Lady Elaydren d'Cannith-NPC's page

"Indeed, there was a map. Is it important?"

"I am not sure. May I look at it?"

Elaydren gathers herself and responds to Tierney. "There are mutliple groups involved that seek to use its power for evil. The Lord of Blades seeks to destroy all of the flesh races. We have also heard of other powerful agents in the city looking for it. I will do my best to put it where no one with ill intent can find it!"

Uriah sees the group hand the schema over to Elaydren and is in shock. "You trust this witch? They are going to use the schema as a weapon. All of these Houses are the same. I will no longer be a part of this!" He turns and walks out of the Broken Anvil in anger.

Elaydren responds to his accusations. "As I mentioned before, we have no desire to use this as a weapon. The sect of House Cannith I belong to is doing everything in our power to see nothing evil ever happens again with our House's resources." The warforged guarding her puts his arm around her to support her. He gives Uriah a cold stare as he leaves.

Lady Elaydren d'Vown of House Cannith's excitement is barely contained as Adir presents the schema... She gives the shifter a level look before she pushes the cloth aside and speaks a single arcane word... and is awestricken. Speechless, she just stares at the dark adamantine disk for a long moment before she is suddenly aware of your eyes upon her. Hastily, she scoops up the disk, deposits it into what must be an extra-dimensional pocket at her belt, and withdraws five envelopes, each sealed in wax with the heraldry of House Cannith pressed in. You pry a corner up to find a letter of credit from House Kundarak which will allow you to withdraw your agreed upon amount. The woman is good to her word.

"And the ring?" she asks, holding out a hand to accept the Cannith signet ring that she loaned you to enter the hidden underground complex. If that is returned, she seems to relax, even allowing herself a smile now that she is sure that you aren't going to double-cross her.

"Well done," she says, waving for one of the House Ghallanda servers. "I like to think that we could call on each other in the future?"

She pauses for a minute and then continues. "Was there a map?"

Elaydren looks to Jarot. "You appear to be the voice of reason in this group. I am only interested in the schema. Anything else you find in the foundry is yours. If you meet significant difficulty or resistance, we can discuss additional funding then. I will tell you that should you perform well there will be additional opportunities to work for House Cannith and receive the perks that go along with working for the House."

At that, Sweet steps out from the back room aiming a repeating crossbow at the group. "I wasn't kidding. Get out or I'll put holes in ya!" Elaydren steps in front of Sweet. "There will be no need for that. They are not providing a threat and we may have actually reached an agreement." Sweet lowers the crossbow and responds. "Well...why didn't you say that a moment ago! You gentlemen want a warm bed for the night? Ole Sweet has got the softest beds in all of Sharn!"

The Lady turns back to Tierney. "Involving city guard would bring a lot of attention. Plus, there is much corruption in their ranks. You were chosen by a trusted friend, Provost Geldem. That is why you are so vital."

She pulls out the map and lays it on the table. "The journal states that there will be a door here, within the E-213 valve cluster. Present this ring," she says, withdrawing a ring from her belt. Made of mithril, it bears the same hammer and anvil symbol as the journal. "... and it should allow you access. A tunnel should lead you to a long-forgotten level far below, where the foundry is said to reside. Do not lose this, as it is your only key." She hastily scribbles down the last set of directions from the journal and slides the paper to the center of the table for you to take with the ring.

"Be discrete. And be careful." Elaydren pauses to pay compliments to Sweet, giving her mithral-plated warforged protector enough time to ensure that the streets outside are free of danger and then heads out the door. "When you retrieve the schema, return here. Sweet knows where to find me." With that, you are alone except for the halfling tavern owner who is banging pots around in the kitchen.

Elaydren is shocked by the response. She sets her bag back down. "Maybe I was too hasty not to trust the rest of you after the words of one." She glares at Uriah. "but Bonal chose you for a reason..." She pauses while thinking. Can I trust that you will not hold the schema ransom once it is recovered if HE directs you to?" She points at Uriah. "Or can I trust you will honor our deal and return it to me for the offered price?"

Bulwark interrupts. "Don't trust them Ely."

It seems strange that he, as a bodyguard, addresses her so informally.

My perspective was that this seemed like a moment for Uriah and I didn't want to steal his scene and not let him get what he needs out of it. Don't want to c-block someone's character development.

"A moment, friend Sweetwater." Adir puts a hand on Uriah's shoulder. He doesn't pull Uriah back as Adir steps forward, but the request is in the gesture. "Friend Eladryn, of course we will not accept your money for something we haven't done. I believe that we..." He nods towards Servitor. "...would like to help you to honor the Provost's memory. Insulting your honor was a mistake." He sends a rebuking glare towards Uriah. "While I may not fully understand the tension between Houses, friend Bonal seemed a good man without ill intent. And the Lady of the Moon ushered us here with hands of Fate. Please reconsider."

"That is blood money anyway. If you don't take it, it can go to Sweet." She has packed her things, but Adir's words give her pause. She is trying to dry up her tears.

Elaydren looks around. One by one she expects someone to stand up and object to the swashbuckler's leadership, but no one does. She ends by staring at Servitor. She begins folding up the map. "No...no...never mind. I'll find someone else. I'm sure Bonal would be proud you got what he sacrificed himself for this far. Please take the gold as a reward for bringing me the journal." She picks up the journal and starts putting it in her bag to leave. She has a look of shock and fear on her face.

"My house has made many mistakes!" She raises her voice and tears come to her eyes. Bulwark steps forward, but she puts her hands on his chest to stop him. She shakes her head no at him. When she turns back to face you, she is crying. "But we have also done wonderful things. Look at these two warforged men. A new race with feelings and wills like ours." She wipes tears. "Don't judge my motives. You do not even begin to know me. You judge me by my association with a House? How about you? Are you what your house says you are?!"

Bulwark steps up and wraps his arms around her from behind. She turns and buries her head in his chest. She weeps as Bulwark glares at Uriah.

Uriah says Tell ya what. Keep your crowns, I'll find your schema. And then...we can negotiate a finders fee. Uriah says with a hard glint in his eye. I won't be played for a fool by this Highborn. I know the games these Houses play, and I'll play it too.

Her warm smile dissolves at Uriah's words. Still looking at Tierney, "If that is what it takes to protect innocent people...then that is what we will do." She stands and takes a step back. "And the rest of you? Do you want the gold in the bag to prepare or do we barter like thieves after the schema is found?"

The Lady's implied rebuke silences Tierney and causes him to shrink in his chair. Stay quiet! Don't blither like an idiot! he tells himself.

When she sees him shrink back, she leans over and touches his hand gently. "Your questions are good ones. I'm sorry I don't have better answers brave warrior. I'm just a little rattled at the day's events." She gives him a warm smile.

Suddenly, Tierney bursts forth with questions. He asks in an excited, rapid-fire manner and moves toward the edge of his seat as he does. With each question, his eyes grow wider. This does little to improve his attractiveness.

"How would the others know about the journal? Was the schema written about anywhere else? And is it something anyone can use?"

Elaydren's eyes get big as Tierney rattles off his questions with fury. She composes herself and responds, "I don't know, I don't know, and it is a part to a whole. The schema is of little use without the other parts. We hope that by finding this first part that we will have a clue to where the rest may be."

Six hundred crowns you said? Each? Whatever is worth that much to you is probably dangerous....very dangerous. Uriah interjects Now, I'm no coward, hell I like a good scrum, but what are we really getting into here?

She looks up from her work and into Uriah's eyes. He sees an ever so slight smile in the corner of her lip as she looks at him fully for the first time. She blushes a bit before gathering her senses. "To be completely honest, I am not completely sure yet. As you have already experienced while traveling with Provost Bonal, at least one powerful group is seeking the schema. We can not be sure there are not others." Her eyes are pleading. "This artifact can not end up in the wrong hands."

She sets the journal on the table and rests the palm of her hand flat upon the mithral seal engraved in its cover. The threads begin to glow in unison with her signet ring. She speaks a command word and opens the small book. The blank pages immediately begin to fill with delicate puzzle-like script and unidentifiable line drawings. She turns to a specific page, studies it for a moment, and gasps in surprise.

"Bonal, you brilliant man," she says of what is written within those pages. "This is why he was so eager for you to meet with me tonight. The location of the lost foundry is here in Sharn," she proclaims, excitedly. Pulling a sheaf of paper from within her cloak, she unfurls it upon the table and begins working at what appears to be a partially completed map.

She begins marking the map furiously. "The lost foundry is deep within the Dorasharn Tower, fifty-seven levels below the tower's present-day sewer system!" She pauses here as if to measure your commitment. "I hope that six hundred gold each and the good will of my house will be adequate payment for your help," she says, offering such a staggering sum with complete nonchalance. You heard the coffers of House Cannith were deep, but the promise of that sum may well be more gold than you have ever seen at once in your life. She removes a heavy-looking pouch from within her bag, dropping it upon the center of the table. "I will provide three-hundred gold each up front so that you may outfit yourselves for the expedition with the rest held until you return with the relic."

She continues to draw on the map, frequently referring to the notes within the journal, not even looking up as she seems assured that this will be more than sufficient payment for your troubles...

Phew, another busy weekend for me, but glad to see everyone's posting a good bit!

Servitor stares at Bulwark for the majority of the conversation, meeting the gaze of the other warforged as the fleshbound spoke. Yet as the Lady Cannith fingers it as the purpose of Bonal's sacrifice, the assassins, everything, the stare shifts and he looks to the Lady. He holds the stare, perhaps uncomfortably long as the conversation continues before admitting in an ashamed tone. "But why? I... I did not retrieve the journal. What purpose does my being here serve? I am only a miner."

She walks over to where Servitor is sitting. "You are much more than a miner Servitor. You are now a champion of House Cannith. You have been since you arrived in New Cyre." She points to your chest. "May I?" If Servitor does not refuse the Lady's request, she reaches out and puts the palm of her right hand on his chest. As she does, the ring on her hand begins to glow with a bright blue hue. Servitor feels warmth and then a strange sensation...pressure relieves from his chest as a switch is triggered and releases. A plate pops open in his chest. Elaydren pauses to make sure the large warforged does not object. She reaches inside the opening in his chest and retrieves a back, leather journal. She closes the small door and places the palm of her hand over his chest again. He feels the switch return to the locked position. Like I said, Provost Geldem knew his sacrifice would be for the better good. He carried a fake journal in his coat." She steps back and motions to her bodyguard. "Bulwark, please pull us up a table." He walks over and lifts a large table with one hand and slides it to the center of the room. "Gather around and let's see what was worth my good friend dying for."

"He wants a schema that Provost Geldem identified in an ancient journal." She pauses and sees you are clueless of what she is talking about. "A schema is like a building block of artifice. These blocks can be combined into patterns which can serve many purposes. I do not know what this particular pattern is capable of, but if the Lord of Blades is interested in it, it must be more valuable that I initially thought. The Mourning nearly shattered our house when it claimed our most brilliant minds, our elders, and our enclave in Metrol. Many of our secrets are now lost within the Mournland and I fear what this Lord of Blades may have learned if he has discovered our hidden facilities." She pauses, a troubled look upon her face, but she does not stop for long. "Bonal believed that this one piece was part of a set, but there is much that we have not yet learned from this ancient journal. This is but the first piece of the puzzle that we know of."

She gets a look of disgust on her face and continues, "Some speak of this Lord of Blades as a great philosopher and teacher. Others describe him as a powermad warlord and self-styled prophet who wishes to challenge the weaker, flesh-bound races for supremacy of Khorvaire. His hidden enclave follows a strict regimen that crosses theocratic ideals with the power of a military dictatorship; the Lord of Blades serves as both god and king to his followers. In his camp, the Lord of Blades’ word is law. The warforged who have joined him must accept his rule or be destroyed. The relic I seek is an adamantine plate in the shape of a seven-pointed star about the size of your hand. It has no special power by itself, but is an ancient schema..." She pauses for a second,"So to answer your question, he sent his assassins to kill the Provost and retrieve the journal."

The warforged body guard finally speaks up with a deep mechanical voice. "He forgets his place. We were created for a purpose." He looks at Servitor.

"Do you know who attacked us?" is all that Tierney can think to ask of Lady Elaydren?

If she asks him for details, Tierney will tell all that he knows.

"They were servants of the Lord of Blades." The first sign of emotion is displayed on Bulwark's face as his brow tightens at the name. She continues, "They wanted the journal."

The lady points at Servitor. "For him to arrive safely."

Lady Elaydren d'Cannith-NPC wrote:

"I am Elaydren d'Vown of House Cannith," she says, her voice soft but clear. "Tell me, what happened to my friend Bonal Geldem."

For the briefest of moments, silence hangs in the air. Adir takes a step forward, with Ghost leaping to his side.

"I regret that he was killed while on board the airship that brought us to Sharn. Several warforged boarded the ship and attacked. In the chaos, he was executed by one calling himself Razor. Servitor," he indicates the warforged, "shot down their ship as they escaped. Earlier, Bonal indicated that it was of utmost importance that we bring Servitor here to you."

Adir pauses for a moment, cocking his head as if listening to something, but all you hear is the rain hitting the roof and the fire popping behind us. "Yes, perhaps the Lady spoke to y...err, him, revealing his fate. Regardless, to honor his wishes, we are here."

"He sent a message through Sivis...He was a diviner you know..." Her eyes water a bit. "One of the most talented in Sharn..." She gets control of her emotions. "He knew it was his time. That is why he found you all. He had a vision and each of you were in it. It is amazing how he manipulated circumstances to send you all here safely."

Before the lady makes her appearance, Tierney seems lost in thought. Father told me that the halflings of Talenta were savages who ride scaly beasts and were without learning.

The question of ale or wine confuses Tierney momentarily. [b]"Just water, if you have it, please."[b]

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When Lady Elaydren enters Tierney stands, a split second after the others. Clearly, he needs a moment to prepare himself for what to say to her. Thankfully, Adir was able to take the lead in responding for the group. Even with severely limited social skills, Tierney realizes that a misstep here could be catastrophic.

He bows respectfully when the Lady introduces herself and continues to rely on the others to navigate the scene.

Her initial curtsy is directed at the group as many of you bow.

Uriah wasted no time digging in to the stew. Mmmph ish delishush as the Lady walks in he hastily wipes the drippings from his face, missing a shred of meat, which dangles uselessly from his chin. Uriah stands and gives a deep bow, which disguises his second attempt at dislodging the piece of meat.

Hail Lady of Cannith.

Lady Elaydren is obviously here for serious House business, but you notice her face relaxes a bit at your actions. She curtsies politely. "No need for formalities."

Suddenly, there is a loud thump as the front door to the Broken Anvil swings open. Your hearts lurch up into your throats as a heavily-cloaked, powerful-looking warforged made of mithral stands in the opening! He throws his dark cloak aside as if to display his massive shield and the wicked-looking mace hanging at his belt, his wide shoulders filling the frame of the door. For a long, unsettling moment, he just stands there, looking at you with unwavering blue pinpoints of light shining from deep within its mithral skull. Your hands drift closer to your weapons...

Then he steps aside and turns, nodding to someone outside. A slender feminine figure, her face hidden within the depths of her cowl, steps past the intimidating warforged and drifts into the common room like something of a spectre out of the night. As you are the only patrons in the room, she immediately moves toward your table, removing her cowl as she approaches. She is human, a Lady from the way she carries herself, looking something like a princess out of a fairytale with skin like ivory and her shimmering black hair pulled back and secured with silver ornaments. Dark blue eyes shine like sapphires in the lanterns' light and you notice a single ring glinting on the ring finger of her right hand. Although she appears confident and proud, you notice that her eyes are somewhat red-rimmed. Not even Sweet, who sticks her head out of the kithen to see who has arrived, is able (or willing) to say anything as she strides up to your table.

"I am Elaydren d'Vown of House Cannith," she says, her voice soft but clear. "Tell me, what happened to my friend Bonal Geldem."

The Broken Anvil