In Wizard's Glass
Seventh Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
The interrogation takes most of the day, though if it had been up to you and the investigators it would have likely ended in less than an hour. You had been the one to invite a council representative, a few hours of your time listening to him repeating the same questions that had already been asked better by others is a small price to pay. You suppose you cannot entirely blame the Guildmaster, given that he personally knew many of those Islin had been on good terms with, meeting with socially often. As far as you are able to ascertain that is all the undine had been until today, an agent sowing dissent into the ears of the powerful and meek alike, never knowing but suspecting who his masters were, especially when he had been pushed so very far to prevent alliances against the Deep Ones.
Those suspicions did not prevent Islin from continuing to serve willingly, the general fear of the predatory depths was nothing besides a hatred of dragons he has been nursing since childhood. The reason why he makes such a potent banner bearer against the Draconic Domains is because he had lost his family, his home, everyone and everything he had ever loved in an attack by the wyrm Alathrax the Bitter, surviving by a seeming miracle to be picked up by a passing fishing ship. A miracle it may have been you realize now, but of a darker sort than most assumed. He had started receiving gifts from anonymous admirers only two years after settling in Vialesk. Soon the gifts became letters, and the letters recruitment. He had never seen the true face of his patrons, of that he was quite certain, and looking though his memories yourself you are inclined to agree.
Aided by donations and advice rooted you suspect in subtle divination Islin and his circle of like-minded friends had sabotaged three trade agreements and the negotiations for a guild division. In the latter case it is difficult to even see at a glance how not having a adamantine smiths guild separate from the steel-forgers would aid the Deep Ones, though thankfully that is not your task here today...
"We will need to restructure protocols against infiltration," one of the interrogator mages notes, eyes snapping open as he lifts his hand from the prisoner's head.
"You will see us all behind a dozen glass walls," Guildmaster Neios snorts, but behind the dismissive tone you hear a thread of real fear, that he and his fellow council members would be denied their privacy, their friends and their chance to campaign effectively behind ever increasing protections. Though you are certainly no expert on Vialesk's government you can see how Islin had threaded his way to the ear of so many influential traders, guildsmen and orators without ever passing through the highest filters against Far Realm infiltration. The Councilors do not wish to have their affairs divined constantly and given the ultimate legislative power rests with them you suspect it will remain so even with the wave of arrests and questioning soon to follow.
Unfortunately, the spy knows very little that would be interesting to you personally, only that his patrons had arranged a personal meeting with him today and commanded him to play the part of Galzerai's envoy to lead one dragon to slay another. "I knew the risks and I took them... worth it... worth it..." the hollow, almost mechanical voice fades from his lips as he recounts the last of his tale.
Moreover he does not know anything about the anvil and who might have stolen it, but there is one secret you manage to extract from his mind, if it can be trusted: Galzerai is not in his lair at the moment, the instructions you were given were almost a perfect path to speaking into the dragon's domain, tripping his very last ward, and hopefully from his perceptive drawing the enraged dragon to return by sorcery at once to deal with the thief.
Perhaps you could claim the anvil for yourself, a small part of you ponders, but you shake off the thought almost at once. Islin is little more than a pawn, albeit a willing one, you cannot trust anything he 'knows'.
As the guards levitate him from the room, still in the sarcophagus lest his masters somehow destroy him before he can stand trial, you ask about the device itself and any other contingencies against Seep One infiltration. The maridar are more than willing to share standard operating procedures and screenings to help the House of Mirrors refine their searches, but the crafting of the sarcophagus is far above the authority of everyone here to share, even the guildmaster. Only by the will of the full Council of Vialesk can such secrets be shared.
Deep One counter-intelligence protocols acquired
In parting Captain Musikos does bend the rules a touch, confirming that they can indeed be crafted by artisans and mages of the City of Splendid Waves.
What do you do next?
[] Begin the Imperial Kobold Project (as previous vote)
[] Continue to try to contact the wryrm Galzerai
-[] Write in
[] Speak to the envoy of Kela
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: There is no need for you guys to clean up the Deep One infiltration here, they have been dealing with things like this for centuries.