The pocket dimension was stark but functional. A small patch of earth, a fledgling green sprout, and a tiny, warm sun hanging overhead.
Fiona Russell's spectral projection was the first to arrive. "This is... smaller than I imagined," she mused. She had been expecting ancient ruins and a grumpy dragon.
A moment later, a figure shrouded in brilliant white light and a man made of folded paper appeared beside her.
"You were expecting the plot of Farsail's Marvelous Journeys?" the paper man asked, his voice warm and amused.
"You've read it?" Fiona asked, delighted.
"The real Farsail's journals are in the Gray Keep," the paper man chuckled. "The real adventure had no treasure, and the dragon definitely wanted to eat him."
Their chat was interrupted by the arrival of their host. A mirror materialized out of thin air, and from its surface stepped the golden-robed, coronet-wearing figure of a god. Leo surveyed his catch: a projection, a paper construct, and a light-shrouded avatar. All very cautious. Excellent.
"Good day, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice resonant.
"Good day, Your Excellency," the paper man, Ephram, replied, giving a formal bow. The light-shrouded figure, Iyet, echoed the sentiment.
Fiona, catching on quickly, copied their formal address. Excellency? Is he a prince? Or a god?
"I require assistance," Leo stated, getting straight to the point. He decided against inventing a fake organization. These were people of means and knowledge; they would see through it. Better to build trust organically. "A recent event on the Material Plane has piqued my interest. I wish to know its cause and outcome, but I am… unable to investigate personally. I will offer a suitable reward for the information."
"The Material Plane?" Iyet's voice was muffled by the light. "I am not there, and my agents have been withdrawn. I am sorry, Your Excellency, but I cannot help."
Fiona's mind raced. He's not on the Material Plane? An extra-planar being? She asked, "Your Excellency, what is the nature of this event? Perhaps it is within my abilities."
Leo smiled at her. The information from the Wish scroll had identified her as the daughter of the powerful Lord Russell. "The other day," he said casually, "the Lord of Dawn saw fit to cast a God-Smite upon the Material Plane. I wish to know why."
Fiona's courage faltered. This was far beyond her. "My apologies, Your Excellency. That is a matter far above my station."
Leo turned to the last member.
Ephram, the paper man, smiled apologetically. "My deepest regrets, Your Excellency. Matters concerning the gods are secrets, not to be shared."
Not 'I don't know', but 'I can't share', Leo noted. The Knowledge Church is definitely the key. The gifts he had prepared would have to wait.
Just as he was about to dismiss them, Iyet spoke again. "Your Excellency, if that is the event in question… perhaps I can provide an answer after all."
The others turned to him, their curiosity piqued.
"The Lord of Dawn cast his fire," Iyet began, his voice laced with contempt, "because a False God has claimed the domain of the Sun."
"A False God?" Fiona gasped. She thought they had all died out in the Fourth Age.
"The 'Lord of Dawn' is no Primordial God," Iyet sneered. "He is a new god, born in this very age. He desperately covets the Sun domain and viciously attacks any who come near it."
"But... my tutors, my father, they all say he is one of the original seven," Fiona protested.
"They are mistaken," Ephram interjected gently. "The original was the Ancient Sun God, Amunator. From his death came Lathander, the Morninglord. And from Lathander's fall in the Dawn Cataclysm came the current Lord of Dawn, Amon-Et, and his twin, the Lord of Twilight. They are heirs, not originals."
"As for the outcome of the event," Iyet continued, bringing the topic back, "I know only that it involved the Lady of Night. In response, the Lord of Dawn has issued a divine decree. The Church of Dawn has assembled a kill-squad: five Legends and a demigod known as 'The Light of the Worlds'."
So they are coming for me, Leo thought, unfazed. He smiled at Iyet. "Your answer is satisfactory. As payment, I will give you a clue to claiming a domain of your own."
He paused for effect.
"Its name... is Steam."