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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2440697" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>Rescue Me, Chapter 24</strong></p><p></p><p>Marat crumpled the Sharn Anonymous in his hands and cursed. The Twelve sent him to find out how the Lord of Blades managed to sneak Hag's Plague into the City of Sharn. Well, that is what the City Council thinks, the Treaty of Thronehold is more important than even that. All it would take is one nation blaming another and war could break out again. The Hag's Plague is just the thing to stir up just that kind of trouble. He needs to find out where it came from. The Twelve want whomever is responsible incinerated. Breland volunteered an entire division of Hussars to assist him. It was a surprise, but his first loyalty is to the Twelve Houses and their continued health, without war.</p><p></p><p> “Tell me, who is responsible for this!” Marat demanded.</p><p></p><p> “How the hell should I know?” Paragon rasped. He is strapped to a large metal table. Three Cannith Adepts have been working on him for over an hour. “Did I tell you that I was going to turn you inside out?”</p><p></p><p> “We were able to salvage a Final Messenger from the pump room.” the wizard said as the Adepts continued to torture the war-forged. “You gave Sarok your name. Who commanded you to raid the pump rooms? Who is the gnome woman? Where is she now?”</p><p></p><p> “I am under contract to Thersyl d'Morgain,” Paragon responded as the world started to spin, “you should ask him before I catch up with you.”</p><p></p><p> The Cannith Adepts channeled pain into Paragon's frame until he passed out. The wizard, Marat sat and stared at the war-forged. It is a stubborn bastard. For some reason the Adepts have trouble controlling him. Thersyl or Theodyl, whatever he is, has eluded them so far. Paragon killed his best man-catchers. Sixteen Hussars are bedridden due to an ambush at the inn. His apprentice is missing. Marat signaled the Adepts to wake the prisoner. Despite their inhuman composition, war-forged fear death just like everything else that lives. Paragon will break, it is just a matter of time.</p><p></p><p> “What is your unit number?!”</p><p></p><p> “Your Mother.”</p><p></p><p> “Who is your commander?!”</p><p></p><p> “Not you, that's for sure.”</p><p></p><p> “If you don't cooperate you will be dismantled!”</p><p></p><p> “I will die laughing at you.”</p><p></p><p> “Where is Eunice Nigma? Who does she serve?”</p><p></p><p> “I am getting bored. When my friends get here, I will feed you my chains.”</p><p></p><p> Marat let the Cannith Adepts work the prisoner over until he was unconscious once more. Paragon is probably crazy, if that's possible with his kind. The Adepts want a freer hand with the interrogation. The war-forged is exhibiting a unique resistance to House Cannith control. The fact that he is associated with an unknown, possibly a rogue Cannith, is driving the local Heirs into a panic. The rogue war-forged from Cyre are enough of an embarrassment to them. They just can't seem to live that down.</p><p></p><p> Paragon lay still and listened to his interrogators. He's never felt pain on that level. The Adepts are hurting him and he is helpless to fight back. The odd sensations of pain and discomfort are doing little to ease his distress. The strange emotion he experienced inside the cell earlier has not gone away. If anything it is getting stronger. It feels like every emotion he's ever felt burning through him all at once. The wizard doesn't know about the wand sheaths in his arms, neither does he know about the golden circlet just beneath the metal skin over his head. His body aches, but deep inside he knows he can take a lot of them with him when he makes his move. The chains holding his torso are loosening.</p><p></p><p> Pyrus led fifteen war-forged into the sewers. Theodyl took only five, he's got the changelings with him too. A game of rock, paper, scissors eliminated most of the eager volunteers back at the warehouse. The bard does have a surprising amount of talent, then again, this trouble is his fault. Somehow, the bard cheated to cut down on volunteers. As a mage, Pyrus finds it extremely disturbing that he can't figure out how Theodyl did it. It occurs to him that the half-elf is playing a big game and that only he knows the rules.</p><p></p><p> The Cannith Depot is the tallest building on the street. There are no windows, the street lamps reveal nothing but stone and brick. The sign for Lucy's Basement is the only thing anyone would pay attention to. Theodyl had his friends line up behind him in the alleyway. Argus and Pennelocles helped their friends from the club. The changelings had the instructions down pat. They helped the war-forged keep pace. Theodyl drew his flute. As it touched his mouth, he placed his right foot forward. The men lined up behind, did the same. He started to play stepping deliberately as the music took shape. </p><p></p><p> The Fey have a way of traveling between places by means of a magical dance. Theodyl has been working on a similar kind of magic. As the music speeds up so do his steps. The others fell into the music and followed his every move. They danced into the Etherial. The walls of the depot are like mist in that world. Theodyl and his friends drifted through the building like ghosts leaving a trail of faint music in their wake.</p><p></p><p> Marat sat with Commander Caras discussing the progress of their joint investigations. There is another copy of the Sharn Anonymous lying between them. It is a bigger problem now that Mooneye Rocco has been identified. The Necromancer hasn't been heard from in decades. Apart from playing a minor role in Sharn's defense during the war, the creature is pretty much an outcast. The Lich's true role in the Hag's Plague Affair is in doubt, however. Marat and Caras have found a thousand holes in the rag sheet's story. The Twelve require answers, not mysteries. Marat sighed, he was about to say something, but an eerie sort of music filled the room.</p><p></p><p> “What the hell is that?” The wizard wondered out loud. A great rumbling sound was his only answer.</p><p></p><p> Pyrus blasted a hole into the Depot's floor from the sewers below. The war-forged did not waste a moment. They formed a ladder from their own bodies and swarmed the building. Some of them are laughing, it is just like the team building exercises at the Cannith Training Halls. Their weapons are padded, but the Hussars rushing to defend the property could care less. It is going to be a fight.</p><p></p><p> Theodyl ended the music when they reached Paragon. The war-forged took care of the Cannith Adepts. Even among their own kind, torture is repugnant, it is the complete opposite of fighting. The bard had to remind them not to do anything permanent. He is thinking that he's got enough enemies without angering an entire House.</p><p></p><p> “Hurry up and set me loose!” Paragon demanded. “I have promises to keep! That wizard is going to learn not to mess with a Longstrider!!!!”</p><p></p><p> “Err, Paragon....”</p><p></p><p> “Shut it! I will have words for you later Theodyl.” the war-forged growled.</p><p></p><p> Paragon 157 to 4 snatched a Wand of Repair away from his friends and jogged away. The lads followed. The bard turned to the Cannith Adepts and started asking questions. They have been thoroughly intimidated, it didn't take long to figure out what Paragon was talking about.</p><p></p><p> “We can't let him kill one of the Twelve!” He said in a panic. “We have enough troubles! Gods, if the Hussars call a blood debt, my life is over!! Hurry up and find him!”</p><p></p><p> The fight in the depot is in full swing. Pyrus has sealed all the exits with sigils of writhing flame. The Hussars are fighting like the Elite Soldiers that they are. The war-forged are fighting to subdue the men, while the men do their utmost to kill the enemy before them. Pyrus expected many casualties, but somehow Theodyl has them convinced that killing Hussars is a bad idea. This is yet another sign that Theodyl makes use of strange talents. Mayhap, Mooneye the Necromancer is justified in his pursuit of the half-elf. Pyrus wants to know more.</p><p></p><p> A knot of Hussars shielded Marat, Caras did his best to protect him. Breland has commanded it, that is all that matters. Paragon started to bellow threats and curses as he caught sight of the wizard. Caras and his men placed themselves in between the wizard and the war-forged maniac.</p><p></p><p> “Paragon, that's enough!” Theodyl's voice cut through the din of battle. “I remember the Hussars, they fought along side our ranks in Karrnath. They are comrades, a Longstrider would not dishonor such a bond!”</p><p></p><p> “Bah! I don't want them, I want the wizard.” Paragon snatched his blade from a weapon's rack. The thought that a hand other than his touched his new weapon added to his rage. He used it to slice through an innocent column just to scare the hell out of the wizard.</p><p></p><p> “The Hussars are guarding him, are you going to kill them too?” Theodyl pressed. “Caras, call your men off, this fight is over! Paragon hold! Please, you can still have your vengeance. Trust me, killing will just make this worse. Let me work.”</p><p></p><p> “You have until I count to a thousand.” The angry war-forged waved his lads back. The Hussars did not press the attack, it is a chance for them to catch their breaths.</p><p></p><p> Caras took a good look at his men. They are surrounded and trapped. Half of them have been knocked senseless. The others are still out combing the city, it will be hours before they return. Marat is no warmage, he is a librarian and his magic is no match for the flaming demon warding the doors. Marat wasted his best magic subduing the war-forged as second time for the interrogation. It nearly escaped. Words may have a better chance of ending the conflict.</p><p></p><p> “Marat, I suggest we speak to the half-elf.” Caras spoke to his charge, “I don't think this will end well otherwise.”</p><p></p><p> Once the negotiations were open, things took a turn for the better. Theodyl may have given away his credit for the actions below, but he still wants to brag. Marat couldn't take his notes fast enough. Paragon 157 to 4 sat and stared at the Hussars. His men did the same. The Hussars did their best to hold up under the inhuman stares. It is something that they may never admit to, but they would have died fighting. Their commander, Caras, is the only reason they will not attack.</p><p></p><p> “Tell me, who is this Eunice Nigma woman?” Marat asked. His head is starting to hurt. Theodyl should be working for the Twelve instead of wandering the continent causing trouble. Paragon's droning count isn't helping, either.</p><p></p><p> “She is an independent contractor, very skilled.” The bard replied, “I'm not free to discuss her business. Rest assured, she is no threat to Breland.” Pook beamed at Theodyl's compliment, Ivor rolled his eyes. Patter and Siff signed to one another. What a crock the first said. He must be made completely out of hot air, the other agreed.</p><p></p><p> “What about House Cannith?” The wizard pushed. “She was wearing their colors and using their retainers.”</p><p></p><p> “Politics, hardly my problem.” Theodyl shrugged. “Let them deal with their own, I say.”</p><p></p><p> “There is a lie somewhere in there,” Marat frowned. “Where does the Necromancer fit in?”</p><p></p><p> “Master Mooneye is fiercely protective of the city of his birth.” The bard sighed, “He was very upset about the Hag's Plague. I took the opportunity to let the city know of his greatness.”</p><p></p><p> “Just how upset?” The wizard leaned into the bard. “There are a number of rather disturbing events that I am concerned with. Why did you attack the renegades in the first place? And who is the gnome woman they were holding hostage?”</p><p></p><p> Theodyl smiled. He demanded a hefty sum of gold in exchange for his candor. It is then that the wizard popped his lid. The bard weathered his rage somehow. In a matter of minutes they were arguing about the price. Theodyl is very skilled with words. Pyrus struggled to keep up with all the verbal maneuvering. He gave up trying to tell the lies from the half-truths. The war-forged pyromancer will memorize the exchange and then take it apart at his leisure. At first, he thought the half-elf was amusing, now he is starting to think that the bard is very dangerous. Paragon calls him a brother, but Pyrus can't trust the half-elf.</p><p> </p><p> “Granted, Moro Taller and his family will come under my protection. A position at the Khorvaire University Library will become available to him once his new identity is in place.” Marat shook his head. “Now, what about this Cyre Manuscript? Do you still have it?”</p><p></p><p> “Sure, I will give you a free copy.” Theodyl said with a wide smile. “The fools at House Cannith will have to pay for the original. Lady Nigma would not be happy otherwise.”</p><p></p><p> “So her agenda, then, is to embarrass her rivals?” The wizard looked to Theodyl's face for some sort of confirmation. “What about House Sivis? I am sure that you had something to do with the fire at their Scribe's Guild.” </p><p></p><p> “Master Marat, how could you think such a thing?” The half-elf said with a pained look in his eyes. “As I understand it, the Fire Salamander they imprisoned on their property broke loose. Perhaps, the gnomes could have been nicer to their guest.”</p><p></p><p> “And what about the Iron Golem? Surely it wasn't a coincidence that it was sabotaged. The more I talk with you, the deeper you drag me in.” Marat grumbled as he eyed a copy of the Sharn Anonymous. “The manuscript came from the Scribe's Guild Library, we both know that. Yet, you keep dodging my inquiries. How can I be sure you are not lying to me about other things?”</p><p></p><p> “Master Mooneye would be most glad to meet a Learned Scholar such as yourself. He never lies. Inquisitor Niabelis hired me to track the war-forged, she still owes me for delivery. I am sure that she would love to talk about me.” Theodyl smiled as he spoke. “Torture won't work with them either, just so you know.”</p><p></p><p> “What about your friend Paragon?” The wizard shifted in his seat. “Are you going to let him kill me?”</p><p></p><p> “Not at all, Master Marat.” The bard's smile turned predatory. “He dreams of starting a Mercenary Company. It seems to me, that a Letter of Recommendation from your esteemed person could help his efforts along. Pride cuts deeper than steel, the elves say.”</p><p></p><p> “Are you crazy?!” Marat pounded the table with his fist. “He killed by best trackers and destroyed some very expensive Clockwork Soldiers.”</p><p></p><p> “He is Dedicated, Forthright, and Nigh Unstoppable once properly motivated. His men are exceptionally trained and disciplined. Twenty-five of them overwhelmed your sanctuary without a drop of blood.” Theodyl paused long enough for his words to sink in. “You have seen his talent, he works every moment of everyday to live up to his name. Paragon is the best.”</p><p></p><p> “He's a killer! Tell me, what is he to you?”</p><p></p><p> “He is my brother. We served with the Longstriders at Karrnath.”</p><p></p><p> “If I am giving you a letter I expect certain things. Will you accept my terms?” The wizard demanded.</p><p></p><p> “The letter in exchange for your health Master Marat.” Theodyl corrected the wizard. “I work for gold, not paper.”</p><p></p><p> “No, that will not do!” Marat fumed.</p><p></p><p> “It will have to. You picked a fight with us and we won, not the other way around. You are lucky that I am willing to talk at all.” </p><p></p><p> “The Hussars do not negotiate with criminals.” Caras interrupted. Paragon skipped from 846 to 947. The wizard twitched.</p><p></p><p> “Quiet Hussar! You kidnap innocent men and put them to the question! I say you are the criminal here!” Theodyl hollered, “Are we to be criminals for saving our home from an enemy you should have kept from our borders!? I think not!!” Several of the war-forged joined the protest. “What say you wizard?” Paragon started spinning his blade.</p><p></p><p> “Alright, I will agree to the letter, but you will have to collect the gold tomorrow. I don't carry trade bars about.” Marat relented.</p><p></p><p> “I understand. A letter to House Kundarak shouldn't be too much trouble for you, would it? I think Paragon is done counting.” The bard closed the deal. Twenty thousand gold is enough to make up for their inconvenience. Caras made a sour face as the wizard placed his mark on the parchments before him.</p><p></p><p> Paragon 157 to 4 roared. The sound shook the depot, spreading dread through his enemies and bolstering his allies. The war-forged turned and jumped down into the sewers. His lads followed, turning their backs on the Hussars, adding insult to injury. Paragon understands now, the storm raging within him just needed release. He is elated, he is sure that it is a sign from Dol Dorn. Theodyl bowed politely and made his exit. The changelings kept him covered. Marat and Caras looked at each other for a long time. It will be a while before they get themselves sorted out. They can't give chase and the bastards are counting on it. The Hussars will not forget.</p><p></p><p> “Worry not Caras, I wager those two will be easy to find.” The wizard said.</p><p></p><p> “I have never been so humiliated.” Commander Caras spoke through his teeth. “They caught us with our eyes closed, it won't happen again.”</p><p></p><p> “Have someone look into Theodyl Vair's Millitary Records, do the same for Paragon at House Cannith. We must get to know them if we are to beat them.” The wizard patted the Hussar on his shoulder.</p><p></p><p> “They mentioned Karrnath, only the best came back from there.” Caras reminisced. “The Longstriders served as special scouts and infantry. They formed teams to hunt vampires and ghouls, they kept us alive while we slept. I don't like this. They often went mad from such work.” Caras sheathed his blade. “That bard, I think he is dangerous.”</p><p></p><p> “I want to meet with the Inquisitor Niabelis tomorrow.” The wizard shook his head. “The Necromancer may prove difficult, but we must arrange to speak with him as well.” Caras made a face. “If the half-elf's story doesn't hold up, I will personally sign his warrant. Espionage, Blackmail, Tampering with State Evidence, and Trading in State Secrets, will do for a start. The Hussars will of course take care of his capture.”</p><p></p><p> “It will be done.” Caras walked away wearing a dangerous smile. Every single one of those charges calls for an execution.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2440697, member: 17151"] [b]Rescue Me, Chapter 24[/b] Marat crumpled the Sharn Anonymous in his hands and cursed. The Twelve sent him to find out how the Lord of Blades managed to sneak Hag's Plague into the City of Sharn. Well, that is what the City Council thinks, the Treaty of Thronehold is more important than even that. All it would take is one nation blaming another and war could break out again. The Hag's Plague is just the thing to stir up just that kind of trouble. He needs to find out where it came from. The Twelve want whomever is responsible incinerated. Breland volunteered an entire division of Hussars to assist him. It was a surprise, but his first loyalty is to the Twelve Houses and their continued health, without war. “Tell me, who is responsible for this!” Marat demanded. “How the hell should I know?” Paragon rasped. He is strapped to a large metal table. Three Cannith Adepts have been working on him for over an hour. “Did I tell you that I was going to turn you inside out?” “We were able to salvage a Final Messenger from the pump room.” the wizard said as the Adepts continued to torture the war-forged. “You gave Sarok your name. Who commanded you to raid the pump rooms? Who is the gnome woman? Where is she now?” “I am under contract to Thersyl d'Morgain,” Paragon responded as the world started to spin, “you should ask him before I catch up with you.” The Cannith Adepts channeled pain into Paragon's frame until he passed out. The wizard, Marat sat and stared at the war-forged. It is a stubborn bastard. For some reason the Adepts have trouble controlling him. Thersyl or Theodyl, whatever he is, has eluded them so far. Paragon killed his best man-catchers. Sixteen Hussars are bedridden due to an ambush at the inn. His apprentice is missing. Marat signaled the Adepts to wake the prisoner. Despite their inhuman composition, war-forged fear death just like everything else that lives. Paragon will break, it is just a matter of time. “What is your unit number?!” “Your Mother.” “Who is your commander?!” “Not you, that's for sure.” “If you don't cooperate you will be dismantled!” “I will die laughing at you.” “Where is Eunice Nigma? Who does she serve?” “I am getting bored. When my friends get here, I will feed you my chains.” Marat let the Cannith Adepts work the prisoner over until he was unconscious once more. Paragon is probably crazy, if that's possible with his kind. The Adepts want a freer hand with the interrogation. The war-forged is exhibiting a unique resistance to House Cannith control. The fact that he is associated with an unknown, possibly a rogue Cannith, is driving the local Heirs into a panic. The rogue war-forged from Cyre are enough of an embarrassment to them. They just can't seem to live that down. Paragon lay still and listened to his interrogators. He's never felt pain on that level. The Adepts are hurting him and he is helpless to fight back. The odd sensations of pain and discomfort are doing little to ease his distress. The strange emotion he experienced inside the cell earlier has not gone away. If anything it is getting stronger. It feels like every emotion he's ever felt burning through him all at once. The wizard doesn't know about the wand sheaths in his arms, neither does he know about the golden circlet just beneath the metal skin over his head. His body aches, but deep inside he knows he can take a lot of them with him when he makes his move. The chains holding his torso are loosening. Pyrus led fifteen war-forged into the sewers. Theodyl took only five, he's got the changelings with him too. A game of rock, paper, scissors eliminated most of the eager volunteers back at the warehouse. The bard does have a surprising amount of talent, then again, this trouble is his fault. Somehow, the bard cheated to cut down on volunteers. As a mage, Pyrus finds it extremely disturbing that he can't figure out how Theodyl did it. It occurs to him that the half-elf is playing a big game and that only he knows the rules. The Cannith Depot is the tallest building on the street. There are no windows, the street lamps reveal nothing but stone and brick. The sign for Lucy's Basement is the only thing anyone would pay attention to. Theodyl had his friends line up behind him in the alleyway. Argus and Pennelocles helped their friends from the club. The changelings had the instructions down pat. They helped the war-forged keep pace. Theodyl drew his flute. As it touched his mouth, he placed his right foot forward. The men lined up behind, did the same. He started to play stepping deliberately as the music took shape. The Fey have a way of traveling between places by means of a magical dance. Theodyl has been working on a similar kind of magic. As the music speeds up so do his steps. The others fell into the music and followed his every move. They danced into the Etherial. The walls of the depot are like mist in that world. Theodyl and his friends drifted through the building like ghosts leaving a trail of faint music in their wake. Marat sat with Commander Caras discussing the progress of their joint investigations. There is another copy of the Sharn Anonymous lying between them. It is a bigger problem now that Mooneye Rocco has been identified. The Necromancer hasn't been heard from in decades. Apart from playing a minor role in Sharn's defense during the war, the creature is pretty much an outcast. The Lich's true role in the Hag's Plague Affair is in doubt, however. Marat and Caras have found a thousand holes in the rag sheet's story. The Twelve require answers, not mysteries. Marat sighed, he was about to say something, but an eerie sort of music filled the room. “What the hell is that?” The wizard wondered out loud. A great rumbling sound was his only answer. Pyrus blasted a hole into the Depot's floor from the sewers below. The war-forged did not waste a moment. They formed a ladder from their own bodies and swarmed the building. Some of them are laughing, it is just like the team building exercises at the Cannith Training Halls. Their weapons are padded, but the Hussars rushing to defend the property could care less. It is going to be a fight. Theodyl ended the music when they reached Paragon. The war-forged took care of the Cannith Adepts. Even among their own kind, torture is repugnant, it is the complete opposite of fighting. The bard had to remind them not to do anything permanent. He is thinking that he's got enough enemies without angering an entire House. “Hurry up and set me loose!” Paragon demanded. “I have promises to keep! That wizard is going to learn not to mess with a Longstrider!!!!” “Err, Paragon....” “Shut it! I will have words for you later Theodyl.” the war-forged growled. Paragon 157 to 4 snatched a Wand of Repair away from his friends and jogged away. The lads followed. The bard turned to the Cannith Adepts and started asking questions. They have been thoroughly intimidated, it didn't take long to figure out what Paragon was talking about. “We can't let him kill one of the Twelve!” He said in a panic. “We have enough troubles! Gods, if the Hussars call a blood debt, my life is over!! Hurry up and find him!” The fight in the depot is in full swing. Pyrus has sealed all the exits with sigils of writhing flame. The Hussars are fighting like the Elite Soldiers that they are. The war-forged are fighting to subdue the men, while the men do their utmost to kill the enemy before them. Pyrus expected many casualties, but somehow Theodyl has them convinced that killing Hussars is a bad idea. This is yet another sign that Theodyl makes use of strange talents. Mayhap, Mooneye the Necromancer is justified in his pursuit of the half-elf. Pyrus wants to know more. A knot of Hussars shielded Marat, Caras did his best to protect him. Breland has commanded it, that is all that matters. Paragon started to bellow threats and curses as he caught sight of the wizard. Caras and his men placed themselves in between the wizard and the war-forged maniac. “Paragon, that's enough!” Theodyl's voice cut through the din of battle. “I remember the Hussars, they fought along side our ranks in Karrnath. They are comrades, a Longstrider would not dishonor such a bond!” “Bah! I don't want them, I want the wizard.” Paragon snatched his blade from a weapon's rack. The thought that a hand other than his touched his new weapon added to his rage. He used it to slice through an innocent column just to scare the hell out of the wizard. “The Hussars are guarding him, are you going to kill them too?” Theodyl pressed. “Caras, call your men off, this fight is over! Paragon hold! Please, you can still have your vengeance. Trust me, killing will just make this worse. Let me work.” “You have until I count to a thousand.” The angry war-forged waved his lads back. The Hussars did not press the attack, it is a chance for them to catch their breaths. Caras took a good look at his men. They are surrounded and trapped. Half of them have been knocked senseless. The others are still out combing the city, it will be hours before they return. Marat is no warmage, he is a librarian and his magic is no match for the flaming demon warding the doors. Marat wasted his best magic subduing the war-forged as second time for the interrogation. It nearly escaped. Words may have a better chance of ending the conflict. “Marat, I suggest we speak to the half-elf.” Caras spoke to his charge, “I don't think this will end well otherwise.” Once the negotiations were open, things took a turn for the better. Theodyl may have given away his credit for the actions below, but he still wants to brag. Marat couldn't take his notes fast enough. Paragon 157 to 4 sat and stared at the Hussars. His men did the same. The Hussars did their best to hold up under the inhuman stares. It is something that they may never admit to, but they would have died fighting. Their commander, Caras, is the only reason they will not attack. “Tell me, who is this Eunice Nigma woman?” Marat asked. His head is starting to hurt. Theodyl should be working for the Twelve instead of wandering the continent causing trouble. Paragon's droning count isn't helping, either. “She is an independent contractor, very skilled.” The bard replied, “I'm not free to discuss her business. Rest assured, she is no threat to Breland.” Pook beamed at Theodyl's compliment, Ivor rolled his eyes. Patter and Siff signed to one another. What a crock the first said. He must be made completely out of hot air, the other agreed. “What about House Cannith?” The wizard pushed. “She was wearing their colors and using their retainers.” “Politics, hardly my problem.” Theodyl shrugged. “Let them deal with their own, I say.” “There is a lie somewhere in there,” Marat frowned. “Where does the Necromancer fit in?” “Master Mooneye is fiercely protective of the city of his birth.” The bard sighed, “He was very upset about the Hag's Plague. I took the opportunity to let the city know of his greatness.” “Just how upset?” The wizard leaned into the bard. “There are a number of rather disturbing events that I am concerned with. Why did you attack the renegades in the first place? And who is the gnome woman they were holding hostage?” Theodyl smiled. He demanded a hefty sum of gold in exchange for his candor. It is then that the wizard popped his lid. The bard weathered his rage somehow. In a matter of minutes they were arguing about the price. Theodyl is very skilled with words. Pyrus struggled to keep up with all the verbal maneuvering. He gave up trying to tell the lies from the half-truths. The war-forged pyromancer will memorize the exchange and then take it apart at his leisure. At first, he thought the half-elf was amusing, now he is starting to think that the bard is very dangerous. Paragon calls him a brother, but Pyrus can't trust the half-elf. “Granted, Moro Taller and his family will come under my protection. A position at the Khorvaire University Library will become available to him once his new identity is in place.” Marat shook his head. “Now, what about this Cyre Manuscript? Do you still have it?” “Sure, I will give you a free copy.” Theodyl said with a wide smile. “The fools at House Cannith will have to pay for the original. Lady Nigma would not be happy otherwise.” “So her agenda, then, is to embarrass her rivals?” The wizard looked to Theodyl's face for some sort of confirmation. “What about House Sivis? I am sure that you had something to do with the fire at their Scribe's Guild.” “Master Marat, how could you think such a thing?” The half-elf said with a pained look in his eyes. “As I understand it, the Fire Salamander they imprisoned on their property broke loose. Perhaps, the gnomes could have been nicer to their guest.” “And what about the Iron Golem? Surely it wasn't a coincidence that it was sabotaged. The more I talk with you, the deeper you drag me in.” Marat grumbled as he eyed a copy of the Sharn Anonymous. “The manuscript came from the Scribe's Guild Library, we both know that. Yet, you keep dodging my inquiries. How can I be sure you are not lying to me about other things?” “Master Mooneye would be most glad to meet a Learned Scholar such as yourself. He never lies. Inquisitor Niabelis hired me to track the war-forged, she still owes me for delivery. I am sure that she would love to talk about me.” Theodyl smiled as he spoke. “Torture won't work with them either, just so you know.” “What about your friend Paragon?” The wizard shifted in his seat. “Are you going to let him kill me?” “Not at all, Master Marat.” The bard's smile turned predatory. “He dreams of starting a Mercenary Company. It seems to me, that a Letter of Recommendation from your esteemed person could help his efforts along. Pride cuts deeper than steel, the elves say.” “Are you crazy?!” Marat pounded the table with his fist. “He killed by best trackers and destroyed some very expensive Clockwork Soldiers.” “He is Dedicated, Forthright, and Nigh Unstoppable once properly motivated. His men are exceptionally trained and disciplined. Twenty-five of them overwhelmed your sanctuary without a drop of blood.” Theodyl paused long enough for his words to sink in. “You have seen his talent, he works every moment of everyday to live up to his name. Paragon is the best.” “He's a killer! Tell me, what is he to you?” “He is my brother. We served with the Longstriders at Karrnath.” “If I am giving you a letter I expect certain things. Will you accept my terms?” The wizard demanded. “The letter in exchange for your health Master Marat.” Theodyl corrected the wizard. “I work for gold, not paper.” “No, that will not do!” Marat fumed. “It will have to. You picked a fight with us and we won, not the other way around. You are lucky that I am willing to talk at all.” “The Hussars do not negotiate with criminals.” Caras interrupted. Paragon skipped from 846 to 947. The wizard twitched. “Quiet Hussar! You kidnap innocent men and put them to the question! I say you are the criminal here!” Theodyl hollered, “Are we to be criminals for saving our home from an enemy you should have kept from our borders!? I think not!!” Several of the war-forged joined the protest. “What say you wizard?” Paragon started spinning his blade. “Alright, I will agree to the letter, but you will have to collect the gold tomorrow. I don't carry trade bars about.” Marat relented. “I understand. A letter to House Kundarak shouldn't be too much trouble for you, would it? I think Paragon is done counting.” The bard closed the deal. Twenty thousand gold is enough to make up for their inconvenience. Caras made a sour face as the wizard placed his mark on the parchments before him. Paragon 157 to 4 roared. The sound shook the depot, spreading dread through his enemies and bolstering his allies. The war-forged turned and jumped down into the sewers. His lads followed, turning their backs on the Hussars, adding insult to injury. Paragon understands now, the storm raging within him just needed release. He is elated, he is sure that it is a sign from Dol Dorn. Theodyl bowed politely and made his exit. The changelings kept him covered. Marat and Caras looked at each other for a long time. It will be a while before they get themselves sorted out. They can't give chase and the bastards are counting on it. The Hussars will not forget. “Worry not Caras, I wager those two will be easy to find.” The wizard said. “I have never been so humiliated.” Commander Caras spoke through his teeth. “They caught us with our eyes closed, it won't happen again.” “Have someone look into Theodyl Vair's Millitary Records, do the same for Paragon at House Cannith. We must get to know them if we are to beat them.” The wizard patted the Hussar on his shoulder. “They mentioned Karrnath, only the best came back from there.” Caras reminisced. “The Longstriders served as special scouts and infantry. They formed teams to hunt vampires and ghouls, they kept us alive while we slept. I don't like this. They often went mad from such work.” Caras sheathed his blade. “That bard, I think he is dangerous.” “I want to meet with the Inquisitor Niabelis tomorrow.” The wizard shook his head. “The Necromancer may prove difficult, but we must arrange to speak with him as well.” Caras made a face. “If the half-elf's story doesn't hold up, I will personally sign his warrant. Espionage, Blackmail, Tampering with State Evidence, and Trading in State Secrets, will do for a start. The Hussars will of course take care of his capture.” “It will be done.” Caras walked away wearing a dangerous smile. Every single one of those charges calls for an execution. [/QUOTE]
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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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