Servants of the Fallen IC

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The city of Neverwinter, jewel of the North. Having weathered a series of disasters in the last few years from two ancient evils rising from their graves, one would expect the city to be weakened. However the Great Plague, the city's siege at the hands of its enemies, the army of the dead and the King of Shadows have benefited the city in several ways; The people of Neverwinter have become accustomed to war and the city's army is both strong and well-trained. The lords of Neverwinter have united the citizens under them and that cooperation has made the authorities stronger than ever. The destruction of smaller cities nearby has created an influx of refugees desperate to find new homes, work and safety and thus the city has more than recovered from its losses. The city's opponents have been weakened considerably and seeing Neverwinter's rising power seek to forge diplomatic ties to it. Five short years after the last disaster, Neverwinter is stronger than it had ever been. And the city will need that strength soon-its citizens can only hope it will be enough.



The unnamed clearing in the unnamed forest on an unnamed small mountain of the Spine of the World had been chosen for exactly that; its namelessness. No-one cared what happened here and that suited those that would gather here just fine.
The circle of frost-covered trees shook as the air itself seemed to twist and tear, three gaping holes in the fabric of the Cosmos materializing out of nothing. Out of each Gate a tall, hooded and robed figure came, all three identical in their black attire and lack of any features that would stand out. The three seemed so plain that the eye refused to follow their moves, the mind did not register their presence unless it was pointed out.

"Welcome brothers."

The phrase was repeated three times but no-one could say who spoke first; the voices were identical. What followed was an uneasy silence but whoever could spot the figures saw that the small motions and shifts in stance accompanying conversation were there. The gates snapped shut and the figures waited for the others to come.

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Assume you've been contacted and offered 1.000 gold to appear to this clearing on the condition that you come alone and tell no-one of it. You know the general purpose of this meeting-being hired by an organisation that works against Neverwinter-but not the specifics.

Describe your character's entry so that others know how you look like and interact with eachother.
A spot DC 20 reveals the presence of some creatures in the clearing. A spot DC 40 reveals the exact location of the three figures but you still don't see them. Divinations don't reveal them. The figures don't present themselves until everyone is in the clearing.

[Jack_Simth]

A woman in a faded, gray cloak, materializes seemingly from nowhere, with her face covered by the cloak's hood. It is difficult to make out much about her, but as she rises, you spy travel-worn boots, supple leather gloves, a woolen skirt, a shirt and vest, all faded to gray from time. When you finally catch a glimpse of her face, she is beautiful beyond measure with coal-black skin, vivid red eyes, and snow-white hair. Nothing is disturbed by her presence; the grass is still bent by the wind, even when it puts the blades through her leg, she leaves no tracks, and is utterly silent.

On arrival, she frowns, examines the area carefully, then frowns slightly, and says "Good Morning" in twenty different languages.

Mechanics

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Spot: (1d20+11)[20]
Arrives at location on the Ethereal, traveling underground and navigating with use of X-Ray vision, and Manifests.

[Tacitus]

Zen-Ort Ak-Uy, Gargoyle Totemist

When the beast arrives it is in a manner such that all are made aware of his passage. He drafts down from the skies and quickly pulls his wings in as he nears the ground. The frozen earth trembles and the stone warrior rears back. He spreads four arms and two tentacles out with a mighty stretch and a flex of his wings. His keen eyes are able to determine three shadowy figures accompany them but he is unable to pinpoint them exactly. It is a frustrating feeling after so many years of starlight etched into his eyes in clear patterns.

As is typical for a gargoyle Zen-ort is composed largely of stone with great horns and wings of granite. He is powerful and lithe and despite having the durability of stone he seems to be slightly diminished as though his stone skin were pulled in against his bones. Another creature of his power would be incredibly more vital, but in return he is much lighter on his feet. The shade of his stone skin is slightly darker than normal which suggests not being from these lands. His torso is encapsulated with finely wrought mithral and a gleaming belt locks around his wide waist. An elaborately quilted tabard hides the majority of his torso while a rosy quartz mineral covers his face. A crown of jagged stone protrudes from his skull between his horns, mingling with the golden light. Arrayed about his body are various scraps of wild beasts and smears of blood.

In addition to his stone hide and tentacles the aforementioned extra set of arms stem from his ribs, starting as wisps of blue-white smoke. Weaving between his horns is a glowing crown and just below is a mask of three parts resembling a chimera. Extending beyond his stone claws are additional claws of light that seem ill suited for combat. Scraps of fur hang from his body as if built from a great Worg which is mostly hidden by a ghostly brown carapace that occasionally extends to cover his form in the guise of the mighty Tarrasque.

For a moment his throat grumbles with the sound of boulders churning, "<Terran>Bloody cold up here..."

Mechanics:

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Spot: (1d20+25)[36]

Incarnum Details:

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Essentia:12 (E=Essentia Invested) Capacity 3, +1 for bold
Soulmelds:
[0] Shedu Crown: Immune to Bull Rush. +E competence to saves vs mind affecting effects.
[3] Sphinx Claws: +1+E Competence bonus on strength ability checks and strength based skill checks
[Bound]: Able to make a full attack after a charge.
[3] Worg Pelt: 2+2E competence bonus on Hide and Move Silently checks.
[0] Girallon Arms: 2+2E competence bonus on climb and grapple checks.
[Bound]: Gain 1 primary and 3 secondar Claw attacks. +E Enhancement on claws.
[3] Totem Avatar: Grants hit points equal to meldshaper level. These are not temporary and unshaping this soulmeld could stagger, render unconscious, or kill the totemist. Furthermore, +E enhancement on natural armor.
[Bound]: +E morale bonus on damage rolls.
[0] Dread Carapace: Allows for increasing the penalty to hit to increase damage on a one for one ratio (or 2 if bite). Starts at -1 +1/+2 and increases by -1 +1/+2 for each Essentia invested.
[3] Threefold Mask of the Chimera: Immunity to being flanked. Also, +E competence bonus on search and spot checks.

[DJDeMiko]

Gerard

The sound of hoof beats muffled by snow proceed the man. He arrives at an easy pace riding a stark white warhorse in full barding, the horse is so white that one might think it able to hide in snow if not for its thick black mane.

As the man enters the clearing his mithril armor gleams. Even at a distance it is clear that he is tall and quite powerful, for a human. The man stops his mount far from the others and climbs off it. He does not bother to tie it off to a tree, he simply pats it once. He turns to survey the few who have arrived already and then removes his helm.

His eyes are a clear blue and his hair is a dark black. Those close enough to him can see that despite his height and armor, he has a relatively thin bearing, like a man who has been slightly ill for years and lost his appetite, however his skin has the healthy look of a human in its prime.

He places the helm in one of the horses saddlebag, then removes his gauntlets and places them within the bag as well. As the gauntlets come off they reveal a large platinum band on his wedding finger and an ornately worked ruby ring ont he pointer finger of his right hand.

The man walks the rest of the way to the group, not seeming to notice the cold at all and says, "Greetings, I am Gerard Stathen of Neverwinter."

Mechanics and possible knowledge check?

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The wedding band is a ring of mind shielding (how well will that protect me from having my alignment read by highest level creatures?)

The horse's saddlebag is a bag of holding

Gerard was a level 12ish paladin hero of Neverwinter before he fell. I don't know how common that level is within this world, but I figure that people familiar with Neverwinter have a good chance to recognize the name.

If the dm allows it some really basic info that is probably easily known is that he was a knight of Torm, fought against the undead for Neverwinter, his wife died in childbirth and that he disappeared in a battle that had no survivors, his corpse was never recovered but he was presumed dead.

Belial - I'm cool with people being able to learn more detailed stuff with high knowledge checks if you'd like, just let me know.

[Fan]

unlike the others Ravax demonfathers entry had little pomp or decor. he had never been one for such, and despite his "pale" apperance one could still call the man on foot entering the clearing beautiful. He carried about him the atypical elven arrogance, and disdain for other creatures yet around him things seemed to lose color, and the very joy of anything in this drawl envrion seemed to be drained away into some horrible dark void inside the pale elf.

He wore a coat woven of a rare, and beaitful ivy that had several runes woven into the very fabric of the surcoat that it made up.
((Will eidt in more when i have time.)

[Whiplord]

Eclipse, Servant of the Dark God

To those in the clearing who cared to listen, they might have heard a muffled clanking coming up through the woods for the last few minutes. Eventually, a silhouette would have come clear, and finally would have resolved itself into the shape of a figure in full armor.

He lumbers up the remainder of the slope, seeming in no hurry, and steps into the clearing completely, giving any watchers their first full view. A man of average height stands before you, in a complete set of full armor. The armor itself is pocked and rusted, as if it has seen great age and use in its lifetime. Covered in sharp protrusions, and overlapping plates, it seems reminiscent of a beetle's carapace.

A thin yet massively long greatsword hangs from his back, and a tattered black cloak flutters from his shoulders. He reaches up and pulls off the great, horned helmet, and reveals his face.

It seems to go against expectations based on the threatening armor. Revealed is the smiling face of a man, framed by wispy black hair. Crimson eyes stare out of his face, and it seems clear they are included in the smile. Yet despite this, something feels wrong about him. No matter how long you stare at his face it seems impossible to guess at his age. And besides that, an aura of unease seems to radiate from him.

"Greetings, comrades..." The voice resonates out over the clearing seeming strong and clear at first. But just as before, there seems to be a feeling of putrefaction along with it to anyone with keen sense. Finally, he smiles fully, and a sharp set of teeth are revealed.

He looks around the clearing, and can sense that the original voices emanated from three figures somewhere in the clearing. He is unable to determine their exact location though, to his annoyance.

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Spot: (1d20+22)[32]

[The Glyphstone]

The next arrival does not approach from the ground, but from the air as did the gargoyle. Unlike the gargoyle, however, it does so utterly silently, a faint dot in the distance that grows rapidly in size as it nears, becoming visible as a black and grey warhorse, its hooves transparent and trailing wisps of smoke. Atop the creature's back rides either a very old gnome or an extremely large raisin, wrapped in robes of dark burgundy with a green trim. What skin is visible is charcoal-grey and shriveled, pulled tight over thin bones. Only the gnome's eyes show any sign of life, glowing pinpricks of a brilliant green.

As the dark steed's hooves brush the ground noiselessly, its rider dismounts smoothly and looks around at the others present. At the same time, a twisting aura of darkness materializes out of nowhere around him, almost totally obscuring his form except for those glowing eyes. His mouth does not move, but all the same, those present hear a harsh voice echo in their heads, disproportionately deep for its apparent source.

<Well met in the darkness...>

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Knowledge: Religion to recognize Barien as a Lich, he's not trying to obscure it.
A Knowledge: History check would identify his clothing as the traditional dress of the Shadovar, residents of the flying city Shade.
DC27 Will save to see that the Phantom Steed he is riding is actually a shadow imitation (conjured via Shadow Illusion, using a Heightened Silent Image to 3rd level).

[Whiplord]

Eclipse takes a moment to look around at the other inhabitants of the clearing. The ghost woman and the gargoyle each net an intrigued glance, while the paladin gains a raised eyebrow: he seemed familiar somehow...

His gaze continues traveling around the clearing, and picks up the shadowy elf, who get's a smirk.

As the gnome begins to descend from the sky, Eclipse' grin widens further at the sight of a fellow undead. It turns into a smirk though, as he effortlessly sees through the false illusion of the phantom steed.

After the gnome speaks, Eclipse responds. "Well met indeed, shadow mage."

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Will: (1d20+27)[45]
Knowledge (Religion): (1d20+18)[32]

[Fan]

((I've taslked with Belial OOC, but it irrelavant for now. Also he is a Wight/Elf/Evolved Undead.))
The wight looked up with a sunked face from his small book that seemed incredibly old and worn from what you could see of it. He saw that the only two visibly present a "Shadow mage" as had been revealed by the man in full plate... Neither of them looked terribly intellegent from the visible amounts of pomp they were putting into apperances, and although his own nature was concealed due to him not WANTING to be fearsome he did in fact wonder why they had decided to appear in such forms.
"So, if I may ask. when are we going to be getting to bussiness? I'm not exactly the patient type, and I have plans to put into action."

[Incendius]

Vervasi

The appearance of the next of the summoned individuals comes in a manor far less noteworthy than the others. A simple entrance is all that occurs, a woman walking down a path, with no traces of magic, power, or ancient knowledge adorning her. She approaches the glade on graceful feet leaving practically no trail, and those that notice her stance might be able to recognize signs of alertness and experience, but that much would be assumed in a gathering of this nature. She is apparently a small woman, of less than regular size, and her frame is as slender, giving no apparent idea of power.

The woman walks underneath a gray cloak, her face obscured by its shadow and a black headband, wrapped in a manor that few features are left to notice. A strand of black hair is astrew from under her hood, and her eyes are a shade of dark black, constantly dancing from one figure to the next. A dark collar obscures her neck, and the rest of her body is covered in a smooth yet subdued chain mail shirt that one might see on any battlefield. On her back one can see a long hafted halberd, on dark wood and dullened metal.

If one had been examining her closely enough to take in her eyes, one might have noticed that as she did her sweep of the different individuals in the glade, she lingered on a set of points where nothing appeared to be, before slightly shaking her head and continuing on with her inspection.

As she enters the glade the woman speaks not, and simply finds her way to a side of the meeting. She seems to avoid the rest of the company, gravitating to none of the individuals, looking for a place of her own to listen in on the pitch that the those who had requested her here were about to give. Her breathing stays soft and even, despite the appearances and displays that the other are prone to.

The woman is quite possibly the most "normal" individual present, but it is obvious by her nonchalant attitude and stance that she is far from being out of her zone of comfort. With nary a word, as she finds her place equidistant from any of the others, she folds her arms and seems to stare off into the distance, appreciating the scenery, paying for more attention to the scenes of nature around them than to the amazing personas or people.

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Spot (1d20+25)[42]

[Whiplord]

Eclipse turned to the elf, and gave him a cold stare. "Patience, young one. We barely even know what our business is. I'm sure our...employers will tell us in due time." Again, the toothy grin.

Letting the grin slip, he turns to examine the newest arrival. A small smile toys at the corner of his lips. Ah... a mortal woman. And a clearly confident one. This get's more interesting by the second...

((If Vervasi acknowledges him, he will nod in greeting, else he will simply look away))

A faint rumbling sensation came from Eclipse' long dead stomach. He struggled to keep his features smooth at the mild disgust that he still felt from this.

((Muttered))"Too bloody early... no breakfast even..."

[Greyen]

Szeth

A small halfling dressed in simple dark gray leathers and armed with a multitude of daggers drops lightly out of a tree in the forest and slinks into the clearing. His face is almost girlish, and he seems almost washed out himself. His features are nondescript, unrememberable. A small blackened buckler floats at his side.

He simply walks to the edge of the group eyes dancing among them, no words or sounds pass as he moves.

He stands at the edge of the gather ing of peoples, nodding to those who make eye contact or acknowledge him.

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Disguise Spot DC 30 to see his true nature as a pixie.
Spot (1d20+23)[43]

[Whiplord]

Turning his head slightly at the noise, Eclipse sees the halfling, and immediately attempts to hide a smile.

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Spot: (1d20+22)[30]

[Rei_Jin]

Duensal Duskwatcher

A cloaked figure, dressed in purest white walks into the clearing from the trees, nods to those assembled and, after looking around a few times, puts his hood down.

A moment later, blue sigils start floating around his bald head, and he looks to each of those gathered, and nods.

A good night, for such as it is.

His voice is rich and lyrical, but also very much controlled. Those hearing it get the feeling that he could change it with little effort.

[Jack_Simth]

Marassa first replies to the gargoyle, in the same language he used (Terran): "The weather is what it is. Would you like a fire?"
With that, Marassa Summons a medium Fire elemental, and instructs it to hold still in Ignan.

She then greets Gerard in turn, in the same language he used: "Good morn. You may call me Marassa."

She continues, greeting those who greeted her in turn - first the man in full armor, then the mentalist on the illusory horse.

She likewise turns to the man in the ivy coat, and replies to his rhetorical question "I imagine we shall start when our hosts reveal themselves, although I know not when that will be."

She returns the greeting of the man with the floating blue sigils: "Hail and well met, traveler."

Mechanics:

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Summon Elemental Reserve Feat, with a 6th level spell slot held for use, brings a medium elemental of any of the standard types for the cost of a standard action; lasts six rounds, but can be used at will and thus repeated indefinitely - which she'll do, if nothing more important comes up. Supernatural ability, nothing to identify with Spellcraft - although to those without Spellcraft or the Ignan language, it'll look pretty mystical - about twice a minute (every 36 seconds), the fire flickers, and she says something in a foreign language...).
Will save vs. Phantom Steed, assuming it's a spell or spell-like ability: (1d20+31)[43]
Spot vs. Seth: (1d20+11)[23], but not acting on it, regardless of the result

[Ryuuk]

Off in the distance, a weak sound can be heard. The wind does little to carry it though and at first it seems to be nothing more then its whistle. Slowly, the tune grows stronger, more defined; a somber tune, at least at first, played by fiddle and flute Strangely, this tune seems to find its way into even those who long past left such earthly pleasures behind. Its source becomes visible as it makes its way out of the woods.

A young looking man with pale skin walks towards the clearing. He shows calm, handsome expresion, surrounded by long black hair. He wears leather boots, black breeches and a dark blue dress shirt, all having recieved excellent care. His vest and his cloak both seem of a much higher quailty though, most likely even magical. An array of pouches and objects, amongst them a flute, hang from his belt. Around his neck hangs a set of pan pipes.

He strides with his eyes closed, his hands busy playing the tune on the fiddle while. The hand with the bow also holds a strange longsword, the appearent source of the flute. The swords tune fades as he steps into the clearing though, and he takes that as a sign to stop.

He opens his eyes, revealing a pair of black pupils. He gently puts the fiddle into an opening at his side, where it seems to disappear. He looks around to those gathered. "Oh good, looks like I'm not too late." A pair of sharp fangs show themselves when he speaks. Likewise, his eyes seem to flash red for only a second as he smiles. "I didn't think there would be so many..."

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Spot (1d20+13)[31]
Will (1d20+12)[15]

[DJDeMiko]

Gerard

Maressa speaks to Gerard - "Good morn. You may call me Marassa."

He bows formerly to her and says ""A pleasure to make your acquaintance my lady."

The distate that Gerard feels in being in the presence of so many undead barely even skims the surface of his mind let alone his body language or manners. Though it did flit through for a moment, an old feeling . . a righteous one that now made him just feel mild anger, after all he had lost his wife because of them and had spent so much of his life fighting them.

That was another life though and this was his chance to repay Neverwinter. If my life taught me one thing its that creatures such as these will make powerful allies in my fight, he thought.

ooc - incendiary, most normal looking person there :P I look like the quintessential human paladin :P

[Belial_the_Leveler]

As the small group gathers in the clearing, the night twists and reshapes to accomodate three identical figures; very tall for humans, completely covered in black robes, hooded and faceless. Their presence feels stranger still; an unearthly chill emanates from the three, an unnatural aura, the sense that something is terribly wrong. Despite you expecting someone to appear, the sudden materialisation of the three figures fills you with the irrational desire to flee or cower before them.

So, you've come. Are you truly ready to pledge against Neverwinter?
The first figure says.

Your agreement now is required. The rewards will be great but the danger just so as well.
The second figure says in an identical voice.

Your mission will be to infiltrate and destroy the envoys of Neverwinter to Luskan and retrieve one of the items they carry.
The third figure says, speaking over the other two.


mechanics

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DC 32 will save or cower in fear, else shaken for 1 round. Immunities to fear/mind affecting apply normally.
Listen DC 25 to realize the figures are not breathing.
Spot DC 25 to realize something is wrong with the figures.
Spot DC 70 to overcome the illusion-will PM stuff to those that make it.

[Rei_Jin]

Duensal looks at the cloaked figures, and shudders, nodding in recognition of their question. He barely looks at them, as if trying to avoid peering beyond their outward appearance.

Yes, I pledge myself to your cause, for what it is worth.

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Will save (1d20+18)[31]

[Tacitus]

Zen-Ort

When the mage summons forth a fire elemental he first contemplated attempting to merely eat it. His thoughts of hunger are blasted away when their new superiors speak up once again. Something is quite obviously wrong, that much is clear, starting with the fact that these beings do not breathe. His tentacles flex as he lowers himself into a cowering crouch, "The city will burn. I start first with these... envoys. Are they delicious? Will I require seasonings?"

Mechanics:

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Will Save: (1d20+20)[30]
Listen: (1d20+23)[31]
Autosucceed 'something wrong' spot DC with a +25 modifier after soulmelds.

Incarnum Details:

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Essentia:12 (E=Essentia Invested) Capacity 3, +1 for bold
Soulmelds:
[0] Shedu Crown: Immune to Bull Rush. +E competence to saves vs mind affecting effects.
[3] Sphinx Claws: +1+E Competence bonus on strength ability checks and strength based skill checks
[Bound]: Able to make a full attack after a charge.
[3] Worg Pelt: 2+2E competence bonus on Hide and Move Silently checks.
[0] Girallon Arms: 2+2E competence bonus on climb and grapple checks.
[Bound]: Gain 1 primary and 3 secondar Claw attacks. +E Enhancement on claws.
[3] Totem Avatar: Grants hit points equal to meldshaper level. These are not temporary and unshaping this soulmeld could stagger, render unconscious, or kill the totemist. Furthermore, +E enhancement on natural armor.
[Bound]: +E morale bonus on damage rolls.
[0] Dread Carapace: Allows for increasing the penalty to hit to increase damage on a one for one ratio (or 2 if bite). Starts at -1 +1/+2 and increases by -1 +1/+2 for each Essentia invested.
[3] Threefold Mask of the Chimera: Immunity to being flanked. Also, +E competence bonus on search and spot checks.

[Fan]

((Speaking of which my Aura of Despiar MAY cvause them to take a -2 on saves, but meh. :P))
The Elf is odly unaffected, and oddly uninterested in the apperance of the two beings, and instead resumed reading his small book that he carried within his side pouch.
"So, now that we are all here. I assume this means we can get to the reason we all came correct?"

[Incendius]

A low hiss escapes the woman's lips as she shivers back in fear of the figures. This hiss contains fear, as is obvious, but a perceptive person could also hear a portion of anger in it, as well as in the manor her shivering stance seemed to shift.

Almost imperceptively the woman adds a "Yes" to her hiss, even as she shrinks back from the figures.

The fact that anger still clawed its way up, even in the face of supernatural fear, was another indicator that something was slightly off about the woman, mortal and human as she may be.

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Auto suceed spot/listen

Will (1d20)[5]

[Jack_Simth]

"My clan is first and foremost, but as long as they are not threatened, I can play the mercenary. I will pledge to fight your battles for you so long as my clan is not threatened and the rewards are commensurate with the work and the risk."

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Marassa: Immune to both Fear and Mind-Affecting effects
Summoned Fire Elemental Will: (1d20+1)[16] (not that anyone cares)
Listen: (1d20+18)[23] (not that it particularly matters to me - I don't breath either)
Spot: (1d20+11)[31]

[Whiplord]

"Yes, we are content with your offer. Though what exactly is going on here escapes us, this is good enough,"

Eclipse feels slightly perplexed by everyone's reactions. He noted that there was definitely something strange about the figures in general, and hecould tell they weren't breathing. But then neither did he and a few of his new would-be companions.

He noted the fact, and decided to proceed with caution, but proceed nonetheless.

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Eclipse immune to mind affecting spells and abilities
Spot - (1d20+22)[31]
Listen - (1d20+22)[42]

[Ryuuk]

Otho

Otho shrugs. "If it'll get me closer to her, I accept." Some of the others looked a bit more affected. The employers were probably not a group you wanted to cross.

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undead
Spot (1d20+13)[21]
Listen +25 mod

[Greyen]

Szeth

The halfling fades momentarily as he shrinks back from their presense. Hegathers his wits and nods agreement.

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Will save (1d20+11)[13]
Spot (1d20+23)[26]
Listen (1d20+23)[41]

[The Glyphstone]

Barien

<So long as the price is sufficient, I will agree to whatever is required.>

The lich again broadcasts to everyone in the immediate vicinity. He makes no reaction to the sudden appearance of the cloaked beings, nor gives any indication that their presence is in any way unusual.

mechanics:

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Undead immunity to fear.
Listen 1d20+11;1d20+9 → [16,11] = (27)
Spot 1d20+11;1d20+9 → [19,9] = (28)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1792088/

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Good... good...

The figures nod and the aura of power that surrounds them fades. You get the idea that if anyone had disagreed outright they would not have hesitated to cover their tracks in the usual way-by eliminating all difficulties.

Hear us out and if you don't agree with our plans you may go your own way-provided you allow us to erase your memory of this gathering. Says the first figure evenly.

Neverwinter is seeking to forge an alliance with the city of Luskan. More to the point, the Many-Starred Cloaks brotherhood of mages is seeking an alliance with the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan. If the two largest cities in the area pool their resources, the entire region will follow them. If the two most prominent gatherings of arcanists join forces, most spellcasters in the area will join as well. That will make either city as well as the entire area far too strong to attack.
The words of the second figure seem angry-it definitely does not want that alliance to happen.

But most important of all, the Many-Starred Cloaks have had an item of great importance in their hands for a long time-since before the city of Neverwinter was built. No mage in that gathering has ever had the knowledge to understand what they really have in their posession. The item in question has had its importance reduced throughout the ages-it is now no more than an old trinket the Many-Starred Cloaks will gift to the Arcane Brotherhood.
Unfortunately, some within the Brotherhood do have knowledge enough to recognise that item's origins, if not its importance. The Brotherhood must not be allowed to get that item. And naturally, we want that item for ourselves.
The third figure seems agitated, even worried, when mentioning the "item". What item could cause the three very powerful spellcasters before you to worry is anyone's guess.

[The Glyphstone]

<And is is any concern of ours as to this item we are sent to retrieve, either its form or function?>

[Whiplord]

"So, you wish us to destroy any possibility of an alliance between the mages, as well as retrieve this item for you."

Eclipse pauses, thinking carefully. He had been directed to come to this meeting. So, it seemed clear that at least for the time being, he should go along with his prospective employees wishes. It sounded dangerous, but Eclipse had nothing to lose. And, looking around the group, they seemed a capable group. Yes. He would do this. For now at least.

"We are agreeable to this. What are the exact terms though? We wish more details."