For most sane namegivers, a trek in to the Central Twilight Peaks would be considered a very long and uncomfortable to commit suicide. These people will never be remembered in song and legend.

Sabatuu approached the liferock. Behind him, Rezarion, Shal'hari, and Ugfin stood a few paces behind. The life rock reached to the sky like a jagged obsidian blade. Appropriate since the liferock sat on the side of SkyToucher Mountain, in the heart of the Twilight peaks, the tallest mountian in a range of massive, forbidding peaks.
The BlackHeart life rock, the stone of Sabatuu's birth, is every bit as menacing as it's name makes it out to be. The half dozen black as night obsidimen forming a half circle around them woudl strike terror into the hearts of most namegivers. Those that knew that half of them were nethermancers might simply give up the ghost then and there.

Of course, these are not , by any stretch of the imagination, normal Name Givers. The windling nethermancer perched on her zoak, watching the proceedings, while the massive human that many joked thought he was a troll (far behind his back) watched stoicly. Rezarion sadly had a hard time concentrating at first, as he thought of all the ways he could tell the tale to make a woman's heart melt at his bravery.

The liferock's face slowly shifted, until the form of a powerfully built black obsidiman stepped out of it's jagged surface. His craggy features gave him the appearance of age. An impression his eyes more than matched. It was common knowledge that the rock men could live almost a millenia. One of this obsidiman's age would have been alive long before the Scourge. He was the Edler of the Blackheart Liferock. It was his summons that brought them here.

He spoke slowly. His voice gave the impression of a very old rock slowly being rolled over smaller ones.

Sabattu, you have come. There is much that you and your companions must do. We have heard tale and read scrip of dwarves which speaks of a terrible evil loose on these lands.

The tales the young dwarves speak is of the Chamber of Ages, and our Dark Brother imprisoned there. Treasure seeking adepts may have freed him upon the world. We must know the truth of this. As Purifier, you must seek out the Chamber of Ages, and find the truth in this. If the Dark Brother is loosed upon Barsiave, he must be destroyed once and for all.

Sabattu, we must know if he has taken the Tablets.

The Elder grows quiet.

The Dark Brother is mentioned and a visible twinge of pain etches itself on Sabatuu's face. He knew that the summons to his Liferock was important yet he knew not that it was dire. Looking upon his Elder with more contemplation and concern that any of the others has ever seen, Sabatuu nods solemnly and turns to his companions.

"If what is told by the Dwarves is true, then we have never seen the likes of what we may be facing. If the Guardian was freed from the Chamber then we urgent business to attend. I offer any of you the protection of my Liferock should you choose not to come, and none will look down upon you for your choice. The Company of the Unnamed has found its most defining moment yet."

Sabatuu looks intently upon each of his companions, waiting with the patience that is known of all Obsidiman, yet there is a slight change to the pitch of his voice; a bit lower and a bit more deliberate.

Shal'hari takes a moment to look around the gathering... then urges her Zoak forward slightly. When she speaks, she does so in Common.
Sabatuu, while the others here may understand the Obsidiman tongue, I do not. Perhaps, if you would be so kind as to translate... ? What is this Chamber and Guardian you speak of?

Instead it is the Elder that steps forward. He speaks again, this time in dwarven.

You have my apologies Shal'hari of Clan Lisvara. It was not my intent to slight. It has been many centuries since I have heard the dwarf tongue spoken in these haloed mountains.

The danger Sabattu speaks of is an ancient one. A Dark and long lost son of our Brotherhood, Corrupted by his thirst for power and self agrandizement. We do not speak the name of this Dark Brother, for names have power.

A tale told to the dwarves of Thrraol by a treasure seeking adept tells of NameGiver's seeking out the Chamber of the Ages, a sacred place to our people. It was also the prison of the Dark Brother. This tale says that he has been freed. If it is true, he is a great danger to our Brotherhood, and all the obsidimen of Barsaive. Like many of our Brotherhood, he is a nethermancer of tremedous power. He knows the art of Pattern Magic, that connects all of us to the BlackHeart LifeRock. He has the power to affect us all, and through us, others of our kind.

The truth of this must be known . If he is indeed free, then he must be destroyed. Know that our Brotherhood does not destroy even one so twisted lightly. He is still our brother. But he must be stopped. He has lain imprisoned these past 600 years. For him to be free now ... it is a terrible thing.

Rezarion sat astride his faithful steed, Samson, in much the way you might expect a peacock to if they could sit so gallantly atop a horse. He appeared to be a touch annoyed at his predictament, however. Not because of the long, hard ride. No, nothing as trivial as that, my friends, not for a man who's traveled as far and as wide he has. No, Rezarion was annoyed because despite several attempts to adjust his wide-brimmed hat, the sun insisted on shining directly into his eyes at this high of an altitude. It was quite unacceptable! Yet, alas, there wasn't much he could do at present so he endured... but not without a bit of a pout sneaking onto his expression.

Upon reaching the apex of their journey, Rezarion tilted his head then cocked a brow as the elder obsidimen emerged from its liferock. Normally, this would have been a slightly startling experience to behold but, as previously stated, Rezarion was a well-traveled man. Well, that and Sabatuu had mentioned it would happen upon their arrival.

The dashing, debonair swordsman tried his best to listen as the elder spoke, but all he could make out was the distant sound of an avalanche approaching. It only took him a moment longer to realize that was the elder speaking. Leaning towards Shal'hair, Rezarion was just about to quietly ask her if she had any idea what he was saying when the ghoulish little sprite scooted forward and boldly answered his question before he even had the chance to ask. "Yes, well, that answers that," he reasoned to himself.

Rez brought himself back to full swashbuckler posture as the elder approached. Relieved that he was now speaking in Throalic (and doubling as an absolutely fantastic screen from that blasted sun), Rezarion listened intently. Under most circumstances he would have been the first to throw his sword in for such a noble quest, but he was interested in hearing what his fellows at arms had to say on the subject first. Besides, his throat was terribly parched and he needed a few moments to whet his voice back into shape. He certainly can't have such an important dignitary hearing him squeek! That simply wouldn't do!

The big warrior stood tall and straight, his face stern and attentive as Ugfin listens to the rock man's speech. The leopard's head hood of his hide armor hangs down his back, his bald head gleaming in the bright sunlight. Ugfin struggles not to squint, to maintain his self-imposed stoic expression in respect for the apparent ritualistic atmosphere of the meeting.

He normally leaves whatever political and philosophical aspects there were of the group's adventures for the others to worry over. He prefers not to complicate matters, to just take things a day at a time, and face things as they come. He fights when it was necessary, and fights well at that. But normally things were quite clear when it came to battle, his opponents either those of necessity or serving an opposing interest.

This was different! This boiled down to an assassination, and Ugfin needed more than vague words about evil intent, no matter what the source, before agreeing to such an endeavor.

"Hold!"

The warrior's expression remains stern, but his left hand unconsciously strokes his drooping black mustache as all eyes turn towards him.

"What crimes has this so-called Dark Brother committed? What foul deeds are attributed to this unnamed threat that he be deserving of not only permanent imprisonment, but also a mission of assassination initiated by own kin? What is the nature of the threat that he poses ... if indeed he has been freed from his containment?"

Ugfin falls silent, his eyes straying for a moment from the elder to seek out those of his companions, especially those of Sabatuu, silently hoping they would understand the underlying honor involved in the situation.

The Elder grimaces but answers.

Our Dark Brother is a Kin Slayer. He has used his abilities to enslave and to destroy our bretheren and other NameGivers. He has defiled holy sites and turned them to his purposes. We do not kill our own lightly human, and you are right to ask. But those that imprisoned him have returned to the Dream. He has proved him self to strong to be held. He must be destroyed.

Rezarion turns his hand and smiles at man-giant. "Ah, you can always count on Ugfin to lay it on the table." He turns back to the elder, nodding quitely to himself as he listens. Then, exploding with animation, the swordsman slides from his trusty mount, flips his hat off and dips into a deep bow.

"A noble quest, indeed, and one I would willingly volunteer both Dracandros," he pause to throw the left side of his cloak back over his shoulder to reveal the glittering blade of his raven-hilted sword, "and myself for at a moment's notice. However, my companion Ugfin does certainly have a point. No insult intended to you, friend Elder, but we have had more than our share of... err, less than honest proposals in the past. That said, I for one am willing to investigate this 'Dark Brother' of yours and, if he is as evil and corrupt as you say he is -- and I have absolutely no doubt he is --I will do everything within my power to shed him of his mortal coil. I'm sure my other brothers at arms can agree to that at least."

Shal'hari regarded the rest of the group with a weary eye. She knew what they were all going to say. They all had this ridiculously overwrought hero streak running through them.
Which meant traveling from morning to night, no stopping at any fine inns or libraries... and no pay. All so that they could confront a creature that was most likely going to crush them to mulch. Still, there was little she could do at this point... and it did intrigue her ...this group of nethermantic obsidimen.
Perhaps there would be some other kind of pay-off, something left behind in this chamber... something worth selling or worth reading.
She sighed and then sat forward on Nettle's saddle.
You have my staff and my aid, Sabatuu... for as long as it is needed.

If an Obsidimen jaw could ever drop, Sabatuu's did. His eyes, glittering in the sun, showed shock, pain and embarassement. There was something hidden deep within that surfaced very infrequently but Ugfin's words boiled it right out of the rock man. His turn, his heavy right hand and the solidness of his fist exploded across the cheek of the statuesque man. How could a man or rock move so quick?

"How dare you insult my Elder and my Liferock!"

With one more deft movement, Sabatuu spins and has his hand around the Swordmaster's throat, lifting him off of the ground. His eyes bore deep into the man's soul with fire and hurt. The obsidimen's reason, however, was abandoned at the slight against his Brotherhood.

"And You! You! How could you think that MY Elder would lie to you. You are welcomed to our Liferock, welcomed to our ceremonies and you dare think our proposal is not honest?"

Sabatuu lets Rezarion down without consideration of his comfort and turns to walk back to his Elder, only turning once by his side, with folded arms and a trembling lip. He continues to peer deeply into both men's souls as if desperately searching for a valid reason for their betrayal.

"The Company of the Unnamed if finished. Your words have cut the knot that could unravel our paths. You energy-wasters have slighted my Liferock, my Elder and my Brotherhood; all of which I am a part of. Why do you do so?"[SIZE=7]

Shock.

That was the only answer as to why Sabatuu was able to catch Rezarion offguard. Shock that his long time companion would so quickly break his oath of peace. Shock that the very same obsidimen who's life he had saved time after time would turn on him without even a moment's hesitation. Shock that after having spent so much time amongst the other races of the Name-Givers, he wouldn't have at least attempted to understand Ugfin's trepidation on his own.

But shock certainly wasn't stopping Rezarion from playing out no less than 47 different attacks in his mind's eye, each a masterpiece of precision and death incarnate that would leave Sabatuu as little more than a collection of broken shards at his feet. The lughead had left himself wide open when he lifted him, and didn't even make a meager attempt to disarm the swordmaster. Proof positive of his temporary instanity.

Which is exactly why Rezarion refrained from following through. Where's the fun in attacking an insane man? Nowhere, that's where. Which is the only reason Sabatuu lived long enough to drop his former companion of his own free will.

Recovering from the short drop, Rezarion looked down at the cuff of his silken shirt in disgust. It was going to cost a fortune to clean that now. Sigh. There's a time and a place for everything, however, and worrying about his wardrobe was the last of his concerns at the moment. Well, not the top priority at any rate.

Looking up, Rez tugged on his velveteen vest as he laid his eyes directly upon his former? companion. "If you had been listening to the words that were being spoken," he began, his voice as cool and cordial as ever, "as opposed to those you prefered to hear, you'd have known that no insult was intended. Your friend and ours, Ugfin, was merely voicing a concern. A concern your esteemed and noble Elder," again he paused, bowing his head sincerely to the elder, "agreed with."

He stood taller still. "The simple truth is that we were invited here at your bequest to aid you in this dire matter. We are your guests as much as we are honored to be standing here before your majestic Liferock. A level of courtesy and understanding is required from us both, especially since neither of us are intimately familiar with one another's traditions. I would have expected you to have known this better than most, Sabatuu, which is why your words and your actions have wounded us all as terribly as it has.

"That said, I for one and still willing to throw in both my sword and my heart into investigating this grave evil befalling your people, with or without you at our side. It is entirely up to you and yours if we are to part way as friends or... otherwise. I leave that decision in your hands. Choose well, my old friend. Choose well."

Ugfin's head is rocked by the blow, and he involuntarily takes a half-step backwards to brace himself. His face and bald pate redden instantly at the insult, his fists clenching into iron balls as he takes a step in the Obsidiman's direction before gritting his teeth and gaining some semblance of control.

The big warrior was both relieved and concerned that his great axe lay against a rock beside his horse, his sole weaponry the broadsword scabbarded at his side. Relieved because he knew that instincts might have caused him to use it in defense, but concerned that it was not close at hand should the situation worsen.

While Ugfin struggles within himself to find the right reaction, his confusion and offense plain for all to see, Rezarion is quick to give voice to the very essence of his feelings.

Rezarion's words appear to strike Sabatuu somewhere within; his brow wrinkles, his eyes soften as the fire behind them subsides slightly and the tension in his back, neck and arms relaxes. He listens, clinging to each word and pauses for a moment to eye the other human before speaking.

"Our time together has been short; filled to the brim no doubt Rezarion, but short none-the-less. Your nature tells you that we have faced very important and potentialy tragic events together; that nature is wrong. We have faced situations that the Great Liferock has destined us to face. Either outcome matters little to the future of our races or these lands. You are close to kin for me, all three of you, but Blackheart and my Brotherhood will always be number one."

The glassy black viasage of Sabatuu turns to his Elder and speaks in his native tongue.

Turning back and striding forward to Rezarion, Sabatuu sets out a hand and wipes away some wrinkles on his right shoulder.

" I will, of course, pay for your shirt to be cleaned Rezarion."

Turning next to the mountain of a man, Sabatuu clears his throat before placing a hand on Ugfin's shoulder.

"Young brother, some day you will understand my actions. I shall help you learn why your words were of such great offense to my Brotherhood. As I have seen in the past, it is hard for the human nature to allow such insights, but yours will I am sure."

There is something hidden now, deep behind the glassy eyes of the Obsidimen, which will undoubtedly take much prying to work free another time. His brow relaxes, his muscles even more so, and once again Sabatuu appears to be his old (very old in fact) self. All three of you have seen such tempests sweep over the usually tender and caring companion, yet only once have you seen it end so abruptly; that was the day the group happened upon Rezarion. Luckily, Rezarion's words saved him that day as well.

The Elder's expressoin is unreadable as he answer, again in the old tonue.


Th words are spoken with the utmost graveness. It sounds as a boulder slowly crushing anoter stone to powder. The Elder much regrets the words he must speak.

When he finishes he turns to the Namegivers, speaking in Throalic.You do not understand our ways, this is clear. Obsidimen are not as other Name Giver races. It is my hope that this you will learn in time. Though we are bound in the same great pattern, very different threads are we made of. I applaud your valor and your honor in holding to your word, in the face of even adversity that strikes so closely to the heart. Through adversity we grow stronger. It is my hope that we have all grown in someway this day. In knowledge if not in heart.

You must set forth now. The injured Pattern of your Group pains our Liferock greatly.

At that , one by one, each of the obsidimen slowly turn, facing away from the group, the Elder last.

Shal'hari

Ugfin

Rezarion

Rezarion has just placing his firebird-feathered hat back atop his head when Sabatuu approached. His eyes narrowed within the deep shadows of its brim, prepared to do what was necessary should the behemoth lash out again. Instead, that unseen scowl quickly transitioned to one of further annoyance as his silken shirt becomes that much dirtier. Without so much as acknowledging Sabatuu's words, the swashbuckler mounted up and pulled his reigns, silently guiding Samson back down the path from wence they came.

Once again Ugfin Darnal stands ramrod straight, but gone this time is his solemn, measured expression. His jaw is clenched tight, his face still aglow, almost crimson enough to mask all trace of the obsidiman's blow.

He watches Sabatuu approach Rezarion, his eyes alight with emotion barely kept in check. As the Purifier comes near the big warrior, Ugfin silently meets the obsidiman's glossy ebon gaze, the veins in his neck stretch taut, his arm muscles strain with tension, sheer willpower keeping them at his side.

The swift conclusion of the meeting takes him by surprise, and as the rock men turn their backs, Ugfin is left pondering his next move. Once again he is relieved that the swordmaster doesn't seem to suffer from the same problem. The warrior retrieves his axe and mount, pausing momentarily to seek out the source of the stony voice, then turns to follow Rezarion when he realizes it is echoing in his head.

Well this is just... wonderful.
Shal'hari rolls her eyes and sighs. For the love of the Passions, could just ONCE something go according to plan? Just. Once.
Spurring Nettle on, Shal'hari flies forward till she's level with the large obsidiman.
Emotions are running high right now, Sabu. Right now they are hurting, as are you. Give them time.

Things, in the span of a few moments, have gone from bad to worse. First, news of the Dark Brother being released was discovered and now the obsidian-like man walks alone and shunned. Sabatuu's shoulders are slumped forward enough to make him appear as one half of a collapsed arch. Tears seem to well up inhis eyes, wetting his eyes like beach glass in the shallows.

His good friend Shal'hari tries her best to comfort him, but the pain is past deep and into abyssal at the moment. How could his defending of the Brotherhood result in this?

"Thank you little one. You are right, only Time has the ability to heal the wounds I have caused. I am not ashamed though, only more aware of the infiniteness of that which I do not understand. Today I have learned a valuable lesson at a grave price."

The normal long-striding and inquisitive demeanor has vanished, leaving only a shell that can speak hollowly.

The trek down the mountainside is long and filled with silence. Ugfin leads his tall, black gelding Lavender all the way down, long since wary of their combined weights on narrow, rocky paths. This time though, he is comforted by the march, as it leaves him time and space to calm himself and attempt to make sense of the past couple of hours.

Try as he might, the big warrior does not see any error in his actions. He knew he had spoken honorably, for to set out on an assassin's task without knowing the merit of the act was not his way. Even the name and misdeeds of the intended target had been obscured or glossed over by he elder. He would have voiced the same concerns at the onset on any such venture, no matter what the source, and Ugfin was sure that his companions had known as much.

His thoughts lead him back to Sabatuu. Honor being so paramount to Ugfin's whole outlook on life, the mere act of the obsidiman's blow had hurt him much greater than any physical wound he has ever taking. Breaking an Oath was an unthinkable, and unforgivable action in the warrior's eyes.

Maybe the big man is not so comforted by the long, thought-filled downhill trip after all.

The trek down Mount Skytouch takes the rest of the day's light, finding them in a valley at sunset. It's a good find for a campsight, one with many caves likely. An open fire on a night in the Twilight Peaks would openly invite a Crystal Raider party like blood to sharks in the Aras Sea. Of any , Sabattu and Ugfin know the most of the dangers of the troll Crystal Raiders, or Omens of Doom as they call them selves in their language.

A lonely tower peak is sihloutted by the setting sun, black as the rest of the mountains that the trolls and obsidimen call their homes. Finding an out of the way cave doesn't take long. The only real worry is of a brithan, or perhaps savage cave trolls inhabiting the place. Mynbruje must be blessing them with a balance on his scales however , taking today's high price in trade, and gives them an empty and large cavern.

Somehow irritated by the days' silence, Shal'hari sets herself to making camp. She quickly summons a Spirit Servant, bidding it to pitch her tiny tent and to start a fire. While it works she watches the other men as they go about making their own camps. Finally she speaks.
Today has been long. Perhaps the longest in our fellowship. As it stands now, the threads that tie us are unraveling quickly. This cannot be. Many of us feel wronged tonight... but there comes a time when you must set aside personal feeling for the sake of the greater good of others. The elders of this Liferock deemed fit to warn us of a threat that could endanger the lives of many. Whether or not we personally believe in this threat, it behooves us to investigate. I'm no troubadour and I have no gift for words so I speak to you plainly. If a Liferock of powerful nethermancers are afraid of this creature then I think we should be as well. I propose we band together and find out what this threat is... even if this is the last time our group is to stand together.... I've said my piece. Make your decisions as you will.

With a deep inhale, Rezarion exhales slowly, seemingly washing away his mood. For the first time since trying to smooth things out with the Elder, he speaks with his usual jovial tone.

"I couldn't agree with you more, love," he begins while putting the finishing touches on his tent. "There are far more important things to concern ourselves with than..." He pauses, throwing a sideway glance at Sabatuu. "Yes, well, let's just say you're right and end it at that."

Standing back to admire his handiwork, he dusts his hands off and moves to make a comfortable spot for himself near the campfire.

"So," he continues, "What do we know of this terribly enigmatic 'Chamber of the Ages?'"

Watching his beloved Windling with eyes of admiration Sabatuu nods (slightly) several times at her words. There is much wisdom packed into such a small container. Shal'hari realizes the danger that not only my former Brotherhood is in but all of barsaive as well. His eyes, milky as they may be, seem to glisten a bit more than usual. Sabatuu, however, refrains from speaking at the moment, not wanting to hurt anyone further.

The cave seems decent enough, a most comfortable place for any obsidimen to stay and Sabatuu's thoughts shift from the Dark Brother to wishing that the caves would swallow him whole and send him to Slumber.

Then Rezarion speaks and Sabatuu is overwhelmed with emotions at teh swordmaster's seemingly shrugging off of the vents prior. Knowing full well, however, that Rezarion is doing it more for show than as an appology Sabatuu is a mite bit happier none-the-less.

"The Chamber of the Ages is a mystery in its own right. More is known of the Dark Brother than of his, until recent, prison. All that is known is that its discovery if very infrequent and the trip perilous to most. The OathBreaker," Sabatuu's face softens into what seems like a mudslide of a face, "has spent most of his years prior to his imprisonment in the Twilight Tower located amongst the Twilight Peaks. He had control of a horror in that tower prior to the Scourge and his studies, workings and corruption all stem from there."

The big human sits against the wall of the cave at the far limits of the fire's light. His shoulders and head are slumped forward, his hands occupied with the familiar routine of casually whittling splinters from a small piece of wood.

Without raising his head, Ugfin mutters at the half-shaped form in his grasp.

"Could've mentioned some of that before!"

Shal'hari sits transfixed by the obsidimen's tale. The Twilight Tower... the Twilight Peaks... I've been waiting all my life for an opportunity like this.
Catching Ugfinn's comment, Shal'hari just shrugs and presses Sabaatu for more information.
What else can you tell us of this Oathbreaker? The Twilight Tower is more then a little known to Nethermancers, rumors of the Order that gather within are legendary. If he was one of their number, it will take more then we currently possess to bind him again. Though her words are grave, there's no mistaking the eagerness in her voice.

Happy to be in discussion with the one companion that was not directly affected by his outburst, Sabatuu nods his head slowly and takes a moment before answering her sudden barrage of questions.

"Little one, the Oathbreaker," again Sabatuu's face draws out in saddened tones, "single-handedly trapped my Brotherhood in the Blackheart Liferock, keeping them in Dreaming. his pwoers are greater than any of us could imagine. That is why he is an Oathbreaker."

Looking upon the other two who are still thankfuly around Sabatuu focuses his attention on them. "He studied tablets at the Twilight Tower to learn the location of the Chamber of the Ages; the Purifier who trapped him did so as well. Perhaps that is where we begin?"

Rezarion continues prodding at the campfire, struggling to keep his mouth closed for the moment. Instead, he seems to have settled himself on listening quietly, absorbing the details as they come.

Ugfin raises his head and meets the obsidiman's gaze, his eyes filled for the moment only with sadness. Shifting his focus slightly, he gently tosses the small carving in his hands towards the small fire dancing under Rezarion's care.

The object falls just short of the blaze, landing instead in a clear patch of floor where the others cannot fail to see its form. The small piece of wood has been rounded to match the shape of the warrior's shield, its face scraped smooth except for the tiny boss in the center. The small carving is marred by a jagged crack that stretches from the edge almost to the middle of the tiny shield.

With a small sigh, Ugfin looks back down and reaches for another small hunk of wood.

Shal'hari just raises an eyebrow and slowly works her way around the firepit, moving nonchalantly until she stands directly in front of the diminutive wooden shield. Pretending to warm herself by the blaze, she carefully snags the shield with her toe and pulls it under her cloak and then sort of shuffles to pick it up.
Still acting nonchalant, she makes her way back to her hanging tent and then ducks inside.

The camp grows quiet in the still semi-uncomfortable air of resentment. After some time in the chill night air, others turn to their bed rolls and tents, leaving Ugfin with the first watch. The moon is high over the Twilight Peaks casting a silver glow that makes the peaks shine. Even as formidable and dangerous as the mountain range is said to be, it's beauty and grandour are plain to any eye.

Soon however, a darkness settles over the camp, and the air grows cooler. Where once it was merely chill, Ugfin's breath can now clearly be seen. The cold comes swiftly that it rouses the rest of the camp. As the Company rises from their bedrolls, the camp is illuminated by a wispy silver light.

It's source is a massive and menacing looking dragon, crouched just out side of the fire light. The light comes from it's eyes, swiling pools of silver and light. The rest of it's form and color are hidden in unnatrual shadow.

A deep voice, similar to one t'skrangs use to make play the villian in a story, comes slithering into their minds.

You seek the Chamber of the Ages NameGivers. Yet you know not where to find it. Your doubts and uncertainties are as plain as your scent. You have not the knowledge required to find this lost secret of the obsidimen.

I know it's secrets. I can give you it's location. For a price.

!!!!
Shal'hari stands for a moment in shock before poking Rezarion hard in the ribs. Catching his eye she points to the dragon and inclines her head, clearly wanting him to be the one to speak first.

Hunched against the rock face, huddled in his fur cloak against the icy cold, Ugfin almost falls off his perch at the Dragon's sudden appearance. Daring to take his eyes off what he could see of the creature, he looks around to check his companions, relieved to see that they are all safe and now awake.

After another quick glance at the towering dragon, Ugfin looks expectantly toward the ever-confident swordmaster.

The cold crawls along the rounded legs of the obsidimen as he sleeps, fitfully. Stirring from the sudden change, Sabatuu sits up as stares out of the cave, only to see the dragon before it slips into his mind.

Sabatuu resists the urge to question the dragon, knowing that his actions today have done enough damage. Still, he cannot help but wonder if Rezarion's tongue will insult the dragon without his intent, as it did to Elder. He prays that Rezarion's words will be more tactful than the ones spoken earlier.

Is this fear, Shal-hari? Is that what this is? ... I thought you had said you WANTED to be a Nethermancer. Apparently, I was wrong. The voice of Veyna, her teacher, was insidious and cold. He mocked her.
To Death's Sea with you ugly little man. Watch how much fear silences me.
Forgive us, Great One. Your appearance here has caught my companions all by surprise... and robbed us of our tongues too, it would seem. Shal'hari performs a stilted bow, unsure of how one actually goes about doing such a thing.
My Name is Shal'hari of Clan Lisvara, Nethermancer of the 6th Circle and Wizard of the 4th. I am interested in what you have to say, Esteemed One. What is this price you speak of?

Rezarion kind of jostles forward and he gets poked and prodded into doing so. He was just about to reach up and remove his hat, a clear indication of him going into full spiel mode, when Shal'hari apparently grew impatient and took the lead.

Rez sort of cocked his eye to the left, looking her up and down out of the corner of his before calmly taking a step back. His gesture instead turned to one of tracing the wide brim of his hat as he recovered from the change of scenarios; it never left his head.

There's a deep rumbling that makes the ground tremor slightly. The dragon shows it's fangs as it's head bobs slightly. It takes a moment to realize that it's not attacking. It's laughing.

I see before me an obsidiman Purifier, a Warrior of the humans, and what I can only take to be a so called "swordmaster". With these brave champions present, it is the windling that speaks first.

Very well child of the wind, it is you I shall treaty with. The price I demand for knowledge is the head of Ja Kae Rik. We shall swear Blood Oath on this.

Shal'hari's eyebrows raise in surprise. She stands for a moment stunned before taking a deep breath and nodding.
Yes, Honored Great One. My companions and I agree to your conditions. The Blood Oath and head of Ja Kae Rik in exchange for the location and secrets of the Chamber of Ages.
Shal'hari performs her strange bow once again, keeping her eyes down. Her mind is quiet, her will forcing the fear from her thoughts. She waits for the dragon to speak.

And you speak for your Company?

Ugfin had had enough!

First one of his companions utterly betrays his trust, and now another one presumes to swear a Blood Oath in his name. The big warrior abruptly stands, discarding his fur wrapping as he steps forward.

"I speak for myself! I, Ugfin Darnal, will swear by your conditions."

Shal'hari simply rolls her eyes.
Oh for the love of the Passions... NOW he speaks... and says the same thing I just said. I will NEVER understand Humans. Ever.

The dragon's head comes up, regarding Ugfin directly, the light from his eyes coming down on the Warrior.

Present your blood then Warrior, and swear your oath. You will provide for me the head of the Sorcerer Ja Kae Rik, Fallen Brother of the BackHeart Liferock, within a year and a day or return to this spot to re=swear your oath if that time expires. In exchange, I, Vestrivian will provide your company with the route to the Chamber of the Ages in a clear and precise manner.

The dragon presents his forward limb, raking one talon across it, spilling his blood to the ground.

Ugfin - Willpower Test

Shal'hari - Willpower test

At the mention of the dragon's name, the big warrior pauses for just a moment, but the pent up anger inside him from the day's events washes away all caution.

Ugfin quickly draws his crystal dagger as he takes another half step towards Vestrivian's looming form, his face almost umber with the strain of barely controlled emotion. He slashes a deep cut in his left forearm, then presents the bloody limb to the towering dragon.

"...

"In less time than it takes a dashing, debonair swordsman -- yours truly -- to blink, the only two true friends he has not only agree to a deal with a demon but willingly throw down their blood in his name. Of course if they hadn't, we'd probably be stoking the brimstone flames deep within his belly. I suppose it's true; the will to survive can make you do funny things.

"Oh well, it's not like I haven't done brasher things in my younger days anyway!"

With another gallant step forward, Rezarion does, indeed, remove his garishly-plumed hat and bows humbly -- well, as humbly as he can muster at any rate. His velvet cloak flutters back over his shoulders almost as if of its own free will.

"Never let it be said that I abandoned my blood brothers even in the most dire of circumstances," the swordmaster announced, his head tilting slightly to sneer for a moment at our very own Oathbreaker before turning back to Vestrivian. "I, too, shall agree to this sanguine oath and swear to bring you the head of Ja Kae Rik in exchange for the promised information."

With that, his hat finds itself back atop his head as he reaches to Dandalus' Folly to retrieve his stiletto, and quickly slashes a surgically-precise line across his forearm. A moment later, a small trinkle of blood bubbles to the surface and drips to the earth beneath his feet.

Pre-Emptive Willpower Test if Needed

Pulling her small dagger across her arm, Shal'hari seals the Blood Oath with Vestrivian.
I, Shal'hari, do swear.
As she watches the blood fall to the earthen floor below, her mind reels with the knowledge of what and who Vestrivian is. The Dragon Nethermancer. Her tiny heart beats faster... the thrill of what is to be told almost overwhelming.
The secrets he must know, the power he must possess... Veyna was a mere fraction of what he is. Look at how the others fear him... how they respect...
Somehow, the great dragon's power seems to feed her Will. She does not quake, she does not tremble. She simply stands in awe.

Willpower Test

The dragon regards the windling again. For a moment she can feel it's thoughts inside her head. As if it's crawling, searching ...

The blood of the sworn pools with the bubbling blood of the Great Dragon on the ground. Finally, after holding the windling with it's gaze for agonizing and awe inspiring seconds, it turns it's head to regard the Purifier. Waiting.