The heavy iron-bound doors swung open at the ushers' push. Marek entered, accompanied by Letheriam Sentirs, Priestess of Pelor. The Duke, an aged man long accompanied to the stresses of politics sat with his shifty advisor and diviner across the marbled floor. After properly announced, Marek strode forward, surprised at the lack of guards present. Normally well-guarded from would-be assassins, the Duke had left only the two guards watching the main entrance inside the room. All other doorways would doubtless be manned, but from the outside of this room. Marek had performed service for the Duke before, but none had been presented in this much secrecy. And none before had been performed as payment for a debt.

"Sir Marek and Priestess Letheriam, please stand." There was a gleam in the Duke's eye as Marek stood to hear of his service. "Let Stromb tell you of his vision." Duke Ehyeh glanced over to Stromb, his hawk's nose prominent above a dark mustache and thin lips. His hand rested on the hilt of the sword laying along the thick cushioned arm of his seat, fingers fidgeting excitedly as his advisor stepped forward.

"The stars spin great tales, as you may well know, sir. Some of great fortune, some of great woe." An impatient scowl from Ehyeh quickened Stromb's dry narrative. "This star in particular - the very star that shot from the heavens this past week - portents great fortune for our small kingdom. Fortunes beyond our..."

"He speaks of Azak-Zil. The vision, Stromb."

Marek ignored the irritation evident in Ehyeh's voice, instead muttering that dreaded name to himself. His eyes widening with fear and realization, Marek began to protest only to be cut short by the Duke's advisor. "You need not venture anywhere near the mine, rest assured. Now, this vision..."

"I place this fortune within your capable hands, Marek. The world may have yet to discover it, but you are the finest artifact hunter to be seen. You have found lost treasures and cities that none have even dreamed to seek out, and my small kingdom alone has prospered. It is time for the world to know your talent, and it will shine bright as the sun once you have returned with the Roadstone."

A moments' pause, grinding past like an eternity, then Marek looked up. Fully assured that there would be no danger in this expedition, - only another long, boring search - details of his company were concluded.

The Priestess of Pelor, having held her silence and near invisibility all this time, stepped forward. The Duke and advisor both looked up at her, as if having forgotten her presence. Shamed that he had accepted the Duke's mission without first speaking to the mother of his child, Marek was relieved when the Duke drew her eyes away from him. "The clergy are welcome to send whatever aid they deem fit on this expedition." He continued slowly, choosing his words carefully. "And, should the followers of Pelor prove more influential and resourceful than the Cudgel, the assorted lords must surely acknowledge this fact and instate the worship of Pelor as the kingdom's established practice."