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The Thorns of Winter -(updated 8/1/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8135008" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Dinner and a Show - 11/27/2020</strong></p><p></p><p>I pulled up my hair and pulled it into a low messy bun, leaving my face framed with long hair from my bangs on both sides. I kept turning my head as I looked in the mirror critically. The last time I did anything like this was in Sigil for a gathering, but I had nothing even close to what I was wearing. I realized I was fussing and not making any improvements.</p><p></p><p><em>So, Goss how do I…Goss?</em></p><p></p><p>Turning, I saw the Tressym was now beyond simple sleep, and was in that deeper hedonistic realm of slumber that only a cat can make look dignified. Or cute. I shook my head in mock disapproval, when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and saw the face of Nails.</p><p></p><p>“Your party is assembling for dinner. Shall I escort you to the dining carriage?”</p><p></p><p>“Please Nails,” and motioning with my right hand, my rod floated behind me.</p><p></p><p>Nails I think reacted with a small tilt of their head. “You may wish to wear your cloak, however. It is cold.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded and pulled out my travel cloak from where I hung it in the small closet, and then took Nail’s offered hand. He led me down the narrow passage along the side of the carriage, and my rod drifted behind us. We came to a door which Nails opened, and to my surprise, the freezing chill of the night air hit me. A series of steel plates with hand rails, bridged the gap between the two carriages, with a door on the far side. And while there was an awning to prevent snow or rain from coming down, it did nothing about the cold. Nails stepped outside holding the door open and motioned for me to follow. I quickly rushed across the steel platform to the other door and didn’t even wait for Nails to open it. I rushed inside shivering, my rod darting behind me to keep up.</p><p></p><p>“Sp…sp…spring huh? S..s..ure this isn’t w…w…winter?” I said my teeth chattering.</p><p></p><p>“There have been strange weather reports. Here it is freezing, yet I have heard that north it is warm. But I apologize, I do not know if this is typical or not, beyond the locals complaints,” Nails responded. I noticed with envy, that the cold didn’t seem to bother them at all.</p><p></p><p>I was standing in a vestibule of sorts, with a heavy curtain blocking my view inside the carriage. Nails stepped in front of me, and with two arms, swept the curtain away with a flourish, and then stepped back, and with a small bow gestured for me to enter. The carriage was arranged like an inn, with a column of five tables that could seat four on the left, and five tables that could seat two on the right. The entire car was inlaid in wood with a deep cherry wood finish and ornate carvings, while from above hung chandeliers with cut glass, reflecting the light from more of those strange crystals…dragonshards. The tables were set in clean white linens, and were set with not clay plates, or metal ones, but fine tableware, gilt with gold, and utensils in shining silver. Each table had wooden chairs with arms each the same cherry wood color as the paneling in the car. Most of the tables had various occupants eating, drinking or both, while conversations and light laughter echoed through the car.</p><p></p><p>“I take it that not everyone eats here,” I whispered to Nails.</p><p></p><p>“Hmm? No, only First Class,” came the puzzled surprise. “The second table on the left.”</p><p></p><p>I glanced at the table, and saw it had a sole occupant. A woman, with dark raven tresses, which cascaded loosely behind her shoulders. From beneath I could see the small points of her ears. It was fixed into place with a silvery headband with delicate chains wrapping behind her hair, and an aquamarine gemstone set into the center. It was a perfect match for her piercing blue eyes, and it stood in contrast to the deep blue velvet dress she wore. She was taking a sip of red wine as she turned her head and smiled at my entrance. As I approached the woman stood, with her hands crossed in front of her. She then moved to take both of mine in hand and spoke.</p><p></p><p>“At last we meet,” she said smiling and looking me over. “You may call me Melisandre. I am glad it fits; I only had the barest glance at you in that…well…sack?”</p><p></p><p>Nodding, “This is your doing not…Taryn’s?” I asked trying to gauge the situation. The half-elf…no Khorvar was looking me over with interest. Not just my eyes or hair, but all of me as she responded. “No Taryn is a good business minded Mror but he does lack…a woman’s finesse. Your hands are freezing though! I should have provided gloves. Please get Myrai a hot buttered brandy,” she ordered Nails, who was pulling out a chair for me to be seated, who responded with a silent nod. “Please! Sit!” she admonished me. Nails removed my cloak, and then pushed in my chair as I sat, before moving farther down the car to fetch Melisandre’s order.</p><p></p><p>“So, it was you I saw during the inquiry,” I stated looking at the woman, slightly uncomfortable with the unequal familiarity we had with each other. “I’m guessing that wasn’t random chance.”</p><p></p><p>Melisandre gave a knowing grin and tilted her head as my rod floated next to me on my left. “And you do know a bit of Arcana as well…Anyway no it wasn’t. Vernan told me about you, and I…just had to see the person myself. And after what happened…I knew you were the right person for what I needed.”</p><p></p><p>I guffawed and looked at her in the eye, “I’m not sure how breaking out of jail qualifies me in mining gold.”</p><p></p><p>Melisandre gave me a smile, “I don’t need you to mine. What I am recruiting for is for talent that can handle…unexpected things. But we should wait for Taryn before we discuss business.”</p><p></p><p>“If you can indulge me then, what is Medani business exactly?”</p><p></p><p>Melisandre looked at me her eyes narrowing slightly, “That’s a pointed question.”</p><p></p><p>I shrugged, “I apologize if that is a rude question. But I am new here, and all I know is that you are a member of a Dragonmarked house, but I have no idea what yours is about.”</p><p></p><p>“The <em>house</em> is involved in…protection of people or nations,” she said deliberately. “Think of it in the sense of being one step ahead of your opponents but without knowing who they might be. But…I’m not a scion of the house, and I…well…found that I enjoy helping find the right people for others. So, I am on my own. Does that satisfy you?”</p><p></p><p>Her tone gave me the impression of someone who was rarely challenged. It was more than simple self-confidence. It reminded me of a jaded Sensate.</p><p></p><p>“It does,” I smiled. Nails returned with a tall glass with a handle, the steam pouring off the top of it. I grabbed the handle and then gingerly wrapped my hands around them, letting them soak the warmth. “I may not drink this…the heat is more intoxicating this way.”</p><p></p><p>She was about to respond when from behind me I heard a Mror voice, “Ah! So this is the seventh one! Please don’t get up.”</p><p></p><p>I turned my head and saw a pair of Mror. One was dressed in a long coat and carried a cane with another of those dragonshards on top. His brown hair was slicked back, and his beard was small and neatly trimmed. His dress gave off the impression of success and sophistication. Beside him was a female Mror. She had brown hair, with streaks of silver hair throughout and was done up in a tight wound braid. She wore what appeared to be an ornamental breastplate that sat on her shoulders but didn’t extend past the sternum. But it was covered in gold inlay all surrounding a symbol I didn’t recognize, a nine sided coin. Her hazel eyes however regarded me with suspicion.</p><p></p><p>“I am Taryn d’Kundarak and this is Debrika,” the male Mror said gesturing to his companion. Another Warforged pulled out chairs from the table, and Debrika sat first followed by Taryn. “I must apologize in advance, but I will not be staying for dinner, as Debrika has pointed out there are some last moment affairs to take care of this evening.”</p><p></p><p>“So…you’re the mastermind behind recovering a gold mine?” I asked just as Taryn seated himself.</p><p></p><p>Debrika glared at me, and Taryn gave me a pained smile, “Ah no. That would be my uncle actually, Kaelin. But you are straight to the point I see. I like that.”</p><p></p><p>“You did say you had last minute affairs to take care of didn’t you?” I replied. Debrika arched an eyebrow a moment, and Melisandre leaned back in her chair with her wine.</p><p></p><p>“And so I did,” Taryn said still smiling. “Well, I understand from Melisandre that you are…new here. But let me tell you a quick story first, and then we can get to the matter at hand.” Another Warforged came up and gave the pair of Mrors large mugs full of an earthy smelling ale, and I took a small sip of my brandy and waited patiently.</p><p></p><p>“Now then, over a hundred years ago the entirety of the nation of Galifar was engulfed in a war of succession, what we now call ‘The Last War..’ A war that only ended about three years ago. About ten years after the start, a Mror made a finding, after a quake sheared off rock on a cliff face of a canyon called ‘the Sieve’; a pure gold seam. Deep and vast. That Mror, quickly gathered his clan, and they built bridges across to the cliff face and started to mine it. The purity of the seam was high, but even the tailings contained valuable ore, so they build smelting facilities. So very quickly, Kaelin Skolhanker’s clan began to rise in prominence and wealth. So much that his sister Lina married into House Kundarak, joining our Clan’s interests…indirectly.”</p><p></p><p>Taryn took a large sip and continued. “Now, the Sieve is in the southern part of the Ironroots, so a small garrison was built to protect the Clan, and the mine. But as the Last War dragged on year after year, more and more Mrors were called up to fight for the nation of Karnnath by King Kaius I. But as more and more were called, the garrison became vulnerable. And so, it was that the Jhorash’tar, a tribe of Orcs noticed. They stormed the garrison and took it, the mine, the smelter. Everything. Kaelin and two of his sons were lucky to escape with a number of civilians…but not many. This wasn’t the only event like this, and Mrors decided that we didn’t need to fight Karnnath's wars; we needed to defend ourselves and our interests first. And the Mror Holds declared itself…free of Karrn rule in 914. We did keep up trade with them though and they didn’t retaliate. But we couldn’t take the risk, so Krona Peak was heavily fortified. But no one could be spared to go recover the Sieve.</p><p></p><p>“Until now?” I guessed.</p><p></p><p>“Correct. With the Last War three years in the past, Kaelin is mustering a dwarf army to retake the garrison and the mine,” Taryn smiled with a dreamy look in his eyes. Debrika kept looking at me intently, while Melisandre continued to sip her wine with an amused look.</p><p></p><p>I nodded and took a sip of my brandy again, feeling the warmth seep into my bones and blood. “But what does that have to do with me?”</p><p></p><p>Taryn nodded approvingly, “Well there is little that a column of Mror can’t do once they set their minds and axes to it. But for everything an army can do, there is a need for…talented troubleshooters for things it can’t. Troubleshooters with skills like yours.”</p><p></p><p>“Like mine? Why not another Mror?”</p><p></p><p>“Well…to be honest I didn’t think I would need any. But as I was working with Melisandre to get command staff for the army over to Kaelin to review, she told me that a group would be necessary. I didn’t believe her then. But now…well she seems to have a knack to knowing what’s needed when,” Taryn looked at Melisandre with a small smile. Debrika looked at the Khorvar with the same disapproving look. Melisandre made the appearance of modesty, bowing her head. But I saw she was only playing a part here.</p><p></p><p>“I am more a student of history,” Melisandre replied. “There have always been a need for such people. I didn’t think that current events would force it so soon; otherwise I would have pushed for recruiting earlier.”</p><p></p><p>“So, I’m not the only one you have approached?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“No, there were I think six others that had offers made to them.”</p><p></p><p>“And how many accepted?”</p><p></p><p>Melisandre smiled, “I sent messages to them all a week ago, all but one of them will come, I am sure.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait…all but one?” Taryn asked surprised.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, well it appears that one recently had a…bad end. But I used some influence to get a message to a different, equally qualified person. I will explain that in detail later; let’s focus on Myrai’s questions first.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” Taryn acknowledged nodding. “So, what can I answer for you?”</p><p></p><p>“So, who did you recruit?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, the first three are skilled in areas of…magical arts. One is a well-known healer from the Eldeen Reaches, and then I found a couple of wizards. One in the Mrors, and the other was in Thrane,” Melisandre replied, counting off her fingers. “The other three are more physically inclined. And they were all in Sharn, including the replacement."</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p></p><p>The skies were grey and pouring rain as night fell in the City of Towers. In Middle Dura, traffic on the bridges was high as the citizens scrambled to their tenements to find shelter from the weather. In the Callestan district, the coming of night meant that work of the seedier trades would start. The bordellos, the dreamlily dens, the gambling halls; all the vices would throw open their doors to welcome all with coin.</p><p></p><p>Through the narrow alleys, a large hulking Orc, hooded and cloaked, threaded its way among the refuse and the derelict squatters, hiding in the boxes and makeshift shelters. Finally, he came to a nearly empty alley, with only a single occupant. A sleeping old woman covered in wet and torn copies of the ‘Sharn Inquisitive’, coughing fitfully in her sleep. The hulking Orc stepped around the supine woman and stopped at a weathered door and thumped on it twice quickly. After a moment, the door opened, admitting the figure inside.</p><p></p><p>“Took yer time Mobad,” a gruff Orc voice said in the shadows of the room. Inside a half dozen leather cloaked brutes were busy stuffing items into sacks and packs on a large trestle table.</p><p></p><p>“The shifter wouldn’t pay, Markan. I had to break things first. Then I broke him a bit,” Mobad said, pulling down his hood. His long, dank hair was wet, despite the coverings, and water dripped from his grey skin. His small black eyes looked tired and frustrated. “But Boromars showed up before I could finish. I ran.” Mobad finished with distaste.</p><p></p><p>Markan moved out of the shadows with a coffer and stuffed it into a nearby pack on the table. “We’ve lost then. The Boromars sense our weakness; we have lost territory. And now…now we lost four more to—”</p><p></p><p>“To Boromars or Daask?” Mobad asked almost unconcerned with the answer.</p><p></p><p>“Neither. To <em>him.</em>” Markan spat.</p><p></p><p>“’The Blade?’” Mobad said dispassionately.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, ‘The Blade’! We’re done here.”</p><p></p><p>Mobad nodded. Then he looked around at the activity in packing. “Why are we packing up?”</p><p></p><p>“That’s a good question,” Markan said with a hostile tone. “It’s bad enough that the Boromars want to finish us off. And Daask…well we keep targeting the same places and they are much stronger than we. Add this ‘Blade’ into the mix…Its hopeless. I’d be content to wait it out, but we can’t. Perhaps <em>you</em> can explain?” Markan said stepping next to the Orc.</p><p></p><p>“Me? What are you talking about?”</p><p></p><p>“You dumb brute; you had two jobs. Beat up who I say for money, and not be followed. And now you show up here with no money, and you were followed.”</p><p></p><p>“Was not!”</p><p></p><p>“Really? Then how did a gargoyle know to find you here?”</p><p></p><p>Mobad blinked in puzzlement. “Gargoyle?”</p><p></p><p>“A House Vadalis gargoyle, banged on the door howling <strong><em>your</em></strong> name! I took the letter from it so it would leave.” And Markan thrust an opened envelope at the baffled orc. “This is supposed to be a secret hideout! And you are taking mail here?”</p><p></p><p>Mobad stood there with a blank look and looked at the letter. On the outside the letter simply had his name ‘Mobad’ on the front. Frowning he took the opened letter and read:</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>“To ‘Wanted Criminal Mobad’? And now it says Dark Lanterns are looking into our gang? We’re leaving,” Markan said angrily.</p><p></p><p>“I will get my things,” Mobad said simply.</p><p></p><p>“Yes. But you are <strong><em>not</em></strong> coming with us. <strong><em>You</em></strong> are going to talk to this Melisandre and squeeze out of her what she knows.”</p><p></p><p>“How will I find you later?” Mobad asked.</p><p></p><p>“We’ll find <strong><em>you</em></strong>. Now go before you bring down more trouble on our heads.”</p><p></p><p>Mobad sighed, and pulled up the hood to his cloak, and without another word left the gang’s former safehouse, walking back into the pouring rain. He started to thread his way back to the main bridge way and work his way upwards to find a skycoach to take him to Tavick’s landing.</p><p></p><p>Above him, another figure stayed pressed to the shadows of his perch in on a balcony. The figure was dressed in a black cloak, with a cowl covering most of his head. A ridged mask of leather on his forehead kept water clear from his eyes. Eyes focused on the doorway that one of the Orc gang members just departed. The cowled figure considered losing an arrow at the departing Orc, but decided against it. That one wasn’t the important one. The leader, Markan was. Letting an arrow fly and warning Markan wasn’t the plan. He relaxed the tension on the bowstring and waited.</p><p></p><p>He knew that the gang was on the losing end of a turf war and were being pushing out from the small amount of territory it controlled. The Boromars were once seen as unassailable and ruthless and none dared challenged them for territory. But that was before Daask started to make a mess of things. The big criminal operations, like the Tyrants, and House Tarkhanan had nothing to fear. Daask seemed to have it out only for the Boromar clan. But now the clan had to deal with the middle-sized upstarts looking to move up. And while the Boromars seemed unable to deal with Daask, it could deal with the smaller gangs, and did harshly. But sometimes they moved, a bit slower than justice’s patience had.</p><p></p><p>Or at least, The Blade’s. He watched and waited, and he started to become concerned. The pattern was off; normally the other orcs would have left to press their luck on evening shakedowns, after a pair of them did their sunset shakes. But only one had returned this evening, and the same one left again. Beyond that one, none of the others left the little dingy hovel in the back alley. Then a motion caught his eye.</p><p></p><p>From both ends of the alley, a dozen men, split evenly into two groups approached the door quietly. The Blade pulled his bow beside him and flattened himself into the shadows and watched. As the dozen men approached the door, he saw that there were two contingents of the Sharn Watch had gathered at each of the alley’s exits. This was a pleasant surprise to see them actively engaged. But the dozen below weren’t dressed as members of the Watch. They were dressed in mostly black cloth and stained leathers.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, the dozen men flooded through the door like it wasn’t even there. Two remained outside while there was a sound of a scuffle. There were sounds of steel on flesh, and a struggle. Finally, two men emerged dragging an orc sized figure out with them, in chains. The others exited the hovel, swords sheathed. The Blade frowned, this wasn’t normal either and he listened, as the men conversed below.</p><p></p><p>“You find them?”</p><p></p><p>“No…but the boss here might know.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s ask him.”</p><p></p><p>He squinted to get a better view of the Orc prisoner and was surprised to see that around the Orc’s head was a black leather bag. As they approached the end of the alley, an unremarkable skycoach dropped from above, and the two men threw the unconscious orc onboard. They then boarded the coach, and it sped away in the rain. The others in the alley departed one at a time from each end, leaving the hovel and its door wide open.</p><p></p><p>The Blade stepped out of the shadows and climbed down a drain pipe that clung on the tower wall, till he reached the alley floor, not a foot away from the old sleeping woman, who coughed for a brief moment. He pulled out his coiled leather whip and then quickly and silently he moved to the hovel and darted inside.</p><p></p><p>The interior was dark, but The Blades vision was unimpacted by the lack of light. Around the floor were bodies still warm, blood pooling beneath them. They seemed to be packing goods and wealth, ready to bolt. The Blade, moved to the table in the center of the room, and opened one of the packs still sitting there. Inside were bags of coin, copper and silver mostly. Untouched, and unsearched. The Blade’s heart quickened a step, and he hurried to the door exiting the hovel. Looking around and above, he quickly hung his bow over his shoulder, and then hung the whip at his belt. Keeping his head down he exited the alley and merged into the now busy crowd on the main causeway, the Sharn Watch mysteriously missing.</p><p></p><p>It took some time to get back to his apartment in Lower Dura. Of course, The Blade took a meandering path through crowds before he arrived in Oldkeep. Here the poor paid little attention to the goings on of neighbors. Staring at them was as likely to cause a fight, and no one’s life was worth an indiscriminate stare. Still he was cautious, and he travelled in the darkened alleys cautiously. Finally, he darted into an alley, and made his way to a heavy oak door. He quickly produced a key, popped open the lock, and swiftly entered the apartment and secured the door behind him.</p><p></p><p>He leaned his back on the closed door and he breathed a sigh of relief. But he was concerned; the Dark Lanterns rarely involved themselves in low crimes of Dura. And they didn’t find who they were looking for. He took of his cloak and peeled the wet mask away from his face. Moving to the rough paneled wall, he pushed on a board and opened a concealed cupboard, with a drain at the bottom and hooks for clothing, some already holding fine outer wear.</p><p></p><p>It was several hours later when the finely dressed elf arrived by skycoach at the Seinessa tower in Oak Towers, in Upper Northedge. His face was deep in thought however, as he walked towards the double doors on the balcony landing. He produced a key, and unlocked the doors, and entered. The upper foyer was reserved for close company and family, and the hour was late. So, the tower floor being empty wasn’t a terrible surprise. The elf took off the light leather cloak and hung it on a nearby hook to dry. He then made his way upstairs to his room, a floor up.</p><p></p><p>He threw open the door, and flopped down on a divan, tired and sore. This evening had not been what he had expected to say the least.</p><p></p><p>“You’re early sir. The sun hasn’t even made her presence known in the east, and yet here you are,” a Warforged intoned, carrying a silver platter. “If you had notified me of your change of schedule…no correction, told me your schedule to start with I might have—”</p><p></p><p>“—Told me to fix it myself. Thanks Reeve.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course. A letter arrived for you shortly after you left this evening,” and he offered the silver platter with a white missive on it.</p><p></p><p>“A letter? Probably Delling wanting me to talk to my mother again,” he said dismissively not reaching for it.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t think so. I have been using those letters for the cooking fire; this one is different.”</p><p></p><p>The elf frowned and took the offered letter and glanced at it briefly before tearing it open. As he read it, his heart quickened its pace:</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Research and Staffing</p><p></p><p>“This is not good,” Adrian muttered to himself. “And I guess this Medani has answers to questions I didn’t know I had. Until now. Reeves?” he addressed the Warforged standing silently nearby expectantly. “Tell my parents I am going out of town for a while.”</p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p>The rain didn’t let up, and the old woman stirred in her nest of Inquisitives. She slowly stood and picked up the wooden staff she was laying on, and made her way down the alley, only taking a cursory glance at the hovel. She saw bodies, and a table of packed goods and little else. She continued into the main causeway and followed the crowd quietly to the adjacent tower. Unhurried, she slowly made her way towards a boarding house, with its windows covered with boards to keep the meager possessions inside safe. She moved into the alley next to it, where the stench of rotten meat and slop hung in the air. She moved towards a stone stair that led into the side of the boarding house and bent down. Tracing her finger around the bricks, she grasped the edge of a loose one, and pulled it away from the stair. Inside was a folded slip of parchment. Nodding to herself, she pulled it out. Like most messages it was encoded. Unlike most, it was somewhat verbose.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>“What in the?” the woman muttered. “I just started getting a handle following these Lanterns, and that odd pretender. Now…this?” Doxx frowned. “And Denning? There isn’t anything out there but ranches!” She snapped her fingers and a quick gout of flame incinerated the letter. She replaced the brick and moved back into the thoroughfare muttering to herself.</p><p></p><p>“I can only hope that I got better than steerage on the Rail out.”</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p></p><p></p><p>“I notice that we are travelling west, and not south. So, where am I going and why?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“For the moment, it’s for a simple reason but a thorny problem that must be solved,” Taryn started. “But first, here’s a quandary for you. Do you know how many tons of meat that a three thousand Mror army needs for a week?” I shook my head and he continued. “About two tons. Now once we start marching, and we overwhelm the enemy we need about eight times that, plus a constant supply line. Now of course, once we take the mine, we need less, but you get the idea; without food an army goes nowhere. So, two years ago, I made contracts with every ranch in Karrnath for their cattle in preparation. And therein lies the problem.”</p><p></p><p>“What problem?” I said unclear on the issue.</p><p></p><p>“The main ranches I contracted with haven’t delivered, and messages haven’t been getting through either. The most likely explanation is—”</p><p></p><p>“—Orcs? Jhorash’tar right?”</p><p></p><p>“Good guess, but no. Melisandre believes it is Ogres.”</p><p></p><p>“Ogres?” I said dubiously.</p><p></p><p>“Yes…the western side of the Ironroots have quite a number of them, and they are cunning and eager to eat horseflesh, and cattle alike.”</p><p></p><p>“I am not a rancher you realize.”</p><p></p><p>“No of course not. What I need you to do is to scout ahead and find out exactly what’s been going on. Then you will meet back with your other members of your group and take action.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait…alone? I don’t even—” I protested.</p><p></p><p>“I have arranged for a number of Blademarks to accompany you and guide you to the ranches north of Denning,” Melisandre said.</p><p></p><p>“And time is somewhat pressing,” Taryn continued. “We can’t wait for the others arrive, as they are probably two weeks behind us. So, you will go with the Blademarks, find out what is going on, and then return to Denning where the group of you will address it, however you feel best.”</p><p></p><p>I set down the brandy and massaged my temple with my right hand. “You have made the assumption that I agreed to do this you realize? What exactly are you offering here?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, Kaelin Skolhanker is…generous. For skilled personnel such as you, percentage of profits from the mine for five years. With a guaranteed floor of a thousand gold coin a year. However, the payout is expected to be far higher. More like ten times that.”</p><p></p><p>I leaned forward in disbelief, “That…that is impressive. All for finding…cows.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, there will be other expected work of course, but…in essence yes,” Taryn said smiling, leaning back. “All you need to do is sign.”</p><p></p><p>Debrika’s silence was broken by her reaching into a small bag at her side, and from its interior withdrew a large book. A book that I was certain could not have fit into that bag, and she laid it none to gently on the table, causing the glasses and flatwear to jump on the table along with me in my seat. I squinted at it the large tome in confusion and pointed at it. “And that is?”</p><p></p><p>“The contract.” Taryn said mildly.</p><p></p><p>“The <strong><em>whole</em></strong> book?” I said looking at it with trepidation.</p><p></p><p>“Well…there are room for addendums, but it is really a standard Mror business contract.” Taryn said taking another gulp of his drink.</p><p></p><p>I opened the book and looked at the text inside. I could tell it was in a dwarvish script, which didn’t concern me. But Taryn reached over, and turned the pages to near the end saying, “And you sign here.”</p><p></p><p>I took his hand from the page and moved it aside and turned the pages back to the beginning. “I don’t sign contracts without reading them.”</p><p></p><p>Taryn blinked in surprise, and I noticed that Debrika raised an eyebrow and I think gave me a slight smile, while Melisandre chuckled. “I don’t think I have seen some one insistent on reading a standard contract before,” Taryn said.</p><p></p><p>I looked at him in the eyes, “Where I come from contracts…have a high price if you don’t read them. Usually a cost most people really can’t afford. So, while I don’t exactly see you as a soulmonger, a habit is a habit.”</p><p></p><p>“Take your time, you can agree in the morning if you like. Anyway, Debrika and I have some work to finish this evening. And we can discuss any questions you might have, after you’ve had an evening to think on it. Good night then, Myrai. I do hope we will be doing business together.” And he smiled and took my hand gently and squeezed it, while Debrika gave me a curt nod. And then both returned to the First Class cars, leaving Melisandre and I alone.</p><p></p><p>Melisandre smiled and chuckled, “You are a pleasure. So surprising, and so much potential. I have no doubts you’re are the right person for this. Please accept.”</p><p></p><p>I motioned, and the large book closed and then floated off the table, to hang in the air with my rod. “I was serious on what I said with contracts.” I replied.</p><p></p><p>The Khorvar nodded, “Yes I know that…but please do. But think of it as a…favor to me. I did tell Vernan to assist you after all.”</p><p></p><p>I looked at Melisandre, my eyes narrowing. “So, you did have a hand in my…freedom. Why do I warrant that much attention? Seems…I don’t know, a bit much for dealing with cows.”</p><p></p><p>The woman shrugged, “Remember what I said that my House does? We anticipate threats, even if we don’t always know where they might come from. And while I don’t know everything that might happen; I am certain that you, and the others, are the right people to deal with the challenges ahead. No matter the cause or the source.” And she smiled again and stood up to my surprise. “I too must apologize, but I also have some preparations before we get off at Cattbron tomorrow afternoon. We can talk more then.” And she straightened out the front of her dress and passed by me, heading where Taryn went. But she paused as she stood next to me.</p><p></p><p>“And you do look quite fetching in that dress. Keep it,” she said smiling.</p><p></p><p>“Even if I say no?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure. But call it intuition; you won’t.” And she made her way to the curtains, which were held out of her way by a Warforged attendant.</p><p></p><p>I sat there looking out the panes of glass at the now darkened landscape, reflecting. I didn’t know Melisandre, but she reminded me of old planewalkers in the Society of Sensation. Some would call them ‘jaded’ but the truth was more complex. The older one got in the Society, the more one tended to close themselves off to new ideas, experiences or concepts. After all, they had seen so much, that it colored everything they saw in the present.</p><p></p><p>Melisandre gave me that same impression; very experienced, very certain. Almost too much so. I didn’t know her, and perhaps her experience was dead on. But something nagged at me that she knew more than she was telling, and the only thing I was certain of was this:</p><p></p><p>I didn’t know the right questions to ask.</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p>And that makes seven. The players wanted a lot of background impacting the adventure. And so there was a lot of story and some untended consequences. Well at least for the players that is. But it worked.</p><p></p><p>As a side note; the town Denning noted in Doxx's note. was named in honor of Troy Denning. The reason for that, was this adventure was originally planned to be run in the Forgotten Realms, in the area of Hartsvale and some of the information from from the novels in the "Twilight's Giants" was used to start the background, and a new central town was needed. But the players decided that Eberron would be more interesting. So the town was kept, and everything was moved.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8135008, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Dinner and a Show - 11/27/2020[/B][/CENTER] I pulled up my hair and pulled it into a low messy bun, leaving my face framed with long hair from my bangs on both sides. I kept turning my head as I looked in the mirror critically. The last time I did anything like this was in Sigil for a gathering, but I had nothing even close to what I was wearing. I realized I was fussing and not making any improvements. [I]So, Goss how do I…Goss?[/I] Turning, I saw the Tressym was now beyond simple sleep, and was in that deeper hedonistic realm of slumber that only a cat can make look dignified. Or cute. I shook my head in mock disapproval, when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and saw the face of Nails. “Your party is assembling for dinner. Shall I escort you to the dining carriage?” “Please Nails,” and motioning with my right hand, my rod floated behind me. Nails I think reacted with a small tilt of their head. “You may wish to wear your cloak, however. It is cold.” I nodded and pulled out my travel cloak from where I hung it in the small closet, and then took Nail’s offered hand. He led me down the narrow passage along the side of the carriage, and my rod drifted behind us. We came to a door which Nails opened, and to my surprise, the freezing chill of the night air hit me. A series of steel plates with hand rails, bridged the gap between the two carriages, with a door on the far side. And while there was an awning to prevent snow or rain from coming down, it did nothing about the cold. Nails stepped outside holding the door open and motioned for me to follow. I quickly rushed across the steel platform to the other door and didn’t even wait for Nails to open it. I rushed inside shivering, my rod darting behind me to keep up. “Sp…sp…spring huh? S..s..ure this isn’t w…w…winter?” I said my teeth chattering. “There have been strange weather reports. Here it is freezing, yet I have heard that north it is warm. But I apologize, I do not know if this is typical or not, beyond the locals complaints,” Nails responded. I noticed with envy, that the cold didn’t seem to bother them at all. I was standing in a vestibule of sorts, with a heavy curtain blocking my view inside the carriage. Nails stepped in front of me, and with two arms, swept the curtain away with a flourish, and then stepped back, and with a small bow gestured for me to enter. The carriage was arranged like an inn, with a column of five tables that could seat four on the left, and five tables that could seat two on the right. The entire car was inlaid in wood with a deep cherry wood finish and ornate carvings, while from above hung chandeliers with cut glass, reflecting the light from more of those strange crystals…dragonshards. The tables were set in clean white linens, and were set with not clay plates, or metal ones, but fine tableware, gilt with gold, and utensils in shining silver. Each table had wooden chairs with arms each the same cherry wood color as the paneling in the car. Most of the tables had various occupants eating, drinking or both, while conversations and light laughter echoed through the car. “I take it that not everyone eats here,” I whispered to Nails. “Hmm? No, only First Class,” came the puzzled surprise. “The second table on the left.” I glanced at the table, and saw it had a sole occupant. A woman, with dark raven tresses, which cascaded loosely behind her shoulders. From beneath I could see the small points of her ears. It was fixed into place with a silvery headband with delicate chains wrapping behind her hair, and an aquamarine gemstone set into the center. It was a perfect match for her piercing blue eyes, and it stood in contrast to the deep blue velvet dress she wore. She was taking a sip of red wine as she turned her head and smiled at my entrance. As I approached the woman stood, with her hands crossed in front of her. She then moved to take both of mine in hand and spoke. “At last we meet,” she said smiling and looking me over. “You may call me Melisandre. I am glad it fits; I only had the barest glance at you in that…well…sack?” Nodding, “This is your doing not…Taryn’s?” I asked trying to gauge the situation. The half-elf…no Khorvar was looking me over with interest. Not just my eyes or hair, but all of me as she responded. “No Taryn is a good business minded Mror but he does lack…a woman’s finesse. Your hands are freezing though! I should have provided gloves. Please get Myrai a hot buttered brandy,” she ordered Nails, who was pulling out a chair for me to be seated, who responded with a silent nod. “Please! Sit!” she admonished me. Nails removed my cloak, and then pushed in my chair as I sat, before moving farther down the car to fetch Melisandre’s order. “So, it was you I saw during the inquiry,” I stated looking at the woman, slightly uncomfortable with the unequal familiarity we had with each other. “I’m guessing that wasn’t random chance.” Melisandre gave a knowing grin and tilted her head as my rod floated next to me on my left. “And you do know a bit of Arcana as well…Anyway no it wasn’t. Vernan told me about you, and I…just had to see the person myself. And after what happened…I knew you were the right person for what I needed.” I guffawed and looked at her in the eye, “I’m not sure how breaking out of jail qualifies me in mining gold.” Melisandre gave me a smile, “I don’t need you to mine. What I am recruiting for is for talent that can handle…unexpected things. But we should wait for Taryn before we discuss business.” “If you can indulge me then, what is Medani business exactly?” Melisandre looked at me her eyes narrowing slightly, “That’s a pointed question.” I shrugged, “I apologize if that is a rude question. But I am new here, and all I know is that you are a member of a Dragonmarked house, but I have no idea what yours is about.” “The [I]house[/I] is involved in…protection of people or nations,” she said deliberately. “Think of it in the sense of being one step ahead of your opponents but without knowing who they might be. But…I’m not a scion of the house, and I…well…found that I enjoy helping find the right people for others. So, I am on my own. Does that satisfy you?” Her tone gave me the impression of someone who was rarely challenged. It was more than simple self-confidence. It reminded me of a jaded Sensate. “It does,” I smiled. Nails returned with a tall glass with a handle, the steam pouring off the top of it. I grabbed the handle and then gingerly wrapped my hands around them, letting them soak the warmth. “I may not drink this…the heat is more intoxicating this way.” She was about to respond when from behind me I heard a Mror voice, “Ah! So this is the seventh one! Please don’t get up.” I turned my head and saw a pair of Mror. One was dressed in a long coat and carried a cane with another of those dragonshards on top. His brown hair was slicked back, and his beard was small and neatly trimmed. His dress gave off the impression of success and sophistication. Beside him was a female Mror. She had brown hair, with streaks of silver hair throughout and was done up in a tight wound braid. She wore what appeared to be an ornamental breastplate that sat on her shoulders but didn’t extend past the sternum. But it was covered in gold inlay all surrounding a symbol I didn’t recognize, a nine sided coin. Her hazel eyes however regarded me with suspicion. “I am Taryn d’Kundarak and this is Debrika,” the male Mror said gesturing to his companion. Another Warforged pulled out chairs from the table, and Debrika sat first followed by Taryn. “I must apologize in advance, but I will not be staying for dinner, as Debrika has pointed out there are some last moment affairs to take care of this evening.” “So…you’re the mastermind behind recovering a gold mine?” I asked just as Taryn seated himself. Debrika glared at me, and Taryn gave me a pained smile, “Ah no. That would be my uncle actually, Kaelin. But you are straight to the point I see. I like that.” “You did say you had last minute affairs to take care of didn’t you?” I replied. Debrika arched an eyebrow a moment, and Melisandre leaned back in her chair with her wine. “And so I did,” Taryn said still smiling. “Well, I understand from Melisandre that you are…new here. But let me tell you a quick story first, and then we can get to the matter at hand.” Another Warforged came up and gave the pair of Mrors large mugs full of an earthy smelling ale, and I took a small sip of my brandy and waited patiently. “Now then, over a hundred years ago the entirety of the nation of Galifar was engulfed in a war of succession, what we now call ‘The Last War..’ A war that only ended about three years ago. About ten years after the start, a Mror made a finding, after a quake sheared off rock on a cliff face of a canyon called ‘the Sieve’; a pure gold seam. Deep and vast. That Mror, quickly gathered his clan, and they built bridges across to the cliff face and started to mine it. The purity of the seam was high, but even the tailings contained valuable ore, so they build smelting facilities. So very quickly, Kaelin Skolhanker’s clan began to rise in prominence and wealth. So much that his sister Lina married into House Kundarak, joining our Clan’s interests…indirectly.” Taryn took a large sip and continued. “Now, the Sieve is in the southern part of the Ironroots, so a small garrison was built to protect the Clan, and the mine. But as the Last War dragged on year after year, more and more Mrors were called up to fight for the nation of Karnnath by King Kaius I. But as more and more were called, the garrison became vulnerable. And so, it was that the Jhorash’tar, a tribe of Orcs noticed. They stormed the garrison and took it, the mine, the smelter. Everything. Kaelin and two of his sons were lucky to escape with a number of civilians…but not many. This wasn’t the only event like this, and Mrors decided that we didn’t need to fight Karnnath's wars; we needed to defend ourselves and our interests first. And the Mror Holds declared itself…free of Karrn rule in 914. We did keep up trade with them though and they didn’t retaliate. But we couldn’t take the risk, so Krona Peak was heavily fortified. But no one could be spared to go recover the Sieve. “Until now?” I guessed. “Correct. With the Last War three years in the past, Kaelin is mustering a dwarf army to retake the garrison and the mine,” Taryn smiled with a dreamy look in his eyes. Debrika kept looking at me intently, while Melisandre continued to sip her wine with an amused look. I nodded and took a sip of my brandy again, feeling the warmth seep into my bones and blood. “But what does that have to do with me?” Taryn nodded approvingly, “Well there is little that a column of Mror can’t do once they set their minds and axes to it. But for everything an army can do, there is a need for…talented troubleshooters for things it can’t. Troubleshooters with skills like yours.” “Like mine? Why not another Mror?” “Well…to be honest I didn’t think I would need any. But as I was working with Melisandre to get command staff for the army over to Kaelin to review, she told me that a group would be necessary. I didn’t believe her then. But now…well she seems to have a knack to knowing what’s needed when,” Taryn looked at Melisandre with a small smile. Debrika looked at the Khorvar with the same disapproving look. Melisandre made the appearance of modesty, bowing her head. But I saw she was only playing a part here. “I am more a student of history,” Melisandre replied. “There have always been a need for such people. I didn’t think that current events would force it so soon; otherwise I would have pushed for recruiting earlier.” “So, I’m not the only one you have approached?” I asked. “No, there were I think six others that had offers made to them.” “And how many accepted?” Melisandre smiled, “I sent messages to them all a week ago, all but one of them will come, I am sure.” “Wait…all but one?” Taryn asked surprised. “Yes, well it appears that one recently had a…bad end. But I used some influence to get a message to a different, equally qualified person. I will explain that in detail later; let’s focus on Myrai’s questions first.” “Of course,” Taryn acknowledged nodding. “So, what can I answer for you?” “So, who did you recruit?” “Well, the first three are skilled in areas of…magical arts. One is a well-known healer from the Eldeen Reaches, and then I found a couple of wizards. One in the Mrors, and the other was in Thrane,” Melisandre replied, counting off her fingers. “The other three are more physically inclined. And they were all in Sharn, including the replacement." [HR][/HR] The skies were grey and pouring rain as night fell in the City of Towers. In Middle Dura, traffic on the bridges was high as the citizens scrambled to their tenements to find shelter from the weather. In the Callestan district, the coming of night meant that work of the seedier trades would start. The bordellos, the dreamlily dens, the gambling halls; all the vices would throw open their doors to welcome all with coin. Through the narrow alleys, a large hulking Orc, hooded and cloaked, threaded its way among the refuse and the derelict squatters, hiding in the boxes and makeshift shelters. Finally, he came to a nearly empty alley, with only a single occupant. A sleeping old woman covered in wet and torn copies of the ‘Sharn Inquisitive’, coughing fitfully in her sleep. The hulking Orc stepped around the supine woman and stopped at a weathered door and thumped on it twice quickly. After a moment, the door opened, admitting the figure inside. “Took yer time Mobad,” a gruff Orc voice said in the shadows of the room. Inside a half dozen leather cloaked brutes were busy stuffing items into sacks and packs on a large trestle table. “The shifter wouldn’t pay, Markan. I had to break things first. Then I broke him a bit,” Mobad said, pulling down his hood. His long, dank hair was wet, despite the coverings, and water dripped from his grey skin. His small black eyes looked tired and frustrated. “But Boromars showed up before I could finish. I ran.” Mobad finished with distaste. Markan moved out of the shadows with a coffer and stuffed it into a nearby pack on the table. “We’ve lost then. The Boromars sense our weakness; we have lost territory. And now…now we lost four more to—” “To Boromars or Daask?” Mobad asked almost unconcerned with the answer. “Neither. To [I]him.[/I]” Markan spat. “’The Blade?’” Mobad said dispassionately. “Yes, ‘The Blade’! We’re done here.” Mobad nodded. Then he looked around at the activity in packing. “Why are we packing up?” “That’s a good question,” Markan said with a hostile tone. “It’s bad enough that the Boromars want to finish us off. And Daask…well we keep targeting the same places and they are much stronger than we. Add this ‘Blade’ into the mix…Its hopeless. I’d be content to wait it out, but we can’t. Perhaps [I]you[/I] can explain?” Markan said stepping next to the Orc. “Me? What are you talking about?” “You dumb brute; you had two jobs. Beat up who I say for money, and not be followed. And now you show up here with no money, and you were followed.” “Was not!” “Really? Then how did a gargoyle know to find you here?” Mobad blinked in puzzlement. “Gargoyle?” “A House Vadalis gargoyle, banged on the door howling [B][I]your[/I][/B] name! I took the letter from it so it would leave.” And Markan thrust an opened envelope at the baffled orc. “This is supposed to be a secret hideout! And you are taking mail here?” Mobad stood there with a blank look and looked at the letter. On the outside the letter simply had his name ‘Mobad’ on the front. Frowning he took the opened letter and read: “To ‘Wanted Criminal Mobad’? And now it says Dark Lanterns are looking into our gang? We’re leaving,” Markan said angrily. “I will get my things,” Mobad said simply. “Yes. But you are [B][I]not[/I][/B] coming with us. [B][I]You[/I][/B] are going to talk to this Melisandre and squeeze out of her what she knows.” “How will I find you later?” Mobad asked. “We’ll find [B][I]you[/I][/B]. Now go before you bring down more trouble on our heads.” Mobad sighed, and pulled up the hood to his cloak, and without another word left the gang’s former safehouse, walking back into the pouring rain. He started to thread his way back to the main bridge way and work his way upwards to find a skycoach to take him to Tavick’s landing. Above him, another figure stayed pressed to the shadows of his perch in on a balcony. The figure was dressed in a black cloak, with a cowl covering most of his head. A ridged mask of leather on his forehead kept water clear from his eyes. Eyes focused on the doorway that one of the Orc gang members just departed. The cowled figure considered losing an arrow at the departing Orc, but decided against it. That one wasn’t the important one. The leader, Markan was. Letting an arrow fly and warning Markan wasn’t the plan. He relaxed the tension on the bowstring and waited. He knew that the gang was on the losing end of a turf war and were being pushing out from the small amount of territory it controlled. The Boromars were once seen as unassailable and ruthless and none dared challenged them for territory. But that was before Daask started to make a mess of things. The big criminal operations, like the Tyrants, and House Tarkhanan had nothing to fear. Daask seemed to have it out only for the Boromar clan. But now the clan had to deal with the middle-sized upstarts looking to move up. And while the Boromars seemed unable to deal with Daask, it could deal with the smaller gangs, and did harshly. But sometimes they moved, a bit slower than justice’s patience had. Or at least, The Blade’s. He watched and waited, and he started to become concerned. The pattern was off; normally the other orcs would have left to press their luck on evening shakedowns, after a pair of them did their sunset shakes. But only one had returned this evening, and the same one left again. Beyond that one, none of the others left the little dingy hovel in the back alley. Then a motion caught his eye. From both ends of the alley, a dozen men, split evenly into two groups approached the door quietly. The Blade pulled his bow beside him and flattened himself into the shadows and watched. As the dozen men approached the door, he saw that there were two contingents of the Sharn Watch had gathered at each of the alley’s exits. This was a pleasant surprise to see them actively engaged. But the dozen below weren’t dressed as members of the Watch. They were dressed in mostly black cloth and stained leathers. Suddenly, the dozen men flooded through the door like it wasn’t even there. Two remained outside while there was a sound of a scuffle. There were sounds of steel on flesh, and a struggle. Finally, two men emerged dragging an orc sized figure out with them, in chains. The others exited the hovel, swords sheathed. The Blade frowned, this wasn’t normal either and he listened, as the men conversed below. “You find them?” “No…but the boss here might know.” “Let’s ask him.” He squinted to get a better view of the Orc prisoner and was surprised to see that around the Orc’s head was a black leather bag. As they approached the end of the alley, an unremarkable skycoach dropped from above, and the two men threw the unconscious orc onboard. They then boarded the coach, and it sped away in the rain. The others in the alley departed one at a time from each end, leaving the hovel and its door wide open. The Blade stepped out of the shadows and climbed down a drain pipe that clung on the tower wall, till he reached the alley floor, not a foot away from the old sleeping woman, who coughed for a brief moment. He pulled out his coiled leather whip and then quickly and silently he moved to the hovel and darted inside. The interior was dark, but The Blades vision was unimpacted by the lack of light. Around the floor were bodies still warm, blood pooling beneath them. They seemed to be packing goods and wealth, ready to bolt. The Blade, moved to the table in the center of the room, and opened one of the packs still sitting there. Inside were bags of coin, copper and silver mostly. Untouched, and unsearched. The Blade’s heart quickened a step, and he hurried to the door exiting the hovel. Looking around and above, he quickly hung his bow over his shoulder, and then hung the whip at his belt. Keeping his head down he exited the alley and merged into the now busy crowd on the main causeway, the Sharn Watch mysteriously missing. It took some time to get back to his apartment in Lower Dura. Of course, The Blade took a meandering path through crowds before he arrived in Oldkeep. Here the poor paid little attention to the goings on of neighbors. Staring at them was as likely to cause a fight, and no one’s life was worth an indiscriminate stare. Still he was cautious, and he travelled in the darkened alleys cautiously. Finally, he darted into an alley, and made his way to a heavy oak door. He quickly produced a key, popped open the lock, and swiftly entered the apartment and secured the door behind him. He leaned his back on the closed door and he breathed a sigh of relief. But he was concerned; the Dark Lanterns rarely involved themselves in low crimes of Dura. And they didn’t find who they were looking for. He took of his cloak and peeled the wet mask away from his face. Moving to the rough paneled wall, he pushed on a board and opened a concealed cupboard, with a drain at the bottom and hooks for clothing, some already holding fine outer wear. It was several hours later when the finely dressed elf arrived by skycoach at the Seinessa tower in Oak Towers, in Upper Northedge. His face was deep in thought however, as he walked towards the double doors on the balcony landing. He produced a key, and unlocked the doors, and entered. The upper foyer was reserved for close company and family, and the hour was late. So, the tower floor being empty wasn’t a terrible surprise. The elf took off the light leather cloak and hung it on a nearby hook to dry. He then made his way upstairs to his room, a floor up. He threw open the door, and flopped down on a divan, tired and sore. This evening had not been what he had expected to say the least. “You’re early sir. The sun hasn’t even made her presence known in the east, and yet here you are,” a Warforged intoned, carrying a silver platter. “If you had notified me of your change of schedule…no correction, told me your schedule to start with I might have—” “—Told me to fix it myself. Thanks Reeve.” “Of course. A letter arrived for you shortly after you left this evening,” and he offered the silver platter with a white missive on it. “A letter? Probably Delling wanting me to talk to my mother again,” he said dismissively not reaching for it. “I don’t think so. I have been using those letters for the cooking fire; this one is different.” The elf frowned and took the offered letter and glanced at it briefly before tearing it open. As he read it, his heart quickened its pace: Research and Staffing “This is not good,” Adrian muttered to himself. “And I guess this Medani has answers to questions I didn’t know I had. Until now. Reeves?” he addressed the Warforged standing silently nearby expectantly. “Tell my parents I am going out of town for a while.” [HR][/HR] The rain didn’t let up, and the old woman stirred in her nest of Inquisitives. She slowly stood and picked up the wooden staff she was laying on, and made her way down the alley, only taking a cursory glance at the hovel. She saw bodies, and a table of packed goods and little else. She continued into the main causeway and followed the crowd quietly to the adjacent tower. Unhurried, she slowly made her way towards a boarding house, with its windows covered with boards to keep the meager possessions inside safe. She moved into the alley next to it, where the stench of rotten meat and slop hung in the air. She moved towards a stone stair that led into the side of the boarding house and bent down. Tracing her finger around the bricks, she grasped the edge of a loose one, and pulled it away from the stair. Inside was a folded slip of parchment. Nodding to herself, she pulled it out. Like most messages it was encoded. Unlike most, it was somewhat verbose. “What in the?” the woman muttered. “I just started getting a handle following these Lanterns, and that odd pretender. Now…this?” Doxx frowned. “And Denning? There isn’t anything out there but ranches!” She snapped her fingers and a quick gout of flame incinerated the letter. She replaced the brick and moved back into the thoroughfare muttering to herself. “I can only hope that I got better than steerage on the Rail out.” [HR][/HR] “I notice that we are travelling west, and not south. So, where am I going and why?” I asked. “For the moment, it’s for a simple reason but a thorny problem that must be solved,” Taryn started. “But first, here’s a quandary for you. Do you know how many tons of meat that a three thousand Mror army needs for a week?” I shook my head and he continued. “About two tons. Now once we start marching, and we overwhelm the enemy we need about eight times that, plus a constant supply line. Now of course, once we take the mine, we need less, but you get the idea; without food an army goes nowhere. So, two years ago, I made contracts with every ranch in Karrnath for their cattle in preparation. And therein lies the problem.” “What problem?” I said unclear on the issue. “The main ranches I contracted with haven’t delivered, and messages haven’t been getting through either. The most likely explanation is—” “—Orcs? Jhorash’tar right?” “Good guess, but no. Melisandre believes it is Ogres.” “Ogres?” I said dubiously. “Yes…the western side of the Ironroots have quite a number of them, and they are cunning and eager to eat horseflesh, and cattle alike.” “I am not a rancher you realize.” “No of course not. What I need you to do is to scout ahead and find out exactly what’s been going on. Then you will meet back with your other members of your group and take action.” “Wait…alone? I don’t even—” I protested. “I have arranged for a number of Blademarks to accompany you and guide you to the ranches north of Denning,” Melisandre said. “And time is somewhat pressing,” Taryn continued. “We can’t wait for the others arrive, as they are probably two weeks behind us. So, you will go with the Blademarks, find out what is going on, and then return to Denning where the group of you will address it, however you feel best.” I set down the brandy and massaged my temple with my right hand. “You have made the assumption that I agreed to do this you realize? What exactly are you offering here?” “Well, Kaelin Skolhanker is…generous. For skilled personnel such as you, percentage of profits from the mine for five years. With a guaranteed floor of a thousand gold coin a year. However, the payout is expected to be far higher. More like ten times that.” I leaned forward in disbelief, “That…that is impressive. All for finding…cows.” “Well, there will be other expected work of course, but…in essence yes,” Taryn said smiling, leaning back. “All you need to do is sign.” Debrika’s silence was broken by her reaching into a small bag at her side, and from its interior withdrew a large book. A book that I was certain could not have fit into that bag, and she laid it none to gently on the table, causing the glasses and flatwear to jump on the table along with me in my seat. I squinted at it the large tome in confusion and pointed at it. “And that is?” “The contract.” Taryn said mildly. “The [B][I]whole[/I][/B] book?” I said looking at it with trepidation. “Well…there are room for addendums, but it is really a standard Mror business contract.” Taryn said taking another gulp of his drink. I opened the book and looked at the text inside. I could tell it was in a dwarvish script, which didn’t concern me. But Taryn reached over, and turned the pages to near the end saying, “And you sign here.” I took his hand from the page and moved it aside and turned the pages back to the beginning. “I don’t sign contracts without reading them.” Taryn blinked in surprise, and I noticed that Debrika raised an eyebrow and I think gave me a slight smile, while Melisandre chuckled. “I don’t think I have seen some one insistent on reading a standard contract before,” Taryn said. I looked at him in the eyes, “Where I come from contracts…have a high price if you don’t read them. Usually a cost most people really can’t afford. So, while I don’t exactly see you as a soulmonger, a habit is a habit.” “Take your time, you can agree in the morning if you like. Anyway, Debrika and I have some work to finish this evening. And we can discuss any questions you might have, after you’ve had an evening to think on it. Good night then, Myrai. I do hope we will be doing business together.” And he smiled and took my hand gently and squeezed it, while Debrika gave me a curt nod. And then both returned to the First Class cars, leaving Melisandre and I alone. Melisandre smiled and chuckled, “You are a pleasure. So surprising, and so much potential. I have no doubts you’re are the right person for this. Please accept.” I motioned, and the large book closed and then floated off the table, to hang in the air with my rod. “I was serious on what I said with contracts.” I replied. The Khorvar nodded, “Yes I know that…but please do. But think of it as a…favor to me. I did tell Vernan to assist you after all.” I looked at Melisandre, my eyes narrowing. “So, you did have a hand in my…freedom. Why do I warrant that much attention? Seems…I don’t know, a bit much for dealing with cows.” The woman shrugged, “Remember what I said that my House does? We anticipate threats, even if we don’t always know where they might come from. And while I don’t know everything that might happen; I am certain that you, and the others, are the right people to deal with the challenges ahead. No matter the cause or the source.” And she smiled again and stood up to my surprise. “I too must apologize, but I also have some preparations before we get off at Cattbron tomorrow afternoon. We can talk more then.” And she straightened out the front of her dress and passed by me, heading where Taryn went. But she paused as she stood next to me. “And you do look quite fetching in that dress. Keep it,” she said smiling. “Even if I say no?” “Sure. But call it intuition; you won’t.” And she made her way to the curtains, which were held out of her way by a Warforged attendant. I sat there looking out the panes of glass at the now darkened landscape, reflecting. I didn’t know Melisandre, but she reminded me of old planewalkers in the Society of Sensation. Some would call them ‘jaded’ but the truth was more complex. The older one got in the Society, the more one tended to close themselves off to new ideas, experiences or concepts. After all, they had seen so much, that it colored everything they saw in the present. Melisandre gave me that same impression; very experienced, very certain. Almost too much so. I didn’t know her, and perhaps her experience was dead on. But something nagged at me that she knew more than she was telling, and the only thing I was certain of was this: I didn’t know the right questions to ask. [B]Session Notes:[/B] And that makes seven. The players wanted a lot of background impacting the adventure. And so there was a lot of story and some untended consequences. Well at least for the players that is. But it worked. As a side note; the town Denning noted in Doxx's note. was named in honor of Troy Denning. The reason for that, was this adventure was originally planned to be run in the Forgotten Realms, in the area of Hartsvale and some of the information from from the novels in the "Twilight's Giants" was used to start the background, and a new central town was needed. But the players decided that Eberron would be more interesting. So the town was kept, and everything was moved. [/QUOTE]
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