clearly evidencing bizarre mutations or admixtures of other species.

Following the Orchestra Dragon and its expected hunting pod are three hulking siege engines, each of which spews caustic steam into the nearby waters.

Hrungnir can barely finish taking in the arresting spectacle before the Savant begins his reply,

"The Legion of the Orchestra is the personal army of Nassiral Hate, the Pale Oracle who has recently arisen to unite the different Legions of the Gorh'Tonh Dominions in an unprecedented fashion. Hate is an albino specimen, the rarest of the Gorh'Tonh breeds, and one of the few which devotes itself to the magical arts. He has somehow acquired a uniquely powerful totem for his legion, a pod of immense Orchestra Dragons named Cynophantis, and has used it to conquer the solitary totems of the other Legions, one by one, until he has united virtually all under his single rule. Moreover, he has launched a series of ambitious conquests, including his seizure of Merceria only a few days in the past. The majority of the Gorh'Tonh divisions in this embassy are from the Orchestra Legion, including, so far as I can determine, all the war beasts, siege engines, and command staff. There are small divisions from the Legion of the Kraken, and perhaps one other, but they appear to be only common infantry units. It is almost as if Hate is forcing his former rivals to witness some new triumph he hopes to achieve at this conference."

He smirks, before continuing,

The scar on that dragon marks it as the personal steed of Kulh''Kanh the Traitor Mage, one of Hate's foremost emissaries. I imagine the Pale Oracle believes whatever victory he seeks is secure because he has dispatched one of his most powerful servants to lead the expedition. I assure you, he has sorely underestimated the power and resolve of our Imperial forces. We will not be put aside so easily as that!"

He concludes with a throaty chuckle,

"I will answer your questions, but pray do not express such interest in the hearing of the Storm Priests, or they shall seek to convert you, and not accept "no" as an answer! What particularly interests you about our faith in the Malestrom?"

I haven't forgotten the Sense Motive check, I'm just too tired to finish this, I have a specific answer I'll type up later