Korba takes the berry, pops it in his mouth, and says, "huh... Mountain berry... nice. Thank you. My blade is... not happy to be controlled by me lest I give it some of my blood first. Though the wounds heal quickly, that does not mean it does not hurt each time I bring it out for use."

Then, to the general plan of action says, "It seems that our work in helping deal with the shards of soul will be enough for the good li... Lord Akkron. I only hope that they do not send their full forces at our group. Should we fail, only one shard, the one here, would remain. Though, let me ask, does each shard they collect help to strengthen the power of the cult in some way? Or is it necessary for them to collect all seven? Regardless, I will do what I can to remove the soul from my blade, if only for selfish reasons, but if we can ensure that this power does not again come to our plane all the better. And, yes, the more help we have the better. Who are these other warriors? What is their reason for helping in this endeavor?"

The Baron is an unlucky individual who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, the lich says in answer to Hewelathan. You see, beneath the Baron's territory lies Sserah's lair... the Cult had hoped to 'reclaim' the region which they believed to be 'rightfully' Sserah's. While the conquest would mostly be a symbolic gesture... there are still likely dangerous secrets and artifacts within the Dragon Lord's lair that could make the cult even more dangerous than they already are.

To Korba, he says Fortunately, the individual shards cannot strengthen the cult in any particular way. Firion will need to reclaim all seven in order to bring Sserah back into our world. As for those who will join you... I think that their stories are their own to tell. But suffice it to say that all have good reasons to prevent Sserah's return. I can send for them now if you wish to speak with them.

Quote from Mister_Whisker >>

I can send for them now if you wish to speak with them.

Xanrym thinks for a moment.  He still has many questions, but if new individuals will be traveling with them as they continue their efforts to deal with these curses and to help with the struggle against Firion and the Cult of the Dragon, he thinks that it would be better to meet the new individuals first.  That way, the whole group will hear any other new information at the same time.  He says, "Yes, I think that would be best.  If you already have some individuals in mind, please send for them so that we may meet them and give them a chance to ask questions too.  As I said, even if they do not carry one of the shards of Sserrah's soul, just traveling with us will put them in great danger.  Let's see who these brave souls are!"

Jodie, now quite adept at fading into the background, emerges once again to interject some ideas.

"Now that I know Smiler's real story and name, it makes for a tragic tale.  My companions have yet to deal with Zenxeral, as he was once named.  I wonder, when the time comes to use the wish how best to undo the ill that his befallen him.  A part of Ssresh's soul is bound in a soul coin.  Is the 'curse' that binding or enchantment that binds Zenxeral to the harp?"

The red-haired bard looks about with the mention of additional allies and then shouts boisterously, "Band tryouts!  Oh, I do hope there's arcane casters.  I find their magic SO exciting..."  Jodie smiles and looks for some sign of enthusiasm from her companions, but is once again sobered by the mood of their plight and apocalyptic Dragon Cults. 🫤  

While waiting, Jodie considers other allies.  "I wonder if Shri would be interested in accompanying us.  After all, she came from the Underdark and a drider is acclimated to the passage.  Perhaps in this deed, she can further repay her debt and find some redemption in those willing to give her a chance..."

Lord Akkron beckons to one of the guards (there are now quite a few in the temple after the cultist was exposed). He gives the guard three names, and the guard nods.

"I will fetch them at once, My Lord," the guard says, bowing to the lich before leaving to find the people whom the lich mentioned.

I do not know for sure if Zenxeral can be saved anymore, Akkron says to Jodie. But... getting that shard of Sserah's soul out of his grasp might do him some good.

(The guard returns with Hildegard, Nickeline, and Tamphalic after about 20 minutes. And now, the new players are free to introduce their characters!)

Quote from Faux_Beau >>

While waiting, Jodie considers other allies.  "I wonder if Shri would be interested in accompanying us.  After all, she came from the Underdark and a drider is acclimated to the passage.  Perhaps in this deed, she can further repay her debt and find some redemption in those willing to give her a chance..."

Hewelathan looks doubtful.  "I don't know, Jodie," he says. "Shri does not seem to have embraced her good fortune at being spared and given an opportunity to make a life in this community.  I hope that she would help us and find redemption that way, but I got the sense that she might just betray us to the Drow if it would redeem her in the eyes of her people and the Demon Queen of Spiders."

It doesn't take the guards too long to find the first of the suppliants that Lord Akkron had mentioned. She was, in fact, sequestered away in a corner of the temple library, seated cross-legged on the floor under the towering shelves, pouring over a book bound in questionable leather with the scrawling title of Bestiary of the Nine Hells embossed onto the spine. The scuffle with the guards and the hidden cultist had barely registered, a quick look up past the shelves and a hand to her sword hilt sufficient of her attention before she made the judgment that whatever had happened, it had been swiftly dealt with.

But she gets up as the guard summons her, and she sets the book back on its place in the shelf, dusting her skirts with her hands as she follows the guard. Here is a woman somewhere between young and middle aged, dressed in a hooded white habit with a black scapular overneath it that looks more like a tabard, bound at the side with straps, and split in the front and back like a riding tunic. On its chest is embroidered a ring of seven stars. The white cowl of the habit is pulled over her head, with a chainmail gorget and helm underneath, and over the habit but under the black tabard glimpses of a chainmail tunic can be seen, girded overall with a sturdy leather belt and swordhilt. She wears well-broken riding boots, and attached to the heels are a gleaming set of spurs that, although not being particularly oversized, ornamented or otherwise ostentatious, seem to stand out more than a set of spurs should.

"Lord Akkron," she says, a mirroring sadness coming across her face as she looks up at the withered lich. "How may I serve you?" Though she glances around the group of visitors, it seems to take her a little too long to become aware of them, or perhaps to remember her manners, but her hesitation evaporates a moment later, and she bows reverently to them.

The guard finds Nickeline in the temple library completely engrossed in a book of elven jewelry designs. Looking up at the guard who has just told her she will be meeting Lord Akkron promptly, she says, "Right here, right now? That's not a very funny joke." She learns that it was not a joke at all when she turns the corner to see the skeletal form of Lord Akkron, who seems to be holding court with several impressive-looking adventurers. 'I can't back out now; he's a hero and I came all this way to ask his help. Who cares if he has transformed into a being of pure evil?' Nickeline heartens herself as she approaches. It's one thing to hear that there is a benevolent lich who can solve all your problems, another to meet him. 'Master of Metal, please give me strength.'

The party would see a gnome, three feet four inches tall with blonde hair, wearing shiny, orange-tinted scale mail, currently grimacing in fear. A steel mace and a shield emblazoned with a flaming hammer are strapped to her backpack; she hasn't dared part with either item since arriving on this undead-infested island. Her right hand shakes slightly as she firmly grasps a holy amulet.

She bows, steels herself, and says, "Lord Akkron, I am Nickeline of the clan Silversparkle, priestess of Flandal Steelskin. It is an honor to meet you at last, and your associates." She nods to the party members.

Thamphalic could be found in the library as well. He was seated at a table reading into dragon tales of the Shaded isle and had more books informing about dragons laying around him. The chairs next to him were moved away as if he didn't want anyone to sit close to him, to see what he was reading. As the guards come asking to join in a meeting with lord Akkron he stands up asking if he can leave the books like this?

Into the hall walks a 6'7'' blue dragonborn wearing green robes. On his chest he has a blue amulet in the shapes of dragon wings hanging on a necklace and his face, hmm, something weird it looks more dragon like than you normally see with dragonborn.

"Greetings Lord Akkron, and others, my name is Thamphalic Aliprax and you send for me I hear?" 

Greetings, Lord Akkron says to the newcomers. Please, sit... we have an important problem on our hands. I am sure that all of you are painfully familiar with Firion and the Order of the Dragon by now... I do apologize that I wasn't able to see you immediately. I know why you are here, and I do intend to lend my aid... but I will need yours in turn.

He turns back to the 'original' party briefly.

The three now before you arrived on my island a few days ago. They to are here because they have had to contend with Firion's madness, even though they do not hold the pieces of Sserah's soul.

Hewelathan gives each of the newcomers a long, appraising look, but he smiles and greets each one in turn and introduces himself.  His face looks like a young human at first, barely in his twenties, but the slight build, high check bones, and almond-shaped eyes make you think half-elf.  It's hard to tell for sure since his messy dark hair spills to his shoulders and covers his ears.  Hewelathan's appearance is striking mostly because his outfit seems to have been haphazardly assembled.  While he wears a dark cloak of fine material, the most striking things about his outfit are his belt and his armor's breastplate.  The belt is unusually wide with a big, gaudy clasp and an ornate but outlandish design.  That would draw the eye except that it's just below his breastplate, which is a bright red-orange curved rectangle strapped on top of a padded gambeson.  The garish breastplate appears to be some sort of shell.  (In fact, it was cut from a giant crab's shell).  The rest of his gear appears quite common, plain, and even a bit shabby.

As the group around Lord Akkron expands, Hewelathan moves his bulging backpack, a sack full of provisions, a wooden shield, a spear, and some cases of javelins and darts around to make more room for everyone.  Although he stands barely 5' tall with a slight build, the way his easily lifts the backpack and sack seem somehow incongruous.  It's like they weigh barely anything at all despite the contents straining at the straps.

The woman in monastic habit and armor watches Lord Akkron as he speaks, that same serene sadness sitting on her brow. "What aid I can grant, is at your service, Lord Akkron." She quietly and obediently seats herself next to the others as he bids, and, as if rousing herself from a reverie, turns to smile at them, each in turn, including the two that were summoned with her. As she does so, the sadness vanishes from her face. "May the Divine Light be with you in these dark times... it is an honor to make your acquaintance. My name is Hildegard Deepwalker, and I am the resident paladin of the Order of the Seven Stars." A question glints in her eyes, and some of the sadness on her face returns, seeming not to be able to be kept away for long. "I presume that our meeting is part of the answer to the long-held prayer of so many, to undo the damage done by the Cult of the Dragon."

A half-elven woman dressed like a performer steps up to greet the three newcomers.  An elven shirt reveals however the maiden is more formidable.  Fine bracers adorn her forearms; she is armed with a longbow and two scimitars on her hips.  She bears a lute of exquisite make and a certain presence the red-haired maiden holds when her hand brushes close to the strings.  An air of anticipation seems to draw other sounds away, tension building...and Jodie quickly breaks the silence with a magically-amplified intro  

Well we're heading to find a lucky blade, in the cold dark Underland.
Three wishes to make your lucky day, pried from a dead drow hand.
Well we're heading to find a lucky sword, in the cold dark Underland.
I'll find my way in the darkness, might even raze a little band.
'Cuz I'm the Feywild Child, bards know I'm a Feywild Child...

Jodie loses herself in the music and moment, closing her eyes and swaying as the melodies fill the chamber as she hopes to impress Lord Akkron with a performance he's not likely seen since life (25).  She opens her eyes and then cuts it short, "Sorry. I get a little carried away.  The name is Jodie.  When I'm not trying to tame this instrument, I'm learning the art of sword and bow.  We are sure glad for the extra help, the rest of our group had to part ways."  Jodie smiles broadly and tries to ascertain how serious her new companions are and their interest in music. 

Thamphalic acknowledges the greetings with a nod, before looking at Lord Akkron.

"I have been looking into the cult indeed, but what do you mean with Firion's madness? I don't think I've met or seen this Firion?"

As expected, it's hard to gauge Lord Akkron's feelings from the skeletal face, but he does seem pleased with Jodie's performance.

The Bard summed up what is happening quite well, he says approvingly. These three have a difficult and dangerous task ahead of them... one which they cannot accomplish alone. Each has had the misfortune of coming into possession of a piece of Sserah's soul... and to rid both themselves and this world of those shards, I have given them the task of recovering a luck blade from an abandoned city in the Underdark. I feel that you would be well-suited to help them in this endeavor.

He pauses, seemingly slightly surprised that Thamphalic doesn't know of Firion yet.

Firion is the man behind the Cult of the Dragon. If you have not met him yet, then pray to whatever gods you believe in that it stays that way. He is a powerful wizard... but his genius has been twisted into madness, both by his own ambition and perhaps by the shard of Sserah's soul that he has in his grasp. Let me make this clear: whatever you do, NEVER make the mistake of underestimating him.

(Jodie, with that excellent performance you may well be able to get some additional favor)

Korba Muriz, a drow half-elf, who most without close familiarity with half-elves would mistake for a full drow, stands in his half-plate armor, though no weapon other than a small dagger and whip can be seen on his waist. His arms and legs are covered in a very loose fitting material allowing him to move freely, and his eyes are hidden behind dark lenses. He introduces himself to the newcomers, and nods specifically to Hildegard as a greeting from one 'divine' warrior to another.

Now that the whole group has assembled, Hewelathan says, "We captured a couple of the cult's dragonnel mounts.  I had hoped to spend some time with them and train them to accept some of us as riders.  If we're sailing back across the sea somewhere, then perhaps I'll have time.  Or if we'll be making preparations here in town before we head into the Underdark.  But it occurs to me, based on the island's history and what Shri said, that there must be a way to get to the Underdark somewhere nearby...on the island.  Is that true?  How did you expect for us to get to the Underdark from here?"

And thinking beyond 'entering' Underdark, Hewelathan says, "And, more importantly, once we head underground, how will we find the abandoned city of the Drow with Talice's tomb?"  He had imagined the Underdark as just twisting and branching tunnels, like a vast system of caves that stretched for miles and miles.  But now he looks to Korba and Nickeline, wondering whether the denizens of the Underdark have their own landmarks and "roads" just like the surface dwellers. 

Hildegard greets each of the three in turn, and with a little appraisal of their widely varied physiology, it strikes her that they're all half-elves, the otherworldly grace of elven kind mixed with the pluck and solidity of humans. The wild-looking young man far too strong for his tiny size, the dark-skinned warrior in the dark lenses (of drow parentage, no doubt), and the glamorous red-haired woman holding in her hands a lute that strikes the soul just at the glance. But Hildegard hardly has time to make her greeting before the bard gracefully launches into song. The performance is incredible, and Hildegard finds herself riveted. It reminds her of the way the enchanted forest always calls out to the monks at her monastery, calls out to her too, in sweet song singing praises to the Divine order that breathed life into it so long ago. A forest now so desecrated by---oh, the sadness is never far away.

A Feywild Child... and this one must be of Eladrin parentage... or...? Hildegard finds her gaze drawn back to the lute. There is another mystery here. The paladin suspects there are many more mysteries that she has not even become aware of.

As Lord Akkron speaks, the start of an answer settles in her mind. She gasps, almost inaudibly, at the mention of shards of Sserah's soul. And standing, almost seeming alarmed in her sudden readiness, bows to Lord Akkron. Though she sees before her now the skeletal visage, the tales which have been told to her and have for years formed the subject of her meditations seem almost to overshine his tragic countenance. "Hero of the ages," she says, "may the Light bless you for your millenia-long war against this scourge. Though I am only young and ignorant, I vowed to join this war. Why, I thought the magic of contemplation and study would be my part in it, but fate has ordained otherwise for me, and I will gratefully assist in this task. And, perhaps, by weakening Sserah's influence further, Parthena may be freed."

Hildegard turns to Hewelathan, listening as he speaks. The Underdark. That is a realm about which I know little. She tries to recall what she may have read in her studies, and if she has ever heard of Talice.

History: 14

(I would say that for a member of a monastic order dedicated to chronicling the lives of the Seven Heroes no roll is even required for that...)

Hildegard has indeed heard of Talice... the one known as The Betrayor. The one who was directly responsible for the destruction of Matic Akkron's home and family, the one who bore his child and then sacrificed the girl to Lolth. It is said that Talice was perhaps the best student of Lolth's vile ways, and that she betrayed everyone who ever put their trust in her... she even had the gall to double-cross Sserah once. For her numerous acts of treachery, she was barred from the the afterlife and damned to rot forever in her own corpse. Some claim that Lord Akkron was the one who did this to her, though others say that the gods themselves were responsible for her well-earned punishment.

Thampalic looks a bit disappointed when it is said that a powerful wizard is behind the cult. I thought a dragon would be their leader, and maybe one that could lift my curse
he thinks before asking Lord Akkron

"Hmm I didn't know that yet indeed, thank you for the warning I will keep that in mind. Now regarding the Underdark, they were a topic in my studies and I have learned how to speak Undercommon which might come in use, but most of my studies, and knowledge is regarding dragons not the Underdark perse. Why do you think I would be well-suited to help in their endeavours?" 

before he turns to the others 

"I'm not saying no perse, the Underdark were an interesting topic. They can, however, be a dangerous place; so before I say I will join I'd like to know a bit more of the why and the why me."

As he says this a cat walks into the hall towards Thamphalic

"Ah there you are whiskers, had a good little hunt?"

Just hunted some mice towards their hole, that was all, bit boring  Whiskers says back telephaticly.