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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2474458" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>Crossing Karrnath, Chapter 32</strong></p><p></p><p>House Deneith did not respond as rapidly as Marat expected. It took their librarians several days to find out what his letter was talking about. It took nearly a week to get one of the Heirs to look at the report. The letter was specifically addressed to one Shiren d'Deneith of the Blademarks, but of course, others managed to get a copy right along the line. Every clerk and scribe is a spy for somebody. Lord Shiren ignored the letter until he heard that Baron Breven d'Deneith openly denounced wasting House resources on a vendetta. It was enough to get him to read Marat's letter, as well as the report from the House Deneith archives.</p><p></p><p> “Seneschal, get me the Captain.” Lord Shiren called out. “Also, get me the names of the men in the detention halls. And inform Lady Vea that I wish to consult with her.”</p><p></p><p> The Seneschal allowed himself to shudder once he was at a safe distance from his Lord. Lady Vea is a Cleric of Vol, there is something wrong about her. He sent a page to </p><p>the prison and then saw to the Lady personally. She is a guest, and his master expects her to be treated as an Heir.</p><p></p><p>Two days later......</p><p></p><p> Theodyl nearly cooked inside his old widow disguise. Paragon found a ferry that was crewed by war-forged and managed to get a nice deal on the crossing. Juno must have passed Pook's interrogation, the changeling was bragging about his skills to the others. The bard decided the shape shifter was younger than he originally thought. He's not had a chance to brag since the war. Bragging was like a jinx, the Longstriders were very superstitious. Theodyl doesn't miss the habit.</p><p></p><p> The Mror Holds is still far away. Paragon made a separate arrangement for his lads from the freight car. Once that was out of the way Paragon started to make preparations to cross Karrnath. The war is over, and the citizens of the nation aren't his enemies any longer. Paragon is well aware of that. But that knowledge makes absolutely no difference. Paragon supplied the gang with blessed silver daggers, iron bars, ash wood stakes, and various talismans. Theodyl tried to explain that most of the country is populated with real flesh and blood people. Paragon is still fixated on the Karrnathi Dead as well as their ghoulish handlers. The bard is not against destroying them, it's just that the war-forged wouldn't stop at just one or two.</p><p></p><p> “Paragon, we can't invade a bone keep. With luck, we could find work along the border and kill a few then.” Theodyl tried to distract his friend.</p><p></p><p> “I'm not planning an invasion.” Paragon dismissed Theodyl's weak ploy. “I have heard that vampires still haunt the land in between the villages....”</p><p></p><p> “And we shall never know for sure because we are riding a train.” The bard pointed out. “You don't want any trouble between now and the Mror Holds right?”</p><p></p><p> “Harrumph, just keep an eye out.” Paragon warned his friends. “They are sneaky, and you never know when they will strike.”</p><p></p><p> Theodyl did nothing to renew the subject. He remembers how it was. Paragon is just trying to keep them alive, and he doesn't know when to stop. He was about to give out some busy work so that he could go back to his books, when one of the House Orien Porters dropped off a Korrenberg Chronicle. On the cover, towards the bottom, a headline made his heart skip a beat.</p><p></p><p> “House Deneith formally declares a Vendetta.” Theodyl read out loud.</p><p></p><p> A formal letter from one Lord Shirin d'Deneith denouncing one Lt. Theodyl Vair of the Cyre Longstriders for crimes against one General Arquet d'Deneith followed. It must be legal in Karrnath to pursue a blood debt publicly. The article further states that the Blademarks are offering a sizable reward for information leading to Theodyl Vair's capture.</p><p></p><p> “Let me see that.” Paragon ripped the paper from the bard's grasp. “What does this mean? Didn't we settle this before?”</p><p></p><p> “No, we just killed them.” Theodyl pouted. “We took their shiny badges along with their blades and then we ran.”</p><p></p><p> “We should attack first.” Paragon mused. “It is a declaration of war. Are there Articles governing Vendettas?”</p><p></p><p> “Are you serious?” Pook gawked at Paragon.</p><p></p><p> “He's very serious.” Theodyl started digging through his disguise kit. “I don't want to fight a war with House Deneith Paragon.” The war-forged harrumphed. “The Houses don't play fair. We should watch out for assassins, but I don't see the use of taking the fight to them.”</p><p></p><p> “We are not weak.” Paragon protested. “Hitting them now would be a sound strategy. I doubt they will come at us one at a time again. Running will waste our energies and let the enemy choose the battle field, you know this, it's in your books!”</p><p></p><p> “I am not running. They don't know where I am, so we have time to choose our battles.” Theodyl caught himself talking like the war-forged. He cringed. “Listen, we have to get to the Mror Holds. We can disappear again. Now that this Lord Shirin has made this blasted announcement he is going to have to deliver or lose face before the Heirs.”</p><p></p><p> “That still sounds like running. We should at least find out about this Lord Shirin, try to find out what kind of forces he is willing to commit against us. If we can know that, we can have a better idea of how to mount a war against him.”</p><p></p><p> “Fine,” Theodyl growled. Paragon is impossible. “Tonight you can help me draft a formal letter in reply. If this fool wants to put his career on the line for my neck, then I am willing to help him go down in flames.” Theodyl heard a voice in his mind telling him that he is making a mistake. Common sense is going to have to wait a little longer to be heard. “Siff, take your lads and scout the competition, information only. No foolish risks.”</p><p></p><p> “I expected more of a fight from you.” Paragon said.</p><p></p><p> “House Deneith never suffered from the General's fall.” Theodyl stared at the floor. “We can embarrass them some more, perhaps.”</p><p></p><p> “I am very familiar with Deneith fighting forms, tactics, and their most recent training regiments.” Javelin looked up from his meditation. “They have an open court at their Sharn Mercenary Recruitment and Training Center. I don't think they cared if the locals watched them train. Foolish.”</p><p></p><p> “Excellent, we can start tonight.” Paragon pulled Javelin to his feet.</p><p></p><p> “You can start tonight.” Theodyl said as he hurried into his room. “I have to study. A few spells might make a difference. Besides, the letter can't write itself.”</p><p></p><p> Theodyl sang to drown out the sounds of two war-forged beating into each other mercilessly. His translation of the necromantic spells is complete. There are only one or two that he is willing to use. He's improved his Shield spell, and he's managed to speed his casting of Spirit Armor. Once he masters a summoning spell, his study of extra planar magics will begin in earnest. Paragon is going to be impressed.</p><p></p><p> The letter came to him just as boredom struck. He put away his scrolls and pulled out a few precious pieces of vellum. They came out of House Sivis, they provide watermarked stationary to the Houses. These have a House Deneith emblem embossed on the top. They are perfect. All he needs is a few words graciously acknowledge the vendetta, and to establish the pecking order.</p><p></p><p><em>Ser Deneith, </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em> I have received word of your intentions to avenge your General. Please rest assured that the General got everything he deserved. I am disappointed to see that the practice of inter-marriage is still active within House ranks. Perhaps, if you did not suffer from such ill breeding you would have realized what a craven coward the General proved to be in the field of battle. By using that infernal artifact, he denied good fighting men their free will, he betrayed his post, and he violated the sanctity of his office. He is also a murderer decorated with medals that he did not earn. One of the main reasons I did not kill him, is that he was too drunk and senseless to provide for a proper duel. I suggest that if you continue to pursue me, that you not send any particularly valuable members of your House.<em></em></em></p><p><em><em></em></em></p><p><em><em></em>A blessing upon your enemies, <em></em></em></p><p><em><em></em></em></p><p><em><em></em>Lt. Theodyl Vair, Cyre's 1st Regiment Longstriders, Retired.</em></p><p></p><p> Theodyl read the letter twice. He took care to deny Lord Shirin d'Deneith his title and and his status as a Dragon Marked Heir. He also wrote the letter using a familiar tense. To a Noble it is an insult. Theodyl might as well call him a common dog. The attack on the Lord's breeding will add further insult.</p><p></p><p> “What do you think, Paragon?” The bard asked.</p><p></p><p> “I thought you didn't want a war.” The war-forged eyed the half-elf suspiciously. “This is practically a glove to the face, I've read about duels.”</p><p></p><p> “By denying the General's guilt he is murdering the Longstriders all over again.” Theodyl frowned.</p><p></p><p> “So, do you want to raid his manor?” Paragon insisted. “We have enough men for a thorough job. You used to love planning raids.”</p><p></p><p> “No, I want to see his reaction first.” Theodyl said. “If he ignores my insults and takes the time to prepare, then we will know him as worthy enemy.”</p><p></p><p> “And if he doesn't?” Paragon asked.</p><p></p><p> “It doesn't matter, I intend to harass him publicly.” Theodyl smiled. “If he foams at the mouth, it will be easier to discredit him among his peers and the world at large.”</p><p></p><p> “So when do I get to kill Blademarks!?” Paragon growled. “None of what you say sounds anything like a plan of attack!”</p><p></p><p> “Nonsense, this is an action on multiple fronts. We attack his public image and destroy his assassins. We can further confuse the issue by providing a running commentary through the papers, and through a few songs I intend to spread through the taverns. The true details of the General's crime against the troops of the Five Nations will do for a start. I have a copy of my letter and a transcript of the trial ready for the Chronicle.”</p><p></p><p> “You are making this up as you go along, aren't you?” Paragon shook his head.</p><p></p><p> “Have I ever failed you?” Theodyl smiled. “Trust me. You do trust me don't you?” Paragon refused to answer.</p><p></p><p> Paragon left Theodyl to his books. He is beginning to regret sending his lads away on a separate transport. With the changelings off, learning about their new enemy, only he and Javelin remain to watch Theodyl. Paragon would rather have more support in case of trouble. Having the bard change his hair color and talk with a funny accent isn't going to work against an organized man-hunt. Paragon can't wait to reach the Mror Holds.</p><p></p><p>Now, Back in Sharn....</p><p></p><p> Marat looked and his head in the mirror. The lich, Mooneye claimed that his hair loss was an unfortunate accident. So far, none of the remedies that he has tried seem to work. He is very annoyed. Caras has been trying to figure out how to remove the dragon statue from the Sharn Trade House foundation. A sage from House Sivis identified it as a portrait of a dragon named Blackscale Terrorwind. Apparently the City Watch missed the large draconic signature across the tail. The Watch Mages claim that it radiates magic, but they can't tell if it is dangerous or even what it does. Marat doesn't care about a stupid rock. Theodyl's background is incomplete.</p><p></p><p> The letters of recommendation that he used to join the military are forgeries. There is no record of his birth, his family, or even how old he was when he joined. Granted, most of the original records went with Cyre, but House Sivis recovered a lot of material from underground vaults shortly after the disaster. The records from his superiors are interesting. Theodyl showed a remarkable aptitude for planning and tactics. He also showed a talent for magic. Once he joined the Officer's training program, there was no more mention of magic. They needed officers badly. His instructors noted that the half-elf asked specifically to join the Longstriders. Theodyl had a talent for archery, and he was expert with a blade. Over all, there is nothing to show that he would one day become a criminal. Marat sighed and continued to dig. He doesn't know what he is looking for, but he will know it when he sees it.</p><p></p><p>Sharn City Trade House......</p><p></p><p> Caras saw the City Engineers finish their argument with the Watch Mages and decided to cross the street. He put an ornate stone staircase between his body and whatever the magic types are up to. Caras doesn't like the look of the dragon. It is made out of rock, that's been confirmed by every city know-it-all that he's allowed in his presence. The Hussar simply doesn't trust it.</p><p></p><p> The Master Mason and his assistants formed a circle and started waving their magical doodads about. He's found out that they are all contracted from House Cannith, and they are all marked. As the City Engineers started to chant, something started to take shape above their heads. The sounds of clicking and whirring, clanking and whomping started to echo down the street. A great incomprehensible machine came into existence, the City Engineers seemed to be guiding it. Caras saw it move. It is amazing.</p><p></p><p> The incredible machine walked over to the ruins of the Trade House and settled over the massive dragon statue. After more clicking, whirring, clanking, and whomping, the machine lifted the object and started moving towards the nearest ledge. They are going to drop it over the side. Caras idly wondered how, a dragon's portrait, ended up at the top of one of Sharn's towers in the first place.</p><p></p><p> “YOUR GOD DEMANDS TRIBUTE!!!”</p><p></p><p> The voice sounded above the noise generated by the incredible machine. The City Engineers ceased their chanting. The magical construct came to an abrupt halt. It's cargo is moving. Caras watched as the dragon statue tore into the incredible machine. The massive creature hit the ground and roared.</p><p></p><p> “GOLD, MAGIC, GEMS, VIRGINS!!!” The voice came from around the statue and projected in all directions. “YOUR GOD DEMANDS TRIBUTE!!!”</p><p></p><p> The terrible statue started eating the continual flame street lights. A store sign, lit by a nimbus of bright fairy fire went next. The Watch Mages attacked the monster. Their magic only made the statue change targets.</p><p></p><p> “GOLD, MAGIC, GEMS, VIRGINS!!!” The voice continued.</p><p></p><p> Caras ran forward to get behind the mages. The statue roared and breathed a stream of gravel. Two of the mages were buried. The monster paused to dig the bodies up. It seemed to sniff them before swallowing them whole. Caras cursed. The dragon statue continued to dig until it unearthed a bright golden staff. The other mages were outraged. Caras grabbed hold of the sage from House Sivis and dragged him away. The happy schoolboy grin on the wrinkled gnome's face tells him that he's got more to say on the subject of dragon statues.</p><p></p><p> “It is a Golem!!!” The sage said after a thorough shaking. Caras made to shake him again. “It collects tribute for it's creator...please, let me think...just let it be and it will go to sleep again!”</p><p></p><p> Caras picked the gnome up and threw him over his shoulder. He rallied the scattered Watch men and ordered them to clear the area. It took a lot of screaming to get the Watch Mages to lay off the statue. The sage talked his head off at them for almost an hour afterwards. Caras hates city people, it is like they choose to be stupid.</p><p></p><p> “Enough talk, how do we get rid of it?!” Caras broke into their conference. “Is it going to do that every time we try to move it!?”</p><p></p><p> “We can't, we could learn a lot from such a construct.” The Master Mason spoke up.</p><p></p><p> “The Seren islanders pay tribute to their Dragon Gods through just such a device.” The gnome sage spoke up. “Our researchers have a theory that the dragons can communicate through their statues.”</p><p></p><p> “I am not talking to a piece of rock!” Caras growled.</p><p></p><p> “No, of course not! You have to make an offering...and pray to it.” The gnome corrected. “The Dragon, of course, must like what it hears. We lost many researchers until we figured that out....”</p><p></p><p> “And what kind of offering would we have to make?” One of the Watch Mages demanded. “It just ate two of my apprentices and my bloody damn magic staff!!!”</p><p></p><p> “Well...” the gnome cringed. “Magic and Virgins are pretty high on the list for dragons.....Were your pupils virgins?”</p><p></p><p> “What!?” The Watch Mage whirled and closed on the gnome. “I ought to toss you over the edge with that monster, you stunted little bookworm!!!!”</p><p></p><p> “It doesn't need to go that far!” Caras had to step in and save the House Sivis sage. The know-it-all continued to speak. “The dragon Blackscale must want something, else, the statue wouldn't be here!” The gnome capped his revelation with the look of one who is stating the obvious to an inferior audience. Caras wanted to shake him again.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2474458, member: 17151"] [b]Crossing Karrnath, Chapter 32[/b] House Deneith did not respond as rapidly as Marat expected. It took their librarians several days to find out what his letter was talking about. It took nearly a week to get one of the Heirs to look at the report. The letter was specifically addressed to one Shiren d'Deneith of the Blademarks, but of course, others managed to get a copy right along the line. Every clerk and scribe is a spy for somebody. Lord Shiren ignored the letter until he heard that Baron Breven d'Deneith openly denounced wasting House resources on a vendetta. It was enough to get him to read Marat's letter, as well as the report from the House Deneith archives. “Seneschal, get me the Captain.” Lord Shiren called out. “Also, get me the names of the men in the detention halls. And inform Lady Vea that I wish to consult with her.” The Seneschal allowed himself to shudder once he was at a safe distance from his Lord. Lady Vea is a Cleric of Vol, there is something wrong about her. He sent a page to the prison and then saw to the Lady personally. She is a guest, and his master expects her to be treated as an Heir. Two days later...... Theodyl nearly cooked inside his old widow disguise. Paragon found a ferry that was crewed by war-forged and managed to get a nice deal on the crossing. Juno must have passed Pook's interrogation, the changeling was bragging about his skills to the others. The bard decided the shape shifter was younger than he originally thought. He's not had a chance to brag since the war. Bragging was like a jinx, the Longstriders were very superstitious. Theodyl doesn't miss the habit. The Mror Holds is still far away. Paragon made a separate arrangement for his lads from the freight car. Once that was out of the way Paragon started to make preparations to cross Karrnath. The war is over, and the citizens of the nation aren't his enemies any longer. Paragon is well aware of that. But that knowledge makes absolutely no difference. Paragon supplied the gang with blessed silver daggers, iron bars, ash wood stakes, and various talismans. Theodyl tried to explain that most of the country is populated with real flesh and blood people. Paragon is still fixated on the Karrnathi Dead as well as their ghoulish handlers. The bard is not against destroying them, it's just that the war-forged wouldn't stop at just one or two. “Paragon, we can't invade a bone keep. With luck, we could find work along the border and kill a few then.” Theodyl tried to distract his friend. “I'm not planning an invasion.” Paragon dismissed Theodyl's weak ploy. “I have heard that vampires still haunt the land in between the villages....” “And we shall never know for sure because we are riding a train.” The bard pointed out. “You don't want any trouble between now and the Mror Holds right?” “Harrumph, just keep an eye out.” Paragon warned his friends. “They are sneaky, and you never know when they will strike.” Theodyl did nothing to renew the subject. He remembers how it was. Paragon is just trying to keep them alive, and he doesn't know when to stop. He was about to give out some busy work so that he could go back to his books, when one of the House Orien Porters dropped off a Korrenberg Chronicle. On the cover, towards the bottom, a headline made his heart skip a beat. “House Deneith formally declares a Vendetta.” Theodyl read out loud. A formal letter from one Lord Shirin d'Deneith denouncing one Lt. Theodyl Vair of the Cyre Longstriders for crimes against one General Arquet d'Deneith followed. It must be legal in Karrnath to pursue a blood debt publicly. The article further states that the Blademarks are offering a sizable reward for information leading to Theodyl Vair's capture. “Let me see that.” Paragon ripped the paper from the bard's grasp. “What does this mean? Didn't we settle this before?” “No, we just killed them.” Theodyl pouted. “We took their shiny badges along with their blades and then we ran.” “We should attack first.” Paragon mused. “It is a declaration of war. Are there Articles governing Vendettas?” “Are you serious?” Pook gawked at Paragon. “He's very serious.” Theodyl started digging through his disguise kit. “I don't want to fight a war with House Deneith Paragon.” The war-forged harrumphed. “The Houses don't play fair. We should watch out for assassins, but I don't see the use of taking the fight to them.” “We are not weak.” Paragon protested. “Hitting them now would be a sound strategy. I doubt they will come at us one at a time again. Running will waste our energies and let the enemy choose the battle field, you know this, it's in your books!” “I am not running. They don't know where I am, so we have time to choose our battles.” Theodyl caught himself talking like the war-forged. He cringed. “Listen, we have to get to the Mror Holds. We can disappear again. Now that this Lord Shirin has made this blasted announcement he is going to have to deliver or lose face before the Heirs.” “That still sounds like running. We should at least find out about this Lord Shirin, try to find out what kind of forces he is willing to commit against us. If we can know that, we can have a better idea of how to mount a war against him.” “Fine,” Theodyl growled. Paragon is impossible. “Tonight you can help me draft a formal letter in reply. If this fool wants to put his career on the line for my neck, then I am willing to help him go down in flames.” Theodyl heard a voice in his mind telling him that he is making a mistake. Common sense is going to have to wait a little longer to be heard. “Siff, take your lads and scout the competition, information only. No foolish risks.” “I expected more of a fight from you.” Paragon said. “House Deneith never suffered from the General's fall.” Theodyl stared at the floor. “We can embarrass them some more, perhaps.” “I am very familiar with Deneith fighting forms, tactics, and their most recent training regiments.” Javelin looked up from his meditation. “They have an open court at their Sharn Mercenary Recruitment and Training Center. I don't think they cared if the locals watched them train. Foolish.” “Excellent, we can start tonight.” Paragon pulled Javelin to his feet. “You can start tonight.” Theodyl said as he hurried into his room. “I have to study. A few spells might make a difference. Besides, the letter can't write itself.” Theodyl sang to drown out the sounds of two war-forged beating into each other mercilessly. His translation of the necromantic spells is complete. There are only one or two that he is willing to use. He's improved his Shield spell, and he's managed to speed his casting of Spirit Armor. Once he masters a summoning spell, his study of extra planar magics will begin in earnest. Paragon is going to be impressed. The letter came to him just as boredom struck. He put away his scrolls and pulled out a few precious pieces of vellum. They came out of House Sivis, they provide watermarked stationary to the Houses. These have a House Deneith emblem embossed on the top. They are perfect. All he needs is a few words graciously acknowledge the vendetta, and to establish the pecking order. [I]Ser Deneith, I have received word of your intentions to avenge your General. Please rest assured that the General got everything he deserved. I am disappointed to see that the practice of inter-marriage is still active within House ranks. Perhaps, if you did not suffer from such ill breeding you would have realized what a craven coward the General proved to be in the field of battle. By using that infernal artifact, he denied good fighting men their free will, he betrayed his post, and he violated the sanctity of his office. He is also a murderer decorated with medals that he did not earn. One of the main reasons I did not kill him, is that he was too drunk and senseless to provide for a proper duel. I suggest that if you continue to pursue me, that you not send any particularly valuable members of your House.[I] [/I]A blessing upon your enemies, [I] [/I]Lt. Theodyl Vair, Cyre's 1st Regiment Longstriders, Retired.[/I] Theodyl read the letter twice. He took care to deny Lord Shirin d'Deneith his title and and his status as a Dragon Marked Heir. He also wrote the letter using a familiar tense. To a Noble it is an insult. Theodyl might as well call him a common dog. The attack on the Lord's breeding will add further insult. “What do you think, Paragon?” The bard asked. “I thought you didn't want a war.” The war-forged eyed the half-elf suspiciously. “This is practically a glove to the face, I've read about duels.” “By denying the General's guilt he is murdering the Longstriders all over again.” Theodyl frowned. “So, do you want to raid his manor?” Paragon insisted. “We have enough men for a thorough job. You used to love planning raids.” “No, I want to see his reaction first.” Theodyl said. “If he ignores my insults and takes the time to prepare, then we will know him as worthy enemy.” “And if he doesn't?” Paragon asked. “It doesn't matter, I intend to harass him publicly.” Theodyl smiled. “If he foams at the mouth, it will be easier to discredit him among his peers and the world at large.” “So when do I get to kill Blademarks!?” Paragon growled. “None of what you say sounds anything like a plan of attack!” “Nonsense, this is an action on multiple fronts. We attack his public image and destroy his assassins. We can further confuse the issue by providing a running commentary through the papers, and through a few songs I intend to spread through the taverns. The true details of the General's crime against the troops of the Five Nations will do for a start. I have a copy of my letter and a transcript of the trial ready for the Chronicle.” “You are making this up as you go along, aren't you?” Paragon shook his head. “Have I ever failed you?” Theodyl smiled. “Trust me. You do trust me don't you?” Paragon refused to answer. Paragon left Theodyl to his books. He is beginning to regret sending his lads away on a separate transport. With the changelings off, learning about their new enemy, only he and Javelin remain to watch Theodyl. Paragon would rather have more support in case of trouble. Having the bard change his hair color and talk with a funny accent isn't going to work against an organized man-hunt. Paragon can't wait to reach the Mror Holds. Now, Back in Sharn.... Marat looked and his head in the mirror. The lich, Mooneye claimed that his hair loss was an unfortunate accident. So far, none of the remedies that he has tried seem to work. He is very annoyed. Caras has been trying to figure out how to remove the dragon statue from the Sharn Trade House foundation. A sage from House Sivis identified it as a portrait of a dragon named Blackscale Terrorwind. Apparently the City Watch missed the large draconic signature across the tail. The Watch Mages claim that it radiates magic, but they can't tell if it is dangerous or even what it does. Marat doesn't care about a stupid rock. Theodyl's background is incomplete. The letters of recommendation that he used to join the military are forgeries. There is no record of his birth, his family, or even how old he was when he joined. Granted, most of the original records went with Cyre, but House Sivis recovered a lot of material from underground vaults shortly after the disaster. The records from his superiors are interesting. Theodyl showed a remarkable aptitude for planning and tactics. He also showed a talent for magic. Once he joined the Officer's training program, there was no more mention of magic. They needed officers badly. His instructors noted that the half-elf asked specifically to join the Longstriders. Theodyl had a talent for archery, and he was expert with a blade. Over all, there is nothing to show that he would one day become a criminal. Marat sighed and continued to dig. He doesn't know what he is looking for, but he will know it when he sees it. Sharn City Trade House...... Caras saw the City Engineers finish their argument with the Watch Mages and decided to cross the street. He put an ornate stone staircase between his body and whatever the magic types are up to. Caras doesn't like the look of the dragon. It is made out of rock, that's been confirmed by every city know-it-all that he's allowed in his presence. The Hussar simply doesn't trust it. The Master Mason and his assistants formed a circle and started waving their magical doodads about. He's found out that they are all contracted from House Cannith, and they are all marked. As the City Engineers started to chant, something started to take shape above their heads. The sounds of clicking and whirring, clanking and whomping started to echo down the street. A great incomprehensible machine came into existence, the City Engineers seemed to be guiding it. Caras saw it move. It is amazing. The incredible machine walked over to the ruins of the Trade House and settled over the massive dragon statue. After more clicking, whirring, clanking, and whomping, the machine lifted the object and started moving towards the nearest ledge. They are going to drop it over the side. Caras idly wondered how, a dragon's portrait, ended up at the top of one of Sharn's towers in the first place. “YOUR GOD DEMANDS TRIBUTE!!!” The voice sounded above the noise generated by the incredible machine. The City Engineers ceased their chanting. The magical construct came to an abrupt halt. It's cargo is moving. Caras watched as the dragon statue tore into the incredible machine. The massive creature hit the ground and roared. “GOLD, MAGIC, GEMS, VIRGINS!!!” The voice came from around the statue and projected in all directions. “YOUR GOD DEMANDS TRIBUTE!!!” The terrible statue started eating the continual flame street lights. A store sign, lit by a nimbus of bright fairy fire went next. The Watch Mages attacked the monster. Their magic only made the statue change targets. “GOLD, MAGIC, GEMS, VIRGINS!!!” The voice continued. Caras ran forward to get behind the mages. The statue roared and breathed a stream of gravel. Two of the mages were buried. The monster paused to dig the bodies up. It seemed to sniff them before swallowing them whole. Caras cursed. The dragon statue continued to dig until it unearthed a bright golden staff. The other mages were outraged. Caras grabbed hold of the sage from House Sivis and dragged him away. The happy schoolboy grin on the wrinkled gnome's face tells him that he's got more to say on the subject of dragon statues. “It is a Golem!!!” The sage said after a thorough shaking. Caras made to shake him again. “It collects tribute for it's creator...please, let me think...just let it be and it will go to sleep again!” Caras picked the gnome up and threw him over his shoulder. He rallied the scattered Watch men and ordered them to clear the area. It took a lot of screaming to get the Watch Mages to lay off the statue. The sage talked his head off at them for almost an hour afterwards. Caras hates city people, it is like they choose to be stupid. “Enough talk, how do we get rid of it?!” Caras broke into their conference. “Is it going to do that every time we try to move it!?” “We can't, we could learn a lot from such a construct.” The Master Mason spoke up. “The Seren islanders pay tribute to their Dragon Gods through just such a device.” The gnome sage spoke up. “Our researchers have a theory that the dragons can communicate through their statues.” “I am not talking to a piece of rock!” Caras growled. “No, of course not! You have to make an offering...and pray to it.” The gnome corrected. “The Dragon, of course, must like what it hears. We lost many researchers until we figured that out....” “And what kind of offering would we have to make?” One of the Watch Mages demanded. “It just ate two of my apprentices and my bloody damn magic staff!!!” “Well...” the gnome cringed. “Magic and Virgins are pretty high on the list for dragons.....Were your pupils virgins?” “What!?” The Watch Mage whirled and closed on the gnome. “I ought to toss you over the edge with that monster, you stunted little bookworm!!!!” “It doesn't need to go that far!” Caras had to step in and save the House Sivis sage. The know-it-all continued to speak. “The dragon Blackscale must want something, else, the statue wouldn't be here!” The gnome capped his revelation with the look of one who is stating the obvious to an inferior audience. Caras wanted to shake him again. [/QUOTE]
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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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