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The Thorns of Winter -(updated 8/1/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8125202" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p><h2><p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center">The Bargain - 11/12/2020</p> </h2><p></p><p></p><p>Urkiel Mroranon growled with frustration. There was always more to be done, and it would be early mornings and long days for a while. Normally filling a garrison with Mror was never a problem; the Realm Below had much to reward the intrepid and the brave.</p><p></p><p>Until Skollhanker started luring strong Mrors of all types, warriors, smiths, masons with the tales of gold from the Sieve. Gold fever had the Mrors aflame with greed and sloth. Hard honorable work below didn’t appeal as much as a swift march above for easy coin. Easy to lure battle hardened Mror with a share of a mine. A mine not touched since the early days of the Last War. You would think that nuggets were just waiting there, in easy reach in the tunnels. Nevermind that the Jhorash’tar infested the mine with their filth. But once done, the Mror would come back. All Urkiel could do was wait for the madness to pass.</p><p></p><p>But the work still needed doing, and so Urkiel had arrived early yet, before the sound of First Bell. The spring chill gripped the stone in its cold embrace. Few of the garrison staff were present, only the thin number of guards on the Fourth Watch. He supposed that his aide-de-camp Barnas wasn’t even in yet. But truth be told, Urkiel got more done the hours before First Bell, than he would with the constant interruptions of complaints. The Soldorak guards were never going to get along with the few Mroranon men still here on the surface. And while Urkiel was nominally in charge; the Soldorak were hired to do a job for Mroranon. And as long as it was adequate, he could ignore the complaints.</p><p></p><p>Urkiel entered the antechamber of his office he passed the still armor stands, and the empty desk of Barnas. And without pausing he opened the door to his own office. He stepped inside and sighed happily. The morning light from the east painted the stone walls, and slate roofs of Krona, in a dim orange glow. While the sun was still below the Iron Roots for now, by the tolling of the bell, the rays of the sun, would light up the stone and the gold leaf that adorned many of the buildings. Urkiel wasn’t really much for sentiment; but the morning glow of the gold made a Mror’s chest swell in pride.</p><p></p><p>But the view was far from Urkiel’s mind, as he felt warmth of the fire gently soak into his bones. The fireplace was ablaze with flame, its heat already spread throughout the room, and dulling the chill from the glass. The weather was always cool but for a spring, it was unseasonably cold. Urkiel unstrapped his hammer from his belt and placed it on the desk and was about to sit, when he realized something was amiss.</p><p></p><p>If Barnas wasn’t at his desk, how was it that the fireplace was already lit? Urkiel barely had a moment to think about it when he heard a stirring. There seated in a stuffed leather chair was the figure of a person curled up upon it. Staring a moment, he saw that they had hair like gold, drifting to below the shoulders, and lightly browned skin, a human female. In her hand was a book from his shelf, one that talked about the key battles of the Last War, and how the Karrns had overplayed their hand in fighting against Thrane. As he looked at her, he realized that she wore a threadbare tunic of a prisoner, Then she looked up and smiled at him, and as her gaze met his, he was suddenly certain of one thing.</p><p></p><p>She was no human. He saw himself in her eyes, which were like polished mirrors.</p><p></p><p>“I take it, that it is near…First Bell, correct?” she said softly in the trade language, unconcerned as Urkiel gripped his hammer with his right hand. “And I assume you must be Urkiel of Clan Mroranon…or did I have that reversed?”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel blinked puzzled, and replied with his own question, “You…you must be the one that we caught spying down below. How did you get in here…no how did you get out of your cell?” he growled, suddenly concerned.</p><p></p><p>The woman didn’t react to the question, and instead set his book on a table next to her. She looked at the Mror calmly before speaking again. “If spying includes falling and crushing a table, certainly. Otherwise not really. You <em>are</em>…Urkiel correct?”</p><p></p><p>Confused he stammered, “You are correct, Mroranon is the Clan name, and I am Urkiel,”</p><p></p><p>The woman nodded and smiled, “Good, I am pleased to meet you.” She looked around and straightened herself up in the chair. “I’ve been looking forward to—”</p><p></p><p>“—To what? Using me in your escape? You have severely—”</p><p></p><p>“—No.” she interrupted shaking her head. “No, I am not escaping. I am here to…make a deal…a bargain with you.”</p><p></p><p>“You are unarmed, and you are not in a position to make any demands.” Urkiel growled, narrowing his eyes at the strange woman who casually and calmly sat in his office. To his surprised, she nodded.</p><p></p><p>“You are right. I am not in position to make demands. Which is why here to make an offer,” she said simply, her hands folded in front of her. “I have no intent to run and hide.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel’s anger settled and he looked at the woman with curiosity. “Alright what do you want then?”</p><p></p><p>“A fair chance.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p></p><p>The woman took a deep breath. “I have been a guest for some time, and yet none seem to believe a word I say. So, I want you to question me.”</p><p></p><p>“I have heard that you are concealing the truth of things.”</p><p></p><p>“No, I have not. And that’s why I want you to question me on the…<em>Eye of Aureon</em>. You, and the others, Paron and Vernan. They can confirm that I have not changed a word.”</p><p></p><p>“So, you said you wanted to bargain? What are you offering?”</p><p></p><p>“I will tell you on that same Eye, how I escaped your prison, and found my way to see you.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel smirked at the strange woman, when the door burst open and a blonde haired, bearded dwarf ran inside.</p><p></p><p>“Sir! The prisoners! The Soldoraks tell me that the spy escaped! And—”</p><p></p><p>“—And the other one is dead,” the woman said startling the aide, who twisted around, and grabbed for an axe at his side. Urkiel then lifted his hand and shook his head.</p><p></p><p>“Suppose you know something about that?” he said evenly.</p><p></p><p>The woman sighed, looking down, softly nodding. “I would, and you can ask me on the eye if you like.” She then looked at the aide and then lifted up her arms and put her wrists together.</p><p></p><p>Urkiel shook his head, “If you were going to run, you wouldn’t be here. And I am curious…on what exactly you are going to say.”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>Paron d’Sivis picked up his satchel and downed another cup of coffee, grimacing.</p><p></p><p>“Who overheated the kettle? Tastes like it came out of a—”</p><p></p><p>“—Paron! This is a catastrophe!” Benfiq said rushing into the room with a bundle. “Our own procedures made us blind to all of this! I suspect we are going to be buried in audits for years! YEARS!!</p><p></p><p>Paron sighed “Sadly yes. I guess we can take some solace that we found it now. Later it would be been much worse. Anyway, I need to get ready for that interrogation. Should be the last day of it and then I can help—”</p><p></p><p>“—Paron, sir!” a younger gnome; a new clerk Paron remembered named Ulden came rushing up with a slip of paper.</p><p></p><p>“What <strong><em>is </em></strong>it today…yes?” Paron replied annoyed.</p><p></p><p>“You’ve been summoned to the Circle of Adamant at once!” the excited clerk said.</p><p></p><p>“What? Now? Who sent the summons?” and Paron ripped away the slip from the clerk, and his expression became more puzzled as he read who issued the demand, just as Ulden voiced it.</p><p></p><p>“Urkiel Mroranon. It’s about that int—”</p><p></p><p>“What just happened?!? Urkiel wants to go back to war, not deal with common crimes…unless…Flinders! Benfiq, I am going to need those files now,” and Paron snatched the large bundle from his cousin. “And count on me missing my shift. This is getting serious.” And Paron started to rush to the back entrance to avoid the throng gathering for message services at the front.</p><p></p><p>“Wait!” Benfiq called, causing Paron to stop short. “You have a message that came in last night!”</p><p></p><p>“I will look at it later! I’m going to—”</p><p></p><p>“Its from Korranberg!” and Benfiq ran over to a bin holding received documents. He grabbed a thick stack of papers and ran it to Paron.</p><p></p><p>Paron put down the bundle and he started to flip through the pages, his eyes growing wider with each turn.</p><p></p><p>“By the Sovereign!”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>Vernan jogged along the cobblestones toward the Old Keep. Naturally it took its name from the fact it was one of oldest part of the Peak. Back when it perched over the mines and overlooked the passes for marauding Clansmen looking to take the hard work of the Mroranon’s. Back before the Clansmen were subdued, and the Clans became princes of industry. Now the bailey stood wide open, and the hearthwardens kept the business of the city running. Vernan hurried himself inside and ran towards a wide tunnel leading under the keep. it was here that once the Mroranons settled matters of honor with blood in the arena. But now, the Mrors lived in a civilized time, and so the circle was now one of duels of words and codices and contracts. Here the laws were unbreakable, and they only sided with those who adhered to its letter. Vernan had only been here once, and then only to observe to understand how Mror justice worked.</p><p></p><p>Today, he had no idea what to expect.</p><p></p><p>The tunnel opened up into a domed chamber, at the top tier of a ring of seats, broken by a set of stone stairs descending down the arena floor. It wasn’t terribly large, perhaps twenty paces wide. And its shape and form heralded to days of grudges drenched in blood. The floor of the former arena was circular, with high stone walls, where spectators could watch the display But instead of sand and blood, there was now a disc inset into the stone with a stylized image of stone tablets, arranged like an open book. It was decorated with colored tiles and gilt in gold; a disc that charlatans and thieves alike dreaded; an <em>Eye of Aureon</em>. A disc where falsehoods were exposed, and only truth would carry the day. Around the edge of the ring were seats and a pair of tables opposed on opposite sides of the disc. On one side of the chamber, opposite the entrance on the first tier was the Throne of Judgement, before barristers argued and a Mror Adjucate decided the outcome. This was the Circle of Adamant, the court of law of the Mror.</p><p></p><p>The room already was occupied with onlookers, interested in the day’s proceedings. The crowd was sparse; it would take a murder or something sordid to fill the seats. Vernan made his way down the steps to the first tier, reserved for people involved in cases. As he did so, he was waved over to an open seat by a familiar face. Vernan quickly descended and sat next to Paron.</p><p></p><p>“This is your fault isn’t it?” Paron whispered. “I couldn’t even finish my coffee this morning.”</p><p></p><p>“My fault? I had a dwarf banging on my door just after First Bell, waking me straight to a hangover,” Vernan whispered back.</p><p></p><p>Paron regarded the dwarf with a confused look. “Wait, I thought you…then who convinced Urkiel to start up an inquiry? It would not have been Rior.”</p><p></p><p>“I have no idea,” Vernan said equally mystified. “Did you happen to find the—”</p><p></p><p>Paron waved his hand to shush the inquisitive, “Its all here,” and he pointed at the seat on his other side, with a stack of binders and papers. “And more, but I don’t see how that helps anyone right now. What on Eberron are we doing here?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m sure it will…become…clear,” Vernan said as he looked into the stands across from him. There seated in the fifth tier sat a woman, thoughtfully looking at the Circle’s floor. Her raven tresses loose around her bare shoulders. Her cloak was unfastened and laid on the back of the seat, exposing her blue dress. Her legs were crossed and her right leg was kicking back and forth. She then turned her head, and her piercing blue eyes locked with Vernan’s and she gave him a secretive smile.</p><p></p><p>“Vernan what are…what is <em>she</em> doing here?” Paron whispered. Vernan said nothing, shaking his head, when a booming voice sounded from behind the Throne.</p><p></p><p>“All rise, for Urkiel Mroranon, Adjucate of the proceedings!”</p><p></p><p>The crowd rose, and Paron looked around at the floor puzzled. “Where are the barristers? This is an odd—”</p><p></p><p>“—Its an inquiry, not a criminal proceeding,” Vernan said quietly. “The Adjucate is the one asking questions today.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel Mroranon, emerged from a door behind the Throne. In his hand he carried a large maul, with the broad flat head resting on the ground. Sitting down, he raised up the maul, and let the mallet head strike a bell, embedded in the floor next to him, causing it to peal with a rich deep tone that resonated in the Circle.</p><p></p><p>“Bring her.”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>The dwarf Barnas opened the door in front of me, and gently nudged me to move. I took a deep breath and strode forward into the room. I was on edge; the room reminded me of several dueling pits in Sigil, but instead of spikes on the tops of the walls, or racks of weapons to be used, there were a pair of tables and chairs, surrounded by grey stone walls. Looking up I saw that the chamber was richly adorned with red tapestries that hung behind the small crowd looking down at me.</p><p></p><p>I swallowed, and continued forward, barefoot and still in the same tunic I was first imprisoned in. I had cleaned it and myself as best I could, but I somehow felt dirty, and exposed here. I was nervous; this was what I wanted. And yet I wasn’t sure how my gambit was going to play. It was a risk, as I knew nothing about the people or the rules. All I knew that this <em>Eye of Aureon</em> forced the truth to be told. And I hoped truth would be enough.</p><p></p><p>I entered the arena and Barnas stood by the door, while I proceeded onto the disc in the center. As I did, I could feel a shift in the magical fabric around me. I felt a little light headed, and as I turned, I realized that even thinking about lying was very hard. The compulsion to be honest was almost overpowering and almost unnatural. Like a part of me that I could use was suddenly taken away. I faced at Urkiel, now seated above and looking down at me. I wasn’t afraid of him, but his position above me did nothing to calm me. I took a deep breath and looked up at him and waited.</p><p></p><p>“This is an inquiry, to answer a number of questions relevant to the safety and security of Krona Peak. You will answer my questions. Any evasion will be known. And avoiding questions will force me to assume the worst possible outcome. Do you understand?”</p><p></p><p>I nodded silently and waited.</p><p></p><p>“What is your given name?”</p><p></p><p>I furrowed my brow for a moment before answering. But I raised my voice so the observers in the gallery heard me. “I do not know what name I was given. I have called myself ‘Myrai’ for over twenty years.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel cocked his head as he heard my answer, and then continued. “You do not know your own given name?”</p><p></p><p>“No, I was given to an orphanage, and if I had one, I was never told.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf nodded, “And where was this orphanage?”</p><p></p><p>“It was the Gatehouse, located in the Hive district, in the city of Sigil,” I said. The crowd muttered in confusion.</p><p></p><p>“Sigil…and where is that exactly?”</p><p></p><p>“Exactly?...um…it can be seen floating over the Spire, in the Outlands, sometimes called the ‘Plane of Concordant Opposition.’” All to more murmurs and whispers.</p><p></p><p>“What is she talking about?</p><p></p><p>“She must be lying…”</p><p></p><p>“…the Eye?...”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel lifted and dropped the head of the maul again, sounding the bell causing the crowd to quiet down. “So, you came from Sigil to here?”</p><p></p><p>This was going to be complicated. “No,” I said. “I left Sigil months ago and was on…on a world called Toril. There I was pushed into a well and fell…and landed on a table here.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel leaned forward looking me with doubt, “A…well?”</p><p></p><p>I sighed, “In the well, was a portal. A portal that drew me to here…Eberron. I didn’t call it; I didn’t even know it was in the well as I fell. But it is how I arrived here.”</p><p></p><p>“And you said this to the team interrogating you. Are they here now?”</p><p></p><p>I looked around, and there in the first tier, I saw the Dwarf and the Gnome sitting together and watching. As my eyes locked onto them, they looked at each other.</p><p></p><p>“In the seats, Vernan and Paron were two of them. The third I don’t—”</p><p></p><p>“<strong><em>STOP THIS!</em></strong>” a voice thundered and rushing down the stairs into the pit was the very dwarf who was responsible for my imprisonment. The dwarf pushed himself down past the guards, until he was standing, in full arms and armaments next to my barely covered self.</p><p></p><p>“This criminal has <strong><em>no</em></strong> right to be here! I demand she be remanded to me and punished!” he yelled at the top of his lungs in the arena.</p><p></p><p>“What, there’s something <em>worse</em> than the prison you were going to ship me to?” I spat facing Rior. “All for your—”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf turned towards me his face red with anger, “I do not have to…wait. You are speaking the trade tongue now. How—?"</p><p></p><p>“Unlike some others here, I listen and learn,” I said taking a step forward towards him glaring. As my words echoed in the arena, I heard chuckles in the stands surrounding it.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t have to answer to you, criminal!”</p><p></p><p>“You do have to answer to me!” Urkiel growled. “Was she to be sent there and why?”</p><p></p><p>Rior’s eyes narrowed into slits of hate, before turning to the Adjucate. “Simple. She was a spy in an area for only Mror citizens—” As he spoke I could hear more muttering from the crowd.</p><p></p><p>“—I was not spying—” I said my hands clenched in anger, glaring at him.</p><p></p><p>“—She was indigent, unable to pay House Jorasco.” Rior continued.</p><p></p><p>“—I haven’t been asked to even pay a—” I interjected.</p><p></p><p>“—And she’s a murderer.” He said with grim finality.</p><p></p><p>The crowd was suddenly silent, and I could feel their eyes upon me as I stood there, my confidence fading.</p><p></p><p>“She had enough blood on her armor that someone didn’t survive. And that isn’t all. You killed a fellow prisoner, Iryn Boromar for his pipeweed. Your hair was found on the dead halfling this morning, and the weed was burned in your cell, all a part your escape plane, to avoid Mror justice.” The crowd again whispered at the revelation that I had escaped; that I might be dangerous.</p><p></p><p>“Your fanciful delusions are just dressing for a broken mind; a dangerous, deadly one. That’s <em>why</em> I decided to send her to Dreadhold.” He said smirking.</p><p></p><p>I was speechless. Trapped by my actions on one death, and on circumstance on the second. And he found a flaw in my plan. While I supposedly couldn’t lie, I realized now that it wasn’t total absolution. If I was seen as someone that was barmy, it wouldn’t matter what I said.</p><p></p><p>Or did it?</p><p></p><p>“Yes. I killed Eridan bin Ahoone,” I said slowly, and the crowd’s murmuring rose again. “He was in ill health, and the crossbow quarrel in him was…” I trailed off a second and I felt the emotions surrounding his death wash over me, and my eyes started to water. “He…<em>asked</em> me in the name of our god to…send him to his final reward. As a priestess of Kelemvor I had to honor his request.” I turned to look at Rior again. “As for Iryn, he chose his own fate, and all I did was let him go. I could have saved him, but he stayed my hand and—”</p><p></p><p>“—So, you killed him in the name of a false god.” Rior sneered.</p><p></p><p>I gritted my teeth and my anger rose. Without a thought I pulled on a light strand, “How…<strong><em>DARE</em></strong>…you!” my voice boomed in the hall, far beyond my lung’s capacity. Rior took a step backwards in surprise. “I am a loyal servant of my god, and you will <strong><em>NOT </em></strong><em>mock </em>him,” and I then pulled a dark strand, and the chamber shook with tremors. Everyone looked around in alarm, wondering if the quake was serious enough to warrant escaping to the surface.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t care if you <em>think</em>,” I spat my voice booming through the hall, “that I am out of my mind. That you <em>think</em> I’m a threat. But I am devout to his tenets, and to call my ministrations to the dying, murder…is <strong><em>BLASPHEMY!”</em> </strong>I stood up straight, shivering in my anger and passion. My heart was pumping, as my blood coursed through me.</p><p></p><p>Rior was surprised but he swiftly recovered, “Simple tricks for a charlatan. It changes…nothing about your…fantasies, nor my assessment of you being a threat. Your stories’ entertainment does nothing to mitigate your danger.”</p><p></p><p>“Pardon…my Lord Urkiel,” said a voice in the stands. I turned in surprise and saw the gnome who had attended my interrogation had stood and was waving a hand towards Urkiel trying to grab his attention. “If I may enter the fray on the floor, I have…relevant information on this matter.”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel was about to respond, when Rior turned and yelled at the gnome, “Your responsibility is to document, not provide evidence—”</p><p></p><p>“<strong>That</strong> would be true if this was about a crime,” Urkiel raised his voice only slightly, silencing Rior. “But this is an inquiry, and where I want information, I get it. Please, Paron d’Sivis.” And Urkiel gestured to the floor.</p><p></p><p>The gnome made his way to the bottom of the chamber, standing tall and proud. He stepped in from of Rior and I and then spoke,”</p><p></p><p>“When the woman known here as Myrai kept talking about a strange city called Sigil, it seemed like a fantastical place, borne from the tongue of a bard telling a children’s tale and nothing more. But she was insistent on its existence, and so I decided if this was a tale, then someone else must have recorded it. I contacted a colleague at the Library of Korranberg and made an inquiry.”</p><p></p><p>The gnome turned to look at me, “Imagine to my surprise, to find out that her tale is true,” and the observers gasped.</p><p></p><p>My heart skipped a beat. Planewalkers <em>had</em> been here before. I felt a smile creep on my face as he continued talking to the crowd, as much as Urkiel, playing up the drama now on display.</p><p></p><p>“During the Last War, around 956 there was a visitor to the city of Sharn, a rare species from Kythri known as a Githzerai. While I am not clear on the circumstances of his visit, he did stop at Morgrave University and had told a small gathering of professors of planes beyond our Orery, and he did talk about a ‘City of Doors,’” and he turned to look at me, with the barest nodding of his head. “Sigil.”</p><p></p><p>“Preposterous!” Rior growled. “Tale fit for a low bar and nothing more,”</p><p></p><p>“I would not call into question the learned members of that institution. Nor House Orien who I understood spent coin investigating the tales. And the information he left was verified by that House with magical aid. But while interesting, Orien could do nothing with what they learned. And with the War on, the Brelish, focused on matters at hand and the tale was forgotten by most. Except to a visiting scholar from Zilargo, who recorded it in his journal, which was donated to the Library in 973. But those are unimportant details.”</p><p></p><p>The gnome spun and looked up at me with a smile.</p><p></p><p>“Who is the central leader of Sigil?” he demanded.</p><p></p><p>I was somewhere between relief and tears of joy and I was never happier to utter her name.</p><p></p><p>“The Lady of Pain. She sets the ground rules and keeps the powers out.”</p><p></p><p>“Who is that person’s servants?”</p><p></p><p>“Her servants are called Dabus, they repair and fix the city,” my smile widening.</p><p></p><p>“What language do they speak?”</p><p></p><p>I laughed and a tear poured down my cheek, “While they can understand anyone, they don’t speak. They communicate in rebuses like this,” and I held out my hand and thought, and in golden shining lines I used a light strand to create a series of symbols. There on my hand I created three objects; a target with an arrow lodged in its frame, a piece of meat and a crowned male head. “That’s how they would say ‘mistaking’”</p><p></p><p>Paron turned to Uriel, “There are more examples, but I assert this is a real place, based on the evidence from the Library of Korranberg,” and he placed a binder on a table to the side.</p><p></p><p>Rior’s mouth was clenched, and then he gave a wide grin, “You understand my…reluctance to believe her. It changes nothing; she still was not where she was supposed to be, and your attempted escape is further proof of your guilt! It is fortunate that we caught you before you could disappear and cause more mischief.”</p><p></p><p>“Really?” my tone incredulous. “I escaped your cell because you never intended me to stand on this <em>Eye of Aureon.</em> You said, ‘I wasn’t a Mror and had no right to stand here!’” I gestured at the disc I stood upon. “So, I did escape and turned myself into a Mror who would at least consider listening to me. Because if I hadn’t’, you would have just sent me to rot in the Dreadhold.”</p><p></p><p>The instant that prison’s name left my lips, the chamber went silent. It was like I said something forbidden, or something so horrific that the mere mention of it was like a curse.</p><p></p><p>Rior didn’t flinch, he just stared at me with that same look of contempt, “I am charged with keeping Krona Peak secure. And what you had to say—"</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps we should discuss this further?” came a gruff voice, and I now saw that the dwarf, Vernan stood. “If I may, the House Kundarak has had an interest in the matter of security. But during my investigation of the risks the woman represents, I found something…unexpected. If I may?”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel rested his right elbow on the arm of his seat and rubbed his temple, “Why not? I cannot wait to hear this.”</p><p></p><p>Vernan walked down into the ring below and, took a spot in front of Rior and I, as Paron sat down on a chair near a table. Rior’s hate for Vernan was on full display here, but I was lost as anyone observing my fate today.</p><p></p><p>“House Kundarak was concerned very much about any breach of security here and asked me to look into the risk to their business. Listening to the woman, there was indeed a risk, portals in thin air? Vaults could be breached; defenses compromised. But what I found was far more sinister,” and Vernan walked up and he stared at me straight in the eye, with a look of distaste. I was going to interject when I saw he did something and held my tongue.</p><p></p><p>He winked at me.</p><p></p><p>“Now, there are many ways to compromise security,” he said as he turned to the crowd. Rior’s eyes were narrowed, as he listened, trying to follow the logic of the Inquisitive. “And in our experience in security, the best way to compromise the integrity of a fortress, or a bank, is best accomplished from the inside. Naturally, portals or other magical conveyances are well known types of breaches, that are looked for regularly. But imagine to my surprise that I found a very different kind of breach.”</p><p></p><p>He turned and looked at Rior dead in the face. “A breach of trust.” As those words escaped his lips, I saw Rior’s breathing quicken and his face pale. I was by comparison confused, as I listened to this tale.</p><p></p><p>“What I found was this. Certain people, criminals mostly would be sent to the Dreadhold. And of course, Mroranon would fund the expense at the…recommendations of security. They would fund the contract’s five-year term to Soldorak. Then they would ship off the criminal and send a cancellation notice to House Kundarak. Soldorak then would pay for the first year and some penalty fees. But Soldorak somehow failed to mention that cancellation to Mroranon and failed to mention that they were owed monies back, about half of the total five year sum. “</p><p></p><p>Rior’s face became as white as a sheet, and his breathing labored as he looked around like a trapped cranium rat.</p><p></p><p>Urkiel had leaned forward, fully engaged in the tale being told in the ring, his face grave as he looked at Rior. “I assume that you have more than a fancy tale here,” Urkiel said his voice seething.</p><p></p><p>Vernan nodded, “Indeed. After consulting with House Sivis, we…” his voice trailed off, and with that Paron jumped up and spoke to Urkiel and the crowd again.</p><p></p><p>“Yes…by looking at the accounts of all three we found all the connecting paperwork. By looking at only Mroranon and Kundarak accounts, nothing was amiss. Only if you look at Clan Soldorak’s documents in between can you see what really happened with the coin,” and Paron placed the second larger binder on the table.</p><p></p><p>“And who better to use, but people that otherwise would be unlooked for?” Vernan said with contempt. “Iryn Boromar was on the outs of his family and was dying. If he disappeared, his family wouldn’t look for him, and as for this woman? Insane or not, she had no friends to call to help her out. If they survived, both would have been abandoned somewhere in the Lhazaar Principalities, unlikely to return to Krona Peak counting their blessings.”</p><p></p><p>The crowd hissed in disapproval and the murmuring grew. Rior looked around for support, but even the Soldorak guards stationed there, looked at him with contempt.</p><p></p><p>“So, Rior. Is this true?” Urkiel asked the hapless dwarf. “Did you betray Mroranon’s trust?”</p><p></p><p>The sweat was now pouring from his brow. He stood looking around nervously as he tried to speak, “I…well…that is…perhaps…I should talk to—”</p><p></p><p>Urkiel lifted the maul with his left hand and let it drop again, causing the bell to peal. “This is your last chance Rior Soldorak.”</p><p></p><p>Rior’s back stiffened, and he raised his head, “I think I will wait for a…formal hearing on this before answering.”</p><p></p><p>“Such is your right, as this would be a…crime against coin and contract,” Urkiel said, his hate for the little dwarf that once stood defiantly before him. “Take him away.”</p><p></p><p>Two Soldorak guards grabbed their former boss’ arms, and led him down the tunnel, descending beneath the Throne. He never turned to look at me, and I truly hoped we would never meet again. Then Urkiel addressed me.</p><p></p><p>“It seems your visit here has…made an impact. But, by my authority as Adjucate, let me be the first to welcome you to the Mror Holds.”</p><p></p><p>And I heard applause in the rings of seats around the arena. The observers were standing and clapping…for me. I felt was overwhelmed with various emotions, relief exhaustion, joy. But as I turned around one figure caught my eye. A woman still seated in a blue dress, her long dark tresses loose around her shoulders, her skin a pale white, and she looked at me with piercing blue eyes. She was slowly clapping as she wore a crooked smile on her face, and she nodded as she realized I was staring at her.</p><p></p><p>“You…Myrai, owe us a tour of your escape. I am very eager to hear of it,” Vernan said grasping my forearm and shaking it. Paron looked at me smiling, “As am I. I think it took Vernan a month to break out of here the first time.”</p><p></p><p>I turned to look at the dwarf and he shrugged, “The best way to test it is to, get incarcerated. It is also how I got work from Kundarak; they respect thinkers.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” I said, and I summoned Gossamer from his hiding spot. At his appearance the pair looked at each other nodding with a smile. “But before we do so, is it possible I get dressed?” The pair started to laugh as I continued. “I feel like I ‘m going to show people more than they should see in this tunic.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s get your things, and then some food.”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>After getting dressed, I answered a lot of questions and I saw I had earned a lot of respect. Not because I escaped, but that I stayed and explained what I did and how. I apparently impressed a lot of them with my ingenuity and had them question many of their own assumptions. The familiar. The <em>Apocrypha</em>. The spittoon. All of it. And while some of the escape were only things I could do, they knew if I could, someone else might. But other things like where the key was kept, the guards, the patrols, the windows, and the sewer. Those were things that a dwarf called a ‘Silver Key’ was looking at and planning changes. However, his glares at me told me that not everyone appreciated my efforts.</p><p></p><p>Paron and Vernan then introduced me to the woman who healed me, Mylle d’Jorasco. I explained to her that I was an Aasimar, as that was the first question out of her mouth, just after the hug. And then I surprised them all again. While they all knew I had only a handful of coins on me, they didn’t realize I had a lot more wealth hidden, as I pulled several gemstones from…well that’s a secret. But I had enough to pay Mylle for saving my life, sight unseen. But she made an observation, and she was right, there was another person I needed to thank.</p><p></p><p>I ducked and entered the large hall of ‘<em>The Patternwelded Blade.’</em>. I knew I was underground somewhere, but the large open space was a surprise. Well lit, it felt bigger than the caverns underneath Lathander. It was nothing like the grim gray of the Duergar, nor the haphazard collection of bits of sea junk, like the drow there had scavenged for their casino. But what made it comfortable was the smell. I could smell the fermented grains and sharp tang of hops in the air. I shook my head and wondered, how on I never managed to go to any of the dwarfholds in Toril. I liked the beers, the ales and whiskey more than the wines and cordials of the elves. And here, I was in the heart of someone’s art and love. It was the closest thing that felt like the bars I once frequented in Sigil.</p><p></p><p>As I entered with Vernan and Goss flitting on his wings behind me, I saw the puzzlement of the regulars there, at the intruder to their retreat. I looked around, and I saw a dwarven woman approach with an angry face and a frying pan in hand.</p><p></p><p>“You there! This is a Mror establishment only! And no pets! How did you get past…the…no…it’s you!”</p><p></p><p>My hands were clutched together in front of me as I spoke smiling, “You must be Igneve.”</p><p></p><p>She looked at me in wonder her mouth still open as I continued. “I’m here to thank you for getting me to the healer, and I seem to owe you for a table.”</p><p></p><p>Igneve blinked a moment, and chuckled, “Now, we’ve lost many things, but I don’t recall losing a table in a more spectacular way. In fact, I don’t want it repaired.” And she pointed behind me.</p><p></p><p>I turned to look, and I started to laugh. There mounted on the wall, was a round table top. On it I could see the impression of a lightly armored torso, and marks of blood around it.</p><p></p><p>“See, ever since you spoke at the Circle, I had people coming in to gawk. Made sense to mount it like a trophy. Business has picked up once the guards left, so I can’t say fixing it really helps me much.”</p><p></p><p>I walked over to the round, and let my fingers run over the surface…over the dried blood that covered it. My throat tightened, as I knew that the blood wasn’t mine. I closed my eyes and whispered to myself, “Rest well Eridan.” I then turned around to look at Igneve again, “Well, I guess that is one way to say I was here. Well if I can’t pay to fix it, how about a drink? Something strong, but won’t kill a non-Mror?”</p><p></p><p>“That I can do! Give me a moment!”</p><p></p><p>“No problem,” I said. “Vernan needs to show me where I fell from.”</p><p></p><p>“It’ll be waiting when you come back down; you might have to tell us a tale or two.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded, and Vernan led me up the spiral ramp. It wasn’t a steep grade, but it did take a while to reach the top. And there as I expected was an opening, framed in stone. Sighing, I started to pull on a light strand whispering to myself. Vernan watched me, and eventually I opened my eyes and looked at the opening.</p><p></p><p>It was almost gone; the spider like cracks of a planar breach, had almost faded away. There weren’t any signs of twisting or decay, and most importantly to me, there was no knot or anchor.</p><p></p><p>There was nothing there.</p><p></p><p>I hung my head and pounded my fist on the wall. “It’s not just closed. Its moved. Gone.”</p><p></p><p>Vernan looked at me critically. “So, no one else can use it?”</p><p></p><p>“It’s not even a one-way portal, there isn’t anything to use. The other end could be fixed, but this end? It wasn’t. I passed through, broke the planar surface and fell. And then it must have moved elsewhere. "</p><p></p><p>"So, you can’t go home?”</p><p></p><p>I shook my head, “Toril wasn’t home. And not to say I wanted to go back to a den of pirates and slavers. So perhaps not being able to go back isn’t a bad thing. Still,” and I touched the stone frame of the window. “It would have been nice to have a choice. And there are…things left undone and unsaid. But, I swear the next time I get dumped on another plane, the fall is going to kill me.” And I turned and started to walk back down to the bar below.</p><p></p><p>“Well,” Vernan said. “I’m sure things will work out for you. At least that’s what my gut is telling me. You have a place to stay?”</p><p></p><p>“I nodded,” Paron gave me the name of a…Ghallanda inn, the ‘Gold Dragon’? Another House I understand, so much to learn. Anyway, he said he would get me a room there, and to expect a package in the morning.”</p><p></p><p>Vernan nodded, “Well, at least you aren’t broke. What are you planning to do?”</p><p></p><p>I grimaced, “I might stay here a bit, but I keep hearing about Sharn. I don’t know much, but Sharn seems to have a lot going for it.”</p><p></p><p>Vernan nodded, “Well, I don’t know how it compares to Sigil or Waterdunk—”</p><p></p><p>“—Waterdeep.”</p><p></p><p>“Whatever. But you could do worse than to visit. But it’s across the continent, so you might need some coin to get there.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded, “I guess a job of some sort is in order. But I’m not a miner, and I don’t know if fighting on the lines of a battle is…what I should do.”</p><p></p><p>Vernan gave me an odd smile. “I bet something will come up. Gold Dragon inn eh? Well I wish you well Myrai. Good luck!”</p><p></p><p>We had arrived back down at the bar and Igneve waved me over. Already a small throng had gathered to meet the strange newcomer, who’s silhouette decorated a table top on the wall. “Can’t stay for a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you” I said.</p><p></p><p>“You’re welcome, but I can’t. I have a report to finish, and I have to meet…a friend for tea.” Vernan smiled, and pulled up the lapels of his duster, and left me to my new found bar flies here in Krona Peak.</p><p></p><p><em>--Well, I guess this is a good a start as any.</em></p><p></p><p>I looked at the Tressym and shaking my head I scratched him behind the ears.</p><p></p><p><em>New world, new challenges. I guess this does make me a planewalker now.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Yeah, just ease up on the drinking tonight.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Not on your life. I earned this!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Right..sure…we’ll see about that tomorrow.</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p>In many ways this was an interlude; a session zero or 0.1 for getting Myrai established. But her's was a bit more complicated than the other characters, who were all generated and natives to Eberron.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8125202, member: 6971069"] [HEADING=1][CENTER] The Bargain - 11/12/2020[/CENTER] [/HEADING] Urkiel Mroranon growled with frustration. There was always more to be done, and it would be early mornings and long days for a while. Normally filling a garrison with Mror was never a problem; the Realm Below had much to reward the intrepid and the brave. Until Skollhanker started luring strong Mrors of all types, warriors, smiths, masons with the tales of gold from the Sieve. Gold fever had the Mrors aflame with greed and sloth. Hard honorable work below didn’t appeal as much as a swift march above for easy coin. Easy to lure battle hardened Mror with a share of a mine. A mine not touched since the early days of the Last War. You would think that nuggets were just waiting there, in easy reach in the tunnels. Nevermind that the Jhorash’tar infested the mine with their filth. But once done, the Mror would come back. All Urkiel could do was wait for the madness to pass. But the work still needed doing, and so Urkiel had arrived early yet, before the sound of First Bell. The spring chill gripped the stone in its cold embrace. Few of the garrison staff were present, only the thin number of guards on the Fourth Watch. He supposed that his aide-de-camp Barnas wasn’t even in yet. But truth be told, Urkiel got more done the hours before First Bell, than he would with the constant interruptions of complaints. The Soldorak guards were never going to get along with the few Mroranon men still here on the surface. And while Urkiel was nominally in charge; the Soldorak were hired to do a job for Mroranon. And as long as it was adequate, he could ignore the complaints. Urkiel entered the antechamber of his office he passed the still armor stands, and the empty desk of Barnas. And without pausing he opened the door to his own office. He stepped inside and sighed happily. The morning light from the east painted the stone walls, and slate roofs of Krona, in a dim orange glow. While the sun was still below the Iron Roots for now, by the tolling of the bell, the rays of the sun, would light up the stone and the gold leaf that adorned many of the buildings. Urkiel wasn’t really much for sentiment; but the morning glow of the gold made a Mror’s chest swell in pride. But the view was far from Urkiel’s mind, as he felt warmth of the fire gently soak into his bones. The fireplace was ablaze with flame, its heat already spread throughout the room, and dulling the chill from the glass. The weather was always cool but for a spring, it was unseasonably cold. Urkiel unstrapped his hammer from his belt and placed it on the desk and was about to sit, when he realized something was amiss. If Barnas wasn’t at his desk, how was it that the fireplace was already lit? Urkiel barely had a moment to think about it when he heard a stirring. There seated in a stuffed leather chair was the figure of a person curled up upon it. Staring a moment, he saw that they had hair like gold, drifting to below the shoulders, and lightly browned skin, a human female. In her hand was a book from his shelf, one that talked about the key battles of the Last War, and how the Karrns had overplayed their hand in fighting against Thrane. As he looked at her, he realized that she wore a threadbare tunic of a prisoner, Then she looked up and smiled at him, and as her gaze met his, he was suddenly certain of one thing. She was no human. He saw himself in her eyes, which were like polished mirrors. “I take it, that it is near…First Bell, correct?” she said softly in the trade language, unconcerned as Urkiel gripped his hammer with his right hand. “And I assume you must be Urkiel of Clan Mroranon…or did I have that reversed?” Urkiel blinked puzzled, and replied with his own question, “You…you must be the one that we caught spying down below. How did you get in here…no how did you get out of your cell?” he growled, suddenly concerned. The woman didn’t react to the question, and instead set his book on a table next to her. She looked at the Mror calmly before speaking again. “If spying includes falling and crushing a table, certainly. Otherwise not really. You [I]are[/I]…Urkiel correct?” Confused he stammered, “You are correct, Mroranon is the Clan name, and I am Urkiel,” The woman nodded and smiled, “Good, I am pleased to meet you.” She looked around and straightened herself up in the chair. “I’ve been looking forward to—” “—To what? Using me in your escape? You have severely—” “—No.” she interrupted shaking her head. “No, I am not escaping. I am here to…make a deal…a bargain with you.” “You are unarmed, and you are not in a position to make any demands.” Urkiel growled, narrowing his eyes at the strange woman who casually and calmly sat in his office. To his surprised, she nodded. “You are right. I am not in position to make demands. Which is why here to make an offer,” she said simply, her hands folded in front of her. “I have no intent to run and hide.” Urkiel’s anger settled and he looked at the woman with curiosity. “Alright what do you want then?” “A fair chance.” “What do you mean?” The woman took a deep breath. “I have been a guest for some time, and yet none seem to believe a word I say. So, I want you to question me.” “I have heard that you are concealing the truth of things.” “No, I have not. And that’s why I want you to question me on the…[I]Eye of Aureon[/I]. You, and the others, Paron and Vernan. They can confirm that I have not changed a word.” “So, you said you wanted to bargain? What are you offering?” “I will tell you on that same Eye, how I escaped your prison, and found my way to see you.” Urkiel smirked at the strange woman, when the door burst open and a blonde haired, bearded dwarf ran inside. “Sir! The prisoners! The Soldoraks tell me that the spy escaped! And—” “—And the other one is dead,” the woman said startling the aide, who twisted around, and grabbed for an axe at his side. Urkiel then lifted his hand and shook his head. “Suppose you know something about that?” he said evenly. The woman sighed, looking down, softly nodding. “I would, and you can ask me on the eye if you like.” She then looked at the aide and then lifted up her arms and put her wrists together. Urkiel shook his head, “If you were going to run, you wouldn’t be here. And I am curious…on what exactly you are going to say.” [HR][/HR] Paron d’Sivis picked up his satchel and downed another cup of coffee, grimacing. “Who overheated the kettle? Tastes like it came out of a—” “—Paron! This is a catastrophe!” Benfiq said rushing into the room with a bundle. “Our own procedures made us blind to all of this! I suspect we are going to be buried in audits for years! YEARS!! Paron sighed “Sadly yes. I guess we can take some solace that we found it now. Later it would be been much worse. Anyway, I need to get ready for that interrogation. Should be the last day of it and then I can help—” “—Paron, sir!” a younger gnome; a new clerk Paron remembered named Ulden came rushing up with a slip of paper. “What [B][I]is [/I][/B]it today…yes?” Paron replied annoyed. “You’ve been summoned to the Circle of Adamant at once!” the excited clerk said. “What? Now? Who sent the summons?” and Paron ripped away the slip from the clerk, and his expression became more puzzled as he read who issued the demand, just as Ulden voiced it. “Urkiel Mroranon. It’s about that int—” “What just happened?!? Urkiel wants to go back to war, not deal with common crimes…unless…Flinders! Benfiq, I am going to need those files now,” and Paron snatched the large bundle from his cousin. “And count on me missing my shift. This is getting serious.” And Paron started to rush to the back entrance to avoid the throng gathering for message services at the front. “Wait!” Benfiq called, causing Paron to stop short. “You have a message that came in last night!” “I will look at it later! I’m going to—” “Its from Korranberg!” and Benfiq ran over to a bin holding received documents. He grabbed a thick stack of papers and ran it to Paron. Paron put down the bundle and he started to flip through the pages, his eyes growing wider with each turn. “By the Sovereign!” [HR][/HR] Vernan jogged along the cobblestones toward the Old Keep. Naturally it took its name from the fact it was one of oldest part of the Peak. Back when it perched over the mines and overlooked the passes for marauding Clansmen looking to take the hard work of the Mroranon’s. Back before the Clansmen were subdued, and the Clans became princes of industry. Now the bailey stood wide open, and the hearthwardens kept the business of the city running. Vernan hurried himself inside and ran towards a wide tunnel leading under the keep. it was here that once the Mroranons settled matters of honor with blood in the arena. But now, the Mrors lived in a civilized time, and so the circle was now one of duels of words and codices and contracts. Here the laws were unbreakable, and they only sided with those who adhered to its letter. Vernan had only been here once, and then only to observe to understand how Mror justice worked. Today, he had no idea what to expect. The tunnel opened up into a domed chamber, at the top tier of a ring of seats, broken by a set of stone stairs descending down the arena floor. It wasn’t terribly large, perhaps twenty paces wide. And its shape and form heralded to days of grudges drenched in blood. The floor of the former arena was circular, with high stone walls, where spectators could watch the display But instead of sand and blood, there was now a disc inset into the stone with a stylized image of stone tablets, arranged like an open book. It was decorated with colored tiles and gilt in gold; a disc that charlatans and thieves alike dreaded; an [I]Eye of Aureon[/I]. A disc where falsehoods were exposed, and only truth would carry the day. Around the edge of the ring were seats and a pair of tables opposed on opposite sides of the disc. On one side of the chamber, opposite the entrance on the first tier was the Throne of Judgement, before barristers argued and a Mror Adjucate decided the outcome. This was the Circle of Adamant, the court of law of the Mror. The room already was occupied with onlookers, interested in the day’s proceedings. The crowd was sparse; it would take a murder or something sordid to fill the seats. Vernan made his way down the steps to the first tier, reserved for people involved in cases. As he did so, he was waved over to an open seat by a familiar face. Vernan quickly descended and sat next to Paron. “This is your fault isn’t it?” Paron whispered. “I couldn’t even finish my coffee this morning.” “My fault? I had a dwarf banging on my door just after First Bell, waking me straight to a hangover,” Vernan whispered back. Paron regarded the dwarf with a confused look. “Wait, I thought you…then who convinced Urkiel to start up an inquiry? It would not have been Rior.” “I have no idea,” Vernan said equally mystified. “Did you happen to find the—” Paron waved his hand to shush the inquisitive, “Its all here,” and he pointed at the seat on his other side, with a stack of binders and papers. “And more, but I don’t see how that helps anyone right now. What on Eberron are we doing here?” “I’m sure it will…become…clear,” Vernan said as he looked into the stands across from him. There seated in the fifth tier sat a woman, thoughtfully looking at the Circle’s floor. Her raven tresses loose around her bare shoulders. Her cloak was unfastened and laid on the back of the seat, exposing her blue dress. Her legs were crossed and her right leg was kicking back and forth. She then turned her head, and her piercing blue eyes locked with Vernan’s and she gave him a secretive smile. “Vernan what are…what is [I]she[/I] doing here?” Paron whispered. Vernan said nothing, shaking his head, when a booming voice sounded from behind the Throne. “All rise, for Urkiel Mroranon, Adjucate of the proceedings!” The crowd rose, and Paron looked around at the floor puzzled. “Where are the barristers? This is an odd—” “—Its an inquiry, not a criminal proceeding,” Vernan said quietly. “The Adjucate is the one asking questions today.” Urkiel Mroranon, emerged from a door behind the Throne. In his hand he carried a large maul, with the broad flat head resting on the ground. Sitting down, he raised up the maul, and let the mallet head strike a bell, embedded in the floor next to him, causing it to peal with a rich deep tone that resonated in the Circle. “Bring her.” [HR][/HR] The dwarf Barnas opened the door in front of me, and gently nudged me to move. I took a deep breath and strode forward into the room. I was on edge; the room reminded me of several dueling pits in Sigil, but instead of spikes on the tops of the walls, or racks of weapons to be used, there were a pair of tables and chairs, surrounded by grey stone walls. Looking up I saw that the chamber was richly adorned with red tapestries that hung behind the small crowd looking down at me. I swallowed, and continued forward, barefoot and still in the same tunic I was first imprisoned in. I had cleaned it and myself as best I could, but I somehow felt dirty, and exposed here. I was nervous; this was what I wanted. And yet I wasn’t sure how my gambit was going to play. It was a risk, as I knew nothing about the people or the rules. All I knew that this [I]Eye of Aureon[/I] forced the truth to be told. And I hoped truth would be enough. I entered the arena and Barnas stood by the door, while I proceeded onto the disc in the center. As I did, I could feel a shift in the magical fabric around me. I felt a little light headed, and as I turned, I realized that even thinking about lying was very hard. The compulsion to be honest was almost overpowering and almost unnatural. Like a part of me that I could use was suddenly taken away. I faced at Urkiel, now seated above and looking down at me. I wasn’t afraid of him, but his position above me did nothing to calm me. I took a deep breath and looked up at him and waited. “This is an inquiry, to answer a number of questions relevant to the safety and security of Krona Peak. You will answer my questions. Any evasion will be known. And avoiding questions will force me to assume the worst possible outcome. Do you understand?” I nodded silently and waited. “What is your given name?” I furrowed my brow for a moment before answering. But I raised my voice so the observers in the gallery heard me. “I do not know what name I was given. I have called myself ‘Myrai’ for over twenty years.” Urkiel cocked his head as he heard my answer, and then continued. “You do not know your own given name?” “No, I was given to an orphanage, and if I had one, I was never told.” The dwarf nodded, “And where was this orphanage?” “It was the Gatehouse, located in the Hive district, in the city of Sigil,” I said. The crowd muttered in confusion. “Sigil…and where is that exactly?” “Exactly?...um…it can be seen floating over the Spire, in the Outlands, sometimes called the ‘Plane of Concordant Opposition.’” All to more murmurs and whispers. “What is she talking about? “She must be lying…” “…the Eye?...” Urkiel lifted and dropped the head of the maul again, sounding the bell causing the crowd to quiet down. “So, you came from Sigil to here?” This was going to be complicated. “No,” I said. “I left Sigil months ago and was on…on a world called Toril. There I was pushed into a well and fell…and landed on a table here.” Urkiel leaned forward looking me with doubt, “A…well?” I sighed, “In the well, was a portal. A portal that drew me to here…Eberron. I didn’t call it; I didn’t even know it was in the well as I fell. But it is how I arrived here.” “And you said this to the team interrogating you. Are they here now?” I looked around, and there in the first tier, I saw the Dwarf and the Gnome sitting together and watching. As my eyes locked onto them, they looked at each other. “In the seats, Vernan and Paron were two of them. The third I don’t—” “[B][I]STOP THIS![/I][/B]” a voice thundered and rushing down the stairs into the pit was the very dwarf who was responsible for my imprisonment. The dwarf pushed himself down past the guards, until he was standing, in full arms and armaments next to my barely covered self. “This criminal has [B][I]no[/I][/B] right to be here! I demand she be remanded to me and punished!” he yelled at the top of his lungs in the arena. “What, there’s something [I]worse[/I] than the prison you were going to ship me to?” I spat facing Rior. “All for your—” The dwarf turned towards me his face red with anger, “I do not have to…wait. You are speaking the trade tongue now. How—?" “Unlike some others here, I listen and learn,” I said taking a step forward towards him glaring. As my words echoed in the arena, I heard chuckles in the stands surrounding it. “I don’t have to answer to you, criminal!” “You do have to answer to me!” Urkiel growled. “Was she to be sent there and why?” Rior’s eyes narrowed into slits of hate, before turning to the Adjucate. “Simple. She was a spy in an area for only Mror citizens—” As he spoke I could hear more muttering from the crowd. “—I was not spying—” I said my hands clenched in anger, glaring at him. “—She was indigent, unable to pay House Jorasco.” Rior continued. “—I haven’t been asked to even pay a—” I interjected. “—And she’s a murderer.” He said with grim finality. The crowd was suddenly silent, and I could feel their eyes upon me as I stood there, my confidence fading. “She had enough blood on her armor that someone didn’t survive. And that isn’t all. You killed a fellow prisoner, Iryn Boromar for his pipeweed. Your hair was found on the dead halfling this morning, and the weed was burned in your cell, all a part your escape plane, to avoid Mror justice.” The crowd again whispered at the revelation that I had escaped; that I might be dangerous. “Your fanciful delusions are just dressing for a broken mind; a dangerous, deadly one. That’s [I]why[/I] I decided to send her to Dreadhold.” He said smirking. I was speechless. Trapped by my actions on one death, and on circumstance on the second. And he found a flaw in my plan. While I supposedly couldn’t lie, I realized now that it wasn’t total absolution. If I was seen as someone that was barmy, it wouldn’t matter what I said. Or did it? “Yes. I killed Eridan bin Ahoone,” I said slowly, and the crowd’s murmuring rose again. “He was in ill health, and the crossbow quarrel in him was…” I trailed off a second and I felt the emotions surrounding his death wash over me, and my eyes started to water. “He…[I]asked[/I] me in the name of our god to…send him to his final reward. As a priestess of Kelemvor I had to honor his request.” I turned to look at Rior again. “As for Iryn, he chose his own fate, and all I did was let him go. I could have saved him, but he stayed my hand and—” “—So, you killed him in the name of a false god.” Rior sneered. I gritted my teeth and my anger rose. Without a thought I pulled on a light strand, “How…[B][I]DARE[/I][/B]…you!” my voice boomed in the hall, far beyond my lung’s capacity. Rior took a step backwards in surprise. “I am a loyal servant of my god, and you will [B][I]NOT [/I][/B][I]mock [/I]him,” and I then pulled a dark strand, and the chamber shook with tremors. Everyone looked around in alarm, wondering if the quake was serious enough to warrant escaping to the surface. “I don’t care if you [I]think[/I],” I spat my voice booming through the hall, “that I am out of my mind. That you [I]think[/I] I’m a threat. But I am devout to his tenets, and to call my ministrations to the dying, murder…is [B][I]BLASPHEMY!”[/I] [/B]I stood up straight, shivering in my anger and passion. My heart was pumping, as my blood coursed through me. Rior was surprised but he swiftly recovered, “Simple tricks for a charlatan. It changes…nothing about your…fantasies, nor my assessment of you being a threat. Your stories’ entertainment does nothing to mitigate your danger.” “Pardon…my Lord Urkiel,” said a voice in the stands. I turned in surprise and saw the gnome who had attended my interrogation had stood and was waving a hand towards Urkiel trying to grab his attention. “If I may enter the fray on the floor, I have…relevant information on this matter.” Urkiel was about to respond, when Rior turned and yelled at the gnome, “Your responsibility is to document, not provide evidence—” “[B]That[/B] would be true if this was about a crime,” Urkiel raised his voice only slightly, silencing Rior. “But this is an inquiry, and where I want information, I get it. Please, Paron d’Sivis.” And Urkiel gestured to the floor. The gnome made his way to the bottom of the chamber, standing tall and proud. He stepped in from of Rior and I and then spoke,” “When the woman known here as Myrai kept talking about a strange city called Sigil, it seemed like a fantastical place, borne from the tongue of a bard telling a children’s tale and nothing more. But she was insistent on its existence, and so I decided if this was a tale, then someone else must have recorded it. I contacted a colleague at the Library of Korranberg and made an inquiry.” The gnome turned to look at me, “Imagine to my surprise, to find out that her tale is true,” and the observers gasped. My heart skipped a beat. Planewalkers [I]had[/I] been here before. I felt a smile creep on my face as he continued talking to the crowd, as much as Urkiel, playing up the drama now on display. “During the Last War, around 956 there was a visitor to the city of Sharn, a rare species from Kythri known as a Githzerai. While I am not clear on the circumstances of his visit, he did stop at Morgrave University and had told a small gathering of professors of planes beyond our Orery, and he did talk about a ‘City of Doors,’” and he turned to look at me, with the barest nodding of his head. “Sigil.” “Preposterous!” Rior growled. “Tale fit for a low bar and nothing more,” “I would not call into question the learned members of that institution. Nor House Orien who I understood spent coin investigating the tales. And the information he left was verified by that House with magical aid. But while interesting, Orien could do nothing with what they learned. And with the War on, the Brelish, focused on matters at hand and the tale was forgotten by most. Except to a visiting scholar from Zilargo, who recorded it in his journal, which was donated to the Library in 973. But those are unimportant details.” The gnome spun and looked up at me with a smile. “Who is the central leader of Sigil?” he demanded. I was somewhere between relief and tears of joy and I was never happier to utter her name. “The Lady of Pain. She sets the ground rules and keeps the powers out.” “Who is that person’s servants?” “Her servants are called Dabus, they repair and fix the city,” my smile widening. “What language do they speak?” I laughed and a tear poured down my cheek, “While they can understand anyone, they don’t speak. They communicate in rebuses like this,” and I held out my hand and thought, and in golden shining lines I used a light strand to create a series of symbols. There on my hand I created three objects; a target with an arrow lodged in its frame, a piece of meat and a crowned male head. “That’s how they would say ‘mistaking’” Paron turned to Uriel, “There are more examples, but I assert this is a real place, based on the evidence from the Library of Korranberg,” and he placed a binder on a table to the side. Rior’s mouth was clenched, and then he gave a wide grin, “You understand my…reluctance to believe her. It changes nothing; she still was not where she was supposed to be, and your attempted escape is further proof of your guilt! It is fortunate that we caught you before you could disappear and cause more mischief.” “Really?” my tone incredulous. “I escaped your cell because you never intended me to stand on this [I]Eye of Aureon.[/I] You said, ‘I wasn’t a Mror and had no right to stand here!’” I gestured at the disc I stood upon. “So, I did escape and turned myself into a Mror who would at least consider listening to me. Because if I hadn’t’, you would have just sent me to rot in the Dreadhold.” The instant that prison’s name left my lips, the chamber went silent. It was like I said something forbidden, or something so horrific that the mere mention of it was like a curse. Rior didn’t flinch, he just stared at me with that same look of contempt, “I am charged with keeping Krona Peak secure. And what you had to say—" “Perhaps we should discuss this further?” came a gruff voice, and I now saw that the dwarf, Vernan stood. “If I may, the House Kundarak has had an interest in the matter of security. But during my investigation of the risks the woman represents, I found something…unexpected. If I may?” Urkiel rested his right elbow on the arm of his seat and rubbed his temple, “Why not? I cannot wait to hear this.” Vernan walked down into the ring below and, took a spot in front of Rior and I, as Paron sat down on a chair near a table. Rior’s hate for Vernan was on full display here, but I was lost as anyone observing my fate today. “House Kundarak was concerned very much about any breach of security here and asked me to look into the risk to their business. Listening to the woman, there was indeed a risk, portals in thin air? Vaults could be breached; defenses compromised. But what I found was far more sinister,” and Vernan walked up and he stared at me straight in the eye, with a look of distaste. I was going to interject when I saw he did something and held my tongue. He winked at me. “Now, there are many ways to compromise security,” he said as he turned to the crowd. Rior’s eyes were narrowed, as he listened, trying to follow the logic of the Inquisitive. “And in our experience in security, the best way to compromise the integrity of a fortress, or a bank, is best accomplished from the inside. Naturally, portals or other magical conveyances are well known types of breaches, that are looked for regularly. But imagine to my surprise that I found a very different kind of breach.” He turned and looked at Rior dead in the face. “A breach of trust.” As those words escaped his lips, I saw Rior’s breathing quicken and his face pale. I was by comparison confused, as I listened to this tale. “What I found was this. Certain people, criminals mostly would be sent to the Dreadhold. And of course, Mroranon would fund the expense at the…recommendations of security. They would fund the contract’s five-year term to Soldorak. Then they would ship off the criminal and send a cancellation notice to House Kundarak. Soldorak then would pay for the first year and some penalty fees. But Soldorak somehow failed to mention that cancellation to Mroranon and failed to mention that they were owed monies back, about half of the total five year sum. “ Rior’s face became as white as a sheet, and his breathing labored as he looked around like a trapped cranium rat. Urkiel had leaned forward, fully engaged in the tale being told in the ring, his face grave as he looked at Rior. “I assume that you have more than a fancy tale here,” Urkiel said his voice seething. Vernan nodded, “Indeed. After consulting with House Sivis, we…” his voice trailed off, and with that Paron jumped up and spoke to Urkiel and the crowd again. “Yes…by looking at the accounts of all three we found all the connecting paperwork. By looking at only Mroranon and Kundarak accounts, nothing was amiss. Only if you look at Clan Soldorak’s documents in between can you see what really happened with the coin,” and Paron placed the second larger binder on the table. “And who better to use, but people that otherwise would be unlooked for?” Vernan said with contempt. “Iryn Boromar was on the outs of his family and was dying. If he disappeared, his family wouldn’t look for him, and as for this woman? Insane or not, she had no friends to call to help her out. If they survived, both would have been abandoned somewhere in the Lhazaar Principalities, unlikely to return to Krona Peak counting their blessings.” The crowd hissed in disapproval and the murmuring grew. Rior looked around for support, but even the Soldorak guards stationed there, looked at him with contempt. “So, Rior. Is this true?” Urkiel asked the hapless dwarf. “Did you betray Mroranon’s trust?” The sweat was now pouring from his brow. He stood looking around nervously as he tried to speak, “I…well…that is…perhaps…I should talk to—” Urkiel lifted the maul with his left hand and let it drop again, causing the bell to peal. “This is your last chance Rior Soldorak.” Rior’s back stiffened, and he raised his head, “I think I will wait for a…formal hearing on this before answering.” “Such is your right, as this would be a…crime against coin and contract,” Urkiel said, his hate for the little dwarf that once stood defiantly before him. “Take him away.” Two Soldorak guards grabbed their former boss’ arms, and led him down the tunnel, descending beneath the Throne. He never turned to look at me, and I truly hoped we would never meet again. Then Urkiel addressed me. “It seems your visit here has…made an impact. But, by my authority as Adjucate, let me be the first to welcome you to the Mror Holds.” And I heard applause in the rings of seats around the arena. The observers were standing and clapping…for me. I felt was overwhelmed with various emotions, relief exhaustion, joy. But as I turned around one figure caught my eye. A woman still seated in a blue dress, her long dark tresses loose around her shoulders, her skin a pale white, and she looked at me with piercing blue eyes. She was slowly clapping as she wore a crooked smile on her face, and she nodded as she realized I was staring at her. “You…Myrai, owe us a tour of your escape. I am very eager to hear of it,” Vernan said grasping my forearm and shaking it. Paron looked at me smiling, “As am I. I think it took Vernan a month to break out of here the first time.” I turned to look at the dwarf and he shrugged, “The best way to test it is to, get incarcerated. It is also how I got work from Kundarak; they respect thinkers.” “Of course,” I said, and I summoned Gossamer from his hiding spot. At his appearance the pair looked at each other nodding with a smile. “But before we do so, is it possible I get dressed?” The pair started to laugh as I continued. “I feel like I ‘m going to show people more than they should see in this tunic.” “Let’s get your things, and then some food.” [HR][/HR] After getting dressed, I answered a lot of questions and I saw I had earned a lot of respect. Not because I escaped, but that I stayed and explained what I did and how. I apparently impressed a lot of them with my ingenuity and had them question many of their own assumptions. The familiar. The [I]Apocrypha[/I]. The spittoon. All of it. And while some of the escape were only things I could do, they knew if I could, someone else might. But other things like where the key was kept, the guards, the patrols, the windows, and the sewer. Those were things that a dwarf called a ‘Silver Key’ was looking at and planning changes. However, his glares at me told me that not everyone appreciated my efforts. Paron and Vernan then introduced me to the woman who healed me, Mylle d’Jorasco. I explained to her that I was an Aasimar, as that was the first question out of her mouth, just after the hug. And then I surprised them all again. While they all knew I had only a handful of coins on me, they didn’t realize I had a lot more wealth hidden, as I pulled several gemstones from…well that’s a secret. But I had enough to pay Mylle for saving my life, sight unseen. But she made an observation, and she was right, there was another person I needed to thank. I ducked and entered the large hall of ‘[I]The Patternwelded Blade.’[/I]. I knew I was underground somewhere, but the large open space was a surprise. Well lit, it felt bigger than the caverns underneath Lathander. It was nothing like the grim gray of the Duergar, nor the haphazard collection of bits of sea junk, like the drow there had scavenged for their casino. But what made it comfortable was the smell. I could smell the fermented grains and sharp tang of hops in the air. I shook my head and wondered, how on I never managed to go to any of the dwarfholds in Toril. I liked the beers, the ales and whiskey more than the wines and cordials of the elves. And here, I was in the heart of someone’s art and love. It was the closest thing that felt like the bars I once frequented in Sigil. As I entered with Vernan and Goss flitting on his wings behind me, I saw the puzzlement of the regulars there, at the intruder to their retreat. I looked around, and I saw a dwarven woman approach with an angry face and a frying pan in hand. “You there! This is a Mror establishment only! And no pets! How did you get past…the…no…it’s you!” My hands were clutched together in front of me as I spoke smiling, “You must be Igneve.” She looked at me in wonder her mouth still open as I continued. “I’m here to thank you for getting me to the healer, and I seem to owe you for a table.” Igneve blinked a moment, and chuckled, “Now, we’ve lost many things, but I don’t recall losing a table in a more spectacular way. In fact, I don’t want it repaired.” And she pointed behind me. I turned to look, and I started to laugh. There mounted on the wall, was a round table top. On it I could see the impression of a lightly armored torso, and marks of blood around it. “See, ever since you spoke at the Circle, I had people coming in to gawk. Made sense to mount it like a trophy. Business has picked up once the guards left, so I can’t say fixing it really helps me much.” I walked over to the round, and let my fingers run over the surface…over the dried blood that covered it. My throat tightened, as I knew that the blood wasn’t mine. I closed my eyes and whispered to myself, “Rest well Eridan.” I then turned around to look at Igneve again, “Well, I guess that is one way to say I was here. Well if I can’t pay to fix it, how about a drink? Something strong, but won’t kill a non-Mror?” “That I can do! Give me a moment!” “No problem,” I said. “Vernan needs to show me where I fell from.” “It’ll be waiting when you come back down; you might have to tell us a tale or two.” I nodded, and Vernan led me up the spiral ramp. It wasn’t a steep grade, but it did take a while to reach the top. And there as I expected was an opening, framed in stone. Sighing, I started to pull on a light strand whispering to myself. Vernan watched me, and eventually I opened my eyes and looked at the opening. It was almost gone; the spider like cracks of a planar breach, had almost faded away. There weren’t any signs of twisting or decay, and most importantly to me, there was no knot or anchor. There was nothing there. I hung my head and pounded my fist on the wall. “It’s not just closed. Its moved. Gone.” Vernan looked at me critically. “So, no one else can use it?” “It’s not even a one-way portal, there isn’t anything to use. The other end could be fixed, but this end? It wasn’t. I passed through, broke the planar surface and fell. And then it must have moved elsewhere. " "So, you can’t go home?” I shook my head, “Toril wasn’t home. And not to say I wanted to go back to a den of pirates and slavers. So perhaps not being able to go back isn’t a bad thing. Still,” and I touched the stone frame of the window. “It would have been nice to have a choice. And there are…things left undone and unsaid. But, I swear the next time I get dumped on another plane, the fall is going to kill me.” And I turned and started to walk back down to the bar below. “Well,” Vernan said. “I’m sure things will work out for you. At least that’s what my gut is telling me. You have a place to stay?” “I nodded,” Paron gave me the name of a…Ghallanda inn, the ‘Gold Dragon’? Another House I understand, so much to learn. Anyway, he said he would get me a room there, and to expect a package in the morning.” Vernan nodded, “Well, at least you aren’t broke. What are you planning to do?” I grimaced, “I might stay here a bit, but I keep hearing about Sharn. I don’t know much, but Sharn seems to have a lot going for it.” Vernan nodded, “Well, I don’t know how it compares to Sigil or Waterdunk—” “—Waterdeep.” “Whatever. But you could do worse than to visit. But it’s across the continent, so you might need some coin to get there.” I nodded, “I guess a job of some sort is in order. But I’m not a miner, and I don’t know if fighting on the lines of a battle is…what I should do.” Vernan gave me an odd smile. “I bet something will come up. Gold Dragon inn eh? Well I wish you well Myrai. Good luck!” We had arrived back down at the bar and Igneve waved me over. Already a small throng had gathered to meet the strange newcomer, who’s silhouette decorated a table top on the wall. “Can’t stay for a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you” I said. “You’re welcome, but I can’t. I have a report to finish, and I have to meet…a friend for tea.” Vernan smiled, and pulled up the lapels of his duster, and left me to my new found bar flies here in Krona Peak. [I]--Well, I guess this is a good a start as any.[/I] I looked at the Tressym and shaking my head I scratched him behind the ears. [I]New world, new challenges. I guess this does make me a planewalker now. --Yeah, just ease up on the drinking tonight. Not on your life. I earned this! --Right..sure…we’ll see about that tomorrow.[/I] [B]Session Notes:[/B] In many ways this was an interlude; a session zero or 0.1 for getting Myrai established. But her's was a bit more complicated than the other characters, who were all generated and natives to Eberron. [/QUOTE]
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