///Now (midday), Sharn, midday, Sul , Third Week of Therendor (also known as Therendor 15, the 'Sun's Blessing'), 998YK///
So this is the place huh? Rather nice… for a cave. Looking around, these others are a very strange looking lot. Who in the heck are they anyway? And just what is this ‘job’ you have all sign yourself up for anyway?
Thinking back over the last month or so, it all started with a strange
flowery letter inviting you here to
Sharn, with promises of gold, glory, wealth, renowned, amnesty from past crimes, help seeking a lost love ones, asylum from those hunting you; whatever your hearts desire the letter promised. All on the condition that you would come work for some branch of the
Breland’s government, as a ‘specialist’. That your unique talents and skills would be put to use for the betterment of not just this country, but also all of
Khorvaire.
The letters included gold enough to book you passage on ships, gallons, lightning rail or whatever else to come to
Sharn before the Third Week of Therendor, 998YK, the '
Sun's Blessing' festival. You were to call upon the
Ja’Korn’s Manor that is on the 111th floor of
Melden Tower within the
Deathgate district, an adventurer's ward. After arriving. you found the manor built onto the side of the tower, facing the Dagger River. There you were meet by a older gentleman, dressed all in black, and standing rail-straight, who introduced himself as
Phol Rook, the manservant of
Ja’Korn’s Manor. He took you inside to a private room within the manor. Offering your food, bath, and a change of clothing, Phol informed you that you would be meeting your employer later that very afternoon.
When the appointed time arrived, Phol gathered you and all of your luggage (and for the first time you saw the other ‘specialists’ that most have been gathered for this mission) and lead you down a flight of stairs, through a number of doors, down another flight of stairs. And then some more stairs and doors, down, down, down deeper in the cliff you travel. Never once seeing another soul, lit only by
everburn lanterns. You pass dozens of hallways and see other doors that you do not pass through, as Phol leads you through the maze. Soon, the walls become rougher… less ‘worked’ then above. Moisture clings to the walls and you figure you might very well be below the water table now.
Finally you were lead into large cavernous room you are in now. The ceiling is about 20 feet above the tallest head among you and the room is around sixty feet long and thirty wide. Two of the walls hold huge, long scroll and bookracks that extend to the ceiling and are filled with all kinds of dusty tombs and rolled parchment. Along another wall are pictures and portraits. At the other end of the room there was a large wooden table with twelve comfortable chairs. Other chairs and sitting tables are found throughout the room, Near the door is a brandy & wine tray with a number of bottles and glasses. The room is lit with
everburn lanterns, controlled from a master switch that Phol turns up so that you can better see within the room.
“
Your host will be with you shortly m’lords. Would anyone like refreshment? Brandy, Wine, Chilled water mayhaps?” Phol had asked, walking over to stand with his hands behind his back by the brandy table.
And now here you are, awaiting your ‘host’ and possible employer, with a stranger band of misfits you have never been in the presence of… you begin to wonder, just what did you sign up for anyway?
Finally a door opposite the one you entered opens, and in walks a tall, rail-thin man, with pasty white skin, small ears and eyes, a weak chin and large nose. Dressed all in black, the man smiles – and it is not a smile that looks good on his face - as if he were a predator looking at a new born prey – and says “
Ah good you are all here”
Another man follows behind the first, older and dressed like an explorer or woodsman. The speaker takes a seat at the head of the large table and motions the woodsman to take a chair, saying “
Please, everyone take a seat if you would… ah, my dear ‘Fury’ is it not? I am afraid that we have nothing that will accommodate your weight, I will make sure that is corrected in the future, but for now if you do not mind standing…”
Once all – but Fury – have been seated, the strange fellow speaks again, enfolding his long fingers before him as he looks at each of you “
Now then, no time for long pleasantries I am afraid. The nation – the very world – maybe in peril and we not a moment to waste. As you may have guest I am your new employer. You may call me 13 – my… mother, had something of a strange sense of humor” to which he giggles at his own private joke “
I am going to have to ask you to hold any and all questions that you have until I have finished. I promise that I will answer each to the best of my ability, but we have much to discuses and little time to waste.”
Taking a deep breath is begins “
I have gathered you together because the Sa'Goloth artifact is in danger of being reassembled and if that happens, it again threaten the Five Nations with another all-out war.”
“
'What is this Sa'Goloth artifact' you ask? Well it is little wonder that you know nothing about it… 90 years ago it was shattered by the dragon Mel’borneDom’khanya, the Gold. He and other members of his – Chamber – then worked magic so powerful that all knowledge of the Sa'Goloth artifact, written or known, vanished from mortals' memory. But now, somehow that magic is waning and the knowledge has creep back into the wrong minds. They seek to restore the – artifact – to it original glory. If they succeed, well let us say war the like of which the Five Nations has never known would break out and lay waste to all of Khorvaire.”
“
I suppose a little history lesson is in order, for none of you would know any of this. Just over a 100 years ago, the explorer and archeologist by the name Wilium d’Tharashk, lead an expedition into the heart of Xen'draik to seek a lost city of giants there. No one knows the city's name, but it is old, very old. Within the heart of the city there was a giant step-pyramid to some lost god or goddess, and within the temple they found something – the Sa'Goloth artifact. They did not know what it was, but so powerful was their desire to posses it, that Wilium killed the other members of the expedition and smuggled it into Khorvaire, to Karrnath actually.”
“
Somehow he activated the devices and it killed him, but not before it set off a chain of events that lead to the Last War. Each of the leaders of the Fire Nations where so filled with the desire for conquest and power, it blinded them to all else. How you might ask? Well, the artifact is an ancient device of Daelkyr design and somehow it corrupt and control their minds, in ways no one can understand – well no one mortal I would guess. The dragons know and fear the device and so shattered it and erased all evidence of it. But, again, they did not do a very good job it would seem.”
“
We learned through various networks, that something called the Red Daelkyr Tooth was found within an abandoned tomb within Demon Wastes two years ago. The ‘Tooth’ is a part of the Sa'Goloth artifact, and lead to us to rediscovering its' existence. There are five of these ‘teeth’, each made from the tooth of a different colored Chromatic Dragon. Together they form a – base or stand of some kind – for a huge Khyber Shard. It is said to be the largest Khyber Shard ever found; black as night, with something sparking inside. Together these artifacts create the Sa'Goloth. If it is reformed, the Daelkyr will again be able to open a doorway between themselves and those they wish – mainly those in charge. With this ‘control’ they could start another War, and it appears that this time the dragons will do nothing.”
13 sits back in his chair, looking at you each with now serious stares “
I have gathered you all together to make sure that this does not happen. You see, in the past, whenever Breland has been threatened – both internally and externally – there have been those within the government who have called upon a special few to help defend it. These specials have been called the ‘League of the Extraordinaries’. There have been twelve pervious such times that this League has been formed. Twelve times Breland – if not the world – has been saved by past Leagues. And now, for a thirteenth time, the nation and Khorvaire again have need of them.”
“
Of course, these individuals are unknown to history, keep secret by those of us who formed them. For if the common people were to learn of the dangers that they had so often faced, panic could very well be the result. It is better that they do not know how close they come to destruction, don’t you think?”
Nodding to himself he continues “
Each of you has – for your own reason – agreed to work for us; agreed to join this League. And never has there been a greater need. So many of the old heroes are dead or gone. So few remember that which came before. It is a perils journey ahead, but I have every confidence in each of you.”
Pointing at the woodsman that accompanied him into the room when he first appeared, 13 continues “
Neville here has been chosen to lead this League for us in the field. Now you are not in the army, so do not worry over much about military discipline, but we must have someone in charge and Neville is the best man for the job.”
"
Now let me warn you again; those that wish to reassemble the Sa'Goloth artifact are deranged and evil to the core, but they are also cunning and not without their own resources. Their nefarious plans have been in play for at least two years and we have only just started. You will be outnumbered and working blind, for we have no idea where even one of the pieces might be.”
“
Our only lead at the present is a journal written by an Arcanix wizard and one time League member, who was serving in the royal court of lost Cyre named Gillen d'Cannith's. He was able to somehow ‘seal’ this journal away from the dragon magic that destroyed all other knowledge of the artifact. We don’t really know how, but he did. He disappeared with the destruction of Cyre, we assume killed in the calamity of whatever magic was wroth that day. Yes he was well over 100 years old, quite spry for a human”
“
Through my own research I have come to the conclusion that not only did his journal survive the destruction of Cyre, but that it still resides within his tower – deep in the heart of present day Mournland! Your first mission – a most perilous mission indeed – is to recover this journal.”
Pointing toward one of you, he says “
Enden here is the captain of the Air-Gallon, the Endless-Fury, and will get you to the edge of the Mournland Death-Grey Mist Wall, but I strongly suggest that you not take that gallon past that point. We tried not three months ago, and the gallon was lost. It seems that the magic that powered the ship drew things called ‘living spells’ too it like flies. They were attacked by these – ‘spells’ – almost as soon as they cross through the mist wall, and they did not survive more then six hours.”
“
My suggestion is to take travel to Vathirond and then cross by foot, to the wizard’s tower. I will supply you with any food, water and gear that you require and I also have a map of where the tower was located before the destruction. The land has changed in the last four years, but it should still be there. The journal should be located in the top floor of the tower, where Gillen had his special library.”
Sighing he continues “
As most of you know something about the tales and legends of what it is like in the Mournland – well they are all true and far worst. No known healing magic works there, undead and spells that are sentient are everywhere. The air itself has a stale and rank with a foul smell that is unhealthy to breathe. Those few things that somehow did survived the destruction of the nation, have been warped and driven insane by the magic there. They are beasts no long, and now exit only to feed, breed and kill. You are well advised not to eat or drink anything found there.”
“
'How oh how will we survive in such a land Mr. 13?' Well, first, I have every confidence in your abilities. Second, I have found that the Rope Trick spell does allow healing magic to be used within it, as one is ‘detached’ somewhat from the normal prime material plane. I have sent expediencies into the land before to experiment with this idea to prove it to be true. The only problem is that instead of the hours the spell would normally run, this ‘pocket plane’ lasts mere minutes. But this should be enough time for at least healing now and again to take place. I will supply you with ten Rope Trick scrolls.” (occ
cast at 3rd level, so each will last for 3 minutes /occ)
“
Time is not on our side, so I would expect you to leave immediately. The Endless-Fury should be able to get you to Vathirond by tomorrow morning. If you encounter no obstacles, it should take you five days of walking to get to Gillen's tower. Figure another day or two to get in and find the journal, and then six total days to return. So then, if within three weeks, there is no word from you, I will assume that you have failed and will see what I can do next – but know that the very fate of Khorvaire may very well now rests in your hands… ”
Finally, 13 closes his eyes for a second and takes a couple of deep breathers “
I am sure that you have many questions. But first, why don’t you introduce yourself to your fellows. You are going to be working together for some time now and it might be good to at least know each others names…”
(occ
Whoa, that was long 
OK post away, intro yourselves, etc. Then post any questions you have for 13 /occ)
