View source for BW29 - Milai


== Vision ==


“My Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure?” A gruff, smoky, male voice broke through Milai’s fitful night ''{Rantor}''. She recalled instantly the nightmare of imprisonment within Tun Mi Lung’s lair. The rasping hiss, the constant interrogation, the intricate weaving of lies and half-truths, the pain…  

“You have been on the Prime for many years now and, as we have no doubt you are aware, we place increasing importance in that Plane – particularly with the great change fast approaching.” This woman’s voice ''{Tiamat}'' was only marginally less threatening than the first, deeper tone.  Milai shivered involuntarily. 

“Indeed…” came the quiet, deep, wary response.  Milai could almost smell the sulphurous belch of swirling, yellow-grey gas that pervaded the dark before her eyes. She was only just aware of the presence of two immense beasts, whose form was unclear beyond the repugnant vapour.  

The reply was strange, not so much in content but in delivery.  Milai thought she heard many voices all saying the same thing but in slightly different pitch, tempo and rhythm, “We are sure you are also aware of the competing forces that have begun to emerge – all with their own parts to play.”

A period of silence ensued, before being broken by a short, emotionless statement, “Of course…”   

The response was not so ponderous, “as one that was once of more mortal dominion, you do understand the relevance of your unique situation?” they contested.

“Yes…” the disembodied, male voice confirmed firmly. Milai felt a brief affinity with the creature uttering the monosyllabic reply – where was this going? 

“Then what counsel would you offer to our kind?” demanded the female, or was that females?

Again a pause for thought, before the grating, hissing, steaming breath passed over his larynx to intone its carefully considered response, “that things are far from certain…True, the great change appears close; however, it is far from settled.  Our dominion is not assured, particularly with such strength remaining in those that would bring about the destruction of the Prime.”

It was the females’ turn to reflect.  There was much to consider here and she must tread carefully, “and where would you stand, my old friend?” they asked.

This time the response was immediate, as if oft rehearsed, “with our kind…Provided, of course, that the writes were properly agreed.”

This was nothing new, the argument was so well rehearsed the answer barely needed consideration; however, what if he could offer something different this time… “We have heard your pleas through the ages and now can offer you what it is you seek, provided you support the change in a manner that pleases us.”  Milai sensed the intent, though not all the meaning.  ‘She’ (they) has (have) to placate ‘him’, but why?

“You know that I will,” he confirms, but his curiosity is piqued, “who is it that you have chosen?”

“Well, my friend,” she pauses as if considering something before her voice is joined by others in a response, “it will no longer be you.” They say in unison, “It was not a difficult choice in the end, given your circumstances.”

Irritated now (as if he didn’t know what she would decide), his response was terse, “I realise that;” he was not interested and wished to make her uneasy, “if not me, who?”

Equally irritated, “that remains to be seen…” the women snapped, before slowly revealing more, “and is largely dependent on the presiding power.”  More measured, a single voice continues, “Your former ally dwindles ''{Malor?}'', his plaything lost {Guerin?}.  The two great evils ''{Orcus & Demogorgon}'' walk freely and carve up what remains, unopposed for now.  Yet, you are right, we must tread carefully – I would not wish to repeat past mistakes.  What of this new Counsel?”

The last question seems to throw him.  He stammers and more smoke, accompanied by swiftly decaying sparks, billows across Milai’s vision. “They grow in power it is true, yet they could not confront me, or those of the lowest Planes for that matter.”

The message sinks in – it is not entirely unexpected.  He clearly has an ego.  However, not entirely convinced, the single, lighter female’s voice continues, “And what of the oldest race?” ''{Drow/Inwe}''

“Hmmm…” he considers, “that is less clear.”  More smoke and, this time, enough light to see the enormous flared nostrils from which the gasses originate, “she moves in many different ways, none predictable.  For example, she turned away from the certain destruction of her most hated enemy for the sake of propping up her weakling ally – why?” ''{I think this refers to Inwe drawing troops from Fountainver to support Malor}''

“Why indeed?” came the instant retort, as if she had long considered this issue with little real success.  

He presses on, “she seems entrenched in the work of her beloved mistress ''{Hel}'' often at the expense of her influence on this Plane.”

Another pause and the smoke subsides somewhat, “Hmm, or are we missing something?” she asked rhetorically.

“I have given that much thought,” he hissed. “Whilst she is undoubtedly bright, she does not possess an intellect equal to mine.  No, she can see little beyond her mistress’ most immediate desires.”

With a good dose of sarcasm she asks, “Really? What of her success with the dark arts? Her massed forces, including a significant fleet and the control of all ports in Everinstar? Her alliances and networks that span the Prime and reach far beyond?”

Somewhat taken aback by the degree of cynicism, the male voice is incredulous, “You obviously consider her to be a greater threat than I have considered, my Lady.”

“It would seem so,” the females respond in a similarly condescending tone; he clearly has a poor grasp of what is important to them.  “It is not just her overt diplomacy that concerns me; what do you make of her entreat with Hatori?”

“Of course, my Lady, she understands (as you do) the power play across the inner planes.” Another great belch of dark smoke, “they struggle, do they not, in their own preparation for the great change? Perhaps she plays Earth against Water, Fire against Air.” Without interruption, his confidence grows, “Hatori is the key interlocutor – advocating for Earth in the Watery Realms.  He is naturally concerned that a Sea Elf is one of the key first born on the Prime.  Her death would have been of great utility to both his master and hers…”

Angered by the lack of any new analysis, the single female voice snaps, “which is why her actions at Findorsvelt are even less understandable!”

Unconcerned, yet wreathed in plumes of grey, his response is calm and measured, “Unless, she cares little for the inner worlds and plays them as she would her own puppets.  Indeed, what could they do to her, holed up in Morgrad?”

“True,” the voices pause as if they consider together the meaning, before pronouncing, “then she is more of a threat for that, is she not?”

Now he has them, “why, my Lady? Is she not the one they would prefer to lead them through the Change?”

A long pause, only interrupted by his occasional rasping breath; he knows when to stay quiet and they thank him for that.  Give them time to consider, even though he knows what they will decide.  He has been around for far too long to be sidelined – they need him.

“Get close to her my old friend,” she orders. One, clear voice firm and confident continues, “she will suspect, of course, your motives; perhaps you should offer her assurances and align yourself against her enemy on the Prime?  Let her have free passage through your dominion and beyond.  Grant her my favour, provided she remains true to the cause on the Prime and restricts her meddling further afield.” 

“And if she is not convinced?” the male voice questions.

“Then she may consult with us more directly.  I think she fears your influence enough to accept terms.  Don’t you?”

Caught off guard, “Perhaps…”

“Teach her the summoning then,” the voices demand.

Another pause, “my Lady, she knows most and,” he considers carefully his words, “I have to admit that we have lost the lore to finalise the act.”

Another long pause broken only by the staccato rasp of his breath, “Really?” they ask in genuine astonishment, “You?”  

Another pause, both sides appearing unwilling to fill the void in case they accepted the reality, “I thought that she had completed the process and the one that brought you to the Prime, now works with her…” ''{Revern}''

Bluntly the male voice clarifies, “Not true, he was slain.”

“Ahh…” the tension rises yet a notch higher, “And the codicil?” ''{Elorand's Book}''

What is the point in denying it, “Lost…” he states, simply.

The cold, lone female voice mocks, “Oh. To whom?”

“The upstarts,” his response equally mocking in tone but somehow weaker.  

The order was inevitable even before the females gave it voice, “then, my old friend, get it back and offer it to her!”

“My Lady…”


== Analysis ==

Rantor is coming after us directly for the first time; primarily to get back Elorand's codicil but doubtless to kill us too!
-- 'so what' = we shouldn't spend too long in any one place or it will become a target for Rantor.  We also need to keep a low profile on the Prime so that he doesn't know where to find us.

Tiamat, evil queen of dragons, is plotting a grand scheme for dragons to make the Prime their dominion, after Ragnarok.  (note - Tiamat is the female counterpart and former mate of Bahamut, the good king of dragons)
-- 'So what' = we need to engage with Bahamut to provide a balance to Tiamat's interference on the Prime.
  
Tiamat sees Inwe as a key player and wants her on the side of the dragons; however, she believes that Inwe's main focus is now on serving Hel not on the Prime.  

The loss of Revern and, more importantly, Elorand's codicil, means that Inwe can no longer raise undead (hence Merc is not yet a Lich).