While Krynn prepares for the ritual, Myrwyn seats on the ground and tries to recall what he knows about this Turrosh-Bolg.
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"I'm not good at interrogation, really" Myrwyn comments, "what I fight I usually want it dead." He knows there could be some ways to do that, but it seems there are others taking care of it. He addresses Mordenkainen. "They seemed to have you as their target. Do you know them?"
"Yes" Myrwyn says, nodding. "I agree. Point me the way, please" he adds, walking towards the exit.
"she is a slender half-elf of about 5' 3'' height, with a thick mane of raven dark hair that pools at her feet. Her eyes are a brilliant emerald and she generally wears a purple cloak decorated with tiny diamonds in the shape of the constellations of Caeril." Myrwyn uses his magical hood to adopt the appearance that Mordenkainen is just describing, as proof that physical aspect isn't necessarily reliable. "If they have magic potent enough to fool divination, they're surely able to hide her looks." He agrees, though, that it's quite unlikely that two different groups start kidnapping psion active people, and so votes for giving this idea a try. "Do we have access to this golem?"
"Okay, okay..." Myrwyn murmurs while trying to escape from his half-brother's grapple. "Let's hear what the Archmage has to say." He's always been the grumpy one of the family. He pays good attention to something that he knows will end up in him going on adventure again. Many ancient history, titles, etc... but if this is all true - and he has no reason to doubt the word of Mordenkainen himself - then his duty calls. Once assured that they're in a safe haven, and following the Archmage's invitation, Myrwyn casually comments. "And... do these rod parts have any power on their own?"
At the mention of himself, Myrwyn jumps up again. "Wtf son of Desna?! I didn't say anything!" he goes, stupidly revealing his disguise. He turns his head to Mordenkainen. "Well, of course I'm interested, you probably already know..." But then he walks to the stranger. "Who are you to speak on someone else's behalf? Show your colors!" he shouts, believing the elf was referring to Myrwyn himself.
Myrwyn immediately identified the Phyrexian. He jumps up of his chair, ready to obliterate the menace, but notices something different. He also gets distracted by the piece of crystal teleporting, then speaking somewhat warmly to the Phyrexian. With eyes semi closed, he stands ready, but holds for a second until he decides whether attack or not. There's something in its speech that really stands out. "What do you mean by Black Butterfly?"
It's been an easy time for Myrwyn. Without much to do, he's spent the last few months relaxing, traveling around or studying some ancient texts or ruins. Thanks to his magical hat, he looks like a totally non interesting villager, avoiding the occasional interaction with someone who happens to recognize him. His time here in Malvent, though, promises to be interesting just from the beginning. As he sips a bit of mead from his jar, his eyes open wide when he witnesses a flying piece of crystal enter the tavern. The gem takes a sit and speaks to the maid. It even has something resembling a pair of eyes!
Not sure how to address this, Myrwyn thinks it can't be that obvious. A being from other Plane or World who plans on being a naughty boy doesn't just come to the tavern where there most famous aberration hunter in Carril is having a drink. He stands up and walks there, putting a hand on the empty chair. "Mind if I accompany you? One doesn't get the chance to talk to a crystal everyday around here." |