False Flame Arising
Sixteenth Day of the Sixth Month 293 AC
For one seemingly so weighted down with cloth of gold and bright jewels, the Bey moves with uncanny swiftness, flinging a piece of glittering jet over your head and directly at Malarys. The chamber quakes with a soundless gust of wind that strikes the mage lord off his feet and binds him in an
egg of shimmering power, then quick as thought he casts a
spear of fire not at any of you but at a circle of burnished brass set just above the door.
Malarys takes 23 damage
As an unseen blade sharper than a razor's edge whistles down upon the threshold you dive forward on sheer instinct.
More than a trap... another barrier. Raising the ivory rod in your left hand you call out a single word of unraveling and the barrier falls even as Malarys shatters the barrier that binds him with a word from bloodied lips, then another stripping your foe of all his arcane protections. Yet where the mage lord needs then to pause for breath you look beyond the study door to the giants only now beginning to raise their weapons. The air itself becomes fire hotter than a furnace's heart at your command.
The giants bellow in rage and challenge as much as pain even as their armor drips and melts upon their forms and one almost cleaves Garin with a jagged axe longer than a man is tall. Alas for it that no blow however mighty can cleave in twain a shadow, and not even their rage can endure Rina's voice heavy with words of
racing wind and rushing doom twice over spoken.
So fly three of the guards like a stone from a war engine's arm, tumbling through the air, their flailing arms gouging at the walls of the corridor. To their credit the remaining pair try to trample Ser Richard to reach their master's side. Sooner might goats trample a lizard-lion. Oathkeeper arcs with impossible swiftness, gouging a pound of half-charred flesh from one's side and slipping beneath the other's ribs to unleash a wellspring of bubbling blood.
Thus does the Bey of Beggars stand alone to face his fate. Perhaps he too deserves some measure of respect for he speaks not words of bluster or threats but instead calls: "Whatever you're being paid, I'll double it!"
"Why would we want to take your bribe when we can claim all that and more from your corpse?" your sister asks, not with the polished malice of her guise but the sheer and honest rage at everything the being before you represents: the Sultan's heartless cruelty, slavery deeper and more hopeless than any mere mortals could inflict.
The
word of death thrums in the air like the shadow of dark wings, though for a moment it seems as though the Bey would survive it, perhaps even long enough to flee. Fate
trembles upon the precipice... and then the Bey's bejeweled robes fall in a heap, naught but ash within them just as Garin's daggers flashed downwards.
"Damn," your friend shakes his head. "No work for a honest blade these days."
Dany gives a slightly weary but relieved laugh as she tosses him the worm's icon of devotion and the letter. "Make it look good oh, honest one."
Lya meanwhile joins you in sweeping through the office, ripping through wards by sheer strength of sorcery and enveloping anything that so much as
seems valuable in the folds of your cloak. If that glittering abyss could be said to feel anything then you would almost call it... content with the task at hand, until that is you reach a very particular piece—the table with the sapphire-scaled hatchling still trapped within.
Gained Treasures of the Bey (Unsorted)
"Maybe we should smash it," Ser Richard suggests upon laying eyes upon it, not without merit you must agree.
"If we can try to make peace and pacts with Amrelath damned and accursed, then surely we aught not slay a hatchling without a word," Dany counters. "What evils could it have worked in so brief a time?"
That too is sense as much as mercy, not least in that such a decision should not be made in haste, and so you slide the table into the clinking depths of your cloak alongside practically everything in the once lavish chamber now stripped almost to bare stone.
Gained Blue Dragon Hatchling
"They might suspect a dragon just on account of how much was taken," Lya says in jest.
"In any other place, perhaps, but here?" you laugh. "Greed is not a vice before the gates of the City of Brass, it is a way of life."
While you had busied yourself with looting Vee had been calling up spirits of flame, pillars that licked the ceiling and vast bonfires that needed no fuel crawling along the ground. At her command they pour outwards, babbling of the glory of Ymeri.
Decent messengers, but poor fighters...
From your own blood you kindle forth spirits alike but born instead of all-consuming flame and bid them to hunt Efreeti wherever they may find them.
Just as the sounds of dozens of heavy footsteps begin to sound from the corridor the seven of you vanish, leaving behind naught but corpses, dust, and falsehood.
***
Zherys awaits you in your study with news from Lys and a surprising offer: "I see that congratulations are in order for thine victory, Excellence. Yet I cannot help but think that it would be a waste of your time, and even that of your mighty companions, to hunt down the remaining fire fey. My own agents in Lys have already trailed a pair of the creatures and I would be more than glad to see them deal with this loose end discretely."
"How did they know where to look, Wisdom?" Dany asks. Though the question could easily have been accusatory it has only an air of frank curiosity.
"The fey are likely to sell tales of each other for a song or a riddle if one but knows what questions to ask." The High Speaker replies as he absently sirs his tea, more from habit than from any notion that such a small thing could cause him any discomfort you suspect.
"And which did they sell?" You smile in appreciation of the light verbal spar.
"The latter," comes the laconic reply.
What do you decide?
[] Agree, the point is well made ,and if you are to be a good lord to the High Speaker then there must be trust between you
[] Ask that his agents work with Hermetia, she could use more foes to test her magic against, and it will give you some idea of just what Zherys' resources in Lys are
[] Politely refuse, you would rather deal with all of this yourself
[] Write in
OOC: The trap Viserys dodged was a reflex save or die for anyone wondering.