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Crossroads Synopsis
Chapter One
“Why are we waiting?” Ashe
“It is a crossroads.” Tor
Ashe and Tor are changelings. Ashe is a hot-headed young fighter who left home because changelings are not welcome. Tor is a cleric of the Traveler who agreed to be a mentor and guide to Ashe. Both wear the appearance of Brelanders, though they are currently in Thrane.
As they wait, a group of Cyran refugees comes along; one man, four women and a warforged. They have been traveling the Mournland border, hoping to find a clue of what happened to their son. They reluctantly agree to let Ashe and Tor travel with them.
Chapter Two
“I was supposed to go to The Twelve before, it, happened” Emma d’Cannith
As they travel south from Arythawn Keep, Tor becomes better acquainted with the refugees. They are poor cousins of the Cannith family. Emma d’Cannith, the youngest is the only one with family talent for tinkering. Ashe is attracted to Emma’s cousin Helena. They are heading to Vathirond where they have heard a Finder from House Tharashk is helping refugees recover family members.
Chapter Three
“Some fool heir of Orien is going to try to cross the Mournland by train.” Tom Farmer
After crossing the Brey River into Breland, the characters meet up with a farmer whose wagon has a broken wheel. The farmer is in a rush to get his apples to Vathirond. House Orien is paying top price for goods they can sell in Karrnath. Emma can fix the wheel, but it will take a day. Emma’s mother Mara sells apple tarts to people who stop to watch.
Chapter Four
“The warforged will take night watch.” Stewart d’Cannith
Tor learns more about Emma’s father, Stewart d’Cannith from the warforged, Leaver. A living sleep spell comes out of the dead-gray mists and attacks the group. Mara is seriously injured.
Chapter Five
“The price is that she never stops searching for her son till she discovers his fate.” Tor
Stewart d’Cannith is reluctant to let a cleric of the Traveler heal his wife Mara. The farmer lets her ride to Vathirond in the repaired wagon.
Chapter Six
“You can believe I know a fake when I see one.” Stewart d’Cannith
The orc claiming to be a Finder in Vathirond is a fraud. When the orc hears they are on to his trick he decides to silence them. A shady friend of Tor’s takes them to a safe place to hide.
Chapter Seven
“Hello, I’m with Korranberg Chronicle.” Berdig d’Sivis
Berdig d’Sivis, a gnome reporter is hiding at a safe-house in the east end slums. He needs to get to the Sivis outpost on the west side of town to turn in his exposé on the fake Finder.
Chapter Eight
“If we can catch that train, those thugs won’t dare follow us.” Ashe
The group, including the gnome, tries to make a run for the Sivis outpost. The orc’s henchmen block the way west. The characters flee south and end up seeking shelter on a lightning rail, heading east.
Chapter Nine
Into the Mournland
The central characters have a “passengers view” of the train ride. This was done so the situation could be developed as an adventure, without revealing all the clues. More details in writing sample.
Chapter Ten
“Why isn’t the train moving?” Emma d’Cannith
The passengers discover that getting out of the Mournland is tougher than getting into them. The train is first attacked by a group of warforged and then by the ghostbeasts of Metrol.
Chapter Eleven
“It would be nice to see Gatherhold again.” Mara Cook
There were eight carriages when the train left Breland. Only one passenger carriage and the engine cross the Cyre River to safety. Berdig offers to help the family find their son, after he turns in his story. The nearest Sivis outpost is in the city of Gatherhold on Lake Cyre. Some halflings agree to ferry them there.
Chapter Twelve
“May I see your true self?” Helena Maid
“You do not know what you ask.” Tor
Ashe informs Tor that he is leaving to join the Blademarks. Helen approaches Tor to talk some more. Stewart d’Cannith interrupts with accusations. Ashe comes back to inform them that their son is at the Blademarks' guildhall. Everyone but Tor rushes off to see him.
Epilogue
“I have been talking with Helena. Will you guide my daughter’s path?” Mara Cook
Tor is planning on leaving without saying goodbye. Emma catches up with him and asks if she can go with him. [/sblock]
And here is the 10 pages
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Chapter 9 Into the Mournland
“It is like riding through a storm inside a tunnel. No, that doesn’t work. Thick clouds obscure the landscape. The occasional flashes of light distort more than they reveal.”
Tor half-listens to the gnome reporter, Berdig d’Sivis work on his account of their adventures, out loud. Berdig has changed out of the grubby nondescript clothes he was wearing when Tor met him. Now he has on a dapper blue outfit, and is wearing his signet ring openly. They are sitting in the dining carriage of the lightning rail. It has been over three hours since they entered the dead-gray mists of the Mournland.
“Rumbles shake the entire train. The whistle sounds like the train itself is wailing. What do you think?” the gnome asks.
“I think I am looking out the wrong window.” Outside everything is a dull gray; the sky, the soil, the grass. It is like the color was leached out of everything. The worn wood of the train is vibrant in comparison.
“A bit of artistic license, it probably does look like that sometimes.” The reporter says defensively. “So what is your friend’s story?” He asks, nodding toward Mara Cook.
Mara is speaking with the head porter who is also in charge of the dining carriage. She is a short, stout woman, but she has quiet air of authority beyond her size. She and the porter are drinking Talenta mint tea, and trading recipes.
“I usually try not to tell other people’s stories, however I am sure Mrs. Cook will not mind. She and her family are searching for her son, who was a member of Cyre’s military. They have not heard of him since before the ‘day of mourning’.”
“Her family is lucky to still have each other. How did they survive?” Berdig inquires.
“They lived at a Cannith Estate on the Brey River, south of Eston. Emma, her daughter was accepted to study at The Twelve. They were heading for Vathirond to put her on the lightning rail to Karrnath. They got across the border before the dead-gray mists caught up with them.”
“So what is your angle?” The gnome probes.
“Angle, I am not sure what you mean.”
“Of course you do. I recognize that you are a priest of the Traveler. Who is paying ‘The Price’ for your god’s assistance? ”
“As an educated gnome you should already know what the legends say. According to those legends, the string attached to ‘The Travelers Gift’ is to never return home. Look out that window, really look this time. That was their home. If there was a price to pay, then they have already paid it. Please excuse me?” Tor gets up and leaves the dining car.
It tries Tor’s patience, the mistrust he often faces. As if it were the Traveler’s fault that nothing in Eberron is ever free. The world exacts a cost for everything we take. If a House Jorasco healer asks to be paid, no one calls them a follower of a dark god. Yet any act of charity by a cleric of the Traveler is questioned.
As he walks along the narrow corridor Tor feels there is something different about the sway of the train. He has been a passenger on the lightning rail many times, but never with so few people aboard. They are riding an almost empty train through an almost empty land. He wonders if even the air elemental bound to the train feels the isolation.
He knows that Mara’s husband, Stewart d’Cannith and her sister, Madeline Maid is each sleeping in their compartment. Emma d’Cannith, Mara’s daughter is spending time with the assistant engineer, asking a lot of questions. Tor does not remember when he last saw Helena Maid, Madeline’s daughter. She cannot have wandered far. Leaver is in the baggage car; even Berdig’s clever talking could not get the crew to treat a warforged as a passenger. Tor thinks maybe he should go talk to Leaver. The warforged understands what it is like to deal with other people’s preconceptions.
Aaron the assistant engineer and Emma enter at the other end of the passageway. Aaron holds the door for her, and then continues their discussion. “The conductor stones, which generate the rail we ride, have been in remarkably good condition so far this trip. Sure, we’ve had a few bumps where one was missing, but I’ve been on well traveled routes in worse condition. It is very strange.”
“I’m sure there is a logical explanation,” Emma responds. “What happens if we do come to a stretch of missing stones?”
“Chief Engineer d’Orien says he has a magic device to take care of that problem, as long as it doesn’t happen too often. I can’t tell you any more about it.”
Emma pouts at his last words.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, or that I don’t trust you. I’ve seen your identification papers. You are a member of House Cannith, so of course I can trust you. The reason I cannot say how it works is that I don’t know. The chief engineer won’t even tell me,” admits Aaron.
“How many miles have we crossed so far?” She asks.
“About a hundred miles,” answers Aaron.
“How many are left to go?”
“At least five hundred more till we cross the Cyre River.”
Tor steps aside for them to pass.
“Thank you sir,” says the crewman.
Emma smiles at Tor as she walks by, and then follows the young man into the dinning carriage. Clearly those two have found a way to cope with the loneliness. It is obvious that the assistant engineer is quite taken with the freckle-faced girl. By the end of this trip she will know more about the lighting rail than he does. That is, if this train ride does not come to an abrupt end.
It was over two years ago that the dead-gray mists spread across Cyre. The cause of the disaster is still a mystery. The only thing known is that nothing natural can survive here very long. One thing which is thriving in this forsaken land is the Lord of Blades, the self styled King of the Warforged. If he has heard that this train is crossing the lands he claims, more than just the chief engineer’s magic device will be needed.
Tor turns to the compartment he shares with Ashe, his protégé. He tries the knob and finds the door locked. He considers knocking, but decides to go to the head porter and ask him to unlock the door.
Back in the dining carriage, Emma and Aaron are sitting down to some mushroom soup. Berdig has started a card game at the back of the carriage with three of the Blademarks hired to protect the train. None of the porters have joined the game. There is clearly some tension between the Karrnathi mercenaries and the Aundairian train crew. Tor is tempted to play in the game. He is sure he would give the Berdig a run for his money. He comes to the decision that it would be best to not completely alienate the reporter.
The head porter is behind the lunch counter. Tor explains that Ashe is probably asleep and that he does not want to wake him just to open the door. He follows Tor back to the locked compartment.
As the porter unlocks the door a crewman arrives with an urgent problem, but does not say what it is. He insists the head porter see for himself. Tor thanks the man for his help before he hurries off. He opens the door quietly and is not surprised by what he discovers. The shade on the everbright lantern has been lowered, making the small room dim. Helena and Ashe are sitting on the bed, becoming more intimately acquainted.
“Excuse me,” Tor announces his presence.
Helena is startled and tries to stand up. Ashe however keeps a firm hold on her, so she cannot move away. After a moment she realizes it is too late to look innocent. Though the light in the room is weak, she is clearly blushing.
Ashe keeps his expression impassive. He tries to look twenty two, but Tor knows he is only seventeen. Helena is not the first woman to find his swarthy, southern Brelish features attractive, including what looks like a dueling scar on his chin.
“I am very disappointed with you Ashe.”
“What difference does it make?” the young fighter retorts. He may have learned to control his face, but the anger is clear in his voice.
Tor glares at him, “Have you told her the truth? Have you shown her what you are really like?”
“It’s none of your business”
Tor is unfazed, “Have you considered what might come of this? Did you plan on behaving like your father?”
“You go too far.” Ashe stands up. He is toe-to-toe with Tor, and then he shoves his way past. He makes sure to slam the thin the door behind him.
After a few moments of awkward silence Helena asks, “What did you mean when you asked if he told me the truth.”
Tor reflects for a moment, “With the way he has acted, you deserve to know. Ashe and I are changelings.”
Helena’s blush vanishes in shock, “Boldrei keep me! Now that I know that you are shapechangers, are you going to kill me to keep it a secret?”
Tor grins, “No, I am not going to kill you. When we part company Ashe and I will simply change our appearance to maintain our privacy.”
“Are you both from the same family?”
“We are not blood relations, if that is what you mean. He is my protégé. Like most changelings, he grew up without knowing his father.”
“There are very few places where a young changeling is welcome. The name he uses ‘Ashe’, is not what his mother named him. Before a changeling learns to alter their appearance, their skin is pallid and burns easily. Ashe is the name the other children used to taunt him.”
“Once he was old enough to leave, his mother brought him to the nearest crossroads. She brought him each day, for a couple of days, until I happened along. She asked me to take him away. I told her that I could not do that. I then asked her if she would like me to guide him on his path. She agreed. I then asked Ashe if he would accept me as his mentor. He agreed.”
“So he is your apprentice?” she asks.
“No he is not. A mentor is not a master. He is my protégé. The difference is that he chooses his own path; I am simply here to guide him. One of the roles of a mentor, as I see it, is to end the cycles of abandoning.”
Tor waits for Helena to say something in response. She has stopped looking at him. Her long dark hair hides her eyes, and the awkward silence has returned. Finally Tor says, “I am sure you have a lot to consider. You can stay here, I will leave. Good Evening.”
Tor leaves his own compartment. He finds Stewart d’Cannith standing in the passageway. The unhappy expression on the older man’s face is the same one he has worn all week. Tor wonders how long it has been since Stewart d’Cannith last smiled. Judging from the lines on his face it could easily be years.
“Is it not enough that your hood of a friend got us trapped on the wrong side of Vathirond?” Stewart d’Cannith rants. “We are now on a doomed train through the Mournland. On top of that, you have to disturb the few peaceful moments I have to rest, by having an argument with your companion. We’ve had nothing but trouble since we met you at the crossroads. I’m starting to think we would be better off to leave the train and walk back to Breland. I’m sure what ever trouble is out there will follow you.”
“I am sorry to have disturbed your rest,” Tor apologizes.
Stewart d’Cannith goes back into compartment adjacent Tor’s without saying another word.
Ashe returns with a stunned expression on his face. “I just overheard the two of the Blademarks talking. The rear carriage of the train is gone.”[/sblock]
I'm actually suprised. Looking at it 6 moths later, I don't hate it. Any feedback is appreciated.
