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Agreeing with the goblin's assessment, Sir Morien proposes to plunder the tomb or, perhaps more usefully, to act against those hired by the locals to explore the tomb and recover their birthright. "After all," he explains, "we may have to deal both with the tomb's defenses and with others seeking its treasures, like us." ![]()
"Some of us are neither persuasive or stealthy," Sir Morien speaks up, the man's pleasant appearance belying his grim demeanour. "But our presence in Lantan could serve both as a distraction and as a reason for the locals to forge new alliances. If all eyes are on us, then they will surely be less likely to see the lurkers, and more likely to agree to the terms of the diplomats among us. In any case, it could prove an interesting race..." ![]()
Sir Morien averts his gaze. The sight of the Celestial reminds him of what once was, and fills him with rage and hatred. But he is no fool: if such a creature summoned them all here, then it must be for a very good reason. Dr. Craven has it right: something must be dreadfully wrong for the likes of this beacon of light to call upon such scum and villainy... ![]()
Sensing that his presence makes some uncomfortable, Sir Morien alters his appearance beneath his cloak and masks his aura. Pulling down his hood, he reveals himself to be a very handsome man with an engaging smile and pleasant manners. He scans the room, evaluating the eclectic group that has gathered in this odd place. Have they all been summoned here like I was? he wonders. Use Hat of Disguise and cast Undetectable Alignment. ![]()
Sir Morien wades through a sea of blood – the blood of the kobolds of Candlestone Caverns. Hundreds lay at his feet. Torn to shreds, dismembered, drained, their bones and spirits broken, the kobolds proved powerless in the face of the Star of Gozreh. And yet, the rage inside him burns brighter than ever as he guides his undead griffon into the air. Now, it is time to make them pay for what they have done to me, he decides, full of self-hatred and self-pity. He guides his putrid steed toward the highest peak of the Aspodell Mountains, in the near distance. In the clouds, hidden away in an ancient crater that has for millennia been the home of wild griffons, the Shining Knights wait for him in Whitestone Keep. As he flies into the caldera, he marvels – as he always does – at the verdant beauty of this natural wonder. But the wild griffons shy away from him as he arrives, and the rich vegetation recoils when he lands. I should not be here, he reminds himself. The Shining Knights look down at him from the battlements. A terrified boy steps out through the wicket gate to greets him as he dismounts. The boy hands him a letter and runs off. ”What is this?” Sir Morien asks no one, surprised. It is literally inconceivable that anyone should send him an invitation and yet, here it is. He looks up at the knights with murder on the mind, and then he pauses. Perhaps I should deal with this summons first, he considers. Then, he activates the token and disappears. *** Careful to conceal his hideous appearance beneath his black hooded cloak, Sir Morien limps into the Crossing House tavern. Discreetly, he finds a spot by the fire and waits… |