The titans were seated at a large round table in a room built of redwood planks, lit by a candle chandelier that cast shadows on the walls and left the corners dark. The attendants included the Dreamweaver, the Shark Titan, Commander Bridge, Mayor General Clint, and an ancient looking man with a hunched back covered by a raggedy, dark green robe. There were two empty seats at the table, and the room was quiet.
"How'd it go with the spider?" The Shark Titan broke the silence, leaning slightly towards the Dreamweaver.
"I got what I needed," the Dreamweaver said, her body language showing she wasn't interested in starting a conversation.
"That's good," the Shark Titan nodded awkwardly, "what's next for you?"
"A bunch of shit I didn't sign up for, probably," the Dreamweaver sighed.
The double doors at the front of the room swung open, and the Fish Wizard entered. His raggedy grey hat and robes weren't dripping wet as usual, but were still visibly damp. He carried his staff in one hand, and a mug of dark liquid in the other.
The Shark Titan planted his hands on the table and rose sharply from his seat, "why are you here?"
"By all means, pretend I'm not," the Fish Wizard said dismissively, taking the empty seat furthest from the Shark Titan.
"He's required to be here, just as you are, Captain," the Mayor General said.
The Shark Titan glanced at the mayor, then glared at the Fish Wizard a while longer before hesitantly retaking his seat.
"Let's get this over with," the Fish Wizard said, "who fucked up what?"
"We're waiting on one more," the Mayor General said.
"We may begin," the Agent of Morose with the two-teared mask said as he shimmered into view in the final empty chair.
"Yes, we may," the Mayor General said, masking his annoyance with a diplomatic tone, "as you all should know, five days ago, two expeditions were interrupted by an attack at the hands of unknown wizards who abducted the Wyvern before it could be killed. Following this, a Dragon appeared and seemingly killed several of the wizards. These events appear to be the culmination of a situation we've been following for some weeks now -- powerful aura beacons have been activating below ancient structures throughout the surrounding area, and an unseasonal magic storm followed. Commander, what new information do you bring?"
"The beacon pulses seem to have ended with the storm," Commander Bridge said, "I've entered several of the ziggurat structures since. Without the pulses, the passageways beneath the structures are safe to traverse until you reach a certain depth, then there's some sort of wall of aura. I could cross it if I tried, but I think I'd probably die. The source of the pulses appears to be somewhere beyond this wall in each of the structures I've entered. At all locations with guards present, they had been slain, most appear to have been electrocuted."
The Mayor General grimaced and nodded, "What did you learn from the structure interiors?"
"Not much," the Commander continued, "but they're definitely part of all this. Each has intricate murals carved into the walls, several of them depict a chain of events not unlike our own. A storm appears, usually amidst a battle of some kind, then wizards appear from lightning strikes, abduct a titan rank beast, and abscond. In each of the murals, a red dragon appears shortly after the wizards depart."
"Why would the dragon appear early this time?" The Dreamweaver wondered aloud.
"Sounds like the storm was early too, that'll be related," the Shark Titan said, "I'd bet on it."
"What else do we know about the ziggurats?" The Mayor General asked the table, "there's been nothing found in our records other than passing acknowledgements and references, they go back to the early days of the exploration in the region but don't tell us anything useful."
"They're easy to open," the Commander said, "so easy that just about any curious adventurer probably would. One of my running theories is that something must have changed, something that unlocked them somehow, or there would have been incidents before now."
"I think you might be right," the Mayor General reached out towards a single newspaper page on the table in front of him and slid it towards the Commander, "the editor of the Badger brought me this yesterday, it would have been front page, but I instructed him to withhold publication. It's based on a quest report an adventurer completed sometime between the beginning of the Grand Hunt and the beginning of the Matriarch expedition. It details a large temple in the forest, known to our records but not thoroughly documented. Included are several sketches of the interior that depict murals with dragons and lightning wizards, and what appears to be a ritual control altar. The report further indicates that there were fingerprints in the dust on one of the dial stones when the adventurer arrived."
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"So someone activated this altar," the Dreamweaver said, "that either unlocks the ziggurats or activates the beacons, maybe both, and then curious adventures start opening them? Or wizards, moving ahead of their allies?"
The Mayor General shook his head, "there were no reports of isolated storms or out-of-place lightning strikes leading up the first beacons, however, I suppose it's possible they simply walked to the ziggurats."
"It was adventurers," the hunched old man said in a raspy, labored voice, speaking for the first time since a polite greeting upon his arrival, "at least on one occasion -- the first, beacon, I believe."
"You can verify this?" the Mayor General asked.
"'Caught them in the act," the old man said with glee, his body shaking with a croaking laugh, "scared them right for it, too."
"I'm thinking the beacons caused the storm," the Commander suggested, "that would explain why it trickled in at first, when the first few ziggurats were opened by adventurers. Then the wizards appear at the remaining sites, kill the guards if there are any, and activate the rest of the beacons. The storm begins in earnest, and they wait for their moment to strike."
"That might explain the dragon showing up early, too," the Dreamweaver said, "he was alerted either by the early beacons or the beginnings of the storm."
"This all fits together," the Commander said, "but we still don't know who activated the altar, or who the wizards are," he finished his sentence staring at the Agent of Morose.
"Morose permits me to reveal the following," the agent said in a deadpan voice, "the wizards belong to an ancient order known today as the Millennium Mandate. Their origins are before history, though their goals are in the near future."
"What else can you tell us about the Millennium Mandate?" the Mayor General asked, "what are their goals?"
The agent was silent.
The mayor's voice grew less polite, "I'll remind you that your contingent is allowed to operate in this region at the courtesy of the Emerald Empire, which I have authority to rescind."
"My god's agreement with your empire does not dictate what information must be revealed," the agent said, "and I will not entertain political bluffs."
The room was silent and tense for a moment.
The Shark Titan was next to speak, "what now? The wizards and dragon are gone, wyvern's dead, beacons are shut off. Is this still our problem?"
"It was never mine," the Fish Wizard grumbled, but was ignored.
"I don't know, it may well be over our heads," the Mayor General sighed, leaning back in his seat, "Commander Bridge, I want you working on this full time, follow up on each of your leads and bring me twice-weekly reports."
"Yes sir," the Commander said.
"Angela, Captain Clement, I'll have to request you remain in the area for the near future, at least until we know more about what we're dealing with."
"I have a lot to do," the Dreamweaver said, "but I can do it here. As long as you're not demanding too much of my time, we won't have a problem."
"I'm certain you'll manage to balance your personal pursuits with your duties," the Mayor General said flatly, then turned to the Shark Titan, "Captain?"
Captain Clement was absently tapping a finger on the table while he thought, "The Maw needs repairs, and it gives me time to recruit. Two months, no longer."
The Mayor General's displeasure at their attitudes was freely displayed on his face, "I hope it goes without saying -- to all of you -- that if the dragon returns and we're in the line of fire, it would be an existential threat to this city. If you're needed here, I will exercise my authority to see it so."
The Shark Titan snorted, "that would be a show to see."
"Does the table have anything else?" The Mayor General asked curtly, still staring down the Shark Titan.
"There is a remaining matter," the Agent of Morose said, "that of the wyvern egg."
"Right," the Mayor General let out a breath and relaxed his posture, "I understand it was lost during the attack. That's disappointing, the city will miss out on a very lucrative deal we had arranged, but we have larger issues to be concerned with now."
"Morose has interest in that deal, and those that would follow," the agent said, "two of your titans were instructed to investigate."
"You have no authority over anyone in this room," the Mayor General pointed out.
"Gods have authority over every mortal," the agent replied, turning his head to meet the mayor's eyes with the empty black holes of his mask.
"We are investigating the matter," the Dreamweaver said, then clarified, "for our own interests. I'm looking into a few adventurers from my expedition who are known to have been close to the plateau before the dragon's arrival, but none of the leads are promising."
"None of my subordinates were anywhere near the plateau until long after the dragon destroyed it," the Commander said, addressing the Mayor General rather than the agent, "so I will be following up on those same leads as well."
"Good," the Mayor General spoke before the agent could, "keep me updated on that, as well, but don't let it take precedence over the larger concerns. And you," the mayor looked towards the agent, "whether Morose has interest in the deals that follow our own is none of our concern, I'd appreciate it if they treated the matter until then as none of theirs."
The agent stared back at the Mayor General from within his mask and said nothing. After several silent seconds, the agent shimmered away.