Soder's Parley

An important note:

It's worth noting that the group knows the Puppeteer's real name. He's known as Advisor Soder, and seems to be the right-hand man of the Ivory King. They've learned this in two places:

- Remember the chained polymorph ambush right before Imbindarla died? In Nulloc Toadbringer's cave, they found a letter referencing an Advisor Soder. Then after Imbindarla fell and the group disrupted the ghoulish ritual, they questioned a simpering ghoul named Lios. When asked who Advisor Soder was, he answered, "The advisor to the Ivory King. He can speak through the distances. A very wise man."

- While waiting in Thoobel's chambers within the kuo-toa city, Agar had a detailed vision which first informed him that an undead assassination group (made up of previously slain enemies such as the elven archer and the psionic shadow) was chasing them. The Puppeteer shows up in the vision to discuss strategy, and Arballine specifically calls him by name. ""Master Soder, they destroyed him, after all the work I did to keep him with me forever."

At this point, they're pretty sure that Soder and the Puppeteer are one and the same. We'll have to see if that's correct.

"Didn't I delegate someone to go watch that?" yells Nolin in a panic. "Aren't you people listening?" Everyone except Velendo swivels around to stare at the pile of rubble. Velendo is still blind from Agar's sunburst, so he struggles to cast heal and regrow his seared eyes. Hardly anyone notices, though; they're too busy staring at the heaped debris in the other corner.

"Ouch."

"Get bent, Soder."

"These stones are heavy." The pile of rocks shifts a bit.

Nolin wields sarcasm like a rapier. "Waah."

"You're right. You win. You win."

Velendo wipes away sweat with a forearm. "No we don't, and we don't want to talk about it."

"You're not paying attention. I'm ready to surrender."

Malachite has his sword out. "I hope you appreciate that we doubt your sincerity. Why should we believe you?"

"I'm not sure. But you've killed everything that I've tried to use to stop you, and you've rebuffed all of my invitations to negotiate." He sounds sincere, in a gurgling sort of way.

"Agar, you can help with this negotiation, can't you?" asks Velendo over the mindlink. "Don't you have the divination that lets you hear truth?" Agar's eyes light up, and he begins to cast. Meanwhile, Nolin settles down by the pile of rubble.

"Soder, you're a body-riding freak and we have no reason to trust you. In fact, I'd really much rather find what shriveled hulk of a body your nasty, twisted intelligence lives in and jump up and down on it with a pair of very spikey shoes." He smiles at the image.

Spell completed, Agar looks up. "Nolin's not lying."

Soder sighs, like gas escaping a bloated corpse. "I miss those halcyon days where we would sit in your study, and chat away half the night over a glass of wine." He sounds nostalgic.

Nolin loses his temper. "You delusional freak! We never chatted, we never drank your wine. We don't like you!"

Velendo sounds curious, attempting to draw out answers for Agar's spell. "Soder, what were you before you were a ghoul?"

"You know my name? It's so much nicer to be on a first name basis with people." His rotting voice sounds wistful.

"Do you honestly want to surrender to us?"

"I would like to negotiate cessation of hostilities. We will stop whatever it is that we're doing that bothers you...

Nolin interrupts. "Do you honestly think that the Ivory King is going to stop his plans for his mother's power, his plans to become a God? And it's not like we came down here with the plan for negotiating a truce."

"Your worries are not that. Your worries are to stop us from raiding and killing the surface people.

"Our worries have shifted. No plan survives contact with the enemy."

"So I have learned. Your worries have shifted, then, have they?" The muffled voice sounds interested.

"Are you going to betray your master? Because I'm sure he doesn't want to stop hostilities."

Soder sounds pleased with himself. "On the contrary. I'm sure that with my recommendation he will stop his attacks on the surface. Mind you, a few years from now the prophecy will undoubtedly come true, and we'll have to work together to deal with that. But still..."

"This 'Destroyer' you've talked about? I don't think he exists. Tell us about this prophecy."

The voice becomes annoyed. "I've already told you, and I don't really have time to tell you again. You should have paid attention the first time. The Ravager will come."

Malachite tries to sound reasonable. "But surely you can tell us a story before we negotiate? If you have time to negotiate, you have time for this."

"You are stalling for time."

"Stalling for time? We're merely trying to understand what sort of a situation we're getting ourselves into before negotiating." Malachite's words apparently don't ring true.

"It will be born, it will rise and it will destroy mankind."

"How will the ravager destroy mankind?" asks Agar. "Still hasn't lied," he thinks.

"Don't know. Not sure. The prophecies do not say. The Ravager is human, of course. We would prefer that the world not be burned to a cinder. We could work together, side by side, holding hands. . ."

Nolin shakes his head. "I just can't work with a creature or series of entities who view me as a giant pork chop!" He pauses, as if waiting for applause for his witty analogy, but only Soder responds.

"You're not like pork," he wheezes thoughtfully. "More like chicken. Human flesh has a certain tanginess. . ."

Velendo rubs his chin. "We could make a truce. . ."

Malachite stands up. His voice is firm. "No. There will be no truce, no half measures. My mission is to break the spine of the White Kingdom. That doesn't mean a truce."

While Mara, Malachite and Velendo begin to argue, Soder tries to make chatty small talk. "So, do you like it down here?"

Nolin makes a face. "No, I hate it."

"Oh, dear. Maybe you should see where we've decorated. This is still sort of," he pauses to spit away noisome fluid, "mind flayer-y."

"Let me guess. Your decorations involve... gobbets?"

"Nooo." He searches for an analogy. "That would be like you decorating in gravy."

Malachite glares at the rubble. "You have slave pits?"

From underneath the rocks, Soder's voice sounds excited that Malachite is showing an interest in his hobbies. "Oh yes, we have some of those. Not many, any more."

Malachite's voice is like ice. "I'm touched by your conversion."

"No, it's not that. They just keep dying off. So, you don't want to bargain?

"Not really," says Mara. She doesn't sound regretful.

"I'm sorry about that."

Velendo steps forward. "Is your Ivory King willing to give up all ambitions to godhood?"

He considers. "Unlikely."

"Well then."

"Why have your ambitions changed?" He coughs out a maggot.

"The scope of the evil changed," Mara answers. She crosses her arms, and next to her Nolin's breaks into a grin.

"Even your own ghouls know it. I've heard you've lost some of them." He clucks his tongue reprovingly. "Shame about T'Cri."

"I hate to break it to you." Malachite's voice is strong as he addresses the pile of rubble. "Destiny is on our side."

"I'm not sure that's true."

"I'm sure you're not sure it's true, but we're sure it's true. You can stand in our way and be cut down, or you can get out of our way, but somewhere in between is not acceptable."

"I'm trying to get out of your way."

"No, you're trying to find somewhere in between while we work out a negotiated truce."

Nolin pipes up. "While we're being all honest and truthful, where is your body and how do we kill it? You know where my body is, and you know how to kill me, so I think it's only fair that you tell us the same."

Malachite realizes what Nolin is trying to do. "Yes! You know how to kill us, you know how to find us, it doesn't really seem like both sides have their cards on the table."

"Actually. . ."

"You want to come at us with good faith, come at us with good faith. If you want to come at us with false faith, don't claim it's good faith."

"Actually," repeats Soder with some peevishness at being interrupted, "if I knew how to kill you you'd probably be dead by now."

Malachite's voice drops into a mocking register. "You know how. You're just not good at it."