Femme fatale and her muscle outside door. The are from the BrelandNation secret police (KingsDarkLanterns).
LadyVonace of the SilverTalon desired my presence at her citadel in two weeks. She turns me into stone “Fortunately, we have made arrangements so you cannot be late.” I hear the man punching HaroldTheBoy.
I wake standing in a pile of lumber. I yell for the boy. There is a gnome behind a half wall. I go over and he disappears.
Mysterious voice. I'm not happy. They don't care.
They leave me alone for a long time (6 days).
I am brought into a hall. There are several others who don't seem to belong: a monk, a con man, and a strange warforged.
The room is large, with some strangely large chairs (in addition to the normal human chairs).
A small (but obviously powerful) woman comes in and apologizes for our rough treatment. She asks if we know of the DragonProphesy. She seeks to change the conditions of the prophesy to be more advantageous for BrelandNation. Your names have all come up in the prophesy in some way.
First, the Chain, she says. We are all magically marked with magical symbols (some of us even pass out). They are the MarkOfVol (some sort of death magic).
She needs us to go into TheMournland and retrieve a docent which contains instructions on how to create warforged. She tells me HaroldTheBoy has joined an expedition into TheMournland.
She also needs us to go to a jungle, to get another docent allowing them to fully make warforged.
Oh, and she's an ancient silver dragon.
We are flown on a fireship to the refugee camp. We have some letters of credit, and seek to buy supplies.
2 common, 1 uncommon magical items.