# Cassael's Lament - An Eberron Story (Updated 5/1)



## Anti-Sean (Aug 25, 2005)

_Sypheros 18, 998 YK
Aundair 
250 miles NE of Fairhaven_

A cold, hard rain poured down from the storm clouds that had rolled in from the Eldeen Bay, bringing the promise of an early winter with them. The passengers of the lightning rail bound for Thaliost were warm and dry inside the various passenger and dining carts, paying little heed to the weather outside. All of them, that is, save for one...

    Massive hands of stone and steel gripped the edge of the lightning rail, finding solid purchase along the smooth, wet surface. As the rainfall increased, quickening the stacatto rhythm it drummed across the roof, powerful muscles of tightly corded wood and leather animated by arcane might vaulted their owner from the side of the cart. Landing as nimbly as a carnival acrobat despite his size, Autumn stared ahead at his quarry: the servant who had attacked Niv during dinner. The boy was not alone. Difficult to hear over the noise of the storm and the speed of the lightning rail, he was deep in an animated conversation with a fully armored soldier of the Order of the Emerald Claw. Looking around, Autumn noticed that he had climbed up directly into the middle of a squad of Emerald Claw soldiers.

    A guttural laugh rolled out from deep within the beard covered by the soldier's half-faceplate helm as he pushed the boy aside. "You're a persistent one, clank, I'll give you that! But to no avail. Your persistence has only succeded in hastening your doom."

    Autumn replied in a low, sonorous voice somewhere between the creaking limbs of an oak tree swaying in the breeze, and the wind rustling through the leaves of a deep forest. "_'Clank?'_. How sad. I've heard more imaginative insults from urchins in the street. Did you come up with that one yourself, or did your lackeys here have to help you? Tell me where I can find Morathus, and I'll let you go without too severe of a beating. The boy, on the other hand, will pay for attacking my companion."

    "Aye, he should pay dearly. He was supposed to kill the stupid witch, but he couldn't even manage a task as simple as that. Our mistress demands better." With those words, he slipped a dagger between the ribs of the unexpecting boy, twisting his wrist as he pulled the dagger out, and re-sheathed it in one fluid motion.

"Open your eyes, fool! Morathus has abandoned you. You are here alone and outnumbered! Surrounded by elite soldiers of the Order of the Emerald Claw! No mere warforged can compare to the likes of us!"

"You're right, there is no comparison - for instance, I can count past three. Now, I was going to allow you to call for reinforcements to give you a fighting chance, but if you refuse to cooperate, we can begin any time you'd like."

"Insolent dog! I'll have your head for that! Tear it to pieces!"

    The soldiers began to move in slowly, shields raised and flails starting to spin. Autumn drew the quarterstaff from the sling on his backpack, quietly whispering a prayer to the spirits of the clouds above and the plains hurtling by. The wood of the staff thrummed and pulsed with power as it settled into his grip. One hand at the base, the other towards the middle, he held the staff forward in a guard position as he crouched low, waiting for the attack. They were taking their time, certain of their eventual victory. Two soldiers in front of him moved forward. Autumn knew from years of bitter experience that this was a feint to draw him out, as the two behind him moved in for the actual strike.

        Faster than the eye could follow, Autumn spun around to his left, catching one of the soldiers creeping up on him across the face, denting his helm and sending him sprawling across the roof of the cart. Quick as a whip, his staff swung upwards, crashing down on the helm of the soldier next to him a moment later, dropping him immediately. Before anyone could react he charged to the side, barreling into another soldier, knocking him off of the lightning rail. The screams of the hapless soldier trailed off in the distance as Autumn leapt back to his original position. A flash from the lightning arcing from a conductor stone illuminated the looks of shock and surprise on the faces of the two soldiers in front of him.

        True to form, however, the soldiers regained their composure and pressed forward to attack as their comrades closed in tighter. Shield bashes and flail strikes were buffeted back easily, knocked aside by stinging rebukes from Autumn's quaterstaff. A sweep of his staff knocked one foe off of his feet. Autumn brought his foot down over the soldiers helm to finish him off. His comrade joined him a few minutes later, brought low by an onslaught of staff strikes and punches. A few more whispered words of power, and the hafts of the flails the two remaining solders held bent and twisted, rendering them useless. Seeing the fate in store for them, one soldier leapt from the side of the lightning rail while the other ran towards the front of the vehicle, leaving their captain to face the warforged alone.

        "Worthless cowards! I'll finish you myself!"

        The captain rushed forward, his flail a blur of motion above him. Autumn knocked his shield aside with a swift kick, but not before the captain landed a telling blow across his face. Sparks flew as steel scraped against steel, the spikes of the flail gouging out deep grooves. While Autumn reeled from the pain, the captain pressed his advantage, keeping the warforged off balance, and moving him closer and closer to the edge of the cart.

        "You should have known better than to cross the Emerald Claw! I've played games with you long enough, It's time to finish this!"

        As the flail swung down towards his head, Autumn brought his staff around, tangling the chain around it, then pulling it across his body, pinning the weapon.

        "Where is Morathus?! Where is he hiding?! I saw him board this rail!"

        The captain laughed madly. "Fool! Morathus was never _on_ this rail! We sent him on the caravan to Flamekeep - you took the bait, just as he said you would! You're miles and miles off track, you'll never reach him in time! He will deliver the weapon to our masters, and Karrnath shall be triumphant once more!" He spun around, twisting his arm, sending both flail and quarterstaff sailing off into the night. A quick strike forward with his shield caused Autumn to lose his footing on the slick roof, sending them both to the ground. The captain pulled his bloody dagger from his waist, pressing it down towards Autumn's throat as the warforged struggled against him. The captain's leverage and surprising strength pressed the dagger forward, slowly and inexorably.

        "I will find him! There is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me! Do you hear me! Nothing!", Autumn roared as he pushed back against the foe on top of him. Even so, he was already beginning to lose the grapple, the dagger hovering menacingly overhead. A beastial growl rumbled forth from deep within him as his head snaked forward, clamping his massive, serrated jaws down around the hand holding the dagger. The Karrn screamed in terror, writhing in pain as Autumn's jaws dug deeper and deeper into his flesh. He pulled himself back, clutching at the bleeding stump where his hand was moments ago. The warforged's jaws had sliced and crushed through the bones at his wrist like a bear trap.

        "You won't have my head this day, Karrn. Even if I had time to put you out of your misery, you aren't worthy of it. Don't worry, though. I'll find Morathus soon, and then you'll have some company in Dollurh, although you may not recognize him after I'm through with him."

        "Autumn!!"

        The warforged's head snapped up at the sound of Niv's voice. He ran to the head of the cart and leapt down, crashing through the rear door of the next cart. He brushed himself off, nodded curtly to the astonished passengers, and ran full bore to the head of the train.

        "Autumn, I need you here _now_!!"

        "Niv, are you alright?!"

        Autumn smashed the door to the lead cart off of its hinges, leaping through and quickly taking in the scene. The Emerald Claw soldier who had fled from battle was sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. Standing above him was a young half-elven lady wiping the blood from a dagger into the folds of her resplendent gown.

        "Niv, are you ok? What happened?"

        "I'm fine, I'm fine. I guess you don't need to bother calling me Lady ir'Tain any mo- _Sovereigns_, Autumn, you're covered in blood - what happened to your face? Are you hurt?"

        "Don't worry, the blood isn't mine."

        "Oh, very clever. How long have you been waiting to use that line?"

        "A few weeks. If you're fine, what's with all the shouting?"

        "Well, I heard footsteps running across the roof, so I waited for a while, and then followed them up here. When I arrived, I found this guy mucking about with the controls. Somehow he fell onto my dagger about six or seven times."

        "And backwards, from the looks of it."

         "Yes, it was a terrible accident. The Emerald Claw should really start recruiting less clumsy stooges. We can suggest that to them some other time, though. Somehow, he was able to break the wards binding the elemental into place. In its new found freedom, it seems to be racing along, heedless to the needs of its passengers. We keep picking up speed, and there's no way to stop or slow down. We're only a few miles from the pass through the Starpeak Mountains. If we don't fix this thing by then, we're all going to die!"

_*To be continued...*_


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## Funeris (Aug 25, 2005)

Great start...I'll be keeping an eye on this one.

~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Aug 25, 2005)

Funeris said:
			
		

> Great start...I'll be keeping an eye on this one.
> 
> ~Fune




Thanks, the sentiment is *definitely* appreciated! I've got a rough draft of the next update simmering at the moment. If I can defeat the dreaded laundry golem this evening, I might have an update ready to go tonight!

-Sean


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## Silver Moon (Aug 26, 2005)

I enjoyed it.  

I guess my only complaint is the name of the story - as I have an ongoing Story Hour on this page titled "Revenge, Renewal and the Promise of a New Year" from my PBP campaign.  This could create some confusion.


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## Anti-Sean (Aug 26, 2005)

d'oh! I'm going to go ahead and blame the title similarity on the fact that I was scrambling for a title at 2 AM...I looked over the story hours to make sure nothing was too similar. I *knew* that title came too easily, and sounded too good for a reason! I'll change that ASAP, sorry for the toe-stepping! It's these damn clown shoes...


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## Anti-Sean (Aug 26, 2005)

"Alright Niv, there's no need to panic, we just need to think through this. How do we control this thing?"

	"I don't know, do I look like a 'marked Orien to you?"

	"Not at the moment, no..."

	"You two are in a restricted area! Only Orien personnel are authorized in the lead coach!" Five members of House Orien's security detail strode forward through the cart behind Autumn and Niv, passengers streaming out behind them, anxious to get out of the way. The tall, willowy guard eyed them coolly, puncutating his speech by rapping his truncheon against his hand. "We have a few questions we'd like you to answer before we escort you from the lightning rail, if you would be so kind."

	Niv rolled her almond-shaped eyes audibly. "Look, we _really_ don't have time for this. Why don't you boys just take a nap?" She muttered a few words in the tongue of dragons and waved her left hand vaguely in the direction of the guards. The four guards in the rear slumped to the ground, snoring loudly.

	"You'll have to do better than that, young lady!" The guard smiled broadly. "Your little enchantment worked on the humans, but I am Khoravar like you, that spell has no effect on-"

_*thunk*_

	The guard fell backwards, clutching at the bolt protruding from his neck as Niv lowered her right arm. "Hmmph! Looks like you're not immune to crossbows, _Khoravar_.", she mimed a curtsy as she spat the last word out contemptuously. "Honestly, is there anything more tiresome than a half-elf putting on airs about his heritage?"

	Autumn waited for her to finish her tirade. "Hold on... Where were you hiding that crossbow this whole time?"

	"This is a frilly, poofy dress, Autumn, there are plenty of places to hide it."

	"Where? I don't see any."

	"Umm, that's the whole point, isn't it? Besides, how many evening gowns have you worn?"

	"Fair enough. Maybe I should wear one so I know what can be hidden in them."

	Niv chuckled. "Oh there's a lovely image! I tell you what, if we make it out of this alive, I'll escort you to one of the finest parties in Sharn in whatever dress you'd like."

	"Sounds like a plan. Not that dress, though, you've got blood all over it."

	"Don't worry", Niv smiled coyly, "it's not mine."

	"Hey, that's my line!"

	Niv tossed her hair over her shoulder exaggeratedly. "Well, seeing as how your sense of humor is mostly a side effect of basking in my radiant presence, we'll call it even. Besides, we have more pressing matters to deal with, this lightning rail isn't getting any slower!"

	"Right. We should probably separate the coach from the carts attached to it. I think they should come to a halt safely."

    "Are you sure?"

    Autumn explained himself in a rather nonchalant manner. "No. If I'm right, everyone will be safe, but they'll have no idea we saved them. If I'm wrong, they'll all most likely die a horribly painful death, but won't know that we're responsible. If we do nothing, the same thing will happen. Either way, we don't have to worry about any restless ghosts haunting us for the rest of our days."

	"For some bizarre reason, that makes sense to me. I know that should worry me, but I don't really have that luxury at the moment. So how do we separate the carts?"

	"Well, I've always been a fan of the direct approach." With that, Autumn raised a fist above his head and slammed it into the connection joint between the coach and the first passenger cart. A stroke of lightning arced up through the joint in response, coursing over his body. "Aaaarrrgh! Perhaps a slightly _less_ direct approach is in order!" Autumn kneeled and gazed into the storm raging above them, chanting softly until a nimbus of pale blue light surrounded him. The light faded away as he rose to a crouching position, feet splayed widely, raising a fist once more. "Alright, let's try that again!" Once more his fist hammered down, the connection joint buckling from the force of the blow. Once more, lightning shot over and through his body in retaliation. This time, however, he began to laugh. "Heh! That kind of tickles!"

	Niv cocked her head, regarding him quizzically. "That's odd... I didn't know warforged were ticklish."

	"Neither did I!" A few more strikes from Autumn's mighty fists and the connection snapped. The trailing carts receded swiftly into the distance, slowly coming to a stop as the coach hurtled forward along the path of conductor stones laid out before it. "Well, it looks like they'll be alright." He looked down at the line of conductor stones passing by below them, deep in thought. "Hmm..."

	"What is it, Autumn? I'm not sure I liked the sound of that 'Hmm'."

	The warforged looked around the coach intently, studiously avoiding all eye contact. "Well... nothing really. It's just that, now that I think about it, maybe we should have been in one of those carts instead of the coach!"

	Niv's jaw worked up and down wordlessly for a a few moments. "And you... you didn't think of that until just now?!?! Auugh, I don't believe this! What in Dolurrh did Cannith _do_ when they made you, did they _literally_ fill your head with rocks? Here, take my dagger! Just give it one quick plunge into the back of my neck, it'll be nice and painless!"

	"Well, I didn't hear you chiming in to correct me! In fact, I don't remember you mentioning any ideas at all!"

	Instead of firing back with a scathing retort, Niv's face scrunched up in a perplexed expression. "What? I can't hear you!"

	"I _said_...wait, did the wind just get a _lot_ louder?"

	Wreckage and detritus from the damage inflicted to the coach and its door swirled around the arguing pair before flying out the rear of the coach. Autumn and Niv turned in unison to view the gale force wind whirling in a malevolent frenzy behind them. The elemental was free.

	"Niv, grab hold of something!" Autumn struggled against the vortex pulling him towards the gaping hole where the door used to be. He grabbed hold of the mangled door frame as Niv wedged herself into a secure spot in the front of the coach. "Hold on Niv, just, _oof!_", the corpse of the Emerald Claw soldier smacked wetly against Autumn as it was sucked outside. "Just hold on and we'll be alright!" Just then, a terrible groan followed by a loud crack rang out as the frame he had clung to so tenaciously pulled apart from the rest of the coach, tumbling backwards and upwards into the center of the whirlwind along with him. "Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiv!!!"

	Niv screamed. "NOOO!!! Autumn!!"

	Autumn bellowed loudly over the winds stirred up by the enraged elemental. "Niv, do something, please!"

	"Autumn, you've got to fight it!"

	"Fight it? And how do you propose I do that? Do you know a technique for fighting _air_ that I'm not aware of?" 

	"Well, what do you expect me to do?"

	"I don't know,  _urgh!_ you're a very resourceful _ow!_ person! Perhaps you know a spell or two that might come in handy?"

	"I don't know any that would help in this case!" Niv fidgeted nervously, wringing her hands as she watched her companion being pummeled over and over again as he circled around within the whirlwind above the coach. "Well...I mean, maybe there is one..."

	"Great! Fine! Excellent! What are you waiting for?"

	"I _hate_ casting that spell!"

	"What?!"

	"I hate it! I can't explain it, you wouldn't understand. Besides, you'll laugh at me!"

	"Niv, I can assure you that laughter is the furthest thing from my mind right now!"

	"It...it makes me itch all over for hours every time I cast it."

	"Leg me get this straight, Niv, you don't want to cast the spell because it makes you _itchy_?!?! Oh, that will be a lovely story for you to tell as the years pass by! 'My friend is dead now, but at least I didn't have to briefly suffer from an uncomfortable skin condition!'"

	"Well if you're going to be so rude about it -"

	"Niv, please! I'm being torn to pieces out here!"

	"Alright, fine! Honestly, you're so self-centered sometimes!" Niv concentrated, her fingers tracing intricate patterns through the air as she spoke ancient words of power. She grimaced as twin bolts of fire blazed forth from her outstretched hand, burning through the winds buffeting the warforged about. An unearthly hissing scream issued forth from the center of the whirlwind as it quickly began to dissipate. Autumn fell back towards the earth as soon as the winds were gone, barely managing to grab hold of the speeding coach. Niv scrambled forward to help pull him inside. "Autumn? Autumn, are you alright?"

	"I've been better. Thank you, that was... unpleasant. We don't seem to be slowing down, though. Why is that?"

Niv shrugged. "Maybe there were two elementals?"

	"Oh, please don't say that. I'd rather not go through that a second time!"

	Niv stared through the window at the front of the coach. "Autumn? Do those mountains look a lot closer to you than they did a few minutes ago?"

	"Yes. That means we're coming up on that sharp curve you mentioned earlier, doesn't it? We're going to have to make a jump for it soon."

	Niv nodded, sighing heavily. "It gets better. Look behind us. Jagged outcroppings of rock to the left, and a deep ravine to the right."

	"Hmm. No doubt filled with more jagged rocks at the bottom."

	"Right, unless that's Soft Fluffy Pillow Gorge, and I don't remember seeing that on the map. We don't have much time, Autumn." The coach began to rumble and shudder ominously, underscoring her point. "I think we might as well go for the ravine. At least we'll have a little more time before the end. And we have the lovely surprise of finding out what's at the bottom, rather than what we can already see up here.  There's just no mystery jumping off to the left."

	Autumn stared at her for several long moments, finally adressing her in a distant, almost rehearsed tone. "Niv, If we don't make it through this... There's something I need to say -"

	Niv stood up, turning away quickly. "Stop right there, Autumn."

	"Niv, this is important!"

	She spun back towards him, her voice rising in anger. "No! There's nothing *to* say!"

	"Niv, I've been trying to tell -"

	"Autumn, we are _not_ having this conversation! Every time someone starts off with 'There's something I need to say' in a situation like this, it always ends badly! We don't stand much of a chance at all, but if you say what you are about to say, you'll doom us both. Besides,", she added quietly, eyes downcast, "you don't need to say anything." Regaining her composure, Niv took a deep breath. "I'm jumping now! Are you coming with me, or are you going to sit there and watch me jump alone?"

	The warforged rose to his feet with a sigh. "Why ask a question you already know the answer to?" Autumn took her hand in his. "No matter what, Niv, I go with you."

	The lightning rail coach threw itself forward, unable to follow the sharp curve of the conductor stones at its accelerated speed. Horrible screeching and rending noises filled the night as it crashed and splintered along the rockbed. The resulting cacaphony drowned out all other sound, including that made by the wind whistling past two small figures plummeting through the darkness of the storm into the unknown depths below.


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## Funeris (Aug 26, 2005)

Yeah...I knew the title seemed remarkably similar as well 
And I know you appreciate the sentiment...I'm a SH author as well...and people's responses always help to fulfill that intrinsic reward writing gives us...

I'm enjoying your story...so keep it up!


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## Anti-Sean (Aug 30, 2005)

_Therendor 22, 998 YK
Breland
Wroann's Gate, Sharn_

    Rand Faldren leaned heavily on his halberd, eyes heavy from the remarkably warm weather this early in the spring. His lack of sleep wasn't making it any easier to stay awake. He cursed his friends under his breath, bitterly regretting his decision to follow them out to the taverns last night for 'just one round'. As usual, that one round turned into another, and another, and it was well past the third bell by the time he stumbled home. “Never again!”, he swore to himself for the thirtieth time that day. With great effort, he lifted his aching head to find his gaze alight on the most beautiful woman he could remember seeing in all of his 19 years. Tall and statueqsue, her long dark hair billowed down in curtains around a smooth face with high cheekbones and a delicate chin. Deep brown eyes stared back at him for a moment before she disappeared behind a hedgerow, beckoning for him to follow. Rand tapped a friend on the shoulder and told him to watch his post as he hurried off in pursuit.

    Rounding the corner of the hedgerow, he tumbled headlong into the arms of the mysterious young lady. "It has been a long, hot day in the sun, Rand. You deserve to take a break from all of your hard work." She handed him a mug of ale, which he took in both hands and drank from greedily. "You must be hungry as well!" She handed him a peach and he bit into the succulent fruit, savoring its sweet taste. She smiled as its juice ran down his chin.

    "Who are you? How... how do you know my name?"

    "After so much food and drink, you must rest!" She giggled and pushed him backwards onto what felt like the softest bed in all of Sharn. He could work for 20 years in the Guard and still not be able to afford such luxury. Before he could ask another question, she had climbed on to the bed, gazing down at him with a mischevious grin on her face. His puzzlement as to how the bed had suddenly appeared vanished as she leaned in close to him, and Rand shivered as he felt her cold, wet nose press against his neck. He murmured softly as she began licking his face over and over.

        Rand opened his eyes to find himself flat on his back in the dirt, the muzzle of an enormous white wolf inches away from his face. He screamed and scrambled backwards as a roar of laughter erupted from the guards and travelers around him.

        "Kiva! Easy now, you're going to frighten him." Rand looked up again to see a warforged looming above him, its stone hand extended towards him in an offer of assistance. He grabbed it and pulled himself up, trying to regain what little composure he could as he dusted himself off. Large green eyes that seemed to almost glow of their own accord regarded him from within its helm-like face. A massive jaw of uneven, spiky metal teeth jutted out in a pronounced underbite. The warforged leaned on a long wooden staff, most of its other features hidden beneath a voluminous green cloak. Its voice rang out with the sound of a distant, rolling thunderclap. "I am sorry about that, Kiva can be a bit exubarant at times. I think she likes you!"

        "You-your identification papers, please." Rand stammered, studiously avoiding looking at the wolf.

        The warforged cocked its head slightly. "Identification papers? That's silly. Why do I need pieces of paper to tell me who I am? I can remember that without any problems."

        Rand thought for a moment, the comment taking an eternity to navigate through the pain and haze in his head before making any sense. "Your identification papers are for _us_ to know who you are!"

        "Well, I can tell you who I am easily enough, you just had to ask! My name is Autumn. You've already met my friend Kiva.”

	“Wonderful. And why are you here?”

	“Why are any of us here, really? Isn't that one of the most fascinating questions any of us can ask? I've often wondered that, myself. One answer that-

	Rand felt the pain in his head intensify. “Look, I'm not asking for a philosophical discussion! Why are you here in _Sharn_?!”

 Oh. Well, we have heard a great many things about your city, and we are here to see it firsthand. It has been a long journey from the Reaches, but I have a feeling that this will definitely be worth it! Perhaps we are here to find out why we are here after all!"

        "Yes, yes, that's fascinating, please make your mark here and move along,", adding under his breath, "quickly."

        Autumn walked slowly through the teeming masses of people moving through Wroann's Gate to all manner of other destinations throutout Sharn. He had been to other cities before, but none of them were quite like this. His gazed shifted from the crowds up to the towers above and back again as he walked, Kiva padding along beside him. “I think I'm beginning understand what those bees I spoke to last summer were talking about now, Kiva.”

Kiva barked happily in response.

	After about ten minutes of offering a constant stream of apologies to everyone who bumped and jostled him as they passed by, Autumn felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to meet the owner of the tapping finger: a half-orc almost as wide as Autumn was tall.

_"Dabu! Loktar, zug-zug!"_ Autumn greeted the half-orc cheerfully.

        "What?"

        Autumn repeated himself a little slower and louder, since the half-orc seemed to have trouble understanding him.

        The half orc growled from behind clenched teeth in a voice that sounded like he'd been gargling glass shards since he was three. "You need to start talking some sense, clank, I can't understand a word you're saying."

        "Really? I was using a standard Orcish greeting. Maybe the dialect is different this far south..."

        "Look, I was born and raised here in Sharn, I don't understand any of that Marcher babble. Now, I don't have a whole lot of time. Where is the package?"

        "The package?"

        The half-orc repeated himself a little slower and louder, since the warforged seemed to have trouble understanding him.

        "I'm afraid I don't know what package you're talking about. Also, I don't appreciate being called a 'clank'. My name is-"

        The half-orc sighed, trying to remain calm. "The package that was given to you in Wroat to deliver to me? You were supposed to make the dropoff right after _will you stop licking my hand_!?"

        "That means she likes you! I suppose there aren't very many wolves in Sharn for you to know that."

        "Right. I think she likes the mutton I had for lunch a bit more. You call that a wolf? Sovereigns, I've seen newborn pups that look more threatening! Sure it's big enough, but look at it, wagging its tail with its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth."

        "You seem awfully hung up on appearances. Things aren't always quite what they seem, you know."

        "Ha! You don't know the half of it! Listen, Bron told me to look out for a warforged arriving this afternoon. He said I'd know which one it was when I saw it. And you stick out like a sore thumb, even without the wolf. So give me the package so we can go our separate ways. I have a date with a few pints of ale, and I'd rather not keep them waiting."

        Before he could reply, Autumn felt a tap on his other shoulder. He turned around to see a human grinning broadly, with several others behind him.

	"Please pardon the interruption, but I'm going to have to insist that you give the package to us instead." The human turned to address the half-orc. “I hope you don't mind, Gorm. Strictly business, you understand! Now hand over the package, clank, and no one gets hurt!”


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## Funeris (Aug 31, 2005)

Bump for more readers 
And to remind you that even if I don't update for the next couple days, it'd be nice to have something to read in the meantime 

Good update by the way....I like the way you just threw Autumn into that situation...I'll have to use that package idea...hehe.

~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 1, 2005)

Autumn threw his arms up to the heavens. "What is it with this city? Is _everyone_ here obsessed with papers and packages? You are all mad! And I would like you all to leave me alone before you drive me mad as well!"

	The human at the head of the shifty looking group stared back at the warforged as he warned the half-orc in a cold, even tone. "Gorm, you might want to let your friend here know that I _don't_ ask twice. And neither do my employers."

	Gorm spread his hands wide, grinning obsequiously in an effort to ease the tension. "Look, Halvar, I'm just trying to do my job here. I've got wives and a kid to feed. Or maybe it's the other way around, I can never remember. Anyways, do you really want to get in Bron's way? If you interfere here, there's going to be all sorts of unpleasant repercussions for all of us to suffer through."

	Halvar drew a shortsword from its scabbard; his companions reached for their weapons, following his lead. "The way I see it, Gorm, you're the only one who'll be suffering. I was going to just take the package and be done with you, but now you're going to have to pay for wasting my time as well." He punctuated his speech with short stabbing motions of his sword in Autumn's direction. Kiva's ears folded back against her head as she bared her teeth and growled menacingly.

	Autumn's fist connected with Halvar's wrist in a wide backhanded swipe, sending his sword spinning end over end down the alley. The warforged pressed forward, slamming his other fist into Halvar's face while kicking through his kneecap with a sickening crunch. As Halvar fell to the ground, Autumn adressed the rest of the group before him. "You may leave now, or stay and join him. The choice is yours!" Halvar's men looked at each other for a moment, and then three of them charged forward screaming a battle cry while the two in the rear aimed their crossbows. Two rushed past Autumn towards the half-orc while the other one closed with the warforged. Autumn batted aside a crossbow bolt with one hand and blocked the warrior's clumsy attack with the other. He grabbed the human's head in both hands, lifting him seveal inches from the ground. He twisted the humans neck roughly to the side until he heard a popping sound, then dropped him and rushed forward to stop the crossbowmen, grunting as a crossbow bolt pierced his chest.

	Gorm's shortsword danced and weaved in front of him, parrying the slashes and thrusts of his two foes as best he could as they maneuvered for position. Before they could outflank him, his free hand began tracing a complex pattern in the air as he uttered potent, forgotten words of arcane might. One of the warriors opened two brutal gashes across Gorm's swordarm while he focused on completing the spell, grimacing in pain. His other foe's sword quickly became covered in a viscous grease, slipping from his hand to clatter upon the cobblestones. While he stood there dumbfounded, Gorm lowered his own guard, and thrust his sword deep into the unarmed warrior's belly. Seizing the opportunity, his other opponent reared back for a killing blow before Gorm could recover.

	It was the last thing he ever did.

	Kiva joined the fray, leaping at Gorm's assailant and knocking him onto his back. He screamed, kicking and flailing in a blind panic as she savaged his arms and face. Kiva's jaws clamped down around his throat, cutting his screams off at their source as she pulled her head back with a hideous tearing sound. Wet, gurgling noises issued forth from the bloody, oozing mess where his trachea was a moment before, trailing into silence as Kiva bounded off in Autumn's direction.

	Autumn unstrapped his quarterstaff from his backpack as he ran, reaching the first crossbowman as he was struggling to reload. In one fluid motion, he swung the staff out in front of him with one hand, knocking the crossbow from his targets hands, grasped the staff with both hands on the return arc, and brought it down and across with enough force to take his opponent's legs out from under him. Moving in closer, he reversed his grip on the staff and brought its end down on the prone warrior's face, cracking his skull open. The last of Halvar's allies dropped his crossbow and ran, but Kiva caught up to him with little effort. Autumn stalked towards the last remaining foe and helped Kiva finish him off quickly.

	The warforged surveyed the aftermath of the battle, noticing the wounds on Gorm's arm. "You are hurt. Here, let me see that." He spoke a quiet prayer, then grasped the half-orc's arm in his large hands. As Autumn pulled his hands away, Gorm saw that the wounds had disappeared, leaving only a warm sensation as if he had been laying out in the summer sun. He rubbed his arm, peering at the warforged as if he were deciding how to piece together a puzzle.

	"You really don't have the package, do you?"

	"No."

	"I'm sorry about all that. To be honest, you warforged can be tough to tell apart sometimes. Like I said before we were so rudely interrupted, you stand out a bit, so I assumed you were my contact. I should have known better, any contact worthy of the job should have been able to blend in. What was your name again?"

	"My name is Autumn. This is Kiva. You are called Gorm?"

	"Oh, right...about that... Since I didn't get the package, my contact either got lost or was waylaid or double-crossed us. Whatever the case may be, Bron is going to be more than a little angry. I think it's time for Gorm to lay low for a little while." The half-orc shivered for a moment, and his eyes went a solid grey as his features began to blur and shift, his body shrinking in size and stature. He lost about a foot in overall height, shifting from the stocky frame of a half-orc to a more slender form, details lost under the folds of his now oversized clothes. The patchy tufts of half-orc hair grew longer and thicker, smoothing out into red shoulder-length locks. The rough, pock-marked face of Gorm gave way to that of a pleasant looking human woman. She spoke a quick word of magic, and the half-orc's bulky outfit resized itself and changed into a modest tunic, vest, breeches and boots much more apporpriate for the human's frame. As the change completed, the irises of her eyes came back into view, shaded in a green similar to Autumn's eyes.

	The human woman now standing before him offered her hand to Autumn in greeting. The warforged took the change in appearance in stride, shaking her hand quickly and firmly. "Pleased to meet you two - my name is Niv. By the way, I take back what I said about the wo...I mean, Kiva, being harmless. Remind me not to get between her and a meal! So this is your first time in Sharn, I take it?"

    Autumn nodded. "Yes it is."

	"Well, you've been here for less than half an hour, and you've already commited multiple murders. I think you'll fit right in here! Where are you headed?"

	"I'm not sure where yet. Do you think we should report this to the authorities?  They will probably... why are you laughing?"

	"I'm sorry, that was a good - Sovereigns, you're _serious_?" Niv laughed louder, doubling over for a few moments. After regaining her composure, she continued. "I'm sure they'll find our friends here sooner or later. I doubt the watch will care enough to investigate the death of a pack of thieves like Halvar. It's probably not a bad idea to clean ourselves up a bit, though." She whispered a few arcane words, and then pointed at herself, Autumn and Kiva. The blood and gore spattered across each of them vanished. "Might as well help myself to Halvar's coin while I'm at it." She looked up at the warforged after looting the corpse, pointing to the crossbow bolt still stuck in his chest. "Hey, you're hurt!"

	Autumn looked down at the protruding bolt. "Oh, I had forgotten about that!" One hand closed around the bolt and twisted, snapping it off and leaving the head stuck inside. "I can fix that up a bit later."

	Niv stood up and crossed her arms, pausing for a moment before making her sales pitch. "Well, if you're going to be here in Sharn for a while, you'll probably need a guide. Seeing as how I just lost my job, I can offer you my services, if you'd like."

	The warforged looked around, trying to make sense of the chaotic jumble of streets and people as he pondered Niv's offer. "We are a bit out of our element. How much do you charge?"

	"Oh, I'm _very_ expensive, but worth every crown! We can negotiate a price later," she smiled broadly, "after you buy me a meal and a drink! Follow me, I know just the place!"


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## Funeris (Sep 1, 2005)

You continue to impress, Anti-Sean.

So, is this an actual campaign that's running or is this just a bit of fan fiction?

~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 1, 2005)

Thanks! Although I have to admit to cringing at the words 'fan fiction' placed next to each other, especially in relation to me!  I never thought I'd see the day that I'd sink so low!  I know they weren't meant with any malice, though.

Well, this seems like a good time for a bit of explanation.

I'm not currently in a game, and no one I game with has any plans to run a campaign set in Eberron, so I'm actually gearing up to DM for the first time several weeks for now so I can get my fix! I was excited by some of the elements of the setting as details were announced, and enjoyed it after it was released, but it didn't quite 'click' for me at first, for some reason. I picked up the book a few months later and gave it a good, solid read, and I was hooked. As so many others have said, plot hooks and campaign ideas burst forth from almost every page. The setting really feels alive to me. I've been consistently impressed with the suppliments, as well. It's probably a good thing that I'll be DMing, since I have sooo many different character ideas I want to try!

There were a few factors that lead up to me writing this story, a lack of gametime among them. The warforged are one of my favorite aspects of the setting. I lurk much much much more than I post, but I pretty much devour every thread about warforged. Two in particular that really resonated with me were a discussion about warforged druids here, and a thread on the WotC boards asking if warforged could love. The wheels in my head started turning, and a few weeks later, I realized that I had to get the ideas out of my head somehow. A story hour seemed the best way to do it.

I'll confess that I had absolutely no idea about the story whatsoever when I began writing. I had a few themes that I knew I wanted to explore, and a few set pieces that I thought would be fun, but that was it. I had to go out of state this past weekend, and I was able to solidify a general story arc and most of my ideas during that time, after the first two chapters had been written and posted.  Those first two chapters are very late in the story, but I didn't really have a story yet, per se, and it seemed like as good a place to start as any. I figure if a story in Eberron starts off on the lightning rail, on an airship, or in Sharn (preferably in front of a corpse), you're doing something right! I tried to make the jump backwards in time in the third chapter obvious enough to people unfamiliar with the Galifar calendar without explicitly calling it out. I'll try to make things like that a bit clearer moving forward.

This is the first time I've written anything in ages, probably a good ten years or more, and its already the most substantial body of writing I've produced yet. (The last stuff I wrote was some sappy, crappy teen angst poetry waaaaaay back in the day. Oh, the shame!)  The first four posts total about 6,000 words. I'm enjoying the hell out of it so far - it definitely gets easier the more you do it! One worry I have is making sure that I give each character a distinctive voice and personality. I had originally planned on four main characters a la a standard adventuring party, but I had three that felt strong to me, and couldn't come up with much for the fourth. Three also seemed like an easier number to handle comfortably at this point, too  Two other things that I've worried about so far are dialogue and pacing. This is the first time I've really done dialogue, and it's been interesting so far finding ways to identify the different speakers without resorting to he said/she said, or reams of dialogue without and description/narration. As far as pacing goes, I can be incredibly terse or incredibly verbose, usually at one extreme or the other. I'm trying to balance all that out while leaning towards a punchy, pulpy, Two! Fisted! Action! feel, while still allowing for plenty of character development, interaction, and thematic exploration.

I can't say enough about how much I love warforged. They allow for an incredibly deep exploration into the human condition. What does it mean to be sentient? To have free will? What does one do when the purpose they were created for is no longer necessary? How do the 'forged define themselves now, as individuals and as a race? Hopefully this story will give me a chance to play with some of those ideas without turning into too dry of a philosophical discussion.

Again, I can't thank you enough for all your kind words, Funeris! If no one ever read the story, or if people chimed in to heap derision on it, that'd be alright with me, because I'm writing this for myself. I do remember that day long ago in kindergarten where they taught us to share, though, and I'm glad that you're enjoying it as well!


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## Funeris (Sep 1, 2005)

Ah well...I definitely didn't use the term "fan fiction" maliciously...or didn't intend to.  In retrospect, I should've just called it fiction, even though you are a fan.  A decent amount of Enworlders won't read pure fiction....they want the round by round review of battle, etc.  And for those individuals, they're missing out on this thread!  

I am at the other end of the spectrum...I don't want a round by round review...I can get that playing or DMing...I want exposition based on the game but upgraded to a novel-esque feel.  Or, barring that, I want some fiction.

I recently began as a player in an Eberron game and I am having fun with my warforged.  Although its not a warforged per the Eberron race...but a bit more mixed up/tweaked version.  And he's (it's) a warlock...which I felt would be unique and interesting to play.

Don't worry about the fourth character, mythology teaches that all good things come in threes anyway. 

You're writing extremely well.  And I'm enjoying this very, very much.  Especially since I'm too busy to write updates for my SHs right now.

If you have a moment, an Enworlder by the handle of RagBoy also has some excellent Eberron fiction he's posted.  Its worth the read.  I'll see if I can't dig up the links and post 'em here for you, later.

~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 6, 2005)

Niv led Autumn and Kiva through the streets of Wroann's Gate, ducking and darting through throngs of farmers, laborers and travelers like a fish navigating the shifting currents of the ocean. She regaled her new client with a description of the city of Sharn and a breakdown of its various wards and districts as they walked. One hour and one lift ride later, they were in the Cornerstone district of Middle Tavick's Landing. The weatherbeaten sign above the door Niv finally stopped in front of showed a small cauldron tipped over, its red contents spilling out to form the words 'Bucket of Blood'. Autumn gazed up at the sign, half-whispering, half-chanting a snippet of verse in a far away voice.

_"He waked through the rain
    And he walked through the mud
    Until he came to a place
    Called the Bucket of Blood"_

    Niv looked over at him, arching an eyebrow. "A warforged poet? I really have seen everything now!"

    Autumn chuckled. "No, no, just an old memory from a lifetime ago. There was a scout in one of the campanies I served with during the war who fancied himself to be somewhat of a minstrel. He was always singing a ballad or reciting some epic verse. That was from one he sang most often; the tavern's sign reminded me of it."

    "Was he any good?"

    "He was alright, I suppose. His singing helped to pass the time in camp, and he had his wits about him enough to keep silent in the field. I don't think he ever amounted to much, even if he survived the war. I remember that our lieutenant would always say he was a bad seed. Shall we enter?"

     The roar of the boisterous crowd inside the Bucket of Blood was deafening even compared to the bustle of activity in the streets and marketplaces outside. Autumn observed the tavern out of habit, taking note of the mannerisms, the behavior, and the weaponry of its various patrons. After a few moments, he had already planned out several different escape scenarios in case trouble presented itself. A short, stout, balding man with a prodigious amount of unkempt whiskers and an overabundance of chins bellowed at them as they made their way inside.

    "Oi! You! You cannot bring that mangy mongrel in here without it being leashed up!"

    Autumn stiffened, attempting to maintain his composure as he responded. "I can assure you, sir, that Kiva is no mongrel, and will be no trouble to you or any of your patrons."

    The barkeep waved a pudgy finger in Autumn's face. "I was addressing the lovely young lady here, and I was referring to _you_!" Niv watched the warforged tense up even more. After a few seconds of awkward silence, the barkeep's expression softened, his mouth splitting into a wide, toothy grin and slapping Autumn on the back. "Just having a bit of fun with you, lad! I wanted to see what it'd look like if you smiled with that set of teeth you've got! Come in, come in, make yourselves at home! I'm Doran, and this here is the finest tavern in Cornerstone! Have a seat anywhere you like, and let one of the girls know what we can get for you!"

    Niv picked a small booth tucked away in a far corner of the tavern and flagged down a nearby serving girl. "One mug of tal and a bowl of stew, please." Kiva laid down under the table as Autumn took a seat across from Niv.

    "I'd like some tal as well, please. And a leg of mutton for my friend, as well." Autumn added, shrugging his shoulders at Niv's look of surprise.

    "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't eat or drink, am I right?"

    "That's right. but I've been in enough taverns and inns to know that my kind aren't exactly welcome, since they can't sell us a meal. In the eyes of many innkeeps and barkeeps, each warforged they let in is one less person they can profit off of. So I try to order something just to be polite. You can have mine so it doesn't go to waste."

    Niv smiled. "How very conscientious of you."

    "Well, I must admit, it's not entirely without benefit to me. These are difficult times for all of us. With the war over, my people are struggling to find our way in this world. We seek a greater sense of purpose, as individuals and as a whole. People are trying to move on with their lives, and every time they see me, I serve as a painful reminder to them of what they've lost. To one person, I represent the enemy who took one of his limbs, or ended his comrade's life. To a child, I am a the reason one of her parents never came home, or the farm or village that was destroyed during the war and forced her into a refugee camp." Autumn paused for a moment as their food and drink was delivered. He dropped the leg of mutton under the table for Kiva and continued where he had left off.

    "My people were created for war. Our single, solitary reason for existence was to kill, to maim and to destroy, to prolong the war that nearly consumed this entire world We were given life in order to fight and to die, an expendable replacement for the dwindling numbers of humans able to fight. In the eyes of far too many, that is all we will ever know, and all we will ever be useful for. Yes, a small act of kindness on my part here and there will benefit the person who receives it, and that is very good. Ultimately, though, it is myself and the other warforged who will benefit as each of those acts helps insure that we will gradually come to be judged as individuals who are as worthy and as capable of anyone madeof flesh and blood. At least, that is my hope."

    Niv stared at him, the mug of tal and bowl of stew placed before her moments ago remaining untouched. "Are you sure this isn't some elaborate hoax with a human hidden underneath all of that warforged armor? You have more insight into human nature than most people I've met." She smiled, trailed off into silence. "So what's your story, Autumn? How did you come to these realizations, this level of awareness... is it something you saw during the war?"

    Autumn chafed at the question, his voice becoming somewhat strained. "That is diffcult to say. I consider the war, and any involvement I had in it, to be a lifetime ago in a very literal sense. My life, as far as I am concerned, began almost eight years ago in the Eldeen Reaches. I awoke in the care of an elderly shifter. She taught me the lessons she had learned since childhood; a way to live in harmony with the world around us, to draw strength from it and to return its blessings by defending it from those who would lay waste to it and to its children. Through her, I was initiated into druidic mysteries that stretch back for thousands of years. From her, I gained a sense of purpose, a reason for being, and the beginnings of an understanding of my place in the grand scheme of things."

    "Oh? And what would that place be?"

    "I don't know yet. As I said, I'm only beginning to understand it." Autumn's jaw flexed in a way that almost resembled a smile. "I watch, and I learn, I observe signs and portents as I find them. When I learn of my place for certain, I'll let you know. Before I left the Reaches, my teacher told me she had seen several signs. These signs told her that I would find the answers to some of my questions in Sharn. So, after several months of travel, here I am. An that's my story, for the most part. If I may return the question, Niv, what is your story? And what is your place?"

    Niv took a long, slow sip of her tal before setting it down on the table and answering. "Now that isn't as easy it would seem. I've lived in Sharn my whole life. Or for all of my lives, I guess you could say. I spend so much time wearing different faces that sometimes, the lines between who I am inside, and who I am at the moment tend to blur after a while. Where does Niv end, for instance, and where does Gorm, the half-orc you met earlier, begin? Is there really a difference between the two? Are they masks that I choose to wear, roles that I choose to play, or different pieces of me that reveal themselves at different times? Multiply that by the number of different names and faces and lives I wear, and I still don't think I'd be ready to begin to answer your question. I suppose its like being an actor on a stage permanently. You know, it's funny; I've heard it said that there are some people who are always alone in a crowd. Well, some of us can be our very own crowd, and still find ourselves alone."

    "It certainly sounds like it is a burden for you. Regardless, I would very much like to be able to do what you can do. I know who I am, and who I'm trying to be, but most people will only see me for what they think I am. You are able to make people see you in whatever way you want them to."

    Niv looked away, a slight cast of bitterness coloring her laughter as she drummed her fingers on her mug. "But at what price, Autumn? Is it worth it if I wind up losing myself in the process?"

    "I don't know, but I think that it's harder to get lost when you have companions with you. Kiva and I look out for each other since our paths crossed. I don't know where I would be if not for her. You don't have to be alone, Niv. No one has to be, if they don't want to."

    Niv nodded, lost in thought as she drank her tal. They sat there for a while in silence, alone in the raucous crowd of the tavern.


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## Funeris (Sep 6, 2005)

Bravo...Bravo.

One thing though...In Autumn's last spoken paragraph: "I don't know, but I think that it's harder to get *lots*..."  Emphasis mine of course.  I know you meant lost but...   That's why spellchecker will never work 100%

I love the character insight at the end of the section.  You're definitely translating their personalities quite well into the written word.  I empathize with them.  And through their seperate experiences (related through speech), one can see why they ended up journeying together.  They're two sides of the same coin.

Bravo.

~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 13, 2005)

_Lharvion 9, 998 YK
Breland
Cornerstone, Sharn_

"Niv, wake up! We're going to be late!" Autumn stood over Niv's bed, shaking her gently to rouse her from her slumber. "It's already past the tenth bell, we don't have much time!"

Niv moaned something unintelligible from beneath her sheets.

"Niv, you've been talking about this job for days, I know you don't want to lose this one. We need to go _now_!"

"Uuuuurggh, no shouting! My head feels like brgrgkgglpphh...."

"Well, I tried to warn you not to start a drinking contest with a bunch of shifters in their own tavern. You're not used to the spirits they drink."

"wazzzeazzy... no problem. goodtimez had by all. now more sleep."

Autumn sighed heavily, his broad shoulders sagging in defeat. "Alright, I didn't want to do this... Kiva! Come here!" Kiva barked happily and jumped up on the bed, licking Niv's face. Niv leapt out of bed screaming.

"Auuugh!!! Eeew eew eew eew. Okay, okay, I'm up!" Niv stretched languorously, yawning as the taut, lithe muscles of the shifter form she was wearing began to wake up before clutching her head and grimacing in pain. "_Owwww._ Did you put a bunch gnomes inside my head while I was asleep? I don't remember ever being in so much pain!"

"Be glad it's still attached to your shoulders. Do you remember the dwarf you had been talking to? You told him that you thought he was a woman because his beard was so short, and then you passed out. I had to fill the tavern with fog just to get us both out of there alive after that. It took me until just a few minutes ago to get most of the dents from that hammer of his out of my legs. You made it out of there last night with two marriage proposals and only four death threats. I'd say it was quite an accomplishment. We're behind schedule, though. If you want to make it to the arena in time to catch a skycoach, you'd better hurry up and get changed! I'll give you something for your headache along the way."

***

Autumn flagged down a skycoach that sailed in just as they reached Cornerstone Arena. A low growl from Kiva insured that no one else tried to barge their way on to the coach before them. "Lareth Hall, Morgrave University, please." The skycoach driver nodded curtly to Autumn, gave Niv a look of disdain, and tried to stay as far away from Kiva as possible without falling out of the small craft.

"This is a new form for you, Niv. I don't think I've ever seen you looking quite like this before." Niv had taken on the appearance of a male changeling about 5 and a half feet tall, with an unruly shock of grayish white hair. Two large, solid white eyes dominated a smooth, nearly featureless gray face.

"Well, I figured I should let our employer know who they're dealing with, but I don't feel the need to give away all my secrets. And by the way, the name for this face is 'Mok'."

"Sorry, Mok. So how did you get this job again? Can we trust our employer?"

Mok scoffed. "Of course we can't trust them - we can't trust anyone, especially someone who would hire services through Professor Saeral."

"Who is Professor Saeral?"

"Professor Malloran Saeral is a doddering, senile old elf who teaches _Comparative analysis of gender roles in Early Dhakaani artwork_ at Morgrave University. He's had an office buried deep inside one of the towers of Morgrave for as long as anyone can remember. Strangely enough, no one ever seems interested in signing up for such an esoteric subject. He is known amongst those who are in the know as a man with connections. He is legendary for his ability to connect interested parties with hired help suitable for a variety of delicate and discrete tasks. Crusaders and scoundrels, thieves and explorers, thugs and smugglers, the good Professor always seems to know just the right person for a job. What most people don't know is that Malloran Saeral doesn't exist. It's an open face for any and all changelings in Sharn to wear when they're looking for work. People looking to hire talent through the Professor leave a message in his office. From time to time, a changeling will wear his face, show up at his office, and if he finds a job he likes, introduce himself to the client as being referred by the Professor."

"Interesting. What happens if two changelings show up at once?"

"There are a few signals we leave for each other so that two Mallorans don't show up in the same place at the same time. It's a pretty good system; Saeral's office clerk doesn't even know about it, the clerk just collects his messages when he's out and passes them on to him whenever he shows up. There's always a job for someone. If you find something that doesn't suit your interests or talent, there's bound to be someone else who will take the job. Most of them are pretty small-time, but occasionally, you find a big one. And Autumn, my friend, we have found ourselves a big one this time!"

Mok's explanation was interrupted by the bored voice of the skycoach pilot. "Lareth Hall, Morgrave University. That'll be 15 sovereigns."

***

The inside of Professor Saeral's office looked about as old as Sharn itself. Papers and books were stacked almost to the ceiling, filling up the entire front room. Narrow paths from the door to the clerk's desk, Saeral's private office, and a small meeting room provided the only visible evidence of the floor. Niv announced their presence in a cheery voice. "Hi there! We're Mok and Autumn, here for a meeting with some of the professor's associates." The young human clerk looked up from her copy of the Korranberg Chronicle, annoyed at the disturbance.

"Yes, so you are. You're just in time. The others are already waiting for you in the meeting room."

Autumn opened the door into a small, dimly lit chamber dominated by a large, round oak table surrounded by six chairs. Across the table, a female hobgoblin clad in resplendent chainmail reclined in her chair, fixing a stern gaze on each of the three figures in turn as they entered the room. A hulking brute of a bugbear stood at attention behind her, one giant hand poised near the morningstar dangling from his belt.

"I am Meksoor Dhakaan, Ambassador of Darguul. In this place, I am the hand and voice of the Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat'kor. You are the changeling Mok and the warforged Autumn. You will sit."

Autumn and Mok each took a chair as instructed, while Kiva sat on her haunches at Autumn's side. Mok tried to break the ice. "Was it a long journey from Darguul, Ambassador?"

"The journey was uneventful, and the destination most unpleasant. This city is overrun with verminous humans, their very presence an affront to the former glory of Ja'shaarat. Every moment I spend here within their stink is an eternity, so you would do well not to waste my time with idle banter. What proof can the two of you provide me that you are worthy of the task I have for you? Time grows short."

Autumn interjected as Mok tried to hold back a slew of insults. "In addition to the gifts all changelings share, my associate is as skilled in swordplay as he is in wordplay. He also possesses a fair amount of sorcerous talent. I am a veteran combatant and tracker, and an Initiate of the Wardens of the Wood. The wolf, Kiva, is a deadly hunter. The three of us are more silent and discreet than most you could hire, save perhaps for the two goblins hiding in the shadows behind us."

Meksoor allowed her face to express a small amount of surprise. "You were able to see them? How is that so?"

"No, I did not see them, Ambassador. It was a fair guess. You are no doubt a formidable combatant yourself, given your station and the noise of the brutally spiked links of chain hanging from your waist. You are too wise to travel solely in the company of the Marguul behind you, fearsome and worthy as he certainly is. The skills of the shaarat'kesh are legendary, and it stands to reason that one such as you would be able to retain their services. The heirs of Dhakaan are too crafty to rely too heavily on standard tactics, but guessing that one lay in wait on either side of the door seemed a reasonable assumption to make."

Meksoor flashed a grin full of sharp teeth. "I will admit, warforged, I am impressed. Saeral seems to be worthy of his reputation after all." With a signal from her hand, the bugbear behind her produced a small satchel, placing it on the table. "Among the contents of this package, you will find a map to an ancient temple, a remnant of the eternal glory of the Empire of Dhakaan. Buried deep within is an item that is... precious to me. Eleven thousand years ago, our land was first defiled by the foul presence of the elves. After a brief struggle, the superiority of our mighty Empire was proven, and the elves were driven from our land in disgrace, swearing never to return. True to their nature, though, they have betrayed their words, and now seek to carve out a new home for themselves in our ancestral land." She slammed her fist against the table. "This insult shall _not_ be allowed. Within your destination lies one of the most powerful weapons our empire ever produced. It allowed us to end the conflict with the invaders quickly and decisively. It is called Duur Kasaal, and you will retrieve it for me."

Mok tried to catch his breath, whispering as if in a dream. "Cassael's Lament".

"You have heard of it? Again, you surprise me. I have also provided you with several sets of identification and traveling papers, and a modest line of credit from an untraceable House Kundarak account. Passage has been booked and paid for on tomorrow's lightning rail bound for Thaliost. That should get you most of the way there. Succeed, and I may have more work for you in the future. If you fail, pray that you perish in your attempt to recover my weapon. Whatever death you may find there will be a blessing compared to what I will do to you, should you return empty handed."

Mok slung the satchel over his shoulder, sidling towards the door slowly. "Not to worry, Ambassador. You've picked the right people for this job."

"There is one more thing before you go. Given the danger involved in recovering Duur Kasaal, we have hired an additional swordarm to aid you. You will find him here." The bugbear handed a folded parchment to Autumn. "Now go."

***

"Autumn, can you believe this!? I knew this was going to be big, but this! This is our ticket out of here! If we pull this off, we're set!" Niv bounced around animatedly as she spoke, wearing the same face and clothes she wore to their first visit to the Bucket of Blood several months ago.

"Settle down, Niv, you're going to fall out of the skycoach!"

"I can't settle down! Don't you understand? After this, I can leave this city for good! You _know_ how long I've been waiting for that!"

"I know, Niv, I know. That's why I think it would be best to calm down so we can plan this through and make sure we get everything right. It looks like we're almost in Clifftop. Lets find Meksoor's sellsword so we can get on with this."

***

Autumn, Niv and Kiva received a cold stare from the innkeeper of the Broken Flagon as they entered into the late morning gloom of the run down establishment. "We don't want yer kind in here, clank! What do you want, and be quick about it!"

"My apologies, sir. I need but a moment of your time." Autumn checked the name written on the parchment in a precise, firm script. "I'm looking for Sir Aldren Morathus."


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## Funeris (Sep 13, 2005)

Loved the idea of Professor Saeral, may have to use that if I ever run an Eberron Campaign (which you're making me yearn for).

The dialog is top notch, Anti-Sean. 

~Fune


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## Black Bard (Sep 16, 2005)

Great, great, story, Anti-Sean!!! The interaction between Niv and Autumn is just fabulous, anf as an Eberron fan and DM I'm must compliment the way you just put the scenario flavor into your SH. Congratulations!


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 20, 2005)

Thank you very much for the kind words, Black Bard, and thank you Funeris, as always! Feel free to use Professor Saeral, Funeris. I was trying to come up with a plausible contact for them to get the job through, and once the idea clicked in my head, I thought it'd be a great tool to use in game as well. I had to struggle for a while to not saddle him with a cheesy joke name a-la Professor I.N. Cognito or somesuch  The last post put this story over the 10,000 word mark, I can hardly believe it! I finished a first draft of the next update late last night. I may get impatient and give it a quick revision and post at lunch, but it'll more likely go up late tonight after a more thorough revision and a once-over by my wife. She's mentioned that it reads a bit like a screenplay to her, so now that I'm more comfortable with the dialog, I need to start moving in the other direction and make sure there's enough description happening, as well.

The next update was a bit harder to write than the last few. (Public service announcement: listening to Tom Waits while you're trying to write does *not* help, unless by 'writing' you mean curling up into a fetal position and sobbing, or heading out to the bar to crawl into a bottle.)  The upcoming leg of the story is the one that is least fleshed out in my mind so far. Once we get past a certain point, it should all fly right off the keyboard, though. I know where I want it to go, I just have to make sure I put enough pieces in place to get it there the way I want to.

It's great knowing that I've got some other people along for the ride, it definitely makes it a lot easier!


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## Sidekick (Sep 20, 2005)

Hi Anti-sean.

I'll take this opportunity to say - THIS ROCKS!!!!

and 

give me more....

I think that I'll also be using prof saeral. Its a very cool concept, and I'd love to have my PCs hired by the same person, for two completely different jobs. perhaps the second time to steal back something that they've already taken from another.

hehehehehe


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## Anti-Sean (Sep 21, 2005)

The inkeeper grinned wickedly. "Yer here for Morathus, eh? Well, whatever business you have with the knave, you'd best be quick about it! I sent my boy out to fetch the guard on him not minutes ago. Hasn't paid his rightfully owed debts, he hasn't! Trying to ruin me own livelihood out of spite!"

    Autumn responded in a dry, flat tone. "Yes, I'm sure you've suffered terribly at his hands, sir. How much does he owe you?"

    "Well, he's had a room here for a week, and he's drank nearly all the Nightwood Ale I have in my cellar. I'd say he owes me more than thirty sovereigns, not counting the mental anguish I've gone through!"

    Autumn produced five golden coins from a pouch and placed them on the bar, where they promptly disappeared into the inkeepers clutches. "These galifars should cover your expenses, sir. Now if you don't mind, we have an appointment to keep."

    The inkeepers demeanor changed from one of outright contempt to poorly disguised greed as he quickly calculated how much he bilk out of the naive seeming warforged. "Certainly, certainly sir! Mind you don't disturb me other customers!"

    Niv leaned in closer to her companion, muttering under her breath as they moved towards the rear of the tavern. "Other customers? Unless the rats swarming around are paying him, I'd say the old wretch is delusional!" The common room of the tavern was empty, save for one table near the cold fireplace in the rear. A man in a modest, drab tunic and breeches sat there alone, hunched forward over a mug of ale clutched in his large hands, one of which bore a large opalescent ring. Long, straight blonde hair fell forward over a hard, gaunt face full of severe angles and covered with a close cropped beard. Eyes the color of steel watched them as they approached, cold and intense at the same time. He took one long swig of ale before setting it down as they stood above him.

    "You must be Autumn and Niv. Meksoor sent word that you would be arriving soon. Please have a seat. I would offer you some of this ale, but it would be a shame to let it go to waste. The warforged can't drink it, and I'd wager the lady would prefer a lighter fare, especially at this hour." 

    Niv held a wrist to her forehead in a dramatic pose. "Oh, thank you, kind sir, for your thoughtfulness! Why, _'the lady'_ is likely to faint at the mere smell of such an intoxicating brew. Hopefully, a big, strong man as noble and gallant as yourself will be there to catch her should that happen." She punctuated her response by falling into her chair and pantomiming a fit of wretching.

    Sheepishly trying to avoid Niv's white-hot glare, Aldren looked down to find a wolf's head laid across his leg, her large brown eyes gazing up at him. "And, err... who is your friend?", he asked, his tone relaxing slightly as he scratched her behind her ear.

    "Her name is Kiva. I think she likes you, Sir Morathus, -"

    Autumn was interrupted by an upraised hand. "It is simply Aldren Morathus, warforged. That title was given up long ago. I have proven myself unworthy of it."

    "There's a surprise," Niv grumbled to no one in particular.

    "My apologies, Si... Aldren. I noted you as a member of the Order of Rekkenmark, and sought to address you in a suitable manner."

    Aldren smiled wryly, the steel of his eyes softening somewhat as he fingered the ring on his finger. "You are very observant. Not many these days recognize its meaning."

    Autumn shrugged. "I killed many men and women who bore that ring in the war."

    The steel returned to Aldren's eyes as he calmly set down the mug he had just picked up again, replying with an icy calm. "Is that a threat, warforged? I assure you, I am up to the challenge, if you are so foolish."

    Autumn raised his hands in a supplicating gesture. "Again, I must offer my apologies, Aldren, I meant it as neither a threat nor a boast. I merely sought to explain my familiarity with the ring. I saw combat across much of Khorvaire during the war, but a great deal of it was against the stalwarts of Karrnath. Out of the many forces we were put up against, they were the deadliest. We lost far more of our soldiers to them than the reverse. The humans I served with always paled when the banner of the red wolf appeared on the field, while my fellow warforged relished the chance to test their mettle against a truly deadly foe. Those comrades of mine were the biggest fools of all. Whether the foe was powerful or weak, battle-hardened knights or terrified conscripts, the end result was always the same: death. 'The Last War', they call it, in some vain attempt to ascribe some larger meaning or worth to it. Such utter nonsense! That war was the same as all other wars. It brought nothing but pain and suffering, death and destruction and untold loss to us all, simply because a few siblings couldn't agree on which one of them got to wear a crown. I would never boast about any actions I took during its course."

    Aldren held his gaze for a long, pregnant pause, before lifting his mug towards Autumn. "Now _that_, Autumn, is a sentiment I can drink to."

    Niv cleared her throat loudly. "Well, boys, while I hate to interrupt Aldren's healthy breakfast, or your little Veteran's Society swapping of old war stories, we have a lightning rail to catch tomorrow morning, and we need to get some supplies. I suggest we start that as soon as possible."

    Aldren nodded. "The lady is right. Please allow me to retire to my room and collect my things. I shall be but a few moments. If you'll excuse me." He rose from his chair with a stiff, perfunctory bow, and climbed the nearby staircase to his room.

    "Hmmm. He seems decent enough, if a bit stiff. We could have done far worse, as far as companions go. What do you think, Niv?"

    "Oh, did you remember I was still here? How thoughtful of you. I didn't want to interrupt the two of you while you were so busy polishing your swords."

    Autumn arched a metal eyebrow. "I'm not following you, Niv."

    "Never mind, Autumn," Niv snapped irritably, "Lets just hurry up, collect what we need, and get out of this damned town."

    As if on cue, a squadron of the Sharn Guard sauntered in through the inn's doors, their truncheons swinging lazily. Their leader, a short, squat human almost dwarvish in build, scanned the tavern room. "Alright, the word is we've got someone here who hasn't paid his proper dues," he proclaimed. "We aim to rectify that situation, one way or another."

    Autumn rose from his chair, Kiva appearing at his side instantly as he strode forward towards the guards. "I believe you gentleman are referring to my companion. I have already settled his debt; the inkeeper has been paid in full."

    The guard looked back at his comrades, sharing a gutteral laugh with them before addressing Autumn. "Oh really? Well, that's just lovely to hear. The only problem is, clank, _we_ haven't gotten _our_ fair share. We've been called away from our routine patrol to attend to this here issue, and we expect proper compensation for our troubles. It's the only way to keep our fair city safe and clean and respectable."

    Autumn's head cocked to the side. "If you seek payment, I suggest you speak to the bursar at your office when your shift is over."

    A wicked leer spread across the guards face. "Look at this, boys, someone's even teaching these stupid clanks to tell jokes now! Well listen good, clank - I don't find you very funny! I think its time someone taught you to respect your betters!"

    Niv sidled up next to Autumn, whispering through clenched teeth. "Autumn, this is _not_ a good idea. Just let it go, don't provoke them. We can still talk our way out of this."

    Autumn scoffed. "Please, Niv, do you honestly think this rabble is even barely a threat?"

    "No, Autumn, I don't. Does the fact that they're members of the Guard mean anything to you? Do you really want to get us locked in some jail cell right as we're about to finally leave this city? I'm sorry, but I'm not about to let that happen!" She turned towards the head guard, reaching for her coinpurse. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry for my companion's behavior, he still hasn't quite learned how things are done around here."

    The guard screwed his face up into a look of mock horror. "Are you trying to offer me a bribe? Me, an officer of the city guard? You make me sick! You're both under arrest! Boys, take them down, and make it hurt!"

     The ominous sound of slow, thunderous footsteps coming down the staircase stopped the guardsmens' advance before it began. Heavy, hobnailed boots descended step by step, revealing a towering figure clad in glistening black platemail. An open-faced helm carried in his right hand, Aldren Morathus strode forward through the tavern to stand next to Autumn and Niv, a shaft of sunlight from the doorway glinting off of the fist-sized crimson jewel set in the middle of his breastplate. "If you're taking my companions somewhere, gentlemen, I would like to accompany them, if you don't mind. Or shall I show you Mercy once more, Tars?" His left hand lifted upwards, reaching towards the foot and a half long hilt of a sword jutting out over his shoulder.

    The guard went pale, stammering as he wheeled on the inkeeper. "You didn't tell me it was him! The Keeper take the lot of you! Come on, boys, we're off!" He spat on the floor and pushed his way through the other guards as they quickly followed him out of the inn.

    "Friends of yours, I take it?" Niv jerked a thumb towards the door.

    A corner of Aldren's mouth raised in a slight smile. "I ran into Corporal Tars about a week ago in an alleyway behind a tavern. He was of the opinion that his status as a member of the city guard allowed him to be rather more forward with a young lady than I thought was proper. The fact that he's walking again so soon is a testament to the skills of House Jorasco's healers."

    "Which begs the question of what you were doing in that alleyway in the first place," Niv smiled acidly. "I have to ask, Aldren, who's your tailor? That's definitely not a light and breezy summer number. You must lose ten pounds a day just by sweating in that thing. And don't you think that big red rock on your chest is a bit... gaudy?"

    "This armor was forged for my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather by the finest smiths in all of Karrnath. All of the eldest sons of the Morathus line have worn it since then. As for the 'big red rock', as you refer to it, I must admit that I'm surprised you haven't seen the symbol of the Blood of Vol before."


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## Solarious (Oct 3, 2005)

What is this story doing on the second page? A whack up to the top of the page!


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## Anti-Sean (Oct 18, 2005)

I'm very sorry for the lack of updates! Let me see if I can give a quick breakdown of how busy this past month has been: In addition to a bout of writer's block, I had a nasty cold, my wife had a nasty cold, my wife had two gallery openings for her photography, we had an anniversary to celebrate, her birthday to celebrate, and work has been quite busy. Coming up in the next few weeks, I've got another gallery opening to attend, the Underdark Prerelease, my brothers wedding, and hopefully, the beginning of my first stint as a DM! (in an Eberron campaign, of course) I'm not used to having this much going on, I've become accustomed to a very sedentary lifestyle.  On a positive note, I have the first draft of the next update complete. Now I just need to give it a good revision, run it by my wife, and I should have it ready for posting either tonight or tomorrow night. This next one and perhaps one or two after that might be a bit talky/expository, but the action should pick up shortly. Thanks for your patience!


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## Funeris (Oct 18, 2005)

No worries.  You weren't the only one that's been busy or suffering from writer's block!

~Fune


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## Solarious (Oct 19, 2005)

Not to worry! Most of us who write tend to hit this roadblock at one point or another in our careers as scribblers-for-hire. Talking is good, always space for character development, ya know.

*whips out a note pad and starts taking furious notes*

Keep on going.


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## Anti-Sean (Oct 21, 2005)

_Lharvion 10, 998 YK
Breland
Terminus, Sharn_

    The district of Terminus in Lower Tavick's Landing teemed perpetually with throngs of passengers arriving in and departing from Sharn via the lightning rail. This morning was no exception. The enormous lightning rail station dominated the district, a cavernous, opulent testimony to the wealth and power of House Orien. The local administrators of the house had allowed all manner of businesses to open up shop within and around the station, and a thriving marketplace had grown in its shadow. House Orien couriers waited to be dispatched to locations all across Khorvaire carrying parcels for those too busy or too poor to afford the trip themselves, while House Sivis had found an ideal location for a large message station, servicing the communication needs of lightning rail passengers. Autumn, Niv, Kiva and Aldren made their way through the marketplace in order to begin their journey, passing by a large park across from the station.

    A small group of demonstrators had gathered in the park seeking to draw the attention of the latest batch of travelers arriving and departing. They held signs and chanted songs full of hateful invective against the warforged race, decrying their very existence. Niv cursed under her breath as Autumn took notice of the group and subtly changed direction in order to walk directly in front of them. He lowered the hood of his cloak, allowing the meager sunlight penetrating the morning mist to glint off of his mostly steel head. Some of the demostrators grew more boisterous and vociferous at his presence. He slowed his pace almost to a crawl, slowly and deliberately meeting the gaze of each demonstrator in turn without a word, Kiva padding alongside him slowly, her low growls speaking for him. Niv wrapped a hand around one of the warforged's thick, trunk-like arms. "Come on, Autumn, let's go. They're not worth it." Autumn responded with a grunt and one last stony glare at the crowd, and turned to follow his companions toward the station.

   Niv thought she heard Autumn whisper a few words under his breath, but couldn't be sure. A chorus of screams erupted behind them a few moments later, confirming her suspicions. She turned around to see the group of demonstrators panicking as long, ropy vines burst forth from the ground below them, tangling themselves around the demonstrators and holding them in place. Several nearby members of the Sharn Guard had rushed forth to aid them, only to be held fast by the vines as well. Autumn was peering around at anything other than the crowd in a determinedly disinterested manner, humming a soft tune.

   The inspection by Orien conductors passed by without incident. Niv was wearing the face of a young half-elf noblewoman to match the identity papers provided to her by Meksoor. The conductor was appropriately deferential to her, and paid little notice to the 'retainers' traveling with her. Aldren played the part of her bodyguard with sufficient aplomb, but Autumn bristled slightly at being referred to as a servant, and even moreso at Kiva being described as a 'pet' and a 'curiosity' to be gifted to a relative in Aundair.

   The porter greeted the group with a wide grin, bowing and scraping obsequiously before the Lady ir'Tain, as he repeatedly referred to Niv. "Not to worry, milady, you can keep the clank in the cart here with the rest of the baggage. There's no need to waste a valuable seat that a passenger can use!" He chuckled at his own joke and reached up to pat Autumn on the shoulder. "No offense taken there now, all in good fun!"

   Autumn gave a slight, stiff bow. "None taken." His fist shot out and smashed into the porter's nose. The warforged caught the unconscious body before it reached the ground, and stuffed him unceremoniously into the baggage cart, tossing a few nearby pieces of luggage on top of the porter for good measure. He turned to his companions, with a hard, angry edge to his voice. "Now that _that's_ taken care of, shall we find our seats? Suddenly, I find myself anxious to leave this city." He stomped off towards the passenger carts with Kiva close behind, Niv and Aldren following along wordlessly.

   Niv rounded on Autumn the moment the group arrived in their private room in the luxury cart, her voice tight between clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice low. "Have you lost your mind, Autumn? Are you trying to end this journey before it begins? Sure, the porter was a buffoon, but was that really the best way to respond to him?"

   Autumn's reply was spat out, wet and oily with sarcasm. "I'm terribly sorry to have upset your plans, Niv. Far be it from me to take offense when it seems that every single human I've dealt with today would be happier if I didn't exist! The fact that _some_ of my companions have been in a foul mood since yesterday certainly didn't help to improve my reactions either!"

   Niv exploded. "Oh, get over yourself, Autumn! You're not the only one here whose people aren't wanted! I'd be in the same situation as you if I wore my own face around here, so don't you _dare_ take that imperious tone with me!"

   Aldren backed towards the door. "I can see you two have much to discuss, so I'll just see what's available in the dining cart." Turning around as he opened the door, he accidentally elbowed the porter they had dealt with earlier in the nose, eliciting a howl of pain from him, and nearly knocking over the conductor accompanying him.

   The conductor cleared his throat and addressed the group in a quiet, brusque manner, eager to avoid drawing the attention of any other passengers. "Excuse me, milady and sirs, but my porter here claims that he was assaulted by one of your number. Would you care to enlighten me as to what he is going on about?"

   Niv stopped herself in mid argument, and paused for a moment, composing herself before responding in a polite, yet subtly haughty manner. "Your porter appears to be mistaken." She leaned in closer to the conductor, one hand gently touching his arm as she spoke in a more confidential tone. "I didn't want to mention anything before, but I noticed his behavior was quite erratic, and I smelled strong drink upon his breath. He must have fallen down in a stupor and injured himself, and sought a scapegoat to cover up for his malfeasance. I *suggest* you give him a stern reprimand and keep this matter to yourself."

   The conductors eyes had glazed over unnaturally, and he hung on Niv's every word. "Yes, yes, milady, quite right you are. I'm terribly sorry for the interruption." He grabbed the porter roughly by the arm and lead him further along the lightning rail. "Come along, you shiftless layabout, there's work to be done! You'll be sorry you ever thought to lay the blame for your own shortcomings on our fine guests!"

   Aldren scratched his bearded chin to cover his smile. "That was well done, but a little risky, enchanting him like that. What happens when your spell wears off?"

   Niv shrugged her shoulders. "Who cares? We'll be long gone by that time."

   "Very well then. About that food cart..." Aldren quickly exited the room without colliding with anyone.

   Niv turned on Autumn once more. "Since you seem to be unaware as to why _some_ of your companions have been in a foul mood, allow me to spell it out for you. In three months of friendship, Autumn, three months, I have heard nothing about your past during the war. Nothing! Occasionally I'll hear you absentmindedly humming a marching song, but that's about all. You haven't told me one word about it. And you know what? I'm alright with that. If you want to leave your past behind you, I can understand that; you're not the only one. But that doesn't seem to be the case here. The very first time you speak with Aldren, you tell him more about your past than you've ever bothered to tell me. And you wonder how I could be slightly bothered by that?"

   Autumn stood stock still, his jaw working up and down silently as he struggled to find a response.

   Niv's voice softened, and the anger in her eyes faded away. "You don't need to have an answer for me, Autumn, but you might want to find one for yourself. In any event, I think Aldren had the right idea. I'm not very hungry at the moment, but I'm going to see about some food." She turned on her heel and exited the room. Kiva gave the warforged a long look and a plaintive whimper, and padded along behind her.

   Autumn sighed deeply as he sat down, sinking into the luxurious cushions their room was furnished with. He leaned his head against the window and watched Terminus and the rest of Sharn fade into the distance as the lightning rail began its journey. "This is going to be a very long trip..."


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## Solarious (Oct 21, 2005)

Anti-Sean said:
			
		

> "This is going to be a very long trip..."



Truer words have never been said.  Especially now that we're on a Lightning Rail... Oh, the possibilities!


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## megamania (Oct 21, 2005)

Like what I am reading.  

An yes- Electric Rails can be an adventure within themselves.


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## Solarious (Nov 5, 2005)

Because of unseen circumstances...
Under extreme duress...
Maybe a compromise can be reached...
Power to the Warforged!


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## Eluvan (Nov 6, 2005)

Mmmm... very nice. Interesting and likeable characters, a compelling story, evocative descriptions, sparky dialogue, and the whole thing positively reeks of Eberron. Ummm... in a good way. 

 I look forward to reading more!


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## Funeris (Nov 7, 2005)

Well, Anti-Sean, since you haven't updated in a few weeks...it must be because I haven't responded yet!  

So, brace yourself for more praise.

You utilize excellent characterization techniques.  Truly.  You make me feel for the characters...you make it seem that these are people I've known all my life...emotions very real and very believable.  And, I think the only mistake I noted was in the very first sentence with the tense of 'arrive'.  But I dunno...that may just be me...I'm feeling a bit out of it today on my second read of this thread.  

So, now that you've received my praise.....*update already!!!*



~Fune


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## Anti-Sean (Nov 7, 2005)

Thanks to all, old posters and new, for the bumps and the comments (and the typo checks)! I was out of town from Friday to late last night, called back to the ancestral home in Quinnehtukqut, _Beside the Long Tidal River_, to watch my baby brother wed his lovely bride. The last of our brood has now cast off the comfort of childhood and taken on the mantle of adulthood, marriage and responsibility, with all the awesome wonders and terrors that such an act entails. I'm immensely proud of him and happy for them both, and I can't wait to see how they grow together.

And that's my excuse for the delay in updating. If I take too long again, I'm going to have to find someone else to marry off! 

I've got the general flow of the next update percolating in my addled, absent-minded brain right now (we're going to let Autumn stew in silence for a while and turn the spotlight on to some of the other characters for this one. He's been hogging most of my attention lately anyways, so it's only fair). I'm hoping to have the update ready for posting this week, but I'm running my very first session as a DM (in Eberron, of course!) this weekend, so preparing for that may take precedence. Thanks again for the interest and feedback!

-Sean
AMOR VINCIT OMNIA


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## Sidekick (Nov 15, 2005)

Bump I say Bump!!!

give me more!!!


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## Anti-Sean (Nov 15, 2005)

Well, I finished the first draft of the next update Thursday night, but prepping for and running my first session ever as a DM this weekend (which went swimmingly - the players seems interested in continuing!) took precedence.  I should have a second draft finished and a post ready either tonight or tomorrow night. I'm also possibly working on a super-fun bonus surprise, but that might take a few weeks to see the light of day. In the meantime, see if you can find the huge gaping mistake/plot hole that I inadvertently left in the last few updates! I noticed it about halfway through the first draft of the next update. Rather than going back and editing things, I*think* I've been able to write a workaround into the upcoming chapter. *phew*!


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## Solarious (Nov 15, 2005)

Sounds good, Anti-Sean! How about a recap of the highlights of your own campaign? This -is- the story hour boards, after all.   It'll distract us for long enough for you to finish the next installment of Lament, and we don't have to go and rally up a lynch mob. Everyone wins!


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## Anti-Sean (Nov 16, 2005)

Solarious said:
			
		

> Sounds good, Anti-Sean! How about a recap of the highlights of your own campaign? This -is- the story hour boards, after all.   It'll distract us for long enough for you to finish the next installment of Lament, and we don't have to go and rally up a lynch mob. Everyone wins!




I was thinking about whipping up a story hour based on my campaign, but I'm also holding out a few bonus XP or an extra action point or two in the hopes that one of my players will do it for me, since I'm pretty lazy by default.  I ran them through the Forgotten Forge, and I had a blast! I'm going to put them through the other three published adventures (I own SotLW, and like it quite a lot. I hear that WotVB can be a bit of a railroad, so I'm hoping I'll have enough time to tear it apart and put it back together in a way that I like). I was very worried about one particularly horrid encounter in FF, but the party survived it. Alas, they chewed through the bad guy at the end with little effort - he didn't even get one swing in! Lousy ranged attacks *grumble grumble* The party was as follows:

1 Human (unmarked Orien) Bard from Sharn, unmarked Orien
1 Human (unmarked Deneith) Cleric of the Sovereign Host from Breland
1 Human Soulknife from Thrane
1 Warforged Soulknife
1 Halfling Artificer

They have some fun background hooks - the bard is very socially flexible, and has several, err... "patrons", I suppose we should call them. The party arrived at the first encounter of the adventure on their way to the Sharn Opera House as guests of said patron, a noblewoman who looked for all the world like Jabba the Hutt stuffed into an expensive evening gown. They attended a party at her mansion for most of the night before traveling to the Broken Anvil and continuing with the adventure. I'm anxiously awaiting the next session!

The next update has been second-drafted and read by my wife and should be ready for posting in ohhh, say, a few minutes or so.


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## Anti-Sean (Nov 16, 2005)

Aldren Morathus drummed his fingers on the table in heavy, repetitive bursts as he waited for his ale to arrive. It had been ages since he had last seen the serving girl. Aldren ran his non-drumming hand through his long hair, sighing from his toes as he looked back on the awkward and uncomfortable morning he had had with his new traveling companions. As soon as that ale arrived, things would be _so_ much better...

At last! The serving girl smiled brightly at him as she arrived with his drink, lingering a little longer than required as she leaned in closely, setting the large, frothy mug in front of him. "Let me know if there's anything else I can get you, Sir," she cooed at him with an exaggerated wink as she turned to walk away. His eyes followed her receding form as his hand reached out for the mug of ale, closing around empty air. He turned his attention back to the table in front of him to see the form of Lady ir'Tain settling in to the chair across from him, his ale in her hand.

"Nightwood Ale, is it? How thoughtful of you to order this for me, Aldren. I just hope a lady such as myself can handle such heady fare." Niv raised the mug to her lips and threw it back, emptying it in seconds. She slammed it down on the table in front of Aldren with a grin. "We're on our way to Aundair, though, not Karrnath. We'll need to start blending in with the locals." She turned her head in the direction the serving girl had walked off in and clapped her hands loudly. "Wench! Bring us a bottle of Bluevine, none of the Brelish swill your people tried to pawn off on me in Terminus. And be quick about it, lest I feed you to the wolf!"

Kiva barked happily from under the table.

"I must say, Niv, you seem to have settled into the role of the imperious noblewoman very comfortably." Aldren cocked an eyebrow. "Almost as if it comes naturally to you."

Niv grinned again. "Some old habits die hard, Aldren. I'm not sure how familiar you are with the theatrical community in Sharn. Cassa Faer owns the Art Temple - have you ever seen the shows they put on? Some of the performances there have been incredibly powerful, others have been nothing but pretentious garbage. Either way, Cassa has a deep and abiding love for new theatrical works, as well as for those who create them. A few years ago, Cassa spent the entire summer in her villa outside of Shavalant with her newest playwright plaything. And yet, somehow she was simultaneously in Sharn, overseeing that season's productions and making appearances at the finest parties in the city. How do you suppose she did that?"

"Interesting. So what made you trade in the life of Sharn's high society to run errands for a hobgoblin?"

"Have you ever been to one of those parties, Aldren? Sure, the food and drink are without peer, but the conversation is so stultifyingly, mind-numbingly _boring_. All the jockeying for position and backbiting... far more trouble than it's worth. Maybe I just wanted to get out of Sharn for a while. Perhaps I killed someone important, or stole something valuable. Maybe I'm running off to meet a forbidden lover." Niv leaned forward, gazing into Aldren's eyes. "Or maybe I've fallen in love with you, and I'm following you wherever you go."

Aldren's face turned bright red, as he stuttered and stammered.

Niv leaned back in her chair with a hearty laugh. "Don't flatter yourself there, soldier boy! That's what some of us like to call a 'joke'. I'm assuming you've heard of those before? Or perhaps I really _am_ in love with you, but I'm just trying to keep you on your toes?"

The serving girl arrived with a bottle of Bluevine wine and two glasses. "Finally," Niv exclaimed in an exasperated manner, "I was afraid I'd die of thirst." She looked Aldrn straight in the eye as she continued. "By the way, lass, your flirtations with my retainer here will get you nowhere. He's a eunuch like the rest of my servants." The girls eyes widened in shock, and she hurried away, trying to stifle a laugh as Aldren's face screwed up with shock and anger.

Niv's smile grew even broader as she poured the wine into their glasses. "My my, Aldren, your face is almost as red as the pendant on your chest! I haven't embarrassed you by any chance now, have I?"

"Are you _always_ this maddening with everyone? Or have you singled me out for your abuse?" Aldren raised his glass of wine muttering into it, "I can see why your pet warforged exploded on you back there."

Niv raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps i'm just immersing myself in the role I'm playing here. Perhaps I act this way to keep people off their guard and lower their defenses, or to keep them at a distance. Perhaps I'm just normally an instigator by nature. Finding out which one is the truth, or which ones are the truth, should be half the fun for you! As far as Autumn goes, he and I had a difference of opinion, and an argument resulted. That happens between friends from time to time. If you had any of your own, you might know that. He's most likely sulking now, but he'll be fine in a little while." She leaned forward, her finger jutting towards Aldren's face. "If you call him my pet ever again, though, I'll be feeding you to the wolf instead of that serving girl of yours!"

Kiva barked again from under the table.

Niv settled back into her seat, taking a sip of wine. "Having said that, I'd like to turn your own question back around at you. What lead _you_ to give up the soldiering life and become an errand boy for a hobgoblin? That seems like a long way for one of Rekkenmark's finest to fall."

"Well, there's a bit of a story behind that."

"We have plenty of time before we reach our destination."

"And I'd much rather keep some of the details to myself, at least for now."

"Naturally." Niv blinked and flashed an innocent smile.

"Alright then. I suppose I should start from the beginning." Aldren sighed heavily, clearing his throat. "I told you yesterday that my armor has been handed down from generation to generation. My sword is a family heirloom as well. My family used to have an even more important birthright. The Morathus line was once known as ir'Morathus. We were merely minor nobility, but able to trace our lineage back as far as some of the major noble houses. When I was a young boy, Regent Moranna of Karrnath outlawed the Order of the Emerald Claw. My grandfather, who I was named after, was a brilliant and famous general in the Karrnathi army. Unfortunately, he was also involved with the Emerald Claw. He had joined the Order in the belief that it was simply a patriotic organization serving the King and Country. He claimed to be unaware of their terrorist activities, and surrendered himself to the warlords who had remained loyal to the Regent." Aldren refilled his glass of wine, his eyes heavy and dark. "He was executed on my fourth birthday, along with three of my uncles who had also joined the Order. My father was his youngest son, and no soldier; he had been left in charge of the family estate while his brothers had gone off to war with their father. Our family was stripped of our noble title and our ancestral home. Taking pity on him, a distant cousin made my father his majordomo, saving us from destitution. Were it not for that act of kindness, my father may have been forced to sell the armor and sword given to him after my grandfather's execution. Giving up such heirlooms would surely have killed him."

"I spent most of my time with the children of the other servants as I was growing up, kept separate from the noble family. I grew into a strong and healthy young man, and spent most of my time working in the stables as soon as I was old enough. When I began to show some promise, the noble made me his squire, much to my father's chagrin."

Niv nodded. "He didn't want his son going off to war like the father and brothers he lost."

"Indeed. I was his only child; the last of a once noble line. All he wanted for me was to live a long and happy life. He wasn't as concerned with ancestry and lineage and the burdens that they entail as some others were."

"Some others...like your mother? I notice you haven't mentioned her yet."

Aldren emptied his glass of wine, its delicate flavor seemingly lost on him at the moment. "As I said, I'd much rather keep some of the details to myself. As much as it pained my father to witness, I excelled under my lord's tutelage. He often told me that I resembled his father more and more with each day. My lord nominated me for entry into the Rekkenmark Academy, and paid for me to attend it. There were always whispers about my lineage and my grandfather there, but I assume that my lord had called in a few favors. Also, at that stage in the war, Karrnath could not easily afford to turn aside promising young soldiers or officers, no matter their background. Rekkenmark changed me forever. I had grown up with my head full of tales of brave knights and soldiers performing great deeds. In addition to swordplay, my training as a squire had taught me right from wrong and how to conduct myself as befits a knight of Karrnath. It was Rekkenmark, however, that took those ideas and that foundation and forged me into the man I wanted to be."

"After graduating from the academy, I saw action in Cyre, Thrane and Aundair, scoring a number of decisive victories against our foes. My sword was a righteous, holy fury. Wave after wave of Karrnath's enemies fell before me. The might and wisdom of my forebears coursed through my blood, and I became a vessel for their holy wrath as I served my king and my country with glory and valor. And then..." Aldren cleared his throat roughly, "then I lost my taste for it." He smiled wanly. "But that is a story for another time. I had risen to the rank of Captain, but I resigned my commission and walked away. I wandered for a long while, waking up one morning in Sharn with my face in a mug of ale to find out that the Last War had finally ended. I took up a number of mercenary contracts over time; an escort mission here, guarding a warehouse there, and so on, always making sure I had just enough to keep my mug full. I was just about out of coin entirely when one of Meksoor's agents approached me with this job. Since I didn't have many other prospects presenting themselves to me at the time, it seemed like as good an idea as any." Aldren spread his hands widely. "It seems that I have run out of both wine to drink and a story to tell."

"Interesting. Perhaps I was too quick to judge you, Aldren. There might actually be a heart underneath that armor." Niv stood up and stretched as Kiva climbed out from under the table to her side. "I think I've given Autumn enough time to mope. I'm going to see how he's doing. You can finish this." Niv paused as she passed by Aldren, leaning across him to set her wine glass in front of him. He felt the warmth of her body as she brushed close by, and then the cold sensation of a dagger point pressed into the back of his neck. "I've just got one question for you, Aldren. Meksoor met with Autumn and a male changeling named Mok. When we met, you greeted us as Autumn and Niv. I'm dying to know why. Or, quite possibly, you are, depending on what I think of your answer."


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## Solarious (Nov 16, 2005)

Anti-Sean said:
			
		

> "I've just got one question for you, Aldren. Meksoor met with Autumn and a male changeling named Mok. When we met, you greeted us as Autumn and Niv. I'm dying to know why. Or, quite possibly, you are, depending on what I think of your answer."



A great cliffhanger to end the 'action' with! It appears that the Emerald Claw is acting even earlier that we thought. 

So you're waiting for your players to do your dirty work for you? That's mean, nasty, and downright lazy. I like your style.  Maybe I'll get to see screaming and suffering sooner that I anticipated.


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## Anti-Sean (Dec 15, 2005)

I should have an update posted tonight or tomorrow. The holidays have been pretty busy (and I had my second DMing session this past weekend - woo!) and some of the dialogue in this latest update is giving me fits, but I should conquer it soon. Thanks for your patience!

(shameless post to keep from falling off of the bottom of the third page)


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## Funeris (Dec 16, 2005)

Sorry I haven't been around to bump it, Anti-Sean.  But I've got the holiday busies as well.  

_eagerly awaiting the update..._


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## Solarious (Dec 16, 2005)

I thought it would have been both rude and embarrassing to double-post to keep this storyhour afloat.  But now things are looking better.  Now, I want to see where the _Grease_ spell Aldren's going to pull out to escape this barrel of pickle juice.


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## Anti-Sean (Dec 21, 2005)

Aldren swallowed the lump in his throat. "Meksoor had someone watching Professor Saeral's office. You were followed after you took the bid for this job, and information about you was collected. She should not have shared your real name with me. I'm not cut out for this sort of subtlety."

Niv's sneer was audible in her otherwise flat response. "That much is obvious. What else did she find out, aside from my name?"

"Not much. The names of some of your recent associates, and some of the work you've done. There was also an incident with House Lyrandar that she referenced, but didn't say much about."

Niv tried to stifle a curse under her breath. "And what about Autumn?"

"She wasn't able to find out anything about him - he's a blank slate, as far as she knows. Or as far as she told me, anyways. She hired me a few days before your meeting with her. I'm just as expendable as you are."

"Lovely. As if I didn't have enough to worry about her before... Alright, soldier boy, I suppose your answer is good enough." Niv sheathed her dagger somewhere within her dress. "I'll be keeping both eyes on you for the remainder of this journey. And see to it that you don't mention any of this to Autumn. Let's go, Kiva."

Aldren let himself sink back into his chair as Niv and Kiva left the dining cart. He wiped the sweat from his brow and ordered another mug of ale which he'd hopefully get the chance to drink. This was going to be a very long trip...

***

_Lharvion 13, 998 YK
Aundair
Passage_

The lightning rail pulled into the station in Passage just past the second bell. Most of the passengers lay asleep in their bunks, bound for destinations beyond, such as Fairhaven and Thaliost. The departing passengers staggered bleary-eyed from the lightning rail station, seeking the comfort of a warm bed in a nearby inn. Autumn, Niv, Kiva and Aldren found themselves outside of just such an inn; the Dragonhawk Arms. Autumn's voice reflected his concern. "Niv, are you sure about this? There are many other inns we could stay at that would cost us far less."

"We'll be fine, Autumn, it's just for one night. The bunks on the lightning rail weren't exactly the most comfortable sleeping arrangements I've been in before. You should try sleeping in one next time and see how you like it."

"I tried sleeping once - I wasn't very successful. I don't see why you bother with it, there are so many other things to do with all that time."

"Well, my dear warforged, I'm sure you'll be able to entertain yourself somehow. As for me, I'm going to collapse into one of their lovely thick feather beds. Wake me up in about a week."

"I'd be glad to, but the caravan we're traveling with leaves at noon. I don't think the innkeeper will take kindly to us taking his bed along with us. Also, think of the poor horses who would have to drag the bed behind them the whole way." He ignored the rude hand gesture Niv responded with.

If expense is such a concern," Aldren interjected, "we can just get one room for Niv. I've had enough rest for the night. I can wait until we've joined the caravan to sleep."

"Excellent. It will be nice to have someone to talk to. Listening to Niv snore can become rather boring after a while."

"Very well, Autumn. If you keep my mug filled, I'll do my best to hold up my end of the conversation."

As they made their way towards the door, the quiet tranquility of Passage was interrupted by a loud outburst.

*"I do not snore!!!"*

***

Aldren raised his mug of Nightwood Ale to toast Autumn. "Thank you kindly, good sir, for this fine beverage. After a long drink, he added, "It seems that you and Niv are getting along better than you were the other day."

Autumn shrugged. "We had a disagreement. Niv can be somewhat impatient at times, and quick to anger, but she usually gets over it pretty quickly. This is the first time she's really been out of Sharn, so it's understandable that she's a bit more on edge than usual. This job is also very important to her. I would expect a few more outbursts from her as time goes by, but don't be too put off by them." Autumn arched an iron eyebrow and leaned in closer. "It's when she gets quiet that you should be nervous."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aldren smiled. "It's obvious that you aren't from Sharn originally. What brought you there, and what brings you on this little expedition, if you don't mind my asking?"

"That's a fair question. I'm still not exactly sure why I went to Sharn, to be honest. My mentor had seen signs that told me I should go there. I'm not one to dispute her wisdom, but I can't say that I found much there that makes any sense. Yet. Perhaps all the signs are there, but I haven't had the time or the grace to recognize them yet. As for why I'm here now, I'm mostly following Niv until any other signs reveal themselves to me."

Aldren waved a hand dismissively. "I've never been one for signs myself. I've always trusted in my heart and my head to guide me. Then again, I happen to have both of them. If I were lacking in one of them, perhaps I'd rely on signs to lead me around as well."

A long, low sigh rumbled out from deep within Autumn. "Ah, there it is again; the stink of prejudice. It's been a few hours since I caught a whiff of it from anyone, I was almost beginning to miss it."

Aldren backpedaled. "Oh, I meant no offense, Autumn..."

"Naturally. You should take care with your assumptions and expectations, Aldren. Many who would assume the worst of me because of who I am would think the same of you because of that pendant on your chest."

"Autumn please, allow me to explain, if I can. You're obviously a thinking and deeply caring being. But given my upbringing, the faith I was raised in, it can be difficult at time for me to think of you as truly alive, as more than an unnatural automaton, despite what I'm able to see."

"Because I lack flesh and blood? I am made of many things, Aldren. Stone and steel. Iron and obsidian. Wood and leather. Each of these things a part of Eberron herself, or of her children. Allegedly, dragonshards from the depths of Khyber powered the Creation Forges. Magic, granted to us by Siberys, pulsed through the Forge and ignited the spark of life that lay dormant within my form." Autumn counted off each of the Great Dragons on the thumb and fingers of his hand as he named them. "So you see, Aldren, I am a child of all three of the Progenitor Wyrms. One could argue that in a sense, I am more a child of this world than a child of Eberron such as yourself is. That is, if you care to measure such things against each other and weigh their worth, which I do not."

"It's not the lack of flesh that troubles me, Autumn. My flesh is just that; flesh, and nothing more. My blood, however... it is my blood which gives me life! The blood that courses through my veins is a gift from my parents. Their blood and their faith in its powers was a gift from their parents, and so on and so on, into antiquity. My family have long been believers in the Blood of Vol." Aldren's eyes grew distant, repeating stories memorized long before. "The traditions that their faith grew from began shortly after the elves reached Aerenal. After the magic of the giants was lost when Xen'Drik was shattered, House Vol were the first to unlock the secrets of blood. They saw the power within it, and kept a meticulous record of which families grew more powerful as strong blood mixed with strong blood, and which grew weaker as their blood was diluted. In my family, as well as in the families of many others of the Blood, marriages were arranged to cull out thinner-blooded lines, and strengthen others."

"This fascination with blood is strange to me as well." Autumn shook his head, as if to shrug something off of himself. "Blood is certainly a part of life, but it isn't the beginning and the end of it. Plants do not have blood, and yet they are just as alive as you and I are. There are many trees that I have spoken with that would claim that their lives are just fine without any blood at all."

Nightwood Ale sprayed from Aldren's mouth. "Plants? You can't be serious! Are you honestly comparing sap to blood?", he spat out incredulously. "Life and death and struggle and the power to exert my will all boil and churn within my blood. _Life and death_, Autumn! A shifter owes his feral nature to the bestial blood inherited from his ancestors. Niv's sorcerous talents are a result of the power of her blood. It is the key to life and death and everything in between." Aldren took another long drink of ale, trying to read the warforged's expression. "Do you know why mortals die, Autumn? The so-called Sovereign Lords that so many see fit to revere played the cruelest trick of all; they bestowed mortality upon us. They kept the secrets of eternal life for themselves! But those of the Blood, Autumn, those of the Blood have learned those secrets. Those whose blood is truly strong can unlock the power, the divinity within their blood, beat the wretched Sovereigns at their own game, and transcend death itself!"

It was now Autumn's turn to appear incredulous. "Why should death be transcended, Aldren? Do you fear it so much? It is part of the natural order of things. Certainly, one shouldn't seek to hasten their own death, but finding your resting place after a long, fulfilling life should be welcomed warmly. The priests of the Sovereigns will tell you that the soul passes on to rest with their Lords after the vast gray of Dolurrh. The Church of the Silver Flame holds that its devout followers become one with their Flame after death. I can't say whether either of those beliefs are right or wrong. I myself have seen souls reborn after dying. Undeath is abhorrent to me; you're removing yourself from the cycle of nature. There can be no rebirth without death."

"That may suffice for others," Aldren scoffed, "but I would take the certainty of immortality over the chance of rebirth any day. Or night, as the case may be."

"One thing seems odd to me, Aldren; you speak of your faith in a very detached manner. Why is that?"

Aldren sighed. "It is deliberate, Autumn. I mentioned the faith I was raised in. The Blood of Vol was much more than an empty recitation of words to me, even from a very early age. I could feel my blood singing within me. At times, it sang so loudly that I could _hear_ it. Through my faith, I was given strength and power, and was able to accomplish things most men could only dream of. Sadly, that was some time ago. You see before you now a man without faith. I remember my teachings, but they're just empty words and ritual to me now. And how that came to be? Well, we have yet to raise our swords together in battle. I can't see myself telling that story to anyone I hadn't done so with beforehand." Aldren forced a weak smile. "We'll also need a few more flagons of ale than we have now."

"Fair enough," Autumn nodded. If you'll excuse me, Aldren, I'd like to stretch my legs a bit and take in the night air for a while. I'll see you in the morning."

Aldren finished his ale as Autumn made his way for the door. As soon as the warforged was out of sight, he pulled out a quill, some ink and a parchment, and began to write...


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## Anti-Sean (May 10, 2006)

_Lharvion 24, 998 YK
Aundair
near Rhenshia_

The wide road from Passage to Lathleer had felt the tread of thousands upon thousands of feet in its time. House Orien caravans had made the trek back and forth along its path since before the founding of the kingdom of Galifar. It was a hot, muggy afternoon that saw one of these caravans slowly plodding towards Lathleer, carrying with in an assortment of passengers: thrifty merchants and tinkers anxious to sell their wares, reliable couriers delivering news and communications, and stoic adventurers searching for an ancient treasure.

"By the Flame, can this blasted caravan move any slower? It feels like it's been over four months since we left Passage!" Niv slumped forward in her saddle, cursing like a sailor fresh into port, in stark contrast to the face and dress of a noblewoman she wore.

Aldren glowered at her from atop his horse, frustration mounting after a long, slow day of riding. "If you ask me, your complaints are doing more to slow the passage of time than any foul weather or poor road conditions could hope to."

Niv spun about on her companion. "No, I most certainly did not ask you, Morathus, that was a rhetorical question. Perhaps you'd know what that meant if you didn't spend so much time gazing at the reflection in your armor."

"Aren't ladies of high society supposed to behave in a quiet, demure fashion, Lady ir'Tain? This trip would be much more pleasant to endure if you could perform your role properly." Aldren gritted his teeth and stared forward, determined to avoid Niv's white-hot glare.

"Oh, and I suppose you think you can put this lady in her place, Captain Obviously Covering For His Inadequacies?" She gestured in the direction of the greatsword strapped across his back. "I doubt it, since I've seen you reach for a mug of ale far more often than I've seen you reach for that oversized surrogate --"

"That's enough out of both of you!" Her snide comment was cut short by Autumn's booming voice as he stepped between their horses. "Yes, the caravan moves slowly; that's what caravans _do_. This was the safest and easiest way for us to travel for this leg of our journey. We're only a week and a half into this trip - we have a week or two more ahead of us before we break off from the caravan." He absentmindedly patted the flank & stroked the neck of Niv's horse as he chided his two companions. "I thought that you two were adults? If you can't conduct yourselves properly in each other's presence, perhaps we should just part company now? I'm sure it will take longer for Meksoor to send assassins after the three of us if we abandon this mission and go our separate ways than if we stayed together. Honestly, I expecte-"

_Aundair! Aundair! I pledge my sword to thee_

Autumn stopped in mid-lecture, his head cocked sideways. "Do you hear that?"

Aldren shrugged noncomittally, while Niv concentrated. "Sounds like someone singing," she offered. "Either that, or a cat being tortured." She listened a few moments longer. "Or someone torturing a cat by singing."

Autumn listened intently, his emerald eyes flaring with recognition and fury. "Not that song! Not again! No!" He turned on his heel and marched briskly towards the head of the caravan in the direction of the song.

Aldren's puzzled expression spoke volumes, but he asked the question anyway. "What is he on about now?"

***

Erben Tullier half walked, half skipped alongside the wagon he was supposed to be watching. He daydreamed idly, thumping the side of the wagon with a stick he had found, barely keeping time with the song his awkward young voice attempted to sing.

_Dragonhawk majestic circ'ling through the skies above
Aundair! Aundair! I will defend this land I love

Dragonhawk triumphant wheeling through the skies so free
Aundair! Aundair! I pledge my sword to thee
Aundair! Aundair! I pledge my sword to thee_

Lost in his reverie, he was completely taken aback when an enraged warforged grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. The face of steel was mere inches away from his own, green jewel-like eyes threatening to burn right through him.

"You! Boy! Exactly what do you think you are doing, singing that song?"

Erben stuttered and stammered, trying to stop his heart from beating too quickly. "S-s-s-sir? That's the Q-Q-Queen's Anthem, that's Aundair's battle march."

"Yes, I'm all too familiar with that song." Autumn pointed towards the livery on a nearby wagon. "However, this is a House Orien caravan, not an Aundairian caravan."

Erben straightened up, seeming to take affront. "A caravan that's traveling through Aundair, being guided by Aundairians like myself."

"And is this caravan marching towards battle? I seem to recall that the war is over. What use is a war song here and now?"

The boy's face reddened. "I like the way it sounds. It reminds me of why we fought the war, and makes me proud of my country. Aundair's enemies are jealous of her glory, they could march on us any day! We need to be ready to defend ourselves!"

"So if a column of Thrane Knights were to attack this caravan, you'd do what, fight them off with that stick in your hand?" Autumn scoffed. "As for the 'glory' of Aundair, I seem to recall that losing the Eldeen Reaches cut that glory to a third of its size."

It was Erben's turn to scoff. "As if those filthy Reachers-" 

One of Autumn's thick metal fingers wagged in front of Erben's face. "Mind your tongue, boy, you're speaking to a 'filthy Reacher' right now."

The boy stopped speaking, his eyes narrowing as he pondered this new information.

Autumn let the silence hang for a moment. "How many summers have you seen, boy?"

"Fourteen, sir, and I'm no boy. My Uncle Durys is the wagonmaster of this caravan, he's told me I'm the man of my family ever since I was eight, when my father died in the war."

"Ah, a soldier for Aundair, no doubt?"

"Aye sir." The boy puffed himself up with pride. "He died trying to retake Thaliost from those cursed Thrane devils. My father is a hero."

"Retaking Thaliost? Do you have any idea how many times that city changed hands during the war?" Autumn sighed. "If you hope to see very many more summers, you'll give up any romantic notions you have about war. There is no glory in it, and no honor. There is nothing but pain and death and destruction. People will tell you stories about courage and bravery and heroism; what they won't tell you about are the sight and smell of a battlefield littered with fresh corpses; of men and women screaming for death as they writhe in agony; of how it feels to watch the light leave someone's eyes when you slip a sword in between their ribs." The warforged punctuated this last comment with a rough stabbing motion towards Erben's side, his voice rising steadily as he continue, ignoring the stares of the surrounding caravan passengers.

"Some would say that those who lie dead at the end of a battle are better off than those who live; at least their mind is not filled with scenes of the carnage that they took part in forever afterwards. They aren't cosumed with wondering why their life was spared, and what the people that they killed would be doing right now if their lives hadn't been taken from them. There are no heroes in war, boy; your father did not die a hero's death. He was a pawn and a fool who threw his life away as part of the petty squabblings of a handful of petty princes, and his death meant nothing at all."

Erben attempted to keep his composure, but his chin quivered as tears began to stream down his face. What was left of his dignity was spared by a figure calling out to the warforged from several paces behind.

"Autumn! A word with you, if you please!" Aldren's voice was sharp and filled with urgency under a forced tone of politeness. Autumn turned away from the boy and walked slowly towards his comrade.

Aldren leaned in closely as the warforged neared him, keeping his voice low. "By the Blood, Autumn, what in Khyber are you on about? The boy meant no harm, he was simply singing a song!"

"I won't listen to that song again, Aldren. The number of times I heard it during the war, the countless times I've heard it in my own head since then, I simply *won't* hear it sung around me!" Autumn apparently felt no need for quiet or confidentiality.

"Autumn, you're not making any sense. I've heard you singing several war songs yourself before."

"Not that one! I can assure you that you've *never* heard me sing that song."

Aldren sighed. "Very well, but my point is that you don't need to treat the boy so poorly over it. How was he to know? I don't recall you handing out a list of approved traveling songs before we left Passage. Your behavior is inexcusable."

The warforged pointed back towards the boy. "He needs to understand what he's singing about, Aldren! Surely you would agree!"

Aldren raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I know he does... I know. Sadly, it's very probable that he will find out someday. I admire the fact that you want to help him to avoid learning about it firsthand, but the way you're going about it, Autumn..."

"What?" Autumn raised a steel eyebrow.

"Well, I don't quite know how to say it without being abrupt, but you had no right to attack his father like that."

"What did I tell the boy other than the truth?" The warforged raised his hands to the heavens in confusion. "His father was most likely some peasant conscripted for no other purpose than to serve as fodder for war."

"Yes, Autumn, you and I both know that, but you're not listening to me." Aldren rain a hand through his hair, frustrated at his companion's lack of understanding. "I don't expect you to understand this easily, given who and what you are."

Autumn's voice returned to its usual volume, but went utterly cold. "And what do you mean by that, Morathus?"

Aldren sighed heavily. "You've been a warrior, Autumn, but you've never been a son. You've never had a father. That boy lost his father at a young age. Whether his father was a conscript or a general, he was everything in that boys eyes. He barely knew his father, and in the years since he lost him, he's been holding on to this noble image of his father bravely giving his life in the defense of his people and his homeland." The Karrn's eyes grew soft. "No matter who he is or what he does, every father is a hero to his son, Autumn, at least for a while. You have no right to take that away from him. No right at all."

The warforged's eyes grew bright once more with fury. "And you have no right to tell me what I know about people and what I do not, Morathus! Nor the right to tell me what rights I may or may not have. Not you, nor any other human!" He stalked off past the caravan, calling over his shoulder. "If you need me, I'll be joining Kiva scouting ahead of the caravan!"

***

A few hours later, just as the sky was beginning to darken with the promise of twilight, Niv and Aldren's attempts to avoid conversation with one another were interrupted by the sight of Autumn bursting through the woods along the path ahead of the caravan, running at full speed.

"Ambush! Ambush ahead! To arms! To arms! Niv, Aldren, I need you up here *now*!"


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## Anti-Sean (May 10, 2006)

well, one benefit of going four months or so without updating this story hour is that I didn't lose much of it during this weeks crash.  I hadn't backed up the entire thread recently, so we're missing a few user comments. One interesting note is the thread view count; it was at 1,301 right before the crash, and at 775 after the 12/29/05 restoration. That means that the thread had almost as many reads while I wasn't updating it as it had while I was actively posting! 

I've got half of a rough draft of the next post written, but I have a D&D game to run this weekend, so I probably won't have any more of the story posted here until next week.

As always, thanks for reading!


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## Shieldhaven (May 10, 2006)

I've read through this Story Hour over the course of the day.  Great stuff!  I look forward to more.  Autumn does seem to be getting easier to set off as the story goes along.  I'm still looking forward to the story "catching up to" the first entry.

Haven


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## Sidekick (Feb 23, 2007)

*Casts thread ressurection*

So Anti-Sean any chance of you finishing off this story for us readers at home?

I must say I think it's excellently written and a good read. So let's see how it finishes aye?


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## Anti-Sean (Feb 27, 2007)

hmm... I feel an odd sense of... detachment... after being brought back through Sidekick's fell magicks. A bit lighter, too. Hey, I can see my ribs again!

I'm sorry to say that,at best, this story is on indefinite hiatus. My workload has increased dramatically since this fall, and I've been taking classes at night as well. I also try to see my wife occasionally when work and school allow it.  My already taxed mind is currently being pummeled into submission by the Latin language; we'll be adding the subjunctive mood to our courseload either tonight or next week, and I fear that I will finally buckle completely under its burden.

If it's any consolation, I haven't had time for my D&D session in several months either, so I'm in the habit of letting everyone down these days - anyone who was reading this story wasn't singled out, I can assure you. 

I've got the entire story arc plotted out in my head, less a few specific details here and there. (note to Shieldhaven; if it pans out the way I think it will/would, the first chapter is roughly 1/2 to 2/3rds of the way through the story). I hope that some day I'll be able to make the time to hammer it all out in a format that others can read, but right now, I regret to say that I don't know when that will be. Sorry.


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## Need_A_Life (Nov 5, 2007)

I miss this thing updating...

also:

BUMP!


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