///Prolog 6, far to the north, on a wind-swept island within the Lhazaar Principalities///
Something ancient stirred on the throne of bones – cold, hard and unfeeling, the thing twisted its neck with a loud audible pooping from sitting still for so long. Darkness dominated the chamber, with only a few weak small pools of light.
A humanoid being strode into the chamber; dressed in red darkweave robes with a large golden medallion around its neck and an emerald mask covering its face. Bowing its head as it approaches the throne, the being finally knees before the throne “My most holy Undying Goddess of Blood" it says in a low voice of reverence. "Our spies within the Breland kingdom tell us that they have re-learned of the existence of Sa'Goloth artifact, and that they have set into motion plans too recover it. They have re-formed their so-called League of the Extraordinaries who have been charged with seeking information about it. Our spies believe that they have already meet in Sharn and are now on their way into the Mournlands. The spies did not know if they were seeking a piece of the artifact or simply information about it”
The thing on the throne seem to quiver – with rage or excitement it is hard to tell – and speaks with a voice full of malice “Fools" comes a voice, as if from across a great gulf "Do they seek to denied my destiny? Do they wish to assemble this Sa'Goloth and think that they can challenge my rightful rule and enviable transcendence of Godhood? I will not allow it!”
“Alert all my agents throughout Khorvaire too be on the look-out for these so-called Extraordinaries and to report any sightings immediately. Dispatch the best of the Emerald Claw and charge them with the mission of destroying these fools.”
The robed prayer, stands, bows deep again and leaves the chamber. The creature on the throne then turned towards the shadows at one side of the chamber. "Dömöa' got' d'Ghûle" it whispers and from these shadows steps a tall and impossibly emaciated humanoid, completely swathed in form-fitting black leathery armor. A featureless leathern mask covers its head, sealed down the center with black stitching. There is no obvious eye or breathing holes. It crossing its arms before it, in an X pattern salute and bows. These elongated arms end in a four-finger hand, fingers that writhe like blind, hungry worms. A voice emerges from beneath the mask like gurgling mush flowing over a rotting tongue "Goddess" it hisses
The creature on the throne replies “You are the best of my Death-Cult Assassins Dömöa' got' d'Ghûle" it says with some pride in 'her' voice "Now you will prove it again. You leave immediately for Sharn where you are to organize our agents there. Seek out these Extraordinaries and do everything in your power to either discredit or destroy them, I care not, but do NOT allow them to continue with their quest.”
