Alua was disappointed not to get to speak to a superior. She understood that the lackey she spoke to wasn't taking them terribly seriously. I have to get their attention, so they pass this up the line.
She cleared her throat, then hesitated. If attention was needed, then she wasn't the best person for the job. She didn't have Baran's skill at oration or storytelling. Fortunately, the young man was here with her.
"As we were intimately involved in the events on the rail, we wanted to volunteer our version of the events. We know that your guards were overrun, and were unable to witness all the events. It is our hope that our perspective will help understand the unfortunate events."
Turning to Baran, she said, "Our chronicler, Baran 'Elmswright, will provide our report."
Lharvion (July) 13, Zor (Thursday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, evening
Wroat
"As we were intimately involved in the events on the rail, we wanted to volunteer our version of the events. We know that your guards were overrun, and were unable to witness all the events. It is our hope that our perspective will help understand the unfortunate events."
Turning to Baran, she said, "Our chronicler, Baran 'Elmswright, will provide our report."
”Yes, a terrible tragedy,” the Transportation Guild official agreed, shaking his head sadly. ”And you played a part in what transpired, you said? Please, elaborate for me. The more information we have, the better we can ensure such a disturbance will not happen again.”
Lharvion (July) 15, Sar (Saturday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, morning
Sharn
After your first night in your own beds for several weeks, you met for breakfast in the Agency office. Phin had picked up the day’s Inquisitive. There were two main headlines for the current issue: “Crown Affirms Explorer Rights” and “Tragedy on Rails”. The latter article naturally drew your attention, and you read a relatively short article about an armed assault on a Lightning Rail bound from Korranberg to Sharn, foiled by persons still unknown, with promises for more information once the Transportation Guild made a proper press release – currently, they were unavailable for comment as they were putting all their available resources into investigating the case.
Lharvion (July) 16, Sul (Sunday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, midday
Sharn
The next day, there was a knock on the Agency’s door – an all too rare an occurrence of later… well, ever, truth be told. As Alua rushed to open the door she was met by well-dressed dwarf carrying a large satchel over one shoulder.
”Tarark Soranath,” the dwarf promptly introduced himself, shaking Alua’s hand. ”Reporter for the Inquisitive. My sources tell me you and your friends played a part in the unprecedented attack against the Lighting Rail a few days back. I have already interviewed a few other passengers I was able to get hold of, and pieced together a decent picture of what had happened, but I’d like to hear it from someone who was in the trick of it, from start to finish. How about it? May I have a moment of your time today?”
The relaxed Erix who had appeared on the train vanished with the latest attack. The quiet, watchful, dangerous Erix who had emerged from the Ruin was once again at the fore.
He sat in full armour, he arranged watches, he kept to himself, and he did his best to stay ready.
When he slept he crammed himself into the corner, half buried under goods, and careful to make sure no weapons were at hand.
Only when they arrived at Sharn did any hint of the happy Erix show, and even then it was minimised. He agreed to meet back at the Agency tomorrow, then vanished into the afternoon shadow of the towers.
He had been working on repairing his gear at the Agency when the reporter arrived. He loomed behind Alua as the man entered.
"Our clients value discretion." he mentioned coldly "Bluntly - what's in it for us?"
Turning to Baran, she said, "Our chronicler, Baran 'Elmswright, will provide our report."
Baran was shaken out of a thousand-mile stare. He was here to support Alua but there was some part of his mind still on the train.
"Serra, I am a mere chronicler. This rapier is just for show I assure you. I have been joyously paired with this agency - I say joyously because they have given me such cause to speak of their works. Lupi, perhaps an odd looking sort, so schooled in the arcane world! Phin, whom you see here, a master of the precise strike! Erix, whom they call 'the Rock of Sharn!' Last but not least, Alua, our selfless leader who would rather shed her own blood then see one of us hurt."
He felt the young clerk's attention waining.
"The windows exploded ... inward. The Air Pirates of the Dragonwoods flooded the train. They began accosting the passengers but Alua rose against them and we followed. They were quick and well organized but all of that was ruined when the agents of the Pilfered Wand appeared. They yelled something about 'being here for the artif...'-something. They had under their domain a living spell that could such the will right out of a man! We used the pirate's need against the agents and forced everyone to fight on two fronts. I ... I got a little lost in the fray. As I said, I am not an accomplished swordsman."
"We defeated the agents only to find the pirates had disturbed the horrible plans of a mad bomber. He was forced to unveil his explosive plot! (oh host! This guy's almost falling asleep- better wrap it up) Alua faced off with him and kept him distracted until Erix and Phin could disable him! (Well this isn't going to make the papers!)"
"I have studied some engineering at Morgrave. Lupi, a I said, is brilliant, and Phin here has the steadiest hands in Sharn. We removed the explosive vest. The rest is as you see."
He sat down forcebly and gave Alua and apologetic glance.
"Our clients value discretion." he mentioned coldly "Bluntly - what's in it for us?"
Lupi was hiding behind Erix's large back. She fully agreed with Erix. "Ummm.. I bet... House Orien could pay us better to be quiet... ummm... than this guy could pay us for being loud..."
Lharvion (July) 16, Sul (Sunday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, midday
Sharn
"Our clients value discretion." he mentioned coldly "Bluntly - what's in it for us?"
”Clients?” the dwarf asked, eyes sparkling. ”So, should I assume you were contracted to provide security in that particular Lightning Rail by someone? That would suggest the attack was not quite so unanticipated after all... interesting, very interesting.”
”Be that as it may, we are not in a position to offer high prices for our stories – it’s not like each issue of the Inquisitive is worth its weight in gold to our customers, you know? But it may be within out budget to pay for 15 minutes of your time, at your regular rates. And there is the opportunity to get your company's name on the lips of our readers. Free advertisement is something few entrepreneurs scoff at.”
Lharvion (July) 13, Zor (Thursday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, evening
Wroat
"I have studied some engineering at Morgrave. Lupi, a I said, is brilliant, and Phin here has the steadiest hands in Sharn. We removed the explosive vest. The rest is as you see."
”The Rock, hmm… I see, yes,” the official nodded amiably, making the occasional note during Baran’s speech. ”Very interesting. And air pirates as well, you say? My, that must have been one eventful day indeed.”
”Well, I must say this has been both fascinating and informative,” he said as he began gathering up his things. ”Rest assured I will get on top of the matter posthaste and contact you if there are any new developments.”
”Clients?” the dwarf asked, eyes sparkling. ”So, should I assume you were contracted to provide security in that particular Lightning Rail by someone? That would suggest the attack was not quite so unanticipated after all... interesting, very interesting.”
”Be that as it may, we are not in a position to offer high prices for our stories – it’s not like each issue of the Inquisitive is worth its weight in gold to our customers, you know? But it may be within out budget to pay for 15 minutes of your time, at your regular rates. And there is the opportunity to get your company's name on the lips of our readers. Free advertisement is something few entrepreneurs scoff at.”
Alua was of a mind to agree. She and Baran hadn't handled themselves terribly well with House Orien, and she doubted there would be much money coming from them, if any. And asking for hush money felt too close to blackmail.
"Ser Soranath is correct. The people have a right to know what happened, and we certainly weren't asked to keep our mouths shut." Turning to the dwarf, she motioned for him to sit in one of the client chairs, and she took position at her desk. A stack of bills fell to the floor, fluttering at her feet, and it took her a moment to retrieve them.
Brushing her hair from her face, she said, "First, let us be clear. House Orien is not a client. We were travelers on that train, same as anybody else, and it was simple luck that put us there. We have been holding out a small hope for a reward for our involvement, but that seems unlikely."
"What have you heard from the other travelers? Once we know what you've heard, we can fill in the blanks."
Brushing her hair from her face, she said, "First, let us be clear. House Orien is not a client. We were travelers on that train, same as anybody else, and it was simple luck that put us there. We have been holding out a small hope for a reward for our involvement, but that seems unlikely."
"What have you heard from the other travelers? Once we know what you've heard, we can fill in the blanks."
”That there was an attack on the train,” nodding politely as he seated himself where Alua indicated. ”Or perhaps attacks, plural – either that, or there was division among the attackers that turned then against each other. And something about a bomb, that wasn’t connected to the attack. Trouble is, none of those I have reached saw the whole picture, from start to finish. Unlike you people, from what I have heard,” he added, an eager gleam in his eyes. ”What I did hear was, you played a major part in ensuring the safety of the passengers – there were a few injuries, sure, but no fatalities. Some of the House Orien contracted guards did suffer worse than that, but I have my own sources there I’m going to pursue for details.”
”So. In your own words, would you please tell me your side of the story.”
Baran was slightly pale with anxiety as he traveled to Morgrave. He hadn't taken the time to talk through this with the others. It had been two weeks since the incident and he needed to inform the University that he wasn't dead.
Then.
Oh plummeting air pirates! Then he had to tell his father.
An audience with 'father' was to be avoided at all cost except the cost here would be the loss of his allowance. His room gone. His meager meal stipend gone. Perhaps he could send a missive? A reasonably priced courier to deliver a note?
No. No way to dodge this one. But, first things come first.
As he walked onto the campus of Morgrave he kept his face down and headed in a roundabout path to the mid-level of Dalannan tower through the museum to the archeology department. He was trying to get to ir'Morain's office without coming across anyone on the expedition.
He quickly bumped into several TAs who knew him, mostly as the student who dropped out of every course of study but also as one of the people who disappeared on that recent expedition. (The whispers around the university mostly went something like: What? 'That' guy is one of the missing? Well really, his career was going nowhere anyway. Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't wish it on anyone but a lot of 'hard' working student went on that trip.) Soon much of the bridge and commons were a wildfire of speculation. People looked to approach him but Baran changed direction quickly.
When he got to the archeology department's main office he lightly tapped on the door and walked in before anyone had a chance to say 'come'. He came close to the office manager and spoke in a low voice meant to counterbalance its' shocking nature, "Ahem, I'm sorry but I have an urgent need to speak with Professor ir'Morain to explain to him that I am not dead. Also, to give him my Darguun site notes and to make certain my company get paid?"
____
He later returned to his room to find it empty. 'Hurumph, well it had been two weeks.' He set about the long walk to the agency. Perhaps he could kip on the floor there.
Baran woke stiff and dishevelled on the floor of the agency. He got up and went for a brief walk Tavick's Landing. When he came back the Agency was opened and Alua was talking directly to a rather well dressed dwarf.
"Ah, boss?"
"Ser Soranath is correct. The people have a right to know what happened, and we certainly weren't asked to keep our mouths shut." ... "First, let us be clear ... We were travelers on that train, same as anybody else, and it was simple luck that put us there..." "What have you heard from the other travelers? Once we know what you've heard, we can fill in the blanks."
"Luck is right. We were not seen of as a threat by one group of attackers who had worked hard to incapacitate the House Orien Guards. If we had been there in an official capacity they would have targeted us as well. Yes, attackers - there were three distinct incidents that happened on the heels of the others. If the guard hadn't taken the brunt of these malicious attackers first wave ... who knows what would have happened! I'm only saying it was very lucky 'we' were there in an unofficial capacity." Baran paused with a business like face on. "I'm sorry, what kind of advertising are we talking about?"
Sharn - Sar, 15th of Lharvion
"Ahem, I'm sorry but I have an urgent need to speak with Professor ir'Morain to explain to him that I am not dead. Also, to give him my Darguun site notes and to make certain my company get paid?"
Jurian, the professor’s assistant from the expedition looked up from his papers, blinked his eyes and froze for a moment – the greatest display of emotion you had so far seen from the man.
”Mr. Elmswright,” he said after a few moments. ”We did not expect to see you again, after… well. I’m sure professor ir’Morain will want to see you immediately. Follow me, please.”
The aide quickly arranged the papers Baran’s sudden appearance had caused him to drop on his desk, rose smoothly to his feet and walked over to the door to the professor’s office. He knocked, waited for a few moment for answer, sighed and opened the door uninvited, gesturing for you to follow.
Rand ir’Morain office was a place you had been in only a handful of times, and never with enough time to properly appreciate the wealth of archaeological finds displayed on cabinets and tables – items from his most current expeditions, usually, those who were yet awaiting their place in a suitable museum, and this time you recognized more than a few pieces, ones you had handled personally during the expedition, some that you had wrestled from Eberron’s embrace yourself. The professor himself was sitting at his massive desk, almost hidden entirely from view behind mountainous piles of paperwork, something you knew the old man regarded as a barely necessary evil of his chosen trade, one to be avoided more often than defeated.
”Yes, Jurian, what is it? You know I’m bus-“ the professor didn’t get any further before his eyes wandered from his assistant to the young man at Jurian’s side.
”Oh, good Host,” he breathed, jumping to his feet and hurrying over to shake Baran’s hand. ”You made it out of that alive! I didn’t dare hope… did you all survive, or just you? Come, you have to tell me everything. Every last detail! Jurian! A chair for our friend, and two glasses. This calls out for the Iltrayan, I'd say, for a soldiers thought lost returning from the field!”
Sharn - Sul, 16th of Lharvion
Baran paused with a business like face on. "I'm sorry, what kind of advertising are we talking about?"
”We do have a rather broad reader base, one that may come to know your name and the role you played in the events,” the dwarf said, taking noted at furious speed. ”From what I can see, being credited for what I understand you did on the Rail cannot be a bad thing to you, professionally speaking.”
Phin had never been so happy to see Sharn as she was once the Rail pulled into the station in the city. Her ordeal in the wilderness was over and she was once again among the familiar.
When she finally stumbled into her apartment, she barely got her outer clothes stripped off her body before she tumbled into bed. She slept deeply that night and her dreams were filled with the most wonderful sights.
Phin awoke in the Tower and she immediately made her way to one of the balconies. She gasped as she flung open the doors. She was completely surrounded by the lights and colours that she had seen from afar as she approached Sharn. There must be something about the inherent magical properties of Sharn that was causing the effect. That or the Tower was trying to tell her something.
There was a comfy chair placed at the balcony for her and she climbed into it and sat cross-legged as she pulled her lute into her lap. She strummed the strings in time with the shifting colours, basking in the beauty displayed in the night sky.
The elf was so entranced by the scene before her eyes that she didn't want her time in the Tower to end. She sat there for hours playing and watching the sky and completely lost track of time.
Lharvion (July) 15, Sar (Saturday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, morning
Sharn
Whether it was her wanting to stay in the Tower to watch the northern lights or whether it was that she was exhausted from their ordeal, Phin found it extremely hard to wake up in the morning. By the time she managed to drag herself to breakfast, she was late. She picked up a copy of the Inquisitive and dropped it on the table in front of everyone before helping herself to food. "Being 'persons unknown' isn't going to drum up any business for the agency. I wonder how long it'll take, or even if, the transportation guild to release any details about our thrilling heroics."
Lharvion (July) 16, Sul (Sunday), 998 YK
Zilargo, Khorvaire, midday
Sharn
Phin wasn't quite as late the next morning because she had decided to go to bed early in order to spend some more time watching the aurora borealis. Those that were at the office were sitting around discussing what to do next when there was a knock at the door.
The rogue was immediately on alert and got to her feet to be ready for any surprises. She found the arrival of the reporter surprising and waited to see how Alua would respond to his inquiry.
"Your sources were correct in that there was a bomb unrelated to the other attacks. A group effort of knowledge and hands-on skill allowed us to remove the device and then disarm it so that it was no longer a threat to the other passengers."
”We do have a rather broad reader base, one that may come to know your name and the role you played in the events,” the dwarf said, taking noted at furious speed. ”From what I can see, being credited for what I understand you did on the Rail cannot be a bad thing to you, professionally speaking.”
"Please make sure that you spell our name correctly, that's ir'Brock Inquisitive Agency". Phin pointed, "Just like it says on the door."
”… did you all survive, or just you? Come, you have to tell me everything. Every last detail! Jurian! A chair for our friend, and two glasses. This calls out for the Iltrayan, I'd say, for a soldiers thought lost returning from the field!”
"Perhaps backwards ... We arrived on the Lightning Rail yesterday. You may have heard some rumour of a 'complex' incident aboard the transport between Starilaskur and Wroat? Well, you probably will. We were caught at the centre of that. We caught the train at Korranberg after a five day march across Darguun. Sorry, I say 'we'. Yes, my dig team survived. We're not sure how.
"We made it through the scout check points on the Darguun side of Seawall as one of our team had managed to scavenge the banner. She, Lupi, has it still, I think. Oh, word should be sent through diplomatic channels to thank the scout team for their allowing us passage.
"The aftermath at the site ... was terrible. I'm so sorry. We had to dig our way out of the cave to find it. We ... we also found Karola. That first night we took the time to build pyres and give service to the dead. I have anyone I recognized mentioned in my journal. Karola's portrait should hang in these halls - for trying to save us.
"We were underground of course when the, what did Lupi call it? - A reality storm ... an 'aukaraks'? hit. We were tossed about like bottled fireflies shaken by a malicious child. It took all of our savvy to scramble our way out through the long winding tunnels.
"You see we had not seen wards. There were gates, much like the one we found with the warforged. They had been warded by I think ancient orcish
culture. There was a book - I have notes 'Gahdtruggis, born under the Sentinel, in the year of the black dragon’s last flight.' Do you know what that means? It suggests a date down to the year. Is there a word that means a gateway between Eberron and Khyber? That is where it felt like we were. A gateway or a guardhouse. Regardless, it's all hopelessly buried in the aftermath that wasn't finished collapsing when we escaped.
"Anyway, beyond the wards were more ruins, trapped souls that had turned dark, more aberrations, and a kind of altar. There is a sketch of it there. It seemed to funnel water 'the lifeblood of Eberron' and had a pattern of disturbed cobwebs. It looked like it was meant to hold something. Whatever it was 'someone' seemed to have removed it. I think it was that which caused the aukaraks because it started no sooner then we arrived.
I'm sorry. It's been two weeks but everything is still a little fresh. After I've had a chance to sort things out I may have more detail to share.
Moreover, I am so sorry, so very sorry. We broke the seals. If we hand't maybe whatever was on the altar would have gone undisturbed. I think ... I think WE caused that disaster. All of those dig team members - people who were just there for a bit of work ..." Baran lost heart and his voice failed him as he looked at his shoes.
Professor ir’Morain accepted the bottle Jurian brought in and poured out the dark, dry Aundairan red wine himself. Baran had heard of the rare vintage, of course – the vineyards were rumored to be located on a permanent manifest zone to Shavarath, the Eternal Battleground, and the otherworldly energies permeating the soil gave the wine an unique taste. The older man then sat back, nursing his drink and gave his full attention to Baran’s story, rarely stopping to ask for clarifications and extra details before the young man had reached the end of his tale.
”An aukaraks,” the professor breathed, clearly recognizing the term. ”Yes, something like that would explain all the… irregularities that drove us away. And an ancient spirit, still sane enough after all those millennia to actually be able to interact with you, albeit with limits… Oh, but had I seen what you saw for myself. I would have been worth years of my life!”
”It might well have been, Sir,” Jurian murmured from his seat at a side table – the aide had automatically adopted the role of a scribe and was making careful notes. ”All the rest of them, to be precise. It would seem Mr. Elmswright and his team only barely made it out alive, and you are no longer as fleet on your feet as you once were.”
”True, all too true, but… imagine, after all this time, a survivor to talk to,” the professor sighed, waving away the expected nitpicking whether a spirit without a body could possibly be called a survivor. ”And that diary? Aureon truly walked with you when you made that discovery! IT is a crying shame the original book didn’t survive the trip back, but even those bits and pieces you have… it will take me months just to cross-reference all those names and places and dates and try to place this Gahdtruggis into the known histories. But… proof that the Dhakaani had reached out beyond their own borders, seeking for form alliances against a common foe. Fascinating!”
”Moreover, I am so sorry, so very sorry. We broke the seals. If we hand't maybe whatever was on the altar would have gone undisturbed. I think ... I think WE caused that disaster. All of those dig team members - people who were just there for a bit of work ..." Baran lost heart and his voice failed him as he looked at his shoes.
”Mr. Elmswright,” the professor said, for the first time in a long while his voice was forceful and brooked no argument. ”Do not try to weight yourself down with all the guilt in the world. What you did was what you thought prudent at the time. Everyone is a master at second guessing, a master strategist after the fact. You could not know what would happen when you followed your spiritual guide’s urgings. Yes, people died that might have lived, and it is a shame that artifact is now buried under the weight of a whole mountain, but if the spirit was right, far better these few losses and the tool being lost to the ages than you leaving it to the foulspawn to find. It might be a Lord Shaper of Flesh whose hand would now hold it. Compared to that dire possibility, this was close to the best possible result. And remember, even if it was your hand that broke those seals, it was mine that guided you there. Without the expedition, none of us would have been there in the first place.”
”’Life is a pilgrimage of regret and suffering’, an ancient poet once wrote,” the professor breathed. ”’Yet it is not a story of death and separation.’ When the days are dark – and there will be those, I’m sorry to say, for you are still young – try to remember that.”
"Thank you. Ah, I was wondering ... could you kindly send word to the University that I am not dead. I would like my room back and to get back to studies. The library in Korranberg was, well, an interesting start to studies into ancient architecture. I'd like student access back."
"Well Ser Soranath, you'll have a lot of fact checking to do. First of all you're going to have to check on any activity with the 'Air Pirates of the Dragonwood'. Eric here faced off with a commander of that wild band. Glass spraying on the cloaks of innocent passengers and the bandit's declared someone would be with us shortly to collect our entirely voluntary contribution to their cause'. There was a half-dozen in our carriage alone.
"Once you've finished with that I want you to ask yourself how at least two members of the Pilfered Wand infiltrated the House Orien guards and poisoned them! How did they achieve the sinister task of smuggling a living arcane force aboard?! And what were they after? They aren't pirates afterall! They were after something specific. Now we aren't your source on this tidbit, but find out what was removed from the train at Wroat!
"Then, after those threats were neutralized, please ask yourself what you would do facing a man so terribly distraught that he planned to destroy the train, its' passengers, and any infrastructure he could - by blowing up an explosive vest and ending his own life. Check the House Orien staff listings for recent terminations.
"Once you've finished all of that hard work, I want you to ask yourself three other questions: one, why weren't the passengers robbed in our car?; two, why didn't the Pilfered Wand succeed in their final plot?; and, three, why didn't the explosive vest destroy the lightning rail!"
Baran calmed down, forcing himself to breath in a measured fashion, "Are those the kinds of details you were looking for? I'm afraid I've only given you more work ... now about that advertising..."
Lupi was not really into giving the fancy dwarf any details of the train trip. Thus she let others do the talking. She was worried on what kind of publicity would the upcoming article bring to them and to Lupi. She had not lived her live in Sharn exactly according to the law.
Then she had an idea. She needed a bit of cover, but the office was small. As Erix seemed to share her worries, she asked him:"Could you just give me a bit of cover?" She had been itching to try out her new spell for weeks and this was the perfect opportunity. Trying it against Watch members, House Orien members or the dear professor was took risky, but Mister fancy dwarf did not look like a spellcaster. And he seemed to be very interested in the story Alua and Barna were weaving.
Lupi hid behind Erix and cast the spell. Her mind was filled with thoughts of others in the room and on the street outside. "Oh my," she thought "That's a lot of thoughts, fascinating." Someone outside was going through her groceries list. A boy outside was dreaming of toys. Lupi was surprised how many thoughts there are in the city.
Knowing she had only some minutes for the spell Lupi concentrated back to the task and directed the cone of the spell to the dwarf reporter. She thought:"I want a sneak peak on that article."
Sharn - Sar, 15th of Lharvion
"Thank you. Ah, I was wondering ... could you kindly send word to the University that I am not dead. I would like my room back and to get back to studies. The library in Korranberg was, well, an interesting start to studies into ancient architecture. I'd like student access back."
”Certainly, certainly,” the professor agreed. ”Least we can do for you – Jurian, if you would?”
”I’ll see to it before the faculty office closes, Sir.”
”Excellent. And Mr. Elmswright,” the professor said, leaning forward in his chair. ”Do not blame yourself for losing that artifact in the chaos. Yes, it was a priceless relic but your own survival was more important still. If I had to have made the call, I too would have left the thing behind. And the information you did manage to save is no small thing. You need to forgive yourself that one failure and focus on the bright side!”
”Oh, and speaking of a brighter side… I had resigned to looking for the next of kin of your team members to distribute your hard-earned gold, but you just saved me that trouble by surviving!” professor ir’Morain said cheerfully. ”I’ll make sure the full amount will be deposited to your agency’s account first thing tomorrow. So. Take a little holiday and treat yourself a little. You have well earned it. And if you ever feel the need to dig up ancient secrets again… well, I’d be delighted to have you along for another adventure!”
Sharn - Sul, 16th of Lharvion
Baran calmed down, forcing himself to breath in a measured fashion, "Are those the kinds of details you were looking for? I'm afraid I've only given you more work ... now about that advertising..."
”Ah, but those are the sort of questions that merit answering!” the dwarf agreed, eyes shining. ”And those answers? I think they merit the front page with ease – and if you can see to providing some of those answers for me, there might be follow-up stories over several issues. With due regard to the real reason why pirates and bomb, criminal orders and fell legacies of the Mourning didn’t get a single passengers killed.”
”By the way, you seem to have a real gift for words. Ever considered pursuing a career along those lines? The Inquisitive may not be able to pay its reporters enough for anyone to retire on, but it’s a way of getting one’s own name out there.”
Erix nodded subtly at Lupi's cue. He then proceeded to make sure he stayed between the 'goblin' and the dwarf.
Erix nodded subtly at Lupi's cue. He then proceeded to make sure he kept position between the 'goblin' and the dwarf.
”By the way, you seem to have a real gift for words. Ever considered pursuing a career along those lines? The Inquisitive may not be able to pay its reporters enough for anyone to retire on, but it’s a way of getting one’s own name out there.”
Alua's eyes lit up. "That's a wonderful idea, Baran! You do have a gift for storytelling. Maybe you could become our chronicler in truth, and publish some of our exploits for the public to read."
Turning to the reporter, she said, "We'll be happy to fill in some of the details, but I would like to see the story before you publish it. Just to make sure none of the details have become..confused."
Wanna go for it?
Lupi and Erix went into the other room. Erix was making some noises, while Lupi cast Detect Thoughts. Then they got back to the office and Lupi listened on dwarf's surface thoughts.
"Oh, boy, this is a good story... can't wait to show it to the boss... I need to get everything written down correctly...", Lupi read from Tarark's mind. Lupi was thoroughly surprised that Tarark was genuinely interested in their story. Her first instinct was not to trust the dwarf at all. After a few seconds of positive shock she went to whisper to Alua and Baran. "I think this guy is actually OK, he really likes our story."
Then she absent-minded went to the window to read strangers minds. A little boy and her mother outside were having an argument. Lupi could not hear their voices, but a peek to the boys mind revealed Lupi thought, "Oh, this sure is a fun spell."
Lupi noticed soon the argument with the boy and her mother was going to last for a while with no resolution. Thus, she turned her attention elsewhere. Baran and Alua were still discussing with Tarark and she had about one minute left for the Detect Thoughts spell. "I wonder, why Erix is always so moody, maybe if I..." and then she turned her attention towards Erix. She tried to do it a bit in secret, hoping Erix would not notice and even did a rather good job.
Despite his sullen, solemn mien, Erix's mind flickers like lightning in dark storm clouds.
Each word about the train triggered sparks of memory, feeding off one another. Leading to the feeling of the spell passing over him, leaving him falling into weakness and unconciousness.
This memory in turn led to Erix's will falling to that of the monsters under the ruin. Discovering he'd been striking out at Baran. Only the fact he'd not had his sword to hand resulting in the boy being unconscious and not dead. Realising the others would be better off without him.
Which in turn led to the memory of the war the creature had used to manipulate him. The struggles against the gnolls. Being part of a remnant force, retreating as the gnolls came for them, and hoping those left behind were already dead.
Which led to the memory of the patrol who questioned them at the border heading off into horror, insufficiently prepared. The guilt that he wasn't doing anything. The duty - the need - to keep everyone safe.
Which led back to the train, and failing utterly....
Lupi was surprised how gloomy Erix's thoughts were. The amount of guilt and duty in his thoughts was staggering. She noticed she had to take a deep breath to keep concentrating. As Erix's thoughts were circling around back to the train she stopped "I need to cheer Erix up, somehow...", but she was not sure how.
Lupi was more of a loner and had had no strong feeling towards any group. She had always been in the fringe of the goblin society, maybe more tolerated as a harmless oddity than anything else. She had noticed also some goblins of Darguun had a deep sense of duty for their country, so she considered Erix had must have a similar viewpoint.
"Still some seconds of spell left", Lupi woke herself of her thoughts. Baran had stopped talking for a while and Lupi decided to check him out too with the reminder of the spell. She turned the cone silently towards him with a sly smile.
'"A gift for words" ... is that it ... I'm trying to alter people's perception of themselves and the world around them, and help them make themselves into - more ... and I can't write really ... I'm trying to speak the living word ... truth so pure it becomes light ... the written word is a dead thing. What magic can it create?! Wait ... I'd have my own by-line maybe ... I wonder if father has a subscription.' "Excuse me ser Soranath, do you also publish the financials?" 'The tales of these my new friends with my name under it ... in my father's house.'
Lupi got into touch with Baran's thoughts too. She had also been trying to alter people's perseption, but with far less success. The spells Lupi cast had the same issue. They were dead on her book all the way until the final word was spoken. Then they came alive.
"Baran seems to be thinking a lot of his father.", Lupi observed, "Maybe he is some important person in Sharn." Lupi was also happy to hear the word "friends" mentioned. She certainly wanted to be friends, she felt her own nature was the biggest obstacle.
Then the spell ended and all of a sudden the voices around Lupi were gone. It was eerily quiet, until Alua continued the discussion with Tarark.
Once Tarark left Lupi decided to try to cheer Erix up. She was unsure on how to do that though "If I talk about our adventures, he starts thinking about his duty to keep us alive and gets sad. That's bad. Talking about the times in war will likely result in the same way..." Lupi was not sure if Erix had any hobbies. Drinking all kinds of alchemical liquids might have been a hobby, some goblins also did that, but it did not seem to make them happy. Quite the opposite.
After a while pondering the issue, Lupi was still unsure, but she decided to try something she did not know "Erix likely has some profession, maybe talking about it might make him happier. Maybe he is a bouncer, a firefighter or a construction worker..." Lupi could imagine Erix on those professions.
"Ummm.. Erix...", she started, "Do you have ummm... a profession... ummm... like I do carpentry?"
Erix blinked. "Uh? I mean, professionally? I'm an adventurer - with the guild. Not many jobs there at the moment though, and I've got a side job as a gate guard. Plus this, of course." he gestured to the agency "Uh. I've been studying Alchemy - I always swore I'd get accredited one day. If you mean as a hobby, then... sports?"
Baran watched what seemed to him an awkward conversation and added, "That's great. How are, ah, sports going? ... I've been enrolled in a fencing club for nearly a year now. Wow, I'm probably going to have to tell them I'm not dead as well."
Alua sat back in her chair, wondering if she'd said too much to the reporter, or not enough. She sighed, thinking, well, it's too late now. What's done is done.
Not for the first time that day, she thought of Sebastian. Was he healthy and safe? What would he think of what they were doing with the company? So much had changed, and she had no idea if she was doing the right things.
Baran watched what seemed to him an awkward conversation and added, "That's great. How are, ah, sports going? ... (putting in a little more effort) I've been enrolled in a fencing club for nearly a year now. Wow, I'm probably going to have to tell them I'm not dead as well."
"People thought you were dead?" she asked."We were only gone a few weeks. Word must travel fast in the university."
For the first time in months, if not years, she thought of her parents. She'd never gone back after the war, after the hospital. Her life in Starilaskur seemed to belong to another person, somebody she'd heard of once but never met. Did her parents think she'd died in the war? They wouldn't have received her death benefits, but that sometimes got missed. Should she let them know she was alive? Or would they have mourned her and moved on? That might be best. After all, she was a broken, changed thing, not much resembling the adventurous, fearless girl who'd left so many years ago.
Standing suddenly, she said, "I didn't know you fenced. In fact, I know barely anything about you." She turned to encompass the others, "about most of you. We've saved each others lives more times than I can easily remember, but in many ways, you're mysteries to me. Let's remedy that. I'll get some food and some wine, or ale, or whatever you all would like. Let's play some cards, have some fun, and learn a little more about each other. What do you think?"
Lupi was grateful on Baran's help, "Sports must be a safe choice, but I know so little about sports." She tried anyway, "What kind of ummm... sports? I don't.... ummm.... know much about them... Hobgoblins in Darguun did wrestling... ummm... I don't really have the physique for that..." Lupi could imagine Erix wrestling and also Baran fencing.
Alua proposal went into Lupi's mind as a hot knife goes into butter "Yes! That's a great idea! Cards and games! I can show the games goblins played in Darguun, like Stick Tower! That was always my favourite."
The traditional Stick Tower has probably been played everywhere in Eberron as it is both inexpensive and fun. Gather sticks, stack them into a tower and try then to remove sticks without making the tower fall. Boosts Dexterity, Perception and Concentration.
"Excuse me ser Soranath, do you also publish the financials?"
”Ah! Money is what keeps the world churning away peacefully,” the dwarf said, winking at Baran. ”Which means people do love to hear about finances – it’s always a comfort to hear of some rich individual who loses everything they had, knowing someone else has it worse than oneself. Mind you, stories about fortunes made sell equally well – stuff dreams are made of. Do think about it, and thank you all for your time,” he said as he began gathering his things. ”You should expect to see my article in a day or two – a few other loose ends I need to chase down before I sit down to write about it all. Now, a pleasant day to you all. It has been a pleasure.” With a small bow and a cheerful smile the journalist walked out the front door, leaving you with your thoughts.
Two days later, Baran had picked up the day’s paper before heading out to the Agency office, lured by the expected headline promising a follow-up story about the Lightning Rail attack. As you gathered up to read the story the first thing you noticed was that the article was anonymous, with no single journalist’s name attached to it as was usual. The second, that the contents were not quite what you had expected. Gone were any reference to the Air Pirates, citing the Pilfered Wands as the sole party to attack the train. The bomb incident was briefly referred to, but as a measure the Wands had obviously intended to destroy every evidence of their involvement following by a successful heist… defeated, mainly, due to the bravery and sacrifice of the House Orien guards (and, as a side note, the commendable vigor of some of the passengers, under direction of said Guards). The article did mention one Wands member having survived the attack (likely your distressed suicide bomber), and was now awaiting trial for armed assault, theft and murder – making the trial only a formality before the inevitable execution.
A follow-up interview of Lord Commander Iyan ir’Talan of the Sharn Watch promised a crackdown of the elusive criminal organization’s activities in Sharn, coordinated with other members of Brelish law enforcement forces in other major cities. Kwanti d'Orien, a Baron of the House of Passage, was also promising the full support of his House to track down and eliminate the criminal scum.
Several days later, the City had forgotten all about the recent unprecedented Lightning Rail assault as it was driving itself into collective fury over the The Race of Eight Winds, one of the largest and most-anticipated sporting event of the year, that took place on the 23th of the month.
According to legend, King Galifar II was fascinated by the use of aerial scouts and cavalry. Some say that he used Sharn as a testing ground to judge the merits of different flying beasts, granting land and gold to exceptional cavaliers. Over the centuries, this evolved into an exotic race involving different sorts of magical and fantastic beasts. For purposes of the race, Dura is divided into eight regions, each of which is represented by a different creature (Giant eagle for Broken Arch and Stormhold, Gargoyle for Fallen and Malleon’s Gate, Glidewing for Gate of Gold and Stores, Griffon for Precarious and Oldkeep, Dire hawk for Tumbledown and Underlook, Hippogriff for Daggerwatch and Overlook, Giant owl for Rattlestone and the Bazaar, and Pegasus for Highwater). To this day, the name of the creature is often used as a slang term for the inhabitant of one of these areas; when someone talks about "that treacherous owl," he's probably referring to a resident of Rattlestone or the Bazaar.
The race itself is a test of speed and skill, challenging the reflexes and combat skills of both beast and rider. From the starting point in Hareth's Folly, the race takes competitors on an intricate course that weaves in and around the towers of Sharn -- and since contact is allowed between riders and beasts, the racers can always try to win by eliminating the competition.
The race is older than most of Sharn, which explains why much of Upper Dura is not represented; it literally didn't exist when the tradition began. Hareth's Folly and Hostelhome have always been neutral ground where people gather to watch the race.
While not everyone takes an interest, many of the inhabitants of Lower and Middle Dura are avid followers of the Race of Eight Winds. It brings people of all races and professions together, and those directly involved with the race are the heroes of their districts. This includes the riders and handlers, along with the Wind Guard -- a committee appointed to manage the interests of the region. While this is a great honor, it carries considerable responsibility: there is far more to the Race of Eight Winds than just skill in the air. The Wind Guard has to raise funds to acquire, maintain, and train the exotic beasts used in the competition.
Usually local merchants donate a share of their profits to support the race, but it is up to the Wind Guard to make up for any shortfall. In addition to finances, the members of the Wind Guard engage in a never-ending series of schemes and negotiations on behalf of their region. Alliances and networks of favors stretch back for centuries, making the race as much a match of politics as of speed. The owl is one of the slowest creatures in the race, but the Bazaar has a powerful economic position and often uses bribery and graft to get ahead. The griffon rarely tries to win, instead using its physical power as a bargaining chip throughout the period between races; even if the griffon can't win, it can usually take another creature out of the race. Of course, it may be that the hawk owes a favor to the owl, and repays that favor by asking the griffon to cripple the pegasus -- and this is a fairly simple example.
The City took its greatest festivities seriously, and not only since they drew thousands upon thousands of tourists to watch the spectacle – for days before the main event, dozens of smaller events took place around the City to build up the proper spending frenzy for the big day, and betting was already getting fierce – rumors about a new alliance between the Hawn and the Gargoyle teams was gaining popularity and people were openly wondering if Carralag, the slum districts’ representative, was actually going to place well in a race against so many vastly quicker foes.
With so many more people going about their business, Sharn’s streets were even more congested than usual, with small brawls between die-hard supporters of the different beasts a common occurrence. But suddenly, your leisurely passage is interrupted by a roar rising over the din, followed by hysterical screams and sounds of glass and wood breaking… as well as the sound of steel singing against steel, bestial snarls and guttural cries of pain and agony. It is impossible to see what is happening, but the sounds seem to be coming from an intersection a few dozen yards ahead of you.
If you mean as a hobby, then... sports?"
Phin piped up, "Erix always had good hand-eye coordination so he was pretty good at any sport he tried." She looked over at the large man who always seemed like a boy to her, "Cub, you used to like playing anything with a ball. Is that still true? Or have you switched to more fisticuffs?"
"People thought you were dead?" she asked."We were only gone a few weeks. Word must travel fast in the university."
The elf frowned, "Does that mean the University assumed we all were dead? They didn't contact anyone, did they?" She reluctantly thought of her mother and wondered if anyone had contacted her. Phin had done such a good job of disappearing that the last thing she wanted was to be resurrected in her mother's mind by some University bureaucrat. Not that her mother would care that she was dead but if there was something to be gained, then it would pique her interest unnecessarily.
I'll get some food and some wine, or ale, or whatever you all would like. Let's play some cards, have some fun, and learn a little more about each other. What do you think?"
Phin brightened, "That sounds perfect! I can maybe help with the food and drink. The Forlorn Elk may cut me a deal since I play there regularly."
After the flashy journalist went to find more details, Lupi felt slightly hopeful. "Maybe we could get more popularity and more customers." She also realised she had not got home at all after the trip and decided to go there. And Lower Dura had a good amount of stick for the Stick Tower game.
Lupi opened her apartment door to find everything in place, just more dusty. After a good cleaning, she got surprising amount of new carpentry tasks from nearby goblins. "I guess plates and spoons will always be needed", she thought. This time a young goblin even ordered a chair from her. She went to work carving wood.
Lupi went into the office with her sack full of small sticks. She crowded around the newspaper and was hoping they would be depicted as heroes. Her disappointment was huge as House Orien guards were the heroes in the newspaper. "Ummm... What... ummm... the guards did nothing..."
Lupi did not understand. Tarark had seemed so sincere. Even her Detect Thoughts on him was successful. Lupi was not familiar with high level politics (only Low level Lower Dura politics that was mostly about comparing who had the largest club). She concluded someone else had written the news article, as there was no name on it.
Erix shrugged "Yeah, I had a knack for sports. Especially team sports. One of the reasons I went into the army, really. I shouldn't be that great at my age, but the..." Erix trailed off, and jumped topic.
"Sure. Games are good. Given what we've been through together, learning more makes sense. Tell me when."
"Welcome to the real world, Lupi. I don't know what things are like in Darguun, but here the game is rigged so the Houses always win. Consider it a win they didn't try to just kill us to shut us up."
Erix's voice cut through the din. "Form up and arm up. Alua, Baran, form a wedge on me - there'll be a crowd surge in a second. Phin, climb my back, see if you can tell what's happening. Lupi, in my wake, and if you've got a combat spell to prep, cast it now."
Even as he talked Erix was dragging out his shield and looking for higher ground.
"People thought you were dead?" she asked."We were only gone a few weeks. Word must travel fast in the university."
"Remember, we were underground when the maelstrom hit. Professor ir'Morain would have reported us lost in a cave collapse within a few days. If you didn't give them any personal contact information then I doubt anyone will think your gone. They would have my family contacts through school record ... and, well, billing."
"I didn't know you fenced. ... Let's play some cards, have some fun, and learn a little more about each other. What do you think?"
"That sounds lovely." ... 'and stalls me going to talk to dear old dad."
Lharvion (July) 18, 998 YK
"Welcome to the real world, Lupi. I don't know what things are like in Darguun, but here the game is rigged so the Houses always win. Consider it a win they didn't try to just kill us to shut us up."
Lupi nodded. Erix was clearly right, but Lupi still thought "Someone needs to change Sharn to a better place!" After a while being sad, Lupi brightened up on the upcoming fun. She started stacking her stick to as high tower as possible and explained the simple rules for her friends...
"Lupi, in my wake, and if you've got a combat spell to prep, cast it now."
Lupi obediently cast her Mage Armor and took a position behind Erix ready to investigate the intersection ahead.
Two days later, Baran had picked up the day’s paper before heading out to the Agency office ...
As Baran read out the story on the lightning rail attack his voice lost its' animated energy and became all business. He clipped the article and placed it in a folder marked 'Outreach'. He didn't speak for some time after that. He didn't seem angry or surprised really, just vaguely disappointed.
He brightened and turned to the others, "Well! We must be doing amazing work to embarrass an entire House like that! They may shun us now but they'll come knocking as soon as they need something."
Baran moved to Erix right flank as he pulled out a lump of wax from his pocket. "The-rock-of-Sharn-took-control-of-the-moment-and-charged-through-the-crowd -with-the-aspect-of-a-full-platoon." Then the bard opened his mouth and produced the sound of twelve soldiers marching with a purpose.