Finn's analysis revealed the most probable origins of the vampires, a significant revelation for Lynn, as they had clearly come here with ulterior motives. If he could obtain information that others lacked, he could sow discord, thereby prompting a conflict between the Lothandar Church and the vampires. In doing so, he could navigate the ensuing chaos to achieve his own goals.
Understanding the vampires' source would allow him to attempt forging a connection with them, which would undoubtedly prove advantageous. However, Lynn needed to contemplate the specifics of how to proceed.
After Finn departed, Lynn tidied up and prepared for rest. The tent was now devoid of any occupants, and he found himself musing over the intelligence in his hands, unable to suppress a quiet soliloquy.
"The Book of Dragons, the Phylactery of Samastor… if memory serves, that artifact was reportedly plundered by the half-orc bandits of the Morgoth Mountains? Once the matters here are resolved, I should seek it out; the Book of Dragons could be incredibly useful."
Lynn's knowledge of Faerûn was not particularly extensive, but this tidbit struck a chord. After all, Samastor was a renowned figure in DND lore, famed for his legendary clashes with the Lothandar, which had turned the tides of fate.
However, upon arriving in this world, he discovered that Samastor was far from the formidable presence he had been led to believe.
Renowned figures often attract attention, and he vaguely recalled the tale: Samastor's Phylactery was allegedly intercepted during transportation by a gang of bandits. Liches were known for their obsession with inconspicuous phylacteries, and his had indeed been far too unassuming, languishing in the bandits' lair for several centuries.
Truly, this unfortunate soul belonged to the realm of extreme misfortune—falling in love with Mystra, founding a religion only to be infiltrated by the Bane Church, and having his resurrection plans as a lich abandoned for centuries. As a master of magic, his existence was undeniably tragic.
Yet, what concern was that to him? At this moment, he wished to dismiss such thoughts. Were it not for their overlap with his own ambitions, he would have no interest in pursuing Samastor's phylactery. He merely contemplated how to leverage this information before sinking into a deep slumber.
After he fell asleep, a death beetle stealthily emerged from his garments—Deshulth, the spellcaster, was presently aflame with excitement. Had he been able to vocalize as a death beetle, he would have shouted with glee.
He flitted out of the tent and adopted human form in solitude, merely to release a hearty laugh.
The Book of Dragons!
Few could fathom the allure of a tome considered a magical artifact, and for Deshulth, the attraction was immense. Many could not comprehend his life: he regarded power, fame, and wealth as trifling, with only magic serving as his source of joy.
The mere acquisition of an unremarkable spell from another mage could elate him for days. Yet, a magical masterpiece renowned across the continents, spawning countless tales, captivated Deshulth as irresistibly as the enchanting Mechanshure would entice a naive youth.
This allure was utterly irresistible.
Having lurked in Lynn's shadow for some time now, Deshulth did not mind masquerading as a beetle. However, he harbored considerable dissatisfaction with Lynn's actions. Despite knowing the whereabouts of the shattered crystal, he was dismayed that Lynn was engrossed in petty schemes rather than devising a plan to seize the artifact and bolster his own power.
In Deshulth's view, strength was the essence of existence. The conflict unfolding in this valley appeared trivial; combined, the forces of good and evil here were insufficient to warrant his attention for a single day. Over time, his disappointment grew, and he even considered abandoning the identity of this death beetle to venture northward in search of the shattered crystal.
Yet, a twist of fate brought him exhilarating news: the Book of Dragons was hidden within the Morgoth Mountains, and Lynn astonishingly knew its location!
With the revelation of the Book of Dragons, he cast aside thoughts of the shattered crystal. Compared to the tome, the crystal lost its allure. While it could indeed enhance spellcasting, it offered no new arcane knowledge. Deshulth was far more interested in acquiring the very book that had ensnared Samastor in madness, eager to discern whether he could glean some insight from its pages.
In his excitement, Deshulth also recognized that Lynn possessed an unnerving wealth of knowledge. He was uncertain of the origin of this strange information, but he believed there was much more to uncover. Lynn could become a valuable long-term investment, promising substantial returns.
However, to pursue this, he needed to ensure Lynn survived this adventure and could eventually confront the bandits—this thought drew Deshulth's gaze toward the nearby tent of the Lothandar priest, deep in contemplation.
To him, that was another threat, yet also a captivating prospect: the priests of the Lothandar Church had not been forthcoming. They had deceived these adventurers, including Lynn.
Unlike others who regarded Taziyamar as mere legend, Deshulth had frequented both the ancient Taziyamar mines and the later Ottu City. His prior visits afforded him insight; he knew well that the Eagle's Nest altar was more than a mere pile of stones.
Years ago, even before Taziyamar's downfall, it had faced numerous external threats. Their excavations were not solely for mining but also to evade the marauding tribes from the south. The altars constructed atop the mountains served as part of their defensive fortifications: these altars were exits to hidden passages that offered refuge and routes for troop movements. Furthermore, some of these passages housed secret storage rooms filled with supplies for emergencies.
When Taziyamar fell, the dwarves hastily retreated. They faced an onslaught from below; the mechanisms designed to defend against barbaric incursions were never activated. Today, although the hidden passages had lost their utility and much of the stored supplies had likely decayed, some dwarven weapons would not crumble to dust with time.
Exquisite dwarven weaponry held immense value, and the Lothandar Church could hardly afford to overlook such treasure. Did the Church genuinely seek an artifact upon arriving here? Or was their true aim the vast cache of dwarven weapons concealed within?
Perhaps from the outset, neither party had genuinely sought the artifact. Finn had pointed out no misconceptions; the Lothandar artifact was hardly worth the fuss of a century-long search. The Church's generous offer to purchase the artifact from its finder was further evidence that their initial goal was not the artifact itself.
Although it appeared that the disputes had arisen from the Lothandar artifact, none of the factions genuinely pursued it—this piqued Deshulth's curiosity: what expressions would adorn their faces upon discovering the truth?