Cauldron of Corruption

Filistria watches as you circle around the table, inspecting the artifacts. She spools her platinum, blonde hair around her finger, and a small smile remains on her bronze face. The Grand Warlock idly rests her other hand atop her bare hip. You always admired her sense of dress, as her wardrobe contained only the most alluring attire.

"Choose wisely, my dear," she softly murmurs. Despite all her grace and poise, Filistria only maintained her formal demeanor in front of the gathered masses. Behind closed doors, she was as lusty and playful as a hedonistic courtesan. Even now, as you loom over her polished, mahogany desk, you feel her fingertips graze across your back. Filistria tickles behind your ear, but you make no obvious reaction. Playful, but capricious. Everything with this woman was a test. Even now, despite her floral scent tantalizing your nose, despite the blood surging to your loins, if you made a move against her advances she would tear you to shreds in an instant. Your stamina was well-known among the fairer sex of the cult, but even you never had the chance to bed the Grand Warlock.

"If you recall my field of expertise, my lady," you begin and place a hand atop the cauldron, "then you know my prowess in an alchemical laboratory," you humbly boast. Her smile widens and her eyes remain transfixed on your own. That was always her style. Fierce, unwavering eye contact. You glance away and circle the rim of the smooth, glassy, black stone.

"Yes, you were always fond of the lust potions, as I recall," she muses and at last lowers her palpable gaze down to the cauldron, "you may create all manner of elixirs and poisons from within this artifact, but be warned. This alchemy requires ingredients beyond the norm," she explains before gesturing for you to pick it up. You comply-- or you would, if you could even lift the thing. Perplexed, you look up as she begins to giggle. "Oh, fret not. The magic of the cauldron makes it impossible to move without the proper incantation," she says and rises from her seat. Crossing both arms over her chest like the pharaohs of old, she recites the following words: "Xivuzheem reshtevlan un-dulath Grevakhnu!" Abyssal words which you yourself have spoken many times. In common, it roughly translates into 'envelope the world, unholy Grevakhnu!'

In the blink of an eye, the cauldron leaps up off the table and shrinks down to a fraction of its size. You snatch it mid-air and gaze upon the mighty gift sitting in the palm of your hand. Now it looks like little more than a black, stone shotglass with convex sides. A very handy trick indeed. Your mind begins to race with schemes and machinations. In addition to your alchemical prowess, you trained with the cult assassins. Not only could you brew poison, but you knew how and when to use it. Food, drink, or blade, you were proficient with all methods.

"Use the same words to grow it back to full size. I trust you know not to tell anyone outside of our circle. Now then, as for your mission," Filistria pats your cheek and slips past you into an adjacent room. The violet silk curtains part around her curvy form with an enticing sway and you follow. In the second room lies a map of the region. The mark of Grevakhnu is etched onto your current location in the foothills, but Filistria points at a large trade town just shy of the farmlands in the west. "Wolfsbane," she confirms the town's name and you give her a curious expression, "yes like the poison."

"And what am I to do in Wolfsbane?" you raise a brow and fold your arms in thought. She gives the town another tap before weaving her fingers. The cauldron floats up out of your breast pocket and glides down to sit above the town marker on the map.

"The city is a trade hub, home to all manner of traveling merchants. By chance, they also have a fairly complex sewer system, unusual for a town of its size. Perhaps you could make use of it as a base of operations. Your choice of action is your own. Grevakhnu demands but one thing: unleash a tide of monstrous spawn upon the world," Filistria bears a chilling grin. After a beat, she plucks up the small black cauldron and places it back into your pocket. "I suggest you operate with discretion," she pauses again, "to start. After you gather enough numbers, you are to let loose a plague of fertility upon the people of Wolfsbane."

Afterwards, Filistria imparted a sacred blessing from Grevakhnu and you went on your way. It would only take you a day's travel by horse, and the Grand Warlock was kind enough to lend you one from the stables.