Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
Vorput said:
Actually, Shilsen has been slacking a bit. We may have to bust out the duct tape and keep him strapped to the water heater in my building...not so he stays warm during the winter, but so he keeps the water heater warm
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
If you think these updates are great, just wait until you find out what we did via our private forums recently - the way things have gone, and the things that just got done the past couple days will blow your mind away
carborundum
Adventurer
My thread subscription hiccuped and never told me about all this - and now I have three updates printed out and coming to work with me. Fantastic!
shilsen
Adventurer
Two days later, the Angels are all back in Sharn, waiting outside an office in the central House Cannith enclave.
“So tell me again why we’re here?” grumbles Luna. “And why you think messing with these stuck-up dragonmarked snobs is a good idea?”
For a moment, Six almost regrets the fact that he cannot physically sigh or roll his eyes. “I already told you. They’re producing copies of that harness I let them study. So I want to learn a little about it and get a finder’s fee.” Gareth nods. “Makes sense to me. And what did the dragonmarked houses do to you?”
“Nothing,” growls Luna, “But I just don’t like them being all high-and-mighty because they’ve got those weird marks. And why do they let them do all that extra magical stuff?”
“You know,” says Korm, “You can do a whole lot of things nobody else in all of Breland can, you know.” He grins, “Other than me.”
“You wish! And of course I can do all that. I’m a druid! And I work at it. But these guys are just born with it.”
“Actually,” begins Gareth, “One is never born with…,” but Luna cuts him off. “You know what I mean! Plus it’s all because of weird inbreeding and all. Why do we need some strange inbred nut to fly an airship?!”
Nameless laughs. “So that’s what it’s all about!” Luna has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed, as she nods, before turning to Six. “You’re sure that when you get your harness to copy a dragonmark it’s no good? Maybe you just need to practice with it.”
Six shakes his head. “It’s not even actually magical when I copy one. Sorry.” Luna frowns disappointedly and then turns back to Nameless, her frown deepening as she studies the alienist carefully. “What’s wrong with your voice? You’ve been sounding a little weird.”
Nameless shrugs. “Things change.”
“Yes,” says Gareth, looking at his metal hand. “We can all vouch for that, but it’s not just a physical thing. You’re … I don’t know how to put it … a little more distant than you normally are. And a little less patient, maybe. I was not expecting you to try summoning a bunch of creatures to get us into that village!”
Nameless says nothing. Perhaps I simply have less time to put up with foolish people than you. Luna, on the other hand, chortles loudly. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to go off and scare the crap out of a bunch of yokels. Who didn’t even have a purge or anything going on!”
“We did get to save three people,” Gareth points out. “Save?” adds Korm. “We made them rich! When we gave them a hundred galifars each I thought they’d pass out!”
“I didn’t expect you to come back talking about Ryger as much either,” says Six. Luna’s eyes sparkle at the comment. “He’s just a really nice guy. And smart. And dishy!” Mercurially, she turns to glare at the others. “And I’m telling you right here right now, nobody is to be rude to me when he eventually meets you. None of those ‘fat’ cracks! And nobody mentions that pregnancy thing Mordain did!”
Korm grins from ear to ear. “None of that would ever occur to us!”
Luna is about to reply, when Six thankfully notes that a Cannith functionary is indicating that they should enter. “Let’s go.”
There are two people waiting for the Angels when they enter. One is Jerim d’Cannith, the official Six spoke to on his first visit there and the other is a middle-aged woman whom Jerim introduces as “Tarya d’Cannith, one of the most experienced artificers in our House.”
The latter does almost all of the talking during the meeting. She confirms what Six has already been told: House Cannith is creating copies of the harness, they are being able to do so because it coincidentally fits perfectly with a schema they already possessed, it works only on warforged and permanently bonds to the user, and has not yet been released to the public. Besides answering his questions, Tarya has a few for Six too. She is very interested to make sure that he has not shown it to anyone else, especially members of Cannith West or Cannith North, the two other fragments of the original House that Cannith has split into (along with Cannith East, centered in Breland) after the loss of the central House enclave in Cyre on the Day of Mourning. Six mentions that the only person who has really had a chance to study it besides the Cannith East artificers is Mordain the Fleshweaver, but the name does not mean anything to Tarya, and the information that he is off in Droaam assuages any concerns she might have.
After a little discussion, Tarya offers Six a one-time “finder’s fee” of 10,000 galifars, or the equivalent amount of magical equipment or augmentations. “So that we do not have any misunderstandings in the future,” she adds smoothly, “You will need to sign a contract promising that you won’t ask for further payment, and that you won’t provide information about the harness to anyone else. If it is discovered that you have done so, you’ll be willing to return the payment and pay an additional 20,000 galifars as a penalty.”
That’s a LOT of money! After a few moments of thought, Six nods. “I agree. But naturally I presume there won’t be a penalty if the information is forced or stolen for me, correct? We have a dangerous lifestyle, and unplanned for things can happen.”
“That is acceptable,” says Tarya, before sliding across a large envelope. “We have the contract here.”
“Let me take a look at that,” offers Gareth, knowing that his training in the laws of Khorvaire and especially the Galifar Code should help him find any loopholes – especially intentional ones. After examining it carefully, he says, “Look’s all right.”
A few minutes later, the Angels walk out of the Cannith enclave. “So, what next?” asks Korm. Nameless pats a belt pouch. “We go empty out the portable hole and make some magic item dealer wet himself with excitement.”
* * * * *
The Angels awake the next morning, back in Gareth’s family home outside Karrlakton, feeling slightly different. But none of them can identify it until Nameless notices that one of the two magical auras each has had since meeting Mordain. “The geas is gone.”
“So that’s what it is!” Luna scratches her head. “Yup, I don’t have that strong feeling I shouldn’t bother Mordain any more. Maybe we should visit him again some time. We could ask about whether his creations were the ones causing trouble for Ryger. And he might want to give us more stuff.”
More pragmatic, Six turns to Nameless. “You said that when the spell ends would let you gauge Mordain’s power. How many days is it since we left him?”
“28 days. I seriously doubt he could make a geas last that long with a normal casting, so he must have extended them and cast them earlier. Which means I can’t get a precise idea of his power.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters. As for meeting him, we can put it on the list. But first we need to meet Moranna, like Gareth’s mom said, and work out the details for the return.”
* * *
“So let me get this straight,” says Gareth. “We’re leaving Korth on the Serenity with Haydith the day after tomorrow, except it won’t be Haydith?”
“Correct,” replies Moranna crisply. “It shall be a decoy. After the official leave-taking from her brother, the princess will go to her room with you to collect some things and be joined by the rest of her entourage, and that’s where the switch will be made. The replacement and you will board the airship and leave. One hour later, you will teleport back to the princess’ room with Maddox. Then you will teleport directly to Wroat with Haydith and Maddox, where they will be expecting you. I shall provide you with a precise description of the chamber you will be going to. Any questions?”
“Yes,” says Nameless. “I’m curious why you didn’t just allow us to do this when Haydith was coming here. I did offer, at the time.”
Moranna studies the alienist silently for a second, and then says, “Frankly, we didn’t know you well enough to trust you that far. Guarding the princess is one thing, but allowing teleportation with her is another thing. And the fact that she was stopping at Aundair on a diplomatic mission was also a significant factor. Now, of course, things are very different. You have earned the trust of the Crown, and we are reasonably certain that you are not working for any of Karrnath’s enemies.”
Korm laughs. “Reasonably?”
“Reasonably,” repeats Moranna dryly, without a smile. “Certainty is always difficult.”
“Despite that rousing vote of confidence,” says Nameless in a similar tone, “It sounds like a good plan. If that’s all, we’ll see you on the 8th.”
As he abruptly begins to rise, drawing a small frown from Moranna, Gareth puts in, “There is one more thing. About that evil relic I had loaned you….”
“Yes,” says the Regent. “We have not finished studying it yet. I shall have it returned to you as soon as we can.”
Gareth frowns. “I shall need to have it when we leave. We may not be able to return here just to collect it, and you did promise to have it back for me before we left.”
“All right,” says Moranna crisply. “You shall have it before you leave.”
* * * * *
Nameless, Luna, Gareth, Haydith and Maddox appear in Wroat, to find themselves facing a small squad of guards wearing the livery of the royal family of Breland. The room, the Great Hall of Brokenblade Castle, differs drastically from the audience chambers that the Angels have seen in Fairhaven and Korth. Where Aurala’s hall is a riot of color and architectural grandeur, and Kaius’ is spartan and austere, this massive chamber is more comfortable than both and decorated in a rustic style, with open hearths where large fires are burning, and log-framed ceilings and walls.
At one end of the room is a large stone-and-wood chair, which seems to fit like a glove around the man who lounges in it. With graying hair and moustache, he looks to be in his sixties, but his burly and muscular form would fit a much younger person. A tall warforged with heavy armor plating stands beside the chair, the holy symbol of Dol Arrah, goddess of honor and sacrifice, hanging prominently on his chest. Two tigers with striped white-and-black fur lie beside the chair, which Luna recognizes as a pair of magebred animals, creatures bred by House Vadalis for exceptional strength and increased intelligence.
As soon as Haydith sees the seated man, she says, “Boranel!” and runs to him. He smiles broadly and stands, wraps her in a bear-hug and gives her a kiss on the forehead. “What – you thought I wouldn’t be waiting for you?” Then the two walk towards the Angels with an arm around each other, followed by the warforged and the tigers. Maddox bows as he approaches, but the man waves it away with a slight grimace, and then says, “Come on, Hayd, introduce us.” Haydith smiles happily and says, “The Guardian Angels of Sharn, let me introduce you to a friend of mine. His Royal Majesty King Boranel ir’Wynarn, his most puissant and amazing monarch of Bre…” She is cut off by Boranel twisting her ear, causing her to give a yell and respond with a swift box on the arm. “Hello, folks!” he says, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure!”
After a moment’s surprise, the Angels shake hands with arguably the most powerful monarch in Khorvaire, who sounds more like a friendly acquaintance they might meet in a bar. Korm and Six, after being extracted from the portable hole, do so as well. As they are doing so, a door at the end of the chamber opens and a formally dressed man looks in. The sound of many people moving around behind him filters through. “Your majesty,” he says, in a slightly disapproving manner, “The petitioners are….”
Boranel sighs and says, “All right. You can handle them today.” The man looks startled and says, “But, your majesty…,” but the king cuts him off with a wave and a “You’ll be fine. I’m going to be busy for an hour.” He then indicates that the Angels should follow him and leads them towards another exit, followed by the warforged and his tigers, and the guards at a distance. Haydith giggles as they head out, saying, “That’s horrible! Moranna would have apoplexy if Kaius tried something like this.” Boranel shrugs and says lightly, “Well, I’m not your brother,” but there is a faint edge to his words.
The king proceeds to lead the group along a set of empty corridors until they reach a comfortable sitting room. The large windows look out onto the Howling River and the city of Wroat, which rests on the two banks, with Brokenblade Castle on a man-made island in the middle of the river. Boranel gestures to the seats and says “Sit down. Oh, before I forget – Hass ir’Tain and Fenlen ir’Kess wish to meet you.”
“Who’s Fenlen ir’whatever?” asks Luna. “The member of parliament who hired us to escort Haydith,” says Nameless.
“Yes,” says Boranel, “But you can meet them after we talk.” The king drops into a large couch, while Haydith curls up comfortably next to him. The two tigers stretch out lazily at his feet, and the warforged warrior – the only one of the guards to follow them in – takes up a position behind him. “This,” says Boranel, indicating him, “Is Three. I’d ask him to sit down, but he’ll refuse. Right, pal?”
“Yes, your majesty,” says the warforged, drawing a sigh from the king. Boranel says, “Three is a damn good friend and bodyguard, but he has relaxation problems.” He raises a hand, cups it beside his mouth, and feigns a whisper. “Even if he doesn’t have one, Three’s got a stick up his ass. It’s a paladin thing!”
Korm chortles and says, “I know what you mean. We’ve got the same issue,” pointing at Gareth. While the paladin gives Korm a dirty look, Three rumbles, “His majesty excels at poor jokes. It’s a royal thing.”
Boranel throws back his head and guffaws. “Good one, Three.” Then he looks at the Angels. “So, tell me what happened with you and my little Hayd here.” The princess grimaces, throwing a quick look at Gareth. “Don’t call me that!” The king gives her ear a tug and turns his attention back to the Angels. “Go ahead.”
The Angels spend the next half an hour talking to the king of Breland, finding him to be very good company, and remarkably casual and comfortable with them. Boranel’s reputation for approachability and lack of interest in ceremony and protocol is apparently true.
It’s also quite clear that the king and Haydith are very fond of each other, like an uncle and his favorite niece. He listens with especially keen interest to the details of the attack on her and then says seriously, “I’m in your debt for protecting her.”
Luna promptly asks, “Can we get a reward then?” Gareth glares at her and says immediately, “No! There is no need for a reward, your majesty. We were pleased to be of assistance.” Luna begins to protest, but for once Nameless agrees with Gareth and shushes her. Having the king of Breland grateful to us can mean a lot more long-term benefits than a reward.
Boranel, who started laughing at Luna’s request, says to her, “Ah, you’re clearly an adventurer! I was once too, though it was a long time ago.” He glances at the others. “You’re sure no reward is needed?”
“Absolutely, your majesty.”
“All right. But let me know if I can ever aid you in the future.” Boranel looks out of the window, sighs and says, “But now I must go. Unfortunately, I’m really busy today and for the next couple, otherwise I’d invite you to stay. But hopefully we shall meet again.” Haydith looks significantly disappointed, adding quickly, “You will come and visit, won’t you?” Though the words are delivered generally, her eyes are on Gareth.
“We shall certainly try to do so,” says the paladin.
The Angels are then transported to the city of Wroat proper, where they meet Hass and Fenlen in the Parliament Hall on the southern shore of the Howling River. The two members of parliament thank the adventurers for their actions and then Hass asks, “What are your future plans?”
“We have a few possibilities on the table,” says Nameless, “But no definite decisions right now. Why?”
“We were just wondering,” says Hass politely. “Especially if you were planning to continue working for other nations, such as for Q’barra, or during the attack on the Emerald Claw for Karrnath.”
So that’s what you’re worried about! “We weren’t working for any countries,” Nameless replies. “We just got some jobs, and they happened to be in different places I have no intention of serving the interests of any nation.” The alienist studies the two members of the Brelish parliament and adds pointedly, “Any nation.”
Fenlen raises an eyebrow at the alienist’s tone, but it’s Hass who keeps speaking. “I see. You should understand that with the current political instability in Khorvaire, every nation is interested in gaining whatever mileage it can from any area. And you happen to be not only the most powerful adventurers on the continent but certainly the most famous. The fact that you live in Breland and most of you are citizens of this country, means there are people in every other nation who would like to take any advantage of your fame. And any time your actions can be linked to any other country, it gets much easier to do so.”
He places a folded sheet of paper on the table and slides it across to Gareth. Opening it, the paladin sees a stylized symbol of the Silver Flame on the top of it. “The Flamekeep Crier,” says Hass, “A newspaper locally produced in Thrane. You’ll see the second page mentions the actions of an adventuring group known as the Shining Flames, specifically sponsored by the Church. It’s not too big a guess that they’re trying to create a Thranish equivalent of your group.”
Korm laughs. “I’d say they have a while to go yet.”
“I see,” says Nameless. “Actually, I have an idea on the subject which might help to diminish future political conflicts. We have been considering the possibility of creating an international league of adventurers, drawing upon the best qualities of the various nations. You know, arcanists from Aundair, Karrnathi swordsmen, and so on. Not only would such a collection of people mean greater security for the people of Khorvaire, but it should create strong links between the nations.”
This time, Fenlen speaks up. “That’s an intriguing concept. As the creators of the concept, would you base it in Breland?”
Nameless shrugs. “I haven’t decided. The idea is still mostly theoretical now. But I believe it is worthwhile. Building ties amongst people who are likely to be – or become, in the future – powerful and influential, and establishing back channels of communication which aren’t reliant on more official channels, could be quite useful for the future of Khorvaire.”
“All right,” says Fenlen. “Let us know if we can aid in some way.”
* * *
A short time later, the Angels are sitting in their main sitting room in Sharn, talking to their changeling combination of attendant, major-domo, house-sitter and spy, Fett.
“So when did Surr’kal stop by?” asks Korm. “Yesterday,” Fett replies, “He said that Gurr’khan has arrived in Sharn and hopes you’ll be able to see him soon, since he can only stay for a few days.”
Luna chuckles. “I like Gurr’khan. He’s testy. And I’m betting he’ll be a lot more when he hears of Nameless’ condition.”
“What condition?” asks Fett.
“Nothing major,” says Nameless, restraining himself from glaring at the shifter.
“If you say so,” says Fett with a shrug and a smile, though his face is openly skeptical. “Anyhow, here’s something else that came for you. This morning, in fact.” He places a sealed package before them. “It’s from House Cannith.”
Nameless scans the package, picking up ten faint magical auras within, half of them illusion and half of the universal school. Probably not a trap, but let’s be safe.” “Thank you, Fett,” he says. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Sure,” says Fett, rising and leaving. Once he is gone, the Angels carefully check the package and, finding no signs of danger, open it. Inside the package are five smaller boxes, individually labeled with the names of the Angels, and accompanied by a note that says simply, “With my compliments. Tarya d’Cannith.”
“Why do I doubt that Cannith decided we need extra payment?” asks Six rhetorically.
“Who cares?” says Luna, quickly ripping the box with her name – the largest of the lot – open. “Oh my … this is so cool!” She holds up its contents, a wood and metal model of a bear, carefully painted and carved to create a near-perfect facsimile of the form she takes in battle.
“Hah!” The others quickly do so as well, each revealing a figure that matches the new owner. “Dolls?” asks Six, studying a tiny version of himself, which glints in the light of the continual flame on the wall as does his own breastplate.
“No,” says Korm. “They’re action figures! See?” He moves the articulated arms and legs, with joints at elbows, shoulders, knees and other places. “They even got my sword correct!”
“And mine,” says Gareth, studying the tiny version of the Endless Blade that his little version holds in its hand. “Not bad at all!”
“No, they’re not bad at all,” agrees Nameless. “But I’m a little relieved that they didn’t create mine with a tentacle-arm. That would be a little too much information. They got this bit quite accurate.” He holds up his figure, to show that it has tiny blue sparkles around the eyes, just as the alienist’s arcane sight gives him. He slides a finger behind the little head and slides it up, causing the little blue sparkles to move up, revealing that they are built on a small frame to slide onto or off the head.
“Oh man! That’s great! And check this out!” She slides her thumb across a raised spot on the back of the bear, causing a carefully concealed panel to reveal a hollow inside, within which a smaller figure lies. The latter is a copy of Luna in her shifter form. “Two of me!”
“There’s a stud on mine too,” says Gareth. “I really hope they didn’t decide to provide mine with a littler version.” He pushes at it, but instead of sliding sideways, it depresses with a click. The little figure in his hand promptly proclaims in a voice that is a strange combination of tinny and baritone, “I am the champion of the Silver Flame!”
After he and his companions have almost fallen off their seats in amusement and delight, the others quickly search their figures, each finding a similar stud. Experimentation reveals that each figure is capable of speaking half a dozen phrases, picking one at random when the stud is pressed. “Very creative,” says Nameless. “So that’s what the aura comes from. Magic mouth, I think, and probably a prestidigitation as well.” He glances at Gareth. “But I’m still a little disappointed that yours doesn’t say ‘Heal me!’”
The Angels spend the next few minutes experimenting with the various figures. Within the boxes, they find that each figure has a set of appropriately-sized objects that it comes with, ranging from cooking implements for mini-Korm to a couple of summoned creatures for Nameless.
“You know,” says Luna, “I never thought I’d say this for something that isn’t really powerfully magical or very shiny, but this is the best treasure I’ve ever seen!”
“So tell me again why we’re here?” grumbles Luna. “And why you think messing with these stuck-up dragonmarked snobs is a good idea?”
For a moment, Six almost regrets the fact that he cannot physically sigh or roll his eyes. “I already told you. They’re producing copies of that harness I let them study. So I want to learn a little about it and get a finder’s fee.” Gareth nods. “Makes sense to me. And what did the dragonmarked houses do to you?”
“Nothing,” growls Luna, “But I just don’t like them being all high-and-mighty because they’ve got those weird marks. And why do they let them do all that extra magical stuff?”
“You know,” says Korm, “You can do a whole lot of things nobody else in all of Breland can, you know.” He grins, “Other than me.”
“You wish! And of course I can do all that. I’m a druid! And I work at it. But these guys are just born with it.”
“Actually,” begins Gareth, “One is never born with…,” but Luna cuts him off. “You know what I mean! Plus it’s all because of weird inbreeding and all. Why do we need some strange inbred nut to fly an airship?!”
Nameless laughs. “So that’s what it’s all about!” Luna has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed, as she nods, before turning to Six. “You’re sure that when you get your harness to copy a dragonmark it’s no good? Maybe you just need to practice with it.”
Six shakes his head. “It’s not even actually magical when I copy one. Sorry.” Luna frowns disappointedly and then turns back to Nameless, her frown deepening as she studies the alienist carefully. “What’s wrong with your voice? You’ve been sounding a little weird.”
Nameless shrugs. “Things change.”
“Yes,” says Gareth, looking at his metal hand. “We can all vouch for that, but it’s not just a physical thing. You’re … I don’t know how to put it … a little more distant than you normally are. And a little less patient, maybe. I was not expecting you to try summoning a bunch of creatures to get us into that village!”
Nameless says nothing. Perhaps I simply have less time to put up with foolish people than you. Luna, on the other hand, chortles loudly. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to go off and scare the crap out of a bunch of yokels. Who didn’t even have a purge or anything going on!”
“We did get to save three people,” Gareth points out. “Save?” adds Korm. “We made them rich! When we gave them a hundred galifars each I thought they’d pass out!”
“I didn’t expect you to come back talking about Ryger as much either,” says Six. Luna’s eyes sparkle at the comment. “He’s just a really nice guy. And smart. And dishy!” Mercurially, she turns to glare at the others. “And I’m telling you right here right now, nobody is to be rude to me when he eventually meets you. None of those ‘fat’ cracks! And nobody mentions that pregnancy thing Mordain did!”
Korm grins from ear to ear. “None of that would ever occur to us!”
Luna is about to reply, when Six thankfully notes that a Cannith functionary is indicating that they should enter. “Let’s go.”
There are two people waiting for the Angels when they enter. One is Jerim d’Cannith, the official Six spoke to on his first visit there and the other is a middle-aged woman whom Jerim introduces as “Tarya d’Cannith, one of the most experienced artificers in our House.”
The latter does almost all of the talking during the meeting. She confirms what Six has already been told: House Cannith is creating copies of the harness, they are being able to do so because it coincidentally fits perfectly with a schema they already possessed, it works only on warforged and permanently bonds to the user, and has not yet been released to the public. Besides answering his questions, Tarya has a few for Six too. She is very interested to make sure that he has not shown it to anyone else, especially members of Cannith West or Cannith North, the two other fragments of the original House that Cannith has split into (along with Cannith East, centered in Breland) after the loss of the central House enclave in Cyre on the Day of Mourning. Six mentions that the only person who has really had a chance to study it besides the Cannith East artificers is Mordain the Fleshweaver, but the name does not mean anything to Tarya, and the information that he is off in Droaam assuages any concerns she might have.
After a little discussion, Tarya offers Six a one-time “finder’s fee” of 10,000 galifars, or the equivalent amount of magical equipment or augmentations. “So that we do not have any misunderstandings in the future,” she adds smoothly, “You will need to sign a contract promising that you won’t ask for further payment, and that you won’t provide information about the harness to anyone else. If it is discovered that you have done so, you’ll be willing to return the payment and pay an additional 20,000 galifars as a penalty.”
That’s a LOT of money! After a few moments of thought, Six nods. “I agree. But naturally I presume there won’t be a penalty if the information is forced or stolen for me, correct? We have a dangerous lifestyle, and unplanned for things can happen.”
“That is acceptable,” says Tarya, before sliding across a large envelope. “We have the contract here.”
“Let me take a look at that,” offers Gareth, knowing that his training in the laws of Khorvaire and especially the Galifar Code should help him find any loopholes – especially intentional ones. After examining it carefully, he says, “Look’s all right.”
A few minutes later, the Angels walk out of the Cannith enclave. “So, what next?” asks Korm. Nameless pats a belt pouch. “We go empty out the portable hole and make some magic item dealer wet himself with excitement.”
* * * * *
The Angels awake the next morning, back in Gareth’s family home outside Karrlakton, feeling slightly different. But none of them can identify it until Nameless notices that one of the two magical auras each has had since meeting Mordain. “The geas is gone.”
“So that’s what it is!” Luna scratches her head. “Yup, I don’t have that strong feeling I shouldn’t bother Mordain any more. Maybe we should visit him again some time. We could ask about whether his creations were the ones causing trouble for Ryger. And he might want to give us more stuff.”
More pragmatic, Six turns to Nameless. “You said that when the spell ends would let you gauge Mordain’s power. How many days is it since we left him?”
“28 days. I seriously doubt he could make a geas last that long with a normal casting, so he must have extended them and cast them earlier. Which means I can’t get a precise idea of his power.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters. As for meeting him, we can put it on the list. But first we need to meet Moranna, like Gareth’s mom said, and work out the details for the return.”
* * *
“So let me get this straight,” says Gareth. “We’re leaving Korth on the Serenity with Haydith the day after tomorrow, except it won’t be Haydith?”
“Correct,” replies Moranna crisply. “It shall be a decoy. After the official leave-taking from her brother, the princess will go to her room with you to collect some things and be joined by the rest of her entourage, and that’s where the switch will be made. The replacement and you will board the airship and leave. One hour later, you will teleport back to the princess’ room with Maddox. Then you will teleport directly to Wroat with Haydith and Maddox, where they will be expecting you. I shall provide you with a precise description of the chamber you will be going to. Any questions?”
“Yes,” says Nameless. “I’m curious why you didn’t just allow us to do this when Haydith was coming here. I did offer, at the time.”
Moranna studies the alienist silently for a second, and then says, “Frankly, we didn’t know you well enough to trust you that far. Guarding the princess is one thing, but allowing teleportation with her is another thing. And the fact that she was stopping at Aundair on a diplomatic mission was also a significant factor. Now, of course, things are very different. You have earned the trust of the Crown, and we are reasonably certain that you are not working for any of Karrnath’s enemies.”
Korm laughs. “Reasonably?”
“Reasonably,” repeats Moranna dryly, without a smile. “Certainty is always difficult.”
“Despite that rousing vote of confidence,” says Nameless in a similar tone, “It sounds like a good plan. If that’s all, we’ll see you on the 8th.”
As he abruptly begins to rise, drawing a small frown from Moranna, Gareth puts in, “There is one more thing. About that evil relic I had loaned you….”
“Yes,” says the Regent. “We have not finished studying it yet. I shall have it returned to you as soon as we can.”
Gareth frowns. “I shall need to have it when we leave. We may not be able to return here just to collect it, and you did promise to have it back for me before we left.”
“All right,” says Moranna crisply. “You shall have it before you leave.”
* * * * *
Nameless, Luna, Gareth, Haydith and Maddox appear in Wroat, to find themselves facing a small squad of guards wearing the livery of the royal family of Breland. The room, the Great Hall of Brokenblade Castle, differs drastically from the audience chambers that the Angels have seen in Fairhaven and Korth. Where Aurala’s hall is a riot of color and architectural grandeur, and Kaius’ is spartan and austere, this massive chamber is more comfortable than both and decorated in a rustic style, with open hearths where large fires are burning, and log-framed ceilings and walls.
At one end of the room is a large stone-and-wood chair, which seems to fit like a glove around the man who lounges in it. With graying hair and moustache, he looks to be in his sixties, but his burly and muscular form would fit a much younger person. A tall warforged with heavy armor plating stands beside the chair, the holy symbol of Dol Arrah, goddess of honor and sacrifice, hanging prominently on his chest. Two tigers with striped white-and-black fur lie beside the chair, which Luna recognizes as a pair of magebred animals, creatures bred by House Vadalis for exceptional strength and increased intelligence.
As soon as Haydith sees the seated man, she says, “Boranel!” and runs to him. He smiles broadly and stands, wraps her in a bear-hug and gives her a kiss on the forehead. “What – you thought I wouldn’t be waiting for you?” Then the two walk towards the Angels with an arm around each other, followed by the warforged and the tigers. Maddox bows as he approaches, but the man waves it away with a slight grimace, and then says, “Come on, Hayd, introduce us.” Haydith smiles happily and says, “The Guardian Angels of Sharn, let me introduce you to a friend of mine. His Royal Majesty King Boranel ir’Wynarn, his most puissant and amazing monarch of Bre…” She is cut off by Boranel twisting her ear, causing her to give a yell and respond with a swift box on the arm. “Hello, folks!” he says, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure!”
After a moment’s surprise, the Angels shake hands with arguably the most powerful monarch in Khorvaire, who sounds more like a friendly acquaintance they might meet in a bar. Korm and Six, after being extracted from the portable hole, do so as well. As they are doing so, a door at the end of the chamber opens and a formally dressed man looks in. The sound of many people moving around behind him filters through. “Your majesty,” he says, in a slightly disapproving manner, “The petitioners are….”
Boranel sighs and says, “All right. You can handle them today.” The man looks startled and says, “But, your majesty…,” but the king cuts him off with a wave and a “You’ll be fine. I’m going to be busy for an hour.” He then indicates that the Angels should follow him and leads them towards another exit, followed by the warforged and his tigers, and the guards at a distance. Haydith giggles as they head out, saying, “That’s horrible! Moranna would have apoplexy if Kaius tried something like this.” Boranel shrugs and says lightly, “Well, I’m not your brother,” but there is a faint edge to his words.
The king proceeds to lead the group along a set of empty corridors until they reach a comfortable sitting room. The large windows look out onto the Howling River and the city of Wroat, which rests on the two banks, with Brokenblade Castle on a man-made island in the middle of the river. Boranel gestures to the seats and says “Sit down. Oh, before I forget – Hass ir’Tain and Fenlen ir’Kess wish to meet you.”
“Who’s Fenlen ir’whatever?” asks Luna. “The member of parliament who hired us to escort Haydith,” says Nameless.
“Yes,” says Boranel, “But you can meet them after we talk.” The king drops into a large couch, while Haydith curls up comfortably next to him. The two tigers stretch out lazily at his feet, and the warforged warrior – the only one of the guards to follow them in – takes up a position behind him. “This,” says Boranel, indicating him, “Is Three. I’d ask him to sit down, but he’ll refuse. Right, pal?”
“Yes, your majesty,” says the warforged, drawing a sigh from the king. Boranel says, “Three is a damn good friend and bodyguard, but he has relaxation problems.” He raises a hand, cups it beside his mouth, and feigns a whisper. “Even if he doesn’t have one, Three’s got a stick up his ass. It’s a paladin thing!”
Korm chortles and says, “I know what you mean. We’ve got the same issue,” pointing at Gareth. While the paladin gives Korm a dirty look, Three rumbles, “His majesty excels at poor jokes. It’s a royal thing.”
Boranel throws back his head and guffaws. “Good one, Three.” Then he looks at the Angels. “So, tell me what happened with you and my little Hayd here.” The princess grimaces, throwing a quick look at Gareth. “Don’t call me that!” The king gives her ear a tug and turns his attention back to the Angels. “Go ahead.”
The Angels spend the next half an hour talking to the king of Breland, finding him to be very good company, and remarkably casual and comfortable with them. Boranel’s reputation for approachability and lack of interest in ceremony and protocol is apparently true.
It’s also quite clear that the king and Haydith are very fond of each other, like an uncle and his favorite niece. He listens with especially keen interest to the details of the attack on her and then says seriously, “I’m in your debt for protecting her.”
Luna promptly asks, “Can we get a reward then?” Gareth glares at her and says immediately, “No! There is no need for a reward, your majesty. We were pleased to be of assistance.” Luna begins to protest, but for once Nameless agrees with Gareth and shushes her. Having the king of Breland grateful to us can mean a lot more long-term benefits than a reward.
Boranel, who started laughing at Luna’s request, says to her, “Ah, you’re clearly an adventurer! I was once too, though it was a long time ago.” He glances at the others. “You’re sure no reward is needed?”
“Absolutely, your majesty.”
“All right. But let me know if I can ever aid you in the future.” Boranel looks out of the window, sighs and says, “But now I must go. Unfortunately, I’m really busy today and for the next couple, otherwise I’d invite you to stay. But hopefully we shall meet again.” Haydith looks significantly disappointed, adding quickly, “You will come and visit, won’t you?” Though the words are delivered generally, her eyes are on Gareth.
“We shall certainly try to do so,” says the paladin.
The Angels are then transported to the city of Wroat proper, where they meet Hass and Fenlen in the Parliament Hall on the southern shore of the Howling River. The two members of parliament thank the adventurers for their actions and then Hass asks, “What are your future plans?”
“We have a few possibilities on the table,” says Nameless, “But no definite decisions right now. Why?”
“We were just wondering,” says Hass politely. “Especially if you were planning to continue working for other nations, such as for Q’barra, or during the attack on the Emerald Claw for Karrnath.”
So that’s what you’re worried about! “We weren’t working for any countries,” Nameless replies. “We just got some jobs, and they happened to be in different places I have no intention of serving the interests of any nation.” The alienist studies the two members of the Brelish parliament and adds pointedly, “Any nation.”
Fenlen raises an eyebrow at the alienist’s tone, but it’s Hass who keeps speaking. “I see. You should understand that with the current political instability in Khorvaire, every nation is interested in gaining whatever mileage it can from any area. And you happen to be not only the most powerful adventurers on the continent but certainly the most famous. The fact that you live in Breland and most of you are citizens of this country, means there are people in every other nation who would like to take any advantage of your fame. And any time your actions can be linked to any other country, it gets much easier to do so.”
He places a folded sheet of paper on the table and slides it across to Gareth. Opening it, the paladin sees a stylized symbol of the Silver Flame on the top of it. “The Flamekeep Crier,” says Hass, “A newspaper locally produced in Thrane. You’ll see the second page mentions the actions of an adventuring group known as the Shining Flames, specifically sponsored by the Church. It’s not too big a guess that they’re trying to create a Thranish equivalent of your group.”
Korm laughs. “I’d say they have a while to go yet.”
“I see,” says Nameless. “Actually, I have an idea on the subject which might help to diminish future political conflicts. We have been considering the possibility of creating an international league of adventurers, drawing upon the best qualities of the various nations. You know, arcanists from Aundair, Karrnathi swordsmen, and so on. Not only would such a collection of people mean greater security for the people of Khorvaire, but it should create strong links between the nations.”
This time, Fenlen speaks up. “That’s an intriguing concept. As the creators of the concept, would you base it in Breland?”
Nameless shrugs. “I haven’t decided. The idea is still mostly theoretical now. But I believe it is worthwhile. Building ties amongst people who are likely to be – or become, in the future – powerful and influential, and establishing back channels of communication which aren’t reliant on more official channels, could be quite useful for the future of Khorvaire.”
“All right,” says Fenlen. “Let us know if we can aid in some way.”
* * *
A short time later, the Angels are sitting in their main sitting room in Sharn, talking to their changeling combination of attendant, major-domo, house-sitter and spy, Fett.
“So when did Surr’kal stop by?” asks Korm. “Yesterday,” Fett replies, “He said that Gurr’khan has arrived in Sharn and hopes you’ll be able to see him soon, since he can only stay for a few days.”
Luna chuckles. “I like Gurr’khan. He’s testy. And I’m betting he’ll be a lot more when he hears of Nameless’ condition.”
“What condition?” asks Fett.
“Nothing major,” says Nameless, restraining himself from glaring at the shifter.
“If you say so,” says Fett with a shrug and a smile, though his face is openly skeptical. “Anyhow, here’s something else that came for you. This morning, in fact.” He places a sealed package before them. “It’s from House Cannith.”
Nameless scans the package, picking up ten faint magical auras within, half of them illusion and half of the universal school. Probably not a trap, but let’s be safe.” “Thank you, Fett,” he says. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Sure,” says Fett, rising and leaving. Once he is gone, the Angels carefully check the package and, finding no signs of danger, open it. Inside the package are five smaller boxes, individually labeled with the names of the Angels, and accompanied by a note that says simply, “With my compliments. Tarya d’Cannith.”
“Why do I doubt that Cannith decided we need extra payment?” asks Six rhetorically.
“Who cares?” says Luna, quickly ripping the box with her name – the largest of the lot – open. “Oh my … this is so cool!” She holds up its contents, a wood and metal model of a bear, carefully painted and carved to create a near-perfect facsimile of the form she takes in battle.
“Hah!” The others quickly do so as well, each revealing a figure that matches the new owner. “Dolls?” asks Six, studying a tiny version of himself, which glints in the light of the continual flame on the wall as does his own breastplate.
“No,” says Korm. “They’re action figures! See?” He moves the articulated arms and legs, with joints at elbows, shoulders, knees and other places. “They even got my sword correct!”
“And mine,” says Gareth, studying the tiny version of the Endless Blade that his little version holds in its hand. “Not bad at all!”
“No, they’re not bad at all,” agrees Nameless. “But I’m a little relieved that they didn’t create mine with a tentacle-arm. That would be a little too much information. They got this bit quite accurate.” He holds up his figure, to show that it has tiny blue sparkles around the eyes, just as the alienist’s arcane sight gives him. He slides a finger behind the little head and slides it up, causing the little blue sparkles to move up, revealing that they are built on a small frame to slide onto or off the head.
“Oh man! That’s great! And check this out!” She slides her thumb across a raised spot on the back of the bear, causing a carefully concealed panel to reveal a hollow inside, within which a smaller figure lies. The latter is a copy of Luna in her shifter form. “Two of me!”
“There’s a stud on mine too,” says Gareth. “I really hope they didn’t decide to provide mine with a littler version.” He pushes at it, but instead of sliding sideways, it depresses with a click. The little figure in his hand promptly proclaims in a voice that is a strange combination of tinny and baritone, “I am the champion of the Silver Flame!”
After he and his companions have almost fallen off their seats in amusement and delight, the others quickly search their figures, each finding a similar stud. Experimentation reveals that each figure is capable of speaking half a dozen phrases, picking one at random when the stud is pressed. “Very creative,” says Nameless. “So that’s what the aura comes from. Magic mouth, I think, and probably a prestidigitation as well.” He glances at Gareth. “But I’m still a little disappointed that yours doesn’t say ‘Heal me!’”
The Angels spend the next few minutes experimenting with the various figures. Within the boxes, they find that each figure has a set of appropriately-sized objects that it comes with, ranging from cooking implements for mini-Korm to a couple of summoned creatures for Nameless.
“You know,” says Luna, “I never thought I’d say this for something that isn’t really powerfully magical or very shiny, but this is the best treasure I’ve ever seen!”
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carborundum
Adventurer
She's right!
How cool is that, your own action figures!
How cool is that, your own action figures!
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