Richter's Revenge rounds 4-5

Baleon feels the magic that keeps him invisible begin to ebb, and he focuses his ki to renew it.  He leaps to the other side of the chasm and stalks stealthily towards his foes.

swift action: spend ki point to activate invisibility trick for 3 more rounds. 
move action:  jump to C8, stealth move to B6 ( A6 is a solid stone wall - see comments in previous post)
standard action:  hold

Richter and the guards look around from side to side, searching for signs of their quarry.  "You won't get past us Arzen!" yells Richter.  To his men: "Draw your swords and form up."  The guards dutifully obey, dropping their crossbows and drawing swords and sturdy steel shields as Richter backs into the entry way.

Richter:  5' step to A4, ready action to cast spell at anyone who appears out of thin air.

Trik:  hold

Guards:  switch weapons

Baleon scowls as Richter (his prey... who was hunting who here?) disappears behind a wall of swords and shields, and decides that there will be no better time to strike.  He drives forward with the speed of a striking viper.  The guard, already wary spins around with admirable speed as the elf seems to materialize out of thin air, but cannot raise his heavy shield in time to meet Baleon's attack and his blade sinks deep into the man's side, punching through chain, bone and muscle with equal ease.  But Richter clearly hired tough men for this job, and the wounded guard shoves himself free and struggles to return Baleon's blow.

Baleon full attack vs flat footed AC:  1d20(roll 15)+7 = hit.  Dmg 1d6+1+2d6 (roll 2,6,3) = 12HP

Richter sees Baleon materliaze.  He hardly notices the grisly wound his man takes at the point of Baleon's sword as he cries out, "Now you're mine elf!"  Richter casts a qick spell and a pair of magical darts arc up over the guard's head and crash down upon Baleon, burning him.  Baleon grunts in pain.

Richter standard action casts magic missile:  auto hit dmg 2d4+2 (roll 1,2) = 5 HP.  11/18 remaining

Trik materializes beside the other guard moments later, a short sword raised in each hand and strikes down.  His opponent manages to block one strike on his shield, but Trik's other blade darts over his defences and tears a blood gash in his cheek.

Trik 5' step from B2, full attack w/ two short swords vs flat footed AC: 1d20 ( roll 9, 17)+4+1 (divine favour) = 1 Hit.  20% miss chance from darkness ( roll 33) = hit.  Dmg 1d6 (roll 5)+1+1 (divine favour) = 7HP.

The guards manage to find their footing and fight back to back against their stealthy assailants.  The guard facing Trik stabs back at the wily cleric, and seems to strike true, but Trik's image melts away, merely an illusion, and the real Trik steps forward to take another swing at the confused guard.  The second guards swings repeatedly at Baleon, but the drow fades in and out of the darkness, evading the man's every blow.

Guard1 attacks Trik:1d20 (roll 16)+5 = hit.  20% miss chance from darkness (roll 50) = hit.  Copycat 50% hit mirror image (roll 08) = miss, mirror image dispelled.

Guard2 attacks Baleon: 1d20+5 (roll 15) = hit.  20% miss chance ( roll 14) = miss

Richter's Revenge - round 3

Baleon feels the heat of the flaming sphere behind him and keeps moving.  He sprints to the pit and vaults forward, landing on a column about midway across the crevasse, which immediately begins to glow yellow.

"There, there!"  yells Richter, pointing to the the glow from beneath Baleon's feet.  Richter's guards wheel around and Richter himself directs his flaming sphere to barrel forward.  The sphere bounces across  the tops of the columns, but before it catches up to Baleon, it fizzles and winks out of existence.  Richter curses loudly and draws his own crossbow, firing wildly. 

As he does so, Baleon completes the second half of his plan and plunges the west half of the room into darkness.  His adversaries now nothing more than dim shadows - except for Richter; the pale light emanating from him from Baleon's earlier attentions now making him clearly stand out in the dim light.

Richter's shot passes two feet to Baleon's right, clatters off the wall and down into the chasm.

Baleon move action to I8, acrobatics check (roll 15+11 = 26 ft), but cannot exceed base spd of 30 in one round so ends in E8.  Standard action cast darkness.

Richter move action direct flaming sphere to F8, then spell duration ends.  Swift action, draw crossbow, Standard action fire crossbow (roll 8 +2 = miss)

On the other side of the room, Baleon sees another set of columns glow yellow, one after another as, presumably, Trik sneaks across the chasm while all eyes are searching for the drow.  He somewhat gives up this advantage when he intones another spell.  One of the guards wheels around and fires at where he thinks he hears the sound, but hits nothing.  His companion fires at Baleon,s glowing column, and while it also misses its mark, it whizzes past Baleon's hip by only a few inches.

Trik move action; standard action casts a spell.

Guard 1 perception check to pinpoint Trik (roll 7+ 2 = fail)
Guard 2 fires at Baleon's square (50% miss chance, +4 AC) roll 18 + 3 = miss.

Richter's Revenge - round 2

Baleon calls on the innate magic of his blood and Richter is limned in dim violet light.  The old man is momentarily startled by this development, but once he determines that the glow poses him no threat, he steals himself.  "You'll have to do better than that drow," he spits.  "Mitra protects me from your devil-born glammers!"

Before the guards can reload their crossbows, Baleon focuses his magical energy.  His image blurs and then vanishes as the two guards raise their weapons for a second shot.

Baleon:
Standard action - cast faerie fire
Swift action - cast vanishing trick
Move action - move to K7, stealth check roll 9+11 = 20

Richter growls as his quarry disappears before his eyes.  "Don't think you can escape me so easily."  He concentrates on the 5 foot diameter ball of flames, guiding it in a sweep around the pillar closest to the thrones, searching.  I'll find you, and then you'll burn!"

30 feet.Richter - move action to move the flaming sphere

From the other side of the chamber, Baleon hears Trik casting another spell.  So to does Richter and his guards.  "There!  To the left, shoot there!"  The guards swivel around and fire blindly at the area they thought they heard Trik's voice from but their bolts clatter harmlessly over the flagstone.

Trik casts a spell, stealth check (roll 14+8) = 22

Guards perception check ( roll 17+2) = 19 = fail to pinpoint.  Shots automatically miss

Note that Trik has moved, I've just marked his last known position on the map.

Note that flaming sphere automatically attacks any creature in a square it moves into, forcing a reflex save to avoid damage.

Richter's Revenge - combat round 1 results

Baleon steels himself and listens for the sound of the guards trying to cross the columns

ready action to cast darkness if someone moves into chasm

But Richter completes his spell, and a blazing ball of flames appears out of nothing to Baleon's left.   It proceeds to roll forward and swing sharply up the dias and into Baleon and Trik's refuge behind the thrones.  Baleon vaults away instinctively as it crashes towards him. . .

Richter casts flaming sphere in N6 as standard action then spends move action to move it across the back of the thrones, but it stops when it reaches Baleon in O5
Baleon reflex save (roll 13)+8+2 (for cover) = 23 vs DC 17 = success, no damage

. . . and finds himself exposed to the crossbows of the two guards, who waste no time firing on him, and though he drops to a low rolling crouch , one of their bolts still grazes his shoulder, drawing blood.

Guards attack (roll 11, 17)+2 vs AC 18 = 1 hit.  1d8 dmg ( roll 2) = 2 HP dmg

Meanwhile, Trik swears and staggers back from the flaming sphere as well.  He casts a spell of his own and disappears from sight.

Trik casts invisibility and moves to K2



End of round 1
 

Status:

Baleon   16/18 hp

Enter Richter - combat round 1

The old man scoffs at Baleon's retort.  "Your drow tricks may have helped you escape my prison Baleon Arzen, but they won't save you this time!"

Baleon starts at the sound of his name.  "That's right, don't think you paltry magical disguise can hide your guilt, or the brand on your arm."

Baleon reflexively grips the scar on his forarm; a runic "F"  burned into his skin when he arrived at Braderscar prison...  And then it all falls into place.  He remembers the old man.  Inspecting him like chattel when he arrived at the prison, then turning him over to his torturers with a dismissive wave...  Baron Richter, warden of Branderscar prison.

Trik ducks behind the other throne and turns to his companion.  "Friend of yours?"

"The warden of the prison I escaped from.  Richter."

"the warden of... but I heard he was executed for gross incompetent after you guys broke out.  What's he doing here?"  Trik poked his head over the throne and yelled across the room.  "Richter is it?  I thought they hung you.  On account of, you know, being an idiot," he added.

Richter screamed back with a hint of madness in his voice.  "I was betrayed by witchcraft and deviltry!  They stripped me of my title, and would have hung me.  But I told them I could find you Baleon Arzen!  I knew all the old places.  And I knew why you had come to the surface, and what you sought.  If I can bring you in, then the duke will pardon me.  So I have watched this place for months, waiting for you to skulk in to finish the job you started all those months ago.  And here you are at last, and so too my salvation!"

Trik ducks back down and starts to load his crossbow.  "You have the nicest friends, elf," he quips to Baleon sardonically.

Richter meanwhile, continues to rant.  "And now, Forsaken of Mitra, burn as you should have at Branderscar!"  This is followed by the unmistakable incantations of Richter casting a spell.

"Oh bollocks," Trik mutters.

Initiative order
Baleon:  17
Richter:  14
Trik:  13
Guards:  11

Baleon and Trik have full cover (+8 AC and 50% miss chance, +10 stealth) so long as they stay prone behind the thrones. If you choose to pop up, fire off a shot and duck back down, you maintain the +8 AC bonus but lose the 50% concealment bonus.   Likewise, Richter gains a +4 AC bonus while directly behind his burly guards.  The two guards are dressed in chain shirts and armed with crossbows, large shields and long swords.

The Vault rounds 4, 5, 6

"Well," Trik muses in response to Baleon's question.  "One throne represents Asmodeus, the other Mitra.  But their guises are meant to mislead - the one you think is Mitra is actually Asmodeus and the one you think is Asmodeus is actually Mitra.  And, we're here to recover artifacts sacred to both gods.  The Asmodean one as a bargaining chip with your mother, and the Mitran one for that half elf noble, so..." Trik scratches his chin in thought.  "I'd say, both thrones?"

Baleon scowls but does not bother replying as he bends down to examine the thrones.  It takes him some time, but he eventually finds a cleverly concealed drawer in the base of each throne.  Further inspection reveals no discernible traps or mechanisms.  Taking a deep breath  he slides them open.  And is surprised when when he is not suffocated by poison gas, disfigured by a jet of acid, or outright incinerated by a magical glyph.  Not for the first time this evening he wonders at these surface dwellers' inability to build a properly trapped treasure vault.  Not that he was complaining mind you.

A single item lies inside each drawer.  Inside the throne of Mitra, sitting upon crushed midnight blue velvet is a silver rod with a crook at one end.  Inside the throne of Asmodeus, nestled amongst blood red velvet, lies an ornately articulated metal gauntlet.

Before Baleon can admire his discovery further, a gravelly voice from the far end of the vault breaks his concentration.

"Step away from the artifacts, defilers!"

Flanked by two heavily armed city watchmen with crossbows levelled stands an grizzled old  aristocrat. Upon his tabard is blazoned the sign of the inquisition.

The Vault - end round 3

Trik mutters something under his breath as Baleon moves to secure his end of the rope to a nearby pillar. He can't make it out, but he's fairly certain its unflattering.

Trik takes a deep breath and skips across the pillars, again surprising Baleon with his fleetness.  He didn't have the grace of a drow, but definitely more nimble than he would have expected from a sun spoiled human.

Each time Trik lands on a new pillar, the rune on its surface begins to glow pale yellow.  As he sprints across the last pillar - the one that Baleon landed on after his jump - its already yellow glow is replaced by an angry red.  "Hmm," remarks Trik as he crosses to safe ground and detaches the rope from his waist.  "Well that can't be a good thing."

Trik examines the murals above each throne on the dais at the other end of the room and gives an appreciative laugh.  "I may have no idea what the glyphs on those columns mean, but I do know a good joke when I see one.  Looks like whoever decorated this vault had a laugh at our dear Divine Mitra's expense."

Seeing Baleon's puzzled expression, Trik continues, pleased to be the expert in their partnership for once.  "See the first picture.  Its of a king signing a document and addressing his people.  At first glance we are to believe this is a depiction of one of the Markadian kings of Talingarde, devout Mitrans every one.  But the Markadians are not a peaceful lot.  They came to power through civil war and eradicated every religion that opposed them.  They have never signed a treaty in their eighty years of power."  He pauses and indicates the second mural of a thief holding a man at knife point while picking the pockets of a woman.  "No, to the nobles and religions that opposed the Markadians, like the family who built this vault, this second picture is a far more accurate portrayal of how the kings of Talingarde have treated their people.  Which means," finishes Trik, moving his attention back to the first mural again, "that this fine contract signing fellow here could be seen as none other than our lord Asmodeus, offering law and order to the oppressed and faceless  masses."

Trik turns to Baleon with eyes that twinkle with mirth.  "Delicious, blasphemous allegory! A tribute to Asmodeus hidden within a tomb sacred to Mitra."

Turn summary:
round 1 - Baleon and Trik move into the vault, asses the situation and do a cursory check for traps
round 2 - Baleon secures a rope and leaps across the chasm.
round 3 - Baleon ties his end of the rope to pillar J2; Trik crosses the chasm by foot.
round 4 - ??

The Vault round 2

Baleon focuses, runs towards the pit and jumps.  He sails across most of the pit and comes to a landing just shy of his mark on the last column on the other side  ( roll (11)+11 = 22 ft cleared).  He totters for an instant  then rights himself and skips to the far side of the chasm (DC 10 to stick the landing: roll (14)+11 = 25).  Behind him, the column that he landed on begins to glow.  The runes etched on its surface gives of a pale yellow light.

Trik whistles in admiration.  "Nice jump elf.  Pretty sure I can't do the same though."  He plays with the rope tied around his waist.  "What's the next move?"

Into the Vault

Vandermir proves true to his word.  The mausoleum grounds are deserted, and Baleon and Trik glide through to the indicated vault smoothly.  The heavy chain on the stone doors has been unlocked, and with some effort the two would be grave robbers pull open one side far enough to slip through.  They descend a narrow staircase and find a secret chamber off the main burial chamber right where it is supposed to be as indicated on Vandermir's map.

"Hmph," snorts Trik as Baleon opens the concealed door.  "This hardly seems worthy of two highly skilled operatives such as ourselves.  The Baron could have sent his butler strolling here."

"We're not out yet human.  Let's not invite trouble."  Baleon turned back to Trik.  "Which brings up a question.  You moved quite stealthily back there.  You are more familiar with the ways of shadow than I would have expected for a priest."

Trik smile and whispered.  " Why Baleon, I think you just paid me a compliment.  Though it was more of a statement than  a question.  People always forget that Asmodeus is the god of trickery and deception as well as tyranny.  I've got a few other tricks up my sleeve."

The two move into the secret chamber.  Magical, flameless torches illuminate this massive stone chamber, which features a strange series of columns rising from a deep chasm in the room’s centre. The top of each column is flush with the surface of the floor and features an arcane rune. At the far end of the room stand two stone thrones on a raised dais. On the wall behind the left throne is a relief of a king signing a document while speaking to a crowd of featureless faces. Behind the right throne is a relief of a thief who holds a knife to a featureless man’s throat while picking the pocket of a nearby woman.

 

Trik looks out over the room, then down at the Baron's map.  "Uh, no mention of crazy stone columns and a giant pit in Vadermir's notes here."

"His butler could do it huh?"  Baleon sighed and moved into the room...

We are now in turn by turn.  Baleon and Trik can each move 6 squares per turn and still take an action,  12 squares if you give up any other action.  you can move diagonally butt the 2nd diagonal you move counts as 2 squares.  It is a DC 5 acrobatics check to move from one column to another (so Baleon only fails on a 1, Trik on a 1-2).  You can automatically pass this test if you spend double movement to cross it.  In your response, please map out the EXACT route you are moving.  You can take actions for both Baleon and Trik.  To speed things along, Perception checks made on the part of the room you are already in reveal no traps or secret doors, nor anything out of the ordinary about the pit (which seems about 40 ft deep) or columns.  Neither Baleon nor Trik recognise the symbols on the columns.

Enter the Baron

Baleon rendevoued with Trik at their arranged spot early in the evening. The sun was beginning to set and already the drow was finding his mood improve as he gained some relief from the summer glare.

Baleon observed Trik as he walked into the tavern and strolled over to his table. The human seemed happy, or rather happier than usual. Baleon would have used the word "giddy" to describe the bounce in Trik's step, except that "giddy" wasn't in Baleon's vocabulary.

"You're awfully... buoyant." Baleon remarked as Trik sat down, leaning slightly across the table to examine Trik for signs of drunkenness.

"What?" said Trik defensively, pulling back. "I'm not drunk."

And he was right. Baleon heard no slur in his speech, smelled no alcohol on his breath. But there was a faint scent of what? Blood? Baleon catalogued that and put it away for later consideration. Instead he leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Mmmhm. So where are we headed next?" He asked.

Relieved to change the subject, Trik layed out another note from thorn's packet. "OK, this is a letter of invitation to meet the Baron Arkov Vandermir. Apparently he has a job for us."

And so the pair leave the tavern and travel to one of the most opulent manor houses in all of Ghastenhall. There they present their letter to the door man, who ushers them into a drawing room where after some delay they meet the esteemed Baron Vandermir. Baleon's blood rose as the baron strode into view. Wile the baron's lank black hair was clearly of human origin, is long lean frame and sharply pointed ears gave away his half elven heritage. Baleon scoffed to himself and thought for the hundredth time that the surface was indeed a strange place. In his home a half breed like this would be born into slavery at best, yet here they are raised to royalty.

Vandemir allows no time for small talk, perhaps uncomfortable having the pair in his home. "I have entered into a business arrangement with your master, Thorn. Forty years ago one of the noble families in this city was accused of being Asmodeans. They repented and were spared the pyre as little actual proof could be found against them. The current scion of said family has fallen on hard times and owes me a considerable sum. Under some...duress, he confided in me that his family had hidden many incriminating and valuable relics in the family tomb to avoid the purges. Among these are supposedly some artifacts taken from a fallen drow ally. This upstanding citizen and I have come to an arrangement. In return for wiping away his debt, he has arranged for the guards and priests normally stationed in the mausoleum to be away tonight."

Vandermir leans forward. "In this tomb you will find a sceptre - a Crook of Mitra. You will know it by the blue starburst it emits. bring me the crook, and anything else you can carry out of there is yours."

He slides across a piece of parchment upon which is scrawled the location of the family crypt. "Can you do this before the sun rises?"

On the Road

Day One

Baleon and Trik depart from Thorn’s manor on the moors at first light the next morning, riding two nondescript brown mares.  Tiadora, dressed again as the grieving widow, sees them off from the stables.  “Goodbye my dears,” she says coquettishly.  “I’d bid you safe travels, but I think that is rather unlikely, don’t you?”  She reaches up and hands Trik  the leather packet containing Thorn’s instructions and maps.  To Baleon she gives over a clay tablet inscribed with the pentacle of Asmodeus surrounded by a tangle ot thorns. 

Her fingers run playfully over the back of Baleon’s hand.  “When your mission is completed, break this seal and I will find you.”  Suddenly her playful expression drops away to be replaced by a glare of hellfire and cold iron and her delicate fingers close in a vise-like grip around the drow’s wrist.  “Fail our master, and I will still find you.”

Baleon jerks back as she releases him and the playful smile returns to he lips.  She retreats into the manor with a wave.  Trik leans over to Baleon as the two ride out onto the road.  “I don’t know about you elf, but that girl scares the piss out of me.”  He flashes a grin.  “Although, might be a good way to go eh?” 

After about half a day’s journey Baleon makes to turn inland when Trik calls out.  “Whoa, elf!  Where are you going.” 

Baleon reigns in.  “Zhaanzen-Kryr lies this way human.”

 "That may be so, but that’s not where we need to go - at least not first.  Didn’t you read Thorn’s packet?” 

Baleon hides his irritation.  All morning with nothing but a cloak to shade him from the hateful sun had left his patience thin.  He tried not to sneer as he replied.  “You mean the packet you’ve kept to yourself since we left?” 

Trik grins.  “Oh, right. Here, read this.”  He tosses the leather satchel over and Baleon snatches it out of the air, and reads the documents inside as Trik continues to talk.  “Master Thorn wants us to form an alliance with your people, but to do so he feels you need to return to them triumphant – you know, like you actually accomplished that suicide mission your loving sister sent you on.”  Trik makes an obscene gesture as he mentions Baleon’s sibling.  “In order to do that, we need to visit Thorn’s contact in the city of Ghastenhall.  Apparently he’s got information for us on where we can find one of these high and mighty drow artefacts.  Trik spurs his horse forward and calls over his shoulder.  “So, Ghastenhall first, Underdark second my taciturn friend.”

*** 

Day Two

“Hey Baleon?” 

“Yes Trik?” 

“This sister of yours… is she hot?”

“What?” 

“Well, because every elf woman I’ve ever met has been hot, and well, you could introduce us.”

 “She’d likely spit you over an open fire.”

 “Nahh, she’d be into me.”

“Why?” 

“Well, your people revere Father Asmodeus right?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m a priest of Asmodeus.  The voice of the Father made manifest and all that!  She’d totally be into me.”

Baleon shakes his head as he pictures his sister arranging Trik’s entrails into a pentagram on the family alter.

Trik, his mind wandering in a very different direction, grins and holds up his five pointed holy symbol to catch the light.  “Yeah, chicks dig pentagrams.”

***

Day Three 

Finally the pair ride into the city of Ghastenhall.  While not the biggest of the three major cities in Talingarde, It is the most metropolitan due to the sheer volume of foreign trade that comes through its sheltered port. 

 “Ah Ghastenhall,” whistles Trik as they ride through the wide gates.  “This is where me and the other White Ravens first came ashore in Taligarde.  Of course, we were being smuggled in and under aour dear Tiadora’s watchful eye the whole time so we didn’t get much sight seeing in.  Hey Baleon?  Why don’t we take in the sights while we’re here?  I’m told there are all manner of diversions in this town for those who care to look.  We can spare an afternoon before we meet our contact can’t we?”

Think of it as a student exchange...

After proving their worthiness to their new master, Cardinal Adrastus Thorn by completing the Nine Lessons,  Baleon and his comrades are  put through three months of intense  training, most of it by Thorn himself.  The training is gruelling, and Baleon is grudgingly impressed by the human's knowledge on the subtle arts of stealth and murder.

At the end of the three months  Thorn gathers all of his pupils for a celebratory feast.  He awards Baleon and his companions the title of the Ninth Knot, and the other four that trained with them the Eighth Knot.

"Welcome, my children,” he says in a deep resonant voice that has an almost inhuman quality to it. “Training is at an end. You have proven yourself worthy. Now, it is time for you to use that training and take on your first mission.

"Your mission is war, my children. You will bring war to Talingarde."He turns his gaze to Elise Zadaria, the raven haired witch who leads the Eigth Knot.  "I am setting you upon a mission of murder in the north.  You and your team will travel by land to the watch wall and there you will carry out the targetted disgrace and murder of key members of the military and nobility.  You will ensure that Taligarde is ill prepared for an invasion."

To the Ninth Knot he assigns a two part task.  First, they are to smuggle a shipment of weapons to an army of bugbears gathering north of the watch wall.  Second, they are to infiltrate the fortress of Balentyne and throw open its gates for the waiting bugbear horde.

"But not all of you will be travelling north just yet.  Baleon, step forward.  If we are to win this war we need more than just barbarous bugbears for allies.  We need to sow discord from within as well as wreaking calamity from without.  And so it is time to make use of your particular talents and for you to embrace your birthright."

Baleon shifts nervously from one foot to the other, the eyes of all seven of Thorn's other disciples upon him. 

Oblivious, or perhaps enjoying the elf's discomfort, Thorn continues.  "You came to this land at the behest of your sister, seeking an artifact from your people's past.  I tell you now that this was a ruse.  No such artifact exists in the tomb you were instructed to plunder."

Baleon is sent reeling at this revelation. "How," he manages to stutter, "how do you know this?"

Thorn smiles thinly.  "My dear disciple, you know the answer to that."  He steeples his fingers and leans forward.  "Your people long ago turned to the dark father Asmodeus, and I am his most loved  servant in all Talingarde, above and below..."

Baleon, shakes his head at the implication in Thorn's words.  Three months ago the thought of some weak willed human rising higher in the infernal hierarchy than even the lowliest drow priest of Zhaanzen-Kryr let alone even his mother, the matriarch, would have been laughable, but after witnessing Thorn's power, learning at his feet . . Baleon drops his eyes to the ground and listens intently to his new master.

"It was a quest you were never to return from Baleon; a way for your sister to rid herself of her mother's favoured son in advance of her bid for the throne.

"But such artifacts as you were sent to fetch do exist, and I will guide you to one.  So armed, you will return triumphant to you people, and secure their aid in the coming war. 

"You will not be alone on these missions.  The drow of Zhaanzen-Kryr need to see that drow and human are already united in this goal, and so you will be accompanied by Trick Rackburn from the Eighth Knot."

The room erupts in protest as Trick, his brother Trak, and their leader Elise all react to the unexpected announcement.  "You can't take my cleric away!" roars Elise.

Thorn cuts her off with a withering stare.  "I can't?"  There is ice in his voice and hellfire in his eyes and Elise immediately backs away, stammering, as a wave of almost palpable otherworldly rage washes across the room.  "I can and will use the tools at my disposal to accomplish Asmodeus's divine will and exact revenge upon this wretched island!"

He sits back down, calm and collected once more.  "Baleon, Trik," he slides a leather folio across his desk.  "This contains the location of the artifact you seek and then name of a man who can get you access.  I trust you will be able to find your way to Zhaanzen-Kryr on your own from there.  Don't tarry.  You both need to rejoin your respective knots in the north before the end of the month."

He dismisses the two with a casual wave.  "You leave before first light tomorrow. . . Tiadora, show them to the stables."