Portents of Peril
First Day of the First Month 293 AC
The decision seems an easy one. You did not come here to start a war, still less reignite one if the cause of the infestation has anything to do with the Deep Ones. You were asked to reopen a caravan route and that you will do, as swiftly as you can. Ser Richard breathes a sigh of relief at upon hearing this, and Malarys gives a small nod seemingly content. By contrast Dany is not easy with the notion of allowing such a dark thing to work its will unmolested, yet she is not deaf to the cold facts of the matter: your foes are legion even upon the world in which you were born, and they count among them darker things than man. What purpose then to seek yet more foes among the twisting tunnels of this realm?
"Can we not at least look into the future to see if it would be such a dire peril to strike at the heart of the corruption?" she pleads. "For all we know whatever strange logic such strange horrors use would see them react more strongly to a probing attack." She turns to Malarys. "Wisdom, did you not say that one should not trust what is likely when dealing with fiends? Aught that not be be doubly true for beings whose nature is drawn from realms beyond hell and heaven both?"
"Somehow I do not think it is caution that drives you, young Daenerys," the mage-lord says dryly. "However, an argument is no less valid on its own merits for having been presented by who does not hold to it," he continues, the words having a certain air of familiarity about them, as ones oft heard and spoken. "I would make the sacrifice of the Seer myself if needed, though I need time to meditate upon the power at midnight... or at least what would be midnight in the world of men."
"No need," Dany replies. "I can weave both spells of dreams at need."
Malarys raises a questioning eyebrow but does not comment, merely taking a seat to watch the foretelling. Soon the chamber fills with strangely smelling veils of ash and soot, and from that smoke your sister speaks, her voice remote:
Ware the rain of flesh, that which devours
Upon blood it sups deep yet minds its voice scours
Ware the broken chant, the unchained powers
"At least we know negotiations are unlikely," Malarys notes grimly. "Things that sup on blood rarely treat fairly with those who possess it in abundance." The off-handed remark reminds you of Wylla. You wonder what he might think of your dealings with her?
Two more questions does your sister asks the shades of dragons long since gone to dust, of time which you have in abundance for once and of harm that may come to your hosts if you tread in the dark power's heart that might otherwise be avoided. When the last is answered yes your decision hardens, but you also ask questions to prepare for the battle ahead. Thus from your next questions you learn that a ward from corrosive vitriol will serve you well and also that your foes will number less than three. Luckily know nothing of your coming in particular. Lastly the question regarding affinity to the Deep Ones comes upon the same conceptual veiling you had struck before, likely called up by the mere nature of the question and not necessarily the substance of the answer.
When Dany breaks the trance, she looks weary but resolute. Though she is loath to leave dark things to plot as they will, she would never knowingly draw their wrath upon friends.
You lose 5 Gold
Dany loses 100 XP
***
Bidding farewell the elder, you descend down another newly-carved corridor into a vast domed cavern whose ceiling grows porcelain white as the full moon under which odd mushrooms grow in clearly planted patterns, not neat rows but carefully arranged circles mixing the different breeds. You idly wonder why they grow them... perhaps for trade? Here you meet another Xorn, grizzled after the manner of his folk, with skin cracked as granite worn by time and blind in one of his three eyes, one of the 'Far-Delvers' Rock Shaker had spoken of. In a voice more melodious than you have ever heard from one of his kin he introduces himself as Echo Caller.
Besides him stand five bizarre but seemingly docile beasts that look like some crossbreed of beetle and snail, their shells burnt orange and heads chitinous black and adorned with six golden eyes. Once you might have retched with horror or at least disgust on seeing such a thing, but now you can look beyond the alien contours and recognize some sort of riding beast swifter than the Xorn's ponderous walk.
The offer of conjured steeds, however, makes the creatures superfluous even if your guide must struggle a touch with the harness meant for men. You wonder... if a Stone Swimmer were to learn that spell, would they spin six eyed beasts born of shadow and ash?
Of what do you speak on the journey?
[] Of the surrounding caverns, their perils and wonders
[] Of the Xorn and their ways
[] Of Echo Caller himself
[] Write in
OOC: This feels like a decent stopping point, even if it's not the most exciting vote it offers some chance to learn more about the plane and its inhabitants.