A daring escape earlier this morning from Sharn’s Citadel prison lit the city with fear and speculation. Witnesses claim the figure dove purposely from the airship just as the airship elemental escaped from its binding. In the chaos he plummeted down the length of the Citadel tower and disappeared into the mists of the Cogs below. Our sources tell us he was scheduled to be shipped to Karnnath’s Dreadhold prison.
His escape is further obscured by the crashing ship and crew that followed him soon after, splintering on the cliffs of Myshan Gardens below. Authorities are not commenting, though a substantial reward is being offered for his capture. So take note all you amateur inquisitives, you could be on your way to becoming a star if you can catch the immolated madman.
- as always, Ravan Telo
With a firm press the coin slides into the book’s circular indentation and locks into place. The arcane strap looses from its bonds and the book opens with a crackle of static. Almost immediately scrawled words appear on the page echoing in your mind with a familiar female voice. As usual the head of House Tarkanan speaks precisely to the point.
Karlov "Ash" d’Vadalis
Wanted for eco terrorism near the Icewood of Karrnath.
Known Associates: Ashbound druid cult
Last seen crossing the Aundair border near Cragwar. Unconfirmed sightings in Dura and Cliffside. Ashbound cultists seen recently at Vundry’s Curiosities in The Bazaar (Middle Dura).
Unique Characteristics: Missing nose bitten/burned off in ritualistic scarring and an affinity for bats.
Send him to The Keeper by any means necessary.
It's a warm humid night and your office has settled into the quiet of the end of the day. The blades of the Ghallanda cooling fan spin softly above, but the dimly lit Eberron shards dotting its surface do little more than move the hot air around. A gift from a grateful client, it’s a grim reminder that your last big case was months ago.
A silhouette appears through the mottled glass of your office door followed by a second larger one. They pause for a minute in muffled conversation, then the door swings open revealing two figures cloaked in thick blue cloth. A large half-orc quickly sizes you up through narrowed eyes glinting mail barely concealed beneath his cloak.
The smaller figure steps forward placing a reassuring hand on the half-orc’s chest. Her embroidered hood slides back to reveal a refined elven face. Though she moves with the ease and grace of nobility, there is a hint of desperation in her eyes.
"Excuse the hour. I am in need of your services."
You slip into the shadows of the alley behind your makeshift warehouse hideout, hand tightly grasping a new coin purse. The echoes of muffled shouts passes by outside as your eyes adjust to the dim light. You can hear the joking and carrying on inside of the Copperheads, though their excitement seems a bit higher than normal.
"He's a mute. Look at him."
"Naw, he's just too stupid to talk. My ma said there were kids like that."
"You never knew your ma, stupid."
As you round the corner you can see they're crowded around a new face. A younger boy staring forward wide eyed, almost oblivious to the others surrounding him. He seems to be looking straight through you.
You step off the Orien lightning rail feeling the residual soft static in the air. Your eyes scan the crowd of passengers again as they file out and spread out into the city. The wide halls of Sharn’s Terminus station spark old memories of a simpler time, but you dig into your bag and refocus on the task at hand. Once again you look over your notes on the fugitive:
Karlov “Ash” d’Vadalis - rising leader of local Ashbound druid cell wanted for terrorizing towns near Icewood. Responsible for firebombing many private and government buildings. Last seen crossing the Aundair border near Cragwar. Believed to be headed for Sharn.
A crudely drawn sketch shows a face disfigured by ritual scarring. His nose is missing and appears to have been burnt off.
Replacing the papers in your bag you notice a sky coach waiting nearby marked with the chimera emblem of House Deneith. An attendant armored in dark green studded leather stands outside the coach’s open door looking into the crowd expectantly.
You awake from another nightmare, sweat dripping and heart pounding. They've been happening more frequently the past week. But this one was different. You grasp at faint memories. Visions of ruined buildings with large glass shards protruding from them. You were chasing something...someone. A small figure running from you, but your large legs easily overtake it. A boy's face...wide eyed and crying.
Shaking off the dream you open the shutters to the noonday sun. It was another late night trolling the streets of Dura gathering information:
Pacing around the boy and looking him up and down, he finds the position of the phantom object the boy must be looking at. Crouching low next to the mute, he brushes his hair out of his eyes and squints.
Frowning, he turns to look the boy in the face.
"No. I don't see it, whatever it is. Anyway, you don't need to talk to be a Copperhead, but you do need to prove yourself, and you do need your ring. You think you can do that?"
Syn waits to see if he's really mute, or perhaps dumb as well.
The boy continues to stare blankly ahead as you move around him, though his head and eyes move slowly as if studying the air in front of him.
"Tell him, Karlo," one of the half-elf/half-orc twins says. You're still not sure which.
Karlo, human refugee from Cyre, sheepishly looks up at you. His family barely escaped the Day of Mourning that destroyed their country, but his parents died soon after they arrived in Sharn. Like many other survivors from the Mournland they slowly wasted away from arcane cancerous growths.
"I was..." Karlo pauses looking guilty, "...out in the ruins alone."
"Just looking around," Karlo quickly adds, then points to the mute boy, "He saved me from the ravers."
The mute boy suddenly jumps up and grasps your shirt with both hands.
"Ravers! In the glass tower!" the boy blurts out, looking distraught.
As the two enter, Gryn takes both of them in, thinking to himself, A woman at this hour? Definitely trouble. Hopefully the kind that'll give me a few more months here.
Standing to his feet, he watches the half-orc's reaction as he greets her, "It's never too late for such beauty, particularly when she needs my help. Gryn Stonefield at your service. Please, have a seat and tell me what troubles you." As she sits, he looks her over as well, disguising searching eyes as appreciative ones, looking on either for any symbols or markings indicating affiliation, getting a feel for them.
The elven woman sits delicately in the seat, though she leans forward in unconscious anxiety as she talks.
"I need you to find my son." She blurts out the words pleadingly, but quickly recovers her composure. "It has been a long day. Mr. Stonefield, is it? You must understand the gravity of my situation. My son was home visiting from school and simply vanished. Will you help me find him? I will pay whatever is necessary."
Looking over the pair, the elf appears to be woman of means with no clear affiliation and the half-orc, a well outfitted bodyguard. Their closeness suggests a long term working relationship, though the half-orc wears the crest of the Watchful Eye beneath his cloak, marking him as a member of Deneith's Defenders Guild.
"I will need some information to start. His name, a picture if you have one, a list of friends and lovers, and any enemies if he should have any. Or you for that matter. Where he went to school, what he was studying. When you last saw him, why you think he is missing. And any other pertinent details you find necessary to provide."
"What did I say about going out alone? Especially since Rix hasn't been seen in a week? What is it going to take? Gods!"
Composing himself, Syn turns back to the new boy.
"Well, I suppose you aren't dumb and deaf, but you still might be dumb. I'm sure Karlo is grateful for your help. Now, tell me more about these ravers? Did they follow you?
He glances around the area to see if there are any others he doesn't recognize...
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Crime doesn't pay?:
Criminal Purpose: Typical Costs
Fence stolen goods: 15% of item value
Burglary: 20% of stolen goods' value (up to 5x price for difficulty)
Assassination: 300gp per level of target (up to 5x price for difficulty)
Forged identification papers: 10gp
Forged letter of marque: 25gp
Forged travelling papers: 5gp
Loans: up to 20% interest per week
Information: 1gp x "gather information" DC
Spellcasting, no questions asked: 125% normal cost
There are a few suspicious figures you've been tracking through the crowd and you note he's picked up on a few also, though they all give the private skycoach a wide berth. The attendant perks up as you approach.
"Marshall Kaern?" He extends a gloved hand to inspect your identification. "Lord Sadran would like to speak with you immediately."
As you grasp her hand the woman visibly stiffens, her face taking on an air of nobility. Her hands are simple and unadorned with jewelry. As you let go you notice the half-orc calmly watching you with a silent stare.
She listens to your questions quietly nodding. After a brief pause she inhales deeply.
"I would appreciate your discretion in this matter. I've come to you for your relative anonymity." She stares at her hands intently and sighs. "When my son came home two days ago. It was quite unexpected. He's been away from home for several years studying at a school for exceptional young boy's and rarely is allowed visits. I'd like to preserve the integrity of the institution for the moment. They are doing what they can to find him, but their resources are limited in this type of situation."
"As far as locating my son, I fear these may be all you will require. It's all he's been drawing since he's been home." She retrives a scroll tube from under cloak and lays out several crude drawings of a building seemingly impaled by a glass tower.
As you turn back, the boy's face is awash with confusion and fear.
"I...I don't know...I saw them...in the green glass..." He trails off looking around the room as if for the first time.
Karlo pipes in. "I saw them, Syn. There was five...no, six of them Black Claws all shifting and biting and stuff. Then he jumps in all pow, pow, pow and the next thing I know they're all laid out." He pauses looking for approval. "And then we got the he...heck out of there."
Raising an eyebrow and looking more closely at the boy, Syn's curiosity was even more piqued.
"Six, eh? You must have magic in your blood."
He takes a closer look into the boy's eyes, and cupping the boy's chin he examines him closely for scars or marks (dragon or otherwise).
"Tell me more about the green glass, and...well, where you come from? We don't let just anyone be a Copperhead, you know. Although...there's something about you...hmm"
"I wanted a bigger job, and a hit is pretty big" The young man thinks. He has an idea of where the shop might be, but he was ever one for knowing as much as he could before hand.
Thus, he decided it was time to pay his lady friend inside House Phiarlan, and see if he couldn't get some extra intel.
He makes his way to the small cafe where they always meet, and takes his usual seat. She had 'eyes' on the place, so she knew he would be there. It would just be a matter of time before she showed.
Fenrir opens up his window and stretches, Damn these nightmares to the Nine Hells. Why's it got to be me? Could use a few good nights sleep every now and then. After taking a long look out the window taking in the scenery, Fenrir heads to the front of his simple living space to grab the Sharn Inquisitive. Flipping nonchalantly through the pages he stumbles upon an article detailing the escaped convict. After reading the article Fenrir shakes his head, Ravan Telo needs to get stabbed, probably responsible for more than a few deaths everyday. Always telling the inexperienced they could make it big, that's how stupid people get hurt... And get in my way.
Fenrir sighs and starts a pot of coffee as his thoughts move towards his plans for the day. I guess I should try to figure out what the Boromar's are up to, but first things first, might as well stop by Vundry's, see what she has to say about them black coats that came in the other day. She might also know what the Boromar's are planning.
After drinking his coffee and checking over all of his gear Fenrir Heads down into The Bazaar for Vundry's. "Hey there Ms. Vundry, how goes business today? Hope those two visitors you had the other day didn't scare off your "regulars" too bad." His voice insinuating the unsaid implications.
Looking over the drawings, Gryn takes them to memory. "Is it alright if I keep these? It may help me locate him."
Gryn then shifts in his seat, taking a more professional posture. "I will make every effort for discretion in this case. Has he discussed these drawings with your since he's returned? Anyone he's talked to or maybe discussed with you? Anyone hanging around you haven't recognized before? If you don't wish to divulge his friends, that's fine. I'm sure his school will follow those leads. I'm looking for anyone you thought was suspicious."
The boy still seemed confused, but you're able to calm him down. "I'm not sure. I saw them...in the green glass." He looks around at the living quarters looking for some place out of the way. "I just need a place to stay..."
You take your time examining the boy. He offers no resistance. In fact he's overly submissive. There doesn't seem to be much dirt on him compared to most people in these parts. He's showered within the last couple of days. And his nails, etc. have been well kept, like a child of wealth.
Also you do notice an odd red tattoo poking out from under his hair behind his left ear. From your experience you can tell it's not something that's been inked on, but most likely magical.
You don't recall anything about "in the green glass." Also you know what Karlo is known for exaggerating his stories.
The attendant returns your identification after a quick glance. You can tell he was paying more attention to your movements and reactions than the ID itself, but he does take a moment to match your face to the photo.
You enter the roomy sky coach and it immediately lurches upward off the balcony towards the towers above. You can see Sharn's great chasm below you with hints of the fires and smoke of industry peaking through the ever present mist.
The attendant leans forward to talk with periodic glances out the windows. "Lord Sadran is anxious to meet with you. He instructed me to stress the importance of this mission and that time is of the essence. And that he is getting pressure from above on this one."
The skycoach soars toward the more northern and upscale Central Plateau. The towers get visibly brighter and more ornate as you rise hundreds of feet into the air.
As the driver begins to weave through the towers of the Dragonmarked Houses a small black bird zips in through the open window and hovers before you. You notice a small sealed scroll tube grasped in its feet.
You sit for a few minutes in the secluded booth. The waiters bring you some water and bread, but otherwise leave you alone. Most of the patrons are mid level merchants or families out for lunch. Mila says likes to watch the kids play, but also for the many out of towners with loose tongues and news from abroad. It doesn't take much to eavesdrop here and everyone blends in.
After a short while an older elven waiter brings over a purple candle engraved with a House Sivis emblem and sets a couple of tinder twigs on the table next to it. He smiles and nods to you, his face morphing into a younger man. "It's better for tips." Then whisks away to a table of older women.
Mila joins you soon after. She's spry as always, movements like a dancer, though easily 10 times your age. She lights the candle on the table and the background noise in the room fades to a low murmur.
"So what brings you here on this fine day?"
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Communication Prices:
House Sivis message station - 5gp/page (including courier service +15sp)
House Sivis: whispering wind - 50gp
House Sivis: sending - 250gp
House Orien: unmarked courier - 5cp
House Orien: Least marked courier - 1gp
House Orien: Lesser marked courier - 25gp (+1gp/mile)
House Orien: teleport - 10gp/mile
House Orien mail service - 1cp/mile
House Vadalis gargoyle courier - 5gp (+1gp/mile)
The walk to the Bazaar is pleasant. The district is a much different place in the daylight. The Bazaar market itself is humming with activity as usual. Merchants everywhere pushing their wares toward you, the regulars less so, but their eyes are still hungry for gold.
Vundry's Curiosities sits squarely in the great central square of the market. You push through the crowd, brushing off a stray pickpocket or two and walk through the open door.
Your words die out in the still air without answer as you realize there's no one behind the counter. Though the curtain to the back has been pulled slightly open.
The drawings spark a memory of local holiday called Crystalfall where artisans carve towers made of ice and throw them into the Dagger River or one of Sharn's large chasms. It's in memory to a Glass Tower that once floated above the towers of Sharn. Decades ago it fell from the sky and shattered into one of the districts of Lower Dura, now a dangerous slum known as Fallen. It's said the spirits of those who died that day haunt the area.
"Yes, please keep them. There are many more and I can't bear to look at them any more." She seems to relax a bit as if a burden has been lifted. "Since coming home from school, he spent most of his time locked up in his room...drawing...and..." She shuts her eyes as a tear slides down her cheek. She wipes it away with an embroidered handkerchief and continues. "He's been walking in his sleep...muttering something about the voices in the glass."
Reflexes taking over, Kaern slides his dagger out from the sheath at the small of his back where he keeps it secreted for just such as possible attack as he studies the bird.
"your reg-you...lars," Fenrir's voice slows and peters off once he realizes Vundry isn't behind the counter. Surprised at not finding the little woman in the front of her store he calls out towards the back room, "Ms. Vundry!! Are you back there? Keeping people waiting is bad for business!" How very strange, usually she is to the counter before the door ever closes.
Fenrir moves about the shop and picks up a few odds and ends keeping an eye on the back room. Picking up a blue ball a small red spark jumps onto Fenrir's hand, "Ahh." Blasted Gnome, needs to keep this kind of thing out of reach. She has the strangest things in this store.
"Ms. Vundry? You there?" Fenrir calls one last time, his hand moving to his Scimitar. Moving to the counter Fenrir draws the the blade and parts the curtains with the tip ready to retreat should anything jump out.
The tiny bird continues to hover in front of you it's head transfixed in one place as if hypnotized. The tiny black scroll tube now dangles from it's feet from a leather cord.
The Deneith attendant raises an eyebrow seemingly as perplexed as you. "Who else knows you're in town?"
As you pull back the curtain you feel your eyes quickly adjust to the dim light of the back room office. The gnome shopkeeper is bound and gagged in a small chair near the far wall , her head limply cradled in the hand of a teenage boy dressed in black and gray leathers. His eyes glow a brilliant green and you catch a flicker of movement as a translucent green blade forms in his other hand.
Nulmanen smiles and nods at the waiter, and orders a bottle of elven wine.
When Mila arrives, he pours them both a glass "Oh you know, a little of this, a lot of that" He says with grin. They had known each other for five years now and had developed a flirtatious relationship. It had yet to go much further, but it could.
"Got my first serious job. I need some intel, and you're one of the best. What can you tell me about one Karlov "Ash" d’Vadalis??, aside from his affiliations with the Ashbound?"
"Can you tell me more about this sleep walking? Is he trying to go someplace or just wanders aimlessly? Any little bit may help find him. Also I'll need to have someway to contact you, even if it's by you sending someone to see me." Gryn looks over to the half-orc at that, seeing his reaction.
Checking the bird and scroll tube for any possible threat, Kaaern begins to reach to untie the cord from the bird's feet.
Travel times:
A Knowledge(local) DC 15 can halve this timeBy foot
Destination in same district: 3d6 minutes
Destination in same ward: 6d6 minutes
Destination in adjacent ward: 3d6 x 5 minutes
Destination farther than adjacent ward: 6d6 x 5 minutes Skycoach or Flying
Destination in same district: 1d6 minutes
Destination in same ward: 2d6 minutes
Destination in adjacent ward: 1d6 x 5 minutes
Destination farther than adjacent ward: 2d6 x 5 minutes
"He's here fresh from Karrnath, but that I'm sure you know. What he's doing here is a matter of debate, though he certainly seems to be traveling in some interesting circles. For the moment he's managed to disappear into Dura, but Deneith's sent a Marshall after him. Tracked him through Aundair and arrived here just this morning."
"In his sleep walking he called out names, grasping in the air...names I can only guess were his human family, lost in the Day of Mourning. When I adopted my son he was given the elven name Grisalen, but he prefers his common name from the orphanage, Ethan. He will know I sent you if you use his true elvish name." She places a coin purse on the table. You see the glint of platinum inside and estimate about 30 coins. The half-orc glances over his shoulder toward you, but seems preoccupied with keeping an eye outside.
"I trust this will get you started. We will stay in contact through a secure Sivis lock box. You can drop off or pick up messages at any Sivis station with my code: BOCTPOC141." You recognize it as a Sivis station code for a district in Tavick's Landing and with the low number most likely in the upper towers.
The bird continues to float in front of you dazed, but flapping it's wings to stay in place. The scroll tube seems to be made of ordinary black leather.
The bird's leg hangs limp as you untie the cord. It still floats numbly in front of you. The black leather case opens easily revealing a rolled up note inside.
Fenrir crouches low and attempts to circle his opponent getting attempting to get closer to Vundry, keeping his sword slightly off to one side in one hand. "So we got a mind wielder, what do you plan on doing with the little gnome? Doubt she has anything you want... Well at least nothing you couldn't buy." Fenrir grips his scimitar tightly in his right hand ready for whatever the boy throws at him. What organization does he belong too?
Fenrir doesn't attack on the first round if he goes first attempting just to move around into the room to get closer to Vundry. Taking care to keep his defenses up.
If Fenrir goes second and the boy has approach and attacked then he will attmept to shift closer to Vundry and return the attack.
Gryn sets the coin purse aside for the moment, "I should have enough information to start my investigation then. I'll let you know as soon as I discover anything." He stands to show her out, making sure to respectfully keep his distance this time. He pauses for a moment, "Just a minor thing, probably of no consequence. The name of the orphanage he's from? I doubt it would be necessary but it would provide one more location to rule out."
You move quickly to the side as the green blade flies from his hand toward you. It slams into the wall, quickly dissipating and you see another take it's place in his hand. His face is focused and impassioned as he let's Vundry's head limply fall to the side.
You see her face melt into a sad smile. "Thank you."
Nodding to the half-orc she stands up to leave. After some hesitation she says, "Boldrei's Hope in High Walls. He was so alone, even there."
With that the two figures disappear behind the mottled glass of your front door and you are left with the soft spinning fan blades above you.
You also feel something shift in the bottom of the tube like the size of a marble. Through the center of the rolled up paper you see something red.
Nul chuckles a bit, enjoying the back and forth with Mila, as usual "A Marshall huh? They can be useful, unless they're stupid. I hope this one isn't stupid."
He smiles then "You know your House is my favorite. You and a few others have always given me an assist or heads up when able. Anything I can do to return the favor of this info?"
Syn considers the mark for a moment, trying to recall if he's seen it in any of his books.
Then to the boy;
"Well, you have the thanks of the Copperheads that you kept Karlo alive. We could use someone like you to help us out. We help each other out. You understand? Look after each other. It's dangerous out here."
Syn frowns. The boy seemed amiable, but was still an outsider. Looking to Karlo;
"Hm. Well, he saved you, least you can do is get him a piece of bread and some water. And get your brother while you're at it. "
Then putting a hand on the new boy's shoulder, Syn looks at him;
"How about we start at the begining...what's your name? How did you end up down here?"
"I'm not afraid of killing you and I'll find out whatever you know sooner or later. It would be really nice of you to make this easy for me."
What's illegal in Sharn?:
Contraband
- Drugs: Absentia, "Dragon's Blood", Dreamlily, and most other addictive substances
- Blank pages notarized by House Sivis
- Any poison that can inflict more than 1 point of Con damage, permanent damage to any ability, or more than 1d6 damage to any ability.
Restricted use items (not illegal, but may be confiscated)
- Any bane weapon that affects a humanoid creature
- Any type of poison that is not actually outlawed
- Any magic item that reproduces the effects of any of the following spells: cloudkill, chain lightning, circle of death, cone of cold, contagion, delayed blast fireball, disintegrate, finger of death, feeblemind, fireball, flesh to stone, greater shout, horrid wilting, ice storm, imprisonment, incendiary cloud, insanity, invisibility (including greater invisibility), lightning bolt, meteor swarm, disjunction, phantasmal killer, poison, polar ray, power word kill, soul bind, sunburst, or weird
"What's he doing? This is restricted airspace." The Deneith attendant is staring out the window at another skycoach flying next to you. This one is not marked with the Deneith insignia. Below you can hear shouts and scrambling of defenses on Sentinel Tower.
She pretends to blush. "Just knowing I've helped bring a dangerous fugitive to justice is good enough for me."
Through the smile you can see her mind turning as she swirls the wine in her glass. "Though now that you mention it, there is one thing you could do for me. That astonishing prison escape the other day. The word on the street is positively mute. Anything you could dig up for me I'd appreciate."
She winks and takes another sip of wine. "My House is my favorite also."
Karlo runs off to fetch the bread and water. The boy nods as you talk watching you attentively. When you ask him pointed questions his eyes dart to the side.
"Ethan. My name's Ethan." He says it almost as if he's trying to convince himself. "I was home...home from school...and then I heard their voices...too many voices..." He grabs his ears and squints his eyes tight. After a few moments he continues.
"They led me here...to the ruins. The glass tower...green glass...and then I was here." He looks at you with confusion in his eyes.
Your blade digs into the boy's leather armor leaving a fine red gash in his side. He ignores it, still staring at you intently as you slowly circle each other.
You feel something dig into your mind. Foreign words echo in your head. [i]"Do what you will with the boy, ratcatcher. I have what I've come for. I can taste your fear."
Sharp tendrils fill your head, wrenching nightmares from below the surface.
Curious about the whole situation, Gryn ponders a change. Checking out the coins left, he then deposits them in his safe. Better not to take anything extra with him. Hiding a dagger on his person, he makes sure his coat covers his rapier in case a fight breaks out. He hopes he's just paranoid, but better not to take chances. Locking up, he alters his features just enough to look a little older, a little weaker. Then Gryn ducks out the back to head towards the Fallen. Not for the first time, he wonders if he's coming back. It wouldn't have to be the ravers to get mugged and killed in an alley. But the rent was due.
Gryn begins heading out.
Kaern takes out a bottle of Alchemist's fire and readies to throw it while he scans the unmarked skycoach...
Squinting for a moment or two at the "dragonmark", Syn scratches his head.
Haven't seen that one before.
"Ethan. There's a strong name. Looks like you're touched Ethan. Touched by luck, touched by the gods, I can't say."
Leading Ethan to a place to sit, Syn grabs a blanket and gives it a quick whip to get most of the dust off of it. He puts it on the boy's shoulders and steps back a few feet. Putting his hand on his chin, he paces back and forth, lightly flicking the ring at the center of his lower lip with his thumb.
More talking to himself;
"What to do. What to do. This glass tower business seems important. But we've also got that you're obviously out of place here. Don't think most folk around here went to school, myself being the rare exception...now...should we try to get you home?"
Then, stopping, he pointedly directs his speech at the new boy Ethan.
"Could you take me to this glass tower, Ethan? I think the voices might be worth listening to. Worth investigating at least. Then maybe we can get you home some how. I have a friend in the watch you could maybe help you."
"What do you say?"
You slip out the back alley into the warm night air. Continual flames flicker in the street lights overhead. You follow the setting sun across the skybridge to Sharn's western reaches. Though far below, you can still feel the billowing steam of the Cogs, catching stray glimpses of the flames of industry.
Workers climb the long staircases up to their apartments in Kenton. You do your best to blend into the herd of trudging, soot-stained workers, little more than zombies as they split off to their homes. You follow the winding staircase down Caine Spire, the eyes of a large shifter community watching you closely as you descend into Lower Dura and the slums of Fallen. Here amid the ruins things are just a bit darker, grimier and you have the distinct impression eyes are watching you everywhere.
The rest of the night is spent walking the ruined streets of Fallen, a once proud temple district, now littered with the decaying remnants. You soon realize people here aren't fond of strangers and coin has little value, though isn't refused. Instead the locals have reverted to the simpler barter system of backwoods villages. After a bit you adjust to the local customs and find that as always liquor still loosens a few tongues.
No one seems to recognize the boy in particular, but stray children are not an uncommon occurrence here. Time and again you are pointed to Blackstone Church and the local keeper of the Flame inside, Faela. She seems to have earned a place of respect in the community and is know for taking in lost souls.
The driver of the other skycoach seems to be madly flying toward the tower with fear in his eyes. As you pull out your alchemist's fire, the door of the other skycoach opens spilling several small red berries into the air followed by a leaping body. His long black robes billow in the air as begins plummeting toward Sentinel Tower, grasping a large acorn in each hand.
You see fear pass over Ethan's face when you mention the glass tower, but you see him strain to push it aside.
"I...I don't know...I think so. But what about the ravers? They're everywhere. And the voices. What if I can't stop the voices?"
With the information provided, he makes his way to the Blackstone Church. Carefully he makes his way in, asking the nearest person he is able to find about Keeper Faela.
"Do you have a featherfall token on you?!" Kaern asks the house attendant.
The young man is quite for a few moments, thinking "I'll see what I can find. I have a contact in Deneith who might know something. I planned on paying him a visit after our meeting. He's an alright fellow, but not nearly as beautiful as you" He says with a playful smile.
You step into Blackstone Church. Small flames on the ground light the way down the center aisle leading to a large gray fire dominating the center of the room that sparkles with flecks of metal. The floor is made of black marble interspersed with veins of sparkling minerals. The church is cold and dark despite the many flames placed throughout and mostly empty, but you do see a few huddled forms in the corner chewing on scraps of bread.
The Deneith attendant stares at you with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, I always have at least one. Let me check. What exactly are you planning to do?" He rummages in a side pouch and pulls out a round chalk token inscribed with a pair of wings.
Outside the black robed figure continues to descend, his hood whipping back to reveal a mop of red hair and a scarred face missing a nose. Crossbow bolts zing through the air from the towers below, one catching the figure in the leg. Another lodges in the skycoach above him causing the driver to let out a weak scream.
"Flattery will get you everywhere in this business." She smiles and drains her wine glass. "I guess it's that time again for us to part ways. Until next time. A pleasure as always."
She licks her thumb and forefinger and squeezes the candle flame to a trail of smoke. The noise of the crowd fills the room once again. Mila lithely makes her way through the tables, dodging waiters and small children. She pauses at the table of a half-elf couple with a newborn in a high chair. Her face lights up as she plays with the baby and chats up the parents.
The waiter returns to your table to retrieve the candle and refills your glass from the wine bottle. His face flashes from human back to the older elf who served you earlier. "Can I get you anything else?"
Assuming that the attendant passes the token to him, once Kaern has it, he is going to pull open the door of the sky coach, ready his longsword and jump out, aiming for the figure falling below him, going into a straightened out downward dive to gain speed to catch up with him.
You grab the token from the wide-eyed attendant. He just stares at you as you dive out the open door. Both skycoaches peel away as more crossbow bolts litter the air. One bolt whistles past your head as another heads straight for your flailing arm.
Your sword pointed above your head you aim for the robed figure and drive the blade deep into his back. He screams out in agony, the acorns falling from his hands.
He turns his head to the side staring at you with one eye. He shouts back at you through the howling wind, blood dribbling from his lip. "All you have done is delay the inevitable. I am prepared to die, you fool. Are you? The Shadowlord is coming. There will be..."
He closes his eyes with a peaceful look on his face. "...RETRIBUTION!" With the last word there's an explosion of fire in the Deneith skycoach above . He looks a little surprised and frustrated.
As you stare at the frightened boy, you hear Karlo's voice behind you.
"Syn, Peter just came in. He's got some news. It's about..." His voice trails off with a guilty look.
Peter, an older boy, human with thick black hair stands a few inches above you though a year or so younger. He waits near the edge of the shadow by the alley entrance. His eyes flash on the new kid, then back to you, concern in his eyes.
"Ahhh!" Fenrir's focused face distorts into a grimace as the sharp voice pierces into his head. "Get out of my head!"
Fenrir reaserted his focus on the boy, "Your leader just gave you a death sentence.
Fenrir lunges at the boy now that he is no longer in much danger of hitting Vundry giving it his all.
Falling from the towers:
- The city offers a reward of 25gp to anyone who casts feather fall to save a falling person.
- Watch patrols usually carry a wand of feather fall for emergencies, but most don't have the ability to use it.
- Bridges in the Upper and Middle levels of the city have permanent feather fall wards activated by anything falling within 30ft.
Feather fall token:
- only lasts for a single round
- must be activated 60ft from the ground
Falling Speed (from 3.5 SRD)
- First round: 150ft
- Every round after: 300ft
Falling Damage (from Pathfinder SRD)
- 1d6 damage per 10ft fallen (max 20d6)
- DC 15 Acrobatics to negate 10ft
Magic
- Cannot cast a spell while falling unless more than 500ft from the ground or casting time is an immediate action
- Casting while falling requires a concentration check
As the tendrils dig into your subconsious, the room goes black. You flash back to the Cannith lab, strapped to the metal table struggling against the restraints. The large warforged looms over you, it's eyes glowing green. You focus on the scalpel in his hand floating toward your eye.
A maniacal laughter fills your head. "I know your fear, ratcatcher. It will come for you soon. The wait will make it so much sweeter."
Then you're running through the gray mists of the Mournland, your chest tight with exhaustion. Behind you the sound of scraping metal grows louder. You turn your head to see the large warforged emerge from the mist, a huge translucent green blade grasped in it's hands. It quickly overtakes you raising the blade over it's head. You feel it cut deep and the world flashes red.
You're back in Vundry's back office. You feel an ache where the blade struck, running through your eye and back over the top of your head. You see the boy in black leather running for the open curtain.