She limps out of the room and out to the practice ground, leaning on her stick. The open space now echoes to the sounds of combat as shulassakar spar. The approach they are practicing favours small weapons, light or no armour, and agility. The students practice forms before moving on to more earnest sparring.
One warrior, a large broad-shouldered brute flattens his sparring partner and laughs in good-natured mockery. Siless pauses as she passes by. "Aspirant Hassendar?" she asks querulously.
The shulassakar boy turns and straightens to attention, gulping slightly. "Yes, Instructor?" he asks apprehensively.
"You seem to be finding your practice a little bit too easy. Perhaps you need something different. Here - come and take my stick away from me."
"Instructor, I..." The boy's eyes now contain fear.
"Come, come, not scared of an old lady are you?" Her voice hardens. "Take my stick." The rest of the training students have stopped and are watching silently, some smiling and others looking on wide-eyed.
Hassendar steps forward slowly, watching the instructor as she leans on her cane. He is perhaps a foot taller than her. He then makes a lunge for the stick but she has clearly anticipated the move and she turns with surprising nimbleness and he stumbles. She steps back and smiles, beckoning him on. He tries again, but the cane sweeps his feet from under him and dumps him on the sand and he receives a follow-up sharp tap to the back of the head. He staggers to his feet, shakes his head, and then launches himself bodily at her. She cants to one side and an out-thrust leg spins him through the air to dump him on his front. She pins him to the ground with the tip of her cane to the back of his neck.
"Take this as a lesson," she says, her voice ringing out around the practice ground. "Don't become complacent, and don't rely on speed or strength. You must be wary, and you must think. In the depths you will find many things that look harmless but that can nevertheless be deadly."
"No one here thinks you look harmless," grunts Hassendar from the ground, adding, "Instructor."
Siless smiles and releases the pressure on his neck. "Very good, Hassendar. Most students would not have attacked me directly like you did in that last pass. I am pleased with you."
As the student sits up she leads the adventurers off. "Here we train the Wardens who keep the dangers from the depths, in the depths and out of the city. We train them rigorously in both the theory and practicalities of warfare within Khyber. Are there any particular aspects which interest you?"
The books also mention the Chamber. This is a group of mostly younger dragons. More conservative dragons simply study the Prophecy but do not seek to influence it. The Chamber are proactive in trying to bring the Prophecy about, changing or accelerating it. They are, like most dragons, implacably opposed to the machinations of Khyber-spawn like the Lords of Dust. However, the Chamber has caused conflict with the more conservative elements in draconic society who see the Draconic Prophecy as the will of the progenitor dragon Eberron and attempts to change it as heretical.
On the three shulassakar, he finds a number of references to them, but only to the extent which demonstrates that they were who they said they were. It also confirms that the shulassakar see themselves as the true guardians of the Silver Flame, and that they have little or no relationship with the hierarchy in Thrane who they see as largely deluded as to the Flame's nature. Perhaps of tangential interest, the role of High Speaker held by Leshlec is in fact that of, effectively, spymaster. The High Speaker deals with the city's interactions with the outside world but since these are now almost entirely clandestine, the role has largely changed from ambassador to spy. The books also discuss a Higher Authority to which the shulassakar ultimately report, although it does not clearly define its nature.
The library is strong on history and religious affairs, less so on more contemporary matters. The various actors mentioned, such as Grinnersen and Targryn, are not mentioned at all. The specifics of the machine to which the dragon was attached are also absent.
Regarding the general nature of the Draconic Prophecy, Nalverren and Tal find similar information to that of Wultram. However, in terms of the specifics, they find that the details are frustratingly technical and require years, or even centuries, of studies to truly master. The prophetic runes which seem to form spontaneously in a number of locations, including below Krezent, are part of a compound Draconic syllabary which is extremely tricky to read in the first instance, given that it is not used in normal communication. Secondly, these need to be related to other "known" symbols with a broadly understood past meaning, although subtle changes so that sigils are similar buy not identical can make this tricky as it also changes meaning. Thirdly, anyone who isn't a dragon who delves deeply into such matters tends to disappear or die mysteriously.
Interestingly, the dragonmarks which form on the skins of certain races in Khorvaire are also sigils of this type, and their appearance has caused deep interest and consternation within draconic circles as to what this implies, beyond the growing importance of these races and Khorvaire in general to the unfolding of the Prophecy. Factions like the Chamber have therefore begun monitoring Khorvaire to determine what this might mean, although there are multiple rival theories which are mostly unprovable either way.
However, there is a general agreement that the signs of a crisis are growing. The precise nature of this crisis is unclear - it was assumed by many that the Last War was the cause, but this view has largely been debunked since the war ended but the signs intensified. A view gaining increasing traction is that the Last War was perhaps a symptom rather than the cause of the problem, which might be deeper and more existential for the draconic races. To the extent that this implies the activities of the Lords of Dust is, nevertheless, controversial.
“Rehil is right. We mostly want to train. The more opponents we face, the better we are at facing different threats.” He pauses, “Speaking of which, why do you choose to train in light, quick combat?” He points to their smaller weapons and the quicker forms the students work through. Then he hikes a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the room in which she was instructing other students in the details of the tentacle-shouldered-thing. “And what was that you were teaching about? What threats does it pose and how do you destroy it?”
He shrugs down at Rehil, “Might as well learn what they have to teach. Never know what we’ll end up needing to kill.”
Ashshar watches with passion the royal beating happening in front of them.
As the instructor asks and his partners answer, the lizardfolk thinks for a second before speaking "I... I have never been taught how to fight. I'm a hunter, ssskilled with bow and sspear, with claw and maw... but I don't know better."
"If we are to protect people and fight monssstersss, I want to be capable of fighting like a warrior but I alsso want to know ass much ass a warrior sshould know."
"Why light weapons? Because we fight in confined spaces a lot of the time in the depths, and a ten-foot pike would be pretty useless there. Similarly, plate mail is for the open battlefield, not for patrolling caves and caverns - especially those with lots of water. And since sound can travel underground, stealth is important.
"There are many things in the deep places that'll try to kill you, eat you, infect you or just enslave you. The lectures are intended to provide an edge - knowledge that could mean the difference between survival and death. Forewarned is forearmed. That particular lecture was about a creature called a dolgaunt - all too common in the depths. Like to drain you of your bodily fluids, and often work for worse things like illithids and beholders. What with them and the spawn of Khyber, it's dangerous down there. The Wardens protect the citizens of the city. It is our sacred task, and we take it very seriously."
She looks at the group critically. "I'll pair you up with some of the more advanced students. They won't be used to your styles of fighting, and you theirs. It should be instructive for everyone."
At the prospect of facing an advanced student, Cole sets his pack down. "Sounds like a good plan. I'm ready when you are ready to select an opponent for me."
Rehil nods. This arrangement is more or less what he'd been hoping for.
"I agree, for as large as this library is, it does seem to have some gaping holes in what it covers. In my search regarding the prophecy, everything seemed to have ended well before our place in the timeline. Either that or things had shifted so much in reality as to make the writing obsolete."
Rehil thanks Instructor Siless and asks if they can come back tomorrow.
Wultram, Tal and Nalverren head for the barracks. In the main yard they find their fellows sparring with trainee shulassakar wardens, evidently having enjoyed a strenuous workout.
Cole waves the library-goers down as he reclaims his gear from a pile on the floor.
He looks around, making sure they aren't overheard, "So, how was your search?"
Tal ducks his head, and looks at the Wardens, then at his companions, then shakes his head. "Excuse me, you obviously arent't pushing them hard enough." He waves at Rehil. "This one has barely any bruises at all, if you've properly trained him, he should be the color of a ripe Quatcha fruit, all purple with black spots." Then he nods at Cole. "I don't see even one bruise on this one, if you didn't bruise him, you didn't try nearly hard enough." He chuffs under his breath.
Noticing the party, Rehil parries a pair of blows from his sparring partner, then steps quickly back out of range. The elf waits for his partner to relax, then sheathes his blade. "Thank you," he mumbles and bows. Then he trots over to the party.
"Cole doesn't bruise. Did you find what you were looking for?" The elf dips down to retrieve his gear from a neat stack beside Cole's pile.
Tal tilts his head, and then chuffs loudly. "Companion Rehil, you have no sense of humor."
"I know."
"The search was not fruitless, but very nearly so."
The adventurers walk away from the barracks, talking quietly among themselves.
Once the party is away from others, Rehil says softly, "Is the plan still to search the depths for runes? Their guards are good. We will have to be careful."
Tal nods. "I think it is."
The group decide to check out the veins of the prophecy deep below the city.
"We'll need permission from the authorities. Shouldn't be hard, we just have to manage to not storm out of the room this time."
Rehil offers a single strategic input. "If they don't grant it, they will watch us more closely. We should scout first if we can."
Cole shrugs, "I'm guessing they're already following our movements, but I don't disagree with Rehil. A look won't hurt."
"Up to you all. I try not to rock the boat, but I shan't tattle, as it were."
"How long will we be here? How long do you need in the depths?"
"Sounds like we're agreed, then," Cole responds, lumbering to the nearest place he can look down into the caverns below. "Rehil and Nalverren want to lead the way?"