The final Star-Gem is placed in the receptacle. The ancient noble djinni feels her form slowly solidify with a soft hiss. She senses the confusion of the visitors whom placed the gems as they hear the rushing air.
How long has it been? Nefeshti muses as her form coalesces above her tomb for thousands of years. As her eyes form she spies an airy human prostrate at the foot of her sarcophagus. This one is kin. she notes. Behind her, a wizard of some sort wearing an interesting hat. He too, smells of home; and someone familiar. Next to him is a young looking half-elven woman staring wide eyed. And tragically, a massive armless warrior stands starting blankly, not paying attention. She notices that the horrendous injury is recently healed, likely with minor curative spells. I can help with that.
On the massive warriors shoulders is a monkey. Wait. She cocks her head at the animal and smiles. He smells familiar too. Then she remembers and the liberators, which is what she is thinking of this band, notices her smirk. If he wants to play like this, so be it. I’ve got rewards for these folk.
Fully formed, the woman stands an impressive twelve feet tall. Her perfectly proportioned body brings awe to all four of her visitors. When she speaks, her alto voice booms throughout the chambers of the Pact Stone Pyramid.
“I am Nefeshti; Vizier of the Templar’s of the Five Winds! You have been destined to release me from this captivity to continue the war against the evil efreet lord Jhavul! Although I have waited thousands of years for my release, time is now short. The Countdown Clocks are approaching the zero hour and the Firebleeder must be found. The traitor Zayifid has been loosed and is reeking havoc with his unfettered powers of wish-magic. I must stop him immediately. But you shall be rewarded for your service, mortals. I have three wishes to give!”
Aishê cries, “It is only my wish to serve the ancestor!”
“You may. We have much to do granddaughter!” She turns her gaze to the armless warrior. “You. I imagine you wish for your arms back great warrior.”
Mustafa clears his throat, coming out of his daze to speak. “Urm. I fought all of my life, and will probly fight to my death. Might I have arms of steel to better break my enemies?”
Time slows for the quartet as Nefeshti closes her eyes and lets her consciousness drift across the the sands of Osirion and the waters of the Inner Sea and over the Isle of Kortos and towards the city of Almas. There, she drifts down the streets and alleys until a clanging reaches her senses. There, the former slave Rza is working on his masterpiece. A fine set of adamantium gauntlets. He feels a breeze and gains an inspiration. Outside, the people walking the streets slow to a halt. The gauntlets are worked furiously. Mechanical levers, pulleys, valves, and hydraulics are welded in. Hidden compartments and chains. Torag looks on at the hypersped blacksmith works at a pace rivals his own and a rare smile creases his beard.
Time slows to normally as Nefeshti gives a wispy kiss to Master Rza, takes the gauntlets, and drifts back towards the Pact Stone Pyramid. Rza stares at the neat stack of gold bars left in his masterpieces place. He intuitively realizes that his work was needed to fulfill a wish. “I must learn who has received my gift. It must be used for good.”
The observes see Nefesti’s form become insubstantial for a second. When it solidifies, she is holding a fantastic pair of metal arms. “Hold out your arms, warrior.”
Mustafa holds out his stumps as Nefesti bends forward and holds the metal gauntlets to the remains of his arms. As Mustafa feels his muscles and nerves infuse with the adamantium, he feels inherent goodness in the gift. I must not use these for evil. Mustafa clangs his new fists together and grumbles.
“That’s right, young gladiator. Use them to rid the world once and for all of the blight that is Jhavul, wherever he may be. Find him and destroy him, for his machinations threaten us all. As you practice with this gift, you will find it has powers that you could only dream of.” Then she turns to the half elf wizard carrying the Sapphire of Vardishal.
“And you, young wizard. What is is you wish for?”