>>6095730"Ready? Sim salabim!" Shouts the half-breed, his words imparting life to the carpet, which undulates gently. Folding his arms confidently, he leans back, relaxing as the silken thing ascends toward the roofless world's infinite azure expanse. "We're flying! We're flying!" Exclaims the girl elatedly, who turns her head toward you in the hope of sharing in her excitement with another. A sickness the likes of which you have never felt washes over you as you become increasingly aware of your surroundings. True, you have ridden the giant bat into battle numerous times before - but that was in the Underdark, where the definitive size of each tunnel gave you a sense of surety.
You cling to dear life as the carpet accelerates to breakneck speed, watching in abject terror as the landscape below you becomes an indistinct verdant blur. Screaming until your throat is hoarse, your cries are squelched by the turbulent wind that carries your voice off to lands unknown. For lack of alternative, you shut your eyes and try to distract yourself with pleasant fantasies about tormenting Lael. What you would not give to throw that wretch into the spider pit right this moment...
Still clinging desperately to the infernal flying furnishing, the sound of your anguished shouts crescendos as the wind's howl fades into nothingness. Prying your eyes open, you soon realize that you are before the Hall of the Elders. The spectacle of your episode has attracted a small crowd, the half-breed and his two child apprentices amongst them, all watching wordlessly as you kick and yawp like a madwoman.
Falling silent, you are on your feet in an instant, heading for the council chamber ahead of the others with your face buried beneath your hands. Gods willing, none who witnessed what has transpired here will remember it.
Entering the council chamber again after what feels like a full military campaign, you are greeted by a host of familiar faces, as well as a new one. The Council of Elders has at last found new members to take the place of Brandt Greycastle and Rupert Tenpenny. From right to left, you take stock of those present, reading off their placards to yourself whilst doing so:
