After a while Mero looks up from his sword and utters and oath, "Pryderi, you are an abomination.  You are meat to be wasted. The people of the high desert hold water to be a sacred confirmation of life, but even they would track you down just to waste water spitting on your shadow. In the land of my birth, great kings are buried in monuments that may last for eternity, their wealth their ticket to life in the here after; tomb robbers are the lowest bastions of
scum and villainy, but you are worse.  For they only take treasure and there is always more,  hidden better.  You take all that defined anyone great or small and twist it to suit your purposes.  Your name blackens the tongue that speaks it. I am through running, when next we meet I will kill you.  You are an abomination!"

That said, Mero lays on his back, hugging his sword, whispering the name Raina in between sobs.

Keridwynne has cast her cures prior to the reflecting pool.  As Mero experiences his despair, she leaves him alone for a little while, letting him get it out of his system a bit.  When he falls over on the ground, however, hugging his sword she goes to talk with him. Suddenly she is moved by the seeming youth of the man, he reminds her of her sons, not seen for so long.  She goes over, and if he will allow it, she folds her cloak into a pillow and puts it on her lap, placing Mero's head on it. She talks to him in soothing tones.  Encouraging him to talk about what he's seen, since she doesn't know the significance of Raina. "Sometimes it helps to talk, to get through the pain."  If he talks she listens and interjects as appropriate.  "These friends" she says
gesturing to the party "helped me, it is not an easy thing to know what someone you have loved
is not at peace and rest, if they are no longer by your side.  I know this from first hand
experience.  We will help you Mero.  We will defeat these demons and their ilk, we will free
Raina... one way or another.  It is possible that if we can gain possession of her... um...earthly
remains... we could take her to a very powerful priestess of the Lady, and she may be resurrected to life.  I don't know what horrible black arts he's used, but such things are not
unknown in the order.  Is there anyone, anyone in the world who it would cheer you to see?  Any family or friends at all?  If he says yes she takes out the magic mirror and explains it's function, and use it to view some pastoral scene to show Mero that not ALL is darkness.  If he says no, I will go on.  Mero is still badly injured, so I will bind his wounds, and give him a massage a bit in the process, as human touch often lends comfort.  If he sufficiently recovers that it seems he can leave the area, I will say.  "I think we should leave this place, go to the ruins of the Siamsa for the night.  This place reeks of death, and it's not really what we need right now."
 
Nightshade watches from the corner of her eyes as Keridwynne comforts the grieving Mero. For a moment she thinks "perhaps Mother is right, and there is more to life than adventure and thievery. Perhaps I should find a goddess to serve too." Then her eyes narrow and
her jaw firms. "Mayhap...but not in this time of war." Aloud she says, "I'm thinking
there's an abomination that must die. But first we must be certain no more remains for prying orbs to see...if everyone catches my meaning? Keridwynne, can you mask us all?"

“I am afraid Nightshade that I am unable to mask our movements but I can detect when and if they scry upon us.  As for traveling unnoticed, Talorc, Tieron or Savi may have the answer but I can not.”  Keridwynne answers.

In his benumbed state, unable to resist, Mero allows Keridwynne to cradle his head in her lap.  Her reference to Duncan lances away some of his guilt.  It helps to know that others have suffered even as he currently suffers, but the pain is still too raw to be completely shed.  The
idea of resurrection is new and fresh, and it sends his thoughts out of their destructive spiral into
happier memories of his brief time with Raina and how he came to meet her.

When Keridwynne asks about any family he wishes to see Mero's thoughts flash briefly to his mother, whom he hasn't seen in 16 years, but he was never very close to her.  Still unwilling to speak, he shakes his head no.  As she begins her massage, his resistance is finally overcome
and he begins to speak raggedly at first and then as Keridwynne continues to show interest he speaks with more confidence.

Mero details his escape from the prison of Lord Sentares, his travels in Persia his teacher and his hatred for chains that enabled him to lash out by freeing slaves; an act that some may consider good, but he knows he did it for selfish reasons, the growing confidence that lead him to Rome,  his life among the Gypsies, his meeting and love for Raina, the years of aimless wandering after Pryderi killed her, the healing he received from Maja, the guilt he still feels
over her death, his years in the court of Camelot, seducing older women who knew already the game of flirt and leave afraid to let himself love, the coming of the representatives of Ashler to the court, the discovery of a party of adventurers hunted by the priests of Ashler, ending with his resolve to seek out that party and help them and convince them to help him destroy his enemies.

Keridwynne listens to the emotional catharsis, while continuing her massage silently encouraging Mero to continue.  The years of pain tallied by this seemingly young man shock her; he is obviously much older than his appearance would suggest.  She hopes her sons are having an
easier life.  Although she is somewhat concerned that Mero is still afraid to love or be loved, he is over the worst of the current crisis and taking Nightshade's warning to heart suggests they head to the city of the Siamsa.

Agreeing, Mero allows her to help him to his feet, forcing a cheerful look.  "Perhaps we'll meet the lady who begot stars and sons there, and she'll help me out of my melancholy," he suggests with a lecherous wink.

Laughing Keridwynne replies, "You already have my friend for I am she.  My twin sons Castor and Pollux are name for  constellations in the sky."  Poking him in a still sore muscle group, she admonishes, "and if you try to follow up that wink, this won't be the only place you'll be bruised and battered."

Talorc ponders Mero and Keridwynne across from him.  As has become usual after a battle, he has set up shop apart from his companions.  The pict sits cross-legged, stripped to the waist wearing only his characteristic brilliant blue cloak pulled back behind him, his face and chest smeared with blood.  In front of him is smoking incense set upon wyvern entrails.  His hands are
busy carving into a leather strap.

The warrior reflects on his companions.  They are seemingly so different.  He ponders the strange series of events that had brought them all together.  If the gods had not been so fickle perhaps he would be in with Pryderi and Sentares, maybe even Ashler.  But then the thought of Montossey arrives, and the whole vision crumbles.  "No, damn these Pryderi's and Sentares's, Montossey's, Arthur's and Pope's," Talorc thinks to Altira, "The one thing I can never tolerate
is a greater evil than myself."

For no apparent reason a Talorc erupts with a wide, toothy grin.  He addresses the party, "We should get away from here soon in any case.  I can cast an identify at next camp, so if there is anything you all have that you are curious about..."  Talorc breaks off his soliloquy.  There is too much tension in the air.  He holds out a section of wyvern guts.  "Giblets, anyone?"

No one answers.   They just shake their heads in disgust.

"Keridwynne, I'll gladly take my goods off your hands.  Were Lorac and Yendor still guarding them?  I would imagine they're very hungry by now" Savi says as she stands and stretches, trying to absorb everything that has happened.

"On the way to the ruins, I'd like to read that book.  I have a bad feeling about this, and maybe the book will give us a clue."

Oh yes, those little rascals... they've probably found strange snacks in these deep pockets, who
knows.  Keridwynne reaches in and produces Savi's gear, Yendor and Lorac first.

Tieron looks down at the pile of magical items after searching the bodies of the druegar.   Then glancing up at the others, Tieron speaks,"We have come very far in such a short time. We
have also changed a great deal.  I wonder if my mother or father would recognize me."

"I used to smile a lot. Do I still?  I haven't had much time to notice."

"Let's get out of here!  Hey, anybody got a boat?"  Tieron chuckles.

A melancholy group of adventurers set out on the evening of January 4th, 523.  The trip is a few hours long.  Savi, has grabbed the old worn and battered book. Most of the pages are torn and waterlogged beyond comprehension.  But still she studies on.  The book as much as she can read, belongs to Ianiar.  The last name is illegible.  It looks as if it was a daily log of her life.  It is filled with some references to people that you do not know.  But as she reads, she begins to pick up on details of her life.  She had a brother and she studied magic under a great diviner.  She practiced her magic and enhanced her telepathic abilities by training.  Though it never says, you can assume that she was a Siamsa but the way the writing is.  It details life up to point and then the book becomes unreadable again.  Its last fifty pages are legible.  They details spells and how to cast them.  The very last page is a map of the city of the old ones.  It would seem that the city was called Xalmen.  Xalmen is the Siamsa word for refuge, Savi informs you.

Keridwynne pulled the mirror from its place deep within the bowels of her deep pockets.  Into it she gazes looking for a picture of her sons.  Castor forms in the image.  His eyes the same a Duncans, hard but soft on the edges.  He battles.  A gnome here and a dwarf there go down on the battlefield.  His hair whipping in the wind of snowstorm.  Mountains looming in the background. Dwarven standards fly in wind.  One is the flag of Dalor, King of the Pennine Dwarves.  The other is another standard of Dwarves.  One that you have never seen before, but on a good guess it would the flag of the Cambrian Dwarves.  Castor falls back to the walls of a fort that no one recognizes.  Pollux pulls his brother inside and slams the wooden doors on some very aggressive gnomes.  The war continues.  Pollux grasps his brothers wounds and his hands glow with magic.  Castor’s wounds close.  Castor slaps his brother on the back and they start up some stairs.

Keridwynne whispers into the mirror, “I see that you fight side by side as always sons.  I know you can hear me but you can not answer.  I am speaking through a device that allows me to see and speak to you.  It is good that you fight the good fight my sons.  Stay well and if you see King Dalor ask him about our cat.  He is holding him for me.  Good-bye for now.”

Keridwynne walks over to Tieron and offers the mirror to him.  With some reluctance, he accepts.

“Jeron,” he speaks, remembering the first time he used this mirror to find him.  Jeron, this time, sits around a campfire in the Moors of Yorkshire, beside him, Doniel and his speaker Taris.  Jeron singing and playing, his hands sometimes coming away from his sitar to draw pictures in the air as he weaves a tale of some nearly forgotten hero.  Tieron watches with interest and then remembering the tale that Jeron speaks,  Tieron starts to recite it as well.

“Kolbjorn came out of the night, eyes ablaze with fury and fire.  The tarrasque never stood a chance.  A single blow felled the mighty beast.  Some say the blow struck that night shattered trees to splinters for miles.  Though the tarrasque was not killed it was flung so far away that it would take many years to return.  It is said that someday should the tarrasque return to the land of the Pendragon, Kolbjorn would walk the land again, searching for it to finish the fight started so long ago.”

The goblins in the mirror clap their approval of Jeron’s retelling of the story.  Jeron bows to his audience and starts into another song.

Tieron smiles and hands the mirror back to Keridwynne, “It is a good tale.”
 
The path rises steeply in front of the party.  It is a long hard climb for the next half an hour.  Those in the party that carry staffs are using them by the time they reach the crest of the hill.  Xalmen lies below you on the path.  It is a good view of what remains of the city of Xalmen.  It spreads out for a mile in all directions.  The cavern ceiling looms far above.  The Siamsa were a surface dwelling people once, and had the ceiling lit with lights.  They cast their light down upon the barren ash and stone now.  The center of the city is nothing but dust and rubble.  The blast pattern carried out to the south.  That section of the city shown no more mercy than the center.  The east a wall here and there stand.  The west is pretty much the same story.  The north is the direction that received the least amount of damage.  A few buildings remain intact though burned.  If a few Siamsa survived the blast they would have come from the north.

Savi looks down upon the city that she has seen, and never seen before.  A small shudder passes through her.  She pulls out the map that she found in the back of the book.  Looking at it she points to several of the standing buildings and says, “That one is a house, that is the stable, the next is the stable keeper’s house.  An inn called the Sheliok Xalmen, a nights refuge, literally.  That, the large one next to the inn is a where Ianiar and the master diviner lived.  Most of the rest are houses.  The last one of any interest is the glass maker’s business.  The ornate one still standing on the far north end of Xalmen.”

The group descends the path into the city of Xalmen and turns north toward the last standing buildings.  The ceiling casting down light in spotlights on the streets.  It feels very strange to walk through a blasted city.  If feels like an abandoned house that even the mice don’t go into anymore.  Tieron cocks his head slightly at the sound of something.  He motions for the party to go silent.  Nightshade turns her head in the same direction.  Mero and the rest look to the north.

Tieron whispers “A shuffling noise like something dragging its feet.”

Nightshade adds, “It is has not noticed us as of yet I don’t think.  It seems to be moving in this general direction.”

The party was approaching the northern part of the city.  The Sheliok Xalmen stands with its doors open.  The group slowly moves within the doors of the old building.  In the brief glance around, this inn was a grand old place.  Its doors carved with mosaics.  Tapestries still stand the test of time.  Wood, a rare oddity in the underground, is in heavy use here.  The chairs, tables and front desk are all made of it.  Stained glass windows filter in a bluish light from the outside.  The party crouches down around the windows and peers through the drapes at the street beyond.  A hunched over form takes a step down the street using a quarterstaff as a walking stick.  It moves very slowly as if in pain or in the depths of old age.  It finally approaches the windows of the Inn and affords a very good view of the creature.

If the creature could stand straighter it would be over seven feet in height.  Its large bulbous head holds a very large brain indeed.  Black eyes with no pupils, a nose that are no more than two slits in the face rather than an actual nose.  Four tentacles surrounding a facial orifice that could only be called mouth.  All in all it looks just like a mind flayer.

Tieron squints to see if it might be an illusion.  So strange, so different.  He thinks, 'Silent. Be a shadow.' and Tieron disappears in the shadows so that not even the shadow can be seen.

Mero is taken aback by the instant fear reaction of his companions.  Although none of them seems to know what manner of creature is passing before the window, Nightshade is obviously ready to skewer it without a second thought.

Quietly so as to hopefully not be overheard by whatever the creature is he begins to lecture, "You people need to learn some tolerance.  Purple skin and tentacles do not make a being evil, anymore than do golden skin and purple antennae.  We just fought and killed several druegar and you still accept Jens as a companion.  Whatever that thing is, it is obviously either old or hurt, and we out number it by a lot.  We should talk to it, it probably knows much  more about the resent history of this city than Savi's notebook.  It may know a way out of this underground cavern that doesn't involve an army of druegar or whatever nasty thing Sentares will send this way since he knows where we are.  The fact that the druegar are still afraid of
this city, means whatever that thing is, it probably isn't associated with the clerics of Ashler.  Unless any
of you know for certain that thing is dangerous, I think the possible benefits of talking to it out weigh the risks.  If you are still afraid, we can let it  get a little farther along the path and I can go talk to it by myself."

Keridwynne thinks (in the seconds before her companions seemingly all go insane) that it is interesting that the mindflayer, for she *thinks* that is what these gruesome looking creatures are called, has one disturbingly familiar feature.
Black Pupiless eyes...

Then, shaking herself from her idle speculations, she stays in the building preparing for whatever happens as her party acts as though it has had a "chaos" spell cast upon it.

Talorc, who has been glassy-eyed for the last several moments, reawakens with Mero's soliloquy.  He shakes his head and holds up a hand admonishingly as he pulls Altira from her resting place.  The fool mouths "stay" to any who are paying attention and does his best somersault out the doorway, backflipping on his arrival some ten feet in front of the illithid, Altira held overhead.

"Hail, stranger.  Before you blow my mind out, I should inform you of the bank of archers with arrows already knocked.  Although, we serve different mistresses, I hope we at least have the same enemy."  With his right hand he pulls an object from his cloak.  Any close inspection reveals it to be the shrunken remains of a duergar head, empty eyes staring blankly forward.

Talorc's smile widens and he tosses the head to the mindflayer. "I realize its only an offering of bones wrapped in fat, but here I give you the head of one called Amorck, in the memory of Scarab Utet."

The mind flayer catches the head in one hand and looks up at Talorc.

Talorc awaits unconsciousness, that never comes.

Deep in the minds of the party, an answer comes, smooth and velvety like good chocolate melting in the mouth.

“You have the courage of a thousand drow, elven one.  No offense meant, for I know of the relations of the drow and your people.  I accept your gift of Amorck in name of  the Matron Mother of Scarab Utet.  Now courage is usually an act of need or an act of stupidity.  I do not believe that it is an act of stupidity on your part, therefore it must be an act of need.  What is it you need, elven one?”

The mind flayer steps forward toward Talorc at his slow pace, “Come.  I have need to sit down and rest these old tentacles.  My house is not far from here.  You can sheath that sword of the Lady’s.  I do not wish to be its next scabbard.  I think I may have much to tell you and my time is short.  My name is far to long to bother you with, the people who lived here once called me the Great Diviner.  That is my name and you and your friends are?”

(Feel free to bombard this mind flayer with questions.)

Savi forcefully walks out of the building, angrily glaring at the mind flayer!

The mind flayer steps back a bit.  Then in everyone’s mind, he says “Savi, you always did do a lot of shouting, when you were in training.  At least that much hasn’t changed even though your memory is not what it used to be.  I will answer all the questions that I can but in due time.  For now I must sit and rest, for these bones are old and I feel even older.  Come, sit and with me and enjoy some tea.”

The mind flayers robes brush Savi as he walks by her.  The rest of the party follows the mind flayer to his house a journey of just a few blocks but the time is more like an hour at the speed at which the mind flayer walks.  He says nothing in the time that it takes to reach his house.

Over the next hour while walking, Talorc will describe the following communication he received from Altira prior to meeting the Master Diviner.

 “Talorc, listen to me.  It is Altira.  Its just you and me here.  No one can hear us not even Savi.  The battle axe that the party carries is intelligent.  I have been talking to it.  He calls himself Domvori.  He has been in Amorcks family for almost four centuries.  He is now in the hands of surface elves and it is scared of them and what they will most likely do to a weapon of the Druegar.  It had a few interesting things to say as well as conveying its fears.  Domvori was present, when Sentares burned the
city of Xalmen.  He heard the pact between Amorck and Sentares.  I think that every inflection is important.  I took the whole conversation from the mind of Domvori including visual record.  I will show it to you.

 “Now.”  Sentares said in barely a whisper.

The explosion ripped through the town.  The blast wave rippled out to the south of the town destroying all in its wake.

 “The first part of our bargain is done, Amorck. The city of Xalmen will trouble you no more and you can have the place to do with as you please.”  Sentares spoke.

 “And the Second?” Amorck questioned.

 “The second part will be done, when you have delivered the first part of our agreement!” Sentares shouted, “I want that bitches head on a plate in front of me.  No one, but no one defies the will of Ashler.  Not even the matron mother of the first house of Scaributto.”

“Scarab Utet,” Amorck corrected.

 “Whatever,” Sentares shrugged, “When you deliver her head, I will hand you the Hammer of the World, myself. With them deprived of its presence there will never be peace between the surface dwarves and when the war comes and is over. Ashler will rule the surface you can step onto the surface once again and reclaim the throne of all dwarves.  I can see it now, Amorck, Hammer in hand, sitting on the throne of the dwarves.  All paying homage.  How quaint, but it suits you.”

 “Time jump. This is three years ago. Amorck got the head of the matron mother, cost him a lot of soldiers to do it but he got it.  He alerted Sentares and Sentares came down here.”  Altira says.  Sentares looked at the head being offered to him on a silver plate by Amorck, “It took you long enough.  What did she die of old age and you dug up the grave or what?  But a bargain is a bargain.”

Sentares pulls out a copperish leather wrapped hammer.  He slowly unwraps the hammer as if it were about to explode.  He makes sure that he grasps that he holds onto the leather and the ornately carved handle of the hammer.  The hammer is made of mitheral entirely from head to handle.  Its head is shaped like a bullet with two pointed ends. The mitheral was carved to make it look as if the metal was actually wood with mitheral bands of encircling both ends.  Looking along the hammer you will notice that it is but one single piece of metal and not a series of pieces forged together.  The handles carvings are mosaics of the god Moradin and
depiction’s of him forging the world with this hammer.  The handle tapers down to a bulbous end.  The end is the face of Moradin himself.

Sentares presents the Hammer to Amorck.  Amorck in his haste nearly grabs the hammer.  Sentares pulls it back.

 “No! You fool.  Grasp it by the leather or this hammer will take you simple mind over and you would be serving Moradin and not the true god Ashler.”  Sentares says.

Amorck reaches out and grasps the hammer by the leather.  Slowly taking it from Sentares, he turns it over in his hands.
 
 “It weighs nothing.” he remarks, “How then if I am to use its powers to become king of all the dwarves, if I can not touch the thing.”

 “Something you should have thought of when you bargained for it so long ago.” Sentares turns to leave, “Oh and do be careful with the leather, he was my favorite Siamsa guard.  Have a good life and remember to guard the underground Siamsa city against intruders.”

 “End of the interesting bits of Domvori’s memory.  Most of the time he just hung on the wall.”  Altira concludes.

The mind flayers opens the door to his small house and steps inside.

“Lights,” he says telepathically.

The torches around the room flare into existence.  The room is large.  In the farthest left corner is a four poster bed with a canopy strung from the ceiling hanging down over it.  A fire place is in the wall next to the bed.  Bookcases dominate the rest of the room taking over the 50 foot length walls.  A small gap between a pair of bookcases next to the bed houses a mirror just a small one no bigger than a hand held one.  The center of the room has a 12 person dining table.  It is currently overrun with stacks of books.  Another door next to the fireplace is the only other exit from this room.   The mind flayer sits down at one of the chairs and gestures for the rest of you to do the same.  Some of you sit , others of you wander the bookcases looking at things.  The mind flayer points to a kettle that is resting over the fireplace and it floats across the room toward him. Halfway across a lot of teacups and mugs appear and drop in front of the 12 chairs.  The water pours from the kettle into one mug and then the next.  The mind flayer drinks deeply of the warm liquid.

“Alright, I have a lot of questions to answer, so I had better start.  Lets start with you Savisorbs.  First do you wonder how I know you?  I trained you in the use of magic, Savi.  I am your teacher.  I knew you from the day you were born to the day that Sentares took you away.  I taught you all that I could.  But the lightning bolt that took your memory, took that away from you.  Sentares has taken a lot from you.  But maybe the time has come for you to take some of that back.”  He pauses to sip at his tea and let these words sink into a dumbstruck Savi.

“Who are you?  Wonder know more.  You are Savisorbs of the city of Xalmen.  This burnt out relic of a town was your home.  That is why this city seems so familiar.

“Why was I able to access the bracers?” Savi blurts in.

“You are the last of your line Savi.  You were to be the next caretaker of the bracers but Sentares interfered with that.  So now you are the last hope of your people.  Only you can access the bracers and only you can face Sentares and hope to win.  You were chosen because, it has been passed down from mother to daughter for centuries.  The next question I would guess would be so what happened to you family?  There is no easy way to say this but they are dead, all of them.  Only you survive.  Your mother, Trelani, whose armor you now wear, was the one that activated the island defenses.  Since you have the armor on, I assume that you found her.  I am sorry Savi.  Your father died when you were but 3 and your sister Ianiar but one.  Ianiar was your only sibling, killed in the blast that destroyed this city.  She, too was my pupil.  You were both so skilled in the arts of magic, now only you.
”

”What does my tattoo signify?” Savi says, her telepathic voice hard and emotionless.

“It was a decoy.  All children in the city and every adult had a tattoo with different numbers.  You were magically given that one, it is the only key that would open the door to the island and release those bracers to you.  Others had tattoo’s but only yours opened the way.  If Sentares, ever caught some of us, he would have to ponder the question of the tattoo.  Everyone had one in the city but only a few knew why they were even there.  The rest of the Siamsa thought they were some sort of counting and tracking mechanism.  Sentare’s orb forced us to this extreme action.  If he captured even one of the city of Xalmen.  He would then force them to tell of the tattoo.  If he found the real answer, he would have killed you instantly, eliminating the threat of the bracers forever.”

“How did you survive the blast?”  Savi asks.

“This is a hard one, Savi.  I am a diviner by profession, I knew of the attack before it came.”

Savi stands quickly, nearly knocking the chair over, “And you let them all die in the fire that Sentares brought!”

“Hear me out child.”  the mind flayer soothes, “I told the leaders of the city about the attack.  They took me seriously.  They deliberated for a long time over what to do.  If they evacuated the city, Sentares would just hunt them some more.  They decided that the only way to save a bit of the race was to watch some of them die.  This town of 1500 Siamsa people would be evacuated.  But 500 of your people would stay behind and await the attack.  They gave up their lives so the rest could live.  They took only volunteers.  The Siamsa never were a faint hearted people, an hour after the announcement, they had 500 who would give their lives to the cause.  Your sister was among those that volunteered.  I tried to talk her out of it but she would not listen.  She sacrificed herself.  Hours before Sentares attacked, they evacuated the city.  I went with them, but I was to return here to wait for you.  It was seen that you would return someday to collect the bracers.  I have waited here for you ever since.   I was to answer the questions that you now have.”

“Where are the rest of my race, if some still survive?”  Savi asks.

“I can tell you but I won’t just yet.  Not until Sentares is dead, if he captures you and tortures you, you and maybe your friends may crack under the pressure and he will know about the Siamsa that has slipped between his fingers.  I can not tell you until Sentares’ heart beats no more.  What you don’t know, you can’t tell him, in case you fail.”

Nightshade interrupts, “But haven’t you just doomed them now by telling us?”

The mind flayer ponders for a bit then says, “Maybe but knowing they are out there is less important than where they are.  If he knew where, it would be more detrimental. “

“Are you familiar with Sentares? Ashler? Hammer of the World? Dwarven wars?” Talorc says sensing a lull in the conversation by the words just spoken.

The mind flayer leans back in his chair, it creaks under his weight or maybe it wasn’t the chair but the bones of an old man.

“Sentares, I am more familiar with than I care to be.  Sentares was/is a demon summoned out of the lower hells.  He exists only to cause conflict and pain.  That is all I really want to know of Sentares.  Of Ashler, I know very little.  Only that Sentares does his bidding, but I don’t think that Ashler keeps to fine a control on that one.  His religion seems foul and corrupt.  Peace between races can only be accepted when they all follow the dictates on one god, Ashler.  That would seem to be his philosophy.”

The diviner settles back into his chair once again, folding his arms across his chest as he does so.

“The Hammer and the Dwarven wars.  What a story that is.  Well, Talorc, the Hammer is just that if you believe the tales told by the dwarves and druegar.  The god Moradin came into being and his first action was to create metal then fire and with those tools he forged the Hammer.  With the Hammer in his great hand, he gathered up the stars and pounded one down small enough to fit inside this world to keep it warm.  Then he formed a crust around it and then his hammer was smoking hot from all the work.  He formed the oceans to dip the great hammer in.  So hot was the hammer that the steam that rose from it created the air that we breathe.  So much water was evaporated as well that the crust poked through the water.  Moradin looked down and saw the world that he created.  He formed of a piece of metal the dwarves and breathed the breath of life into them.  Other gods, saw what Moradin had done and followed in his footsteps.  They created other races and when Moradin was busy, slipped them onto his world.  The rest they say is history.”

“Now to the business of the Dwarven wars.  Centuries ago long after the druegar went deep into the ground, the Pennine Dwarves and the Cambrian Dwarves were ruled by the kings of the Pennines.  The Cambrian’s saw all the wealth they dug disappear into the coffers of the Penninites.  War, a very brief civil war erupted for dwarves anyway.  25 years later, the dwarves were separate.  Now the war begins anew.  The Cambrians with the help of Ashler and his cronies created the Dwarven plague.  It weakened the Penninites to the point that the Cambrians would attack.  Which they did, even as we speak the dwarves fight each other in the mountains.  The gnomes fight for the side of the Cambrians and Ashler.  They hoped to take Penninites in one fell swoop.  The Cambrians figured that the Penninites would be complacent and not figure an attack that would come after the first snowfall.  So the attack came, but the Cambrians did not reckon with the Penninites resolve not to give up their homes so easily.  The woman have taken up arms as well.  It is rumored that the King of the Penninites, a King Dalor, I believe was stricken with the plague but survived.  One far fetched rumor that I have heard is that the Crimson Wolf of old appeared and handed over the legendary Caltor’s shield to Dalor and with it he cured the plague and is resurrecting and healing troops faster than the Cambrians can cut them down.  That is what I know of the Dwarves.” The mind flayer speaks to you in thoughts.  He leans forward and steeples his fingers, leaning his elbows on the table.

“Where could we find Sentares?”  Talorc presses.

“Savi?”, the mind flayer looks at Savi.

“Lambor Castle, I know exactly where he is at all times.  I can feel his awful presence through the bracers.”  Savi says.

Talorc nods and continues,” Why would someone like Sentares sentry a ghost
town such as Xalmen?”

“Sentares never found the bracers.  A fact he dislikes greatly.  He knew that it must be here somewhere, so he had Amorck watch the place for activity and eliminate any one in the area.  Though Amorck knew that I lived here, he never wanted to engage me in battle.  He figured that I would never help the Siamsa and was probably just living out my life here.”

“What brought about the conflict between the rulers of Scarab Utet and Sentares?”  Talorc probes on picking at the brain of the mind flayer not unlike so many mind flayers that would love to pick at Talorcs.

“I don’t have the full details on that one, but rumor says that the he showed up in Scarab Utet searching for allies to destroy Xalmen.  He brought himself before the Matron mother and proposed an alliance.  Her response, I gather was, “Herok Luchon”

Shateera starts to giggle slightly and says “Piss off.”

“Hence the problem.”  The mind flayers tentacles wiggle around a bit, you assume that is the way a mind flayer laughs.

“I don't suppose you have some sort of Insta-Identify trick to save me the trouble
of....” Talorc starts to say but seeing the mind flayers reaction gives up on the thought, “oh well, I have it memorized anyway.”

“Finally someone who's willing to answer questions.” Mero says, “I have a lot of questions that I hope that you can answer.”

“Go on, Mero.  I see so many things that you need to uncover for yourself but I will answer those that I can.”

“Is Raina undead? If so would it be possible within the next year to resurrect her?”

“The answer to both those questions is yes, Mero.”

“What is Sentares?  Was he Lord Archelous or did he assume his identity and wife?”

“Sentares is a demon, pure and simple born on another plane with powers that I don’t fully understand.  He killed Lord Archelous during your imprisonment in the real Archelous dungeon.  He has used his face and wife ever since.”

“The writings on the wall of the room of the orb, suggest the Siamsa originally made my sword.  I didn't know it was anything special until it started helping me see in the dark.  If the Siamsa did make it, what other powers does it have?” queries Mero.

“Your sword was originally meant to be the sword that destroyed Sentares.  It had a will of its own and more powers than it was originally designed for.  In fact none of the powers of the sword that it was supposed to be ever came to light.  It developed its own magic abilities that seemed to change with each owner.  It was labeled the Sword of Silent Discovery.  It can not be identified, it will not show up on a detect magic unless it wants to.  It can not or will not speak to tell you its powers.  It is up to you to discover them.”

“Why is the cult of Ashler attracting representatives from all around Europe, when the other religions on this Isle seem to be content staying here?”

“Ashler promises great power and with the tastes of power that he hands out to his representatives, many are seduced by him.  As to why the other religions are not opposing, well I have theories but not real explanations.  My first theory is when Ashler tried this the first time around, he killed so many priesthoods off that they are few that are willing to fight him in the open.  They do fight though just look to your own priestess and find that Keridwynne firmly sticks a thorn in Ashlers side almost on a daily basis.”
 

“Why do Savi and I seem to be linked?  Is it only that we both carry Siamsa weapons or does it have something to do with whatever caused my grandfather to
go AWOL from the Roman army?”  Mero presses on.

“Your link to the Siamsa, started with your Grandfather and he knew enough to depart this land and take Silent Discovery with him.  He was wise enough to pass it down on his deathbed to his child and then to you.  It has been said by some of the best diviners of the future that the bearer of Silent Discovery will hold the key to the death of Sentares.   I know no more.”  The mind flayer has been staring at his hands the whole time that he spoke those words.  You see that his knuckles are white with strain as if gripping something far to hard.

“Are there any more Siamsa like Savi who are immune to Sentares control?” Mero continues.

“Yes, there were many, but now there are just a few.  They have scattered to the four corners of this isle seeking solace and refuge from Sentares.  There are not enough left to be an effective fighting force if that is what you are asking.”

“How do you sneak up on a telepath?”

“You don’t.”

“What do the druegar have to do with the stone giants; the orb room suggested a connection?”  Mero says.

“The druegar have no connection to the Stone giants that I know of.  The gnomes according to the text on the wall have the information that will lead you to the second piece of the amulet of Zarakfen.”  The mind flayer answers.

“What was the rest of the text on that wall that I didn't have time to read?”

“You sure do ask a great many questions Mero. I will recite as best I can.  She will be like us but her blood will make her immune to the will of Sentares.  Her travels will be many before she comes to claim that which is her birthright.  She will bring others tied to many causes but they will all seek answers.  The bearer of Zarakfen searches for the clue that will unlock his destiny.  The gnomes have the answer he seeks.  A sightless man he came here, leaving now sighted, explores the gift of his grandfather.  His weapon constructed by the hands of we and powered by the gods themselves.  His journey of discovery has just begun.   His past relationship the key to the death of Sentares. The woman who begot the stars and sons should find them at the time of apple blossoms to help them in their time of greatest need.  The wolf in the fold will soon face a danger from within and without, which will lead her to a crossroads that she can not ignore.  The past will revisit the king without a crown, but will tangle him up in its embrace and he will have to decide to fall.”

“Is there an exit from here that doesn't involve going through the druegar town?”

“Yes, you can go out through the drow city of Scarab Utet.  But if that is not to your liking I would fly back up the hole that you fell through to get here.  It is an easy flight but a difficult climb.”

“What happened to the hammer of the world?”  Mero keeps up the relentless assault of questions.

“How Sentares came into it I do not know.  It still resides in the hall of Amorck in the city of Amorck.  Yes, Amorck was an important figure in Druegar society.”

“How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?” Mero asks with the hint of a smile.

Without missing a beat, the mind flayer replies, “None you just stick your tentacles up and pull it out.”  His tentacles wave quite a bit after communicating that.

"Where are the gnomes that have the other half of the amulet of Zarakfen?"  Tieron asks after the mind flayer calms down from his laughing at his own joke.

“The answer is the Cambrian mountains, the very heart of the Gnomish culture.  Find those that sympathize with you and maybe they will point the way, Tieron.”

While everyone else is asking questions of the G.D., I quietly augury my goddess, asking if we can trust the G.D. Either way, I will ask a few questions, I will just judge the answers based on her reply.   Keridwynne will state later when out of range of the mind flayer that the Lady said yes.

“How  do all these great weapons seem to be related to the fight against Ashler.  Did the Lady create them as part of some great plan?”  Keridwynne asks.

“Your Lady has fought with Ashler for some time, but never directly, she has plotted and waited for the time of his downfall.  Some twenty years ago, she helped a band of adventurers try to rid him from this world.  It only martyred him, it would seem and he came back ever stronger.  I believe that she has woven all these weapons together from history, some of her creation and some of other gods to be found and used.  I also wouldn’t say that they were all just weapons.  Look around, I see Altira, Silent Discovery, The Bracers, Zarakfen’s amulet and the Cloak of the Crimson Wolf.  I would think them to be a very large coincidence or divine interference from your goddess and maybe others.”

“Do we have some duty related to Mishala Nightraven, the bardic shade?”

“She has passed over.  Her duty to you is done.  She waited for you to arrive and gave you the stone that you cast into the water and started the ripple that will wash over Ashler.  Hopefully washing him away.”

“Is there some way Savi can get back her memory?” Keridwynne says switching subjects again.

“Sadly, none that I know of.” The mind flayer hangs his head down.

“Will we cross paths with Akila again?”

“There are always possibilities.”  He says.

The mind flayer looks around, no more questions seem to be forthcoming.  So he rises and excuses himself to his bed, stating that he is an old man and needs his rest.   It is late in the evening of January 4th, 523.

Talorc collects together some items that he is going to identify and asks if anyone wants anything else identified.  He then sets up and starts the cleansing of the magic items.

Turn 62

Talorc will identify general party stuff including: three wineskins of brown liquid, one battle-axe and one silver ring found on Amorck, one small pendant formed like a gold teardrop found on Cahla, and Altira, who has clearly shifted her powers. He'll cast a detect magic in the room and inquire about anything unfamiliar on his companions. Savi inquires,"Would you mind identifying my new armor as well?" "Certainly." Talorc replies. In the morning he discusses the items. "The three wineskins are Potions of Wyvern Control. I'd like one. This battle-axe is of fair power allows the wielder to fight on when he should be unconscious, devilishly inclined, and has something against elves, half- elves, and drow. "This ring is pretty interesting. It grants some defensive capabilities but more fascinating is its ability to uncoil into a 50 feet long lightweight silver rope of 2-inch diameter. It can be cut to shorter lengths with a hard enough slice (10 hp damage), but is capable of remending itself if you hold the cut ends together for one minute and collapse it back down to ring size. "Cahla's pendant here grants unerring direction sense, and Savi, this armor is nice. It grants the same protection as that heavy full plate mail they wear mostly for showing off at Camelot. It's alive, but not really sentient and I guess it will follow simple commands: on, off, whatever. "Apparently, it encases the wearer by flowing over the body. It can not be removed forcibly. It can be killed by weapons or by use of magic just like us. The creature can absorb the same amount of damage as you and will fight to the death. While you're wearing it, it also increases your endurance and well-being. "I figured out what's in the spellbook here. (1st) Alarm, Color Spray, Detect Undead, Hold Portal, Phantasmal Force, Shocking Grasp,... (2nd) Bind, Deeppockets, Continual Light, Fool's Gold, Glitterdust, and Irritation,... (3rd) Monster Summoning I, Vamp touch, Blink, Explosive Runes (though she didn't use it here), Fly, Invis 10 ft radius,... and though they're a bit above me,... (4th) Detect Scrying, Enervation, Fumble, Plant Growth, Poly Self, and Remove Curse. Fun, fun, Fun." Finally, "I wish to go to steal something from the duergar stronghold while we're down here. Anyone interested?"

Savi gets Yendor and Lorac off of the shelves on which they were sleeping. Retrieving her dead sister's spell book she states numbly "I would also like the rope ring if no one else minds." Savi stares at the books on the shelves, trying to remember if she has read any of them. One or two of them look very familiar and in one a very early age scribble of the word Savi is marked in it. "Let's go get that hammer and then the rest of the amulet. I'm not ready to face Sentares just yet."

Keridwynne nudges Savi subtlety and whispers that Mero has just gone through a harrowing experience, and that he has no possessions whatever, save his sword, so perhaps he should have the rope ring, after all, he can't fight as well as you, and may have need of it to break into things, or escape really scary battles. I know you will never have such a need, being a Mighty Warrior Wench with Brass Ovums.

Nightshade eyes the loot. Her eyes roam from the nifty armor to the nifty ring and back. "I'll pass on the axe, I think....one's weaponry shouldn't dislike one." Nightshade, overhearing Savi and Keridwynne's exchange, leans over to suggest softly that perhaps Mero could use the armor too. Savi hands the ring to Mero.

"Oh, uh, I wasn't thinking that, I mean it's her mother's armor, and it is kind of an ensemble with the bracers. Besides, Savi is our Studly Fighter type, I was just thinking something to maybe cheer Mero up a bit. Poor kid. I guess you need cheering up too, Savisorbs, but at least a big piece of your mysterious past is no longer a mystery, and a path to revenge against Sentares and possible salvation of the remainder of your people has opened to you. Of course, whatever we do, the Amazing Crimson Wolf will go down in history for doing, (poking Nightshade playfully). You legend you!" Keridwynne says.

Nightshade grins. "Why then, we shall have to conscript a bard to write up the entire thing and get it right. Of course, the Crimson Wolf will still lead all the ex-ploits, but some mention should be made of her faithful lackeys!" She then dodges any thrown objects.

"Jens, will you accompany us on our travels?" Savi asks. Jens moves closer to Savi and says, "No for two reasons. One, I ran from there once for my life and I do not want to go back. Two, the Great Diviner is not well and I think that someone should take care of him in his final years. Time has taken its toll on him. He walks stiffly and though his magic will sustain him. It is far easier to for me to do some of the work rather than his magic. Good journeys and good luck. I believe that I will see you again someday."

Tieron speaks, "No offense, Talorc, but how do you suggest that we infiltrate a city of Druegar. We are 2 humans, 2 half elves, 1 elf, 1 drow and a Siamsa or an old one to them. Invisible is the only way in I can see. Once there we have 24 hours to find the hammer and extract it before time runs out. We need a good plan. Just one more question. What do you intend to do with it anyway?" Talorc winces, "As to why we should get it, Sentares himself stated that the Hammer was essential to peace between the surface dwarves. This is somewhat puzzling of course. It would seem to me that just handing it over to Dalor would cause more strife than the Hammer's presence would alleviate. So, Tieron, it may make you happy to know that I have no idea what to do with it yet, only that perhaps we will soon be inspired." Addressing everyone a little more generally, "I don't think Invisibility spells are going to get us far in a town of beings who have to police their children from turning invisible and robbing the candy store blind. But perhaps if we have enough information about the layout we could quickly get in and out with the artifact. We have several things going for us. Their defenses should be reduced now, and we do have those potions to control the wyverns. So," he gathers the illithid and duergar (unsuccessfully, of course) with his eyes, "how much can you tell us of Amorck's house and city?" Nightshade sizes up Savi's two furry friends. "Hurm....how heavy to you suppose that hammer is?"

"From what Altira told me, it weighs practically nothing." Talorc states.

The Great Diviner moves to the main table and gestures for all to sit. "You seek a course into the great city of Amorck to steal the Hammer of the World. I have been to the city of the Druegar once long ago, but I remember it still. A small river, over time gouged out a canyon. It is very steep sided. It was here that the city was built. The cliffs carved into homes. The largest and oldest houses are closest to the top and the most well guarded. When I was there last about 50 years ago, they had fifteen levels carved on both sides of the canyon. Each level was connected by a stone bridge. The bridges were constructed on a staggered method. So that if one bridge fell it would not take all the other bridges with it as well. So from a side view the bridges look like steps down into the valley. The top bridge is of course the longest some 500 feet across. The bottom bridge being maybe 50 feet in length. There is only one road into the city from this side and only one exit on the other. Both are guarded by a small sentry post. It houses in the day, no more that 4 guards and at night maybe two. The main foes they were guarding against where the Siamsa but they are gone now and the drow. The drow levitate ability makes blowing the bridges a useless thing. Though at one point they were rigged to do that to slow the Siamsa down in case of attack. I would guess that the explosives are probably still there but not under any sort of upkeep schedule. " Jens breaks in, "I would doubt it also. There are roads that connect the upper levels to the lower levels. Amorck;'s house resided on the third level, just before the bridge. From this angle, you would have to cross no bridges but descend to the third level and then proceed to the bridge. The market is also on the third level though and there is always a lot of traffic on that one. As for a way in, sometimes traders show up and try to sell surface wares to the druegar, which they greedily buy up. Unfortunately, I don't know of any place to acquire such things and make you look like simple merchants. Elves and half elves are still pretty uncommon down here and the drow would be killed on sight if seen. Humans make up the most of the surface traders, a small number of orcs and goblins try to eek out a living as well. But of course their wares are not nearly as good as the rest. Should you wait along the main road you may find a caravan heading that way. They are not real common but at least one a week arrives. They will sometimes pick up hire-ons to guard the shipments or maybe you could just hijack it. The druegar work on a 12 hour day and sleep about 6 hours, leaving them 6 hours to relax. No one works on the fifteenth of every month for it is the day of Laduguer. Laduguer is the main druegar god. These are times of feasts and drinking. Fights are very common at these times." "I toured the gardens," the illithid starts again, "they are the main food source for the druegar. They lie off the main road to the south. It is a large cultivated area of various lichens and fungi as well as a herd of underground cattle that supplies the main source of meat. On the other side, across the first bridge, the road continues. This road leads to the city of the Scarab Utet. But at the first branch in the road to the left is the mining area. It is occupied 24 hours a day by different shifts of miners. It also houses the smelting plant and the weapons making facility. Most of the metal they mine passes through there and comes out again as a weapon or armor or even just cooking utensils. As to Amorck's house I know very little."

Jens says,"Amorck's house, I know very little about as well. But friends used to tell me that it was very oppulent. It housed all manner of things. They said it was like a museum mostly. Things in glass cases all over. Weapons, armor, vases, gems and various other assundries all stored for eternity. Amorck hated company but the Lady Amorck was a social creature, trying to outdo everyone in the city. She was very proud of her husbands collection and liked to show it off for any occasion. Misa was her name, as I recall. Thats about all I can remember. Any other questions that you can think of that I or the Great Diviner may have missed?" "Does the lady, entertain only Druegar or might she entertain others as well if they offered her some great wares and trophies brought from the surface? I am not familiar with Druegar ettiquette." Keridwynne states smiling slightly. "Depends on what you had to offer, anything that would enhance her collection would be welcome indeed, I would guess." Jens answers.