In a dark alley in the western district of the Crystal Cascade, a cloaked man enters an unmarked door. Within he finds bar that is sparsely populated. Approaching the bartender he is met with an upraised hand to forestall his approach. The bartender casually tilts his head toward the door in the back guarded by two musclebound Canidae. The dog men look him over before opening the door and ushering him in. One of the Canidae follow him in, close the door, and posts up within. This internal room has several chairs and a desk. Behind the desk sits an elf in fine robes. On the desk is a skull with glowing purple eyes. The elf gestures for the cloaked man to sit. He sits knowing no one but the owner is allowed to speak within the Silent Tankard without permission. The silence stretches on for a full five minutes before another door on the opposite side of the room opens, sliding a bookshelf back. Out walks an extremely thin human male. His fingers are adorned with jeweled rings and his head is completely bald. He’s wearing a blood stained tunic and pants. The sound of his boots slapping along the ground all but echo through the room. The gaunt figure holds out his hand and the elf at the desk produces a ball floating water that rolls down the front of his garments. Once he’s been rendered clean, he sits on the front of the desk and looks at the hooded man.

“You can take off your hood Cyrus Cullep. There are no secrets from me here. Speak.” The gaunt man said in a hissing snake like voice.

“Discretion is the order of the day for me. The King’s people are watching my every move. Right now my duplicate is complaining to a local baker about the quality of his cakes. I won’t take up too much of your time. I have a job for you.” Lord Cullep said.

“I assumed so. Someone of your stature doesn’t come here to chat. Catch or release?” Asked the rail thin man.

“I’m willing to pay double for this one. I need you to bring the package to a specific location.” Spoke Lord Cullep.

“Double without even telling me what the package is? What level is this package?” Asked the lanky gentlemen.

“Upon my last report, it is level fifteen. All the information I have on it can be found in this letter. Along with the expected arrival times and location of the drop.” Answered Lord Cullep holding out the letter.

“You wrote it down? How bold of you. Let’s see here.” Said the owner as he took the letter and read through it quickly. Once he was done, he slowly lowered the letter revealing his eyes. He was starring daggers at Cullep.

“Triple.” Said the owner.

“Done. As always it was a pleasure doing business with you Lean Paul.” Cullep said standing up and replacing his hood.

“Likewise.” Said Lean Paul, Guild Master of the Silent Tankards Assassins Guild. He watched Lord Cullep leave and waived the Canidae guard to post up outside. He looked over to the elf seated behind the desk and flipped the note over to him.

“Put together a black bag team. This job is trouble. I want our people in and out without raising an alarm. Contact our friends at Iron Mountain Plateau. Cullep is known for his thirst for retribution, not his attention to detail. You may speak.” Lean Paul said.

“Shall I ask the skull?” The elf said.

“Go ahead. We paid enough for it.” Answered Lean Paul.

“What should we do about this job?” The elf asked the skull on the desk. In an otherworldly voice it answered.

“Do not fight the target. It will be the end of all things.” Was all it said.

“Helpful as ever.” Commented Lean Paul.

“You see there is the King’s Court where all the lords and ladies gather to discuss matters of state. You’ll be expected to mingle there. Letting the nobility meet and greet you. You will not be allowed any weapons or dimensional bags in the palace proper. Do I have to say that is not a place for violence? If you are feeling overwhelmed, you can retire to one of many alcoves inset in the walls around the room. That is where most of the politicking is done and a way to escape the many eyes and ears since they have privacy enchantments on them. I have counseled his majesty that it is best if you make an appearance, he makes his proclamation, and we send you on your way with the Deep Dwellers. After our ghost encounter, I think it will be imperative that you make your way to the Shattered Sky post haste.” Explained Lord Pentecost.

“Why the urgency all of a sudden?” Deacon asked.

“The Deep Well is a labyrinth beneath the Shattered Sky. I assume your companion Typhus was going to warn his kin about danger being so close. The sooner we can get you there to deal with that the better. I have the Knights in the capital on high alert for any ruby jewelry. We won’t let what happened in Clayton happen to the capital. Not on the eve of war. Now we are only a few hours out from the Cascade. I suggest you get some sleep.” Lord Pentecost said as he picked up some paperwork and began to read.

Deacon didn’t know what to make of this new dynamic. Sure he wasn’t being a jerk anymore, but this is the same man that threated to imprison his party after pinning him to the wall with his psychic powers. He almost feels bad about the plan he set in motion back at the Plateau. Wotan offered him his sleeping compartment, but Deacon wasn’t about to sleep in this carriage with these two. He tried intangibly stepping out of the carriage and found himself blocked. The enchantments on the carriage must be preventing his ability to phase through objects. When Wotan realized, he was trying to leave he opened the carriage door. Deacon was relieved to see they weren’t trying to keep him here. He stepped out of the door and inertia exerted itself on him again. He stumble stepped a bit to get his footing before regaining control. That carriage was a marvel.

Shortly after he caught up with his own carriage and slipped in through the wall. In his absence, the party decided to reallocate space to make the ride more comfortable. Seeing there was no room for him without waking everyone, he ghosted through the roof and perched up on top. This trip was one surprise after another. He’d come a long way from his days working in a cubicle. Just over the rise he could see two large pointy objects. They must be huge considering they were visible at distance. Deacon would have to ask about them when everyone woke up. He could see some lanterns hanging about the Deep Dwellers wagons and decided to go check and see who was awake. He hoped down and waived at one of the knights on horseback riding up and down the column. Deacon was ignored.

Getting over to the second wagon, the one with a roof but no walls, Deacon could see Typhus and Daskus huddled around a crystal speaking with someone. As he got closer, he noticed the twin Tuskaxe boys snickering. Approaching the slowly moving wagon, Deacon pretended to knock on a nonexistent door. That earned him a smirk from Daskus.

“Hop up. This conversation includes you anyway.” Daskus said waiving him in.

“What conversation?” Deacon asked squeezing into a space next to the burly dwarves.

“I’ll be leaving some of my people with you and Typhus. I must go back now that we have a credible threat to the Sky. I’ve been assured you will be in the capital only a short time. I ask that you make haste to the Shattered Sky once your business with King Reagan concludes. We need to finally put to rest this issue within the hierarchy of the Deep Dweller lineage.” Daskus answered.

“Yes, thank you for your efforts in retrieving the tapestry.” Came a voice from the communication crystal.

“You’re welcome?” Deacon responded not knowing who he was talking too.

“This is our father, Kestus Bloodbeard, Sovereign of House Bloodbeard.” Typhus said. Deacon stared down at the crystal. The man displayed an immaculate beard. Beads were laced within it and the tip had a deep red cloth hanging from it. He was well muscled and wearing full hardened leather armor and glorious cloak around his shoulders.

“Nice to meet you sir.” Deacon said mustering as much respect as he could.

“Likewise. Now Daskus, you are done politicking. Get back here. We will be mustering an offensive to open the great door and retake the well. You and some of the Smitehammers will be setting up forward operating camp for the rest of the forces.” Kestus said.

“Yes father.” Replied Daskus before the light went dim on the crystal.

“Seems like a nice guy.” Deacon commented.

“Well you never trained with him.” Typhus said getting a throaty chuckle from Daskus.

“Do either of you know what those spikey peaks are in the distance?” Deacon asked changing the topic.

“You mean the two main crystals of the capital city?” Typhus asked.

“I guess. We can see them from here.” Deacon said realizing they might be too short to see much over the tree line.

“Why do you think they call the capital city the Crystal Cascade?” Typhus asked Deacon holding up a hand to forestall Daskus’s explanation.

“No idea.” Deacon replied.

“There are two large crystals the castle is nestled between. Below that hill are smaller crystals sticking out of the ground that cascade throughout the city in descending size order. Once you reach the outskirts you have to dig in the dirt to find more but they are there. Can’t be mined or cut. There is a rumor that the royal family knows a way to mine them. They say that’s how they managed to get a castle built between them. We think the space was already there. Currently they just use them as decoration for the city.” Typhus explained.

“So you’re telling me that someone just has a big crystal in their basement that no one can do anything with? They just build around them?” Deacon asked confused.

“Precisely. It makes them worthless because they are everywhere. Might as well be statues.” Daskus spat.

“So many nobles make it a contest to decorate around the crystals on their property. Once a year they bring in a judge for bragging rights. Wasteful if you aske me.” Typhus said.

“What if you could figure out a way to excavate them?” Deacon asked.

“Thousands have tried. Only one person ever had any success. Of course it was Molok. He figured out a way to separate two using some kind of sound magic. Problem was, all the others crystals, including the big ones started to resonate along with the two that separated. The king at the time immediately outlawed trying to mine the crystals of the capital after that. Molok was allowed to keep one half and the other was affixed to the crown. An easy way for the king to know if anyone tried it again. Several mages have been locked away for breaking that law. Molok was the only one who ever came close.” Daskus said.

“How do you know so much about that?” Deacon asked.

“Molok is Daskus’s favorite subject. We met him when we were kids and he’s been obsessed ever since.” Typhus laughed.

“Does this have anything to do with the bread?” Deacon asked. All laughter ended abruptly as Daskus shot daggers with his eyes at Typhus.