Despite Xem's message, Thyrius found himself wanting to dedicate his time to mostly similar activities. Perhaps the Leonins could stay together at least for the arcane shopping part of their downtime in Waterdeep. In no particular order of preference, Thyrius would like to:

1. Search/Buy Magic Item: This may be a tall order, but should Thyrius find studded leather, +3 armor or a suitably small shield, +3, he would be very interested in either or both. Instead of a brand new purchase, these could be en enhanced enchantment on the "+2" versions of these items that he already owns.
2. Reach out to Ajani via Contact Other Plane, spell he has negotiated with the Faceless One to grant him access to recently. The patron gives and it takes, as proven by their demand to reclaim some other high level spell from Thyrius (he no longer knows Negative Energy Flood). Thyrius figures he has enough time to rest away any negative side effects from casting this spell, even if he needs to cast it several times.
3. Exchange other spells: Booming Blade instead of Mind Sliver, Earthbind instead of Fly, Spirit Shroud instead of False Life.
4. Replace Invocations: Agonizing Blast instead of Relentless Hex, and Repelling Blast instead of Maddening Hex.
5. Finish pouring over the tome "Book of the Veil". His goal is to extract as much knowledge from it as possible, not only on his Patron's behalf but also in search of practical knowledge he can employ on the field.
6. Commune with his Patron with whatever time is left. He is primarily looking to better understand the Faceless One's motivations and machinations, so he can better serve his ancestor. 

(Don't want to spoil the beautiful post, so, let it be as it is (though Mirica would use all connections she had and that were acquired by the group to accelerate mass production of holy water - should not be a problem for several churches). A few barrels will be fine. Just forgot to mention, that she did find time in her overly busy schedule to collect the dragon armour. It might not be needed anymore, but it it was payed for and could be useful for someone at some point)

Toc stood over the arcane anvil, hammer in hand. His breath plumed from his mouth, the icy air filling the ancient Netheril tower ran up his back, a shiver running up his spine. A deep breath, and then he continued, the hammer clanging down on the magical sword. Nezmos lay next to it. With each strike Toc would pause, mutter an incantation, lay his hand upon Nezmos, and then bring the hammer down once again on the sword. He'd originally planned to start with Xemnez's massive two handed sword, but the way that magic flowed, it would be Nezmos that would be destroyed and fed to the blade. Toc understood Xemnez had a bond with the axe...and so the fate of the sword was sealed.  Still, everything Toc was doing was new to him, toying with these Mythallar fed artifacts as he manipulated the magic. He prayed he would not ruin Nezmos. He was unsure what impact that would have on the golden Leonin. 

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Thyrius sat in the magical circle recalling the fresh air. His minds eye took him back just a few days. The air had been cool, the sky grey. Far below the ocean waves pounded against the rocks. He'd been with Xemnez and Nuzej, and the three had turned to face the city they were standing within. The glorious architecture of Waterdeep stretched away from them as the city wound down from the cliffs to meet the sea. Above all stood waterdeep castle crouched high up on the hill watching over all.  People of all sorts rushed about in what was the largest single press of people the two Leonin's had seen. Even in many of their travels, rarely had they come upon such a metropolis as this place.  Griffon riders flew overhead, and down the harbor they looked to see a ship literally flying in from the sky, slowly drifting towards the water before making contact with a tremendous, slow motion splash, sending nearby boats rocking violently in its wake. The ship had then settled in towards the harbor.  Upon Xemnez's back was his new shield, a shield, +2 that he'd purchased for 6000 gold in the city.  Likewise, Thyrius wore a brand new set of leather armor. For almost three times as much (15,000 gold), plus his own magical armor in trade, he now wore a new, blackened set of studded leather, +3.  Missing gold had been made up for by hawking some of the items they'd found that nobody wanted. Xemnez had kept thumbing his new magical ring he'd also purchased for 4000, the Ring of Animal Influence was like an untried toy and it was clear his brother was eager to try it out.  With a last deep breath of salt air, their couple of days in this glorious city had drawn to an end.  With a nod, Nuzej had summoned a magical circle and with a steady crackle of energy had transversed the gap between there and Myth Drannor using a simple and all together stomach settling portal. 

He could still smell the tang of salt air despite having been confined to this Myth Drannor ruin for the past couple days. There had been reading, communing, relearning arcane rights.  The hours and days had begun to pass quickly, but even so the strain of being cooped up inside a glamorized cave was still getting to him. This was not the last place he wanted to see in case something went awry. There were just two things left to do, and the order was important. The first was to commune once again with the Faceless ancestor. His patron had been stealing away hours, reading the book of the veil through him. His patron had helped him form the soul tokens, one of which had seemingly been consumed.  His patron had helped him, through dream-like sessions, to reshape his knowledge and power of how to take advantage of the arcane. But before he tried to contact Ajani, his patron had let him know that, as before, he was permitted a single question be asked of the Lich soul that had been formed into a token....before his ancestor consumed what was left of it.  He was ready to ask his question. 

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A last hammer strike and the steel blade cracked. More like it just gave up, and broke...cracks appearing...and then breaking apart, until nothing was left but a series of metal shards that were rusting as he watched.  Toc muttered the last incantations, and once again moved his hand onto Nezmos. A steam seemed to rise from the broken bits of blade and flow through some unseen current, into Nezmos.  The axe glittered...its steel taking on a blue-ish tinge, and sharp grooves appeared along its edge....engravings of lightning that seemed to etch themselves into the side of the axe head.  There had been all sorts of constraints on such a process, both practical, real and theoretical, but the merging was done and precious little of the magic had been lost in the transition. Heaving a sigh of relief, Toc picked up Nezmos, and with a glitter in his eye, prepared to return to Myth Drannor, and to return Nezmos to its owner.

From the moment the group arrived in Port Nyanzaru to eventually finding their way to Wakanga's private abode, there had hardly been a second in which Xemnez was able to keep up the stoic mask without being eventually overwhelmed by feelings. Exotic scents for one left him at times enraptured, and at others clutching at an all too sensitive nose. The loud sounds irked him to the point that, if not likely for Thyrius stepping in to stop him, he might've instinctively roared in futily try and quiet things down. But then there the urchins and other pickpockets! Thankfully, he had enough sense not to bother engaging them... so long as none got brave enough to try anything with him. But nevertheless, for all the wonders he'd seen to that point, that little reminder of the 'weakness' that came with the more 'civilized' society left a bitter taste in his mouth.

For a time, at least. For the city had plenty enough other distractions to lure the mind away from the grim... not to mention Toc and/or the more sensible party members being able keep him focused on the main objective of their arrival. Though inevitable some thoughts would still drift back to a couple of tabaxi enchantress minstrels passed by earlier on...

"Hm?" Xemnez straightens up abruptly in his seat having been pulled rather suddenly from roaming thoughts. ".... Ah, I... I do not know what say. For a thank you seems hardly enough or fitting proof of graciousness for such a gift." He said, having caught up with fortunate quickness, and now seeming hesitant as he stared at the figurine. "Please. I must know if... how might I..." He trails off from there unable to find the words, and all too likely encouraged afterwards to simply accept the gift as-is. But within his heart golden furred Leonin would swear to someday repay the man, and in the meantime pointedly committed the man's face to memory. 

 Thanks to Xem's experience in Port Nyanzaru, the Leonin was at least a little more mentally prepared for Waterdeep. Emphasis on a 'little'. Unlike the port however, the Leonin was less eager to stick around in town for long, feeling as if the city was more... disconnected from the familiar than even the port. So just as soon as business had been concluded(with the sell of the lesser items included), Xemnez more than eagerly accepts the teleport back!

Thyrius consults with Mirica, explaining they can extract useful knowledge from the soul token. "One questions, one forcibly truthful answer, that is my understanding. You have deeper knowledge about Larloch and his machinations, much more then us newcomers. For trusting in my claiming of the lich's soul, I ask you: what would you have me ask the entrapped soul?"

Mirica was glad to interrupt for a moment her seemingly endless preparations (it certainly felt like this) and thought about the answer. "Assuming you can trust the answer, and considering we can not really hope to kill Larloch himself... I would very much like to know the way to stop Larloch's current plan with Mythallars. The has to be one weak point, someone or something which we can attack or remove to stop those plans from happening."

Thryrius responds: "In fact, I had consulted with Xem on the question to be asked to the first token. His suggestion was close to your own. The exact words were 'What would be the best way to hinder his master beyond simply keeping any other Mythllars beyond his reach? 'And the answer we got was 'In the depth of his soul, he (Shock) knew the way to battle his master is bolster and ally with his enemies. And attack his allies. Specifically, he felt that countering the Shadovar would be particularly effective'."

Thyrius lets that info sink in for a bit and then asks again: "With that new knowledge offered, perhaps you'd like to suggest a different second question?"

"And this is what I meant by "believing the answer". Typical mix of truths and lies. Shadovar are, not doubt, a threat to this realm. But the emphasis is on "this". They have no reason to destroy it, more like to conquor by conventional methods - armies and high magic, as their claimed predecessors did. As far as I know, they do not plan to destroy the universe. Nor did they want to surrender Mythallars they controlled to Larloch. At the same time, liches were actively hunting the mythallars and using them to feed the one that Larloch is using. So, him pointing at the allies as the weak link was the truth. But not the shadovar, the liches, which we dealt with. Pretty sure Shok hoped we will concentrate on shadovar and it will buy his master more time. But "dealing with Shadovar" requires armies, which we do not have, yet those who do have them are now aware of the threat and hopefully will do something about it. While we are the only one who knows for sure about Larloch and - also hopefully - can deal with him."

"No, my question does not change. I do not believe in hunting for every ally the Lich-god has at his disposal praying that we can kill them all in time instead of dying in the process. He has enacted some ritual that takes a long time to activate. We do not know how much time but it is limited. And where is a ritual - there is a weak point in it. A tipped-over candle in the summoning circle, an interrapted chant, a saved sacrifice - maybe not as simple as that but something along these lines. Ask about the way to interrupt the ritual, the plan that Larloch enacted but I would not hope for the straight answer."

Toc sits back, his hand on his chin and the heels of his elven boots resting on the table....his toes tapping together absently.  "I agree with Mirica's question here. Asking for more information about the specific ritual he's performing, rather than how to interrupt his general aims. Though regarding this other question you asked....you said...in the depth of his soul, Shock knew that attacking Larloch's allies would be effective, and to therefore attack the Shadovar. Either this is a blatant lie, and the information you're garnering is totally wrong...or...Shock thinks that the Shadovar are allied with Larloch." 

He glances about the room.  "The Shadovar led us to believe they were opposing Larloch.  But.. the Shadovar are descendents of Netheril. They desire to see the Netheril empire raised into glory once again. Larloch was literally a Netherese high mage. If this information is not a blatant lie, and they are allied, then we've been sorely deceived.  We must needs analyze everything they've told us that we've thought was true....including how long we have to stop the ritual....and allowing them to have partial access to Ythyrn...."

Thyrius shakes his head at Mirica: "Completely ignoring the information we got from Shock and stubbornly sticking to the previous plan of directly assaulting Larlock seems like a dangerous and brash way to go about it." The black cat was about to point out the important piece here, the implied alliance between Larloch and the Shadovar, but Toc beat him to the punch, and elaborated on it much better than Thyrius ever could. It was only now, after repeating Shock's answer aloud to Mirica, that the revelation even sparked a light in Thyrius' mind, but he was glad to get immediate validation from Toc's words.

"How about traveling back to Ythrin and claiming that Mythallar back. They wouldn't be expecting it now, would they?"

"As for the question to the second lich/token, does anyone oppose the the following wording: 'Please describe in detail the ritual Larloch is performing with the Mythallars and provide us with your best strategy for interrupting it permanently'?"

"A fine wording indeed," nodded Mirica returning to her chores.

Toc looks to Thyrius, then back to Mirica who has stubbornly returned to her reading. He puts a hand out in disbelief and then looks back and forth between the two.  He glances to the golden brother, Nuzej, and Simaal. Then he sighs and shrugs, "Sure...it seems like find wording to me as well."

Toc's pantomime was not in vane, though. "I am sorry, I thought that was your general thoughts on the matter and you were going to get through everything about shadovar yourself. I am kind of busy and Thyrius was not with us the first time we met the invaders. Was I wrong and you meant "we all have to do it right now"?"

Nuzej was content at first to ferry people around the planet with Toc. Though he was impatient to go on a dinosaur safari his remaining patience was rewarded when he is shown the t-Rex figurine. He asks to see the real version asap, and if given the chance he will examine it for his polymorph and shape change spells.

He spends time looking for spell scrolls to add to his spellbook, ideally high high level, including 9th. Especially any kind of divination spells. He liberally uses detection spells to ensure they are not spies upon.

He helps a bit with research and pores over the account of the scholar who escaped. He points out that they need an army to throw at the army in front of the towers, with the spell nets. He wonders if the nets extend into the ethereal.

He asks Mirica if she has divination tools to examine the intent or real plans of the Shadovar. It would be good to convince them to join the assault and throw their armies at Larloch’s army.

Jezun pops up from time to time and is even happier than normal. He has switched his discipline from way of the four elements to Sun Soul. It fits him marvelously. 

Thyrius waits for Toc's answer to Mirica's latest comments with bated breath. That said, should he hear no other edits to his proposed draft question, he'll thank everyone for their input and then find a secluded spot and commune with his patron.

A gentle wind sent ripples lapping across the surface of the lake and splashing gently up onto the rocky shore. The blue and grey sky above reflected off the lakes textured surface in a hazy indistinct replica of the heavens. The towering trees stretched around the small lake, looking down upon the open space with greed, their long branches reaching out over the waters edge grasping at the sunlight..their roots arching out and diving into the damp muddy shore. The birds chirped and tweeted quietly in the background. Simaal smiled. This place was idyllic. Beside him, the slim Dryad stood with her eyes gazing out at the water, taking deep relaxed breaths. She reached out and squeezed Simaals wrist before turning her attention back to a particularly small tree near the waters edge that was fighting for earth and sun. She brushed at its bark and leaves gently.  "This is....a place of my greatest dreams. The cold and dark of my grove, even now, is like a massive icicle within my soul...but for the first time I sense a warm breeze there, and perhaps, in time, that ice may begin to thaw. Thank you Simaal. This...this gift...you have saved all that I am. You and all your kin shall be welcome here for all time that this grove is under our watch." 

Simaal blinked and the vision vanished from his eyes. The memory was still there, but it had been over a week since he'd left Hathowyn to settle in her new home. The sweetness and purity of those moments still hung in his heart...confusing him almost with the strength of their presence.  He glanced around the room.  Nuzej stood to one side, leaning up against a cabinet and flipping through a book that rested on top. Tic sat between two extensive piles of books with one open in his hands as he scanned the room surreptitiously. Thyrius stood nearby, his arms crossed, his black mane swaying slightly as he frowned at the table. His golden brother stood behind a ways, a frown pressed deeply across his face.  Mirica sat at the table, her book half propped open, staring intently at Toc who sat with his feet up on a nearby desk.  Toc dropped his feet and glances to Nuzej with a waspish look, then at Mirica and Thyrius. 

Toc drops his feet to the ground, and stands up, and begins pacing, "Nuzej, the Shadovar will not join us on our attack if they are the Lichs allies. Indeed, if they are aligned with Larloch, they may come to his aid.  And Mirica, I've never told anyone what to do here. I'm not about to start. But surely realization that the Shadovar, who we thought were at least convenient allies, are in fact betraying us, affects everyone here, not just me. Or maybe it doesn't matter. In your mind perhaps you plan to go to Warlock's Crypt, and all other matters are insignificant. The Shadovar, Liche's. Let us see what Thyrius' question comes to, and then we can decide if we just strike for the heart of the matter, or continue eating away at the edges." 

Mirica patiently listened to that sudden outburst and calmly commented. "Toc, I hate to point it out, but you were the only one who saw shadovar as allies. So much so, that seriously suggested inviting them here. They were spying on us and using us from the very beginning. The only thing we counted on was their greed for the "inheritance", that they will not share with anyone including Larloch, and their potential wish to live, hence, unwillingness to destroy the universe. And, yes, I do think it is time to get straight to the Warlock's Crypt. A small group has a chance in a stealth "destroy-the-ritual" operation but is physically incapable to stop the army - shadovar and their dragons." She sighed. "I am repeating myself. Indeed, let us wait for the answer from Thyrius and then decide." With that, she returned to her book.

Thryius waits for a moment, and then nods to those at the table, then to his brother, and walks out of the library.  He sits down along the edge of the huge circular room holding the Mythallar.  His thoughts are all a muddle, so he takes a moment to calm himself, and then closes his eyes. The shift of his soul to the edge of the spirit realm occurs with ease. He hangs in a dark place, lit by an ambient light and filled with swirling dark clouds. His minds eye sees a dark shadow moving about the darkness just on the edge of his perception. He feels the cold comfort of his Patrons presence. 

The voice of his patron comes to his mind, thick and scratchy like an old burlap rag, "The book of the dead has been most enlightening. The ages of Necromantic knowledge drawn from the Nether scrolls is potent. These Lich beings souls have also been most informative. You are here to ask your question I sense. Yes....tell me." 

Thyrius lets the question trickle through his thoughts so he's sure of the wording, and then 'out loud' says, "Please describe in detail the ritual Larloch is performing with the Mythallars and provide us with your best strategy for interrupting it permanently." 

The spirit responds, "The persistence and perseverance demonstrated by your brother are what have made you both formidable Leonins. Your ancestors are proud."  

His presence is gone and Thyrius gets the feeling he is meant to wait...and so he does. The chill mist swirling about him, numbing his warm skin. Time slowly slips by. Eventually though, his Patron's presence is once again felt. 

"Ruin's soul is ancient, bending it to my will is like trying to bend a stone without cracking it. I fear what I have wrought from his knowledge is less than what you seek, but it is what it is. The ritual is beyond Ruin. But he knows parts. First, a gate spell must be created, and then maintained between Mythallar chambers. This gate spell would be too difficult to make permanent, so a Lich is assigned a ritual to keep each gateway open. They perform this ritual 24/7. If this ritual or gateway is interrupted, the link between Mythallars is broken. Once a gateway is in place, Larloch himself performs some ritual that links the two Mythallars. From there, Ruin understands that there are special obelisks of power that were built into every Enclave of the Netheril empire. These obelisks were of the highest order magic and tied in the 9th school of magic. Chronomancy. Manipulation of space and time. These obelisks can be accessed through the Mythallars. Ruin believes that once Larloch has enough Mythallar's linked, the Lich intends to simultaneously activate the obelisks. Once activated, the result is not known to the Ruin's soul, but....Larloch promised a new golden age will emerge. It is surprising that Larloch has not been crushed under the weight of his own hubris. Gods do not tempt to manipulate reality or time in such ways. And by binding these Mythallars together, he forms something greater....a fact I do not think he truly appreciates. For all his age, wisdom and might, he is manipulating powers he can not control.  That is what has drawn Ajani and your brothers here. The merger of these artifacts is bending space and time. Tainting all magic, threatening to tear the fabric of magic and reality asunder across all of reality. Ajani's mission is true. Larloch must be stopped." 

Simaal seemed far happier after he was provided enough help to move the dryad to the top world. While the others were looking at saving the world and this was such a minor thing in the greater scope, he believed it was the right thing to do, and hoped no harm would come to anyone, be the dryad or the her neighbors. Without any real knowledge of everything that was happening, and without a patron, spirit, god, or otherwise to answer his questions, he listened to those who spoke. He already knew who would not be moved from their focus, who knows more than they say, and who were the wildcards. His thoughts went to his friends lost somewhere beyond, but at this time he wasn't sure how to reach to them.

His mind goes back to his recent expedition into the lizard city. He was entranced by the new city, seemingly trying to both absorb everything in the city, much like he's done in the few villages he's been with the group, but at same time careful to not let a part of him become a morsel to the many lizards of that city. He browsed along with the others looking for better equipment, but did not seem to have the luck of others. Still he enjoyed it nonetheless. He asked about the safe areas near this mythilar and wandered about looking around and only touched items that he was told he was allowed to. "I simply do not know enough to comment of the shadowvar, there are so many groups that want things, there are abound to those that want similar things as well, the difficult part is knowing who is doing what and why." was his only mention of the whole conundrum.

Except later he muses quietly, but loud enough to be heard by the group while all having a meal. "In a land far far away, and a long time ago there was an emperor who sought a child to carry on his kingdom, and try as he might and no matter how many women, it was simply not meant to be. Of course he was also a tyrant, and so naturally his wives did not die of old age. His ruthlessness was enough so to be called the ogre king even though he was more human than most of us. Of course the populace would only say that in whispered conversation for he had an army at his side that was strangely loyal. Rumor had it he made a pact with a foreign kingdom and they were mercenaries, though one would say they were giving mercenaries a bad name with their loyalty.

Nonetheless one of his ex wives had a child prior and unknown to the king. And as many tales go he grew up hating the king with more enthusiasm at doing something about it. On one of his unfortunate adventures into the lair of a local and oppressed mage, his luck turned for the better. The mage learned about the young man and his hatred, so he decided to use it. He told the man that the well protected king performed a yearly ritual to maintain control over his soldiers. The one time in the year where he would be alone and separated from anyone except his royal mage who assisted in the ritual. Well that and the 12 unwilling sacrifices. He told the man he would need to train more for the next few months until the next ritual. Months passed quickly the man boy was more man than boy. His hatred only grew, but now he also had more skill at killing. The mage told the man the day was coming where he would have his chance at slaying his most hated nemesis. He would create a gate and connect it to the ritual gate the king would create which would enable the vengeful man to jump through in the king's ritual chamber."

He pauses for a bit... "The story unfortunately ends there, a too drunk and jealous man decided a barstool was best used to knock out the amorous storyteller who attracted said drunk man's woman. Even more unfortunately the harper died later, and so the full story may be forgotten to time."

Thyrius returns to the chamber, sharing the response he got verbatim. Once he gets to the part where he mentions Ajani's name, Thyrius looks at his brother. After a moment to let the message sink in, he tells Xem: "The Faceless One granted me a way to attempt inter-planar communication. It is a hard trick to pull, but I could try to reach out to Ajani. What message and/or question do you have for him?"

Thyrius turns to the others and explains what he knows of this new spell he may be casting soon. If he would know that there is a chance he'll go temporarily insane, he would ask the others if they can somehow boost his mental defenses against such occurrence. If he wouldn't know that, then he makes no such request. Either way, he reiterates that the answers they will get to each of their five questions are no longer than a mere word, so phrasing will be important.