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My Dark Sun 4e Game Experience Updated 01/22/2013
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<blockquote data-quote="Raunalyn" data-source="post: 6022532" data-attributes="member: 72670"><p><strong>The Liberation of Raam, Part 2</strong></p><p></p><p>The glaring red sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon. Though the oppressive heat of the day was still present, with the sun gone, it was almost bearable.</p><p></p><p> The moons had not yet risen, and the psurlon, still in a man’s form, began carefully tracing patterns and runes in the sand. Around him, guards from the Vishna manor kept crossbows trained on the dangerous creature. It ignored them, but the added protection still offered some relief to Kratas as he observed the beginning of the ritual.</p><p></p><p> “Is he telling the truth?” Mela was just behind him, also watching the creature, her bow drawn and knocked.</p><p></p><p> Kratas traced the patterns in the sand with his eyes. It was clearly a divination, and the runes did indeed imply that he was attempting to contact the Far Realm.</p><p></p><p> “I think so,” he pointed to several runes, explaining what he could of the ritual.</p><p></p><p> Katrie had roamed over to listen as Kratas explained. Frowning, she whispered, “I still don’t like this. Knowledge of the future is dangerous.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas nodded, “It’s a risk. But, I think that the reward out-weighs any potential risks that may occur of this.” </p><p></p><p> The psurlon had completed his preparations, looking up at the group.</p><p></p><p> “There are a few things I must make clear before we begin. This ritual allows me to speak with some very powerful and nigh incomprehensible beings that exist beyond time and space. My responses to your questions are determined by my interpretation of the visions they will show me. Could it be that my answers are incorrect? Yes…the future is ever changing, and some say that even knowledge of the future changes it. I will give you the most accurate answer that I can according to your current path.”</p><p></p><p> He sat down in the center of the pattern.</p><p></p><p> “Now, the rules. Once the ritual begins, I must answer your questions as they are presented, so take care in discussing my answers until after the ritual is complete. Secondly, there is the possibility that the entities that I am contacting may not have the answers. This is due to the nature of this world; fate has less of a hold here than in other worlds. If this is the case, I will do my best to point you to those who MAY know the answers. Thirdly, be as specific as you can when asking the questions; more specific questions will get clearer answers. And lastly, these answers are not set in stone; as I said, the future is ever changing, and my answers may influence events to change that future.”</p><p></p><p> He rested his hands on his thighs, his posture relaxed and meditative.</p><p></p><p> “Are we ready to begin?”</p><p></p><p> Dryder moved over to the group, “A moment. We must discuss our questions. Gundrek, Kharne? Keep an eye on him.”</p><p></p><p> Kharne crouched in the sand across from Gundrek, his feral eyes carefully watching the psurlon.</p><p></p><p> Dryder, Kratas, Katrie, and Mela moved a short distance away.</p><p></p><p> “So, where do we start,” Dryder asked.</p><p></p><p> “I think we need to think about how to defend the city,” Mela offered.</p><p></p><p> “Agreed,” Kratas nodded. “I think we should also ask about your future, Mela.”</p><p></p><p> “Why me? I don’t want to waste one of the questions if there are more important questions we can ask.”</p><p></p><p> Dryder shook his head, “I think this is important. If we are going to fight the Sorcerer Kings, then we need an advantage. You are a preserver, and progressing you on that path is essential, I think. I have no interest in my future; I’d rather let it unfold on its own. Katrie has already stated she’s not interested. Gundrek doesn’t seem too keen, and who knows what Kharne is thinking. So, that leaves you and Kratas.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas nodded, “I think I should ask about where I can find more teleportation circles. If we are going to begin this war, being able to move about quickly should be on our priority list.”</p><p></p><p> Mela frowned, “Ok then…let’s ask our questions.”</p><p></p><p> The four of them return to the psurlon, surrounding him. Dryder nodded to the creature.</p><p></p><p> Closing his eyes, the psurlon began breathing deeply through his nostrils. The shadows around the site grew darker as he began chanting in a low, raspy voice. Kratas leaned in, carefully watching and listening, hoping to gather as much information as he could.</p><p></p><p> As the first stars began to show in the night sky, a strange chill descended on the site. Finally, the psurlon stopped his chanting, slumping, appearing to almost be asleep. Kratas looked over at Dryder and nodded…it was time to begin.</p><p></p><p> Dryder stepped forward, his voice quiet, “How do we protect the city of Raam and defeat the invading Sorcerer King?”</p><p></p><p> The psurlon spoke, his voice accompanied by a strange, almost fluting chime. Mist issued from his lips, as if from a cold desert night.</p><p></p><p> “<em>The city is threatened by the Moon King, but there are those that will fight him. Enemies shall become allies so that they may war against him. One must fall to defeat the Moon King, but their death shall make them a legend.”</em></p><p></p><p> Gundrek looked up, confusion on his face, “Moon King…”</p><p></p><p> Katrie nudged him, “Quiet…we’ll discuss it when the ritual is over.”</p><p></p><p> Mela stepped forward, “What must I do to achieve the strength necessary to become a preserver who can effectively fight the Dragon and the Sorcerer Kings?”</p><p></p><p> The psurlon is visibly weakened, and again, frost billows from his mouth, those same fluting chimes sending chills through the group.</p><p></p><p> “<em>The mad King rages, his madness like a plague. His madness threatens the lost king. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p> <em>The lost king has fallen, but has risen to glory. When his child falls to the Mother, her children will gather. She will devour them, and her power will grow. The lost king will choose one more so that they may stand against the Mother. In doing so, they will open the path to the first Sorcerer</em>.”</p><p></p><p> Mela glanced at Kratas, “Well THAT made sense.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas shook his head, then stepped forward, “How can I gain more knowledge of the planes and discover the weak points that would allow me to move between them?”</p><p></p><p> The answer took a bit longer for him to answer, and it was obvious that this was painful for the creature.</p><p></p><p> “<em>Five moons, suspended in darkness, their darkness shall eclipse the sun. When the five become one, the sleeper will awaken, and his blessing to his saviors shall be darkness</em>.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas was visibly startled by this, and his eyes gleamed.</p><p></p><p> While Kratas was pondering the meaning of his answer, the psurlon collapsed. Gundrek moved beside Kratas and whispered, “He’s weak now…we could take him out.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas shook his head, “No. He honored his side of the bargain, so we will honor ours.”</p><p></p><p> Turning to the guards, Dryder nodded at them, “Let him go. He won’t harm anyone.”</p><p></p><p> Turning to the psurlon, Dryder leaned in, “Don’t ever return here, or the deal is off…I have no problem killing you if I see you again.”</p><p></p><p> The creature nodded, wearily standing up. Kratas respectfully nodded to him as the creature began walking into the desert.</p><p></p><p> “Mad King? Lost King? Moon King? None of that made any sense,” Mela sounded frustrated.</p><p></p><p> “These beings don’t see things as we do. He was interpreting the answers as best he could,” Kratas replied.</p><p></p><p> “I don’t know of a mad king or a lost king. The Moon King is obvious…that’s Tectuktitlay,” Dryder muttered.</p><p></p><p> “I remember reading of several cities to the north that were ruled by Sorcerer Kings, but no one has heard from them in centuries,” Kratas shrugged.</p><p></p><p> “Then maybe we should go north?” Mela asked.</p><p></p><p> “Not now,” Katrie interrupted. “We have bigger concerns. This city for one.”</p><p></p><p> “I agree,” Dryder nodded. “I think we need to speak with Maarham as soon as possible.”</p><p></p><p> </p><p>The lands of the southern Nawab were dirty and unkempt. From Mela’s perspective, their initial reports that Nawab Maarham was little better than a brigand were correct. This was further reinforced by the band of bedraggled men that had ridden out to meet their small party.</p><p></p><p> Their leader, a scarred and tattooed Mul, approached them. On the back of his Erdlu, the battle-scarred veteran towered over them. Mela guessed that he was hoping to use the extra height to intimidate them. Sensing the two representatives from Nawab M’Ke and Nawab Vishnu shuffling behind her, she guessed that it was working on them, at least.</p><p></p><p> Smirking down at them, the Mul spoke with a surprisingly intelligent voice, “Welcome to the lands of our lord, Nawab Maarham. Know that any who are uninvited will be asked to leave….once.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas stepped forward, “We’d like the pleasure of speaking to your lord, sir.”</p><p></p><p> The Mul’s smirk grew wider, “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, my friend. You see, our master is a bit busy right now.”</p><p></p><p> Gundrek, seeing a fellow warrior, stepped forward, tossing the scarred Mul a ceramic coin, “We still need to speak to him.”</p><p></p><p> The Mul, catching the coin, gave it a cursory glance, one eyebrow raised, before tossing it down onto the sand, “Don’t insult me, friend. Now, I will have to ask you to leave.”</p><p></p><p> Kratas, throwing a slight frown at Gundrek, tossed a small pouch to the scarred Mul. As the Mul caught it, they could all hear the heavy clink of several coins within.</p><p></p><p> “Good sir, I believe your lord would like to speak with us.”</p><p></p><p> Smiling welcomingly at the group, the scarred Mul tossed the slightly heavy sack in the air, testing its weight, “I do believe that we might be able to find some time for the Nawab to speak with you. Now, if you’ll follow me. Oh, and I will need your weapons, please. Just a precaution…”</p><p> </p><p></p><p> They sat within the common area, a large, open courtyard with rows of benches. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from the wall, making the shadowed courtyard almost pleasant.</p><p></p><p> Kratas could tell that Kharne was growing bored; the Halfling was no longer trying to catch desert lizards in the courtyard’s small garden. Now, he was eying the guards, his head cocked in a manner that Kratas came to recognize as potential trouble.</p><p></p><p> Fortunately, Nawab Maarham chose that time to make his presence known. </p><p></p><p> Maarham was a large man. His rotund stomach and rolling gait made it apparent that he was a man who enjoyed excess. However, his bearing, squared shouldered and commanding, made it apparent that Maarham was once a great warrior, possibly a general.</p><p></p><p> “Ah, my guests,” he said after a moment of carefully sizing them up. Kratas glanced over at Dryder, who was casually leaning against one of the walls. Kratas knew better; the rogue was making it clear that he was ready in case things went poorly.</p><p></p><p> Kratas and Mela moved to sit at one of the benches flanking a large table, nodding respectfully at Maarham as the large man settled his bulk across from him. Beside them, the representatives of the other Nawabs took their seats as well.</p><p></p><p> Mela began, “Sir, we’d like to discuss an alliance with you and the other nobles. Seeing the looming threat that the Sorcerer King of Draj poses to this city, I think that this would be a beneficial alliance to consider.”</p><p></p><p> Maarham leaned back, resting his hands on his round belly, “Do you honestly think you can win against Tectuktitlay?”</p><p></p><p> Kratas, somewhat surprised by the question, said, “I think, if we pool our resources, we can save this city.”</p><p></p><p> Maarham smiled without humor, “I know what forces this city can muster, and trust me, Draj will easily overcome that. There is no way we can defeat them. Therefore, I have decided to respectfully decline your offer and pool my resources with someone I know will do what is in the best interests of this city.”</p><p></p><p> Behind him, from the darkness of Maarham’s home, a woman stepped into the courtyard. Dryder immediately jerked upright as a familiar wave of pure rage washed over him. Almost unconsciously, the blade was in his hand, summoned from the extradimensional space within his gloves. However, as he discreetly moved to shove the blade into his bag, he noticed that it wasn’t burning.</p><p></p><p> The woman was tall, regal, beautiful and voluptuous. Coldly, she regarded the group, then almost glided to the bench beside Maarham. Kratas, stunned, could only gape as she settled across from him.</p><p></p><p> Kratas, finally finding his tongue, stammered a brief, “My Lady,” as the Grand Vizier of Raam smiled menacingly. Behind him, he could hear a distinct growl as Katrie shifted to her cat form.</p><p></p><p> A thought entered his head, a communication from his friend across the link they all shared, “<em>It’s not her!</em>”</p><p></p><p> Now that Dryder had warned him, Kratas could see it. The woman looked remarkably like the former queen, except that she was much younger. The poise, the presence, those were spot on. But that immortal arrogance that Abalach-Re was capable of was not there.</p><p></p><p> A decoy? A daughter?</p><p></p><p> She watched Kratas’s face for a moment, then began, “You will gather your forces and bring them to us, releasing them to our control. Those of you who comply will be allowed entrance into the city, where you will be allowed to hide within its walls when the attack comes. Failure to comply will result in your being ejected from the city and left to the mercy of Tectuktitlay. And believe us when we say his mercy is quite gruesome.”</p><p></p><p> Mela smiled without humor as Kratas sat back. They could both see Dryder move to sit beside them. </p><p></p><p> “I don’t think those are acceptable terms, Your Highness,” Kratas began.</p><p></p><p> “You have no choice in the matter. Without the walls of our city, you will be forced to defend yourselves against the full might of Tectuktitlay’s army. You will be crushed.”</p><p></p><p> “Or, we can just leave and let him destroy you,” Dryder countered.</p><p></p><p> “We have two of the three major houses who have allied with us, plus a considerable number of slaves and Unclean who are willing to fight with us. If we get up and leave, that will probably be well over half of your forces. We have weeks before his army arrives. That should get us plenty of time to be long gone,” Kratas smiled.</p><p></p><p> “Without our forces to support yours, how long do you think it would take for Draj to breach the walls? What do you think would happen to your city? As you said, his mercy is quite gruesome,” Mela leaned forward casually, trying to appear sympathetic.</p><p></p><p> “The way I see it, my lady, is that you are in no position to bargain. We hold all the cards. So, you can take the deal we present you with, or you lose your city. What we are proposing is a mutually beneficial arrangement that, I think, will ultimately make Raam a stronger nation,” Kratas said.</p><p></p><p> “And what are you proposing?” the Grand Vizier asked.</p><p></p><p> “A council. The three greater nobles would each carry a seat. You would have a seat. The Ghost would represent the Unclean and the slaves that have joined our cause. The minor nobles would each have a representative that would have a say in the council. Plus, you would need to free all of the slaves. And we, in turn, would pledge our support to the defense of Raam and would do whatever we can to return the city to prosperity once the enemy’s forces have been vanquished,” Dryder said.</p><p></p><p> “That is preposterous! You can’t really expect us to agree to those terms!” she was clearly furious.</p><p></p><p> Kratas mentally sent Dryder, “<em>She’s scared.</em>”</p><p></p><p> Dryder leaned forward, "Your Highness…may we speak in private a moment? We are all unarmed here, and there are tons of guards who are ready to defend you. I only ask a few moments of your time.” </p><p></p><p> The Grand Vizier regarded the three of them for a moment, then nodded, waving Maarham away.</p><p></p><p> When he had moved a distance away from them, Dryder quietly said, “We know you aren’t Abalach-Re.”</p><p></p><p> A look of fury, crossed with fear, crossed her, “How dare you! If you even breathe a word of this, we will make it our greatest pleasure to find each of you and torture you until you are nothing but brainless husks.”</p><p></p><p> “Quite the contrary, milady. We want to help you keep your secret. The city needs to believe that a strong leader is protecting them,” Mela offered.</p><p></p><p> “Just have a meeting with the Nawabs, milady. Listen to what they have to say. A unified front will do more to help save your city that anything else we do,” Kratas replied.</p><p></p><p> She was thoughtful; their logic was sound.</p><p></p><p>"How did you know?" She asked quietly.</p><p></p><p>"Because we are the ones that killed Abalack-Re," Dryder replied.</p><p></p><p>Her response was so low that it was almost inaudible, "No, she is still very much alive."</p><p></p><p>After a moment, she nodded.</p><p></p><p> “Bring them to our palace tomorrow at dusk. There, we will discuss this…alliance,” she moved as if to stand.</p><p></p><p> Dryder interrupted, “If I may. I suggest we have the meeting at neutral ground. That way, no one will feel threatened.”</p><p></p><p> The Grand Vizier seemed almost humored that Dryder had so quickly seen through her ruse.</p><p></p><p> “Very well. We will have a tent set up on the outskirts of the city. Each of the representatives is welcome, as well as two advisors each. Dinner will be served, as well. Is this acceptable?”</p><p></p><p> The three of them nodded. The Grand Vizier stood.</p><p></p><p> “One last thing, milady,” Dryder said. “I want to know the identity of those that killed my family.”</p><p></p><p> She looked down at him for a moment, then stated, “We cannot help you with that, we’re afraid. Tomorrow evening.”</p><p></p><p></p><p> The tent was not overly large, nor was it extravagant. Slaves moved in and out, placing platters and plates on the large table in the center, which was flanked by serviceable chairs. Already, the three Nawabs and their representatives were seated, and Dryder could see Nanda Shatri quietly talking with Tor Val and Ela near the back of the tent.</p><p></p><p> Just as the sun was setting, the Grand Vizier arrived, followed by a shrouded woman, obviously a bodyguard, and a very tall man dressed in the regalia of the Mansadbars. The rest of the tent quieted and stood as she made her way to the table. She nodded regally before seating herself, and conversation resumed as the representatives followed suit.</p><p></p><p> Soon, the slaves began bringing in trays of sumptuous fare. Beside him, Dryder could sense Gundrek’s displeasure at having so many slaves paraded before him.</p><p></p><p> Finally, the Grand Vizier raised her glass, welcoming all to the meeting. With a slight smirk, she drank from her glass, then took a bite of food from her plate, letting the rest of the tent know that the food was safe to eat. Behind her, the bodyguard remained standing, her face hidden by her shroud.</p><p></p><p> The meeting went well into the night. As the shadows lengthened, slaves brought in lanterns and torches so that the group could discuss battle plans. The Grand Vizier remained silent, letting her Mansabdar Captain do the talking.</p><p></p><p> Gundrek nodded as he and Dryder listened, “I like him. Good leader, solid tactician.”</p><p></p><p> Dryder agreed as he watched the man ask questions about the sizes of the various forces. Even Tor Val seemed impressed by the captain, who they had learned was named Amelon.</p><p></p><p> Dryder caught Kratas’s eye, then moved over to sit beside the Grand Vizier.</p><p></p><p> “Have you thought about what I asked earlier, Your Majesty?” Dryder popped an olive into his mouth.</p><p></p><p> “As we mentioned before, we can’t help you with this,” she looked distracted.</p><p></p><p> Kratas watched this exchange, listening through Dryder as he and the Grand Vizier chatted. His eyes kept returning to the shrouded woman behind the woman pretending to be Abalach-Re. Something kept tickling his brain about her; something was off.</p><p></p><p> Kratas moved closer, trying to get a closer look, pushing the various conversations to the background as he focused his thoughts on the woman.</p><p></p><p> She was tall, but slumped her shoulders slightly to appear less so. But there was something…</p><p></p><p> Her arms! Despite the fact they were crossed, it was clear that they were too long for her body.</p><p></p><p> Kratas’s thoughts returned to that night he investigated the murders of Dryder’s family. The ritual let him see the last sight of a dying person. He recalled lying in bed, watching a woman approach. A woman with unnaturally long arms with wicked claws.</p><p></p><p> With a gasp, he broadcast to Dryder, “<em>The bodyguard! She’s the one.</em>”</p><p></p><p> Dryder paused mid-conversation, his eyes moving to the bodyguard. With a curt nod, Dryder stood and walked over to Kratas.</p><p></p><p> “You’re sure?”</p><p></p><p> “Not completely, no. But, she looks like the creature I remember from the ritual,” Kratas said. “I don’t think the Grand Vizier had anything to do with it, though. She’s clearly frightened of something.”</p><p></p><p> “You think the bodyguard is the power behind the throne?” Dryder asked.</p><p></p><p> Kratas nodded, “And I also wonder what else Abalach-Re has given birth to.”</p><p></p><p></p><p> The day is now the 8th day of Morrow, in the Season of High, in the Year of Guthay’s Defiance, 190th King's Age. In the skies above, the comet known as the Messenger can be seen.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Raunalyn, post: 6022532, member: 72670"] [b]The Liberation of Raam, Part 2[/b] The glaring red sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon. Though the oppressive heat of the day was still present, with the sun gone, it was almost bearable. The moons had not yet risen, and the psurlon, still in a man’s form, began carefully tracing patterns and runes in the sand. Around him, guards from the Vishna manor kept crossbows trained on the dangerous creature. It ignored them, but the added protection still offered some relief to Kratas as he observed the beginning of the ritual. “Is he telling the truth?” Mela was just behind him, also watching the creature, her bow drawn and knocked. Kratas traced the patterns in the sand with his eyes. It was clearly a divination, and the runes did indeed imply that he was attempting to contact the Far Realm. “I think so,” he pointed to several runes, explaining what he could of the ritual. Katrie had roamed over to listen as Kratas explained. Frowning, she whispered, “I still don’t like this. Knowledge of the future is dangerous.” Kratas nodded, “It’s a risk. But, I think that the reward out-weighs any potential risks that may occur of this.” The psurlon had completed his preparations, looking up at the group. “There are a few things I must make clear before we begin. This ritual allows me to speak with some very powerful and nigh incomprehensible beings that exist beyond time and space. My responses to your questions are determined by my interpretation of the visions they will show me. Could it be that my answers are incorrect? Yes…the future is ever changing, and some say that even knowledge of the future changes it. I will give you the most accurate answer that I can according to your current path.” He sat down in the center of the pattern. “Now, the rules. Once the ritual begins, I must answer your questions as they are presented, so take care in discussing my answers until after the ritual is complete. Secondly, there is the possibility that the entities that I am contacting may not have the answers. This is due to the nature of this world; fate has less of a hold here than in other worlds. If this is the case, I will do my best to point you to those who MAY know the answers. Thirdly, be as specific as you can when asking the questions; more specific questions will get clearer answers. And lastly, these answers are not set in stone; as I said, the future is ever changing, and my answers may influence events to change that future.” He rested his hands on his thighs, his posture relaxed and meditative. “Are we ready to begin?” Dryder moved over to the group, “A moment. We must discuss our questions. Gundrek, Kharne? Keep an eye on him.” Kharne crouched in the sand across from Gundrek, his feral eyes carefully watching the psurlon. Dryder, Kratas, Katrie, and Mela moved a short distance away. “So, where do we start,” Dryder asked. “I think we need to think about how to defend the city,” Mela offered. “Agreed,” Kratas nodded. “I think we should also ask about your future, Mela.” “Why me? I don’t want to waste one of the questions if there are more important questions we can ask.” Dryder shook his head, “I think this is important. If we are going to fight the Sorcerer Kings, then we need an advantage. You are a preserver, and progressing you on that path is essential, I think. I have no interest in my future; I’d rather let it unfold on its own. Katrie has already stated she’s not interested. Gundrek doesn’t seem too keen, and who knows what Kharne is thinking. So, that leaves you and Kratas.” Kratas nodded, “I think I should ask about where I can find more teleportation circles. If we are going to begin this war, being able to move about quickly should be on our priority list.” Mela frowned, “Ok then…let’s ask our questions.” The four of them return to the psurlon, surrounding him. Dryder nodded to the creature. Closing his eyes, the psurlon began breathing deeply through his nostrils. The shadows around the site grew darker as he began chanting in a low, raspy voice. Kratas leaned in, carefully watching and listening, hoping to gather as much information as he could. As the first stars began to show in the night sky, a strange chill descended on the site. Finally, the psurlon stopped his chanting, slumping, appearing to almost be asleep. Kratas looked over at Dryder and nodded…it was time to begin. Dryder stepped forward, his voice quiet, “How do we protect the city of Raam and defeat the invading Sorcerer King?” The psurlon spoke, his voice accompanied by a strange, almost fluting chime. Mist issued from his lips, as if from a cold desert night. “[I]The city is threatened by the Moon King, but there are those that will fight him. Enemies shall become allies so that they may war against him. One must fall to defeat the Moon King, but their death shall make them a legend.”[/I] Gundrek looked up, confusion on his face, “Moon King…” Katrie nudged him, “Quiet…we’ll discuss it when the ritual is over.” Mela stepped forward, “What must I do to achieve the strength necessary to become a preserver who can effectively fight the Dragon and the Sorcerer Kings?” The psurlon is visibly weakened, and again, frost billows from his mouth, those same fluting chimes sending chills through the group. “[I]The mad King rages, his madness like a plague. His madness threatens the lost king. [/I] [I]The lost king has fallen, but has risen to glory. When his child falls to the Mother, her children will gather. She will devour them, and her power will grow. The lost king will choose one more so that they may stand against the Mother. In doing so, they will open the path to the first Sorcerer[/I].” Mela glanced at Kratas, “Well THAT made sense.” Kratas shook his head, then stepped forward, “How can I gain more knowledge of the planes and discover the weak points that would allow me to move between them?” The answer took a bit longer for him to answer, and it was obvious that this was painful for the creature. “[I]Five moons, suspended in darkness, their darkness shall eclipse the sun. When the five become one, the sleeper will awaken, and his blessing to his saviors shall be darkness[/I].” Kratas was visibly startled by this, and his eyes gleamed. While Kratas was pondering the meaning of his answer, the psurlon collapsed. Gundrek moved beside Kratas and whispered, “He’s weak now…we could take him out.” Kratas shook his head, “No. He honored his side of the bargain, so we will honor ours.” Turning to the guards, Dryder nodded at them, “Let him go. He won’t harm anyone.” Turning to the psurlon, Dryder leaned in, “Don’t ever return here, or the deal is off…I have no problem killing you if I see you again.” The creature nodded, wearily standing up. Kratas respectfully nodded to him as the creature began walking into the desert. “Mad King? Lost King? Moon King? None of that made any sense,” Mela sounded frustrated. “These beings don’t see things as we do. He was interpreting the answers as best he could,” Kratas replied. “I don’t know of a mad king or a lost king. The Moon King is obvious…that’s Tectuktitlay,” Dryder muttered. “I remember reading of several cities to the north that were ruled by Sorcerer Kings, but no one has heard from them in centuries,” Kratas shrugged. “Then maybe we should go north?” Mela asked. “Not now,” Katrie interrupted. “We have bigger concerns. This city for one.” “I agree,” Dryder nodded. “I think we need to speak with Maarham as soon as possible.” The lands of the southern Nawab were dirty and unkempt. From Mela’s perspective, their initial reports that Nawab Maarham was little better than a brigand were correct. This was further reinforced by the band of bedraggled men that had ridden out to meet their small party. Their leader, a scarred and tattooed Mul, approached them. On the back of his Erdlu, the battle-scarred veteran towered over them. Mela guessed that he was hoping to use the extra height to intimidate them. Sensing the two representatives from Nawab M’Ke and Nawab Vishnu shuffling behind her, she guessed that it was working on them, at least. Smirking down at them, the Mul spoke with a surprisingly intelligent voice, “Welcome to the lands of our lord, Nawab Maarham. Know that any who are uninvited will be asked to leave….once.” Kratas stepped forward, “We’d like the pleasure of speaking to your lord, sir.” The Mul’s smirk grew wider, “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, my friend. You see, our master is a bit busy right now.” Gundrek, seeing a fellow warrior, stepped forward, tossing the scarred Mul a ceramic coin, “We still need to speak to him.” The Mul, catching the coin, gave it a cursory glance, one eyebrow raised, before tossing it down onto the sand, “Don’t insult me, friend. Now, I will have to ask you to leave.” Kratas, throwing a slight frown at Gundrek, tossed a small pouch to the scarred Mul. As the Mul caught it, they could all hear the heavy clink of several coins within. “Good sir, I believe your lord would like to speak with us.” Smiling welcomingly at the group, the scarred Mul tossed the slightly heavy sack in the air, testing its weight, “I do believe that we might be able to find some time for the Nawab to speak with you. Now, if you’ll follow me. Oh, and I will need your weapons, please. Just a precaution…” They sat within the common area, a large, open courtyard with rows of benches. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from the wall, making the shadowed courtyard almost pleasant. Kratas could tell that Kharne was growing bored; the Halfling was no longer trying to catch desert lizards in the courtyard’s small garden. Now, he was eying the guards, his head cocked in a manner that Kratas came to recognize as potential trouble. Fortunately, Nawab Maarham chose that time to make his presence known. Maarham was a large man. His rotund stomach and rolling gait made it apparent that he was a man who enjoyed excess. However, his bearing, squared shouldered and commanding, made it apparent that Maarham was once a great warrior, possibly a general. “Ah, my guests,” he said after a moment of carefully sizing them up. Kratas glanced over at Dryder, who was casually leaning against one of the walls. Kratas knew better; the rogue was making it clear that he was ready in case things went poorly. Kratas and Mela moved to sit at one of the benches flanking a large table, nodding respectfully at Maarham as the large man settled his bulk across from him. Beside them, the representatives of the other Nawabs took their seats as well. Mela began, “Sir, we’d like to discuss an alliance with you and the other nobles. Seeing the looming threat that the Sorcerer King of Draj poses to this city, I think that this would be a beneficial alliance to consider.” Maarham leaned back, resting his hands on his round belly, “Do you honestly think you can win against Tectuktitlay?” Kratas, somewhat surprised by the question, said, “I think, if we pool our resources, we can save this city.” Maarham smiled without humor, “I know what forces this city can muster, and trust me, Draj will easily overcome that. There is no way we can defeat them. Therefore, I have decided to respectfully decline your offer and pool my resources with someone I know will do what is in the best interests of this city.” Behind him, from the darkness of Maarham’s home, a woman stepped into the courtyard. Dryder immediately jerked upright as a familiar wave of pure rage washed over him. Almost unconsciously, the blade was in his hand, summoned from the extradimensional space within his gloves. However, as he discreetly moved to shove the blade into his bag, he noticed that it wasn’t burning. The woman was tall, regal, beautiful and voluptuous. Coldly, she regarded the group, then almost glided to the bench beside Maarham. Kratas, stunned, could only gape as she settled across from him. Kratas, finally finding his tongue, stammered a brief, “My Lady,” as the Grand Vizier of Raam smiled menacingly. Behind him, he could hear a distinct growl as Katrie shifted to her cat form. A thought entered his head, a communication from his friend across the link they all shared, “[I]It’s not her![/I]” Now that Dryder had warned him, Kratas could see it. The woman looked remarkably like the former queen, except that she was much younger. The poise, the presence, those were spot on. But that immortal arrogance that Abalach-Re was capable of was not there. A decoy? A daughter? She watched Kratas’s face for a moment, then began, “You will gather your forces and bring them to us, releasing them to our control. Those of you who comply will be allowed entrance into the city, where you will be allowed to hide within its walls when the attack comes. Failure to comply will result in your being ejected from the city and left to the mercy of Tectuktitlay. And believe us when we say his mercy is quite gruesome.” Mela smiled without humor as Kratas sat back. They could both see Dryder move to sit beside them. “I don’t think those are acceptable terms, Your Highness,” Kratas began. “You have no choice in the matter. Without the walls of our city, you will be forced to defend yourselves against the full might of Tectuktitlay’s army. You will be crushed.” “Or, we can just leave and let him destroy you,” Dryder countered. “We have two of the three major houses who have allied with us, plus a considerable number of slaves and Unclean who are willing to fight with us. If we get up and leave, that will probably be well over half of your forces. We have weeks before his army arrives. That should get us plenty of time to be long gone,” Kratas smiled. “Without our forces to support yours, how long do you think it would take for Draj to breach the walls? What do you think would happen to your city? As you said, his mercy is quite gruesome,” Mela leaned forward casually, trying to appear sympathetic. “The way I see it, my lady, is that you are in no position to bargain. We hold all the cards. So, you can take the deal we present you with, or you lose your city. What we are proposing is a mutually beneficial arrangement that, I think, will ultimately make Raam a stronger nation,” Kratas said. “And what are you proposing?” the Grand Vizier asked. “A council. The three greater nobles would each carry a seat. You would have a seat. The Ghost would represent the Unclean and the slaves that have joined our cause. The minor nobles would each have a representative that would have a say in the council. Plus, you would need to free all of the slaves. And we, in turn, would pledge our support to the defense of Raam and would do whatever we can to return the city to prosperity once the enemy’s forces have been vanquished,” Dryder said. “That is preposterous! You can’t really expect us to agree to those terms!” she was clearly furious. Kratas mentally sent Dryder, “[I]She’s scared.[/I]” Dryder leaned forward, "Your Highness…may we speak in private a moment? We are all unarmed here, and there are tons of guards who are ready to defend you. I only ask a few moments of your time.” The Grand Vizier regarded the three of them for a moment, then nodded, waving Maarham away. When he had moved a distance away from them, Dryder quietly said, “We know you aren’t Abalach-Re.” A look of fury, crossed with fear, crossed her, “How dare you! If you even breathe a word of this, we will make it our greatest pleasure to find each of you and torture you until you are nothing but brainless husks.” “Quite the contrary, milady. We want to help you keep your secret. The city needs to believe that a strong leader is protecting them,” Mela offered. “Just have a meeting with the Nawabs, milady. Listen to what they have to say. A unified front will do more to help save your city that anything else we do,” Kratas replied. She was thoughtful; their logic was sound. "How did you know?" She asked quietly. "Because we are the ones that killed Abalack-Re," Dryder replied. Her response was so low that it was almost inaudible, "No, she is still very much alive." After a moment, she nodded. “Bring them to our palace tomorrow at dusk. There, we will discuss this…alliance,” she moved as if to stand. Dryder interrupted, “If I may. I suggest we have the meeting at neutral ground. That way, no one will feel threatened.” The Grand Vizier seemed almost humored that Dryder had so quickly seen through her ruse. “Very well. We will have a tent set up on the outskirts of the city. Each of the representatives is welcome, as well as two advisors each. Dinner will be served, as well. Is this acceptable?” The three of them nodded. The Grand Vizier stood. “One last thing, milady,” Dryder said. “I want to know the identity of those that killed my family.” She looked down at him for a moment, then stated, “We cannot help you with that, we’re afraid. Tomorrow evening.” The tent was not overly large, nor was it extravagant. Slaves moved in and out, placing platters and plates on the large table in the center, which was flanked by serviceable chairs. Already, the three Nawabs and their representatives were seated, and Dryder could see Nanda Shatri quietly talking with Tor Val and Ela near the back of the tent. Just as the sun was setting, the Grand Vizier arrived, followed by a shrouded woman, obviously a bodyguard, and a very tall man dressed in the regalia of the Mansadbars. The rest of the tent quieted and stood as she made her way to the table. She nodded regally before seating herself, and conversation resumed as the representatives followed suit. Soon, the slaves began bringing in trays of sumptuous fare. Beside him, Dryder could sense Gundrek’s displeasure at having so many slaves paraded before him. Finally, the Grand Vizier raised her glass, welcoming all to the meeting. With a slight smirk, she drank from her glass, then took a bite of food from her plate, letting the rest of the tent know that the food was safe to eat. Behind her, the bodyguard remained standing, her face hidden by her shroud. The meeting went well into the night. As the shadows lengthened, slaves brought in lanterns and torches so that the group could discuss battle plans. The Grand Vizier remained silent, letting her Mansabdar Captain do the talking. Gundrek nodded as he and Dryder listened, “I like him. Good leader, solid tactician.” Dryder agreed as he watched the man ask questions about the sizes of the various forces. Even Tor Val seemed impressed by the captain, who they had learned was named Amelon. Dryder caught Kratas’s eye, then moved over to sit beside the Grand Vizier. “Have you thought about what I asked earlier, Your Majesty?” Dryder popped an olive into his mouth. “As we mentioned before, we can’t help you with this,” she looked distracted. Kratas watched this exchange, listening through Dryder as he and the Grand Vizier chatted. His eyes kept returning to the shrouded woman behind the woman pretending to be Abalach-Re. Something kept tickling his brain about her; something was off. Kratas moved closer, trying to get a closer look, pushing the various conversations to the background as he focused his thoughts on the woman. She was tall, but slumped her shoulders slightly to appear less so. But there was something… Her arms! Despite the fact they were crossed, it was clear that they were too long for her body. Kratas’s thoughts returned to that night he investigated the murders of Dryder’s family. The ritual let him see the last sight of a dying person. He recalled lying in bed, watching a woman approach. A woman with unnaturally long arms with wicked claws. With a gasp, he broadcast to Dryder, “[I]The bodyguard! She’s the one.[/I]” Dryder paused mid-conversation, his eyes moving to the bodyguard. With a curt nod, Dryder stood and walked over to Kratas. “You’re sure?” “Not completely, no. But, she looks like the creature I remember from the ritual,” Kratas said. “I don’t think the Grand Vizier had anything to do with it, though. She’s clearly frightened of something.” “You think the bodyguard is the power behind the throne?” Dryder asked. Kratas nodded, “And I also wonder what else Abalach-Re has given birth to.” The day is now the 8th day of Morrow, in the Season of High, in the Year of Guthay’s Defiance, 190th King's Age. In the skies above, the comet known as the Messenger can be seen. [/QUOTE]
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