shilsen
Adventurer
Regent Moranna meets the Angels in a plainly appointed meeting room, the only decoration a small banner which hangs above her chair, bearing Karrnath’s national symbol of a roaring lion in red. “Please be seated,” she says as they enter. “On behalf of the Crown, I would like to thank you for your services in protecting Princess Haydith from the Emerald Claw. The fact that you captured two members of the Claw was even more creditable. Naturally, we wish to know as much as we can about the attack and the events during the trip. I’ve already spoken to Maddox, but I would like to hear your version of events too, especially since some of you fought the leaders of the attack without anyone else to see it. Please tell me everything that you can.”
The Angels proceed to expand on the details of the attack, as well as on some of the preceding events, such as the elementals in the hold, the shadow attack, and the vampire assassins. Moranna listens and makes a few notes, asking a couple of questions here and there. When they are done, she nods. “Thank you. Something I’d also like to know about is the situation with Ambassador Theda Bara and her murder of Gustavus Thul.” Her gaze fixes itself on Gareth. “I believe you magically scanned her mind after taking her prisoner. What did you learn?”
A little surprised at the sudden change of tack, Gareth says, “Very little. There was something, some secret, she was very concerned about and feared Gustavus was about to reveal, which is why she killed him. All I know is that she seemed terrified at the prospect of it coming out. She begged us to let King Kaius question and try her, and Haydith told us to, so I stopped probing after that.”
“And that is all you learned. Are you certain?”
Though a little nettled at her tone, Gareth says politely, “Yes. I have told you all I know.”
Moranna makes a small note again. “Thank you. Lastly, please hand over whatever you recovered from the body of Arkhandus and from any of the slain members of the Emerald Claw.”
“We found nothing!” Luna responds quickly. You’re NOT getting our loot!
Moranna turns to fix the druid with a cold stare, but Luna simply stares back. After a pause of a couple of seconds, the Regent says, “Why would you lie about that?”
Gareth sighs and begins, “What my compa…,” but Luna angrily cuts him off. “Listen, lady! We just risked our lives saving your princess. A couple of us really got the crap beat out of them and almost died. And we’re not being paid for this job, which is something I did not know when we accepted it,” she turns to bestow a glare at the others, before turning back to Moranna, “So I’m just not that keen on giving up whatever few trinkets we collected. See?” She pauses, glances at Gareth, and uses the phrase he used with such telling effect with Ythana Morr. “With regret, of course.”
There is pin-drop silence for a couple of seconds and then Moranna leans forward and speaks, her tone calm but clipped, “You must be harboring a misconception. We are not taking your … trinkets. We simply wished to examine them and see what information, if any, we can gain about the attackers.”
Luna snorts. “Oh, please! Whatever there was to learn from them we’ve already got. We’ve got a fricking super-genius,” she gestures at Nameless and then, as he sits silently, turns to snap, “Well, tell her! You’re always telling us how awesome your brain is!”
Nameless looks at Moranna and shrugs. “Please forgive my comrade. She’s strongly attracted to shiny objects and reacts poorly to any sort of demands, especially if they involve giving up any such objects.”
“Nevertheless,” says Moranna, her voice if possible even more clipped, “We would like to examine them. As I said, they shall be returned to you afterwards.”
Six silently removes the magical adamantine gauntlet, formerly worn by Arkhandus, from his right hand and places it on the table. Luna gives him a glare and then raises her hands above her head. “Fine, fine – take them! But I’ll be counting them!”
“I’m sure you will,” says Moranna dryly. A few minutes later, the Angels exit the room, leaving her sitting beside a small pile of equipment.
* * * * *
A little over an hour after they return to their room, though it seems a little longer with Luna’s grousing, the Angels are asked to head to the throne room. Before they leave, Luna says, “Listen – I’m sure you idiots will complain if I say anything much there, so can you do that telepathy thing you did once, Nameless?”
“Yes, I can,” says Nameless. “Luckily, I prepared one today. Good idea.” He casts the spell and then they leave. A squad of White Lions escort them through a labyrinth of twisting corridors, until they reach a set of stairs where two members of the Conqueror’s Host stand on guard.
Proceeding up the stairs and through a curtain at the end, they emerge into what seems a small audience chamber. The Angels look around in puzzlement for a moment, finding themselves midway up a hall that ends at a blank wall, but then a gesture from the guard captain makes them turn, to see that they had actually emerged midway up the chamber, from underneath the throne of King Kaius, with him above and behind them. It is clearly a special architectural feature designed to confuse visitors and put them off their guard.
The Angels are quickly ushered to their places amidst the small gathering. Now that they can see all of it, they realize that the audience chamber is larger than they first thought, but still smaller than they would have expected after seeing Aurala’s grandiose chamber at Fairhaven, and significantly more austere. Maps of Khorvaire cover the walls, but there is almost no other decoration. In keeping with the rest of the chamber, King Kaius sits on a relatively unmarked iron throne, decorated only with the arms of Karrnath. The king is a tall clean-shaven man with a head of short, iron-gray hair, his sharply featured face even darker than the traditional Karrnathi complexion. A little incongruously, a board for the game of conqueror, a Karrnathi favorite, sits at Kaius’ right hand, the pieces on its black-and-white squares evidently in the middle of a game.
Haydith sits near her brother in a smaller, wooden chair, and Regent Moranna stands near him. Once the Angels have taken their positions, she turns to the King and he arises, his movements calm and economical, but implying an underlying strength and athleticism that belies his age. Kaius’ voice too is deliberate and methodical, but with resonant power held firmly in check, as he says, “People of Karrnath and visitors from afar, I am pleased that you are here with me to welcome back my dear sister, Haydith, after her long sojourn abroad.” He turns to Haydith and extends a hand, which she accepts, making a short bow and smiling prettily, causing the crowd to applaud and cheer in unison, as if on cue. The Angels too applaud politely.
Kaius then seats himself and Moranna steps forward, asking the Angels to step forward. As they move forward to stand before the thrones, the others have to restrain themselves from grinning or groaning as Luna’s voice says in their heads, “This is when we get a reward, right? Anyone see any presents? Anyone?” More surprising is the deep bow that Luna makes to the King, which the others swiftly do too, as indicated by a small gesture from Moranna.
As they straighten, the Regent says, “The throne of Karrnath commends the Guardian Angels of Sharn, who have lived up to their name in protecting Princess Haydith from multiple attempts on her life by the Emerald Claw.” Haydith smiles happily from her throne at the Angels, which causes Luna to somewhat spoil the solemnity of the proceedings by grinning back and waving.
Completely ignoring the gesture, Moranna continues, “During their voyage to Karrnath, the Guardian Angels also apprehended the diplomat Theda Bara, who murdered her compatriot Gustavus Thul over a matter of petty jealousy. King Kaius has considered her case and, in view of the heinous crime but considering her previous service to Karrnath, has sentenced her to a merciful and swift execution, which shall be carried out immediately.”
“Damn! That’s what passes for merciful here? What happened to twenty years hard labor and things like that?” Korm transmits to the others, causing Six to respond, “Considering where we are, it’s probably execution first and then twenty years hard labor.” Even Gareth can’t help chuckling at that.
Meanwhile, Moranna falls silent and returns to her original position. Kaius now speaks, leaning slightly sideways and considering the Angels through cold gray eyes, his tone again calm and deliberate. “As Moranna said, I thank you for protecting my sister. And now, I wonder, how might Karrnath reward you?”
“Ooh, ooh – ask him for magic stuff!” Luna’s voice shouts in the others’ heads. “Especially magical jewelry! And an airship? Can he give us an airship?” Gareth sighs inwardly and transmits back. “That’s not how this works. Don’t worry – we’ll be rewarded.” Then he bows again, before saying, “Seeing the princess delivered safely here is all the recompense we need, sire, though we are gratified at your thanks.”
“NOOOOO!!! Don’t say that!!!”
Kaius says nothing in reply for a moment, but there’s a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. Then he says, “Even so, you have earned my thanks, and I shall have to think on a suitable reward. But, for now, come forward…” He rises and Moranna steps to his side, a flat casket appearing in her hands from somewhere, which she opens.
“What’s in the box? Can any of you see? Is it jewelry? I can’t see!”
The Angels are asked to come forward one by one, and Kaius himself takes a medal from the box and pins it on each of them, while Moranna announces that the King is bestowing the Iron Cross of the King’s Knights, in recognition of exemplary valor in protection of the throne and the royal family. The decoration is a simple ribbon in red and black, which supports a cross-shaped iron medal, bearing the arms of Karrnath.
“A medal? The son of a bitch gave us a f*cking medal! If that’s all we get, Gareth – I am going to eat you!”
Once the honors have been bestowed, the audience is quickly ended and the Angels are again escorted away by their guards. After a couple of minutes, as they move through the winding corridors, Nameless comments telepathically, “We’re not going back to our rooms.”
He is quickly proved correct, as they group arrives at a room and are ushered in to find Moranna again waiting for them. As is the pile of magic items which she had taken from them. “Here are your items,” she says without preamble. “You are supposed to accompany Princess Haydith on her return to Wroat, which shall occur in a fortnight. In the interim, you are free to go where you wish in Karrnath. What do you plan to do in the interim?”
“I think,” Gareth says, “We will be heading back to Sharn tonight. And we also plan to visit my family. We might also visit the Principalities, since we’ve had some news about us being falsely implicated in a crime there.”
“Yes, I read about that. You plan to return to Sharn? How are you planning to travel?”
Nameless lifts a hand and says simply, “Me.”
“I see. Clearly your abilities live up to your reputation. I presume then you will not need any arrangement to be made for transport to Gareth’s family.”
“No,” says Nameless. “But I’d appreciate it if you could leave the quarters we occupied today vacant. I may have to teleport us in and out and there might be trouble if people are occupying them or furniture is moved around.”
“Very well,” says Moranna. “They shall be left empty and free for your use until your departure with the Princess. Also, in view of your encounters with the Emerald Claw…”
“I knew it! She’s going to give us a job!”
“…, the King and I are curious whether you would be interested in working against them in some way. It might be profitable for you, and the King would certainly be appreciative. And since…”
“Say ‘No!’ Say ‘No!’”
“…you seem to be relatively free and able to travel thousands of miles with ease, it should not take too much time away from whatever else you might want to do.”
“Say ‘NO!’ Say ‘NO!’”
Gareth nods. “We would certainly consider it…,”
“MOTHERF*CKER!”
“…but the precise nature of the assignment would affect whether we could accept it or not. If you would inform us what you had in mind, then I could give you a reply.”
“Thank you,” says Moranna. “I shall see what I can come up with. If you return here after meeting your family, I could discuss it with you. Two days, I presume, will be sufficient.” Gareth nods and Moranna makes a note of it, before rising. As she is walking out, she glances at the fulminating Luna, and says, “Your friend looks ill,” before leaving.
Luna snarls at her and then walks over to slam the door, before rounding on Gareth. “Are you freaking nuts?! What did you get us involved with them for?”
“We’re already involved with them, remember? It’s safe to say that this Emrena wants Nameless dead and probably you too. And when did you ever draw the line at blowing things up? These people are terrorists, they kill innocent people, and they practice particularly foul necromancy. Sounds like perfect targets to me.”
Luna’s arms windmill as she shouts, “They’re part of an organization! I hate getting involved with organizations! You kill one bunch and someone else gets upset and more show up and you keep killing them and it … it just gets complicated. Show me a lich in a crypt and I’ll kick her ass from Sul to Sar! But I don’t want to be trying to destroy a group!”
Gareth shakes his head. “The Emerald Claw was around before you were born and will likely be there after you’re dead, but …”
“That’s my point! Organizations are tough to take out completely!”
Gareth sighs and turns to the others. “What do you think?”
“It seems to me,” Six says thoughtfully, “That this Lhazaar issue is a more immediate one. Let’s get back to Sharn and deal with it first, and then we can consider the Emerald Claw.”
“All right. Nameless, can we leave now?”
“Sure.”
* * * * *
Just over an hour later, Evetius Balich, purportedly the ambassador from the Lhazaar Principalities to Sharn but more accurately the representative of Prince Ryger, is disturbed at his evening meal by a loud knocking on his door. His steward leaves and returns in a few moments, significantly paler than he left. “Master – it’s the Guardian Angels! And they look upset!”
Evetius almost spits out the food in his mouth. “What? Oh…” …Sh*t! I thought they were in Karrnath! After a few seconds of hurried thought, he sends the steward off to let them in, then stops the man, rises and follows quickly behind him.
Outside, the Angels are wondering how long to wait, when the door opens, to reveal a worried-looking man and behind him, a slightly less worried and significantly better dressed gentleman. The latter says, “Greetings. I’m Evetius Balich. How may I help you?”
Gareth holds up a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle. “We need to talk about this article. Can we come in?”
Evetius swallows and then nods, somehow keeping a pleasant smile on his face, and ushers the Angels into the nearby living room. As soon as he’s seated, Gareth says plainly, “We didn’t do it.”
“Ah!” Evetius hesitates, wondering how to say what he needs to without sounding like he doesn’t trust them. The stories about these people’s legendary violence indicate that he needs to be very careful. So, he finally says, “That’s interesting. Please tell me more.”
“We have no reason to attack Prince Ryger’s ships. And we were elsewhere at the time. Flying over Aundair with princess Haydith ir’Wynarn, to be precise.”
“I see. Do you perhaps have any … proof of your innocence? Someone who can vouch for you?”
“How about King Kaius of Karrnath?”
Evetius’ eyes go wide, and before he can respond, Luna puts in, “Don’t forget about the queen in Aundair.”
“Yes. Queen Aurala of Aundair too.”
“Ah!” That changes things! Evetius steeples his fingers in thought and then says slowly, “Those are certainly … impressive references. Did the … ahem, monarchs, actually see you at the time of the attack?”
“No, but princess Haydith did. As well as just about the entire complement of the airship Serenity, since we were on board throughout the day that the attack supposedly happened.”
“Supposedly? Oh, the attack definitely occurred,” Evetius says, and then hastens to add, “But this information certainly changes things. I presume you’d like me to send it on to Regalport as soon as possible?”
“Yes. We’ll be taking care of getting our name cleared in the Chronicle.”
“That’s good. I’ll have a Sivis message sent off tonight itself, but it’ll take some time for it to get through, you understand. I’m glad you came to me with this. Prince Ryger, as you can imagine, is furious and he’ll be glad to know about this so that he can go after the actual culprits. Do you have any idea why you were the people impersonated?”
The Angels shakes their heads. Evetius quickly continues, “Since we are so far from the Principalities, would you be willing to speak to Prince Ryger about this? After my message gets through and he knows the reality of the situation, of course.”
“Certainly,” says Gareth. Luna shoots him a look and then shrugs and says, “Okay, but definitely after he finds out. Otherwise he might try attacking us and I doubt your fleet’s big enough to afford losing that many ships!”
Evetius simply smiles, making a mental note to add a line in the message to his master about the fact that at least a couple of the Angels are of dubious mental stability.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, the Angels are back in the Gray House, with Fett and Flim Turen. Their changeling assistant had departed to the local Chronicle office to fetch the gnome correspondent while they were speaking to Evetius. Now, Flim sits at a desk making copious notes about not only their innocence regarding the attack in Regalport but also everything that has happened on their voyage.
“So how soon can you have that in the paper?”
Flim considers and says, “We probably won’t have space for all the details of your voyage, but as for the Principalities thing, I should be able to get it in the next one, coming out in two days. You guys definitely help sell papers. Of course, we’ll mention the voyage and the run-in with the Emerald Claw in passing.”
“Speaking of that,” Gareth says meditatively, “Could you put a message to the lich in the paper?”
Korm looks over. “A message? What did you have in mind?”
The paladin grins. “I just thought we should try and seriously piss her off. She’s probably already mad enough, but if we really get her upset, she may lose her head and attack us and give us the chance to deal with her once and for all.”
Flim looks curiously at him and says, “Hmm – we don’t normally just put messages in, but I could probably get it in a sidebar, as we use for the advertisements we get. And no, of course you don’t have to pay for it. What did you have in mind?”
“Give us a few moments.” The Angels talk amongst themselves for a few minutes, the discussion interspersed with bursts of laughter, and finally Gareth turns to the gnome. “All right, here goes – Dear Emrena: We’re sorry … oops, I mean really not sorry about killing your stupid boyfriend. Appreciate the magic items. Will you visit us and fill out our survey? And, by the way, red is out. Tacky, tacky, tacky!”
Flim notes it all down and then says what Evetius was thinking. “You guys are insane!”
Luna snorts. “You just got that? Anyway, tell me something – you’re an investigative reporter, right? Can’t you find out who the idiots impersonating us are?”
The gnome looks a little surprised and then laughs. “Well, I’m mostly just a reporter. Not so much on the investigation. And I’m here and the attacks happened a few thousand miles away, remember?”
“Phhfftt! A real reporter wouldn’t let that stop him!”
Flim sighs. “I’ll do what I can. Do any of you have an idea who might have done it?”
Even as the others are shaking their heads, Korm and Nameless both speak up at the same time. “I just remembered….” And then they fall silent simultaneously.
“What? WHAT?!” Luna looks back and forth between them, looks at Flim, and snaps, “Oh, come on! Flim knows about as much about our lives as anyone else in the world. Now come on – what did you two remember?”
Nameless inclines his head, indicating the Gatekeeper should speak, and Korm does so slowly, a slightly worried expression on his face. “I just remembered the last time we saw someone who looked like one of us. Or rather, me. Remember when Mordain left us, just before Nameless brought us back, and we glimpsed someone looking just like me outside in the hallway as the door was closing?”
“Oh … yeah, right! You think it’s a clone of us flying around? Or clones?”
“Now, now,” Nameless corrects. “Remember, I just theorized that Mordain may have cloned us.”
Flim has been looking back and forth, and he finally asks, “Mordain? Who’s Mordain?”
Luna smiles happily. “Mordain the Fleshweaver. We went to him to ask about Name….” She pauses as four people cough sharply, gives them a look, and continues more or less smoothly, “To ask about some stuff and he did some totally brilliant augmentations for us.”
A blank page smoothly appears in front of Flim. “Tell me more.”
“Is this really a good idea?” asks Gareth.
“Hey, Mordain told us not to visit for a while, but he didn’t say to not mention him. And he’s such a nice guy too.” Luna then turns to Flim and proceeds to relate where Mordain stays, who he is, and that he provided the group with all sorts of magical augmentations, though she doesn’t mention the details.
The reporter notes it all down, mentioning that while he probably won’t use any of it for some time, it may make a good future article on their adventures once the Chronicle completes the story of their adventures with the Shard. When Luna is done, he finally takes his leave, wishing the group the best of luck regarding the situation with Prince Ryger, promising again to do what he can with both getting their story out and finding out about the attack.
“All right,” says Gareth, once Flim leaves. “I’m off to Lalia. Don’t wait up for me.” Nameless too departs to speak with Trillia.
* * * * *
The next day, travelers along the House Orien trade road linking Korth to Karrlakton are surprised to see a group of five riders mounted on a collection of stags and steeds with smoky insubstantial hooves. The Angels’ phantom stags and steeds race along at well over twenty miles an hour, leaving everything they pass, whether they be Orien coaches and caravans or riders on the swiftest of Vadalis mounts, in their wake.
It is early evening when the Angels reach Karrlakton, birthplace of kings (both Karrn the Conqueror and Galifar I) and the second greatest city in Karrnath. Even more so than Korth, however, the city has a tinge of darkness and despair hanging over it that is palpable from a distance. The reason is easy to see. Across the Cyre River, whose northern bank Karrlakton’s fortress walls stand on, rises the wall of dead-grey mist, like a burial shroud thousands of miles long hanging over the corpse of what was once the Jewel of Galifar, and is now simply the Mournland. The two druids, who have never seen the Mournland before, gaze at it with morbid curiosity until Gareth turns his stag and rides around to the north of the city and Karrlakton’s bulk hides the remains of Cyre from their sight. As they pass, the paladin points out the gigantic tower that looms over the rest of Karrlakton. “That’s Sentinel Tower – the home of House Deneith. It’s where the central operations of the Defenders Guild and the Sentinel Marshals are.”
Gareth’s home is one among a number of small estates immediately to the north of the city, not far from the Orien trade road leading northeast to the city of Vedykar. It is flanked on one side by an artificial lake, and on the other by a much larger estate which has evidently fallen into serious disrepair. “Family lost everything in the War,” the paladin says succinctly, as they pass the buildings and half-fallen walls overgrown with moss and weeds, before stopping to gaze at the home that he has not been to in nearly a year. He takes a deep breath and says, “Come on!”
The Angels are met at the estate’s gates by an old guard, who peers at Gareth in surprise, and then turns and starts ringing a large bell frantically. As a couple of servants pop out of doors in the main building, he shouts, “Master Gareth is home! Tell the lady!” And then turns to hurriedly open the gates and invite the travelers in.
Well, there goes the surprise! thinks Gareth wryly, before greeting his old servant. By the time he has managed to persuade the aged man that he is fine, more people are emerging from the building, and when the Angels ride up and dismount, a small group awaits them.
At its head is a tall and attractive middle-aged woman with a head of auburn hair that is beginning to gray around the edges, followed a few steps behind by a shorter and much older lady. As Gareth hurries up, the surprised look on the taller woman’s face threatens to crumple into tears, but she masters herself and simply hugs him. The older lady simply stares at him with a stony look on her sharp features, and when he goes to hug her, she swiftly cuffs him on the head. “You haven’t written in nearly a month!” she snaps.
“Yup,” says Luna. “That’s family all right!”
Gareth simply grins and bends to hug the older lady too, before gesturing his friends closer. “May I introduce you to the ladies of the house? This is my mother Elaine and my grandmother, Leanna.” As he proceeds to identify the Angels, his mother quickly welcomes them in, while the lady Leanna studies them with a critical expression.
As they walk in, Elaine says to her son, but making sure to include the others, “This is such a surprise! We read in the Korranberg Chronicle that you were escorting Princess Haydith so I was hoping to hear from you when you got to Karrnath, but not that you’d arrive here unannounced.”
“Which is why,” says Gareth with a happy grin. “I wanted to surprise you two.”
“You’ve lost weight,” comments his grandmother succinctly, striding along beside them with a posture that somehow reminds the Angels of Archierophant Ythana Morr.
“That reminds me,” interrupts Korm. He stops and reaches into his magical haversack to produce a large package. “I brought you a cake.”
“Luckily,” says Luna cheerily, “I brought neutralize poison.”
With no sign of hearing the comment, Elaine says, “Oh, thank you! That reminds me – you’re just in time for supper. Let me just go check on things.” She walks off, staggering slightly under the weight of Korm’s cake.
Leanna leads the group into a comfortable sitting room-cum-verandah that opens onto the gardens of the estate and orders some drinks for them. Then she seats herself and promptly begins to interrogate Gareth about his recent activities, adding a few corroborating questions for the others. While it’s likely from the old lady’s sparkling eyes that she is happy to see her grandson back, nothing else about her expression or demeanor reveals it. Elaine joins them a few minutes later, her eyes looking suspiciously as if she had stopped to cry along the way. Or maybe, as Luna not-so-quietly comments, she just got close to the cake.
Besides picking on Korm, Luna also quickly ingratiates herself with both mother and grandmother by proceeding to tell them all about what Gareth has been up to, dwelling with especially loving detail on his relationship with Lalia but not failing to mention that she thinks he’s been leading on princess Haydith too. The others quickly join in, causing Gareth to go from indignant self-defense to embarrassment to taking recourse in the drinks, which naturally leads to his grandmother pointing out that he drinks a lot more than when he left home.
Supper is soon served and the conversations continue, with the Angels finding themselves enjoying a truly domestic scene as a group for the first time that they can remember. Elaine is a perfect hostess, and once they manage to penetrate Leanna’s hard-boiled exterior, they find that the old lady is quite pleasant company, with a huge fund of interesting stories and, surprisingly, a wry sense of humor.
After the meal, Six suggests that the Angels could stay in Karrlakton to save Gareth’s family the bother, but is immediately overruled by Elaine, who points out that there are many rooms that see no use now that it’s just her mother-in-law and her at home, and there’s no way she’s letting any of Gareth’s friends stay elsewhere. When she excuses herself to take care of the accommodations, Luna invites herself along, claiming that she needs to talk to Elaine woman-to-woman about décor, since she is forced to live in a house with four men who have no idea what the word means.
By the time they finally turn in for the night, the Angels are informed that they will be staying with Gareth’s family as long as they are in Karrnath. And given glasses of hot milk, since they are evidently all growing adventurers and need to take proper care of themselves.
* * * * *
Over breakfast the next day, the Angels check the Chronicle and find the article from Flim, titled “Angels Framed in Regalport Attack,” which announces exactly what they had wanted him to mention. It adds only that the KC has not yet been able to contact Prince Ryger for a response, but does have a statement from Evetius Balich saying that he has spoken to the Guardian Angels, is “reasonably convinced of their innocence,” and has sent a message to the Prince with that information.
“So, should we go there now and try talking to this Ryger fellow?” asks Luna.
“Not yet, I think,” replies Gareth. “Give him a little time to get all the information, and frankly, I’d rather wait for an invitation. Anyway, here’s a bit more.” He points out a sidebar near the article containing the Angels’ message to the lich, which evokes great merriment in its creators. Unsurprisingly, neither Elaine nor Leanna are equally amused, but are slightly mollified y Gareth’s promise to be careful, and more so by the others’ promise to look after him.
After breakfast, the Angels excuse themselves for a bit, Nameless teleporting them back to Korth for the meeting with Moranna. As before, the Regent gets straight to the point. “As some of you may know, certain members of the Emerald Claw are worshippers of the Blood of Vol. We have located a particular Emerald Claw cell that exists under the guise of being a temple of the Blood. I would like you to eliminate it.” She glances around the group silently and then adds, “In view of what I’ve heard and read of your abilities, am I correct in assuming that subterfuge is not your forte?”
“Absolutely correct!”
“Understood. In that case, simply entering the temple and destroying the cultists within will do.”
“Where is this temple located?” asks Nameless. “I presume you can provide enough detailed information for me to be able to transport us safely there.”
“Yes. I have had a spy infiltrate the organization, who has been able to provide the description of the single room in the temple that one can use teleportation magic in and out of, though it’s very rarely utilized. The rest of the temple is warded against such magic. And the temple is located in Atur.”
“The City of Night,” Gareth explains, seeing the blank expressions on some of his friends’ faces. “Northeast of here. It’s the location of the Crimson Monastery, the largest temple of the Blood of Vol in the world. That’s the primary faith in the city.”
“Yes,” says Moranna, her tone expressing mild distaste. “This particular temple is comparatively much smaller, on the outskirts of Atur, attracting those living too far from the Monastery. It is, however, in enough of a populated area that sending in a number of guardsmen to wipe out the place would draw a lot of unwelcome attention – not to mention require substantial resources. For people of your skills, it should be substantially easier. If you enter it during the daytime, especially early in the day, it should be relatively devoid of worshippers, with only the cultists present.”
“Is there any more information you can give us?” asks Nameless.
“Yes. The temple is actually used as a laboratory for necromantic experiments by the Emerald Claw, which means you can expect to run into multiple forms of intelligent undead. While slaying any and all cultists, and especially any undead, that you encounter should be a goal, your primary aims should be twofold. Slay the high priestess of the temple, a woman called Theda. Yes, the same as the ambassador. And secondly, find the main laboratory and destroy anything you find there. My spy – who will be well away when you arrive, so you need not fear slaying him by mistake – also mentioned that the temple is under a permanent desecrate effect.”
“So undead there will be somewhat stronger,” says Nameless.
“Yes. Is that – or anything else – a problem?”
“Not for me,” says Gareth, looking around for his companions’ opinions. Luna, who has been slouched silently in her chair, speaks up, “So what are we getting for this?”
Moranna eyes the druid for a long moment and then says, “Presumably you should be able to recover a significant amount of wealth from the temple, not just in coin but in magical equipment.”
“Yeah, yeah – but we’re still doing you a favor, right? You should be paying us!”
Moranna’s tone grows significantly colder, but she nods. “Very well. I shall see what I can add to the reward you will already be getting from the King.”
“Excellent. In that case – I’m in.”
The Regent turns to Nameless and hands him a sheet of paper. “That should be an accurate enough description for you. I suggest making your attack early tomorrow morning. Make it fast and once you have dispatched the high priestess and destroyed the laboratory, leave immediately.”
“Understood.”
Moranna rises and says, “If you do this successfully, you shall find the throne of Karrnath even more well-disposed towards you than it already is.” Then she turns and leaves.
“All right,” says Luna, sitting up and cracking her knuckles. “Let’s go, Nameless. Chop chop. I’ve got something important to do.” She grins broadly in anticipation.
“What’s the hurry?” asks the alienist. “You’re looking too happy. Who are you planning to kill?”
The shifter snorts dismissively. “Kill-schmill! I’m going shopping with Elaine. She said she’s got this wonderful curtain-maker I need to meet. Don’t worry – I’m getting some for all your rooms. And I’ll make sure yours are purple.”
Nameless objects, “I don’t think purple will match the rakshasa rugs,” even as he begins the motions of his spell.
“Arguments about décor!” Korm says with a sad head-shake to Six. “I knew I’d regret this trip!”
The Angels proceed to expand on the details of the attack, as well as on some of the preceding events, such as the elementals in the hold, the shadow attack, and the vampire assassins. Moranna listens and makes a few notes, asking a couple of questions here and there. When they are done, she nods. “Thank you. Something I’d also like to know about is the situation with Ambassador Theda Bara and her murder of Gustavus Thul.” Her gaze fixes itself on Gareth. “I believe you magically scanned her mind after taking her prisoner. What did you learn?”
A little surprised at the sudden change of tack, Gareth says, “Very little. There was something, some secret, she was very concerned about and feared Gustavus was about to reveal, which is why she killed him. All I know is that she seemed terrified at the prospect of it coming out. She begged us to let King Kaius question and try her, and Haydith told us to, so I stopped probing after that.”
“And that is all you learned. Are you certain?”
Though a little nettled at her tone, Gareth says politely, “Yes. I have told you all I know.”
Moranna makes a small note again. “Thank you. Lastly, please hand over whatever you recovered from the body of Arkhandus and from any of the slain members of the Emerald Claw.”
“We found nothing!” Luna responds quickly. You’re NOT getting our loot!
Moranna turns to fix the druid with a cold stare, but Luna simply stares back. After a pause of a couple of seconds, the Regent says, “Why would you lie about that?”
Gareth sighs and begins, “What my compa…,” but Luna angrily cuts him off. “Listen, lady! We just risked our lives saving your princess. A couple of us really got the crap beat out of them and almost died. And we’re not being paid for this job, which is something I did not know when we accepted it,” she turns to bestow a glare at the others, before turning back to Moranna, “So I’m just not that keen on giving up whatever few trinkets we collected. See?” She pauses, glances at Gareth, and uses the phrase he used with such telling effect with Ythana Morr. “With regret, of course.”
There is pin-drop silence for a couple of seconds and then Moranna leans forward and speaks, her tone calm but clipped, “You must be harboring a misconception. We are not taking your … trinkets. We simply wished to examine them and see what information, if any, we can gain about the attackers.”
Luna snorts. “Oh, please! Whatever there was to learn from them we’ve already got. We’ve got a fricking super-genius,” she gestures at Nameless and then, as he sits silently, turns to snap, “Well, tell her! You’re always telling us how awesome your brain is!”
Nameless looks at Moranna and shrugs. “Please forgive my comrade. She’s strongly attracted to shiny objects and reacts poorly to any sort of demands, especially if they involve giving up any such objects.”
“Nevertheless,” says Moranna, her voice if possible even more clipped, “We would like to examine them. As I said, they shall be returned to you afterwards.”
Six silently removes the magical adamantine gauntlet, formerly worn by Arkhandus, from his right hand and places it on the table. Luna gives him a glare and then raises her hands above her head. “Fine, fine – take them! But I’ll be counting them!”
“I’m sure you will,” says Moranna dryly. A few minutes later, the Angels exit the room, leaving her sitting beside a small pile of equipment.
* * * * *
A little over an hour after they return to their room, though it seems a little longer with Luna’s grousing, the Angels are asked to head to the throne room. Before they leave, Luna says, “Listen – I’m sure you idiots will complain if I say anything much there, so can you do that telepathy thing you did once, Nameless?”
“Yes, I can,” says Nameless. “Luckily, I prepared one today. Good idea.” He casts the spell and then they leave. A squad of White Lions escort them through a labyrinth of twisting corridors, until they reach a set of stairs where two members of the Conqueror’s Host stand on guard.
Proceeding up the stairs and through a curtain at the end, they emerge into what seems a small audience chamber. The Angels look around in puzzlement for a moment, finding themselves midway up a hall that ends at a blank wall, but then a gesture from the guard captain makes them turn, to see that they had actually emerged midway up the chamber, from underneath the throne of King Kaius, with him above and behind them. It is clearly a special architectural feature designed to confuse visitors and put them off their guard.
The Angels are quickly ushered to their places amidst the small gathering. Now that they can see all of it, they realize that the audience chamber is larger than they first thought, but still smaller than they would have expected after seeing Aurala’s grandiose chamber at Fairhaven, and significantly more austere. Maps of Khorvaire cover the walls, but there is almost no other decoration. In keeping with the rest of the chamber, King Kaius sits on a relatively unmarked iron throne, decorated only with the arms of Karrnath. The king is a tall clean-shaven man with a head of short, iron-gray hair, his sharply featured face even darker than the traditional Karrnathi complexion. A little incongruously, a board for the game of conqueror, a Karrnathi favorite, sits at Kaius’ right hand, the pieces on its black-and-white squares evidently in the middle of a game.
Haydith sits near her brother in a smaller, wooden chair, and Regent Moranna stands near him. Once the Angels have taken their positions, she turns to the King and he arises, his movements calm and economical, but implying an underlying strength and athleticism that belies his age. Kaius’ voice too is deliberate and methodical, but with resonant power held firmly in check, as he says, “People of Karrnath and visitors from afar, I am pleased that you are here with me to welcome back my dear sister, Haydith, after her long sojourn abroad.” He turns to Haydith and extends a hand, which she accepts, making a short bow and smiling prettily, causing the crowd to applaud and cheer in unison, as if on cue. The Angels too applaud politely.
Kaius then seats himself and Moranna steps forward, asking the Angels to step forward. As they move forward to stand before the thrones, the others have to restrain themselves from grinning or groaning as Luna’s voice says in their heads, “This is when we get a reward, right? Anyone see any presents? Anyone?” More surprising is the deep bow that Luna makes to the King, which the others swiftly do too, as indicated by a small gesture from Moranna.
As they straighten, the Regent says, “The throne of Karrnath commends the Guardian Angels of Sharn, who have lived up to their name in protecting Princess Haydith from multiple attempts on her life by the Emerald Claw.” Haydith smiles happily from her throne at the Angels, which causes Luna to somewhat spoil the solemnity of the proceedings by grinning back and waving.
Completely ignoring the gesture, Moranna continues, “During their voyage to Karrnath, the Guardian Angels also apprehended the diplomat Theda Bara, who murdered her compatriot Gustavus Thul over a matter of petty jealousy. King Kaius has considered her case and, in view of the heinous crime but considering her previous service to Karrnath, has sentenced her to a merciful and swift execution, which shall be carried out immediately.”
“Damn! That’s what passes for merciful here? What happened to twenty years hard labor and things like that?” Korm transmits to the others, causing Six to respond, “Considering where we are, it’s probably execution first and then twenty years hard labor.” Even Gareth can’t help chuckling at that.
Meanwhile, Moranna falls silent and returns to her original position. Kaius now speaks, leaning slightly sideways and considering the Angels through cold gray eyes, his tone again calm and deliberate. “As Moranna said, I thank you for protecting my sister. And now, I wonder, how might Karrnath reward you?”
“Ooh, ooh – ask him for magic stuff!” Luna’s voice shouts in the others’ heads. “Especially magical jewelry! And an airship? Can he give us an airship?” Gareth sighs inwardly and transmits back. “That’s not how this works. Don’t worry – we’ll be rewarded.” Then he bows again, before saying, “Seeing the princess delivered safely here is all the recompense we need, sire, though we are gratified at your thanks.”
“NOOOOO!!! Don’t say that!!!”
Kaius says nothing in reply for a moment, but there’s a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. Then he says, “Even so, you have earned my thanks, and I shall have to think on a suitable reward. But, for now, come forward…” He rises and Moranna steps to his side, a flat casket appearing in her hands from somewhere, which she opens.
“What’s in the box? Can any of you see? Is it jewelry? I can’t see!”
The Angels are asked to come forward one by one, and Kaius himself takes a medal from the box and pins it on each of them, while Moranna announces that the King is bestowing the Iron Cross of the King’s Knights, in recognition of exemplary valor in protection of the throne and the royal family. The decoration is a simple ribbon in red and black, which supports a cross-shaped iron medal, bearing the arms of Karrnath.
“A medal? The son of a bitch gave us a f*cking medal! If that’s all we get, Gareth – I am going to eat you!”
Once the honors have been bestowed, the audience is quickly ended and the Angels are again escorted away by their guards. After a couple of minutes, as they move through the winding corridors, Nameless comments telepathically, “We’re not going back to our rooms.”
He is quickly proved correct, as they group arrives at a room and are ushered in to find Moranna again waiting for them. As is the pile of magic items which she had taken from them. “Here are your items,” she says without preamble. “You are supposed to accompany Princess Haydith on her return to Wroat, which shall occur in a fortnight. In the interim, you are free to go where you wish in Karrnath. What do you plan to do in the interim?”
“I think,” Gareth says, “We will be heading back to Sharn tonight. And we also plan to visit my family. We might also visit the Principalities, since we’ve had some news about us being falsely implicated in a crime there.”
“Yes, I read about that. You plan to return to Sharn? How are you planning to travel?”
Nameless lifts a hand and says simply, “Me.”
“I see. Clearly your abilities live up to your reputation. I presume then you will not need any arrangement to be made for transport to Gareth’s family.”
“No,” says Nameless. “But I’d appreciate it if you could leave the quarters we occupied today vacant. I may have to teleport us in and out and there might be trouble if people are occupying them or furniture is moved around.”
“Very well,” says Moranna. “They shall be left empty and free for your use until your departure with the Princess. Also, in view of your encounters with the Emerald Claw…”
“I knew it! She’s going to give us a job!”
“…, the King and I are curious whether you would be interested in working against them in some way. It might be profitable for you, and the King would certainly be appreciative. And since…”
“Say ‘No!’ Say ‘No!’”
“…you seem to be relatively free and able to travel thousands of miles with ease, it should not take too much time away from whatever else you might want to do.”
“Say ‘NO!’ Say ‘NO!’”
Gareth nods. “We would certainly consider it…,”
“MOTHERF*CKER!”
“…but the precise nature of the assignment would affect whether we could accept it or not. If you would inform us what you had in mind, then I could give you a reply.”
“Thank you,” says Moranna. “I shall see what I can come up with. If you return here after meeting your family, I could discuss it with you. Two days, I presume, will be sufficient.” Gareth nods and Moranna makes a note of it, before rising. As she is walking out, she glances at the fulminating Luna, and says, “Your friend looks ill,” before leaving.
Luna snarls at her and then walks over to slam the door, before rounding on Gareth. “Are you freaking nuts?! What did you get us involved with them for?”
“We’re already involved with them, remember? It’s safe to say that this Emrena wants Nameless dead and probably you too. And when did you ever draw the line at blowing things up? These people are terrorists, they kill innocent people, and they practice particularly foul necromancy. Sounds like perfect targets to me.”
Luna’s arms windmill as she shouts, “They’re part of an organization! I hate getting involved with organizations! You kill one bunch and someone else gets upset and more show up and you keep killing them and it … it just gets complicated. Show me a lich in a crypt and I’ll kick her ass from Sul to Sar! But I don’t want to be trying to destroy a group!”
Gareth shakes his head. “The Emerald Claw was around before you were born and will likely be there after you’re dead, but …”
“That’s my point! Organizations are tough to take out completely!”
Gareth sighs and turns to the others. “What do you think?”
“It seems to me,” Six says thoughtfully, “That this Lhazaar issue is a more immediate one. Let’s get back to Sharn and deal with it first, and then we can consider the Emerald Claw.”
“All right. Nameless, can we leave now?”
“Sure.”
* * * * *
Just over an hour later, Evetius Balich, purportedly the ambassador from the Lhazaar Principalities to Sharn but more accurately the representative of Prince Ryger, is disturbed at his evening meal by a loud knocking on his door. His steward leaves and returns in a few moments, significantly paler than he left. “Master – it’s the Guardian Angels! And they look upset!”
Evetius almost spits out the food in his mouth. “What? Oh…” …Sh*t! I thought they were in Karrnath! After a few seconds of hurried thought, he sends the steward off to let them in, then stops the man, rises and follows quickly behind him.
Outside, the Angels are wondering how long to wait, when the door opens, to reveal a worried-looking man and behind him, a slightly less worried and significantly better dressed gentleman. The latter says, “Greetings. I’m Evetius Balich. How may I help you?”
Gareth holds up a copy of the Korranberg Chronicle. “We need to talk about this article. Can we come in?”
Evetius swallows and then nods, somehow keeping a pleasant smile on his face, and ushers the Angels into the nearby living room. As soon as he’s seated, Gareth says plainly, “We didn’t do it.”
“Ah!” Evetius hesitates, wondering how to say what he needs to without sounding like he doesn’t trust them. The stories about these people’s legendary violence indicate that he needs to be very careful. So, he finally says, “That’s interesting. Please tell me more.”
“We have no reason to attack Prince Ryger’s ships. And we were elsewhere at the time. Flying over Aundair with princess Haydith ir’Wynarn, to be precise.”
“I see. Do you perhaps have any … proof of your innocence? Someone who can vouch for you?”
“How about King Kaius of Karrnath?”
Evetius’ eyes go wide, and before he can respond, Luna puts in, “Don’t forget about the queen in Aundair.”
“Yes. Queen Aurala of Aundair too.”
“Ah!” That changes things! Evetius steeples his fingers in thought and then says slowly, “Those are certainly … impressive references. Did the … ahem, monarchs, actually see you at the time of the attack?”
“No, but princess Haydith did. As well as just about the entire complement of the airship Serenity, since we were on board throughout the day that the attack supposedly happened.”
“Supposedly? Oh, the attack definitely occurred,” Evetius says, and then hastens to add, “But this information certainly changes things. I presume you’d like me to send it on to Regalport as soon as possible?”
“Yes. We’ll be taking care of getting our name cleared in the Chronicle.”
“That’s good. I’ll have a Sivis message sent off tonight itself, but it’ll take some time for it to get through, you understand. I’m glad you came to me with this. Prince Ryger, as you can imagine, is furious and he’ll be glad to know about this so that he can go after the actual culprits. Do you have any idea why you were the people impersonated?”
The Angels shakes their heads. Evetius quickly continues, “Since we are so far from the Principalities, would you be willing to speak to Prince Ryger about this? After my message gets through and he knows the reality of the situation, of course.”
“Certainly,” says Gareth. Luna shoots him a look and then shrugs and says, “Okay, but definitely after he finds out. Otherwise he might try attacking us and I doubt your fleet’s big enough to afford losing that many ships!”
Evetius simply smiles, making a mental note to add a line in the message to his master about the fact that at least a couple of the Angels are of dubious mental stability.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, the Angels are back in the Gray House, with Fett and Flim Turen. Their changeling assistant had departed to the local Chronicle office to fetch the gnome correspondent while they were speaking to Evetius. Now, Flim sits at a desk making copious notes about not only their innocence regarding the attack in Regalport but also everything that has happened on their voyage.
“So how soon can you have that in the paper?”
Flim considers and says, “We probably won’t have space for all the details of your voyage, but as for the Principalities thing, I should be able to get it in the next one, coming out in two days. You guys definitely help sell papers. Of course, we’ll mention the voyage and the run-in with the Emerald Claw in passing.”
“Speaking of that,” Gareth says meditatively, “Could you put a message to the lich in the paper?”
Korm looks over. “A message? What did you have in mind?”
The paladin grins. “I just thought we should try and seriously piss her off. She’s probably already mad enough, but if we really get her upset, she may lose her head and attack us and give us the chance to deal with her once and for all.”
Flim looks curiously at him and says, “Hmm – we don’t normally just put messages in, but I could probably get it in a sidebar, as we use for the advertisements we get. And no, of course you don’t have to pay for it. What did you have in mind?”
“Give us a few moments.” The Angels talk amongst themselves for a few minutes, the discussion interspersed with bursts of laughter, and finally Gareth turns to the gnome. “All right, here goes – Dear Emrena: We’re sorry … oops, I mean really not sorry about killing your stupid boyfriend. Appreciate the magic items. Will you visit us and fill out our survey? And, by the way, red is out. Tacky, tacky, tacky!”
Flim notes it all down and then says what Evetius was thinking. “You guys are insane!”
Luna snorts. “You just got that? Anyway, tell me something – you’re an investigative reporter, right? Can’t you find out who the idiots impersonating us are?”
The gnome looks a little surprised and then laughs. “Well, I’m mostly just a reporter. Not so much on the investigation. And I’m here and the attacks happened a few thousand miles away, remember?”
“Phhfftt! A real reporter wouldn’t let that stop him!”
Flim sighs. “I’ll do what I can. Do any of you have an idea who might have done it?”
Even as the others are shaking their heads, Korm and Nameless both speak up at the same time. “I just remembered….” And then they fall silent simultaneously.
“What? WHAT?!” Luna looks back and forth between them, looks at Flim, and snaps, “Oh, come on! Flim knows about as much about our lives as anyone else in the world. Now come on – what did you two remember?”
Nameless inclines his head, indicating the Gatekeeper should speak, and Korm does so slowly, a slightly worried expression on his face. “I just remembered the last time we saw someone who looked like one of us. Or rather, me. Remember when Mordain left us, just before Nameless brought us back, and we glimpsed someone looking just like me outside in the hallway as the door was closing?”
“Oh … yeah, right! You think it’s a clone of us flying around? Or clones?”
“Now, now,” Nameless corrects. “Remember, I just theorized that Mordain may have cloned us.”
Flim has been looking back and forth, and he finally asks, “Mordain? Who’s Mordain?”
Luna smiles happily. “Mordain the Fleshweaver. We went to him to ask about Name….” She pauses as four people cough sharply, gives them a look, and continues more or less smoothly, “To ask about some stuff and he did some totally brilliant augmentations for us.”
A blank page smoothly appears in front of Flim. “Tell me more.”
“Is this really a good idea?” asks Gareth.
“Hey, Mordain told us not to visit for a while, but he didn’t say to not mention him. And he’s such a nice guy too.” Luna then turns to Flim and proceeds to relate where Mordain stays, who he is, and that he provided the group with all sorts of magical augmentations, though she doesn’t mention the details.
The reporter notes it all down, mentioning that while he probably won’t use any of it for some time, it may make a good future article on their adventures once the Chronicle completes the story of their adventures with the Shard. When Luna is done, he finally takes his leave, wishing the group the best of luck regarding the situation with Prince Ryger, promising again to do what he can with both getting their story out and finding out about the attack.
“All right,” says Gareth, once Flim leaves. “I’m off to Lalia. Don’t wait up for me.” Nameless too departs to speak with Trillia.
* * * * *
The next day, travelers along the House Orien trade road linking Korth to Karrlakton are surprised to see a group of five riders mounted on a collection of stags and steeds with smoky insubstantial hooves. The Angels’ phantom stags and steeds race along at well over twenty miles an hour, leaving everything they pass, whether they be Orien coaches and caravans or riders on the swiftest of Vadalis mounts, in their wake.
It is early evening when the Angels reach Karrlakton, birthplace of kings (both Karrn the Conqueror and Galifar I) and the second greatest city in Karrnath. Even more so than Korth, however, the city has a tinge of darkness and despair hanging over it that is palpable from a distance. The reason is easy to see. Across the Cyre River, whose northern bank Karrlakton’s fortress walls stand on, rises the wall of dead-grey mist, like a burial shroud thousands of miles long hanging over the corpse of what was once the Jewel of Galifar, and is now simply the Mournland. The two druids, who have never seen the Mournland before, gaze at it with morbid curiosity until Gareth turns his stag and rides around to the north of the city and Karrlakton’s bulk hides the remains of Cyre from their sight. As they pass, the paladin points out the gigantic tower that looms over the rest of Karrlakton. “That’s Sentinel Tower – the home of House Deneith. It’s where the central operations of the Defenders Guild and the Sentinel Marshals are.”
Gareth’s home is one among a number of small estates immediately to the north of the city, not far from the Orien trade road leading northeast to the city of Vedykar. It is flanked on one side by an artificial lake, and on the other by a much larger estate which has evidently fallen into serious disrepair. “Family lost everything in the War,” the paladin says succinctly, as they pass the buildings and half-fallen walls overgrown with moss and weeds, before stopping to gaze at the home that he has not been to in nearly a year. He takes a deep breath and says, “Come on!”
The Angels are met at the estate’s gates by an old guard, who peers at Gareth in surprise, and then turns and starts ringing a large bell frantically. As a couple of servants pop out of doors in the main building, he shouts, “Master Gareth is home! Tell the lady!” And then turns to hurriedly open the gates and invite the travelers in.
Well, there goes the surprise! thinks Gareth wryly, before greeting his old servant. By the time he has managed to persuade the aged man that he is fine, more people are emerging from the building, and when the Angels ride up and dismount, a small group awaits them.
At its head is a tall and attractive middle-aged woman with a head of auburn hair that is beginning to gray around the edges, followed a few steps behind by a shorter and much older lady. As Gareth hurries up, the surprised look on the taller woman’s face threatens to crumple into tears, but she masters herself and simply hugs him. The older lady simply stares at him with a stony look on her sharp features, and when he goes to hug her, she swiftly cuffs him on the head. “You haven’t written in nearly a month!” she snaps.
“Yup,” says Luna. “That’s family all right!”
Gareth simply grins and bends to hug the older lady too, before gesturing his friends closer. “May I introduce you to the ladies of the house? This is my mother Elaine and my grandmother, Leanna.” As he proceeds to identify the Angels, his mother quickly welcomes them in, while the lady Leanna studies them with a critical expression.
As they walk in, Elaine says to her son, but making sure to include the others, “This is such a surprise! We read in the Korranberg Chronicle that you were escorting Princess Haydith so I was hoping to hear from you when you got to Karrnath, but not that you’d arrive here unannounced.”
“Which is why,” says Gareth with a happy grin. “I wanted to surprise you two.”
“You’ve lost weight,” comments his grandmother succinctly, striding along beside them with a posture that somehow reminds the Angels of Archierophant Ythana Morr.
“That reminds me,” interrupts Korm. He stops and reaches into his magical haversack to produce a large package. “I brought you a cake.”
“Luckily,” says Luna cheerily, “I brought neutralize poison.”
With no sign of hearing the comment, Elaine says, “Oh, thank you! That reminds me – you’re just in time for supper. Let me just go check on things.” She walks off, staggering slightly under the weight of Korm’s cake.
Leanna leads the group into a comfortable sitting room-cum-verandah that opens onto the gardens of the estate and orders some drinks for them. Then she seats herself and promptly begins to interrogate Gareth about his recent activities, adding a few corroborating questions for the others. While it’s likely from the old lady’s sparkling eyes that she is happy to see her grandson back, nothing else about her expression or demeanor reveals it. Elaine joins them a few minutes later, her eyes looking suspiciously as if she had stopped to cry along the way. Or maybe, as Luna not-so-quietly comments, she just got close to the cake.
Besides picking on Korm, Luna also quickly ingratiates herself with both mother and grandmother by proceeding to tell them all about what Gareth has been up to, dwelling with especially loving detail on his relationship with Lalia but not failing to mention that she thinks he’s been leading on princess Haydith too. The others quickly join in, causing Gareth to go from indignant self-defense to embarrassment to taking recourse in the drinks, which naturally leads to his grandmother pointing out that he drinks a lot more than when he left home.
Supper is soon served and the conversations continue, with the Angels finding themselves enjoying a truly domestic scene as a group for the first time that they can remember. Elaine is a perfect hostess, and once they manage to penetrate Leanna’s hard-boiled exterior, they find that the old lady is quite pleasant company, with a huge fund of interesting stories and, surprisingly, a wry sense of humor.
After the meal, Six suggests that the Angels could stay in Karrlakton to save Gareth’s family the bother, but is immediately overruled by Elaine, who points out that there are many rooms that see no use now that it’s just her mother-in-law and her at home, and there’s no way she’s letting any of Gareth’s friends stay elsewhere. When she excuses herself to take care of the accommodations, Luna invites herself along, claiming that she needs to talk to Elaine woman-to-woman about décor, since she is forced to live in a house with four men who have no idea what the word means.
By the time they finally turn in for the night, the Angels are informed that they will be staying with Gareth’s family as long as they are in Karrnath. And given glasses of hot milk, since they are evidently all growing adventurers and need to take proper care of themselves.
* * * * *
Over breakfast the next day, the Angels check the Chronicle and find the article from Flim, titled “Angels Framed in Regalport Attack,” which announces exactly what they had wanted him to mention. It adds only that the KC has not yet been able to contact Prince Ryger for a response, but does have a statement from Evetius Balich saying that he has spoken to the Guardian Angels, is “reasonably convinced of their innocence,” and has sent a message to the Prince with that information.
“So, should we go there now and try talking to this Ryger fellow?” asks Luna.
“Not yet, I think,” replies Gareth. “Give him a little time to get all the information, and frankly, I’d rather wait for an invitation. Anyway, here’s a bit more.” He points out a sidebar near the article containing the Angels’ message to the lich, which evokes great merriment in its creators. Unsurprisingly, neither Elaine nor Leanna are equally amused, but are slightly mollified y Gareth’s promise to be careful, and more so by the others’ promise to look after him.
After breakfast, the Angels excuse themselves for a bit, Nameless teleporting them back to Korth for the meeting with Moranna. As before, the Regent gets straight to the point. “As some of you may know, certain members of the Emerald Claw are worshippers of the Blood of Vol. We have located a particular Emerald Claw cell that exists under the guise of being a temple of the Blood. I would like you to eliminate it.” She glances around the group silently and then adds, “In view of what I’ve heard and read of your abilities, am I correct in assuming that subterfuge is not your forte?”
“Absolutely correct!”
“Understood. In that case, simply entering the temple and destroying the cultists within will do.”
“Where is this temple located?” asks Nameless. “I presume you can provide enough detailed information for me to be able to transport us safely there.”
“Yes. I have had a spy infiltrate the organization, who has been able to provide the description of the single room in the temple that one can use teleportation magic in and out of, though it’s very rarely utilized. The rest of the temple is warded against such magic. And the temple is located in Atur.”
“The City of Night,” Gareth explains, seeing the blank expressions on some of his friends’ faces. “Northeast of here. It’s the location of the Crimson Monastery, the largest temple of the Blood of Vol in the world. That’s the primary faith in the city.”
“Yes,” says Moranna, her tone expressing mild distaste. “This particular temple is comparatively much smaller, on the outskirts of Atur, attracting those living too far from the Monastery. It is, however, in enough of a populated area that sending in a number of guardsmen to wipe out the place would draw a lot of unwelcome attention – not to mention require substantial resources. For people of your skills, it should be substantially easier. If you enter it during the daytime, especially early in the day, it should be relatively devoid of worshippers, with only the cultists present.”
“Is there any more information you can give us?” asks Nameless.
“Yes. The temple is actually used as a laboratory for necromantic experiments by the Emerald Claw, which means you can expect to run into multiple forms of intelligent undead. While slaying any and all cultists, and especially any undead, that you encounter should be a goal, your primary aims should be twofold. Slay the high priestess of the temple, a woman called Theda. Yes, the same as the ambassador. And secondly, find the main laboratory and destroy anything you find there. My spy – who will be well away when you arrive, so you need not fear slaying him by mistake – also mentioned that the temple is under a permanent desecrate effect.”
“So undead there will be somewhat stronger,” says Nameless.
“Yes. Is that – or anything else – a problem?”
“Not for me,” says Gareth, looking around for his companions’ opinions. Luna, who has been slouched silently in her chair, speaks up, “So what are we getting for this?”
Moranna eyes the druid for a long moment and then says, “Presumably you should be able to recover a significant amount of wealth from the temple, not just in coin but in magical equipment.”
“Yeah, yeah – but we’re still doing you a favor, right? You should be paying us!”
Moranna’s tone grows significantly colder, but she nods. “Very well. I shall see what I can add to the reward you will already be getting from the King.”
“Excellent. In that case – I’m in.”
The Regent turns to Nameless and hands him a sheet of paper. “That should be an accurate enough description for you. I suggest making your attack early tomorrow morning. Make it fast and once you have dispatched the high priestess and destroyed the laboratory, leave immediately.”
“Understood.”
Moranna rises and says, “If you do this successfully, you shall find the throne of Karrnath even more well-disposed towards you than it already is.” Then she turns and leaves.
“All right,” says Luna, sitting up and cracking her knuckles. “Let’s go, Nameless. Chop chop. I’ve got something important to do.” She grins broadly in anticipation.
“What’s the hurry?” asks the alienist. “You’re looking too happy. Who are you planning to kill?”
The shifter snorts dismissively. “Kill-schmill! I’m going shopping with Elaine. She said she’s got this wonderful curtain-maker I need to meet. Don’t worry – I’m getting some for all your rooms. And I’ll make sure yours are purple.”
Nameless objects, “I don’t think purple will match the rakshasa rugs,” even as he begins the motions of his spell.
“Arguments about décor!” Korm says with a sad head-shake to Six. “I knew I’d regret this trip!”
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