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The woman walks away from the floating fortress dedicated to magic. Her stride is steady, confident and willful. She smirks as she feels the energy build then release. Alarms begin to whine. “So it begins my love.”

Short life manifest zones appear and rip into the strongest non-dragon magically defended structure on Eberron. Reality itself comes into question. Then new portals open. Strange looking gaunt people step out of these portals. Powers of their minds lash out at the defenders flying out of Arcanis like bees from a struck hive.

One mage grabs her chest. Her heart has stopped beating.

Another mage grabs her throat. No air comes or goes from her chest.


Reality is being reshaped by the power of powerful mental abilities of alien psions with dark tanned skins.

Using psionic energies, these aliens attack and invade the floating pyramid. Explosions and bursts of raw magical and psionic energy rock the floating fortress.

Below, watching the show of incredible power, is a woman lacking eye brows and whites of her eyes. She looks up to watch. Mistress Muy Monstrous watches. The aliens rush out with armfuls of magical items. Once out they look down at the Mistress of Mutation.

“Thankyou for the artifacts of magic. Mistress Kalid-Ma also thanks you.”

Frowning, Monstrous looks up. “We had a deal. Face of the False-Moon and your Sorcerer King. Have a deal.”

“No deal-“ and the psions close their portals.

Monstrous smiles. “Our magic and yours will not mix well.”

VULT 12, 1001

A large wagon rolls along the fields of northern Breland. A noble and noblewoman dressed in red ride within one of these wagons.

“Looks like rain.” The woman states as she holds up her small umbrella.

“Yes. Yes it does my love.” Follows the man.

“is this the exact point? Is this where they left our world?”


“The moons are nearly lined up. Are you ready my love?”


Six minutes later….. the clouds in the sky swirl and move quickly. First darkness then a dark umbra color appears within the swirling clouds. A rift opens up and what seems like a black hand reaches out and drops a handful of treasure. Everything stolen from Arcanix months go.

“Remember- leave everything but the book.”

“And with the book?”

“I can think of several persons to give the book to create great chaos in the world. Great beautiful Chaos.”

09 / 29 / 18


A very large warforged looks out over the City of Towers. It is cloudy and damp. It has been raining most of the afternoon. The summer rains have returned. C-667 doesn’t feel the rain on his adamantine shell. He is aware of it just the same. It is the life of a living construct. Dorque is the name he was given by the young Cannith artificer named Zinter (see John Play SH). He can not understand why.

Xargrolst, a bounty hunter from the mountains of northern Zilargo, pats the shoulders of his animal companion and best friend- a dire Weasel. The kobold is watchful of the space his new friend takes up. He met the warforged and cleric higher up the tower earlier this damp day. A rain burst forced them to take cover in the entrance of a merchant tower. Dorque was already here staring and watching people coming in and out of the tower. When the cleric asked him a question, Dorque answered. Instead of being mocked, the cleric thanked him. For this, the warforged has decided to stay with them for now.

Tabask has come to the City of Shadows in hopes of finding either a job or at least purpose in life. Instead he has found rain. He took cover from a downpour in a small roofed entrance to a merchant area. He asked the dim witted warforged where he came from. He answered Cyre- the cleric liked this answer. Feeling a kinship to the warforged, he laughed and offered friendship.

Now, late in the evening, between storms, the three climb higher up the tower. The cleric suggested the view would be better if they ascended above the clouds. As they climbed Tabask asked if the others could hear a sound. The kobold answers no and the warforged listens and listens- turning and twisting his head. Flapping. Clearly it is flapping. The outside stairs exit from under a Bridgeway and they climb up to see.

A dire bat is flying as quickly as it can with limited swaying maneuvers as if trying to avoid or throw off something. Looking closer as the large flies close to the building and over a bridge, the cleric spots a small goblin riding it. It looks back as if being chased, It is.

Seven figures holding cross-bows ride individualized sized sky sleds. One figure appears to be the leader as the figure is robed and calls out holding something in its hand. A Cleric! If he could growl, Dorque would. He does not like what he sees- Emerald Claw! Several bolts strike the bat and rider forcing it to come down hard on an open courtyard to a tower on the other side of the bridge. The goblin rides the skidding dire animal and hops off using it as cover.

“Emerald Claw are bad.” States the warforged as he tries to hurry up the stairway and across the open bridge.

“Wartime Terrorists. I thought they were all dead or disbanded.” Adds Tabask as he pulls out his holy symbol- a dark metal blazing sun encased within a rectangle. This symbol was given to him by his human father on his deathbed. A double-bladed scimitar made of pure energy appears behind the hooded leader.

The kobold and his animal friend (Sarfuold) follow behind him. He watches as the Emerald Claw members create a semi-circle around the downed bat and goblin. More bolts strike the goblin driving him to the gravel. With a shaky hand, the goblin holds up his own symbol- a black burned wooden image of the Shadow. Even as Xar pegs a bolt into the nearest Claw member, the goblin disappears….then his bat….then two separate soldiers of the claw. Gone.

Waving his magical Great Sword over his head, Dorque rushes up to the leader and strikes him down even as a magical flail appears….and disappears. The Claw members on sky sleds begin to move away quickly after a female member takes command with the death of the robed leader.

One of the disappeared soldiers reappears as he rises straight up. Tabask castes Fly onto himself and charges this man. He leans forward and holds onto the edge of the skysled as they collide. He stays on but now flies away.

The darkness spell has worn off. A claw member, holding the side of his exposed and bleeding face flees. The goblin below, has the soldier’s blood on his green slimy lips. The goblin and Dire Bat both limp away leaving a blood trail. Xar hopes to find a means to use the sky sleds but does not find any of the control rings as most of the Claw members have already fled.

Xar looks to the injured dire bat next. One bolt (nat 20) struck the wing joint. Three other bolts are on its side and neck. As he nears it the dying bat snarls. It doesn’t deter the kobold at all. A shimmer appears next to the kobold. A flaming sphere?!? The kobold fires his drawn crossbow and begins to circle the dying and magical beast while being chased by the magic effect.

Nearby, the now flying cleric of travel leaves the fleeing Claw members including the woman leader and goes to the goblin. Dorque is stalking the goblin whom calls on his dark gods for power. “Stay” states the warforged. The goblin snarls and hisses as he motions to shield himself. Dorque places a very heavy foot on the goblins chest and pins the unholy symbol into his chest drawing blood as the dagger shaped symbol pushes through the cloth and strips of rotting leather. Instinctively, the goblin grabs the warforge’s foot and releases his contagion spell into it. The evil spell swirls around the (living) construct’s foot with seemly no effect.

“Bad” and the foot depresses slightly bringing out a high squeak. The goblin begins to punch and strike the foot. Then he claws onto it and spits at Dorque.

“Don’t kill him.” Calls out the cleric. Landing next to the pinned goblin , the cleric calmly kneels next to him, just out of the goblin’s reach. “What is this about?”. Between the bolt piercing a major artery and being squeezed like a grape, the goblin makes a barking and squeaking sound.

Then nothing as blood stops squirting out.

Tabask frowns. A missed opportunity. Xar joins them after killing the magical bat. After the warforged removes his foot and the cleric checks for dangerous effects on the body they begin to look to clues. Intact are a few potions with goblin writing and smiley faces on them. With some disgust, the cleric of good removes symbols of evil, the Shadow. Then he finds a crushed scroll case. Checking it out carefully, he opens it.


“What is it?” asks the kobold.



“Read” suggests the warforged.

Tabask works the damaged scroll open and removes the paper within. It has fresh blood on it from the dead goblin.

“Is it written in his language?” asks the kobold bounty hunter.

“No…. I think it is in common….”


“ The penmanship is… well its terrible. And it was written by a goblin. The word use…. Hard to understand.”

“Something-something of More graves… Morgrave….has succeeded in …. Translating… “

Tabask tries to smooth out the heavily wrinkled paper before trying again. “Something-something great art… artifact. Built by elves…. Clan Adev… Adventure…. Adventiteau….. of Mountain Shadow.”

“I feel like we need a magic spell to understand this…… “ adds Tabask before restarting the translation.

“Oft…. Often eats restless…. No restaurant…. Often eats at restaurant Moohdol…. McOh… dolisistt…. McOhdolistt…. Hound… Found in 24st lever…. 24th level of Tower Cluus…. 16th bell….”


“ah minimum security…. Something Boroman…. Boromar “

The kobold twitches at the name.

“He eats…. Reg…regularly…. Two or three…. Something a week. Always…. No… Often alone.”

The cleric pauses to look with concern to each of them before continuing.

“Sometimes with… Shiny…?!? But stupid…, ?!? “

“Shiny but stupid?” repeats the cleric in utter confusion.

“eh. Sounds like goblin speak. Shiny is valuable…. Or beautiful…” offers the kobold.

“alright then….. valuable but stupid…. Sec….secondary…. secretary… beware of …Claw.”

“Emerald Claw.” Dorque points out the obvious.

“Soon… snoop-ing around… Morgrave. Hiding… poorly.”

Treating his eye strain… Tabask squeezes his eyes shut and pinches them. “alright so….

“Something…. Mo fist? Name anyway….says Zil….hire of Morgrave has succeeded in translations. The translation speaks of… artifacts built by elves Clan Adventiteau of Mountain Shadow…Often eats… Zils-hire often eats at McOhdolistt… Found on 24th level ..of Tower Cluus in Cliff…side at 16th bell. Minimum
Security. Boramar… He…Zil-shire…. Eats there regularly 2 to 3 times a week. Often alone. Sometimes a “pretty” but stupid secretary eats with him. Beware of the Emerald Claw. They (?) are snooping around Morgrave. Hiding.”

The cleric sighs and looks down at the dead goblin. “He could have answered a lot of questions.” Looking back to the kobold and then up to the 6’10 warforge. “It seems someone is in danger. This Zilshire guy…. I feel compelled to help him.” The cleric clutches his adamantine emblem. “I cannot force you-“

“I am curious. I will help you for now.” Answers the kobold.

The warforged nods a yes and holds out a hand to help the cleric up.

They begin to discuss terms and names when they spot the city patrol coming their way. They move into the shadows and stairway leading down to avoid them.

They find a room for the night. Here they continue to decipher the scroll.

They decide the name is Nofist and most likely another goblin. To locate him may require seeking him in the areas controlled by the goblins… including the goblin markets.

Zilshire. Connected with the university sector. Noble or even Professor. If he is a professor there, Morgrave is known to become involved with ancient history and magic…. Including artifacts.

McOhdolistt is a popular restaurant that caters to adventurers

Boromar is a family suspected to be involved in illegal criminal activities….

“I have heard McOhdolistt has really good sandwiches and spied potato sticks.” Offers the cleric.

Claw vs Goblin as the group arrive.... SHAD 01.jpg



“Smells good.”

“Yes, Sarfuold agrees.”

They enter the popular restaurant. It is very busy and crowded. There are about a dozen tables. Each has adventurer types sitting at; dwarves, elves, humans and even a fewer amount of exotic races.

The cleric notes a lone black raven watching them enter the restaurant. The door closes and he pushes it open to look again and it is gone.

In a few minutes, a table becomes available. A worker wipes down the table and asks about food and drinks. The table is close to the door so they hope to monitor everyone coming in and out. The kobold’s weasel sticks its head out from under the table.

“We don’t allow pets in here. Sorry. It has to go.” Says the waitress as she arrives with the two drinks.

“Sarfuold is no mere pet.” States the insulted kobold.

“Sorry dear. Familiar, Companion and especially were creatures can not be here. House Ghallandra is cracking down on this law within the cities.”

“Please wait outside. It will be okay.” The large weasel slowly leaves with his head bowed low. He gives one last deep sniff then slinks out the door.

“So…. Is he a human or elf?” asks the kobold eyeing his drink.

“I am thinking elf. That is an elven name… Adventiteau.”

“Adventiteau ?”

“elven for Brave Traveler.” Tabask says while taking off his helmet. His elven blood shows as his ears are slightly longer and pointed. His human blood gives him blonde hair and a scruffy beard over a square jaw.

A few people come and go including a woman dressed in light yellow and black. “Maybe he is not coming in today. The scroll suggested he came here regularly… not daily.” Begins the kobold licking foam from his scaly lips.

“Are you enjoying the food?” asks the waitress.

“Very good.”

“Another drink?”

“No thankyou.”

She waits a few moments. Tabask then realizes what she is getting at. “We are waiting for someone. Zilshire. I’ll have one more drink.”

She begins to leave when she becomes startled. A large pink and black dotted nose if pushing the door open and sniffing. “He is outside.”

The waitress leaves quickly. They continue to sit and listen intently.

They hear about adventurers looking to go to the flooded Mirror Lake Valley, and The Hidden and to Xen’drik. One disturbing conversation they hear involves the rape and murder of several young girls within Sharn. They hope it is not connected to their quarry.

A roped human holding a pack and a book enters the room. Xar tosses the last of his fried spiced beef sandwich to his animal companion before the door recloses.

The man sits down. Puts the book on the table. Then an ink well, a floating quill. The waitress comes over “The usual?”

Without looking up he answers “Hummmummm”

“That must be him.” They get up begin to ask questions.


The man stops then looks up. “yes?”

“Do you know a Nofist?” asks the kobold.

The man begins to put the book and goods away.

“Are you translating a book? An old book?” asks Tabask.

The waitress returns. “Is the food to go?”

The door opens unnoticed by anyone. “Yes, It is to go. I must go.”

“Professor Zilshire? I wish to ask you some questions.”

“Ahhhhh! Hey! That’s my sandwich!”

The group turns and spots Sarfuold hurrying away from a table with a sandwich in his mouth. Then they spin into the other direction as the Professor hurries for the door with his stuff.

The dire weasel disrupts his footing as he hurries out the door with his “catch”.

“Your life may be in danger. Goblins and terrorists both seek you and the book you are translating. We want to help.”

“There it is! Damned mutant rodent stole my sandwich.” A human woman dressed in basic leather screams at the group. Two large men step from behind her.

“You owe her two silvers for that sandwich.”

As Dorque steps up to them between his new friends and the humans a female quietly steps out dressed in yellow and black. She goes in the direction the professor has gone.

“Weasel owe.” Declares the warforged. “Not Kobold.”

The weasel pauses hearing this then savagely chows and swallows the sandwich followed by a big gulp.

“Where did he go? “ calls out the Cleric.

“Sarfuold is-“

“No- the professor…. “

They chase after him. Stairs go down and they follow. They hear footsteps go down a hallway and go there. They continue on and find…. An open one-way courtyard.

They look at each other. Lost him.


“Where to?” asks the kobold.

“Down. We can find this ‘Nofist’ down where the goblins live.”

Not surprising…. No goblins seem to know this “Nofist”.

“Goblin Market” states Dorque.


“Ask in Market.”

“Three words. Big speech” the kobold sarcastically comments.

“Good idea. The market is next.”

Shortly they reach the upper levels where the goblins and other races live away from the natural sun. They scare many goblins in the first market. The second market goes poorly as Tabask is robbed of his coin purse- a very heavy coin purse. But the third…..

About two dozen goblins are at the market. Two humans are here at a booth. “We are looking for Nofist. Where can we find a goblin named ‘Nofist’ ?”

All of the goblins stare to the back of the crowd where one lone goblin stands. The two humans and the group turn now also to stare at the exposed goblin spy. Dorque steps forward and the crowd parts for him. The goblin begins to run. Tabask calls up his divine power to defy gravity and flies over the crowd and stops the goblin. By time the others catch up with them, the half-elf has already begun his interrogation.

“Nosebleed- Nofist at Nosebleed!”

“Where or what is a nosebleed?”


The nosebleed is a moving pit fighting event run by goblins. Each of the families are represented by a non-goblin and fight for family pride and money. As before, Tabask calls for Nofist. As before, the goblins turn and single out one goblin…. A goblin missing a hand.

“Are you killers of Shittaker?” snarls one goblin as he backs away.

“We are here for Nofist. Him.” And the kobold points at the retreating goblin.

The goblins understand they are no match for these three so they step aside but the half-orc pit fighters step up making a wall. “You and the Claw may have murdered Shittaker but you will not take Nofist.”

The three fighters do not last long as the warforged slices through them. Trapped, Nofist turns from his tunnel and faces the cleric of Travel.

“What want you?!? Nofist no talk.”

“Okay with me. But the big guy…….”

The goblin attempts to flee but a hold spell stops him. Tabask ties him up. “Zilshire. Why are you spying on him?”

“it what I do. Spy I do.”

“Who paid you?”

“One with money. Foolish question.”

“Both of you are fools. Tabask can’t tie knots for anything and you thought I wouldn’t notice you have one free already.” The kobold bounty hunter attaches manacles on him. He reties the bindings better and so that the stub of his arm can not pull free. “Now, are you going to answer this overly polite man his question or will… Dorque ask the questions.?” The kobold leans in close- “He is a warforged of few words but great intensity.”

They learn much in the next twenty minutes.

A human contact has hired him to spy on ‘Cranky Professor’ (Zilshire).

This began two months ago.

‘Mean Elf’ ( Professor Ardreau Guiest) has been translating a book for Cranky Professor.

He keeps this book poorly hidden in his apartment closet.

“Fancy Magic Guy” (Warlord Saas of Cleaved Rock) has been paying Cranky Guy to find and translate the book

“Shiny Stupid but Nosey Girl” (Zilshire’s Secretary) has been running interference; protects Cranky Guy

Claw has sent hidden agents to both Cranky Professor’s office and Apartment. Found nothing.

“Silver Flamer Headguy” (High Cleric Samson) has been snooping around also

“Holy Doggie” (Archon Hound Terrus) has been here for many many many months looking for book.

“Where to next?”

“For clues…. The two Professors’ offices and apartments….. maybe even talk to the Silver Flame.”

No fist curses under his breath. “No likes Silver Flamers.”


Roachbite is certain he has done well this time. Big people are such easy targets especially within a crowd. He finds a very dark hole deep in UnderSharn.

Sitting down he places the bag between his legs and rubs his hand together snickering. “pretties pretties pretties….”

He opens the bag and peers in. His eyes go wide and his passes out.

9 silver
27 gold
4 platinum



“Peco’s Place?” reads the Kobold Bounty Hunter. “Sounds like a gnomish blight.”

“Don’t like gnomes much do you?” comments the half-elf cleric.

Silence and a flare of a scaled nostril. “No.”

A bright purple and blue haired gnome pops up to the counter. “Welcome! Welcome to Peco’s- Peco’s Place! How can I help you? Looking for rooms? Peco has rooms.”

“How much for a room?”

“Five Coppers. Won’t find any cheaper. Five Coppers per room per night.” Even with the unhappy look on Kobold the gnome smiles.

“Sounds fair.” The cleric reaches under his tabard to his belt and….. nothing. “Gone?!? Where is my pouch?!?”

“I can pay.” Says the kobold thinking the cleric is a cheapskate.

“The big one must go elsewhere however. They don’t need sleep and invite trouble.”

“Outside.” States the large warforged even as he turns to leave. He is used to this type of treatment. If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it.

A few hours go by. Both the cleric and Bounty Hunter only require a few hours sleep so they are up by 6th Bell. As they gather and wait for Dorque to come in another young gnome with true red colored hair comes in. He sets down a handful of this weeks’s Korranberg Chronicles. The two gnomes quiet down and whisper. The youngest looks at the two and taps the papers with a subtle nod.

He leaves as the big warforged comes in. Tabask asks about buying a paper and does so. He reads the headlines and frowns. Once in the hallway and heading to Zilshire’s apartment mentions the headlines. “Goblins have been fighting robed people around the restaurants were we went to yesterday.”

“Same goblins as the ones we faced?” asks Xar as he pats his Dire Weasel.


“More?” asks the warforged.

“May be of interest to you. Merrix is coming out of hiding to give a speech about Warforged rites.”

If it interests him he does not show it.

Asking around, they find Professor Zilshire’s apartment. At 7th bell they knock and get no reply. Xar steps up to door and prepares to pick it.

“No. We are not going in uninvited. There is no reason to go in.”

Disappointed, the kobold puts his tools away and shrugs. “Your call.”

Just before 8th bell, they arrive within Morgrave University’s lecture halls.

Students are coming and going. Many are arriving for classes and others to speak to their teachers.

“Excuse me…..” begins the cleric to a student.

She shrugs off his hand in anger.

“Excuse me. Where…….” Another student rushes past him.

“Rude.” States the warforged.

“May I help you?” asks an armed security officer.

“Bit much?” suggests Tabask.

“Had some issues a year or so ago. University likes to keep it quiet. You are looking for… missing student?”

“No. Looking for a Professor Zilshire. Teaches here.”

“That quack. Two doors down on the right. Secretary should be there.”

“Shiney but stupid. Thank you.” And they walk past the guard.

“People seem …. On edge.” Notes the cleric.

“City life will do that to a person.” Offers the Kobold.

“Does your ….animal have a licence?” calls out the guard.



“I don’t…..”

“He left it at the room. Didn’t think to bring it to the University where familiars are more common.” Quickly adds the cleric.

The guard looks them over them several students pass between them. The groups takes this opportunity to move on.

“Here.” States the warforged.

Ever polite, the cleric knocks.

“Like, come in. It’s unlocked.” Calls out a woman from the other side.

The cleric goes in first. He sees a woman wearing a skin tight dark blue mini-shirt and vest. A white blouse with many buttons undone and her black hair in a loose bun. She pushes up her over sized glasses and smiles. “Hello and like good morning. What can I do for you?”

Shiny and Stupid thinks the cleric. “We want to see the professor. Is he in?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

The bounty hunter enters next with his animal companion. The room is simple and neat. A desk, a chair and a short shelf. “Oh what a cute puppy.” The Dire Weasel and kobold both look to each other in disbelief. “What breed?”


“Ugly.” States the warforged and his chest rises and falls. Tabask wonders if the warforged made a joke and is laughing. “Karrnathi Hound.” Offers the cleric with no idea but obviously neither does she.

She knocks and sticks her head into the doorway leading to an office next door. She waves them- “Just be, like, quick- he has class soon.”

For as clean as the sitting room is, his office is messy. Papers, tomes, books and scrolls are piled and heaped on the floor, chairs and shelves.

“Who are you and what do you want?” asks the cranky old professor from behind his messy desk.

“I am Tabask. My friends are Xar and ah… Dorque. We are following up an investigation of ours. Have you ever seen this note before? The half-elf hands the bloodied messy note to him.

The professor looks at the note with disgust. Frowning, he picks up the note with his finger tips. “What does this say?”

“A goblin wrote it.”

“hmmmmm….. I see. Is this my name?”

“You know it is. Why is a goblin spying on you and your hired help?”

“Hired help?”

“A translator and secretary.”

“Claw. Is she Claw?”

“Shiny and Stupid….? Hah-ha. “Love goblin speak.” The professor looks the rest of the note over then calmly places it onto a stack of student papers.

“Are you here for employment?” the professor asks and glares through the open door where his secretary is listening. “The last team…. Ended badly.”

“Do tell.”

“I had hired three individuals to help me. Wardrum, a dwarf, Kar-Draith, a lizardfolk and Hardfist, a lumpy skinned ogre (goliath) were to delivery a few books for me to translate. Wardrum died and others took his place. They never made it back.”

“Back- to you or Sharn?”

“Me. There were rumors of a warforged named Charger having joined them and returned to Sharn. He never came to me if he had however.”

“The group delivered books? Who?”

“Warlord Saas.”

“What kind of books?”

“History. Ancient history. I really must ask you to leave. I will be late for class.”

“Professor- we’ll go but be careful….. goblins can be dangerous to work with.”


They are pushed and rushed out by the ditsy secretary as Zilshire gathers his required paperwork. She isn’t at all scared of Dorque and pushes him the most. She even puts her hands on his back and bottom of his shoulder pads. “Like Out Out! He can not be late!”


Professor Ardreau Guiest lives in a better section of Sharn. The brickwork and wooden interior panels are intact with fresh paint and stains. The address on the note leads them directly to the spot. Xar is happy he memorized much of the note they left at Zilshire’s office.

The cleric knocks gently. Nothing. He knocks harder and the door opens a few inches.

The apartment has been ransacked.

“Don’t go in. Leave it for the City Watch.”

“Xar- can you locate the Watch and bring them over?”

Shortly he returns with a few members of the watch with him.

“That was quick.”

“We were nearby. What have you found?”

“Something I left for you to see…..”

“Leave what to us?”

Tabask closes his eyes and supports his forehead on the doorframe. He turns slowly with his hands up. There are NINE officers there now. Two rows of four and a commander in the back. “I am Captain Feedle of The City Watch that over sees this area. May I see your papers please.”

Each hand over there papers. The Captain reads each in full and out loud and looks over the papers for authenticity. She hands them back. “We were told there was a disturbance here. We will need to have you join us at the guard house to answer some questions.”

“No.” states the warforged.

“Excuse me- did you refuse a simple lawful request by the city guard at a crime scene?”

“What crime?” asks the cleric.

“We received word that Professor Guiest is missing.”

The three look at each other. Each are thinking the same thing- they were set up. Then the second row expose items held in their hands- Wands!

“Now wait a damned-“ begins Xar with a hiss.

Dorque begins to move forward when they discover the wands are meant for him- Hold Construct.

The cleric now has decided not to hold back.

The remainder of officers pull out great swords- NOT standard equipment for city watch.

The warforged breaks free of the spell nearly cleaves an officer in two.

Another series of wands either fizzle or hold him once more. A look of ‘this is not the way it is supposed to go’ crosses several members faces.

The weasel begins to launch itself onto officers and bite and drink from them. As they are held, the kobold covers them with small bolts from his crossbow.

Captain Feedle begins to turn and flee. She is struck down. Wuth injured legs, she attempts to crawl to safety. The Cleric kills her.

Covered with blood splatter of the watch, the three look at each other and flee the scene.

They have no intension to stay in Sharn anymore.



“Like, I thought he was never gonna leave.” Declares the secretary as she closes and locks the door to the office.

She sits down closes her eyes. The smile leaves her face and her facial features become stern. She blows out her breath. She opens the desk lowest draw and reaches within the drawer. She opens a secret panel and pulls out a circlet. She looks to the concentrates further. She wishes she was certain what apartment they went to. It seems someone has gotten there first before them. City guards already? Corrupt? What was that? Ransacked? Zilshire- you are either one of the most corrupt people I have ever met or you are the ultimate puppet. I think puppet-

Fighting? The warforged is attacking the watch. Thought I heard the kobold say something about wands……

“oh. My. Gods.” She whispers in disbelief. The three of them are attacking the watch and not holding back !

DRAVAGO 7, 1003 10th BELL, SHARN

The Dark Lantern known only as Cole sits in the secret office of the Lanterns built into the walls of the Watch’s prison and headquarters. He is impatient, the city guard should have found them by now and had them held. After a few hours there, he would come to offer them freedom- for a cost. He knows the Warlord Saas is up to no good and is involving translators from Morgrave University. These three may have information he doesn’t have and could use.

Ah- activity in the Watch…… the young man goes to the secret viewing and listening point to the Watch.

“It was a massacre! There was said to be three of them and a dire weasel. They killed all nine of them- in cold blood. The professor that lived in the apartment is still missing and now believed to be dead.

Cole has a sinking and wrenching feeling in his gut. HE got the watch killed. HE underestimated the three of them.

Cole reaches for the papers and quill…… Tabask, Dorque and the kobold just joined the 10 Most Wanted for Dark Lanterns and House Denieth!

Dawnstar is hurrying down the hallway. She needs to stop them and learn what they know. Seems they are looking to leave the city immediately- through the docks. The Royal Eye agent hurries wishing she didn’t have high heels on. Damned secretary role……


DRAVAGO 7, 1003 11th BELL, SHARN

Tabask keeps looking nonchalantly over his shoulder as the three wait for the magic lift from the base of the city of Sharn to the docks below. Xar and his animal companion also look about for the city watch but sees no one. Dorque stands there like a statue. Once every so often he spots a fleck of blood on his shoulder or chest and wipes its off. Whatever.

The lift returns to them and after waiting for a bugbear with an eye patch and a distinctive looking bucker with clan markings on them to exit, they step onto the lift. Three coppers are handed over and the lift goes up.

Startled and paranoid, the half-elf confronts the operator. “Lift goes from top to bottom- then bottom to top. Stops three times going up and again going down. In a hurry?” comments the clearly bored and emotionless lift operator.

“no.” replies the cleric hoping not to draw suspicion to himself. “I’m new to the city. I don ‘t know much about it.”

“Ah…. Well….. Sharn is the largest city in Khorvaire. However it is not the capital of Breland- Wroat is. It has… just a moment- top of this line.” The lift operator gently pulls a lever and the lift stops high above the docks overlooking the Hilt, the bay connecting Dagger River with the Seaway.

A drunken sailor stumbles onto the lift and mumbles while pointing down. The mixed smell of stale ale and urine is overpowering. However they stay on board as a lone watch guard is seen strolling about within the crowds of the city.

As they go down, Dorque discovers a piece of bloody bone caught within his shoulder pad. With some perseverance, the warforged fighter removes the piece and flicks it off the lift. Tabask looks out and sees several ships docked. Many are unloading cargo from foreign lands. Others sit in the bay. They anchored there either because they are too large or wish to avoid taxes and/or dock workers nosing about their cargo or ship. The Traveler has strange urges he thinks.

Second from last, the drunken sailor mumbles and points at an tunnel entrance to the Cogs. The man stumbles off leaving a wet foot print from his right foot only. The kobold bounty hunter pulls his Dire Weasel back whom was sniffing the puddle the man stood in. The lift continues down another 50 feet and the four exit.

Where to begin? The rocky area between the cliffs and dock area have footways and short trails connecting them. Within these trails are wild flowers looked after by a few druids whom try to avoid passerbyers. Also here are sailors in tight watchful groups watching closely anyone walking nearby. A few ladies of the night are here also. Not the better-looking women by any means. These are women that desperate sailors will be willing to hire.

“Not the best area of the docks.” Comments Xar as he looks at an open sewer drain dumping raw sewage into a drain that then empties into the salt water nearby.

“Fewer Watch will be here.” Answers Tabask. “I don’t wish for further contact with them.”

“Avoid yes. Fear no.” replies Dorque.

“Did you forget already? The Captain suggested these watchmen had connections with the Swords and Dark Lanterns. Trainees or possible trainees but that is something we don’t want to be battling.”

The warforged is quiet. He recalls memories and rumors of Dark lanterns and the King’s swords- his assassins.

There are hundreds of sailors and dock people visible. Crates, wagons, beasts of burden and barrels are everywhere. It looked simple from up high on the lift but down here on the docks they feel lost and buried. “We ought to go to the dock masters for aid.” Suggests Xar.

“But why?”

“He or she will know if and when a ship is coming and for our needs going. We can do it without giving our names also. And there’s them.” He points about 100 feet down to the main docks. Five House Denieth members are asking sailors questions.

“Where?” asks the warforged.

“Right over there- that better looking building.” The Kobold points to a medium sized blue colored building with floats and old fishing nets hanging off of pegs along its roof edges. Crates, both shipping and lobster are stacked around it creating a short walled maze leading to its doorway.

After passing by another handful of sailors and women (including one child-like halfling) they enter the building getting out of view of the Dragonmarked family of Bounty Hunters. The floor is a mosaic of the ocean from northern Xen’drik to southern Khorvaire, Aeranel, northern Argonnessen and the eastern / western edges that book end the map. Several pieces are pieces are missing. Some of them have not been replaced. On the walls are more nets, buoys and other seafaring decorations. A large fat shaggy man enters the room. Behind him you catch a glimpse of shark jaws over 12 feet wide and high.

The fat man walks poorly from the closed door to a table. He collapses into a chair and looks at each of you trying to adjust his focus with the Kobold. “Whah hat?” he asks and points at the bounty hunter.

“A kobold.”

“Dought they hah dawg heads or sumpthing lauh dat.” He mumbles.

Tabask at first he thinks the man is stupid but then watches as the man searches a nearby table and removes a bottle of rum only 1/4th full. He sniffs it- wrinkles his nose at the smell, then smiles and chugs the remainder of the bottle in one breath. “Whah I do to hel’ you?”

“We were wondering about any outgoing ships. We hoped to get a lift. Quickly.”

The drunk dock watcher silently appraises each member… including Sarfuold (hairy halfling). “Wrong time day. Ships unlodding now. Set saih whith tides tomorroh or laydder.” Looking now at Dorque- “No loyalling here on mies dawks.” Deep frown then a burb that makes Tabask turn his nose away.


“Positive?” asks the warforged.

The drunk looks at him sternly. “Maybe ship not regtarred wid me will lissen toes you. Ships fat leave quietly. Day anchor ins da bay. Rows in. Trys them if you needs.” And his finger lazyily and unsteadily motions out the window at nothing specific.

“Thankyou.” Answers Tabask and the others begin to head out the door.

From the safety of the crates they look around. The Red color coded Denieth members are closer and driving sailors away. Too many feel they have possible warrants on them it appears. They also see a blackman with a red bandana and tri-pointed hat laughing but arguing with a young woman dressed better than then the working women here but the clothes are more revealing. Several tired, possibly hung over sailors are following them. They stop to argue more on the other side of the crates.

“Lucious- we are short handed as it is. We need to replace those three.”

“It’ll be okay. We always make it work in the end.”

“No. It works out for you- not us- not me. Humor me- find three more sailors. If not sailors- at least people that can help us at the island.”

“Ezzy Ezzy Ezzy….. we’ll be find. Besides- we need to leave shortly. Now that I have the map, we’ll be wanted people.”

“Hello. My name is Tabask. I couldn’t help but hear you are looking for help.” The half-elf puts on a bright smile and steps around the crates to better see the young woman and the man.

“Were you eaves dropping on us?!?” she stampers.

“Need three men… and here we have,,, uh three.” Begins the Captain looking first at Tabask then the warforged whom castes a shadow over him. Finally he looks at the kobold. “Nice….. what is he?”

“I am a Kobold. Has no one here seen a kobold before?”

“Why yes. Yes I have. I think.” He then frowns deeply trying to compare the Poison Dusk Lizard folk with what he sees here. “I am Captain Lucious Williams Peacock but you may call me ‘Lucky Luke’.

“Lucious…. Eh. Luke- we may be able to help you. You are leaving shortly I understand?” offers the half-elf.

“Nice necklace. Are you a cleric?” asks the woman as she looks at the half-breed closer.

“Yes. Yes I am. I can help healing and with repairs if required.”

“This is a warforged. The biggest I have ever seen. Is it true they don’t need to breath in water?” asks the captain.

“I do not breath.” Answers the warforged.

“Then how do you talk?” asks the woman.

The warforged can not say. He steps up and tries to stare her down. “Magic!” answers the Captain with certain glee. “He is created by magic. I am certain he can help a great deal once there.”

One of the drunken sailors snorts and smirks at the comment.

“You have something to add Jack?” asks the woman with her fists on her hips. Tabask wonders briefly how her shorts are staying on her hips. So low and…. Revealing.

“N-No ma’am. Just… he made of stone wood and steel. He will sink.”

“The Azure Dragon is made of these same materials. Do you believe she will sink?” asks the captain smirking and winking at the warforged. The action is lost on the warforged.

“What can the kobold do?” she asks next.

“I am a bounty hunter by profession.”

“NOT LOOKING FOR ANYONE AT THIS POINT…are you?” the Captain bursts out loud. Tabask looks to see if the Denieth agents heard him. They did not.

“No. Sadly I am not.”

The captain leans over to Ezzirra and whispers out loud- “We could use a smaller worker to go into the smaller holes and breaks. He may have other skills.”

“We will be at sea for several months but the pay is good.”

“Sounds reasonable. Lets talk more while we walk to your ship.” The other bounty hunters are getting closer.

They have a dingy at the docks. The Azure Dragon is anchored about 1000ft from shore. It is a large three mast ship. It looks to be in good shape. Dorque is the first member in the dingy. The bow lifts nearly out of the water he he sits on the seat and it creaks and cracks loudly. Jack is scared and uncertain the boat can handle the weight. “Don’t too much” suggests Ezzy.

And thus a new chapter begins……



Tabask is trying to make friends with Ezzirra. She is constantly in her room brewing potions. The smell reminds him of fish. It can’t be good.

The kobold is NOT a water creature. He has been sick nearly every day since leaving Sharn. Sarfuold has been exploring the ship happily. Every so often he finds a stray and/or dropped coin or glass bead dropped. He has created a secret nest in a coil of rope in a dark corner on the third level down. There is also a strange creature here. It is orange and white with short hair. It’s eyes are green and bright. It seems to have tunnels and runways built into the ship along the ceiling on the outer walls and a few going up the corners. These tunnels and passageways were built for this creature. The openings to the passageways are too small for the Dire Weasel.

Dorque stands up at the bow looking at the water. He is uncertain at what to make of the dolphins racing with the ship nor the seagulls that cry out in the air.

DRAVAGO 19, 1003

Though it is summer there is a cold breeze in the air. Cold especially for the beginning of the summer months near the equator. Dorque continues to stare at the seagulls as they fly about the ship hoping for food or something to eat.

Xar and Tabask is resting in the top most cabin on the bow across from the Captain’s quarters. The weasel is absent (looking for shiny things and that critter).

The man in the Crow’s Nest, Rat (Any Sinbad animated fans out there?) calls out a warning. Not hearing him clearly the first time everyone is scanning the water and the horizon. It is Dorque that spots it next- something flying from the north out of Zilargo. A man-sized creature with leather wings.

“Dragon!” calls out Rat from above. He rings a cow bell in addition to yelling out.

Even as Tabask and Xar charge out their doorway onto the deck the White Dragon drops to water level and sweeps up at the ship’s edge. It strikes the warforged with its breath weapon. As it flies low just over the rail Tabask gets a lucky strike on it. It sweeps out taking many seconds to turn and charge again. The sailors have bows but are not good with them. A few have gaffs and other assorted polearms but miss as the dragon swings by again.

It lands on the rail and swats the warforged with its wings and tries to bite and claw at it. Ice and pieces of it’s wooden components flake off from the strikes. Tabask spots multiple bright colored dots on it (The Dragon Fear aka Dragon Beetles from The Hidden). Not knowing much about dragons, he continues the attack.

The sailors make several unlucky or unskilled attack attempts. They thrust their gaffs past the cleric and fighter and miss. As they retract the weapons the hook twists and nearly snags them instead. Tabask steps on frosted wooden deck stairs and falls down the stairs. Xar nearly shots Dorque in the shoulder as the ship rolls more than usual as a wave comes by.

So unlucky.

The dragon pauses to uses it’s breath weapon (4 rds…. How unlucky for it) and Dorque uses that moment to bury his large sword into its chest. He nearly loses his grip from the chilled blade hilt as the dragon slowly falls backwards and into the water. It sinks leaving a bit of frostiness on the surface.

“What the hell was that all about?!?” demands Ezzy as she comes up from below.



Sarfuold continues to play “Cat & Mouse” with the mystery creature. Why does this creature have its own special tunnels? What is it? Does the Captain or Ezzirra know about it? The Dire Weasel animal companion hides in the shadows watching and listening. The animal is here. There!

It is moving through the room. The weasel charges and the two run through the sleeping section of the ship. The orange and white creature is fast and agile. The weasel is fast but bigger. As the creature speeds under the swinging hammocks, the weasel gives chase…. And strikes several sleeping men. They call out as the creature luckily makes it to an opening as the weasel loses its footing and thumps into a cask of half drank ale.

He stops and concentrates to sort out the sounds. He ignores the bright green beetle as it scrambles past him on the floor. Men are grumbling, weighted hammocks sway, boards creak and crack in the gentle drift of the sea. But he can just hear the animal as it climbs to the next level through its matrix of tunnels. Sarfuold gives chase as he scrambles up stairs and ladders. It is has continued up to the top…. Into the Captain’s quarters.

Sarfuold sniffs and pushes at the door. Nothing. Now he scratches at the door and shorty hears a “Morrus? Is that you?” and the door opens as the Captain looks to the weasel. “Oh you.” And he rushes through the doorway into the cabin and spots his quarry on the table with a map and measuring instruments. “NO !” Captain Lucious calls out. Leave Morrus alone!”

The commotion awakens Xar and Tabask whom hurry over. Dorque watches without emotion.

“What is the meaning of this?!?” Demands the Captain.

The orange tiger cat hisses at the dire weasel. The weasel dances around in play. Maps, charcoal sticks, straight edges and other goods dump to the floor as the two bounce around with “mock” swats and hisses.

“Where did the tabbie come from?” asks Tabask. Xar thinks about soup.

“I didn’t know there was a house cat on the ship.” Tabask continues with.

“Have you seen any mice or rats onboard? Morrus is a crew member like everyone else. And unlike a few of the newer members, he does his job.”

The warforged stiffens slightly at the implied insult. Tabask shakes his head in annoyance.

The Golden Cat named Morrus gives an all-knowing look and swish of its tail in annoyance.


Rat gives out a call from the crow’s nest. “FOG!”

“Fog… is dangerous?” asks the warforged whom has not moved in two days now.

“Fog? No. But what it hides can be. See there- we can see it now from the deck.” Replies Ezzirra.

Thick white fogs sits on the water directly before the Azure Dragon. Captain Lucious has come out from his room to look at it. “Gently to the right Nemo.”

The sailor at the wheel turns the ship away from the shore. No one says anything including the cleric.

“Captain…. The fog is stalling. Staying before us.” Calls down the crow’s nest man.

“Moving to intercept or what?” Tabask finally asks.

“Maybe. Drop the bow and stern masts. Slow her down.” Commands the Captain. Several men rapidly climb the ropes and ladders to the masts and begin to close them. The ship slowly decreases in speed. The fog remains.

The tension is as thick as the fog. “Captain?” asks a sailor.

“Casting a detection spell now for magic.” Says Ezzy as she begins to wave her hands and fingers.

“Oye! Can’t you see me walking here?” calls out someone as the ship begins to enter the fog. Everyone looks at each other questioning what they just heard.

“Below- by the port bow! “ calls out Rat from high above.

Everyone moves there hoping it is not another dragon. What they see is more unsettling.

Standing on the water, adjusting its stance as the waves roll by within the fog, is an Ogre with a walking stick. It wears only a breech cloth and a pack.

“You are not near the normal shipping lanes. Where are you off too? Off course are ye?”

Everyone is slack jawed looking at this friendly giant-kin walking on water in the ocean miles from the shore line. So awe struck and confused, no one answers the ogre as he further greets them Tired on it, the Ogre waves at them and moves on.

“Now THAT…. That was different.” Says the Captain to the ship sorcerer.



Sarfuold encounters more brightly colored beetles on the ship. He chews on them but can not break their hard shells. So instead, he collects them along with his gold, silver and copper pieces. He has begun his nightly patrol avoiding Morrus as he goes. Slinking along the sleeping level outer wall he hears something. Something in the water by the ship.

Tabask is in the crow’s nest with Rat. He has taken the insult of a cat doing more for the crew than himself to heart. At first he didn’t like the feel of being rocked several feet side to side high over the water. However, he has gotten used to it now. He even likes it.

Travel. Tabask follows the Traveler in his own way. He has traveled from Cyre to Breland and even parts of Talenta Plains, Zilargo and considered Valenar. But always by land. Now he travels by water. The experience is divine.

Travel into foreign lands, being earth or water, exposes him to new creatures, peoples and experiences. He was inspired by the dolphins as they raced with the ship. The unexpected Dragon encounter- his first dragon no less was incredible. He feels he missed a great opportunity with the strange traveling ogre. This being must have an incredible wealth of stories and tales to offer. Perhaps they will meet again some day.

He is caught up with his deep thoughts as they drift to his father and mother when Rat suddenly tenses up. He is staring into the gloom of night…. Near the ship. Fear as well as alertness is written by his body language. Then comes the first muffled scream. Followed by loud thumping as the warforged fighter suddenly charges to the edge of the ship.

“Sahuagin!” Rat screams out over and over.

A dozen of the raiding sea creatures are either on board or scaling up the ship’s outer hull. The alarm call spreads quickly as does the blood. For each strike a sailor scores on the sea devils two are made on them. Two sailors are down before the entire crew including the captain and sorcerer arrive. Tabask castes a magical weapon and increased light as he slowly goes down the ropes in the darkness.

Xar fires his cross bolt striking several times. One shot took a wild ricochet off of Dorque’s sword and inches away from a tripped sailor. Ezzy’s magic missiles strike but miss their target on their first swing. The bad luck is not limited to the crew however. The Sahuagin also have their own unlucky moments. Some fall off the ship as they climb over the rail, others miss constantly as they swing their claws and snap with their mouths.

It seems only the Captain had no mishaps. If fact, several times the creatures mis-stepped near him allowing him a good steady strike.

In the end, three sailors die, two require immediate aid and eight sea devils are dead. The rest left or fell off on their own.

“How close are we to this island of yours?” Asks / demands Tabask.

“Blackened Fruit Island is within a weeks sail. Tomorrow we discuss it. Tonight- we rest.” Answers the Captain with an infectious smile.


LHARVION 7, 1003

“Why the name? Seems…. Odd.” Asks Tabask.

“Some say it is cursed. Once fruit is picked from the tree it decays quickly. Some even say food brought ashore decays rapidly. But what is in a name.” Answers the Captain as he pats his pet cat- Morrus.

“Cursed Island?” questions Xar.

“No curses. Just bad magic.” States Dorque.

“Either way. Its mystique has kept it from being settled….” Begins the Captain.

“…and how far away and alone it is in the deep waters between Khorvaire and the elven lands.” Adds the sorceress.

“As such, the pirate princes are said to have buried vast amounts of treasure here. Their goods from dozens, even hundreds of pirate raids on Karnnath and Breland.”

“Why not Zilargo? Even the others?” asks Jack.

“I am talking about hundreds of years ago. Before the war.” Corrects the Captain. “This island is also protected by a submerged coral reef. Ships must be careful getting near to this island. There are legends of dozens of heavy treasure heavy ships running onto these reefs. No one goes near it.”

“But you are.” Adds the kobold.

“Yes! You finally understand!” Exclaims the ship leader.

Xar and Tabask give each other uncomfortable glances. “Understand?” asks Tabask.

“I- WE are here to claim and retrieve all of this treasure on the lady and on the reef. Do you remember our agreement- Each crew member gets one and a quarter percent of the monies and treasures found here. We may all be retiring this year.”

“Option One- explore a cursed island that may or may not have treasure…. Option Two somehow swim around shark infested reefs hoping to find and be able to retrieve gold from dangerous wrecks.” The Kobold adds.

“So negative my little lizard man. The maps I bought in Sharn show the reefs. We can easily reach the island. There is no evidence of habitation. Keep the food on the ship assuming there is such a curse. For the reef, Ezzy has been brewing potions to allow a small crew to breath under water. I have thought you can help with that also. My understanding is many of these wrecks remain intact near or on the reefs. As for sharks…. All reefs have its predators. I have heard nothing of greater presence of sharks here. Relax. Soon you- ALL OF YOU- will be rich men…. And woman.” He smirks at Ezzy whom looks over at Tabask. She is looking at his medallion more closely now.

“So 1 silver a day….. treasure or no treasure….. then over One percent of any treasure found….” Begins the half-elf, “and if I remember, 2 silver a day if the exploration itself takes over 50 days-“

“Yes- beginning on day 51….. As I said, we will be rich.”

“Or dead.” Says the kobold.

“No water. I will go to the land only.” States the warforged.

“But you can not drown. No magic is required to aid you….” Begins the Captain as if you just slapped him on the face. HIS plan is not working as he had forseen.

“Salt water…. Water pressure. Land only.”

“You heard the warforged.” Concurs Tabask.

LHARVION 12, 1003

A storm has come that tosses the ship around and about. Little comes of it beyond reminding the PCs of where they are and how exposed they are. Ezzirra doesn’t make potions or read her books on lost ships in this area this night.

LHARVION 15, 100

Rat is the first to see Blackened Fruit Island. A green and brown point rising out of white water on the horizon. Everyone comes to the deck at word of the sighting. Even the weasel comes up from his beautiful shiny nest to look.


So many reefs. Some stick out of the water and all drive water into tumbling or crashing waves. Mixed in these are seven or eight visible sunken ships. Some are largely exposed but sit at awkward angles while others only the masts can be seen protruding from the water. 50-200 ft beyond the reefs is rich white and yellow sandy beaches. Thick grass lands with small glens of trees form the next ring into the island’s center. The next ring is dark green of jungle that rises up the mountain that is the center. Brown stone protrudes above the jungle. The mountain may be an extinct volcano.

“Tonight we wait and sleep. Tomorrow we explore.”

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