Fortune’s Founders:An Eberron Tale

The gang is instantly teleported to the rolling stone door where they were initially dropped off.  Two startled Lizardfolk jump back and fall over themselves out of shock.

The group sees Tara, her left hand first three fingers are covered in amber markings that spread and depict what resembles flame and honeycomb.

her offhand bares similar marking but instead of Dragonmarks scrolling up her arm, is terrible scarring.

The two Lizardfolk get back to their feet with their spears in a defensive position and begin speaking in a language you don’t understand.

Virnen swears in Elvish and rushes to Tara's side. "Are you okay? I mean that was incredible, you just saved us all but.....your arm!"

Jax would quickly move to Tara as well.. the bloody sack still draped over his shoulder. "Most impressive. I have much to learn." He would say with a nod... the light if his s turning a pale green as the warforged seems to relax. "Do you require medical attention?" He would ask.. looking to her arm.

Tara looks pale, and glances down at her arms, slipping into whispered Draconic for a moment out of shock.

Draconic:

 She manages to regain enough of her self possession to switch back to Common. "Oh...it would appear I am no longer an impartial observer of the Prophecy," she observes weakly, swaying slightly on her feet before shaking her head to focus herself. "The shard was one of immense power, I was able to briefly harness it but it appears to have had...consequences, something we can explore at a later time." She glances at the lizardfolk pointing spears at them.

Lucky points to the silk sac that Jax is carrying.  We... killed the queen and have a... thing.  Take us to... you know, the one from before.  Yeah.  He trails off, unsure if he's being understood.

Tara turns to the lizardfolk and switches back to Draconic, also indicating the sac in Jax's hands.

Draconic:

The dragons still look confused and aggressive, still not understanding your speech.  As they see the silk sac they relax and nod.  Tapping in the stone with their spears in a rhythmic fashion it starts to roll and open the tunnel.  They take you through the dark maze of tunnels that brings chills down your spine on how it’s eerily reminiscent of the hive you just escaped.  

They bring you back to the room where you spent the night previously before hissing at you, not as a warning but just attempting to speak.  They close the door and leave you.

Tara leans against the wall as the group is left alone, looking exhausted and a bit confused as she looks down at her arms again. "Well...this is certainly something."

(Allowing somtime RP if you wish)

After what seems like 2-3 hours (short rest of you want)

Raksa comes into the room.l swiftly, “Ahh you have the sac.... but it seems I was accurate when I said it could be lethal, one less I see.  One of you will have to take that ones spot in the Karamora..... only room for one honored guest.”

Where... where did she go?  Lucky asks as he sinks shakily to the floor.  She just... I dunno.  Was it the crystal?  Some dragonhouse crap?  Yeah, probably.  They whisked her away to safety and left us poor schmucks to die for all they care.  Bloody typical.  He starts scraping the remains of the pollen from him.  I hate this stuff.  And bees.  If I never see another bee again it will be too soon.

(I've added 'bees' to Lucky's character sheet under 'Enemies')

"Dragon marks and the benefits they provide are not my area of expertise" Jax would reply as the thin metal blade slides back into his wrist. "If any of you require water for drinking or cleaning... I can provide some." The warforged would add with a nod as he drops the bloody sack on the ground and holsters his revolver. 

(Sorry forgot to mention, they took the sac). Also the idea of drinking water for all of you is unfathomably needed.  Your eyes are crusted, your joints are stiff, squeezing your hands it takes a second for your fingers to unlock.  The dryness in your mouth is making you cough.  

Water... says Lucky.  Yes, yes!!  Water!!  He starts to cough.

Jax would remove the strange looking Jug, if it can be called a jug..... from his belt.  moving aside his black leather jacket holding it out in his hand, the alchemy jug would hang from his metal finger tips by a thick leather band. The base of the jug appears to be ceramic with bands of metal with dials and thin brass pipes running to different valves. Each of pipes and valves run up the jug and attach to a flexible leather mouth piece. Jax would give one of the nobs a quick turn and look to the group. "The jug should be able to produce eight gallons of fresh water. Please drink what you need. I ask that you leave a little for me so that I may wash the dirt form my joints." He would add as he hands the magic infused item to his companions.

Lucky grabs the jug as quickly as he can and drinks and drinks.  Ah, thank you Jax.  I think you're saving my life here.  Well, I would fill my waterskin if I had one, but for some reason I wasn't expecting to need one on an airship.  Y'know.  Not in the desert or and underground hellscape.  He hands the water jug back to Jax or on to anyone else who wants some.  If there's any left at the end, he'll also ask for some to wash the pollen off.

He pulls a stone from his pocket, holds it near his mouth, and says:  This is Lucky, I'm in a terrifying hell cave of lava and lizardmen, having just helped kill a massive insect queen and tear a sac from her corpse, in order to find the doppelganger who blew up my airship.  If I don't survive this and file my full report, then tell my family I died covered in giant bee pollen.  He puts the stone away, folds his hands behind his head, lies down and stares at the ceiling.

Short rest:  6

Virnen accepts the jug and drinks cautiously from it, not wanting to take more than his share.

Tara has a few sips of water, then takes out her spellshard. "I am not quite sure what happened to Squall, it is something I will have to consult further and draw conclusions on at a later time. For now...I am going to update my notes," she says softly before closing her eyes.

Later, it's possible that those still paying attention would hear her saying something softly in Draconic.

Draconic:

Hours pass before Raksa comes back.  The silk gown has almost been sewn together.  She reports to the group.  Now which one of you will be the horned gust of the Kamora, others will attend the ceremony and feast, but only one can have the highest honor.”  She states expectantly.  

"I believe the honor should go to Tara. The proba probability of us escaping with the sack was very low until she teleported us out." The warforged would reply as he pours water over his joints.

Raksa walks over and inspects Tara As her heady eyes dart around and gauge her body. Her tongue slinking out momentarily while in thought.  “.The other one was intended....Very well.” As she claps her hands and motions to Tara.  Two lumbering guards walk in and begin to escort her out of the room.  “She will need to be fitted for the final alterations.”  She walks over to the door that still under guard on the outside.  “The Karamora will commence soon.”  With that she walks away leaving the rest of the group.

Tara: 

Being escorted by the two giant Lizardfolk, they aren’t as gentle as you’d appreciate, but they aren’t overly aggressive and harmful.  They take you down through the winding tunnels until your in a room with  tables and chairs.  On the table looks to be some sort of fruit platter of various things you have never seen before.  Next to the fruit platter is a meat platter of creature source is indistinguishable.  The meat plate is much larger as you assume the fruit was placed for you as Lizardfolk are primarily carnivorous.  

A white silk dress hangs from a line.  Lace sleeves come up to pointed shoulder pads that point outwards.  It’s a close fitting top that flows to an almost ballroom skirt.  Whatever you think of the taste of fashion, it’s admirable they were able to make this in short time.

After waiting a bit a lizard folk seamstress barges into the room and rushes you to put on the dress for the final fitting.  She manhandles you just as much as the guards did, quickly having you degown and throwing the dress over as she begins to work and make the final touches.  The last piece being a veil over your eyes.

You stand in front of a black frosted rock acting as a mirror of sorts while your things are across the room and on the table.  The seamstress is right next to you while she works and the two guards are standing by the door.  

Tara Perception check: DC 12