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"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively. assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."

"Gentlemen, Lady, this is Cryoleptus..." The man coughed softly. Hardblade threw him a dark look, then shook her head and turned back to the six Hunters. "Fine!" she huffed. "This is His Highness, Prince Cryoleptus, first of his name, Royal Vizier to Queen Alianna, and third in line for the Scarlet Throne." While she gave the man his title, Cryoleptus smirked. Giving the man a sour half-grin of her own, Hardblade continued. "The supercilious berk is also my cousin, and a right, royal pain in my arse."

The prince's smirk turned into a full blown grin, and he reached forward, patting the Guildmaster on her armour clad shoulder. "Love you too, cousin. Though, if you're done mocking me, perhaps we could explain to your people just what in the Nine Hells is going on? We do, after all, have a job to do." Unlike the Guildmaster, this man's voice was smooth as silk, his warm baritone like soothing honey dripping in the ear.

Making a rude gesture, Hardblade turned back forward and focused her full attention on the six. It was...disconcerting.

"All right. I'm sure you've all heard the rumours, about the eye tyrants on Oculus, and how we've been contracted to deal with them." She waited a moment for them to acknowledge her, then continued. "What you dont know...what only a select few know, is that for the last week, the royal council has been meeting to discuss the Empire's response. As of this morning, they've made a decision." Hardblade sighed, leaning forward and resting her hands, fingers splayed on her desk. A network of fine scars marred her right hand...the left was usually covered by a shield. After contemplating her hands for a moment, Hardblade looked up once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she widened her eyes fractionally at the prince, and he nodded.

Stepping forward, the man quickly caught the eyes of each of the Hunters. All present had heard stories of people that could effortlessly draw the attention of an entire crowd. People who were blessed with near limitless charisma, and who's direct attention was like facing into the sun. Cryoleptus was such a man. His sheer presence was nearly overwhelming, and his direct regard made each of you squirm, just a bit, despite your own power and accomplishments. Whatever else this man was, he seemed to embody the very ideal of Royal Power.

"There are those of us, the Queen included, who were not entirely happy about this result. She was convinced, reluctantly, that we could not allow this threat to hang over our heads, no matter the cost of lives, time, or treasure. The Armada begins it's preparations at first light." He made a vague, waving gesture. "Unfortunately, there are other considerations that make this a less than ideal solution. There are currently seven border skirmishes occurring on various fronts, the Hylaxi Centaur tribes are getting restless out on the Plains of Fire, and, oh yes, the Elves of Mithras Green have been getting...'twitchy' again." He grimaced. "Needless to say, the very last thing we need is to tie up more than half the Empire's Navy in what has the potential to be a very bloody war. Of course," he shrugged, "it's not like we can simply ignore this threat either. Oculus is only about a week's sail away. And while the Eye Tyrants dont fly quickly, they do fly effortlessly. If they are allowed to gain a firm foothold on the island, we are the closest landmass, should they choose to expand their territory. And knowing how those paranoid bags of gas feel about literally everyone and everything else...it doesn't take a genius to see that they'll eventually be coming for us."

Hardblade sighed softly, still staring at her hands. After a moment, her eyes hardened and she flicked her gaze up to meet her people. "That is where the Guild comes in. We've been officially contracted by the Empire to be the tip of the spear. Admiral Benniadas has secured our services to scout Oculus, with the stated goal of preparing the ground for the Armada's invasion. Unofficially..." she glanced at Cryoleptus, then returned her gaze to the six, "her Majesty wants us to go in and kill the bastards first, making a costly invasion unnecessary. The hope is, if the Hive Mother who must be controlling the other Beholders is killed, the rest will revert to their base nature and commence to destroying each other as rapidly as possible. A large group of Beholders, too busy fighting one another to worry about us 'lesser beings' is a much softer target that a group with a single, unified purpose and will to fight."

Once again, Cryoleptus took up the narrative. "Your goal will be to infiltrate the island, find and destroy the Hive Mother, or whatever is controlling the Beholders, then do whatever you can to disrupt and or destroy any remaining Beholders. You'll have roughly two to three weeks. That's how long it will take the Armada to gather, supply, and sail to Oculus. If you fail in this mission...assuming you survive, be prepared for a long, and likely bloody, war, since the Guild is already under agreement, as per the Royal Charter, to answer the Empire's call in times of Imperial emergency." Reaching out, he laid a hand gently on Hardblade's shoulder. "To that end, myself and a dozen other mages from the Academy, have agreed to create a very special Portal. One that should be able to pierce whatever dimensional interference surrounds Oculus, and allow you to teleport to the island. Unfortunately, this is an extremely taxing spell, and once cast, we wont be able to repeat the feat for at least a week, probably closer to ten days, depending on how exhausted we all are. So once you go..." he again swept them with his gaze, and like Hardblade's, the Princes orbs were hard as steel, "you're committed. We wont be able to pull you out for at least a week. We likely wont even be able to communicate, though one of our artificers might have solved that problem as well."

Hardblade captured their attention. "So, that's it folks. This is a 'do or die' mission for Queen and Country...and triple your usual fee." She snorted. "We are mercenaries, after all." The cousins shared a laugh, easing much of the tension that had sprung up over the last several minutes. Slapping her hand on the desk, the Guildmaster grinned ferally at her Hunters. This was the woman they knew and loved! Reaching out, she grabbed a scrollcase, it's ends capped in oiled leather and the whole thing waxed and waterproof. Removing one of the ends, she tipped the contents out onto her desk.

With a flick of her fingers she sent a trio of scrolls rolling over towards the Hunters. "Maps, two of them. One is the rendering from aerial scouts, taken about ten years ago...it's the most accurate map of Oculus available. The other is one that shows the various land features in rough geographical zones. It's broken down by color...light green for grasslands, dark green for forests, brown for a rather large saltwater swamp on the islands north side, and a white zone to represent the new mountain that the crew of the Julius spotted when they went to make landfall on the island last week. That last one," she gestures, "is a copy of the contract, which you all will need to sign before you leave...which is, by the way, at dawn. In about..." She glanced over at her clock, an exquisite mechanical contrivance of brass, oak, and silver that occupied pride of place on her mantle. "six and a half hours."

Turning back, she gestured at the maps. "I'm sure you have questions, but there's one other bit of business we need to deal with, after which, I'll turn the floor over to you." The Guildmaster's voice took on a new, more serious note, drawing the full attention of all six. "What I'm about to share is known to only a very few people, including the leadership of the Guild, a few of our Masters, and the Royal Family." Cryoleptus raised an eyebrow, but forebore additional comment.

"Oculus is not...exactly...all that it seems. While, yes, for as long as we've known about them, the Cyclops that make Oculus their home, have raised their sheep and produced some of the finest wool to be found the world over...it's what makes up your Guild cloaks, and makes them not only weather and waterproof, but provides their temperature regulating qualities...all non-magically, I might add...something which will probably come in handy very soon." She grinned, before continuing. "What's not so well known is that, in addition to wool, Oculus has another export, one a lot more secret, and infinitely more dangerous." Leaning over, she snagged a canvas bag from beside her feet and set it down on the desk with a sharp *THUD*, as well as the clink of metal. Resting her hand on the bag, Hardblade went on.

"Ages ago...not even the 'Clops know quite how far back...a meteor fell on the island, slamming into it's southern half, and created a very deep crater. This crater eventually filled with water, and became the main source of drinkable water on the island, other than a few small springs. Years...and again, noone knows how many...might have been centuries, perhaps millennia...a tribe of Cyclops made their way to Oculus and carved out a home for themselves. They took note of the lake, as you might imagine, and, in that noticing, they also saw that, despite it's size and rich plant life both in and around it, not a single animal made the lake home. Not a fish, nor a frog, nor an eel, or a bug. There are stories, among the Clan," she looked up from the bag, "that when their next generation began to be born, those that lived in close proximity to the lake were born sickly, and small, and many didn't live beyond a few years. Those farther out were healthier, but even then, some had defects, though most were comparatively harmless. Still, it was a bad omen, and the Clan seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately for them...or...fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the massive ships on which they'd sailed to reach the island had all been cannibalized to make their first settlements. They were stuck, until they could grow enough of the necessary hardwoods to build more, which would take at least another generation, possibly two."

Cryoleptus spoke up, once again grabbing everyone's attention. "Cyclops, however, are an inherently magical race, and, over the next couple of generations, seemed to adapt to whatever the poison in the lake was. Their children were once again born normal and healthy...even those who chose to stick to their homes near the lake, and they thrived. At some point, however, they conceived a desire to determine just what was the cause of the problem. What they found was...astonishing."

Setting her hand on the bag with a loud clink, Hardblade once again caught her audience. "What they found, was the meteor, half buried in the silt at the bottom of the lake, far, far down in it's depths. Now, among other things, Cylops are almost instinctively good at working with metal. A few of them managed to retrieve samples of the ore and bring it back to the surface, which, I'm given to understand, wasn't easy, since the metal was easily as hard as Black StarmetalAdamantine. But manage they did. They brought it back to their forges and began to work it. They also noticed that the metal was definitely the cause of what was harming their children and everything else, because it began to slowly kill their sheep, their pets, and every other living animal nearby...except the 'Clops. Somehow, in the course of a few generations, they'd developed an immunity to it. Eventually, they figured out how to work it into a state where it wouldn't kill everything in the vicinity. It was about this time that the Guild made contact with Oculus." And again, the Guildmaster grinned.

"About half a thousand years ago, a Guild tradeship was blown rather severely off course by a large storm. Limping, her sails shredded, and taking on far too much water, she spotted a long island in the distance. Having no idea where they were in relation to their old route, they went to put in at the island. They were shocked...and more than a bit wary...to discover an island full of Cyclops, but the Clan was surprisingly hospitable, and quickly helped them to put their ship to rights. The ship's captain, while dining with one of the heads of the Clan, noticed something rather strange about his tableware. See, the captain, a woman after my own heart, was rather paranoid. Recent events hadn't helped that, and so, even amongst friendlies, and potential allies, she kept her personal, magical defenses active. However, while cutting into her meat, her hand slipped, and she accidentally stabbed herself with her knife...and it shattered her defensive shields!" Hardblade chuckled. "I would have probably started swinging, paranoid wench that I am.  She was, apparently, more diplomatic than that, and asked for an explanation. Apparently, the clan head was mystified, as none of his people were spellcasters, and their shaman were forbidden, by holy vow, from using metal implements of any kind. Apparently they'd never encountered the phenomenon. By way of apology, the headman gave the ship's captain the offending blade, as well as several ingots of the metal. She brought them back to the main Guild Hall, where our master smiths and master alchemists began experimenting with what would, eventually, come to be called NullSteel."

Reaching down, the Captain unzipped the canvas bag on her desk. Reaching in, she pulled out several items, and began tossing them to the six Hunters.

"Nanaya..." She tossed him a single long, thin, slightly curved, sheathed blade. The handle was wrapped in some sort of scaled leather, a deep, crimson hide that also covered the entirety of the scabbard. The guard was some silvery-black metal, and the whole thing was accented with traceries of inlaid gold. The blade itself was matte black, exquisitely crafted, and razor sharp. "I think you'll find that that blade suits your hand and style. It belonged the aforementioned ship's captain, and she eventually left it to the Guild when she passed. It's been worn by several of our most senior Hunters over the years. Wield it with pride and honour."

She next picked up a pair of half gloves made from the same hide which adorned the sword. They were a complex series of straps, riveted together as strategic places, and looked rather complicated to put on. What was truly striking, however, were the thin, needle sharp claws that were affixed to the tips of each finger, made of the same matte black metal as the sword. Master XanthusAnother Master Hunter who would shapeshift to various half-animal forms and rip apart his foes with his bare (or, apparently, not so bare) hands. before he retired. He entrusted them to my care and asked that I find a worthy successor to them. Wield them with pride and honour."

Looking at the desk, Hardblade selected one of four leather pouches that remained. This one was cylindrical, rather than rounded, and made of the same crimson hide. She tossed the bundle to Niyel. "Syrris, these should suit you. Healer Frellis uses them as part of her healing rituals, as well as for disrupting some of the nastier curses we encounter on a daily basis. She said that you should have more than enough to complete "this hare-brained mission"." Hardblade made finger quotes to emphasize the point, and grinned. "Use them with pride and honour."

Grabbing up two of the remaining pouches, each identical and about the size of a large grapefruit, she tossed them to Monique and Devlin. Masters Heinliech and ErebaunThe Guild's Master Smith and Alchemist, respectively.assure me that the metal itself is inert and "shouldn't" cause any issues. They claim they've experimented successfully, but, frankly, all this alchemy isn't my schtick, so I...and you...will have to take their word for it. They told me to tell you that, should you add a bit..."Just a pinch of the powder" were their words, to your flashbangs, or your splash formulae, they should work to disrupt magic in anything that is caught up in the splash zone, but wont interfere with the items normal functionality otherwise. Erebaun is of the opinion that this might even disrupt, at least for a moment, the Tyrant's eye rays, though Cryoleptus and our own Master Wizard aren't entirely sure. I guess you two get to be the lucky ones to experiment. Use them with pride and honour." She gave the two scholar Hunters a half amused, half grim smile, then turned to Cal, pulling a long, slim, wrapped bundle from her desk.

"Speaking of experiments...Cal, this last one is for you. And no, I didn't mean that like it probably sounded." She locked eyes with the man and shrugged half apologetically. "The problem is, your biology is...so unique, as are your methods of utilizing your powers, that there was no way for Master Erebaun to make any kind of infusion that would work with your abilities but that wouldn't also cancel them out.  She's been practically ripping her hair out trying to come up with something, but has been, so far, unsuccessful.  So, instead, she sends this, with her regards.  Unwrapping the bundle, Hardblade handed the weapon to the young man.  The staff was six feet long, made from some exotic hardwood, and carved with glyphs and runes all along it's length.  At several places along it's length was a thin band of night black metal, and each end was capped in the stuff as well.

That is her personal weapon, one that she's carried for nearly a century now.  She said that 'until (she) can figure out a way to make this damn fool formulae work with what that 'damn flying eyeball did to that poor boy', he can just whack them with her stick!'"  Hardblade smirked.  "She was rather irritated.  I think she's taken a shine to you.  When this is all said and done, I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you to apprentice with her."  Hardblade once again gave her savage grin. "Use it with pride and honour Cal."

Setting the sack aside, Hardblade rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers. "As to what the weapons do...as I said, they disrupt magic. On their own, the weapons will cleave through weak to moderate magical defenses, disrupt active spells, and, if you're good enough to get it in the way of incoming magic, there's a chance it will disrupt that as well. In the hands of spellcasters...which is one of the reasons you all were chosen for this task, by the by...the ability to disrupt magic becomes more powerful. Because while NullSteel absolutely will not accept enchantments on it in the traditional sense, it does channel and ground magic beautifully. Feed it a little mana, and it will cut through active magic like butter. Just be careful!" She gave each of them a hard look before continuing. "Using them too often will drain you of mana just like spellcasting, so be careful not to over extend yourselves. Now..."

She once more glanced at her cousin, then turned back to the Hunters. "If you have any questions, Cryoleptus and I will do our best to answer them. As I said, you have just a little over six hours before you have to leave, and you'll need to be back here absolutely no later than half an hour before dawn. So if you need to run any errands, you can do them after we're through. But if you're late, I'll skin you myself...understand??" She waited for them each to acknowledge her, then waved expansively, leaning back in her chair. "The floor is yours."