Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca's page

The diminutive druid glances about nervously, fixing his eyes on the roaring fungal behemoths and the hordes of myceloids now confronting the arcane barriers erected by Miqeo and Tyren.

"Well, whatever we are going to do, let us do it quickly friends, I fear any long delay will only see us cast into worst straights than that in which we now find ourselves."

Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:

"For somebody unwilling to help in the actual fighting, you sure make a lot of depends of those doing all the heavy lifting." Hamza says acidly, in reply to the elf once more butting in.

"I wouldn't be amiss in assuming this is a habitual pattern of behavior from the elf, would I?"

"You would not, brother druid."

"Press on, valiant maiden, I believe we shall overcome our foes!"

"Blessed Mother of Us All, the enemy is receiving further reinforcements!"

cries the druid, as another large company of the shambling fungus-men enters from the far side of the vast chamber, opposite that of the Companions of the Broken Tablet.

"I fear very much that we are surrounded companions! We must break through their ranks quickly, lest we be swallowed up in their fearsome ranks!"

"Ah yes," remarks the diminutive druid knowingly in response to the comments of the mysterious native of Yaramuke regarding the exit point of the portal to Ram.

"My own venerable order, the BrahmanaŚauca, know well these 'vairāgin' of which you speak, noble Itko of the Sthan'Baromsokh-Php'Phendei-Mnoussacheate Sahchip of ancient Yaramuke. They are also known as the 'men of Sri Kurukshetra," after the great plain upon which the last battle between the legions of the Śravaṇabeḷagoḷa Dynasty and the forces of Abalach-Re and the fearsome horse archers known as the Khamag Khirgiz of the Temüjin, the latter comprising sorcerer-queen's most loyal and first supporters among the nomads of the western plains, who cleaved to her side since she had descended upon the sacred heights of Mount Tängri Khagan in a halo of fire and light."

"It is said that Prince Daśaratha contemplated the great battle upon the high walls of the city, and upon anticipating the inevitable doom of Ram's forces, achieved a remarkable insight into the transitory character of mortal existence. Of course, the tale of his wilderness peregrination and subsequent contemplative entombment in the earth is well known in the popular work account of his life known as the Śrī Daśarathacaritamānasa Sūya."

"In any event, those inspired by his example have both observed and chronicled the subsequent history of the great city, and we are much indebted to them for their largely dispassionate account of previous ages during the long tenure of the Grand Vizier Abalach-Re."

"I would hear of your willingness to offer a small window into the mysterious city of the shadow-kin."

Tyren Lourofesh wrote:

Aah, okay, cool. That'll be a fun revelation for Tyren later.Tyren snorted, "Too far in my suspicions, you say. We live in Athas, friend. There is no such thing." He frowned, "Well, strictly speaking, if it's a temporary portal, I can't complain too terribly much. It's not as though we're allowing permanent access for anyone who should discover the portal's existence."

"I must confess, though, that the fabled City of the Seven Shadows is amongst those legendary locales of our tortured planet that I have long yearned, though not been able, to visit personally. Perhaps our desperate circumstances present a unique opportunity for a traveler such as myself."

"I find myself compelled, once again, surprisingly agree with the estimable representative of the Thought Maker Tribe. Indeed, many residents of Raam with any knowledge of the great city's history its present-day undercurrents could help but nurture a perhaps unhealthy curiosity concerning the hidden city of the rākṣasas."

Since this is officialy Serpent Singers territory, you would have to offer something to my tribe in the first place.

"I find myself in the somewhat surprising situation of concurring with our estimable bardic associate. Maybe it's impolite to notice that even the traditional confines of your tribe's territories are not uncontested -- consider, for example the feral tribes of Sand Trawlers that contest the Serpent Singer's rule of the Iridescent Desert. In any event, this grotto is not clearly within the boundaries of your tribe's territories, and I fail to see its self-evident claim within the context of the present negotiations being conducted vis a vis its present serpentine caretakers and their druidic ward."

Enough stories. By this point I would at least hear the merchant's full plan so as to judge against my concern of wasted time of loss of opportunity against the greater threats of the day.

He turns to Hamza.

And upon traversing this portal you could with haste do the convincing and return with this contingent of assassins? How many be they, and of what skill?

"I, too, would hear what purported advantage these minions of the City of Seven Shadows might offer our impromptu company."

Hamza turns to address Ito is it Ito or Itko? "You are correct, I am a noble merchant, but I am also a noble and a merchant. As I mentioned before, what I propose is an alliance between House Mīnakshi, yourself and your noble charges. Mīnakshi is one of most ancient of all of the houses within Alaka, also known as Che'el de' Barra Velg'larns or the City of Shadow Assassins. Along with a few other noble families, Mīnakshi helped found Alaka and to this day, is considered one of the more preeminent Houses. We are indeed merchants, but our other title is Lil' Su'aco xor Nindyn Vel'uss Venorsh M'elzaren. Which translates into The Wind, or Those Who Silence Defilers in Olathooble or Shadowtongue. We are assassins who specialize in killing mages who dare use the profane arts known as defiling." He calls forth his shadowy kama, which all those present note is dark red in color. "This is Vlossu'aco or Bloodwind, the ancestral weapon of Mīnakshi, and my badge of office. I am the Nizzre' Senger or Lightning Lord, one of four lieutenants of The Wind."

He pauses, letting these revelations sink in. "Here is my offer. I can open a portal to The Black, to Alaka. I will petition Zhennuilharn Arshes or Grandfather Thunder, leader of the Wind, to lend us a contingent of assassins to help us destroy Kchac'Thraa. In return, you grant House Mīnakshi access to the network of portals here, so that we may more swiftly carry our missions of death."

The diminutive druid frowns somewhat as he replies,

"Well, well, well, this new revelation certainly does clear up several persistent queries I had nurtured since your sudden arrival on the scene. Though not all here are natives of Raam or familiar with its history, I certainly am, and will now reveal some pertinent information to the assembled Company of the Broken Tablet so that they might decide whether to accept Hamza's offer."

"The hooded one's revelation of his origins identifies him as an entity known as a rākṣasa, one of several tribes of progenitors species known as yakṣas, which also included ogres and other monsters, that used to rule Raam before the coming of the sorcerer-queen Abalach-Re and her minions, the unconquerable horse archers known as the Temüjin."

"Though the long reign of the Grand Vizier Abalach-Re has been far from peaceful, neither should we have any illusions regarding the harsh rule of the yakṣas which preceded the city's current age."

"In the wake of Abalach-Re's conquest, the various yakṣa tribes retreated, and none more successfully than the various houses of the rākṣasas, who founded a new city in the dimension known as the Black, and which represents a twisted copy of the city-state of Raam. Fabled Alaka, the City of Seven Shadows, is the dread origin of our companion Hamza."

"These creature have their own agendas and wage a hidden war with their servants among the assassin and thief guilds of the city against the servants of Abalach-Re."

"My own order does not trust them, and I must, for all our sakes, question whether we should now do so, though we find ourselves in unquestionably perilous circumstances."

Ri'Kli'Klek wrote:

"Regardless of the tale's truth, the point remains that many of us have spoken in favor of first hunting the wraith, but none have proposed a manner in which to do so," Ri'Kli'Klek points out, "Unless I have missed something of the discussion. How are we to face the forces arrayed in defense of the defiler?"

"I believe Hamza was on the verge of presenting just such a plan -- please, noble merchant, describe in more detail your vaunted strategy."

"I concur with my brother druid, we should all hear this proposed stratagem."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. However, what all of you fail to realize is that I have already devised a plan to deal with our present foe, in such a way as to render his army moot, and to possibly also counteract his magicks. Thus, I do not worry that Kchac'Thraa will defeat us, leaving us for dead, nor do I believe it will take us much time. Which, is really the heart of the argument is it not? Time and again, it has been said 'we must make haste to reach our goal', so I will ask you plainly as can be. Do you think if we war with the defiler it will take hours or even days? If not longer? Are you worried this will be some protracted siege?'

He then notes the ghostly figures which obviously match those of the champions from Slavathras tale. "Neat trick, and even if they are the actual spirits of your story, they are not going to sway my decision. I leave you with this. We either strike as one against Kchac'Thraa or you and the monk go off on your own. The choice is yours."

"Peace, peace, and peace, friend Hamza," Taalik makes the pacifying gesture of the abhayamudrā, and open-palmed display of fearlessness in the face of hostile intention.

He then continues, somewhat insistently,

"It is doubtless the case that the matter is as I have told it, for you can see that the mind shades known as sprulpa and manomāyakāya among other titles and that guard our oath, as promised by Slavathras, have inclined in my direction when they were set upon the tale as a validation of Three Fangs. You need not worry, they are now seated in your favor, but ware' lest they turn, for their power to punish offenders of the compact is certainly great."

Itko Boranchakara wrote:

Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:

Hamza Mīnakshi wrote:

Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.

Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."

"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."

"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."

Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.

The native of Yaramuke reveals an even larger grin as a collection of a dozen ethereal figures suddenly collects around the elf.

They appear to consist of: a sage with a cowl whose face is mostly hidden by the garment's deep folds -- its high precipice tips

...

Taalik is unphased as he replies,

"Again, I am afraid I cannot agree, faithful minstrel. For it is made perfectly clear in the Mahāvaipulya pūrṇabuddha-sūtra prasannārtha-sūtra, the Text of Perfect Enlightenment whose words are vouchsafed by powerful guardian spirits of the land and sky, that Fleet Hands purposefully distorted the record to which you aver, in order to magnify his own purported role in the deeds of the Twelve Champions of Celik."

In mid flight, the ghostly apparitions halt their advance.

Hamza listens with interest to Slavathras story, as he enjoyed a good tale. When it is over, he begins to reply, then pauses as first Taalik then Ito and finally Amunet take the storyteller to task. Something he was going to do himself.

Chuckling loudly, he finally responds "I think it is just that, a tale. It would seem you have one ready at a moment's notice, almost as if you are trying to manipulate us into doing what you want. But, I will tell you this, most of our number believes we should defeat Kchac'Thraa here and now. Which means, in your version of this story, you and Rokan play the role of Three Fangs, potentially going off on your own and breaking away from our company. If that is your decision, I will not stop you, and I will do my best to recover your remains. Though, I am unsure if any among us have the divine prowess to bring you back to life."

"Actually, friend Hamza," begins Taalik, cordially, but firmly, "I believe you have directly reversed the signification of the elf's tale to our current predicament. Three Fangs, like you, is a warrior who wishes to dispel a current threat, and Fleet Hands is a loquacious petty conjurer of the same sort as a our esteemed minstrel, who wishes instead to continue along towards the original goal of our compact."

"For you see, in the way that Slavathras told the tale, it was intended to warn against you departing to defeat the wraith, while the manner in which Ito and myself have conveyed the narrative teaches exactly the opposite deduction."

Ito smiles in clear agreement with his druid brother, and watches eagerly for Slavathras' reaction.

"And thus is came to pass that the grim scout and the loquacious illusionist persisted in their contention whist the rest of the Twelve Champions of Celik looked on in consternation and uncertainty -- in which way should their fellowship walk? In a moment further, Three Fangs had apparently lost his patience, though not his placid composure. And so the dolorous tracker gathered his mottled cloak about himself and began to follow the trail of the the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan berserkers, a fairly un-difficult task considering the immense impressions left by the passage of the half-tarek raiders' monstrous one-eyed pachyderm steeds."

""Yay, see how it comes to be for thee!"" called Fleet Hands after the scout. "We shall see what comes of it, I am sure!" Unable to reach a resolution, the remainder of the Twelve Champions continued along the Yellow Road, until the sun had descended, and they set about camp while the two moons hung in the sky above them. Still, Three Fangs had not returned, but still the assailants of the Urikite caravan had not appeared again to trouble the journey of the Twelve Champions of Celik to high-walled Oscalgarum and its storied orchards of white apples."

"Gathered around the flickering illumination offered by their campfire, Gray Cowl suddenly assumed a grim visage."

"Quickly taking notice, Fleet Hands inquired, "He hath met a unkind, has he not?" and the gray-cloaked sage simply nodded solemnly in reply. As before, the mum scribe filled the empty space between the companions with remarkable depictions of recent events. They beheld Three Fangs carefully approaching the haphazard camp site of the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan, where the half-breed tarek had spitted the survivors of the Urikite caravan in preparation for the evening repast. The gruesome odor of burning flesh seemed to waft from the curious nighttime mirage which had been conjured by the un-speaking sorcerer. Then, the scout set about besieging the half dozen or so berserkers then...

After a pregnant abeyance of discussion, the halfling druid merely smiles sagaciously, before replying,

"That's is indeed a fascinating tale, Slavathras of the Deadlands, Mindshadow of our humble company, but it happens that I remember this little story rather differently from the account contained in the records of my venerable order. In this version, the rest of the Twelve Champions follow along with Three Fangs, and successfully ambush the Jarchi'Jaruud Adarginkhagan raiders, while Fleet Hands is assailed while traveling the Yellow Road on his own, having refused to comply with the common wisdom of his companions. It is he, rather than the trusty scout, who ends up the meal of the savage half-tareks,"

Taalik's grin grows even wider,

"But in this version, no one resurrects Fleet Hands."

The mysterious elf reclines his head slightly,

"Ah, but this little dilemma calls to mind the misadventures of the legendary sodality upon which we shall all sworn our oaths."

Just to remind you of the story, in case the details got hazy:

Quote:

"Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."

"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."

"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."

"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."

"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."

"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or her representatives."

"One day, a haggard

...

"Ah, yes, the breathing wagons narkabtum baltumbintunapistum of Urik -- there are fascinating descriptions of these entities in the records of my venerable order. The common view is that they were once a race of docile herd animals that roamed the vast region that preceded the devastated region known as the Hellscape or the Red Waste. When the mysterious cataclysm created the dark pool at the center of the Wastes and the three overshadowing massifs of the Haljōhjärta, the so-called 'Heart of Hel', these gentle herd animals were driven into the custody of the Red City's inhabitants, who have since cruelly bred and exploited them."

The mysterious elf named Slavathras, addressed as Silan Tilak of the Thoughtmakers by the Dreadseer Anubisemonekeh of Amunet-Ra's Serpent Singer Tribe, and who had taken the title Mindshadow when swearing the oath of the Company of the Broken Tablet, gazes fixedly at the True Drake princess Chanthavy-Chanvatey the Diamond Blossom.

The peculiar qualities of his arms and armament are a fair complement to the greater enigma of his person, origins, and designs. Slavathras' armor is composed of what appear to be the carcasses of several immense pangolins, a strange species of 'scaly ant eaters' distinguished by the large, protective keratin scales which cover their soft skin. They are the only known mammals with this feature.

Native to the torpid regions near the city-states of Gulg and Nibenay, the physical appearance of a pangolin is marked by large hardened overlapping plate-like scales, which are soft on newborn pups, but harden as the animal matures.

From the appearance of Slavathras' breastplate, epaulets, and helmet, all of the contributing animals were of an adult age.

These scale-like plates are composed of keratin, the same material from which human fingernails and tetrapod claws are made, and are structurally and compositionally very different from the scales of reptiles.

The pangolin's scaled body is comparable in appearance to a pine cone, and the warped fusion created by merging the exoskeleton's of at least three of the scaly ant eaters endows Slavathras' with an at once indelible, frightening, and ludictrous appearance, something like a predatory cactus or a feral, carnivorous porcupine.

Under threat, the pangolin can curl up into a ball when threatened, with its overlapping scales acting as armor, while it protects its face by tucking it under its tail. Presumably, Slavathras' armament would endow him with similar capabilities.

The scales are sharp, providing extra defense from predators or humanoid assailants.

His pique nose curls slightly in annoyance before the...

"Aye," replies the halfling druid in an expression of at once appreciative recognition and a furiously kindled curiosity, "there are reports of this strange locale among the records of my order within the great city of Raam. I remember, in particular, a volume entitled the Sañjīvakālasūtrasaṃghātarauravarīravamahārauravamahārīravarāpanatapanamahāt āpanaavīci Nakara Sūtra, which purports to contain a description of the 'many and varied hells and hell regions." Of course, those with a deep knowledge of the Athasian afterlife know that the righteous and unrighteous alike face a bleak dissolution in the realms of the Gray, and that there is neither a heaven of reward, nor a hell of punishment. Nevertheless, it seems apparent to me that the work reflects an account of historical expeditions into the interior of the planet some number of thousands of years ago, and that its descriptions correspond to realities that lie miles and miles beneath our feet. The narrative of the Sañjīvakālasūtrasaṃghātarauravarīravamahārauravamahārīravarāpanatapanamahāt āpanaavīci Nakara Sūtra is a flowery and extended account of the trials and tribulations faced by one party that passed through a seemingly endless network of caverns beneath Athas. They emerged into an immense space which appeared to comprise another world, and which they took to be a realm of torment for the souls of the wicked. I remember descriptions of large beasts and savage, shaggy monsters, in addition to feral tribes and weird climes, such as inverted, flying mountains."

The druid almost whispers,

"This kreen phantom is a creature of great power and malevolence. I am uneasy in its presence."

Tyren nodded, then winced, thought about it, and shook his head slowly. "Yes...And no. Not arcane, per say...At least, if you were to be a mage, it would still seem strange. It is indeed dangerous in the wrong hands, but...There is hope in it, too. If we can look past our temptation to weaponize all of it..." He gives a rueful grin at the realization that that's exactly what he's done, more or less, "Well...I have hopes to use it, and other methods, to right the wrongs of our dragon gods one day. Provide a true afterlife for our people. Bring life back to the deserts."

Seeing what they're about to move into, Tyren grabs both the skull-like tools on his hips by the handle running across the top of it, holding them in a method somewhere between a tonfa and a lantern. He looks to his team-mates, waiting for their signal on what to do, exactly. "At the very least, it returns power to the people. It's as arcane to magic-users as it is to gladiators."

"Ah, oath-companion Tyren, but I am afraid I am not sure I still understand. Is the source of your abilities one of the arcane power sources known in the Tablelands? Sun, moon, the earth, shadow, the hollows of the grey, the preserving arts, or the awful mysteries of defiling?"

"And so as to not interrogate into that which I will not myself divulge, I am, in addition to my druidical abilities, somewhat trained in mysteries of geomancy."

"The elf speaks truly. The seers and sibyls of the Tarḫuntašša are famed within the annals of the BrahmanaŚauca -- especially those of the Cult of Mitra who revere the ancient leonid spirits of the Smoking Crown Mountains that surround the city of Balic."

Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:

Slavathras of the Deadlands wrote:

"Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."

"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."

"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."

"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."

"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."

"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or her representatives."

"One day, a haggard messenger strode into the Court of Submission..."

"Ah, good minstrel, I thrill at the mention of the bahamūt, long extinct land

...

The little druid is seemingly locked in determined concentration on the elf's story, but the presentation of this apparent focus is quickly dispelled by the interpolation of another, un-looked for comment,

"And the black bahamūt, these suiáhkyaiyo(a) siksinááttsiwa of Áwahsini Ko'komíki'somma, the Plains of the Moon, were they tribute from Kalidnay to Celik, or Celik to Kalidnay? I do wonder how the other would meet so wondrous an offering."

"Come ye seekers far and near, and hear a tale of the days of yore, before the sun turned red and the wide blue oceans silted over, in the distant Green Age of the world."

"In that time, the great city of Celik stood on the shores of the Dragon's Tongue, the highest and finest jewel of the Estuary's southern arm."

"In those days, Celik was ruled by the Sulṭāna Esmeray Khuban, a powerful seer. The eldest daughter of a savage horse warrior chief who had conquered the teeming city, she aided her sire's conquest through her spectacular visionary abilities before assuming the mantle of kingship upon his death."

"A long trade route, called the Golden or Yellow Road, now forgotten and unused, connected the bustling markets of Celik with other city-states whose names remain on the tongues of living men, such as Kalidnay, Balic, and Yaramuke, and others who do not, such as Angara and Kük Török. The Yellow Road reached well beyond the Tablelands, all the way to the dominions of the Kreen Empire, as well as many lands beyond."

"Blue agate and peerless sapphire and ocean-hued jade and other exotic stones came to Celik from the distant mountain climes of Tantanistān, while groaning black behemoths, the siksinááttsiwa, whose mighty roars it is said that could silence armies arrived from the sweeping reaches and fetid swamps of Ko'komíki'somma -- the Plains of the Moon."

"And so the treasures of the world poured into Celik, and were presented at the Court of Submission. This was the title given to the grand portico of the Sulṭāna Esmeray's Gilded House, a great palace set at the gates of the city where envoys from foreign lands could present their wares personally to the ruler or her representatives."

"One day, a haggard messenger strode into the Court of Submission..."

"Ah, good minstrel, I thrill at the mention of the bahamūt, long extinct land whales of the distant north and and the unbounded plains. My order has records of these creatures, which include evocative drawings. They are among the many genera we hope to one day resurrect to this broken world..."

"Well, if we're going to make camp here, which I still maintain is not a very clever idea considering what we've learned thus far about this complex, including, might I just remind you pointedly, the thoroughly dispiriting fact that our dead opponents will at some time rise again and likely seek out a renewed melee, it would behoove us to establish a defensive perimeter, as well as some kind of guard detail."

"Fortunately, our present numbers should be sufficient to accomplish this task -- so the question now arises who shall contribute what means to our common defense, and who will serve as a sentry while their companions rest?

"Tyren of the Free City of Tyr -- it appears as if you are possessed of a number of a companions that might assist in the first task of establishing a safe perimeter for this subterranean camp of ours. The only question is, then, whether you will contribute their strength to our nocturnal defense?"

"I welcome other suggestions from among our number to make the most of this precarious situation."

"I concur with our bard -- we must prepare our defenses if we resolve to halt our explorations at this juncture. Who knows what other dangers might beset us in these perilous halls whilst we attempt to regain our strength?"

Tyren keeps his eyes level, matching Amunet for intensity until finally she steps forward with arms out. Tyren smiles and nods. Truly, they are largely from very similar backgrounds, then, if the Serpent Speakers claim this as their territory. "Well, I certainly understand the merit of that. I work around a lot of crypts, actually...The organization I belong to tends the graves of the Free City of Tyr." He looked around, "And...Well, this might be mere conjecture, but I get the impression that, whatever your predecessors titled this place, there's a possibility it wasn't intended to be a tomb." He pointed again toward the glowing fungus, "This is magically produced. If it were meant to be adornments, then this cavern should be more similar to the floor here. I believe it might be an attempt at creating a self-sustaining food source, or worse...Magic source."

The scholar paused a moment, then seemed to remember his manners and shook his head. "Oh, my apologies. I'm rambling. My name is Tyren Lourofesh, and I'd tell you how I arrived, only I don't particularly remember." He paused, "Nor am I certain whom this other fellow is. I've companions who may know more than I, but I haven't sighted them since I've awoken, and can only hope that they yet remain within this...Tomb. As for these cultists, they appear to be the Cult of the Endless Grey. They are...Or were, I had thought...Fools who believed that the Grey was a benevolent place, and that by merely ritually skinning oneself, you could achieve eternal peace."

Tyren sighed, "Which is a falsehood, of course. The Grey is not a kind place, as the child with me learned. As it turns out, there appears to be some lizardlike creature behind this cult, using it as an opportunity to gather the identities of key members of various organizations. I have three already that the child helped me identify. The child is a spirit of one of the countless victims of this cult, but I know little more--While I likely should have gathered more information, my conscience...

The diminutive druid gasps slightly,

"These followers of the Endless Gray -- they are also active in Raam. And I believe I can enlighten you somewhat on the nature of the reptilian entities you witnessed in your vision. These must be the dray, the same mysterious draconic entities that kidnapped Jimbli and me. We witnessed them flaying one of the caravan guards with which we journeyed into the desert. Your report uncovers the reasons behind the atrocious ritual. These beings are servants of the sorcerer-king Dregoth, who was long thought to have been defeated many centuries past by Abalach-Re and several of her compatriots among the rulers of the Seven Cities. He has, somehow, it would seem, returned... cells of this cult are also active in Raam, and the dray are infiltrating the ruins of Kalidnay as well. It was to uncover the means to divine their strange auras that we entered these ruins on behalf of the Serpent Singer Dreadseer Anubisemonekh, who promised such knowledge if we should recover certain artifacts of her people from the premises."

"I can fly under my own power when I wish," Ri'Kli'Klek states, "Even were it not for that rope."

However, he makes no move towards said rope, instead continuing his questions.

"How long has it been since these... Cleansing Wars?" he asks the halfling. "I am not certain they had started before I slept, though I suspected..."

He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

The druid replies, seemingly hesitant to divulge this information, lest it frighten his audience,

The Cleansing Wars were well over a thousand years in the past of the Tablelands, sleeper."

"As for hope... she laughs, and in that laugh is no small degree of pain. "My tribe was destroyed. We were few to begin with, for the most part hiding among some more amenable parts of the Diamond Blades. I was the repository of knowledge, speaker of the ancients for them. So no, hope is not something I would call it. Stubbornness perhaps? she says, laughing.

** spoiler omitted **

The druid nods sagaciously,

"Ah, so your people are fellow travelers of the Diamond Blades? They are a remarkable tribe. It is said that the psi crystals of their dedicated 'Metacognizants', the Prabhāsvaracitta contain a reservoir of psychic power millions of years in age, and drawn from as many minds, and their their crysknife warriors, the Sphaṭapāradarśaśastradhāraṇajīvaka are beyond parallel in their cunning and skill. Their sages are close confidants of my order, whom we consult when studying matters dealing with the ancient history of the great city."

Taalik Amun BrahmanaŚauca wrote:

*Stuff about Athas's history that happened while he slept*

"I know Rajaat," Ri'Kli'Klek responds, in the tone of voice one might use to discuss the presence of a particularly large and unpleasant rat in the room. "His servants also turned against him? So it is that madness always turns on itself in the end. But these servants still wake? Do they still drain the land of its life to feed their ambitions? From thy words this Abalach-Re hardly deserves a title of leadership."

"Yes, in fact it is Abalach-Re's magic that has in part led to the devastation of Raam's crops. If you know some means to depose her from the throne, than, friend, you have discovered a power that has eluded the people of my fair city for more than a millennia."

Ri'Kli'Klek is still standing perfectly still, head turned upwards where the others went, when Devapala answers. He turns to her in a quick motion.

"What is a Sorcerer-king? I had not heard of such before I slept."

This really shows how little idea Ri'Kli'Klek has about modern Athas. XD

The halfling druid turns to the kreen,

"The sorcerer-kings and queens were the Champions of Rajaat, the greatest of the servants of your former master Dargulin's greatest ally in the Cleansing Wars. Just as the Red God possessed his own great servants who are here entombed, the ancestors of the zik-chil, the priests of change who rule the great Kreen Empire to the east, so the deranged pyreen had his human ambassadors and generals. Whereas the servants of dargulin were naturebenders, the twisted branch of life-shaping taught by the extraterrestrial intelligences known as the Stoneburners, the emissaries of Rajaat were defilers and psions of great power. When they uncovered the insanity of the Warbringer's plans to return the world to the Blue Age, the Champions of Rajaat turned on their former teacher and master and imprisoned him in the heart of the Black known as the Hollow. They began to journey on the path of the dragon metamorphosis spell to give them the strength to maintain their master's tomb in the city of Ur-Draxa in the Sea of the Silt."

"The sorcerer-queen Abalach-Re was one of these Champions. She conquered the great city of Raam during the Cleansing Wars with a legion of horse archers known as the Temüjin. She dispossessed the previous rulers of the city, which included the rākṣasas, who rumor has it survive in a new city in the Black which they founded upon fleeing the devastation of Raam."

"The city-state of Raam has grown feeble, the fields lie fallow and the mines have run short of wealth. The people starve and their monarch secludes herself in a great palace on the edge of the metropolis, distant from the sight of their misery and the plaintive sounds of their pleas. Yet, her minions hold the populace firmly under their grip. Revolution will not come easily to the city..."

[dice=Perception]1d20+14 See in Darkness

Devapala leans on her Trishul as the others make their way into the chamber, following along swiftly. Still silent for a time, eventually she explains. "As to why I am here... I search for a way to crush a Sorcerer-king, and heard of the.. potentials here from a contact. I did not expect to run into others, and yet Slavathas found me, directed me towards you."

The little druid shakes his head in wonderment,

"Crush the sorcerer-queen Abalach-Re? And by what means do you intend to accomplish this wish? I assure you lady, none in our number are equal to the task of dispensing with Raam's millennia-long ruler and her legions of battle-hardened horse archers and unparalleled assassins. I find it hard to believe that a native of my fair city could be so hopeful about overthrowing the sorcerer-queen."

Devapala nods, towards the others, keeping her Trishul leveled at the creature as she moves around towards the passage south, heading for the door. "Those injured should get through there first. I'm unharmed, I can help hold it back for a few moments

As he ducts into the safety of the low corridor which leads to the chamber where, only moments before, Amunet-Ra and Hamza had held court with the mysterious representative of the so-called 'serpent-spiders', the diminutive humanoid regards Devapala with an expression that is at once interested and suspicious,

"Ho there stranger, unless I am very much mistaken, you have the appearance of a traveler who hails from my native city of Raam! Were you, as well, abducted by the dray of Giustenal?"

The Raamite halfling druid screams over the ear piercing din of the cacophonous creature's roar,

"I must agree with the elf, we would do best to abscond from the present encounter as quickly as possible."

Just to remind everyone, this was one of the NPCs you picked up from the Diamond Mines that was in the same caravan as Jimbli. He's part of druidic order from Raam. He's also interested in obtaining aura-reading abilities to uncover the disguised dray.

The halfling druid steps forward,

"I possess this ability,"

Nightmare Machine: Will Save DC15: 1d20 ⇒ 13

The Nightmare Machine is an enchanted object that gets a + 6 modifier on its base Will save, so it still passes and shocks the poor halfling.

Nightmare Machine: psychic damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Rokan looks to Taalik, and gently prods him to relay the story of his ambushed caravan.

Taalik is one of the others that we freed. He tells us of being in a desert caravan that was betrayed from within by serpentine creatures who could alter their appearance. We fear they infest the mines and wish to learn of your ways that can reveal them. Taalik, if you would please recount the details?

"Revered one, I am but a humble warden of the distant city-state of Raam, a member of an order devoted to the care and restoration of our blighted lands. These same sun stricken and desert devoured territories in which you and your kin have seen fit to make your home, despite its habitual harshness."

"I have been delivered, like your fortunate kinswoman Amunet, by a concatenation of strange and unforseen events, whose unfathomable course has now deposited my person, and those of these companions of mine, upon your doorstep, as well as at the mercy of your favorable disposition. Knowing mistress, you doubtless have heard the accounts of the fall of Giuestenal, whose dread ruler, if the legends speak truly, attempted the same arcane gambit as did the long lost sorcerer-queen of your own former domicile, Kalid-Ma."

"My caravan was sent to attempt a revival of Raam's fortunes, for it as hoped that the remaining bounty of the diamond mines which scar the horizon yonder would supplement the dry veins of our city's native quarries. However, this intention was abruptly aborted by the revelation that our expedition had been infiltrated by disguised servants of the ancient evil that once ruled Giustenal. These draconic entities, who called themselves dray of the second generation of their people, revealed their persons in a brutal nighttime assault on our company. I believe the source of their illusory abilities to be elemental in nature, and their vocation to be Templars of the sorcerer-king Dregoth."

"Their abilities are apparently quite impressive, for, so far as I and my order are aware, this subterfuge has yet to be uncovered by the Templars and assassins of the Grand Vizier Abalach-Re. In any event, they drugged our company and used our incapacity to kill some unlucky ones and then trade several to the creatures that rule the diamond mines in exchange for safe passage through their subterranean territories. I was about to be sacrificed to a hungry fire drake when I was rescued by this company. We believe the knowledge of auras may be the only art which will reveal the presence of these terrible servants of Dregoth. My order possesses ancient texts which speak of this art, but their libraries are located in the distant city of Raam. I also have knowledge that your tribe's cultivation of pyramid energy may provide an avenue to similar abilities. We seek an equitable exchange so that we might have access to the means of uncovering these dreadful agents of that sorcerer-king Dregoth."

”This does seem to fit the usual pattern of our world.” Malkaer said. ”Powerful fools destroying everything so that they might be lords of nothing. While we can’t rule it out, I think that we can safely assume that these Dray are not here to colonize the land.”

The halfling druids nods sagaciously,

"Indeed, I would, too, guess against their constructive purposes in the ruins of Kalidnay should I be forced to make a wager on the matter."

Pak'cha as per usual, does more listening than speaking.

"I rejoice that we have been able to free those of you who now join us. BY free I mean to say I feel no debt of gratitude from any of you are owed to me outside of aligning with us for mutual survival in this harsh place.

I too am ready to move along from this particular space.

One thing disconcerting, if Dregoth was well and truly slain, how have his or her Templars gained power? If Dragoth once more... exists, by what way was the Sorcerer King raised and by whom?

Rhetorical questions for now I suppose".

For the majority of the brief excursion, the House Vordon embassy, along with its freshly-acquired fellow travelers, crosses the sandy wastes before the dead fire mount which houses the diamond mines in quiet.

However, a notable exception arises in a return to Pak'cha's question about Dregoth which, though perhaps originally proposed rhetorically, is met with the halfling druid's pointed consideration,

"I have been pondering your words as we walk, and this matter has also touched my concern."

"It is well known from the accounts of this period, during which my order existed, that the great sorcerer-queen Abalach-Re and her allies amongst the Champions of Rajaat thoroughly extinguished the life of ancient Giustenal. Their armies lay siege to its walls, breached the great city's defenses, and proceeded to butcher every man, woman, child, and beast of its inhabitants, showing no quarter or discernment, mercy or stratagem in their vicious slaughter. After they had dispensed with the last doomed inhabitant of Giustenal, the bodies of their victims collected in great towers of distended sinew, streams of blood, and fields of broken bones, they set fire to the already rubble-strewn city, and it is said the inferno burnt continuously for an entire year afterwards."

"In addition to laying waste the mortal population of the city, the Grand Vizier and her allies salted the earth outside Giustenal. It is a dead city in a dead land astride a dead sea."

"And yet, these creatures, these dray, claim to be the children of the departed sorcerer-king..."

"I wonder if they are somehow responsible for his return to the mortal world."

Amunet-Ra wrote:

"I hope you can abstain from eating people in my presence."

Jimbli snorts "I'll do my best."

[dice=sense motive to determine if those around have ill intentions toward him]1d20+10
He sheathes his blade, and takes in his surroundings while listening to the halfling.

[dice=know local or history .. familiarity with what Taalik is speaking about regarding Druid Order]1d20+10
[dice=know local or history .. same regarding Giustenal]1d20+10

The other halfling points at Jimbli,

"I'm gradually starting to piece the last week together again, and I dimly remember you now -- you were a captive of Aditiya M'ke, but he never explained the circumstances by which you became his servant. I remember, with anger, seeing a collar around your neck, and that he chained you to a post as a kind of feral guardian in the evening."

The druid shakes his head in regret,

"I am sorry I could not have done more at the time for you brother, but it seems, by his apparent absence, that young Aditiya met the end he so well deserved at the hands of the dray."

Taalik then seems to focus on some point beyond the immediate horizon, as if remembering a previously lost moment, and then he gasps, apparently struggling to find the words to communicate his new recollection,

"I remember now... the night the dray revealed themselves... they... didn't kill him... they... his skin was separated from his body, and stretched tightly upon the crucifix, but he was still alive. I watched them do it, and heard his screams. Several of the humans assisted them -- they must have had servants among the other members of the caravan... His contorted mouth... His silent screams... They took him with them somehow, and I doubt his cruel fate, even for one so heartless, has yet concluded"

Taalik nods contemplatively, gazing into some space beyond his immediate company, almost as if the halfling is not truly speaking to the mul, but to some, unseen, omniscient observer, when he replies,

"Indeed, this shamsher-baz of the queen" he refers to the Bedouin name of the warrior caste to which Husayn belongs, one of the most elite of Abalach-Re's mansabdars, "speaks truthfully when he avers the inevitability of Dregoth's long-feared return."

His attention then appears to undergo a decided shift to his immediate interlocutors,

"Truly -- my druid order, the BrahmanaŚauca, has for many years anticipated, and prepared for, such an eventuality, training our successive generations of devotees so that they would be prepared when Dregoth and his dread servants inevitably made themselves known once again in the world."

"Hidden within the safeholds of the BrahmanaŚauca in Raam, including the archives of the BrāhmaṇaŚauca-Granthaalaya, are maps of the dead sorcerer-king's ruined city Giustenal, as well as over a millennia of compiled notes on his followers."

"I have not myself had an opportunity to study these records, as they are a closely guarded resource which belongs to an elite caste of our order, for it is rightly feared such dark truths would drive even strong minds to ruin."

"But, when we have the ability to return to the city, we must surely prevail upon them to grant us access to their mysteries."

"The fate of the city may depend upon it."

Rokan watches as the creatures push forward a new elf woman. He turns back and addresses Taalik further. Was she another member of your caravan when it was betrayed by the serprentine folk? If so would she have similar ideas about their abilities?

He continues looking at Taalik to await an answer as he begins to walk over to the woman to receive her. He speaks to her softly while walking her back to the group and continuing to give Taalik his ear.

Greetings, oppressed one. Are you okay? How many more of you are held captive by these things?

"She... was not. Nor does she appear to be a native of Raam, as far as I can discern from her appearance."

Rokan watches as the creatures push forward a new elf woman. He turns back and addresses Taalik further. Was she another member of your caravan when it was betrayed by the serprentine folk? If so would she have similar ideas about their abilities?

He continues looking at Taalik to await an answer as he begins to walk over to the woman to receive her. He speaks to her softly while walking her back to the group and continuing to give Taalik his ear.

Greetings, oppressed one. Are you okay? How many more of you are held captive by these things?

The diminutive druid bites his lip slightly as he continues to ponder Rokan's question. His tense jaw unhinges slightly as Taalik appears to reach some species of determination on whatever specific obscurity or conundrum he had up until then been contemplating with such focused concentration,

"To more specifically answer your query, sage Rokan, the texts titled the Kubjikāmata and Kaulajñānanirnaya which are in my order's possession and speak in detail of the nature, detection, and manipulation of the auras or chakras, are held in the great archive known as the Granthaalaya-BrāhmaṇaŚauca, the venerable institution of which I have already made mention in our conversation. It stands beside the royal menagerie of Raam, in the shadow of the Queen's Hill. These texts are a component of the anatomical and physiological divisions of the archive. However, there study is considered dangerous and esoteric, and has been neglected in the last few preceding centuries, apparently now to our common peril."

"For it seems eminently likely that my misfortune was not an isolated instance, and that the influence of Dregoth's servants likely now extends itself throughout the city-state of Raam. Given their guise as born-eunuchs of House Altantsetseg, it stands to reason they have infiltrated the highest echelons of Raam's elite society, and acquired undue influence with its unknowing members."

"Should I survive these coming tribulations and safely return to my home, these are matters which I must urgently investigate."

"However, barring some means of quickly returning to Raam to consult these venerable tomes in the Granthaalaya-BrāhmaṇaŚauca, it behooves us to seek another means of accessing the same knowledge, which it is also rumored is spread among others in this world. These include the ancient elves of Kalidnay, the Serpentsingers, who were once renowned for their master of pyramid crystal energy, a variety of the same occult science described in the texts I have just mentioned."

Good point Malkaer. I wonder if he could recall the nature of their disguise, so that we could hope to detect it.

Taalik, apart from the possible origins of this reptilian race, what do you know of the nature of their ability to hide their true form? When it was discovered, were you able to detect anything about them? Was their power arcane in nature? Divine, psionic? Did it come from within or could you perceive a particular item that perhaps granted it? I admit it might have happened quickly, but anything that you gathered at that time could be useful to us avoiding them in the future.

Taalik nods contemplatively

"These are all pointed and significant inquiries, sage Rokan. Their glamor did not despoil the surrounding foliage, so far as I could detect with the aid of my druidic training, and so it would seem they are not defilers, as is their dread master Dregoth of Giustenal."

"Similarly, it seems very likely they are not preservers of the sort that comprise the veiled alliances of the various city-states of the Tablelands."

"Given these considerations, it seems that their supernatural arts must be either pisonic or elemental in nature. I would myself guess that they are templars of Dregoth, and that this is the primary source of their unnatural capabilities. Surely, the dread king has filled again the ranks of his clergy, and with whom would he have accomplished this task, except his loyal creations, who are made in his own terrible image and manner?"

"Yes, this would seem to be the most likely explanation."

"As to how we might detect them, there are sacred writings of my order that speak of savants who can detect the aura, the spiritual substance of a creature, such that, though its form might alter, it nature will remain evident. Those who were able to accomplish this great feat, an esoteric art whose study has dwindled, are among the greatest sages of my comrades. If we could locate another such... perhaps... ?

I'm referring here to the 'aura' rules from Occult Adventures. I'll work in an opportunity for the players to get the aid, or uncover the skill, to use aura detection powers -- such as the analyze aura spell or read aura occult skill unlock in the course of their adventure in Kalidnay.

Aid another wrote:

In melee combat, you can help a friend attack or defend by distracting or interfering with an opponent. If you’re in position to make a melee attack on an opponent that is engaging a friend in melee combat, you can attempt to aid your friend as a standard action. You make an attack roll against AC 10. If you succeed, your friend gains either a +2 bonus on his next attack roll against that opponent or a +2 bonus to AC against that opponent’s next attack (your choice), as long as that attack comes before the beginning of your next turn. Multiple characters can aid the same friend, and similar bonuses stack.

You can also use this standard action to help a friend in other ways, such as when he is affected by a spell, or to assist another character’s skill check.

"So they are cunning and stealthy shapeshifting reptilians. More of a reason to keep a lookout for the likes of them and not let them be close to us. It is a good thing that you informed us. This is novel news. The only reptilian creature that I know of in Athas is the dragon Borys. If they claimed to have been commanded by the presumed dead Sorcerer King Dregoth for his own purposes, he must be responsible for their creation if they were "seeded" which imply a form of breeding and categorized by generations. It would make sense for the race to be created by a wielder of powerful magic if he managed to revive fully or as an undead. Taalik, do you recall any records in your archive to verify their claim or were they lying?"

Just as Canaan about to walk the halfling to the druids, she cocks her head to the druids and stops as she received Mishra's missive mentally.

Really? My first impression of the relationship between your orders was different from what you stated. I imagine you would be in good terms with them. I am sorry to hear about the fallout. I hope you can mend the fence between your groups. Perhaps working with one of their members that we rescued is a start.

The halfling bites his lip slightly as he ponders the matter, weighing Canaan's words carefully in his mind,

"What you say all seems very plausible. As I indicated, my order's archives have no record of any such species, and, given that such cataloging is among our principle pursuits, it at least should indicate that they are a rare phenomenon in Athas."

"Even the records of Dregoth's earthly rule are not substantial. Ancient Giustenal was destroyed some two millennia ago, in the 57th year of the 164th King's Age, the year of Friend's Fury by the calculation of the King's Age Calendar. A coalition of the sorcerer-kings led by Abalach-Re descended upon Dregoth's palace in Giustenal and laid him low, also leveling the city once they had disposed of its ruler."

The halfling's features then tense slightly as Slavathras' voice emerges from the night air, and his intense gaze, curiously made of one emerald and and one sapphire lens, search intensely for the source of this new interlocutor,

"Indeed, if he has returned to life, Dregoth will doubtless seek some means of exacting his revenge against the Grand Vizier, and I similarly nurture no expectation that his wrath will not likewise fall upon her oppressed people."

"The city of Raam is already teetering on the brink of chaos. Our mines have been plumbed to their uttermost, and the fields have recently failed to produce their expected harvest. The sorcerer-queen's reserves of grain are low, and the people know that their lives hang in the balance. And yet, the Grand Vizier has largely withdrawn to her palatial demesne in the Queen's Hill which overlooks the city, and devolved the daily administration of its people to the whims of her capricious and factitious templars. For her part, Abalach-Re is said to spend her days communing in esoteric rites with the deity whose messenger she has declared herself -- the many-armed savior god Viṣṇu-Badna. In fact, she has not been seen in public for more than a year..."

"But to answer your query more directly, I have no reason to doubt the veracity of the creature's claims. The ancient records suggest that, like Abalach-Re, Dregoth was obsessed with divinity, and strove to become a god during his mortal existence, and that a cult of his worship dominated the life of ancient Giustenal. For one such as him, the creation of new life, such as these creatures, would seem natural -- servants that saw him as their progenitor, that would serve him faithfully, unquestionably carry out his will, and offer a demonstration of his true divine nature."

Rokan turns his attention away from the minds momentarily to acknowledge Taalik.

Greetings, I am Rokan. I'm glad we could be of assistant. I'm also thankful you're willing to accompany use through the place that you were so recently held. With enough skill and some luck we'll find our way through to the other side.

I'm able to see the level 2 drawing.

Picking back up on the suggested questions, if Canaan doesn't mind.

Taalik, were the drays ever revealed to you in their true form? If so could you describe them to us?

The halfling's voice again appears to assume a slightly halting tone, as if he is now remembering more of the events which transpired on the night of his abduction... or perhaps remembering them more clearly...

"Now that I try to remember, they looked something like ssurrans or pterrans, at least from what I could see under their hoods, but called themselves 'dray', which is not the name of a species with which any of my order's writings is familiar... and that is odd."

"The BrāhmaṇaŚauca as an order is concerned with the preservation of Athas' flora and fauna, and so we possesses vast archives in our libraries within the city of Raam which catalog the various species of our world. I myself have read most of the archives of the Granthaalaya-BrāhmaṇaŚauca, our chief repository in the city, which stands in a corner of the park and menagerie abutting the Queen's Hill, which stands at one corner of the District of Nobles. I have never met with any mention of such creatures as these..."

"In any event, these reptilian creatures disguised themselves as mul 'born-eunuch' swordsmen of House Altantsetseg, the House of the Golden Flower, and were contracted by Zahiriddin Babur, chief procurator of the House M'ke. They only dispensed with their disguise when we were stranded in the middle of the Great Alluvial Sand Wastes, and thus utterly at their mercy."

Amun now frowns again, the reddish hair of his brow seeming something like frozen flame as he appears to uncover yet additional knowledge as the druid probes his recollections,

"In fact, they did not simply identify themselves as 'dray', but as 'the Children of the Second Scale', and the 'Last Generation', and the 'Second Seed'. These appellations clearly held great meaning for them, but of course are a mystery to me. They claimed, as I have said, to serve the dead sorcerer-king Dregoth..."

His words trail off as if Amun continues to rehearse his memories...

"Oh, you poor dear. You had to endure all those hard times alone. But you do not need to face them alone now. You are more than welcome to join our humble expedition group. Your assistance and company would be appreciated."

Canaan help the halfling up.

"You may call me Canaan."

She tilts her head.

"From what you told us, the drays were responsible for your suffering. Are they your captor's business partners or enemies? Anything you can tell us about them from their appearances, allegiance and tendencies would be helpful. They seem like a group we need to watch out for."

Taalik gratefully takes Canaan's proffered hand as he steadies himself. When his balance seems sure, it is as if it once again frees his tongue to speak,

"From what I could gather, the dray initiated a highly exigent business transaction with the servants of this entity they call 'the Master', one which he was not apprised of during its contraction, nor would he have sanctioned should they have approached him with the dray's entreaties."

"As I have indicated in my identification of my person, I hail from the distant city-state of Raam. I am a member of an ancient order known as the BrahmanaŚauca, an order of druids who seek to conserve, preserve, and restore Athas, and maintain ancient traditions whose origins, or so we are led to believe by the writings of our society, are found in the distant Blue Age. My services were engaged by a representative of House M'ke, the chief mercantile establishment of Raam."

"The dray were also attached to this caravan, but employed some powerful magic to assume the appearance of mul swordsmen contracted from House Altantsetseg, the House of the Golden Flower. This noble house is one of those currently favored by the sorcerer-queen Abalache-Re. The dray presented themselves as a pair of swordsmen named Azam and Hidr, and only revealed their true nature when we had approached the middle of the Great Alluvial Sand Wastes while en route to our enterprise here at the mines."

"Admittedly, I possess an uncertain recollection of the evening when they slew several of our party who resisted, those whom the drugs they had administered in our food earlier in the night had not completely overpowered. I believe they mentioned their service to Dregoth, the former ruler of ancient Giustenal. Like Kalid-Ma, he was struck down by several of the other sorcerer-kings, one of which was the Grand Vizier of Raam, Abalach-Re. If this is so, than the ancient sorcerer-king has seemingly returned to life to exact his revenge, or so they claimed. We were to be offerings in exchange for their passage through the mines, so that they could seek some great treasure desired by the Dregoth."

"I fear greatly for my home if indeed this ancient evil has returned to life. Already, the great city is beleaguered by empty mines and failing fields. The people are restless, and buck against the hard yoke of the sorcerer-queen's tyrannical rule. However, even her cruel government is preferable to whatever horrors Dregoth might cause to descend upon us in retaliation for his long-ago defeat.."

"Taalik Amun." Kethe says, rolling the name around on her tongue. "You are free. I am Kethe, my companions can introduce themselves as we..." She stops as a sudden thought strikes her. "We are venturing into the fortress from which you have emerged. No doubt you have less than fond memories of that place, but if there is anything that you can tell us of it, or better yet, if you can accompany us inside, that would be very helpful. We have negotiated an... alliance of sorts with the ones who... Hm, as a matter of fact I am not entirely certain of the relationship here. Give me a moment, please."

Attuning her mind towards the entity or entities who had been speaking in their minds, the dwarf thinks. This captive, was he being sacrificed by your order, or with your blessing? What was the purpose of this ritual? And what might we call you?

The halfling begins his reply somewhat haltingly, but appears to soon regain his ordinary facility with both language and the natural employment of his tongue to form its sounds,

"Well, I was waylaid from a caravan dispatched by House M'ke the great merchant cartel of the city-state of Raam, but they're gone now, and it was only a cruel ruse in any event... so I guess I find myself without any obvious path before me. I will gladly join myself to your party if it offers the possibility of surviving these terrible climes in which I have found myself."

[b]"As to this complex -- it returns to me in small measures. I was held captive after the dray revealed themselves and betrayed the caravan to these creatures, After that, I was held captive for several days in a prison located, I would guess, much deeper within the complex. On one day, which comes to me as a small interruption in an extended blur of darkened recollections, a hooded figure, who I believe may be this 'Master' of whom the others spoke, visited our cells. He complained loudly of the uselessness of the exchange which his servants had made with the dray, and then proceeded to punish one for their error. He, or it, did not address me directly, and, unless I have forgotten another occasion, I did not otherwise encounter this entity."

"We do need a guide. As long as our minds are not tampered with or robbed or the captive is not harmed, I have no objection to this alliance. The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Let us work together to save Athas and remove the threat of the Serpent Spiders."

Scene triggers if we need to worry about the new character.

As soon as the platform stops at the higher platform, Canaan walks towards the captive, offering a hand.

"It's okay to let out a breath, dear. They won't be hurting you any longer otherwise they will be answering to us. Do you have a name?"

Otherwise...

"Like my companion stated, guide us to the heart so we may hear his say that will allow us to make our final decision."

First, yay for returning to the game! I was concerned we'd lost you for a second there :). I'm not sure if we're on the same page about the layout of the area. You're currently right in front of the gates of the fortress -- I'm not sure what the reference to "As soon as the platform stops at the higher platform" connects to in the map -- the characters just floated down from a higher point to the fortress. Let me know if I need to clarify something about the geography of the place.

The unexpectedly freed captive cautiously raises his gaze to meet Canaan's. As he does so, the bard immediately identifies him as a halfling, one of the founding races of Athas who ruled during the semi-mythical Blue Age. His pupils are almost grotesquely dilated, probably a product of some unknown, but undoubtedly averse, pharmacological agent administered by his captors.

He is swathed in a green tunic, a garment whose spectrum of earth tones resonates with the halflings' rich mane of spiky auburn hair, the tips of which now unfurl slightly as they recover from their recent compression under the felt hood which his captors had draped over his head as the final, dramatic preparatory rite of the sacrifice.

Slowly, as if learning to speak once again, his words begin to take shape in the chill night air,

"I am Taalik Amun of the BrahmanaŚauca of Raam. I am... freed then?... Who may I thank for my rescue?"