As Hazal turns to walk away, there’s a semi-human snarl from behind Nameless. Luna is back on her paws and utterly pissed off at what just happened, mostly because she didn’t get to do anything during the battle. “It’s his house? That does it – he’s going down!”
Luckily, Nameless is just that half a second faster, and his antimagic field pops into existence just in time to disrupt her empowered flame strike. And to snap her back from giant wolf to shifter form. “Grraaghh!!” screams Luna, “Don’t do that!”
As she tries to retreat out of the field, Nameless follows, keeping her within it, explaining quickly, “Listen – we’re still in Sharn and this guy hasn’t attacked us! We’ve also killed a couple of innocent people, remember? So let’s not exacerbate the situation. We got Emrena, and getting rid of the vampires we fought should be our first priority. Let’s get Balan here so it’s all official. Okay?”
Luna subsides grumpily and Nameless quickly dispatches Korm to do the needful. Less than an hour later, the temple is swarming with members of the Watch, with Balan and two other members of the Blackened Book also present. The Angels explain what happened in detail and also learn from him that he – and most people in Sharn – had no idea that there was a hidden temple to the Blood of Vol beneath the mansion owned by the wealthy merchant Lan Hazal. Questioning Lan and others present reveals that the temple has been in existence for years and the populace of the district Graywall, most of whom are Karrns, visit it secretly to pray and give blood as is traditional. The vast majority of them had no idea that Emrena and other members of the Emerald Claw were being sheltered by Lan, who also seems to have done it more from a sense of allegiance to the Blood of Vol than because he supported their actions against the Angels. Despite that, his aid to them counts as a significant mark against him, just as the fact that the Angels killed two innocent worshippers of the Blood of Vol is a problem, however well-intentioned their actions were. On behalf of the group, Nameless offers to pay a hefty recompense to the families, which Balan says should help him in ensuring the events don’t cause a major problem for them.
Besides the discussion, once Balan arrives the Angels track down the vampires which they had vanquished, by the simple expedient of having Korm summon a phantom stag, use it to turn ethereal and then ride back and forth through the floors and walls of the temple till he finds the secret compartments where they lie. The undead, having returned in gaseous form to their coffins and in the process of recovering from the battle, have a rude awakening as adamantine weapons break down the stone barriers behind which they lie. And crumble to dust as they are then swiftly decapitated.
With affairs at the temple taken care of, the Angels head back to the Gray House, with Luna grousing all the way about not being allowed to strip the temple bare and take everything in it. The fact that the group recovered numerous powerful magical items from Emrena, including a runestaff that will allow him to teleport them more often and a farspeaking amulet that enables long-distance communication (evidently the one that she used to communicate with the spy on board the Serenity during the attempt on Haydith’s life), makes little difference, with Luna arguing that she “really wanted those damn carpets!”
Luckily, once they are back home, Nameless finds something to distract her, though not necessarily in the happiest way. “Tell me,” he asks the group, “Did you notice anything peculiar when Emrena’s antimagic field hit you?”
Korm frowns. “Peculiar? You mean like the fact that none of my spells worked, none of my magic items and enhancements worked, and three vampires were trying to kill me?”
Luna snorts. “Bah! They didn’t do anything to you. They were too busy beating up on Six and me!”
Nameless sighs. “No. I meant something besides the obvious. I only experienced it for a second when I passed through her field, but that was enough, especially since I was paying attention for its recurrence when I cast mine. Mordain’s programmed amnesia was suppressed at that point, and I got a lot of memories back.”
Gareth scowls. “Now you mention it, I felt something as if something strange was going on besides what Korm said, but I was a little too busy. What did you remember?”
Nameless shakes his head. “It’s difficult to remember, since I was a little distracted. Both times,” he adds, favoring Luna with a dirty look, “And since the memories are gone again, though I know they existed. Let’s just say we weren’t as happy about these augmentations as we remember.”
“I knew it!” says Luna. “I’m going to kill that bastard! Come on, let’s go get him!”
“Yes, yes,” says Nameless impatiently, “I’m sure we can do that at some point. But right now we’ve got more important things to do, since we need to find Emrena’s phylactery before she can reform. And then deal with this seed in the Mournland. Mordain can wait. I’ll use another antimagic field tomorrow so we can work out precisely what memories were replaced and added.”
“All right. I’m sure we’ll recall being completely screwed over,” says Korm with grim relish, “But we still have some things to do today. You’re supposed to contact Saala again, Nameless.”
“Yes, I remember. And I want to send a message to Corven too, since we need to find out when his expedition is heading into the Mournland. But first Saala….” Nameless casts his spell and asks Saala if there is anything new to report.
Saala replies, “No signs of problem with seals yet. Thought of location in Marches worth investigating. Can you come here? If so, meet at Pool of Shadows.”
Nameless repeats what she said to the others. “I’ll just send Fett off with a letter to Corven via the Sivis post and we can leave.”
* * *
Barely an hour later, the Guardian Angels are back at the Pool of Shadows, sitting across from the leader of the Gatekeepers. The insane dragon Thlie is also present in her usual form of a crippled human woman, and she greets them by walking up to the group and carefully sniffing them individually up and down. Then, apparently satisfied, she announces with certainty, “You have changed. Much.”
“Yes,” says Nameless, “We know. But can you tell us anything about our changes? Or about the seed?”
Thlie cocks her head, a thin line of drool running over her lower lip, and asks curiously, “Seed? What seed?”
Saala interrupts, “I have already asked Thlie about the seed. She has had no visions about it. I’ll inform you at once if she does, but she has no control over them, so I cannot say when that might be.” Thlie turns to look at her friend, smiles brightly – if a trifle vacantly – and walks over towards the pool. Reaching the edge, she stares into the dark water for a few seconds, and then lets herself fall face-first into it. Only to reappear a couple of seconds later in her draconic form and slowly swim along the surface.
Saala looks at her fondly for a moment and then turns back to the Angels. “I have some important news,” she begins, causing the adventurers try to focus on her and avoid being distracted by the huge black dragon blowing bubbles in the background. “As I mentioned, there are no signs at the manifest zones I have visited of any effects from this seed’s planting. But that may be because they are all sealed. As some of you know, there are manifest zones of Xoriat in the Shadow Marches than anywhere else in the world. And while many are blocked by dimensional seals and guarded by us, others are not, especially those below the surface of the land. There is one particular area which is known to have an especially strong link to Xoriat and which has been held by aberrations for a long time. It is in a cavern of Khyber, tunnels from which – rumor says – eventually lead to the domain of Kyrzin.”
While Luna, Gareth and Six do not react in any way to the name, Nameless and Korm exchange glances. “Kyrzin,” repeats the alienist, “The prince of slimes and oozes, the daelkyr lord said to lurk beneath the Marches?”
“Yes. However, to the best of my knowledge, which is admittedly limited here, this manifest zone is still far from his domain. Maybe investigating it will reveal some change or result of the seed. I do not ask you to do it now, but as soon as you can. Perhaps I can show you the place today and you can go directly there when you are free to do so?”
“All right,” says Nameless. “I agree,” adds Six cautiously, “But can you tell us more about this place?”
“There is not that much to tell. It is a powerful manifest zone, deep under the earth. The daelkyr built many fortresses in the Shadow Marches when they invaded and one was there. After the daelkyr ruling the fortress was driven back to Xoriat when the plane was sundered from our world, the Gatekeepers of the time demolished the fortress and placed guards – and a dimensional seal – over the manifest zone. Centuries and millennia passed and our numbers dwindled, and eventually, this was one of the sites where aberrations from Khyber killed and drove off our people. We recaptured the site on multiple occasions and lost it as many times, and the seal was eventually destroyed in the battles. Finally, the location fell into the hands of the aberrations for the last time some three hundred years ago, and has not been recaptured since.” Her eyes flicker to Korm as she adds, “The last attempt was made approximately fifty years ago. One of our heroes, Harran’dal, was part of that expedition, from which nobody returned.”
Korm’s face sets in grim lines. “He was my great-grandfather. I did not see him, but I would like to see the spot where he fell.”
Saala nods and continues, “I have never been inside the place, nor do I know anyone who has, but the lore passed down to me says that the entrance leads into a maze of tunnels and caverns leading deep into Khyber. You should continually head downwards, till you eventually enter a giant cavern through which an underground river runs. The manifest zone is on the far side of the river. Tunnels from this area lead further and deeper into Khyber, presumably eventually leading to Kyrzin’s domain.”
…
Half an hour later, Saala points across the marsh to a rocky hill that rises out of the swamplands around it, indicating the dark cave mouth which faces the group. “There is the entrance.”
Nameless looks around, committing the spot to memory. “We’ll come here some time within the next two days, but I’m not sure exactly when.” He reaches in a pouch and produces a red crystal, one of the four keyed to the farspeaking amulet. “Keep this with you, and I shall speak to you through it daily, so we can exchange information.”
* * *
As has become habitual with the Angels, a short time later they are at the other end of Khorvaire, waiting for a meeting with Prince Ryger ir’Wynarn.
“Now, remember,” says Luna, glaring around at the others, “You’re to be on your best behavior around him. Nobody mentions anything about being fat, about hair, and definitely not about me supposedly being pregnant. I am not having anyone be rude to me in front of my boyfriend!”
Gareth thinks for a second about asking if Ryger knows he’s her boyfriend, but self-preservation causes him to not mention it. Nameless sighs and says, “We’re not here because he’s your boyfriend, Luna. This is business. We need to find out about this Farlnen island that Emrena’s phylactery is supposedly on, and it’s within the Principalities, so he’s our best bet. That’s all.”
“You’re sure about this Farlnen as the location?” asks Gareth.
“That’s what Cyäegha told me, and it’s the best bet we have. Let’s see what Ryger can tell us.”
At this point, the major-domo comes up to lead them into a large sitting room, where the self-proclaimed ruler of the Lhazaar Principalities is waiting. The rakish ex-buccaneer greets the Angels warmly, especially Luna, and invites them to be seated. After pouring some drinks and a modicum of small talk, he gets directly to the point. “Can I assume that this visit means you are actively investigating the people who were impersonating you – and who attacked my ships?”
Damn! “Actually,” Nameless says, as politely as he can, “We have a number of things on our plate right now, and need to deal with certain things before we can investigate that situation.”
“I see,” Ryger’s tone is disappointed, but there is an additional wariness in his eyes as they meet Nameless’. Despite the alienist’s best efforts, the changes in him automatically predispose strangers to view him oddly. Nameless’ eyes speak, if not of madness, of the fact that he has seen sights in comparison to which the one they currently gaze on is infinitesimally unimportant, and the undertones of his raspy voice only underline that impression. While those who know him can and do overlook the changes, for someone new to him, it is a fairly startling experience.
Knowing this, Gareth steps in smoothly. “We are currently dealing with one of the situations Nameless mentioned, and we hoped you could give us some information. The sooner we have it out of the way, the sooner we will be able to deal with whoever it was that attacked your ships.”
“All right,” says Ryger, “What do you need to know?”
“What can you tell us of Farlnen?” asks Nameless. “I believe the island is within your borders?”
Ryger looks puzzled. “Farlnen? Within the Principalities, yes, but far from here. It’s a deserted island up to the north, and far to the west. Why are you interested in it?”
Deciding that honesty is the best policy here, Nameless says, “As you may have read in the Korranberg Chronicle, we had a run-in with a lich. We finally vanquished her and I believe her phylactery is on Farlnen. Guarded by an undead dragon, probably a dracolich. Can you tell us anything about that?”
Ryger’s puzzled expression diminishes only slightly, and he shakes his head. “I know nothing about liches and undead dragons, there and elsewhere. The only dragons in the Principalities,” he adds with a touch of pride, “Are my Seadragons. As for Farlnen, it’s supposed to be deserted. The place is just a giant rock, mostly covered with ice, due to the cold up there, and with dangerous rocks all around it, so nobody goes there.”
“Do you have any maps of the place?”
“Only sailing charts showing the place and its location relative to other places in the Principalities. As I said, nobody goes there and I’m not sure it has ever been mapped out. But you are welcome to study our charts. They will help if you wish to sail there.”
Korm chuckles and Nameless smiles thinly. “We will not be sailing. But I appreciate the offer. I would like to see those charts.”
Ryger nods. “I’ll have them brought to you. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
“Thank you for your hospitality. We will leave early tomorrow morning.”
“In the morning?” Though Ryger hides it well, Gareth is certain that the prince is a little surprised to have his hospitality so eagerly and fully accepted. “I shall have dinner and rooms arranged for you.”
* * *
That night, a couple of hours after the Angels have headed to bed, the major-domo knocks on the door of their room, to inform them that there is someone to see them.
“I wonder who knows we are here,” says Six, before asking, “Who is he?”
“I do not know the man, sir, but he says you will wish to speak to him if I tell you he is from ‘the Lady.’” The major-domo looks at the Angels quizzically. “Should I call the guard and have him removed?”
“No,” says Nameless wearily, “We’ll speak to him.”
“Very well, sir. Do you wish Prince Ryger to be informed?”
“No, that’s all right. Thank you.”
As the Angels follow the major-domo, Gareth says, “Hey – where’s Luna? Considering this might lead to another fight, I thought she’d be all over this.”
Korm chuckles. “She didn’t join us after dinner, remember? She’s probably all over Ryger instead.”
“By the Flame! That’s not a visual I needed!”
The messenger, a young man in traveler’s clothes, is waiting patiently in a meeting room. Nameless’ arcane sight instantly informs him that a faint illusion masks the man’s form and that there are two spots of strong divination in his eyes. Once the major-domo has left, the man says, “Please do not be alarmed. I come in peace bearing a message.” Then he speaks a word and the illusion fades, revealing the pale, fanged visage of a vampire. Each of his eyes bears a small yellow spot, which swiftly expands till a bright yellow glow fills them. The vampire goes rigid, and when he speaks, the voice is clearly not his own. It is just as clearly female, though with a rough, raspy quality to it.
“Greetings,” she says, gleaming eyes flickering around the Angels, “You may call me the Lady.”
Nameless smiles. No real surprise here. He studies the new auras that sprang up around the vampire and surmises that it is a spell variant of the farspeaking amulet, except allowing a speaker to do so through a willing vessel. “Lady Vol, I presume?”
The voice takes on a slightly amused tinge, but simply repeats, “You may call me the Lady,” before continuing, “I wished to speak to you because of recent events. You have had issues with the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw and the lich Emrena. What is your aim in this area?”
Six answers instantly, the irritation clear in his metallic tone, “To get her to leave us the hell alone!”
“I see,” is the placid answer. “And what about the Blood of Vol or the Emerald Claw? Are you working actively against them?”
“No,” says Nameless. “We have no interest in them. Those idiots keep attacking us!”
“You did, however, attack an Emerald Claw cell in Karrnath, did you not?”
“Yes, but that was as a favor for our hosts. We have no real interest in them.”
Gareth speaks up at this point. “The Emerald Claw is a terrorist organization and has plagued Karrnath – and the rest of Khorvaire – for decades. If I had my way I would see them wiped out, but as my companions said, that’s not our goal right now. I say this in the interests of honesty.”
Korm guffaws and looks at Six. “I love it when he’s diplomatic!”
Six’s metal face shows no response, but Nameless frowns, says, “You’re not helping, Gareth,” and then replies to the Lady, “We wanted nothing more to do with Emrena but she’s the one who attacked us. And through her foolishness she may have released Xoriat on Khorvaire.”
Though the vampire’s face doesn’t change, there is clearly surprise in the voice speaking through him. “Xoriat?”
“Yes, Xoriat, the Realm of Madness, which has been separated from…”
“Yes,” says the Lady, with a trace of impatience, “I know what Xoriat is. But what does this have to do with Emrena?”
“I don’t have time or inclination to go into details, but there was a seed in me which will enable the doors between Xoriat and our world to open once it is planted and comes to full fruit, with my death being required for it to plant itself. And Emrena killed me.”
“I see you have … recovered?”
“Yes,” says Nameless. “Death and I don’t seem to be on speaking terms. Anyhow, now Emrena’s actions mean Xoriat will come again, and apparently you know what that means. We are trying to prevent it, and that’s another reason why we need to deal with Emrena once and for all. We cannot have that f*ck-up showing up and interfering at some crucial moment.”
“I … see,” says the Lady thoughtfully. “This changes the situation drastically. You are sure of this?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. That does not change what I wished to tell you, but it does make it even more appropriate. I contacted you to inform you that Emrena will not be a problem for you any further.”
“Good,” says Nameless. “And to be certain of that, we will need her phylactery.”
The vampire shakes its head mechanically. “No. I shall ensure that she does not bother you ever again.” There is just the faintest flicker of dark humor beneath the bare statement.
“How do we know that?” says Gareth, frowning.
The vampire’s head turns, its yellow gaze studying the paladin. “Because I said so.”
Gareth’s face shows his disbelief, but Nameless quickly says, “Very well. As long as she leaves us alone, we leave her alone.”
“And the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw.” It is a statement, not a question. “As long as you take no further actions against either the Blood of Vol or the Emerald Claw, I have no interest in you. If you do, then you shall be obliterated. Agreed?”
“Yes!” says Six, before anyone else can say anything. The warforged adds, “We are all agreed!” Though a little surprised at the vehemence, none of the others contradict him.
After a couple of seconds, the Lady says, “Good. I am pleased we could come to an agreement. I wish you luck in your quest regarding Xoriat. If I can aid in some way, I shall inform you. Now, I suggest you stand back.”
The Angels don’t bother to ask questions but quickly comply. As they back away, there is a small explosion and the vampire falls in on itself, being reduced to a gray cloud which makes its way sluggishly towards the door.
“Well,” says Korm, “That’s certainly one way to ensure your messenger isn’t tracked back to you. So, Six, why so quick to agree? Not that I’m saying there was anything wrong with that.”
“Because given half a chance you idiots will get me killed. The fewer enemies we have coming after us right now, the better,” explains Six. “And now this is taken care of, we just have Mordain’s memories, a manifest zone in the Marches, and a daelkyr invasion to take care of. Peachy!”
