"The Cult of Drench-Oyster fighting the were-raven elves again."Copper half hears while still grazing over the buffet. "Tell us more about this vault filled with diamonds?"
Shamal watched as the Wizard entered, and listened intently to Imani's words. He filed away the information that came out ... Company of the Sunlit Sea ... Fabled Diamond Staff of Chomylla ... Elf Loremasters of Ulvaraen ... Bhaal ... Dracolich named Dretchroyaster and the Cult of the Dragon ... but none of it registered.
Until the elderly Imani concluded. Eldritch power in the service of evil? Fate of all the lands? Shamal realized that this must be why Istus's web had drawn him here! The Sheikh had used to say that the end of a good deed was a slap by the fronds of a palm, but the Sheikh, and his proverbs, were buried by the weight of his indifference to the plight of others.
Shamal stood up and exclaimed:
I swear on the khanjar to recover the Staff of Chomylla! The djinn smile upon this venture, and their will shall be carried out.
Having said what was in his heart, Shamal said naught more and sat back down.
OOC:
Not rolling, because I assume Shamal is ignorant of the local history.
Audio Cue: A clear chime echoed through the hall as the halfling woman hopped down from her perch and rang a bell, drawing everyones attention to the stairwell.
The Primary Subject [Imani, Sage of Hap] attempted a grand entrance, his robes vibrant, his greeting expansive as he used the stairwell like an elevated stage, was this in accordance with status culture in Hap? Note Extensive dermal scarring. Facial burns evident across left cheek, jawline, and neck. No illusion present. Damage is not concealed. Subject exhibits adaptive confidence, functioning at full cognitive capacity.
Nonetheless, the wizard did not linger too long before any of the attentive gazes turned to skepticism. He quickly moved on from the theatrics to the heart of the matter, continuing in more sincere tone, more likely to build rapport with the adventurers gathered. Shade-9 also noted that Imani had not masked his underlying scarring with illusion, did he wear it as a badge of honour or as a reminder?
The intelligence the wizard provided about a Diamond Staff of Chomylla, the Loremasters of Uvaraen , a forgotten temples of a once-dead god, Bhaal helped to explain the wizards motivation and naming the Cult of the Dragon and their terrible champion: Dretchroyaster, added to the impetus.
[Arcana Subsystem. “Diamond Staff of Chomylla”
[Historical Index.
"Uvaeren" - Confirmed
[ Mission Profile. "Dretchroyaster"
- Dracolich
Fail / Data Gap
Loremasters. Elven
Fail → Corrupted entries.
Flagged as anomaly
Seek further data
Chomylla is Uvaeren
Extrapolated threat level: CRITICAL.
Even without primary data available it was easy to extrapolate from Imani's words that the Cult of the Dragon and their champion posed a critical threat. Shade-9 had already detected signs of such corruption and Imani had establish clear mission parameters to act upon.
Each of the adventuers present were presenting themselves. The Orc Urgan Magall was the first to accept the assignment, speaking with an unbridled confidence that was greeted with a distant fanfare of trumpets. Shade-9 could not tell if it was real or magical, but it certainly added ambience. The others stepped forward in turn The red-haired teleporter and the dwarf druid committed easily and Merrick with a little hesitation.
The warforged's systems ticked with quiet efficiency. A new mission directive was being written in the algorithms of war and destiny.
Lorent Aelmoran didn't introduce himself, he didn't feel the need to entertain the uneducated masses. He waited patiently for their antics with food and animals to end.
But when wizard came down, he felt he should know the terms mentioned, he did know them in a sense he recognized them as if he read it somewhere, but the details eluded him. Except Spahirrion whispered the staff name in celestial and he recognized the reference. As for the dragon...He remembered reading about it specifically because Dretch Roaster was too obvious nickname for the mighty elder dragon.
"What of the rest of you? Have you come only to spectate?" The unassuming orc calls out to the hall, sounding angry, and not inspirational as he had hoped. He turns to the wizard. "Well then. We stand before you."
Several adventurers were reluctant to join the growing company, and Urgan's admonition did little to sway them. One yelled, "A dracolich! You must be daft! You'll need an army!"
Someone else ventured, "What's the pay?"
Imani knew that this question would arise, and he was clearly unhappy with his own answer as he said, "The Cult of the Dragon has amassed great wealth. I have spent all that I have in preparing for this venture. I am hoping that you will be more than satisfied by the spoils - all that you find in the Temple and Vault will be yours. All I expect from you is the Staff itself."
"Bah!" shouted another, "You expect us to risk all for nothing!"
With this, several of those gathered stormed out of the tower. When they had gone, Imani smiled at those who remained, saying, "I am grateful that so many of you have offered your swords. The need is great, and there is no time to waste."
His servant began to go around the room, collecting names, while Imani remained on the spiral staircase and asked, "If you have any general questions, I shall answer them. But for questions specific to our target, I aim to show you, in person. It is my plan that we will leave as soon as you are ready. I have a hidden camp very near to the Temple, with a teleportation circle ready to take us there."
GM:
Any questions? If you haven't thrown in your hat yet, we can assume that you do.
The cloaked figure stepped forward from the gloom, his steps as silent as night, his facial features shaded within a heavy hood. His voice was low, precise, and without ornament, with a deliberate quality to it, like every syllable had been weighed and approved before delivery.
"Imani of Hap, your intelligence is sufficient to engage. Truth quotient ... pending field corroboration.
Mission parameters are acceptable,” he said, eyes sweeping the chamber with surgical detachment. “Primary threat vector: Dretchroyaster. Secondary: the Cult of the Dragon. Arcane corruption patterns match prior extrapolations. Tactical escalation probable.”
He looked then to the others gathered - some of noble spirit, some merely hungry for coin or glory. "I have made an initial assessment of assembled unit capability" he advised, his tone clinical and matter-of-fact, delivery without emotion
"The group constitutes multi-specialized operating units with strong thematic and tactical diversity: frontline force, arcane and support capacity, lore, utility and stealth applications. Notably capable in confined terrain and layered environments. However - " there was a pause, a beat just long enough for attention to settle on him fully, “- early cohesion is surface-level. Social rapport masks variance in temperament. Some participants display overconfidence, recklessness or disassociation that may weaken unit effectiveness. I Recommend central leadership or failsafe hierarchy.
"Well I can't say that I'm happy about not getting something up-front." Copper would frown between bites."But a vault of treasures is a vault of treasures."
"Before we leave..." Copper takes out a worn-looking scroll case with a peculiar series of giant runes sealed into it, and hands it to the halfling woman-servant. "If I don't come back, deliver that to the post in the Colored Waters oasis, they will know where to send it."
The letter is addressed to the Kolae-Gileana family in Azrrhat
Merrick is already standing up, gathering his belongings and taking some extra cheese and meats to restock some of his rations.
It was understandable that people would be afraid to go without so much of guarantee of funeral expenses or money for next of kin. For Merrick, it made no difference. If this was a caravan mission, he'd sure as hell have made sure to get half up front but, the opportunity to play havoc with the Dragon Cult's machinations was payment enough. Besides, Fate would provide. Food, weapons, maps. It would all find its way into his hands, somehow.
Something inside him had bent its will against the Cult of the Dragon and he was a passenger to its mission. He gave in to the inevitability. For what it was worth: he was enjoying the ride.
Suddenly, the lights in the room dim almost imperceptibly. Merrick speaks up, this time with power in his voice, rising above the din causing people to and look. He responds to the cloaked figure,
"I've tangled with the Cult before and I speak the language of dragons. I know them and they know me. I've also lead warriors."
His voice is strong and full of confidence and It seems like he's volunteering to lead but instead,
"More importantly, I've adventured with Urgan Magall. He's patient, flexible and creative. Calm in the face of danger. I nominate him."
The lights go back to their normal brightness as Merrick turns away to tie his bag up then walks to the door to take up his Glaive. He stands there, patiently, waiting.
The halfling laughed when Copper handed her a scroll case and said, "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm Corah. I'm a scout, not a servant. It's my job to show you the lay of the land around Blackpeak! But I'll call Lowell over for you!"
She waved to the servant who was taking names, a balding human man, and she handed him the scroll case. Lowell wrote Copper's name onto his ledger, and the details of the delivery, saying, "Colored Waters, yes... I will send it promptly."
GM:
Easy case of mistaken identity. Gave me an opportunity to name them for you!
