In the Service of Dragons [IC] [FATE]

[Tome]

OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?492048-In-the-Service-of-Dragons-OOC)

Grand Council Chamber, Skytooth Mountains, The Ymsearch Vale
14th day of winter, year 287 of the Skytooth Council

Beneath the grandest of the mountains that ring the Ymsearch Vale are the holdings of the mighty Skytooth Council. A network of expansive tunnels and chambers wrought over a millenia by the draconic council and its servants, sized to accomodate all but the greatest of dragons. It is in these chambers that the majority of the council's dragons make their lairs and, in more recent times, in which the business of rulership is conducted.

The grand council chambers are particularly spacious, designed to host the debates of multiple fully grown dragons. Stone walls have been smoothed and artfully engraved, grand murals depicting the myths of dragonkind - among them, Lyterionrinir can make out depictions of her mother. The chamber is filled with an omnipresent soft green glow, the air humming faintly with enchantment to those with the sense for it.

Coiled around the central dias is the sinous form of Councilor Braeterontax. Near her head flits the diminuitive Councilor Vraetaerontijix, the two mismated wyrms deep in whispered debate. A severe looking troll, dreadlocks neatly held in place by golden ties and dressed in formal vest and tie, sit upon the central dias, taking notes at the councilors' direction. More attendants, these dressed in the crimson robes and striking tattoos of the draconic cult, line the walls, awaiting their masters' bidding.

One of the cultists waves you through the smaller service door set in the grand gates that block the passage in, the well-oiled hinges making no sound. You have been summoned here, for the council has need of your talents. Councilor Braeterontax briefly flicks her eyes towards you as you enter before returning to her hushed conversation.

[Lilyflower]

Lyterion shuffles slightly, looking for a comfortably inobvious and unobtrusive spot to wait for the councilors' attention.

[Obscurejones]

Limping slightly, Carmine shuffles into the room. Once he's certain they won't be called upon immediately he begins to rummage through the deep pockets of his overcoat. Pulling out a small camp stool he unfolds it, speaking quietly as he does so.
"The Dragons' agent, in full knowledge of the severe dignity of this chamber, stood at attention. He was dressed in his finest dressy suit, a tasteful navy blue number with emerald cuff links."
Sitting on the stool he shakes his arm, allowing a church warden's long stemmed pipe and a satchel of tobacco to fall into his hand. He mutters around the pipe as he lights it.
"He stood there with a quiet solemn air, and absolutely did not smoke his pipe. As that might be considered rude."
The plain silver band in his left hand seems to catch some unknown light source as the illusions drape themselves over him.

[ChaosArchon]

Llyrailill hovers, lounging in the air, whatever the reason they were brought, it would be a fun tale to tell.

[Tome]

The conversation ends momentarily, Braeterontax cutting it short when she alerts her fellow councilor to your presence. "Ah, agents, excellent. Right on time" the tiny drake chirps happily, flitting towards you in a quick loop.

The great serpent huffs a compact syllable in high draconic with a malcontent tone, raising a simple staircase from the chamber's floor. Vraetaerontijix wings back up to the dais, whispering to her trollish secretary - Fergus by name, if you've ever chanced to ask. He passes you on the staircase, carrying a thick sheath of papers and nodding you a friendly greeting.

The smooth glass bowl set in the centre of the dias hums to life as you all assemble at the top, projecting a map of what you recognise as the Vale's southern border with Simsinarr. "We've been having issues with a smuggling group running along our southern border and into Simsinarr" Vraetaerontijix explains, indicating a series of marked points on the map. "Our normal measures have failed. Scrying turns up nothing and they've somehow been able to dodge our flybys of the area".

Braeterontax interjects sternly, lowering her massive head enough to fix you with a commanding glare. "Go. Find them. Capture their leadership alive if possible, retrieve their corpses if not. Do not allow the council to be linked to this in any way".

"Quite" Vraetaerontijix continues, "Simsinarr is already quite aggitated, we don't need issues of border security adding to things".

"Questions?" she adds, an expectant twinkle in her eye.

[Obscurejones]

Carmine ponders for a moment, puffing serenely on his pipe. Still a thought nags at his brain enough to mumble it and risk disrupting his illusions.
"...What are they smuggling? Do we know what's being moved?"

[Tome]

The diminuitive councilor shakes her head. "Unfortunately not. The Vale doesn't appear to be their point of sale and we've yet to seize a shipment".

[Lilyflower]

"Um, then, what do we know about the, uh... I mean, how big a group is it, what are they like?"

[Tome]

"Worryingly professional" Braeterontax rumbles, fixing the agents with a pointed glare.

"Indeed" Vraetaerontijix agrees cheerfully. "What few witnesses we have paint them as highly disciplined and organised, likely familiar with violent means when needed".

"We have not eliminated the possibility of a foreign military unit" adds the larger councilor with hint of exasperation leaking into her voice.

[Obscurejones]

"So our mission, roughly stated is to engage with an enemy force about which we know nothing save that they appear exceedingly competent. And unconcerned with international legalities."
Carmine resignedly shrugs his shoulders.
"Should be fun."