Chapter 10: Eye of the Storm

[Jeff]

Team K

When Streko drops his coin into the donation box, he doesn't hear it clatter into a hollow space. It make no sound at all.

The elven priest does not seem to take notice of either Kal or Streko at the moment.

[Ken]

Team B

Belarin yells in pain as the arrows strike and the fire sears his skin. Staggering in the mass of shadows still gathered around him, he summons his will -- and his anger -- to get out of danger first and seek vengeance second. And oddly, along with the painful burns, he feels a chill, as though the shadows are reacting to his thoughts approvingly. Perhaps it's delerium or shock. The tittering voices in his head are quiet.

He makes his way to the closest spot of cover and, with a thought and another chilling wave across his body, extinguishes the black candle. Then he sags against a wall. Anxiety rises as he realizes how difficult it is to breathe.

________________________________
Move: Move to the closest area that can provide cover, whether it's the side of Shorak's building or somewhere else. If a double move is required, then use that instead of...
Standard: Belarin uses his Second Wind.
Minor: Belarin expends another healing surge to extinguish the candle. He retains concealment from Shadow Walk.

[Jeff]

Condign

"'Fire eyes,'" Ajdalarr repeats with a chuckle. "Yes, I've heard that before. They haven't met many of us."

And a dog, if truth be told. But a warforged? I am afraid you have been misinformed. I knew one at one time, back in Sharn, but he did not accompany me into Stormreach."

The woman reaches back and plucks something hanging off the wall. She lifts it up for him to see. A spyglass, very much like one Condign saw used on the Merrow Down. "They call this place"—she thumps the ground—"Crow Rock, out of superstition. But I like to think of it more like the Crow's Nest." She returns Condign's smile, but again there's nothing sneaky in it, just nonchalance.

"You have been in Stormreach for some time, and you have made a name for yourself. Fire Eyes, I believe you are called. A woman of authority, you are accustomed to being listened to. When events are happening here, you are at the center of the storm. Intelligence and fighting are your strengths, and you will wield either skilfully to achieve your ends. And like most of us"--he gives her a nod--"you are also looking for something. Something dangerous. Something that you cannot achieve alone. You are truly a woman to contend with."

Her smile widens into a grin on a couple of Condign's points. Then she returns with: "I will tell you this much: you shouldn't hang up your sword and hire yourself out as an inquisitive. The only 'name' I have made for myself is among the rabble of the Harbor. And I have very little 'authority'..."

Her voice trails off and she stares out at the horizon, east, out to sea. Then she looks back at him. "Look...Condign. I invited you here, so I will not waste your time. I serve a seer named Orvak. He is one of us, and has led many of his people beyond the land of our birth. I was born in Fal'lrg, too, yes, but was taken by my parents away when I was a small child. My parents followed Orvak as well.

"He is the only one doing anything for our kind. He severed ties with the Carrion Tribes and led many tieflings out of the Wastes. Those refugee years were not kind to us and the Five Nations were not ready to accept us yet. They were concerned only with their great war, and Orvak did not want us to get tangled up in that conflict.

"Even to those who knew of us, we are as gypsies. Not to be trusted. Orvak speaks for us. And those who enslave or destroy us....we destroy them first. It is that simple. We came here at last, as it is one of the few places where persecution is...minimal. We are not the most frightening thing to the humans, elves, and dwarves who walk these streets. Imagine that."

She seems to have more to say, but she stops and waits for a reaction.

_____________________________

Diplomacy is for trying to specifically convince someone to do something. It's not really for general nice-making.

[Darren]

Team K

Kal lifts one eyebrow as Streko speaks to him. "Bless that Halfling's earnestness," he thinks. He opens the opposite eye, looking for the elven priest, then closes it with a sigh when he realizes his devotion has caught no notice. Unclasping his hands, he rises to his feet and approaches the elf.

"The dragon motif here is quite beautiful," he says, gesturing towards the statues. "Why was it chosen instead of the more common interpretations?"

[Jeff]

Team K

The elf nods his head respectfully at Kal. "My lord, the Sovereigns have many forms, but their depiction as dragons is more common than you may think. It may suit the people of the Five Nations to picture them as humanoid reflections of themselves, and that is an assumption the gods would forgive. But it is more than mere depiction. The Sovereigns are the children of Siberys and Eberron—themselves the first dragons."

He gestured to the temple around him. "Here we call them the Wyrms Ascendant. But they are the same gods you already know." He smiles over at Streko, too. "Welcome, friend. I hope you find the fortune and favor of your goddess here as well. We are very fond of Olladra."

[Darren]

Team K

Kal shows interest in the elf's words, and if it is feigned it is very difficult to tell. "And how were the dragons chosen? That is to say, how was it decided what type of dragon would represent which of the Host? I assume each is depicted by one of the various colors of dragon, right?"

[Jeff]

Team K

The elf's eyes shine with interest at hearing such questions. He nods. "It's impossible to say, of course. Before the many species of dragons were common in the world, it was they who set the mold. When the foul children of Khyber sought to dominate the world, the Sovereigns ultimately bound them in their prisons. For this, the Sovereigns were elevated by their slumbering parents—Eberron and Siberys—into the heavens. It is to them we must aspire to make proud. Their color has meaning, but you must remember that they came first. The black dragon that we depict Olladra as...it would be more correct to suggest that black dragons owe their ancestry to her."

The elf chuckles. "I apologize for the lecture." He extends a hand. "I am Cael Duryn, and I am simply glad you are showing an interest." His eyes stray momentarily to Kal's dragonmark, then he looks to Streko.

"We followers of the Wyrms Ascendant are simply Vassals of the Host, just as you know them." He shrugs. "With a few differences, I suppose, that some see as decadent but we know is spiritual as much as it is material." He gestures around, and you think he's referring to the extravagance of this temple.

He starts to lead you away from the dwarf he was speaking with before. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

[Darren]

Team K

Kal takes the elf's hand and allows himself to be led away. "Cael Duryn, I am Kalarian d'Deneith, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I must admit, I find all of this to be quite fascinating, and it is truly wonderful to meet someone so knowledgeable in these subjects. I, sadly, have been somewhat remiss in my studies. I have learned more about Olladra from my friend here in the last two months than I have known in a lifetime. It is....humbling." Kal bows his head with these words, but looks up from beneath his brows to gauge the priest's reaction.

"I must confess. I am truly fascinated by Draconic prophecy, and so these depictions of the Sovereign hold particular interest for me. In my recent studies, bronze dragons have become quite prominent, but I am unaware of any of the Host have been depicted as such...?"

[Jeff]

Team K

Cael eyes narrow just a little. "A very specific point of interest you have, my lord." He seems doubtful of this. "In any case, you certainly have found the right place to seek answers. I can only promise that we will explore them."

He steers Kal and Streko over to a shrine where a dragon statue sits tall on a slab of stone carved to resemble a grassy plain. Sculpted of brown stone, there is a metallic sheen to it, clearly made to look bronze. Its shape is powerful, yet decidedly feminine, its head a mask of armor and graceful horns.

Streko recognizes the dragon as Arawai, the Sovereign of Love and Life, the goddess of fertility, crops, abundance, plant-life, and all the natural world.

"Arawai is believed to be the first bronze dragon," Caer says simply. "Has something troubled you lately, my lord, that would have you seek her out? If I may ask, what kindled your recent interest in prophecy?"

___________________

In a circumstance like this, even an NPC gets to make an Insight check to see how genuine he thinks your character is being.

[Darren]

Team K

Kal stares up at the statue. "Arawai," he says, as if trying out the taste of the name. "Arawai...."

Kal is burning. He can feel the flesh peeling away from his muscles, bone blackening in the heat. It is unbearable, and yet for the first time he feels alive. Reborn.

"Arawai," he says again, not realizing he is speaking aloud.

With a slight shake of his head, Kal returns his attention to Caer. "There was a story my mother used to tell me," he begins. "She would tell of a man who was lost in the wilderness. He had been a wastrel, offering little to society and caring less for those around him. It was his hubris which caused him to be lost without provisions. For days this man wandered without food, without sustenance, and gradually he lost hope that there was purpose to carrying on. He stumbled and he fell and as he lay on his back, the sky above him brightened with a coppery light. He tried to shield his eyes, but he lacked even the strength to raise his hands and the light was simply too bright. He closed his eyes, and then he heard a voice that was so loud in his ears, he thought it must be his imagination. 'Be reborn,' the voice said, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the form of a great bronze dragon above him. The dragon opened its mouth, and the man was consumed with terror as he was bathed in the fire of the dragon's breath. Gradually, the fear gave way to a new sensation. He knew he was dying, but he did not care. It was simply his old life, his life without purpose which was dying. He was being reborn." Kal stops, seemingly lost in his story. Then he shrugs. "That is always where the story would end. As a child, I wondered what happened to the man after he was reborn. As I grew older, I became cynical and simply assumed the man had just died, and that rebirth was really a myth." Kal looks at Streko, then up at the statue in front of him. "These days, I'm no longer sure what I believe."

______________
Kal will see how drawn in Caer is before pursuing any other questions....

The best stories have a touch of truth in them.

[Joe]

Team K

The elf chuckles. "I apologize for the lecture." He extends a hand. "I am Cael Duryn, and I am simply glad you are showing an interest." His eyes stray momentarily to Kal's dragonmark, then he looks to Streko.

"We followers of the Wyrms Ascendant are simply Vassals of the Host, just as you know them." He shrugs. "With a few differences, I suppose, that some see as decadent but we know is spiritual as much as it is material." He gestures around, and you think he's referring to the extravagance of this temple.

Streko bows to Cael. "I couldn't agree with you more, Cael. I am Streko d'Jorasco and it is an honor to both meet you and to learn from you."

He steers Kal and Streko over to a shrine where a dragon statue sits tall on a slab of stone carved to resemble a grassy plain. Sculpted of brown stone, there is a metallic sheen to it, clearly made to look bronze. Its shape is powerful, yet decidedly feminine, its head a mask of armor and graceful horns.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? Olladra and Arawai share some commonalities, it would seem, at least when Olladra is in a pleasant frame of mind, so to speak."

"Has something troubled you lately, my lord, that would have you seek her out? If I may ask, what kindled your recent interest in prophecy?"

Streko glances over at Kal and arches his eyebrow, a slight grin inching upwards.

[Dave B.]

Shorak hugs the wall as he moves closer to Belarin. He does not want to throw his weapon into the crowd, so he is forced to let the strangers flee. "How long do you suppose the archers will stay on the roof? I expect the flames should be reaching them soon." He says to Belarin.

Hearing the loud bang coming from the front door, he calls out, "Redoubt! Beware of archers on the roof above."

If Belarin can reach the wall of the building with Shorak, he will help bind his wounds.

[Brian]

Condign

Condign pointedly ignores the spyglass. He didn't lie about Adamant, per se. He simply related the truth in a manner that fit his circumstances. She seemed to understand and was fine with it.

"It is refreshing to hear of someone helping our kind," he says, rubbing his chin with a calloused thumb. "To be judged by one's appearance . . . well, it is something I am familiar with. But you have traveled so far--do you think you have finally found a home here in Stormreach?"

[Jeff]

Team K[/b]

"That is quite a parable your mother used to tell," Cael says at length. "Was she a religiously a woman? For us, dragons—real or dreamed about—have religious significance. That your story does not end happily or indeed at all is unusual. Perhaps it is a metaphor for life. It is also curious in that bronze dragons possess a breath like thunder and lifting. Seldom is it fire. This complicates the tale..."

The elf bows his head to the statue of Arawai the bronze dragon. "I would like to think that the Sovereign of Life would  say that the man faces a choice. Blasted by fire or stricken with lightning,  he has only two: submit to death, as is the natural order of such an event. Or rise up again, in defiance of death. Prophecy, if he is born to it, can be stronger than the power of death."

"What do you think?"

_______________

It's easy to get wrong, I know, but it's Cael, not Caer.

[Jeff]

Condign[/b]

"Home?" Ajdalarr stifles a laugh. It's a bitter sound. "No. Stormreach is no home. It's the ruin of something older and greater with some paint thrown over it. It's a pirate's wet dream."

She shakes her head. "We are here for another purpose. I would endure this city for years if I had to, but I'd never raise—" 

Ajdalarr stops there.

She redirects the conversation. "Would you be interested in meeting Orvak, Condign? Right now I'm the only one of us who knows you—another tiefling from the Wastes—are here. If you wish to keep your anonymity, and would tether your sword to humans and their wars, so be it. I will say nothing about you. We will leave you alone.

"On the other hand, if you would like to meet him, I know that he would be pleased to meet you. We need all the minds, and swords, we could use. Things are about to get...interesting." She pauses. "And I for one would like to know why you left Fah'lrrg. One simply does not walk out of the Wastes—or survive long, for that matter. I would like to have the opportunity to learn."

[Darren]

Team K

"I would agree, Cael. Are there not many prophecies that involve a man dying and being reborn to a greater destiny? Is it truly the man that dies, or simply the man's old life? Yes, prophecy can be quite powerful..."

Kal looks down at the dragonmark on his arm. He hold is up for Cael to see. "You can see why draconic prophecy might interest me." He smiles at the elf. "I've recently been led to believe that there is some importance to bronze dragons, particularly. The story was vague, but it made reference to a coin with the image of a bronze dragon on it. Have you heard anything like this?"

______________________
Oops. Was it lightning Kal got blasted by in his dream? I should look that up again....

[Dave W.]

Team B
Adamant throws his shoulder into the door hitting with a force that rattles his joint pins. The door protests loudly, but doesn’t give in.
 
The warforged places a three-fingered hand on the door, “Impressive”. He takes a few steps back and readies to try again.
 
Wait, he thinks, processing the situation, Shorak came down these stairs and though it’s getting hard to see, he’s clearly not here. I don’t believe that the drow can do that disappearing trick that Belarin does, and he clearly didn’t break down this door, so he must have found another way out.
 
Adamant looks into the open apartment, The other option is that he didn’t make it out at all but both possibilities lead me this way I think.
 
As he starts moving toward the open apartment door, he hears Shorak’s voice drifting in through the apartment window warning of flaming arrows. With relief he calls back, loud and deep, “I believe a mere arrow of fire would be an improvement over my current situation. Where is Be... Nerrin? Is he with you?” He moves through the apartment, still vigilant for the reappearance of the imp.
 
------------

Not sure if “Strength check fails” means he’s made no progress; I suspect it’s just that the DC is higher than 21. But if I can’t make it work with a roll of 15, I think it’s time to seek another path!
 
At Beginning of Round:
• no one Challenged
 
Minor Action: n/a 
 
Move Action: Move again, into the apartment, find a window and hop out if possible.
 
Standard Action: If necessary, more movement to get to the window and out.
 
At End of Round:
• no one Challenged
 

[Dave B.]

Team B

Hearing Adamant's query, Shorak replies loudly - "Nerrin is hurt pretty bad, but he lives. We're staying clear of the archers."

[Jeff]

Team B

"Where is Be... Nerrin? Is he with you?” Adamant says. He heads for the open apartment, ignoring the flames around him, and thunders into it. He sees an open window across the window. He hurries and starts climbing.

Belarin extinguishes the candle, his fingers chilled to the bone for having held it tightly for the last half minute. He leans heavily against the side of the building, laboring to catch his breath and steel himself against the pain.

He hears the men on the roof shouting something to one another. It sounds hurried, panicked, or simply just angry.

"Nerrin is hurt pretty bad," Shorak tries to shout back to Adamant, wherever he is. "...but he lives. We're staying clear of the arch—"

• Belarin uses his Second Wind and heals 11 hit points.

And then two things happen so fast it almost seems slow:

Adamant bursts out of the window on the west side of the building, sees the fallen archer nearby, and begins to round the corner. Smoke rises from the woody parts of the warforged's body and his composite metal plating looks like it would be rather hot to touch. He spots Shorak and a patch of shadow that might be Belarin, both huddled by the wall on the south (front) side of the building.

Then, before he can say or do anything, before anyone can even grasp what's happening, fire and shattered masonry roars overhead and blocks out your view of the sky. An apartment on the third floor—and directly above you (directly above Shorak's own apartment, in fact)—is exploding in a massive fireball. It sends a shockwave of memory, fire, and pain through your minds:

Belarin can't help but remember the burning airship over Aundair...wasn't that when he met Condign, stepping out of living flames like a devil?

Adamant recalls the incendiary blasts of the Last War, when arcane artillery sprayed the battlefield, destroying armor, mounts, men. Lives. Body parts rained down during the worst of those....

Shorak remembers all too swiftly the meteors of rock and flame that scoured the Arus'tar, spells hurled by Sulatar shamans and their very large allies....

The memories hit almost as hard as the blocks of stone, the ash, and the flames themselves. The world is temporarily drowned out by the sound and the smoke.

• Fire deals 8 damage -5 (disk) = 3 fire damage to Adamant
• Shorak takes 10 damage and is dazed.
• Belarin takes 14 damage and is dazed.
• Shorak is bloodied.

Adamant stands clear of the fallen debris and has the best view of the destruction. The cloud of smoke makes it difficult to see, but the warforged is pretty sure there's a gaping hole in the building where the front half of the third floor used to be. He sees a blackened body, still on fire, lying a good twenty feet out from the building in the street.

As Shorak and Belarin struggle to see and hear again—they can each other, Shorak was just about to help Belarin when the explosion happened—Adamant sees that the street has almost completely cleared of passers-by. People are watching from a distance. But he does see a few ne'er-do-wells emerging slowly from nearby alleys, cautiously approaching, with daggers drawn, the two dead or wounded cloaked men. Looters and opportunists.

____________________________

Although Shorak and Belarin are technically dazed (can only take a standard, a move, or a minor actions each round), we're out of combat mode for now.

[Brian]

Condign

Condign listens to Ajdalarr, his curiosity piqued by her offer and a desire to know what she means by 'things are about to get interesting.' But he had other obligations, and he would not abandon his friends for anything.

"Thank you," he says. "But I will have to refuse. I do have other obligations to cannot be set aside. I appreciate your graciousness, though. And it has been refreshing to speak with another of our kind--it has been some time." He retrieves his dagger. "Now, if there is nothing else . . . ?"

[Ken]

Team B

RRRRRRINNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

For long seconds, that's all Belarin can hear. He feels as though he's teleported straight into Condign's Demon Wastes. He is battered and burned. Blood seeps from multiple wounds, staining Nerrin's new clothes. He sees Shorak and Adamant. The drow is badly injured, too, and seems to be talking to him, but Belarin can't hear it over the cacophonous ringing in his ears. Adamant may be saying something, too, but it's hard to tell with warforged.

Suddenly, the voices in his head pierce the haze. You're going to die! You're going to die! comes the sing-song chant. Here come the thieves and scoundrels! You die among your feckless kin, Would-Be Consort Who Plays with Shadows!

Not today, my friends, he replies. Deep down, Belarin knows that the voices are actually trying to help him regain his focus. Nothing is ever straightforward when dealing with the fey. The ringing stops, althought the sounds of the "real world" are only slightly less unpleasant.

He places a hand on Shorak's shoulder and looks at him, then Adamant. "We need to go. Now," he croaks. He spits blood out of his mouth. "The Guard will be on their way, and we're in no shape to deal with that. Shorak, where can we go to rest?"

___________________________________
At the earliest opportunity, Belarin will use two more healing surges.

[Jeff]

Condign

Ajdalarr rises stiffly from her chair and keeps her eyes on the open sea. "I expect your shield will be where you left it," she says, disappointment clear in her voice.

Before he can say anything, she adds very softly: "That was a swift decision."

[Jeff]

Team K

Kal:

"The story was vague, but it made reference to a coin with the image of a bronze dragon on it. Have you heard anything like this?"

"A coin?" Cael repeats. "Well, it is a dragon's nature—and, we are instructed as well—to hoard treasure. And treasure usually consists of coins. Many, many coins."

[Dave B.]

Team B

Shorak tries to shake his head clear and tears stream from his eyes. Whether from the smoke or from the loss of his adopted home, is hard to tell. Probably both.

It's been a while since he's suffered such injuries. He was starting to feel invulnerable. He won't be making that mistake anytime soon. As he slowly rises with Belarin, both of them leaning on each other for support, he nods at Belarin/Nerrin. "There's an inn not too far. It is safe enough and we won't be bothered with unwanted questions as to our current state." He looks to Adamant, waving for him to join them. "Redoubt, we are leaving." He stumbles away from the ruined building, leading the way to...

I assume Shorak does know of such a place that he has described?

Yes, please, healing surges as soon as possible, please.

[Darren]

Team K

Apr 4, 2012 11:44:28 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Team K

Kal:

"The story was vague, but it made reference to a coin with the image of a bronze dragon on it. Have you heard anything like this?"

"A coin?" Cael repeats. "Well, it is a dragon's nature—and, we are instructed as well—to hoard treasure. And treasure usually consists of coins. Many, many coins."

"I must admit that history was never my strongest subject. I am unfamiliar with ancient races. Is there now, or was there ever, a society which used an image such as this," he gestures towards the statue of Arawai, "upon a bronze coin?"

[Dave W.]

Team B
Adamant steps through the window and starts towards his friends. He considers for a moment, This is the point where a fleshy creature would draw a deep breath of clear ... WOMMMMMMMPF!!

Adamant's consideration of the differences between his race and the others is wiped away by memories of Arcane shells. He drops down into a very low crouch, trying to present a smaller target to the magical shrapnel.

It only takes a fleet moment to realize that this is not then. "Belarin! Shorak! Are you alright?" As the smoke clears, he sees they are not. Rushing towards them he sheaths his sword again and quickly moves the shield to his back.

Belarin mutters something about fleeing and Shorak offers a destination. "We should not stay to report what happened?" Looking at the resolve of his two friends, the warforged shakes his head, "very well, but we will need some assistance." His eyes glow more brightly as he begs for intercession, "Lady! Your servant again begs Your aid for his friends. And may we be placing our feet on the righteous path."

As Adamant helps steady his friends, his hands glow with the light of the sun where they touch the human and drow. But this heat is a healing heat.

"If we are to go, let us go swiftly." Adamant follows Shorak, muttering quietly, "When do we get to go to the city where the guard isn't corrupt and incompetent? It would simply be refreshing..."

------------

The Disk goes inert until my next long-rest.

Two minor actions (yes I know, we're not in rounds...) to lay hands on Belarin and Shorak. Adamant spends the Healing Surges, not his friends, and each gets back their surge value +4.

That's two of the three Lay on Hands that Adamant can do today. He's got one left.

I'm really burning through resources here, but it seems necessary.

[Jeff]

Team K

Cael looks at Kal's dragonmark with academic interest, but no real surprise. "Oh yes. For millennia, Eberron shook with the influence of demons, dragons..." He gestures toward the doors of the temple and beyond. "...even giants. It was they living the Prophecy, or trying to defy it. But when dragonmarks began to appear on the skin of the humanoid races, the symbols much resembling some runic markings of the Prophecy, it did seem as though they were meant to play a part, too. With all our wars...it is very difficult to say what that might be."

Kal:

"I must admit that history was never my strongest subject. I am unfamiliar with ancient races. Is there now, or was there ever, a society which used an image such as this," he gestures towards the statue of Arawai, "upon a bronze coin?"

Cael nods. "The kingdom of Galifar and all its various nations have always minted in copper, silver, gold, and platinum. Bronze, however, had seen some use during the reign of Dhakaan. Some coins have survived that ancient age. Dragons were sometimes depicted upon such coins." The elf looks way, seeming to search his own memories and studies.

"If I recall correctly, Agra Khuul was the goblin name for Arawai during the Empire of Dhakaan. She was revered as the matron goddess of the harvest, survival, and children. When not shown as a matronly goblin herself, she was rendered as a serpent or dragon in bronze."

Cael looks at Kal squarely. "I feel as though your questions are more than mere curiosity. Is there something we can help you with directly, my lord?"

He glances at Streko for some guidance, too.

[Brian]

Condign

Sliding his dagger into its sheath, Condign says, "I do not know what you were expecting. We have just met, and already you wish for me to meet this seer. And your words imply a desire to have me join in your cause." Following her gaze out the window, he adds, "Tell me, if I were to ask you to join with me, to abandon your plans and hopes for yourself and your kin, to leave behind your seer and place your entire existence in the hands of a stranger, would you so quickly follow?" He shakes his head. "I think not. Your passions are here. And mine lie elsewhere. That is neither good nor bad--it just is."

He turns to face her. "It is nothing personal, I assure you."

[Jeff]

Condign

Ajdalaar picks up her curved knife and leads Condign over to the rope ladder again. Her voice is borderline venomous. "I did not ask you to join anything. I only said he would be interested to meet with you. You could have brought your precious bodyguards with you."

She points with her blade. "Go, then. I will waste no more of your time. Safe journeys."

[Darren]

Team K

Kal give Cael a warm smile. "I assure you, I do not try to dissemble with you. It is true, I do seek something in particular, and perhaps you have guessed it from my questions thus far. I'm looking for a coin, one the color of a bronze dragon and bearing its image. Unfortunately, I have no further information than that. I appreciate the information you have given me, but I don't wish to impose upon you too far. I am grateful for any help you can give me in finding that which I have been tasked to find."