Nisariel listened to the questions, nodding his head slowly and rubbing at his chin, "Good questions. Ones that are difficult to answer." He looked to Danielle, "Support is something that's... tricky. If you're in an emergency and need assistance, I might be able to send help if you contact me, but otherwise we Faction heads have all agreed not to interfere, to prevent anyone from trying to... well, get the upper hand."
"Naamah is the one you should contact with any information you uncover. Deadlines and contingencies are... something that we haven't worked out yet." He mumbled.
Naamah nodded her head slightly, "This is a complex situation." She said, glancing to Gabriel, "Suffice it to say, you're not expendable, but someone needs to do it and you were chosen as the most suitable candidates, due to your skills and your loyalty."
Nisariel glanced to Nathaniel as he stepped backstage, "Ah, Dantanian. So you're one of the Faustian candidates then? Hm. Alright, then. That makes four of you."
Suzanna stepped into a large, circular underground room, the walls a deep, dark red stone, cracked and worn with age even more than the rest of the building upstairs had been. In the center of the room stood an ornate stone pedestal, and buried inside that ancient stone was a sword, equally as ancient and yet looking unworn, pristine and silvery-white, the edge of it razor sharp. Suzanna felt a presence from that sword. A very old, very powerful presence.
"Nammu." Echoed a voice in her head, a voice she remembered, that of one of the Barons she served during the war, Balthazar, "You answered my summons. That is gooood. I am in need of more servants to do my will."
The hooded, clawed man stood across the room, chuckling a little, "Master likes you. Always said good things. Said you weren't afraid to get your hands dirty."
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