Eye of Profane Truth

[silentspace]

"Brother," Rhakzan says after he has finished preparing new spells. "What was it the Priest was saying? Someone is stealing from the church?

"Perhaps there is another power group in Vinecastle. A shadow guild of some sort, hidden there, in the slums?"

"And what of Naramyr Wyrmslayer? Perhaps he has agents in the city as well..."

"I'd like to scout around in the slums. Care to join me?"

 

[Nephtys]

Lessa looks at Moreth before returning to the prime; Why do you not join us? Your pocket realm may be pleasant, but it is somewhat dull."

"I have heard the King's offer, but I do not know his power. Nor do I know the power of those he would oppose.
Vinecastle is just one kingdom of many in the Empire, and the Empire is allied to the Church and the Legion. Empire, Legion and Church are all tied down by the power of the Eye alone. I must therefore assume that the Eye is the strongest side in the conflict, and that Vinecastle is the weakest. The Church is our natural enemy, but of our only possible allies we know neither well enough to make a choice. Thus, I try to learn more."

 

[Nephtys]

Rhakzan ponders his siblings actions. Before they leave, he offers a thought

"The Perfect created the four of us at the same time. It's taken some time for me to realize this, that even though I am Khen-zai, or ethergaunt, and you are not, we are all brothers. I agree with you all, I would rather ally with Vinecastle then with the Church. But my first alliance must be with the three of you, my kin."

"Go meet with the king. I will stay with Moreth for now, and study this city further. Afterwards, I will scout the areas hidden from us, in the shadows."

Rhakzan rests to gain new spells (not sure which ones just now).

Moreth looks at the human-shaped Ethergaunt intensely, nodding in agreement. "You speak the truth. The only ones we can afford to trust are each others. Whoever else we ally with, if they are victorious, will eventually try to get us out of the way. Our origin, our power, makes us too great a threat."
-

Once the others have left he speaks again, "But I do not trust Cann's amulet. It might be more than it seems."

"Brother," Rhakzan says after he has finished preparing new spells. "What was it the Priest was saying? Someone is stealing from the church?

"Perhaps there is another power group in Vinecastle. A shadow guild of some sort, hidden there, in the slums?"

"And what of Naramyr Wyrmslayer? Perhaps he has agents in the city as well..."

"I'd like to scout around in the slums. Care to join me?"

"Perhaps," Moreth's gaze studies the ever changing view of the City intensely. "That might be worthwhile, for this city will surely be of importance in the weeks to come. But the Continent is vast, and I yearn to get to the heart of the problem.
When I have rested today I intend to find the Capital of the Empire, the armies in the north and Naramyr's seat of power.
Once I have seen that I can make my choice."

 

[Nephtys]

Moreth continues looking, searching for large warehouses and the like. Strategies chase each others in his mind like rabid dogs in heat.

 

[Pyrex]

To Lessa: "I am but a simple golem; My sole guarantee is the word of my master the king. If that is not sufficient, then I'm afraid I cannot offer you passage."

"Why should I trust one who would show no trust in return?"
Lessa shrugs, then turns and begins walking back toward the portal.

 

[Rkhet]

Moreth:

You spend some time looking around, not looking for anything in particular. Large warehouses exist, mainly near the docks, but their contents are mundane trade goods.

You chance upon a warehouse that has been converted into a holding pen for slaves. Judging by the ears and figure, they are elves. They are hobbled and shackled, and you can tell by their pallid features and some of the wounds they bear that they are mal-nurished and ill-treated.

When you look around, you find a few more holding pens around the city, of varying sizes. They seemed to be quite common, and one is even guarded by a few Watchmen.


Lessa:

"Please, do not take offense, my lady. It is not a matter of trust, but of tradition. None but royalty and their guardians may bear arms or magic inside the tower. Thus it is written, and thus it shall always be. Though His Highness may be Lord and Master, even he must observe the tower's rules, and so must his guests."

 

[Albedo]

Cann turns back to Lessa, "Go if you must Lessa, but I am continueing on. Do you think I have implicit trust of this man? We have only just met, and I have just begun to scratch the surface of his being. I would not go in here unless I had some... lets just say "contingencies" planned for if things go sour. If one cannot feel comfortable on his enemy's ground, how can he wage a war?" Cann turns to give the construct a broad smile, "Not that I'm saying the king is my enemy of course." He cracks the knuckles of his fiendish hands, "Now lets get this over with. I have much to do today. We should stop wasting time."

 

[Nephtys]

Moreth:

You chance upon a warehouse that has been converted into a holding pen for slaves. Judging by the ears and figure, they are elves. They are hobbled and shackled, and you can tell by their pallid features and some of the wounds they bear that they are mal-nurished and ill-treated.

"I believe," Moreth says to Rkhazan, "that this might lead us to yet another faction. If the elves are opposed to the Empire they may prove quite useful.
Try not to kill them unless you absolutely have to."

With that Moreth shanges shape (ooc: I imagine the Shapechange spell is still in duration, since it should have lasted him five hours or so) into an elderly Elven gentleman and steps trough the mirror into the pens.
"My brothers and sisters!" he speaks, in an ancient but powerful voice, "You will soon be free. But first you must tell me where the one who holds your keys is."

 

[Rkhet]

Moreth: your sudden appearance causes a slight commotion, but to your surprise, the elves seems rather unenthusiastic at the prospect of escape. Some of them goes back to what they were doing; others regard you with a mixture of sadness, pity, and boredom. An old, frail-looking elf with half of one ear missing speaks up:

"You are not from around here, are you? Don't trouble youself, friend. There is nothing you can do for us."

 

[Nephtys]

Moreth smiles "I very much doubt that."
Casting a Greater Arcane Sight Moreth identifies any enchantments in the area.
If the chains are enchanted he then casts a Greater Dispell Magic centered on the speaker, followed by a quickened Acid Fireball shaped to avoid hitting any elf (but the chains binding them).
If the elves are bound by a mind affecting enchantment he casts a Miracle spell to replicate a widened Break Enchantment on the maximum possible number of elves.

If the area is free of enchantments (besides his own aura and the signature of his Mirror-gate), he asks the speaker. "Well then, tell me what binds you here and I will remove it. What prevents your freedom?"