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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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<blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3260157" data-attributes="member: 198"><p>Here you go. An especially long instalment this time:</p><p></p><p>* * * * * * </p><p>That evening, following the directions in the letter, the group takes a skycoach to the Little Plains district of Middle Menthis. By their standards, the Angels are extremely well dressed, most of them having taken time out to do a little preparatory shopping. Almost none of them carry weapons openly, though Gareth is wearing his longsword, having stowed them all in the newly purchased <em>portable hole</em> Nameless is carrying. Of them all, Nameless looks the most distinctive, not because of his garb but because of his brightly glowing blue eyes, a result of the <em>arcane sight</em> he has cast on himself with a <em>permanency</em>. Even as the vehicle slowly soars in for a landing, it is clear that this area has a very distinctive nature, and as they embark and head inwards, the Angels find themselves in an area unlike any other in Sharn. </p><p></p><p>The population is the first change, the vast majority of it consisting of the various shorter species, predominantly halfling, with some gnomes and even a few kobolds. The skybridges are proportionately narrower, sometimes half the size of those found elsewhere in Sharn. The spatial relations between streets and towers are also different. Most of the middle and upper districts have skybridges joining large central open spaces, which connect multiple buildings that are attached to the outer sides of towers. Here, these plaza-like central areas are lacking, being replaced by a network of streets and skybridges that coil around the outside of the towers and giving access to low doorways that lead to dark, cave-like interiors. The towers themselves have been carved to resemble tents with curving sides. The effect is a district that looks like a city made of large tents, supposedly resembling the central town of Gatherhold in the Talenta Plains.</p><p></p><p>The effect is heightened by the traditional Talenta clothing that many of the inhabitants wear, and even more so by the presence of dinosaurs. Dozens of them are visible, walking across the skybridges, usually bearing riders. Some of the more skilled – or daring – ones cut across the sides of buildings or sometimes even the underside of a bridge. There are also a number of flying dinosaurs, not all with riders. They flap and soar among the towers, some of which have been built with perches for them to rest on. </p><p></p><p>The Boromar estate is easily the largest of the buildings in Little Plains, and draws one’s gaze because it is not just central but also close to two other buildings that are among the largest. One looks like a council hall for the district, while the other is a temple of Boldrei. Reaching the estate, the Angels find themselves accosted by four halfling guards, two on dinosaurs. After checking their invitation letter, one leads the group through the main entrance, where they are met by a plump, matronly halfling, who greets them and says they are expected. </p><p></p><p>She leads them down a hall to a comfortable sitting room, with furnishings designed for people of the Angels’ size, as well as for smaller people. As they walk through the hall, the adventurers notice that most of the exits they pass have been built (or rebuilt) for shorter people, which would make passage (and attacks) by human sized or larger creatures very difficult. Seeing them, Nameless grins and casts an <em>alter self</em>, taking the form of a halfling. The matron doesn’t even twitch a hair as he does so, just as she did not even glance at his glowing eyes, which he now veils through the new spell. She simply asks them to be seated and to enjoy the refreshments, saying that their host will be with them shortly.</p><p></p><p>As she leaves, the Angels quietly begin to talk among themselves.</p><p></p><p>“I’m not seeing signs of any other guests,” says Luna, while reaching for a bowl of dried nuts on the table.</p><p></p><p>“Maybe we’re the only ones?” hazards Korm.</p><p></p><p>Gareth frowns slightly. “Then it’s unlikely that this is just a social invitation.”</p><p></p><p>Six looks at him and sadly shakes his head, while Nameless says, “Let’s see now … probably most famous adventurers in Sharn … have some notoriety for destroying,” he catches a look from Luna and amends, “…um, attacking Daask drug dens … no, I don’t think they called us just because they want to welcome us to the neighborhood.”</p><p></p><p>“Well,” says Gareth, “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I am a little curious to see what they want and how they expect to get it.”</p><p></p><p>“Speaking of seeing,” says Nameless, “If you even <em>think</em> of trying to <em>detect thoughts</em> on the head of the Boromars, or anyone else in here, I will <em>disintegrate</em> your ass. You almost got us killed by Daask trying that dumb stunt.”</p><p></p><p>Gareth scowls, but then mutters, “I wasn’t about to try that. Don’t worry. I’m not…”</p><p></p><p>The conclusion to the sentence, and the inevitable rejoinder from one or more of his companions, is interrupted by the entrance of a pair of halfling guards through another doorway. They stop as they enter and step to the side, to allow the entrance of a group of three halflings and a gnome. </p><p></p><p>In the lead is a middle-aged man, his hair (worn openly, without the traditional Talenta topknot) streaked with gray. Beside him walks a plump woman of roughly the same age, the tip of a dragonmark emerging from her long-sleeved blouse. Behind them walks a younger woman, whom the Angels recognize as Ilyra Boromar, the city councilor. And behind her is the gnome, a man who seems about the same age as or slightly older than the leader. All of the halflings are dressed in simple but very well-made darkweave clothing, while the gnome wears more ordinary garb, like that of a well-to-do clerk.</p><p></p><p>“Greetings to my home,” says the male halfling, as he walks up and extends a hand. The Angels notice that he is almost completely silent as he walks, only the preternaturally fine hearing of Luna, Korm and Six picking up a whisper of sound from his footfalls. “I am Saidan Boromar,” he says, shaking hands. “This is my wife, Mala, and here is my daughter, Ilyra, who some of you may know as the councilor from Lower Dura.” The two women smile and greet the Angels, while Saidan turns to the gnome. “This is my accountant, Castar. He will be joining us for dinner. Please, sit down.”</p><p></p><p>As the Angels resume their seats, the others join them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” continues Saidan. “I have been reading and hearing about the Guardian Angels for so long that I thought I should meet you for myself.” He asks them how they are doing and begins to make general chit-chat, with Ilyra and Mala joining in. Castar, who is seated a little further away, simply sits silently and watches the group, saying nothing at all.</p><p></p><p>The conversation is pleasant but slightly strained, since the Angels are mostly just wondering what the real reason for the invitation is and when they will find out, as well as somewhat discomfited by the presence Castar, watching and studying them silently. After about fifteen minutes, they are interrupted by the entrance of another halfling. This one is disproportionately, almost comically muscular, his biceps straining the material of the hunting jacket he wears. A very functional-looking Talenta tangat is strapped to his back. As he enters, Saidan waves him over. When he comes over, Saidan introduces him as Halak Boromar, his “security chief.” Saidan adds, “You know crime in the city; you can never be too careful.” </p><p></p><p>Turning to Halak, he asks, “Is the problem taken care of?” and Halak replies simply, “Yes.” Saidan says, “Good. I will speak with you after dinner.” </p><p></p><p>Halak goes to the doorway, and then stops, turns and looks at the Angels. The expression on his face is much like that of a housewife at the market, sizing up cuts of meat. After a couple of seconds, Saidan notices and turns to look at him. He frowns slightly and Halak turns and leaves. Saidan turns back to the group and says, “Halak’s fairly new to Sharn from the Plains, so his manners are a trifle lacking, but he’s a good worker.”</p><p></p><p>He is about to continue, when his wife’s expression catches his eye. “I believe dinner has been served,” he says quickly. “We can talk more during it. Please, follow me.” The Boromars rise and lead the group out through another door and down a short corridor to a large chamber. </p><p></p><p>Entering, they find that the room contains a number of long tables, a couple of which are already occupied by numerous halflings. They greet Saidan but do not rise, and he waves at them before leading the group to the main table, which has been set for nine people. As they seat themselves, he says, “Mealtime is a very communal thing for our people. We try to keep the old customs alive here, you know.” The Angels notice that the halflings at the other table have all their food served in large bowls or dishes that they all serve themselves and, and in some cases, eat from. The food at the main table, where they sit, is more traditional to Sharn, however. </p><p></p><p>As Six is resigning himself to another hour spent watching people eat, a server places a plate in front of him and removes the cover to reveal what look like three metal biscuits, each about two inches long and an inch wide. They seem to have some metal filings on them. Saidan smiles and says, “I know warforged do not eat, so I thought I’d get you something you might not have tried. Do you know the Red Hammer Inn?”</p><p></p><p>“No, though the name sounds vaguely familiar.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s a place down in the Blackbones Cogs, run by and catering specifically to warforged. One of the people there has been experimenting with things that the warforged can taste. Supposedly these are appetizing for your species. You’re supposed to put them in your mouth but not swallow, I believe. Go ahead and try.”</p><p></p><p>A little skeptically, Six complies, to discover that the metal has been treated with various chemicals so as to react with the metal of his mouth and give off certain flavors that are particularly palpable to a warforged. With his normally very limited sense of taste, it is a very interesting experience.</p><p></p><p>While Six is trying the ‘biscuits’ and the others are digging into the quite delicious dinner, the Boromars continue to make small talk with the Angels. After a few minutes, Saidan says, “I heard that you had attacked a Daask drug den recently. And I think I remember something similar a few months ago, which was the first time I heard of you. Are you particularly opposed to Daask?”</p><p></p><p>In view of their knowledge of the Daask-Boromar equation, none of the Angels are surprised at the question. Some are amused, however, as they note Mala giving her husband the typical look of a wife whose husband insists on talking of work at dinner.</p><p></p><p>“No,” replies Nameless. “We just wanted to get some exercise and try out some new toys we have.”</p><p></p><p>“I see,” continues Saidan. “The reason I ask is that Daask has been causing trouble for some of my businesses…”</p><p></p><p>“What kind of businesses?” interrupts Gareth, sounding slightly more suspicious than he intended to.</p><p></p><p>Saidan frowns at the interruption and the tone. Mala quickly puts a hand on his arm and he smiles at her and then replies to Gareth. “Warehouses, for example. I have money in many of the warehouses servicing the docks. Some of my tenants have also been beaten up and robbed. I’m sure you’ve heard similar stories too.” </p><p></p><p>He leans forward, ignoring his food, and continues. “In view of your evident expertise and power, I was interested in hiring you to help teach Daask a lesson. Eradicating them from Sharn might be beyond even your abilities, but you could definitely hurt them significantly, and that might be enough for others, like the city Watch, to complete the job. What do you say?”</p><p></p><p>Nameless says quickly, “Unfortunately, we are busy with other engagements for the next six months.”</p><p></p><p>Gareth replies simultaneously, “We cannot accept the job, since we will be leaving the city soon.”</p><p></p><p>Saidan looks back and forth between the two and then addresses Nameless. “You say you’ll be busy here for six months, but he says you’re leaving Sharn. Which is it?”</p><p></p><p>“Both,” says Gareth. “We will be going on a quest shortly which will take us away from the city. And we cannot work for you.”</p><p></p><p>“Really? Why not, if I may ask?”</p><p></p><p>Gareth hesitates for a moment and then says, “You might want your daughter, the city councilor, to not hear this.”</p><p></p><p>Ilyra, who has been eating quietly and listening to the exchange, looks surprised. “I believe that anything you can say to my father you can say to me.” Saidan nods and says, “Yes. Go ahead. It seems you have something you’ve been waiting to tell me.”</p><p></p><p>“All right,” says Gareth curtly. “We will not work for you because you are just as dirty as Daask. Everybody knows that you are criminals, the only difference with Daask being that you have a political and a social face, which they do not. So in that sense, they are even more honest than you. I would not work for you under any circumstances.”</p><p></p><p>As Gareth is speaking, Saidan’s face turns beetroot red. When Gareth finishes, the halfling says grimly, “Mala, Ilyra – you can leave us now!” This time his wife says nothing, rising swiftly with her daughter and walking out, though she does stop at the door to glance back, a hint of worry in her eyes.</p><p></p><p>As soon as they are gone, Saidan leans forward and hisses, “You little punk!” (which would have sounded much more amusing coming from someone of his stature, in different circumstances). “You dare to accept my hospitality, sit at my table, and insult me? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”</p><p></p><p>“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” replies Gareth coldly. “And I wouldn’t have said what I did if you hadn’t kept badgering us about working for you.”</p><p></p><p>Nameless tries to intervene, saying as politely as he can, “Please forgive our friend. He has…”</p><p></p><p>“Nameless!” begins Gareth irritatedly, “There’s no need to…”</p><p></p><p>“No,” continues Saidan, the redness slowly beginning to drain from his face, but his tone not changing. “There is just one thing which needs to be said. Do you stand by your friend’s opinions? Or should I be talking to you about the offer I made?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m not saying that we agree with his sentiments,” says Nameless, “But we cannot accept this job….”</p><p></p><p>“That’s all I needed to know,” says Saidan, rising to his feet. The halflings at the other tables, who have been silently watching what has been occurring at the main table, begin to rise too, but he waves them back into their seats. “Enjoy the rest of your meal and then leave.” He glares at Gareth. “I look forward to never having to meet you again.”</p><p></p><p>Gareth replies with only a level gaze and Saidan turns away and walks out of the chamber. The Angels exchange looks and then Gareth and Nameless say, “I think we should leave now.” Six rises quickly too as they do, followed more slowly by Korm.</p><p></p><p>“Darn! This was good stuff,” says Luna, before opening a bag and shoveling a couple of platefuls of food into it. “What? I’m still hungry!”</p><p></p><p>As the Angels leave the chamber, the two guards fall in behind them, keeping a respectful distance. They are halfway to the exit when another four guards emerge from a side doorway, preceded by Halak Boromar. </p><p></p><p>He walks up to Gareth and stands in front of him, looking him up and down, like a lumberjack examining a tree before felling it. Gareth looks down at him silently. Finally, Halak says, “You think you’re bloody clever, aren’t you? Insulting my boss in his home, knowing that he won’t do <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /> to you here, since you’re invited guests.”</p><p></p><p>“I did not know that,” says Gareth coldly, “And I would have told him that anywhere. Now do you have anything important to say to me?”</p><p></p><p>Halak’s lips curl back in a snarl and a hand reaches up to the tangat on his back, but then he lowers it, a combination of bloodlust and feral cunning shining in his eyes. “Nah! I can’t touch you here today. But maybe we’ll get a chance to discuss it somewhere else.”</p><p></p><p>Gareth doesn’t reply, and after a second, Halak steps away. He heads back towards the doorway he came from, only pausing to snap to the guards, “Throw the trash out.” They do not respond in any way, keeping the same respectful distance from the group as they accompany them to the main entrance.</p><p></p><p>Once they are outside and heading quickly away, Korm lets out a deep breath. “Well – that was fun! So who can we go piss off next?”</p><p></p><p>* * * * * *</p><p>The next day, the Angels meet with Ythana Morr regarding the quest to find Jalus Baine’s remains. She suggests that they leave three days later, on the 1st of Sypheros, which is the festival of the Ascension, since it’s a holy day for the Flame. Gareth will join her in the celebration at the Cathedral in the morning, so she suggests they leave in the evening.</p><p></p><p>Ythana also introduces them to their guide, whom they’ve met before. He is Deemin, whose friend (Finch) Gareth had cured from possession, and both of whom had taken part in the attack on the first drug den with the Angels. Ythana says he has some knowledge of the Depths and can take them to the general area, adding that he’s reliable, if a little greedy. When the Angels talk to him, Deemin says that he’s been hearing a lot of talk about them at the Clifftop Adventuring Guild and looks forward to working with them. He also mentions that Finch won’t be along, because he refuses to go back into the Depths any more since the possession happened. From Ythana’s description of where she thinks Jalus was lost, they’ll be spending the better part of a day getting to the general area, and maybe more in there, depending how long searching takes. He also mentions that while he will lead them to the area and out again, he will avoid fighting if at all possible. As he says, “I’ve heard enough to know I’m not in your league. If we encounter something dangerous, I’m sure you can kill it. And if you can’t, I have no chance. Plus, if I get killed or hurt, you’ll never make it back topside.”</p><p></p><p>After they have spoken, Deemin leaves and Ythana continues telling them what she knows. She says that she has done a <em>divination</em>, asking “How can one best recover Jalus Baine’s remains and the Eternal Blade?” </p><p></p><p>The answer she received was: “Let the undying fruits of the tree of woe bloom, so that you may wither it forever.” Ythana says she can’t say precisely what that means, but with her experience of the spell, she is fairly sure that it has something to do with undead. To that end, she gives the group a dozen vials of holy water from the temple, and suggests that they prepare accordingly.</p><p></p><p>After they return home, Nameless suggests that he try a <em>contact other plane</em> to see if he can find any additional information on this tree of woe. The next day, after casting a few protective dweomers, he casts the spell. Slowly, over the course of the ten minutes of casting, his consciousness expands, until he is in temporary contact with a vast reservoir of cosmic knowledge, which appears to him as an illusory web, pulsing with light, every glowing mote on it consisting of a piece of information. </p><p></p><p>Nameless resists the accompanying near-physical pressure inside his head, which increases to almost unbearable levels, and then suddenly disappears. Then, as before, he hears a voice in his head – <em>“Ask.”</em></p><p></p><p>Nameless asks, “Is the Tree of Woe from the Archierophant’s divination a creature?” There is a moment while the web reorients itself to center on one particular mote, and then it answers, <em>“I do not know.”</em></p><p></p><p>His second question is, “Is it an undead?” The answer, this time is specific. <em>“No.”</em></p><p></p><p>“Is it an object?” The pause seems longer. <em>“Partly.”</em> </p><p></p><p>“If we are in the area of the Tree of Woe, is the Eternal Blade obvious?” <em>“Yes.”</em></p><p></p><p>“Is it guarded by a creature?” <em>“I don’t know.”</em></p><p></p><p>As the spell fades away, Nameless shakes away the ringing in his head. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I guess we do it the hard way.”</p><p></p><p>During the intervening time, the Angels make various preparations and go about different activities. Gareth spends time at the Cathedral and with Lalia. Nameless visits Trillia and works on setting up a laboratory in the house, as well as coming up with plans for all the magical protections that will be added to the house. Korm and Luna give some effort to putting together a roof garden. Six spends a fair amount of time with Fett, now a regular fixture at the Gray House, giving him a list of things to find out about, as well as working on a small but intricate sculpture depicting the Little Plains area.</p><p></p><p>On the 1st, Gareth leaves home before sunrise to travel to the Cathedral. There, he joins the Archierophant and the other priests in preparing for the day’s ceremonies. The first worshippers begin to file in shortly after sunrise, and soon hundreds are present. The festival of the Ascension officially begins two hours after sunrise, and continues for hours. Gareth, in full ceremonial regalia, plays a significant role in the proceedings, and even gives a short sermon. In keeping with his recent travails, his choice of subject is that of faith during moments of extreme hardship and uncertainty.</p><p></p><p>The various official proceedings end at noon, though the less formal celebrations will continue throughout the day, and the Archierophant introduces Gareth to the various local dignitaries who have come to attend the ceremony. There is a particularly large contingent from the Thranish embassy, including the ambassador, Lady Anador ir’Laisha. She is pleasant enough when Gareth meets her, but as he passes he does hear angry whispering, among some of her followers, about a Karrnathi taking such a prominent part in the service. Neither Ythana nor Anador show any signs of noticing, and Gareth ignores it. After the introductions are over, Ythana suggests that Gareth get some rest and then leave with his companions for the Depths.</p><p></p><p>On the way back from the Cathedral, Gareth stops at a Sivis message station to send a letter home to his family. It says:</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Coincidentally, and ironically, Six is also arranging the delivery of a message at the same time. In his case, it consists of the sculpture of Little Plains and a note, both of them addressed to Saidan Boromar. The note says: </p><p></p><p>“Although we were not able to come to an agreement, the dinner was excellent. My friend may be in opposition to certain positions of yours, but it was boorish to bring it up at the dinner table. Please accept my apologies. Six.”</p><p></p><p>By the time Gareth rejoins them, all of the others are ready to depart. He too makes his preparations and rests, until there is a knock on the door two hours later. Outside stands Deemin, with a broad grin on his face. “All ready to go? Excellent! This should be fairly educational for you. I know you’ve been in the Depths for a short time earlier, but you really need to spend a few hours there to really get a sense of them.”</p><p></p><p>* * * * * *</p><p>Five hours later, the group stands in the crumbling remains of what may have been a hall when Sharn was the Dhakaani city Ja’shaarat (“Bright Blade”) thousands of years ago. Each and every one of them is badly scorched, a couple barely remaining on their feet as they reach hurriedly for healing wands. </p><p></p><p>Nameless looks at the stone wall beside him and says, “I think it’s gone.”</p><p></p><p>“Hope so!” says Korm, beginning to heal himself, and Luna – back in her favorite bear shape – growls her agreement.</p><p></p><p>Six flexes his fingers experimentally and grimaces. “Its touch made me sluggish.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” says Gareth. “You’ll need a <em>restoration</em>, since the <em>lesser</em> variety won’t do. But I can only cast one tomorrow.” He looks across at Deemin, who is leaning against a wall with a scorched and ashen face. “So this is your idea of educational?”</p><p></p><p>Their guide smiles even through the pain and irritation of having been damaged as Six was, and says, “Well – you did say you’ve already seen a number of things you haven’t seen before.”</p><p></p><p>Six silently thinks of what they have seen…</p><p></p><p>…the giant iron door, warded with enchantments, one of the many that was designed to seal off the Depths when Sharn was rebuilt by Galifar I a thousand years ago.</p><p></p><p>…the goblinoid ruins and the ruins of earlier versions of Sharn, with only darkness and sometimes the flame of lava pools remaining where thousands had once lived.</p><p></p><p>…the sight of Nameless rising toward the sound of a slithering in the darkness above, only to be engulfed by thousands of pounds of green protoplasm as the met the arcane ooze going the other way.</p><p></p><p>…Gareth, being battered and squeezed almost to death by the ooze after Nameless managed to <em>dimension door</em> away, having Korm somehow touch and englobe him in a <em>rejuvenation cocoon</em> while he was actually still <em>inside</em> the ooze.</p><p> </p><p>…the feeling of terror as the two cow-sized rust monsters* rushed him, the sight of Gareth’s shield instantly rusting to pieces, and the humor (though it only seemed funny later) of him, Gareth and Korm turning and fleeing as fast as they could, while Luna and Nameless dealt with the creatures via spell and claw.</p><p></p><p>…the soundless appearance of the two forgewraiths, their incorporeal gray figures outlined in fire, as they emerged from the stone walls of the hall.</p><p></p><p>…the combination of <em>fireball</em> and <em>wall of fire</em> that they used to wound the adventurers, and the irritation of fighting creatures that many blows and spells simply passed through.</p><p></p><p>…the weakening sensation, as their touch drained him and Deemin of their speed and agility, while strengthening the forgewraiths.</p><p></p><p>…the momentary surprise evident on the mostly expressionless visage of one of the creatures as it hid, wounded, in a wall, only to have Nameless <em>stone shape</em> a window for them to attack it through.</p><p></p><p>…the soft inrush of air as one forgewraith finally died under their attacks, and the discovery that it left behind a black opal worth thousands of galifars.</p><p></p><p>“True,” he says, “But after all that excitement, I think you people will need to rest now.” <em>Especially so that Gareth can pray for a</em> Restoration <em>for me</em>. </p><p></p><p>Everybody agrees that they should find a safe place to hole up and prepare themselves for finally meeting the tree of woe and discovering what the cryptic divinations really meant. After some searching, they find a cavelike area with only a single entrance and settle down there, using the <em>staff of survival</em> to create a slightly more comfortable, and most importantly, significantly less detectable, shelter.</p><p></p><p></p><p>* Rust monsters are a bigger deal for warforged IMC since they do Con dmg like a <em>poison</em> spell.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="shilsen, post: 3260157, member: 198"] Here you go. An especially long instalment this time: * * * * * * That evening, following the directions in the letter, the group takes a skycoach to the Little Plains district of Middle Menthis. By their standards, the Angels are extremely well dressed, most of them having taken time out to do a little preparatory shopping. Almost none of them carry weapons openly, though Gareth is wearing his longsword, having stowed them all in the newly purchased [i]portable hole[/i] Nameless is carrying. Of them all, Nameless looks the most distinctive, not because of his garb but because of his brightly glowing blue eyes, a result of the [i]arcane sight[/i] he has cast on himself with a [i]permanency[/i]. Even as the vehicle slowly soars in for a landing, it is clear that this area has a very distinctive nature, and as they embark and head inwards, the Angels find themselves in an area unlike any other in Sharn. The population is the first change, the vast majority of it consisting of the various shorter species, predominantly halfling, with some gnomes and even a few kobolds. The skybridges are proportionately narrower, sometimes half the size of those found elsewhere in Sharn. The spatial relations between streets and towers are also different. Most of the middle and upper districts have skybridges joining large central open spaces, which connect multiple buildings that are attached to the outer sides of towers. Here, these plaza-like central areas are lacking, being replaced by a network of streets and skybridges that coil around the outside of the towers and giving access to low doorways that lead to dark, cave-like interiors. The towers themselves have been carved to resemble tents with curving sides. The effect is a district that looks like a city made of large tents, supposedly resembling the central town of Gatherhold in the Talenta Plains. The effect is heightened by the traditional Talenta clothing that many of the inhabitants wear, and even more so by the presence of dinosaurs. Dozens of them are visible, walking across the skybridges, usually bearing riders. Some of the more skilled – or daring – ones cut across the sides of buildings or sometimes even the underside of a bridge. There are also a number of flying dinosaurs, not all with riders. They flap and soar among the towers, some of which have been built with perches for them to rest on. The Boromar estate is easily the largest of the buildings in Little Plains, and draws one’s gaze because it is not just central but also close to two other buildings that are among the largest. One looks like a council hall for the district, while the other is a temple of Boldrei. Reaching the estate, the Angels find themselves accosted by four halfling guards, two on dinosaurs. After checking their invitation letter, one leads the group through the main entrance, where they are met by a plump, matronly halfling, who greets them and says they are expected. She leads them down a hall to a comfortable sitting room, with furnishings designed for people of the Angels’ size, as well as for smaller people. As they walk through the hall, the adventurers notice that most of the exits they pass have been built (or rebuilt) for shorter people, which would make passage (and attacks) by human sized or larger creatures very difficult. Seeing them, Nameless grins and casts an [i]alter self[/i], taking the form of a halfling. The matron doesn’t even twitch a hair as he does so, just as she did not even glance at his glowing eyes, which he now veils through the new spell. She simply asks them to be seated and to enjoy the refreshments, saying that their host will be with them shortly. As she leaves, the Angels quietly begin to talk among themselves. “I’m not seeing signs of any other guests,” says Luna, while reaching for a bowl of dried nuts on the table. “Maybe we’re the only ones?” hazards Korm. Gareth frowns slightly. “Then it’s unlikely that this is just a social invitation.” Six looks at him and sadly shakes his head, while Nameless says, “Let’s see now … probably most famous adventurers in Sharn … have some notoriety for destroying,” he catches a look from Luna and amends, “…um, attacking Daask drug dens … no, I don’t think they called us just because they want to welcome us to the neighborhood.” “Well,” says Gareth, “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I am a little curious to see what they want and how they expect to get it.” “Speaking of seeing,” says Nameless, “If you even [i]think[/i] of trying to [i]detect thoughts[/i] on the head of the Boromars, or anyone else in here, I will [i]disintegrate[/i] your ass. You almost got us killed by Daask trying that dumb stunt.” Gareth scowls, but then mutters, “I wasn’t about to try that. Don’t worry. I’m not…” The conclusion to the sentence, and the inevitable rejoinder from one or more of his companions, is interrupted by the entrance of a pair of halfling guards through another doorway. They stop as they enter and step to the side, to allow the entrance of a group of three halflings and a gnome. In the lead is a middle-aged man, his hair (worn openly, without the traditional Talenta topknot) streaked with gray. Beside him walks a plump woman of roughly the same age, the tip of a dragonmark emerging from her long-sleeved blouse. Behind them walks a younger woman, whom the Angels recognize as Ilyra Boromar, the city councilor. And behind her is the gnome, a man who seems about the same age as or slightly older than the leader. All of the halflings are dressed in simple but very well-made darkweave clothing, while the gnome wears more ordinary garb, like that of a well-to-do clerk. “Greetings to my home,” says the male halfling, as he walks up and extends a hand. The Angels notice that he is almost completely silent as he walks, only the preternaturally fine hearing of Luna, Korm and Six picking up a whisper of sound from his footfalls. “I am Saidan Boromar,” he says, shaking hands. “This is my wife, Mala, and here is my daughter, Ilyra, who some of you may know as the councilor from Lower Dura.” The two women smile and greet the Angels, while Saidan turns to the gnome. “This is my accountant, Castar. He will be joining us for dinner. Please, sit down.” As the Angels resume their seats, the others join them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” continues Saidan. “I have been reading and hearing about the Guardian Angels for so long that I thought I should meet you for myself.” He asks them how they are doing and begins to make general chit-chat, with Ilyra and Mala joining in. Castar, who is seated a little further away, simply sits silently and watches the group, saying nothing at all. The conversation is pleasant but slightly strained, since the Angels are mostly just wondering what the real reason for the invitation is and when they will find out, as well as somewhat discomfited by the presence Castar, watching and studying them silently. After about fifteen minutes, they are interrupted by the entrance of another halfling. This one is disproportionately, almost comically muscular, his biceps straining the material of the hunting jacket he wears. A very functional-looking Talenta tangat is strapped to his back. As he enters, Saidan waves him over. When he comes over, Saidan introduces him as Halak Boromar, his “security chief.” Saidan adds, “You know crime in the city; you can never be too careful.” Turning to Halak, he asks, “Is the problem taken care of?” and Halak replies simply, “Yes.” Saidan says, “Good. I will speak with you after dinner.” Halak goes to the doorway, and then stops, turns and looks at the Angels. The expression on his face is much like that of a housewife at the market, sizing up cuts of meat. After a couple of seconds, Saidan notices and turns to look at him. He frowns slightly and Halak turns and leaves. Saidan turns back to the group and says, “Halak’s fairly new to Sharn from the Plains, so his manners are a trifle lacking, but he’s a good worker.” He is about to continue, when his wife’s expression catches his eye. “I believe dinner has been served,” he says quickly. “We can talk more during it. Please, follow me.” The Boromars rise and lead the group out through another door and down a short corridor to a large chamber. Entering, they find that the room contains a number of long tables, a couple of which are already occupied by numerous halflings. They greet Saidan but do not rise, and he waves at them before leading the group to the main table, which has been set for nine people. As they seat themselves, he says, “Mealtime is a very communal thing for our people. We try to keep the old customs alive here, you know.” The Angels notice that the halflings at the other table have all their food served in large bowls or dishes that they all serve themselves and, and in some cases, eat from. The food at the main table, where they sit, is more traditional to Sharn, however. As Six is resigning himself to another hour spent watching people eat, a server places a plate in front of him and removes the cover to reveal what look like three metal biscuits, each about two inches long and an inch wide. They seem to have some metal filings on them. Saidan smiles and says, “I know warforged do not eat, so I thought I’d get you something you might not have tried. Do you know the Red Hammer Inn?” “No, though the name sounds vaguely familiar.” “It’s a place down in the Blackbones Cogs, run by and catering specifically to warforged. One of the people there has been experimenting with things that the warforged can taste. Supposedly these are appetizing for your species. You’re supposed to put them in your mouth but not swallow, I believe. Go ahead and try.” A little skeptically, Six complies, to discover that the metal has been treated with various chemicals so as to react with the metal of his mouth and give off certain flavors that are particularly palpable to a warforged. With his normally very limited sense of taste, it is a very interesting experience. While Six is trying the ‘biscuits’ and the others are digging into the quite delicious dinner, the Boromars continue to make small talk with the Angels. After a few minutes, Saidan says, “I heard that you had attacked a Daask drug den recently. And I think I remember something similar a few months ago, which was the first time I heard of you. Are you particularly opposed to Daask?” In view of their knowledge of the Daask-Boromar equation, none of the Angels are surprised at the question. Some are amused, however, as they note Mala giving her husband the typical look of a wife whose husband insists on talking of work at dinner. “No,” replies Nameless. “We just wanted to get some exercise and try out some new toys we have.” “I see,” continues Saidan. “The reason I ask is that Daask has been causing trouble for some of my businesses…” “What kind of businesses?” interrupts Gareth, sounding slightly more suspicious than he intended to. Saidan frowns at the interruption and the tone. Mala quickly puts a hand on his arm and he smiles at her and then replies to Gareth. “Warehouses, for example. I have money in many of the warehouses servicing the docks. Some of my tenants have also been beaten up and robbed. I’m sure you’ve heard similar stories too.” He leans forward, ignoring his food, and continues. “In view of your evident expertise and power, I was interested in hiring you to help teach Daask a lesson. Eradicating them from Sharn might be beyond even your abilities, but you could definitely hurt them significantly, and that might be enough for others, like the city Watch, to complete the job. What do you say?” Nameless says quickly, “Unfortunately, we are busy with other engagements for the next six months.” Gareth replies simultaneously, “We cannot accept the job, since we will be leaving the city soon.” Saidan looks back and forth between the two and then addresses Nameless. “You say you’ll be busy here for six months, but he says you’re leaving Sharn. Which is it?” “Both,” says Gareth. “We will be going on a quest shortly which will take us away from the city. And we cannot work for you.” “Really? Why not, if I may ask?” Gareth hesitates for a moment and then says, “You might want your daughter, the city councilor, to not hear this.” Ilyra, who has been eating quietly and listening to the exchange, looks surprised. “I believe that anything you can say to my father you can say to me.” Saidan nods and says, “Yes. Go ahead. It seems you have something you’ve been waiting to tell me.” “All right,” says Gareth curtly. “We will not work for you because you are just as dirty as Daask. Everybody knows that you are criminals, the only difference with Daask being that you have a political and a social face, which they do not. So in that sense, they are even more honest than you. I would not work for you under any circumstances.” As Gareth is speaking, Saidan’s face turns beetroot red. When Gareth finishes, the halfling says grimly, “Mala, Ilyra – you can leave us now!” This time his wife says nothing, rising swiftly with her daughter and walking out, though she does stop at the door to glance back, a hint of worry in her eyes. As soon as they are gone, Saidan leans forward and hisses, “You little punk!” (which would have sounded much more amusing coming from someone of his stature, in different circumstances). “You dare to accept my hospitality, sit at my table, and insult me? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” “I know exactly who I’m talking to,” replies Gareth coldly. “And I wouldn’t have said what I did if you hadn’t kept badgering us about working for you.” Nameless tries to intervene, saying as politely as he can, “Please forgive our friend. He has…” “Nameless!” begins Gareth irritatedly, “There’s no need to…” “No,” continues Saidan, the redness slowly beginning to drain from his face, but his tone not changing. “There is just one thing which needs to be said. Do you stand by your friend’s opinions? Or should I be talking to you about the offer I made?” “I’m not saying that we agree with his sentiments,” says Nameless, “But we cannot accept this job….” “That’s all I needed to know,” says Saidan, rising to his feet. The halflings at the other tables, who have been silently watching what has been occurring at the main table, begin to rise too, but he waves them back into their seats. “Enjoy the rest of your meal and then leave.” He glares at Gareth. “I look forward to never having to meet you again.” Gareth replies with only a level gaze and Saidan turns away and walks out of the chamber. The Angels exchange looks and then Gareth and Nameless say, “I think we should leave now.” Six rises quickly too as they do, followed more slowly by Korm. “Darn! This was good stuff,” says Luna, before opening a bag and shoveling a couple of platefuls of food into it. “What? I’m still hungry!” As the Angels leave the chamber, the two guards fall in behind them, keeping a respectful distance. They are halfway to the exit when another four guards emerge from a side doorway, preceded by Halak Boromar. He walks up to Gareth and stands in front of him, looking him up and down, like a lumberjack examining a tree before felling it. Gareth looks down at him silently. Finally, Halak says, “You think you’re bloody clever, aren’t you? Insulting my boss in his home, knowing that he won’t do :):):):) to you here, since you’re invited guests.” “I did not know that,” says Gareth coldly, “And I would have told him that anywhere. Now do you have anything important to say to me?” Halak’s lips curl back in a snarl and a hand reaches up to the tangat on his back, but then he lowers it, a combination of bloodlust and feral cunning shining in his eyes. “Nah! I can’t touch you here today. But maybe we’ll get a chance to discuss it somewhere else.” Gareth doesn’t reply, and after a second, Halak steps away. He heads back towards the doorway he came from, only pausing to snap to the guards, “Throw the trash out.” They do not respond in any way, keeping the same respectful distance from the group as they accompany them to the main entrance. Once they are outside and heading quickly away, Korm lets out a deep breath. “Well – that was fun! So who can we go piss off next?” * * * * * * The next day, the Angels meet with Ythana Morr regarding the quest to find Jalus Baine’s remains. She suggests that they leave three days later, on the 1st of Sypheros, which is the festival of the Ascension, since it’s a holy day for the Flame. Gareth will join her in the celebration at the Cathedral in the morning, so she suggests they leave in the evening. Ythana also introduces them to their guide, whom they’ve met before. He is Deemin, whose friend (Finch) Gareth had cured from possession, and both of whom had taken part in the attack on the first drug den with the Angels. Ythana says he has some knowledge of the Depths and can take them to the general area, adding that he’s reliable, if a little greedy. When the Angels talk to him, Deemin says that he’s been hearing a lot of talk about them at the Clifftop Adventuring Guild and looks forward to working with them. He also mentions that Finch won’t be along, because he refuses to go back into the Depths any more since the possession happened. From Ythana’s description of where she thinks Jalus was lost, they’ll be spending the better part of a day getting to the general area, and maybe more in there, depending how long searching takes. He also mentions that while he will lead them to the area and out again, he will avoid fighting if at all possible. As he says, “I’ve heard enough to know I’m not in your league. If we encounter something dangerous, I’m sure you can kill it. And if you can’t, I have no chance. Plus, if I get killed or hurt, you’ll never make it back topside.” After they have spoken, Deemin leaves and Ythana continues telling them what she knows. She says that she has done a [i]divination[/i], asking “How can one best recover Jalus Baine’s remains and the Eternal Blade?” The answer she received was: “Let the undying fruits of the tree of woe bloom, so that you may wither it forever.” Ythana says she can’t say precisely what that means, but with her experience of the spell, she is fairly sure that it has something to do with undead. To that end, she gives the group a dozen vials of holy water from the temple, and suggests that they prepare accordingly. After they return home, Nameless suggests that he try a [i]contact other plane[/i] to see if he can find any additional information on this tree of woe. The next day, after casting a few protective dweomers, he casts the spell. Slowly, over the course of the ten minutes of casting, his consciousness expands, until he is in temporary contact with a vast reservoir of cosmic knowledge, which appears to him as an illusory web, pulsing with light, every glowing mote on it consisting of a piece of information. Nameless resists the accompanying near-physical pressure inside his head, which increases to almost unbearable levels, and then suddenly disappears. Then, as before, he hears a voice in his head – [i]“Ask.”[/i] Nameless asks, “Is the Tree of Woe from the Archierophant’s divination a creature?” There is a moment while the web reorients itself to center on one particular mote, and then it answers, [i]“I do not know.”[/i] His second question is, “Is it an undead?” The answer, this time is specific. [i]“No.”[/i] “Is it an object?” The pause seems longer. [i]“Partly.”[/i] “If we are in the area of the Tree of Woe, is the Eternal Blade obvious?” [i]“Yes.”[/i] “Is it guarded by a creature?” [i]“I don’t know.”[/i] As the spell fades away, Nameless shakes away the ringing in his head. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I guess we do it the hard way.” During the intervening time, the Angels make various preparations and go about different activities. Gareth spends time at the Cathedral and with Lalia. Nameless visits Trillia and works on setting up a laboratory in the house, as well as coming up with plans for all the magical protections that will be added to the house. Korm and Luna give some effort to putting together a roof garden. Six spends a fair amount of time with Fett, now a regular fixture at the Gray House, giving him a list of things to find out about, as well as working on a small but intricate sculpture depicting the Little Plains area. On the 1st, Gareth leaves home before sunrise to travel to the Cathedral. There, he joins the Archierophant and the other priests in preparing for the day’s ceremonies. The first worshippers begin to file in shortly after sunrise, and soon hundreds are present. The festival of the Ascension officially begins two hours after sunrise, and continues for hours. Gareth, in full ceremonial regalia, plays a significant role in the proceedings, and even gives a short sermon. In keeping with his recent travails, his choice of subject is that of faith during moments of extreme hardship and uncertainty. The various official proceedings end at noon, though the less formal celebrations will continue throughout the day, and the Archierophant introduces Gareth to the various local dignitaries who have come to attend the ceremony. There is a particularly large contingent from the Thranish embassy, including the ambassador, Lady Anador ir’Laisha. She is pleasant enough when Gareth meets her, but as he passes he does hear angry whispering, among some of her followers, about a Karrnathi taking such a prominent part in the service. Neither Ythana nor Anador show any signs of noticing, and Gareth ignores it. After the introductions are over, Ythana suggests that Gareth get some rest and then leave with his companions for the Depths. On the way back from the Cathedral, Gareth stops at a Sivis message station to send a letter home to his family. It says: Coincidentally, and ironically, Six is also arranging the delivery of a message at the same time. In his case, it consists of the sculpture of Little Plains and a note, both of them addressed to Saidan Boromar. The note says: “Although we were not able to come to an agreement, the dinner was excellent. My friend may be in opposition to certain positions of yours, but it was boorish to bring it up at the dinner table. Please accept my apologies. Six.” By the time Gareth rejoins them, all of the others are ready to depart. He too makes his preparations and rests, until there is a knock on the door two hours later. Outside stands Deemin, with a broad grin on his face. “All ready to go? Excellent! This should be fairly educational for you. I know you’ve been in the Depths for a short time earlier, but you really need to spend a few hours there to really get a sense of them.” * * * * * * Five hours later, the group stands in the crumbling remains of what may have been a hall when Sharn was the Dhakaani city Ja’shaarat (“Bright Blade”) thousands of years ago. Each and every one of them is badly scorched, a couple barely remaining on their feet as they reach hurriedly for healing wands. Nameless looks at the stone wall beside him and says, “I think it’s gone.” “Hope so!” says Korm, beginning to heal himself, and Luna – back in her favorite bear shape – growls her agreement. Six flexes his fingers experimentally and grimaces. “Its touch made me sluggish.” “Yes,” says Gareth. “You’ll need a [i]restoration[/i], since the [i]lesser[/i] variety won’t do. But I can only cast one tomorrow.” He looks across at Deemin, who is leaning against a wall with a scorched and ashen face. “So this is your idea of educational?” Their guide smiles even through the pain and irritation of having been damaged as Six was, and says, “Well – you did say you’ve already seen a number of things you haven’t seen before.” Six silently thinks of what they have seen… …the giant iron door, warded with enchantments, one of the many that was designed to seal off the Depths when Sharn was rebuilt by Galifar I a thousand years ago. …the goblinoid ruins and the ruins of earlier versions of Sharn, with only darkness and sometimes the flame of lava pools remaining where thousands had once lived. …the sight of Nameless rising toward the sound of a slithering in the darkness above, only to be engulfed by thousands of pounds of green protoplasm as the met the arcane ooze going the other way. …Gareth, being battered and squeezed almost to death by the ooze after Nameless managed to [i]dimension door[/i] away, having Korm somehow touch and englobe him in a [i]rejuvenation cocoon[/i] while he was actually still [i]inside[/i] the ooze. …the feeling of terror as the two cow-sized rust monsters* rushed him, the sight of Gareth’s shield instantly rusting to pieces, and the humor (though it only seemed funny later) of him, Gareth and Korm turning and fleeing as fast as they could, while Luna and Nameless dealt with the creatures via spell and claw. …the soundless appearance of the two forgewraiths, their incorporeal gray figures outlined in fire, as they emerged from the stone walls of the hall. …the combination of [i]fireball[/i] and [i]wall of fire[/i] that they used to wound the adventurers, and the irritation of fighting creatures that many blows and spells simply passed through. …the weakening sensation, as their touch drained him and Deemin of their speed and agility, while strengthening the forgewraiths. …the momentary surprise evident on the mostly expressionless visage of one of the creatures as it hid, wounded, in a wall, only to have Nameless [i]stone shape[/i] a window for them to attack it through. …the soft inrush of air as one forgewraith finally died under their attacks, and the discovery that it left behind a black opal worth thousands of galifars. “True,” he says, “But after all that excitement, I think you people will need to rest now.” [i]Especially so that Gareth can pray for a[/i] Restoration [i]for me[/i]. Everybody agrees that they should find a safe place to hole up and prepare themselves for finally meeting the tree of woe and discovering what the cryptic divinations really meant. After some searching, they find a cavelike area with only a single entrance and settle down there, using the [i]staff of survival[/i] to create a slightly more comfortable, and most importantly, significantly less detectable, shelter. * Rust monsters are a bigger deal for warforged IMC since they do Con dmg like a [i]poison[/i] spell. [/QUOTE]
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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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