The cultists lead the party to a hewn stone room, where a massive stone table is surrounded by primitive wooden chairs. After indicating that you should sit, their leader takes a seat opposite you. A cultist brings two pitchers – one of water, and another of some dark, clotted substance. Mugs are provided.
“To begin with, there is the matter of the recent engagement. Our force met with unexpected resistance. There is no easy way to put this – the thing that destroyed the advance force on the plains east of here was the avatar of a greater power.
“Frankly, we are not certain why he chose to intervene. This should not be considered a failure of intelligence, but rather an unfortunate coincidence. Izzwn rarely intervenes in mortal affairs, save to show up at the site of some great victory – his patronage is, after all, that of strength and victory. He is dangerous because he is not in the habit of explaining his whims, even to his own priests. Indeed, we had thought him neutral in this conflict, as he values only strength. Obviously, we cannot face him directly – unless I have been misled as to the power of our esteemed guests.
“However, we can misdirect our enemies. I am too well-known here to take a direct hand, but I will provide whatever information I can to aid your efforts. The town nearest here was until recently a small village named Ferdham. Less than a year ago, it grew considerably when a war between local goblins and humans escalated, drawing together several goblin tribes. The humans, in turn, amassed a large army.
“We had hoped to complete the portal before the humans’ army mobilized, but unfortunately this was not possible. When we realized this, we reasoned that the forces of light would nonetheless be crushed between the goblins to the northeast and whatever fiends came through the portal.” The man gives an apologetic smile to the demons present. “It was only through the unforeseen intervention of a greater power that this plan was thwarted.
“The war may yet be ours, though – the goblins to the northeast remain unbowed, and even now they may be up to something. They could provide a crucial distraction, buying time for our forces to amass.
“I will give you details on the town: it is well-fortified, though it has been overrun at least once in the past few months. There is a high priest of Pholtus there, and their standing forces are still considerable – I would not recommend a direct assault at this time. The Duke of Antric once kept a palatial residence there, but it has since been converted for military use. It is possible to –”
A distant, muffled boom sounds. A robed cultist bursts through the door. “Pardon, great ones,” she says breathlessly, then turns to the man. “Roillard, those blasted kobolds have come for us!”
“A pox upon their ancestors!” snarls the haggard man. Turning to the group, he quickly explains. “We hired the mercenaries of the Brown Scale long ago for a project. It was unsuccessful, but they tried to demand their pay nonetheless. Of course, we refused. Now, it seems they sense weakness and have come to take what they think is theirs.”