When you called on Septul for dissimination of the dragon’s knowledge and memories, she tells you:
Master, Emmera Dracos was a adult female wrym that dominated northern Direwood for centuries since the Drenai dynasty, approximately 10,500 years ago. Her lair lies in the heart of the northern sector of the forest, in a ruins on an isle in the middle of a cloister of dense bogs. Various creatures invited by Emmera to safeguard her lair make their own dens in a 3 mile radius outside of the bogs she called home. Beneath the ruins is the Dungeons of Draxcon, also known as the shadow vault, which asside from her lair there’s no telling what still lurks therein. However, it was heavily trapped and she had numerous mercenary servitors to protected it, undoubtedly still does!
When the Duke strode into the chambers, he made gestures that told his servants to fetch food and drink, minor facets of decorum he delegated to his vassals, hating them. He sat himself at a large throne like chair at a long rectangular table, eying you briefly while consuming a large cup of beer, wiping his mouth and sighing in appreciation of the ale.
He turned his eyes towards you once again, ‘So boy, and the rest of your little wolf pack here have been stirring things up in my city, eh? Heh heh” he laughed as if it all amused him. He was a sharp eyed man with dark wavy brown hair, and eyes lit with a blend of mirth, intellect, and curiosity. ‘Let’s see here, you’ve killed Lord Kraybor, several city-lords, a Green Dragon, and some escapades down in the southlands. Ah, you saved Lord Dreygar and defeated many assassins sent to you by a Jez’zurian highlord whose sired enough whores sons and daughters to build an army. Seems like your own brothers and sisters are a litter of cunts! But you managed to escape all of their schemes to end your existence prematurely” he took the document report he’d read concerning you and lit it under a candle flame, watching it consume with flames, ‘Well, seems like Lady Kyrillia’s not just blowing sunshine up your arses!” he snickered as some servants brought platters of meat, fruit, pitchers of mead, wine, and smoked Direboar. He didn’t seem interested at all in any of the fare, as though it were all common foodstuffs, and he insisted the party eat over talk.
“Look, Whisper of Jez’zur. I’m the queen’s hand, which means I’m in charge of things here. Lady Kyrillia, the queens second cousin once removed had been assigned a special task of great import to the throne, and for the weal of the realm. I shant lie, I had a hand in her choosing. When I was a young, reckless, rebellious fool adventuring in the land you grew up in, I’d met a curious lady who was a natural born enchantress and a master assassin, your mother. She taught me a charm person and friends spell in exchange for one day lending her an aid, a favor of some sort, whatever it would be. Of course, at that time I was stupid and eventually she cashed in on that favor. Which was helping you in some fashion, to provide you with a fighting chance at life.
When you too were but a fool spending your monies on wine and women, befriending whores and thieves in your circus days my servants were swiftly dispatching all manner of scum seeking to snuff the rightful heir of your father, for you wore his face and it was known as scandal in the courts you left behind. His wife, who couldn’t bore children was embittered as the poison of jealous consumed her soul. She and her fellow bitches all sent the first wave of killers to track you down and end you. However, while you were engaged in avoiding deaths tasteless kiss, my men slew the wives. That was my hand in this favor that I owed, however, your brothers and sisters not wishing for your late father to pass down all his wealth to you plotted to eliminate you once and for all.
Truth be known I didn’t think you had a hope in hell, even with my considerable assistance. But when you prevailed against uneven odds, and through some smart tricks came out ahead I recommended you to Kyrillia for her team building project. The queen commanded we assemble a team that mirrored the one who once served her father the high king Rodac, the ‘Blades of Nyr’ they were once known as. Her majesties royal counselor pressured her into reconstructing the Blades once more, that they could be called into action and do the undoable, to go beyond the mere measure of mortal men.
We’d had such a band once before, the Watcher’s had a heck of a run. They controlled the open land betwixt cities in the realm, rangers and thieves, scouts, spies, assassins. They were able to do audacious works and perform missions in dangerous lands, however they were all betrayed by a new enemy that still exists. To this date, only one man I knew of has learned something of this puppetmaster. A ranger named Pride Yorkesdale, until he was murdered by someone in the village of Harby before he could relay the secret.
Since that time and the recent discoveries your party has unearthed, it seems quite plausible that whomever had Pride eliminated was behind Kraybor’s secret agenda. All we’ve been doing is merely reacting, and now the queen wishes to rectify the situation.
Will you take up arms for the queen for the good of the realm once more?”