Pizazz's Myth Drannor

Toc steps forward, pulling attention to the group, and says mentally, "Mirica, you say that there is information from 'our lions' here, that Larloch is practically at the end of his ritual? I...am not aware of this. Has something been discussed without me? Remember that the Shadovar seem convinced will take several years, and that each Mythallar we take slows his progress. I've not heard anything to counter this, except for your constant insistence that we must rush to attack immediately, which seems to come at every turn.  On the matter of his army, I don't know how many Lich followers he has, but there is no basis for a belief that the three that were sent here are his greatest. His Lichs have been described as an 'army'. Despite all of that though, we know precious little about our enemy.  Perhaps it is time we visit Warlock's Crypt."   He takes a deep breath and says, "Though, to answer a few questions clearly. Yes, we know where Larloch's base is. It is a fallen Netherese city, that was created by Larloch hundreds of years ago.  It is on the coast near the Sea of Fallen stars...somewhat close to Candlekeep Library. West of the troll hills. We have not been there. We do not know what the place is like or how many enemies reside there. Perhaps it is time we find out after all. But, Mirica, I suggest a scouting mission first. And the Shadovar have already been crystal clear. In their minds, an assault of that place is out of the question until we've eroded his Lich army. I don't think some treasure' is going to entice them."

Simaal has been deep in thought, and though his connection to the Mythallar has renewed since returning from the demi-plane, he hadn't really been focussing on it.  Something there niggles him though...and after a few moments of mental exploration, he realizes....one of the beings bonded to it is no longer bonded to it. There's a 'free spot' so to speak. This likely happened a while ago, it's just now that he's noticed it. He was pretty distracted before.

Mirica's mental speech could be no less intense than when she was talking aloud.

"No, I am pretty sure you know everything. The leonin's wizard Ajani, from a far corner of the multiverse, detected the corruption emanating from our plane and going to destroy the multiverse. He sent those lions as close to the centre of the corruption as he could in the hope they can stop whoever is responsible for it. The very deed of sending them here was already quite difficult, the wizard got cut off from the group in the process. But let's start from the beginning. Fianna's visions were the thing that brought us together. Remember them? The grand game, lost pieces, the laughter of the near winner? I am here by the will of Lathander, you ... because of the calculated assessment of everything happening around? But one way or another - gods and otherwordly powers put us on that path. Later one of the fiercest dragons of our world deemed the situation so serious, that she was willing to forgive us for the slaying of her son if we are to fight Larloch. Now, shadovar - whose goals we do not know, except claiming netheresian cities for future world domination, slavery and spreading the influence of shadow realm, the shadovar, who is spying on us and use our group as the hunting dogs for mythallars to snatch them when they are found, that shadovar say that it's all fine and we can just go as we are, searching for more lost cities and not worry about that pesky Larloch."

Mirica looked at Toc very seriously. "Toc... Look me in the eye and say that you truly wholeheartedly believe that all the grand visions, god's will, the fear of the fearless dragon, and corruption spread so far that other realms can sense it - all of these is nothing but a gentle nudge of the universe, way ahead of the time the danger will strike? That we have plenty of time for enjoying ourselves, solving every local problem we come across, walking every puppy across the roads and picking old ladies from the trees? Just because lying thieving murderous slavers said so?" It was not a rhetorical question, she was waiting for an answer.

Xemnez bristled at first from Mirica's first assertions of his knowing; but, in non-typical Leonin fashion, he held his tongue and listened to the grim remainder all the same. Noteably, at the mention of 'the wrath of gods', the Leonin's hands balled up in tighter fists as he stood by that point with his arms crossed over his chest.

As it eventually dons on him that noone appeared to be at least keeping up the ruse of verbal conversing while telepathic speech, the Golden furred Leonin looks... confused and even a touched annoyed at something. Yet again, rather than vocalize anything, he'd start pacing around the room, still listening to the back and forth, but seeming distracted for a time. '... Do you think these Shadovar are then allies of this Larloch, Mirica? Or arrogant and witless fools?' He questioned, stopping his pacing to stare at the ground as if searching for something. 'I share in your desire for urgency. Truly. Especially given the... 'situation' involving Ajani. However, I see not the reason for them to lie about their assessment of timing. Though it is ever of the essence, we cannot allow misguided passion or over commitment to duty to lead us astray... I've had to learn that lesson twice now since I've accepted Ajani's call for aid. I do not wish to make it a third in a reckless attack.'

At that point, he looked over to Mirica and said aloud, "A drop in the ocean cannot turn tides. But a few fallen boulders can create decent ripples. And if set right at that, they can bolster a coastal city so better weather an incoming sea storm." He then continues mentally, 'Whether they are lieutenants or simply powerful pawns, monsters like them -- shaken though they may be by a greater power that is Larloch -- aren't want to try to acquire more in their favor. Though a longshot, wherever these falac-trees or whatever are, so could be more information on the ritual or the man power involved. Perhaps in robbing him of those three permanently at last could shake the others confidence... As for the goddess, she poses an.. interesting thorn to all of this. Which is why -- despite having been bested and disrupted for the moment -- I was not entirely eager to dismiss removing her from the board.'

Simaal speaks out, and as usual he sounds very neutral in his tone. Outloud. "The gods obviously have their own purposes and scopes and it weighs heavily on you Mirica. Would some communion with your god provide some guidance on the need to rush?" Mentally he continues "Now that we know where it is, I have that much more concern over releasing a being of great power, Candleekeep while I'd expect to be protected, would not be necessarily ready. As much as I think it's risky, perhaps near where the scroll was found we could find some means to guide if not control the beast. Especially if the guidance from the gods gives us more time. Also, as far as I can tell someone has lost or been forced to lose connection to the mythilar. Perhaps we should check with the anvil destroyers to see how they're doing, just in case they've been betrayed earlier than expected."

Nuzej jubilantly runs into the library and spends many minutes poring over books (recalling his chest and stacking within it several key tomes for himself, as well as the quicksilver), and finally sitting down to begin to attune to the staff of power. He slowly catches up to the conversation, his eidetic mind playing it back to him at top speed.

He offers, over the link, when he catches up, "it seems a foray to one of the liches' lairs would bother remove a possible ally of Larloch's as well as offer the potential to teach us more about his plans. Imagine what types of information and materiel they keep in their lairs, to be viewed once we disarm traps and defeat protectors. Given the timeframe, I would not say no to a trip to one of them. A scouting mission could be worth the massive risk."

In response to Xem's questions about the Shadovar's allegiances, Thyrius ventures a guess: "They are likely simply positioning themselves so they can vastly profit in the aftermath of Larloch's ritual. They may be betting on Larlock's failure after a long and arduous battle in which they may or may not participate. Then, immediately after the final fight when everyone is reeling and licking their wounds, they will have already claimed many Mythallars and be in a much stronger position than any survivors to implement their vision upon this world and perhaps others as well." He then lowers his shoulders: "But that is conjecture on my part."

Regarding the goat-owl, Thyrius replies to Xem's point by referring to Simaal's follow-up: "Perhaps she has already been dealt with, since we now know another has lost their connection to the nearby Mythallar."

(All comments are made mentally.)

Toc walks over and sits in one of the eight chair, casually lounging with one leg over an armrest, his back leaning against the other.  He looks....particularly awkward for someone obviously trying to look casual and comfortable. He looks thoughtful. Then says out loud. 

"I've had a brief chat with the other group. They say that, in their attempt to destroy their artifact, Auril was driven into a rage and flung everything she had at them....thus the city now teeming with icy undead monsters. They said they defeated three of her forms, and upon defeating the last, she vanished. They do not know if she was destroyed completely, but...it sounds like a reasonable guess that it was her connection to the Mythallar that was broken. This is good news. Who knows how long it will take her to reform. Perhaps a day, perhaps a ten day, perhaps a year. But, I agree, she has become the Shadovar problem if they stay here." 

"Mirica is correct. We have been manipulated from the start. Fianna was a warlock ally of ours...or...is...I assume she's still alive. Her patron had been pushing her towards this conflict. Who knows what time scales such a creature may subscribe to, but it seemed implied that the creature itself was in a chess match, likely against Larloch, and we were pieces on the board. The dragon...well....there was never such a posturing of power as I'd seen with that dragon. I think, now that I've had the time to reflect, that it struck a deal as much because it feared us as anything else. I don't think it was much aware of Larloch's plots, or driven by some need to address it immediately. Then there are the Shadovar. It's true. They spy on us, follow us, lie to us, enslave people, and stole this Mythallar out from under us as soon as they had the chance. Could they be lying to us about the timescales, in order to prepare to "clean up" after Larloch's plot completes? This is a distinct possibility. And not one we can ignore."

He pauses, with a deep breath. The star field continues to spin lazily in the air above the chamber. Though both Thryius and Xemnez seem disinclined to look too closely at it, as they had before. Toc continues....

"However I agree with Simaal, that unleashing this monstrosity that we know little about, loose on Warlock's Crypt, with the hopes that the worlds most powerful ancient being doesn't somehow wrest control of it and turn it against us is....foolish. I'll not use this power until I know much more about it, and our enemy, which will take time. And I agree with Xemnez that a full frontal assault without more information, would be foolish." 

He looks Mirica in the eyes, his grey-blue stare solid and unflinching, says mentally to everyone, "Your point about this corruption reaching the Leonin's home realm is completely valid. However, we would be rushing blind into an environment we don't know, an enemies stronghold, and still with far too little knowledge about his plots, his forces, abilities, defenses, or even really what he hopes to achieve. He has been around since these Mythallars were made. He made one himself. It is a good guess that he could create scrolls of the same power as the ones we've stumbled upon here.  He is more powerful than us, and is surrounded by forces that can match us.  All said, I think I have decided something, in my own mind. I'm tired settling with our enemies. I'm tired of meeting them half way. The Shadovar stole this Mythallar from us. My vote is go inform them that this Mythallar is ours, and to surrender their bonds or be destroyed. Once we have rid this place of them, I will contact the elves of Semberholme, and we will gate in sufficient elves to take and hold this ruin. Once done, I think we pursue Shock and or Demise and destroy them. With luck, as Nuzej suggests, we'll find out more about Larloch's plot. Once we've permanently removed them from the board, we begin scouting Warlock's crypt. It's far past the time we should have been finding out more about our enemy.  Lastly, there is a question about Thay, and our once ally Russel. But, I think this belongs in the 'puppy rescue' category, as Mirica has so eloquently defined it." 

He glances back towards the spindle room, "Lastly....this spindle. It...brought down this city. I wonder what it could do were it brought to the central Mythallar that Larloch has been working with. I think there is a very real possibility that this spindle could be the key to physically disrupting his plot. But...research is required." 

Thyrius has no answers to offer at the moment. In fact, he has exactly the opposite, that is, more questions.

To the group as a whole, as an alternative to Toc's decision on the Mythallar downstairs: "In case we do not confront the Shadovar on their claim for the whole Mythallar, do we think it is worth making a play for the vacated linkage at least? I am not saying I agree or disagree with Toc's decision here, but I do think this may be a valid alternative."

To his brother, through the mental link, but still for all to "hear": "The spot on the star map giving us this dreadful feeling... You don't think that's... home, do you?"

Toc's way of "looking in the eye" was ... odd. On the other hand, "odd" was practically Toc's middle name, and he did answer the question. "All right, I can be reasonable too." Mirica was sure it was not an exaggeration on her part. "I never said we have to go blind, just that it is time to deal with the source of the danger, rather than continue - truly blindly! - stumble around hoping to delay something we know little about. Glad we could agree on that. As for the rest..." She looked into Toc's mismatched eyes with genuine surprise. "You know my attitude towards Shadovar - they are the next world threat, maybe as big as Larloch minus physical destruction of the lands and living beings. But what happened with "the world is not ready for all-out war"? Was not that the reason we involved Harpers in the conflict? To raise the nations around the world? Yet again, handing over to Shadovar that city, full of so well preserved secrets of Netheresians, is quite dangerous. If you see a way to expel them from here, preferably without us all getting killed, for someone has to deal with Larloch, I can not object to the decision. Can you get at least some of your elves fast enough to fill the number for binding with Mythallar?"

Mirica looked at the brothers. "Whatever we decide here if there is a new binding spot, one of you has to take it. Mythallar is a great help no matter who it belongs." There was also the matter of liches. "And finally those liches. I do not believe Larloch is keeping his plans in well-written comprehensive form lying in the open in some random lich lair. No more than that this portal to the secret room of a wizard," she pointed at the constellations - to be the weapon that somehow brought down the city and can be a demise of Larloch. Still, a permanent destruction of a lich is a truly good deed and there might be a chance of learning something useful to the cause there. Whether it is worth our time we will find out in the first lich's hideout and then decide. Let it be the last delay on our way to our goal." "and destiny," added she quietly. Whether Fianna was manipulating them or not, you do not live for months under the weight of the "destiny quest" to simply discard it.

"Can we get to Mythallar room without fighting through hoards of the undead?"

Tic responds to Mirica's question by walking over to the open doors and out onto the balcony.  He glances down.  "The room is directly below us. All we need is to descend safely and we'll be at the Mythallar." 

Toc shrugs, "There are only four of them. I doubt, even with a dragon, that they could tackle the lot of us. It seems I'm also willing to bet that they'd rather give up this ruin than start a fight with us. Perhaps I'm just feeling a bit of anger at their people causing the destruction of a 2000 year old city and half of my people." He grunts then says out loud, "If we wish to simply pursue the Lich, after one of the brothers secures the Mythallar link, then I'm fine with that." 

Following-up on Mirica's point to the brothers: "If Xem says he is taking it, then that is it. If he says I should do so, I will."

If the fly spell is still active on him, Thyrius volunteers to fly out of the balcony and ascertain whether they can reach the Mythallar chamber while avoiding the undead hoard. Or, if the group is happy with Tic's answer, perhaps Thyrius can even fly each party member one by one... like an elevator.

On Toc's point: "Let us not forget the dragon-man had been observing us for some time. I doubt we'll be able to surprise their lot with our capabilities. As Mirica said, it is likely they know more about us than we are giving them credit for, which means they could have prepared specific countermeasures to deal with our group."

Xemnez seemed to almost breath a sigh of relief following Toc's speculation of Auril's lost connection. The rest, however... again, it seemed that a few concepts went over his head; such as Fianna, a name he felt he should and perhaps would remember in time, but whose connection to everything, if every spoken of before then, was lost on him. Regardless, Xemnez remained attentive even as he once again took to pacing now about the star table.

Ultimately before addressing matters, it is his brother in the mind link -- much as he was somewhat detested, if not simply grew annoyed by it -- that he replied: 'No... It is... something else. Something self-aware... Something none should look at again, and put out of their thoughts, least... whatever it is proves attracted to such attention, however nonsensical as it may seem to us, brother.' With that matter addressed, he stopped to regard the others as he spoke aloud, "What he intends -- What Larloch dabbles with would go far further than mere physical destruction. But, I understand the need to keep things... simple and easier to digest."

'As for the four--' He continues via the link. 'If they'll opt to retreat, then so be it. But swift shall need be the call of your elven allies to secure the Mythallar after which, least these Shadovar return far swifter with buffered forces to further solidify their position... assuming of course they haven't already, or yet possess a means to do so at a moment's notice. I... vaguely recall something to that effect. That Desentear fellow being the eyes of some general? It's all... muddled at this point. So much has gone on. But if confident that such is not a concern or that this line of communication can be swiftly severed, then so be it. Let us find our way down and be done with them.' 

Unfortunately, with all of the exploration, especially the digging about in books, it's been several hours up here in the tower. Long enough for the magic items to be identified, the mental link to have been renewed a couple of times by Tic, and for Nuzej to have bonded to the new powerful staff. That means the fly spell is no longer, but at the mere thought of it, Toc is casting a renewed version and a few moments later Thyrius is on his way down below the balcony. Indeed, it would seem that the field juts out regularly from the building all the way down to the ground where the milling undead creatures make a clear line along the barriers edge. Thyrius finds he's able to easily fly up and down within the field. As such, much like an 'elevator', he is able to ferry the group down to ground level quickly enough, though the flight up and down takes nearly a minute each time and so it takes several minutes to ferry the group to the ground. 

Once done though, there is still a decision to be had. 

Toc looks to Xemnez, "To be honest, it will not be quick to bring in elven forces. Not today at any rate. I'm afraid many of my spells have been drained today. And though the Shadovar do have very real eyes on this location from afar, that does not mean they are prepared to open portals to this location at a moments notice. Portals across a distance like what we speak of are powerful magic and require time. But....they could very well bring a half dozen more enemies into our midsts within seconds and...as you say, that may be sufficient. So, I think that answers our question. A lack of spells, and an enemy that could quickly reinforce..means that for the moment at least...we perhaps need to settle on their presence here. A part of me knows that is the wise choice. Another part of me remains dissatisfied at our dealings with these fiends."

Thryius had one less passenger to ferry, as with the decision made, Tic bid everyone a brief farewell and with a warping of space, returned to Myth Drannor. 

If Simaals observation of the new link being freed to the Mythallar took some time, the Shadovar either were not as attentive to their bonds, or chose not to act on it for some reason. As the group re-enters the chamber the Shadovar seemed to be camped a ways away, between two of the large pillars. They paid little to no attention to the group's arrival in the chamber. It seemed bonding it by one of the brothers would be a simple task, if either of them so chose. 

In the meantime Toc said, "We will need to remain here for another half day until my magic is renewed. Then we will need to decide if we pursue Demise in the underground complex, or Shock at the underground jungle lake. I probably do not need to remind you that I spend each morning ensuring we can all breath water, should that prove a concern."

If everyone is satisfied with the decisions made, then you have several hours to burn here in this cold place. It seems even returning to Ten Towns will not be possible until after another 16 hours have passed.  (another long rest achieved as well)

As tempting as an immediate crusade against Shadovar was, Mirica did see the danger of engagement and did not push for the action. "I would like to stop in Bryn Shander first to collect my armor, if you don't mind. Also... Toc, would that Mythallar recharge the items of someone not bound to it? I mean my rod now. Whatever lich we are choosing to pursue first, it can come in handy."

She did not say which lich she prefers (how do you choose between two absolute evils?) but asked if a magic hut can be raised here or would the group plan to rest on the open.

At the note of dejection in Toc's voice if not expression, Xemnez pats him on the shoulder and gives him an understanding look in quiet comfort. The leonin then returned to his usual quiet and somewhat stoic self for the remainder of the "trip" back down to ground level and thensome. If again prompted, be it in a word or a look to try and bond to the Mythallar, a long look is given the strange device, before Xemnez bowed his head in further thought... and shook his head. He then looked his brother and said, "This honor -- an alien even by the standards of all we faced thus far brother -- is... one I leave to you." With that, he step aside and would wordlessly position himself in such a way as to readily guard Thyrius should the Shadovar take umberage and seek to disrupt the "bonding" time.

"It feels as if it would almost be a shame to not make the most out of this breathing magic of yours. Though /that/ one might have defenses for such, I'd prefer that over the complex, if... if only in hop of the route being a less cramped." He grins at the jest.

Serving as a ferryman is a new skill for Thyrius to add to his list of odd experiences. That said, the black cat does not dislike being of service.

An honor given to Thyrius by his brother is nothing short of a command, whether the golden lion meant it that way or not. Thyrius followed any given instructions by wiser members of the group and began to bond with the Mythallar.

Thyrius trip down with his brother was the most challenging of the group. He wasn't sure how his brother achieved it, but he weighed about three times as much as anyone else, as if he were made of rock. His body was solid muscles and the whole way down was a bit of a desperate job of not letting go. 

Regardless, the group reach the bottom, enter the chamber, and then Thryius begins his bonding as instructed quietly by Toc and Simaal. It doesn't take more than a few moments for the Shadovar to react, giving Xemnez and Toc a rather pleasant show. They hop up from their spots with some quick frantic discussion, and then stride forward into the room, their eyes moving from the focus'd Thyrius to Xemnez standing guard, and the others standing ready.  Danvoleye lurks near their rear, seemingly disinterested in moving into the room. 

Dastanyar steps forward, and glances about at the faces of the group. Something he sees there though makes him hold his tongue. With a mild look of annoyance, and a subtle but deep breath, he expels the extra air and then turns and walks away. The others speak to him in hushed tones as they walk away, but his simply shakes his head and waves his hand to silence them. 

An hour later, Thyrius feels a unique bond form inside his mind. It reminds him a bit of another bond he has...but...feels much more immediate. 

Thryius is immediately aware, as if the massive sphere had delivered the information into his mind, of how the thing works. 

Thyrius: 

For the next hour and the minutes afterwards, Thyrius is completely focused on the Mythallar and the new partial control he has over it. It is all a little too much for the black cat to fully digest in such a small amount of time. The only words he shares for now are: "This power cannot come at no cost."

"They paid at the end by the total destruction of their civilization. A slow repercussion but a sure one." Mirica half smiled at Thyrius and gave him the Rod of return to restore its magical charges. "Mind putting these powers to the test?" She hoped that part could be done without the necessary consensus of all mighty eight. "Thank you, we might need it fully functional sooner than we think." She took back the rod and looked at Thyrius thoughtfully. "Do not think you have to worry about paying for the powers, but paying for the involvement - this is a different thing. Not counting the direct offence to Larloch's plans, you and Simaal now became too living obstacles on the way of Shadovar to full control over that Mythallar and the city.  Not sure what to expect first - an attempt of bribery to surrender your link to Mythallar or an assassination attempt, but expect something in this regard. Be very mindful now."

"Well? Shall we rest in a hut or simply sit around this lovely sphere?"

Less ostentatious than the glorious, extradimensional mansion, Toc is able to bring forth a small magical dome from which you can see out, but others can not see in, and the group rests near enough to the Mythallar, but safe from intrusion. An added benefit is the inside of the dome is warm.  The group shed their cold weather gear and the outer edge of the dome becomes full of heaps of heavy furs and jackets. The group looks...smaller...than they have in a while, though the environment in this small dome seems all the more friendly and intimate thanks to the closeness and lack of hoods, face coverings, and heavy gear.  It seems Toc spends much of the time studying and writing in his books. Tic of course has returned to Myth Drannor. The rest of the group is free to chat, share stories, play some games of chance, and of course cook. The golden Leonin puts his skills to the challenge...and the group of spoiled adventurers used to magical created feasts, or, before that, the genius of Chen's cooking skills, are ready to accept an entirely average meal. Instead, the Leonin is able to take spare food stuffs from everyone and turn it into a complete meal that has surprisingly bright flavors with subtle undertones that are quite delicious. Chen and Xemnez would get along very well indeed. 

(long rest)

Just under twenty hours pass in the cold dark ice cave, lit with only the haunting blue haze of the cities lights, the silence unfortunately dispelled by the constant moaning and scraping of the undead now inhabiting the ruins.  Finally Toc packs up everything. His large gilded chest vanishes as he tucks away his clothes. His cold weather boots being shoved into the chest as he once again attaches his cloak that matches Nuzej's that makes him shimmer and hop elusively. 

"Very well. First off, we all return to Myth Drannor."  He looks to Xemnez and Thyrius.  "Unfortunately the place is not....aligned...to you.  You will find much of it filled with a thick mist, you'll struggle to open doors....passageways will be clogged with webs.  I can not prevent this at this time. Best you stay within the main Mythallar chamber." 

Nodding to the group, he has everyone stand nearby, and then whispers a word of power. 

The word collapses in on itself and then with a gut wrenching shift explodes outwards. You find yourselves in a small storage room. A magical circle on the ground that is covered with ruins is glowing with blue eldritch light that slowly fades until it's nothing but an etched circle in the floor.  True to Toc's words, for Xemnez and Thryius, this room is filled with thick mist. He quickly leads them out of the storage room and into a grand domed room. In the center is another of the massive Mythallars. This room is not filled with mist. They can see another doorway on the far side with open doors leading into a mist shrouded room, and another wide hallway that leads away, though it is also shrouded in fog and filled with webs. 

The Mythallar is smaller than the one in Ythryn and spins slowly in a clockwise direction. Rather than resting on a stand, this one hovers in the air.  The room is tall and entirely enclosed with only the previously mentioned exits. At some point it looks like it may have contained windows in the upper reaches, but they are filled with rubble.  Glowing runes adorn the walls, ceiling, and floor of the chamber. What appear to be ghostly birds fly about the room, vanishing and then reappearing as they circle above the magical sphere.

Toc walks briskly away, "I have some work to do for two hours. Then we can return to Ten Towns and fetch your armor. Then we can head to the lake in the jungle. I'd suggest you kit out for the jungle ...and for underwater...."  He vanishes into the library. 

For the rest of you, its a convenient time to resupply, and you head into a room that is chalked full of equipment and supplies to go through and get ready for a trip to an underground lake in a jungle.  

(the room contains pretty much any mundane equipment from the players handbook, please list what you do to prep for the change in environments)

Two hours pass quickly here and soon enough Toc, and Tic emerge from the library.  Toc gets advice from the others on any extra equipment he should take, but otherwise seems ready to go. With the brief stop in the legendary ruins of Myth Drannor, and seeing nothing more than this room, Xemnez and Thyrius watch as yet another Mythallar is added to their list of places in this world that, for them at least, seems entirely defined by the presence of these spheres.  Tic takes ten minutes to form one of their mental links before they depart. 

Toc gathers everyone close, and then speaks another word of power. The world collapses into an infinitely small point and expands once again with more gut wrenching pulls. And the warmth that was in the dome, and then in Myth Drannor is gone as you appear in a narrow city street in Ten Towns. However. Something is different. The air is not deadly cold. It's cold, and the ground is covered in snow and ice...but...you could stand here for a few minutes without feeling like dying. Furthermore....the sky above is a dull grey and blue....not black. It is daytime. Whatever happened back in Ythryn was apparently enough to break Aurils hold on the region. Its infinite night has ended.  People walk through the streets, hoods down and face coverings off, talking and seemingly joyous just to be able to be outside without choking on the cold air. 

Mirica leads the group unerringly towards "Blackiron Blades". The group follows, the two brothers catching more than the occasional stare from passerby's.  You eventually wander into the combination smithy and general supply store. Within the store is split into two halves. A female shield dwarf mans the counter at the general store, while a male, who looks very similar and must be a brother, is working behind the counter at the smithy. Another man seems to be busy sewing leather strapping in the back. Hanging from a wooden half mannequin is a partial suit of white dragon scale armor. He stops and lays down his tools at the arrival. The heat from the smithy keeps this place feeling toasty and warm, though smelling smokey and oily.  While the dwarf is taking his apron and gloves off, Mirica looks at the gear around here and is reminded at how lack luster they are.  She looks with concern at the partial suit of armor, seeing it not especially pretty, but likely functional. Garn speaks up, "Howdy there. We're still workin on yer armor. I said a month, so still a week and a half t'ago. But its comin long nicely."  He nods towards it, seemingly proud of the work. 

Toc sighs.

Being here already, the group decides to check for Chen. You go looking and spend an hour about the place. It seems he indeed made it back, and returned the Axebeaks to their owner. But he promptly left. Toc casts a quick spell and after a few moments says, "It seems that as soon as the day broke, he knew we'd succeeded. He met a woman here who wanted to return to Waterdeep to report the change in circumstances, apparently with the wherewithal to travel via magic and left with her just this morning. He says he's enjoying the dirth of ingredients at the market and is proud of us. He...did not mention rejoining us sadly. I didn't push it. Anything else here, or are we now off to this jungle?"