# Adventure in the Open Skies: The Liralen Irregulars (Eberron, Updated 5/10)



## PhoenixAsh

Carly lopes along the back streets of Stormhome. Crouching among garbage bins, she moves with animalistic grace through the back alleys of the island city, most of which boasts lavish inns with grandiose entertainment ready to please any and all of the senses. A bastion of paradise in the midst of an ocean of near constant storms, Stormhome brims with the rich and idle, a vacation spot and refuge of wealthy nobles and merchants from all over Khorvaire.

But Carly is not afforded the opportunity to trim the fat from Stormhome’s elite. The young shifter’s prey is the coin of the common laborer, her hunting grounds the hole-in-the-wall hideaways and dark taverns where laborers and servants come to unwind. Her keen ears pick up conversation spilling out of the doors of The Brass Covey. Experience has taught her that people who are engrossed in talking are people who are not paying attention to their purses.

Carly slips through the kitchen entrance of the tavern. The chef, lost in his own concerns, doesn’t notice the shifter as she moves on all fours behind the preparation tables. Bright light from the chef’s lantern lights her face only for a moment, drowning in the long purple bruise across her temple.

Joseph is most violent when he is worried. Since she had covered for Errol the day he disappeared, it is only natural that she felt the brunt of that worry. Carly swallows the lump that rises in her throat. She misses Errol.  Joseph said he was probably dead by now. Killed by someone, or worse, taken by the Fury himself for running off.

Joseph had worked them all mercilessly the last couple of days; demanding that they bring in Errol’s share for collection day. But collection day had come and gone and no collector had arrived at the back of the dingy bakery, their home and hideout. Joseph’s temper grew, and Carly took to the streets to stay clear of his path.

The dining area of the tavern is filled to capacity. Dimly lit and smoke-filled, Carly works her small frame unnoticed between a patron’s feet. Crouching next to the table support she examines the footwear of those around the table, trying to determine whose purse strings she should risk cutting. Conversation drifts down around her and she listens, eager to bring home news that might interest Joseph and divert his worries and his fist.

“And then he said, ‘Eyls in Sorre, eels in a special thick sauce. The recipe has several secret ingredients that I refuse to reveal lest someone seize this fine dish that I alone can make.’  I’m not kidding, just like that!”

Several of the dockworkers around the table chortle, glancing back to the kitchen as their server impersonates the Covey’s head chef.  He leans in, grinning knowingly as he pitches his voice low for best effect with his rapt audience.  

“Then he serves the House Special, you know what I mean.”  

There are several winces, knowing nods and shaking heads, and the server waits for them all to lean in closer still before continuing. 

“So the judges all take a bite, and I swear half of them passed out in their chairs and the other half ran for the privies!  It nearly came to blows over who would get there first, the Host as my witness!”  But the dockworkers are no longer listening, banging their fists on the table and laughing loudly at the chef’s expense.  Carly’s alarmed squeak at the rancor is hidden by the sound of a loud crash from the kitchen and an angry face yelling out from the doorway.

“Chard!  You useless… miserable…” The chef fumbles for words before reasserting his face into a scowl.  “I have a whole crate of onions that will not peel themselves, get on it!”

“Yes Chef Mewldon!” answers the server, wincing at the prospect of onion duty but knowing his tips tonight will be very good.  Picking up his tray he leans down to speak before leaving the table,  “That isn’t the half of it, from what I hear, they took on a warforged cook!  Have you ever heard of that?”  Animated discussion begins anew on the merits of this bit of news as the server goes off to attend to his far less favorable duties.

Carly’s knife, if the battered piece of metal could be called such, whisks up with precision. In a deft movement she severs the strings and ties the ends to the chair. The missing coin-purse goes unnoticed as its owner loudly argues that a warforged can’t possibly be a cook because they can’t taste a thing.

Carly edges out from under the table and surveys the room. A loud voice from a corner booth catches her attention and she moves towards the drunken and angry source. Ale splashes on her face as a halfling in the booth pounds his mug against the table. Carly’s eyes sting, but she manages to make it to the dark space under the table. Crouching in an awkward position between the feet of the occupants, she pauses to wipe her face with the ragged edge of a shirtsleeve.

The halfling nurses his fourth ale and complains to a bored looking pair of dwarves across from him.  “I tell you it wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair at all!  Why, that big old half-giant couldn’t even push that dumb crate on his own, how’d they expect me to?”

“Eh, you said they tried out a half-giant for a deckhand?”  One of the pair leans forward, a clerk at one of the local House Kundarak banks, suddenly interested in the halfling’s rambling drivel.”

“I hear one of them was able to move those huge crates, wasn’t it…?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah… some orc named Crash or Bash or something, but they didn’t take him for some reason, I think they took that half-giant and some others.  But see, see, I could have done better peeling potatoes if they would just have let me…’ Both men groan inwardly as the halfling continues his diatribe on the ills of House Lyrandar’s hiring practices. 

The halfling, an easy target, looks to have a light purse. Carly does not bother the bankers. While better dressed than the dockworkers, they always have a tight hold on their money, and the dwarves in particular are known for having nasty surprises for potential pickpockets. Just before she moves on, a spark of light catches her eye: the buckles on one of the banker’s boots!  Blackened and tarnished, one sports a scratch that gleams silver. Carly carefully cuts away the fastenings on both boots.  The man will not notice it until he stands to leave, if she is lucky.

Carly slips behind the row of cloaks hanging on the wall next to the bar. Her deft hands work through the garments; searching pockets, as she listens to banter across the mug-strewn counter.

A couple and one of the bartenders are in the middle of a debate.  “I was there at Castle Lyrandar, they needed some extra servers for the banquet, I tell you Ruel’s act was the best!  You wouldn’t think a wizard could dance like that, and his magic!  Why, the whole room thought he had plucked dryads from the forest to dance for him, it was amazing!  The bard was good, but she couldn’t hold a candle to him.”

“Well I saw the bard at that benefit concert, we both did, and Kashandi was by far the better performer then… isn’t that right dear?”  The woman looks up at the bartender; trying to get the tired looking man on her arm to support her argument.

“Hmm… well I’m sure they are both very talented, but I’m more interested in the theft from the Vidari’s.”  The husband, still dressed in the livery of one of House Medani’s sentinels, leans in at a curious glance from the bartender.  
“Its not supposed to be common knowledge, but the proceeds from the Vidari’s benefit concert, you know, that are supposed to go to building an orphanage, were stolen.  We haven’t been able to find out who did it, but I hear the Vidari’s ‘enforcer’ is supposed to be on the passenger list for the Liralen now.  Me, I think he’s the one who took the gold in the first place. It’s awful convenient for him to be leaving now, if you know what I mean.”

Carly’s breath catches, these people have been to Castle Lyrandar!  Perhaps they have the coin to reflect such status. She measures up the couple, and quickly realizes the risks are far too great. A Medani sentinel and his wife and there is little in the way of cover by the bar.  Carly discards the idea and scampers out into the night. 

She will try other spots before dawn. The gossip at the Brass Covey is centered on what most of Stormhome has been fixated upon – the airship Liralen – who made it on as crew, who the passengers are on the maiden voyage, and the controversies and politics that surrounds the ship like a woven shroud.  It would have no interest to Joseph.  She turns down a dark alley in search of comments more in tune with the life she knows. The darker taverns are more dangerous, but Carly does not want to go home and lie next to Errol’s empty pallet.

As she passes the dock where the Liralen is moored, she catches the scuffle of footsteps and faint voices.  Curious, she peers through a crack in the fence surrounding the great airship.  It is just some of the crew loading crates into the cargo hold, but the sudden sound of triggered _Alarm _ spells sends her struck back as if a scorching hot iron touched her.  Panicked, Carly looks back and forth down the alley and shoots off the way she came in search of the nearest cover from what is she sure will be hordes of Lyrandar guards after her.

But it is not the young shifter’s curiosity that triggers the _Alarm _ and shatters the peaceful night…


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## Herremann the Wise

Hi PhoenixAsh,

I was doing a cruise of the boards and saw a new story hour and so here I am - I always like new stories. In this one, you seem to have captured a good bit of the flavour of Eberron. Our group's considering an Eberron campaign in the future so I've been having a bit of a read of such things.
I think I like where this one is about to go - based on the title. Good stuff - you provide a good feel for what's happening - so keep it coming and don't be a stranger.

Best Regards
Herremann the Wise


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## Micah

Spoiler?

I'll try and post a few Dundjinni maps when appropriate.


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #2: In Which the Party is Hard at Work*

Elisa shifts restlessly as she watches the half-dozen crew still working to load cargo and supplies aboard the Liralen.  Clutching her greatsword resting against her shoulder and fighting the gradual creep of fatigue, she wishes for the hundredth time that she had been selected for dayshift guard duty.  Adjusting to life as a night owl and sleeping during the daytime has been a supreme effort for her, and she still has trouble sleeping when the sun is shining.  Stiffling a yawn, she peers up towards the passenger cabins, where two portholes are lit, one by the Liralen’s steward, the other by one of her entertainers.

Dox is the oddest changling she has ever met.  Most of them keep their true self hidden and are bent on thievery, but Dox openly revealed his nature the second they were introduced.  Boldly, he proclaimed that House Lyrandar had taken him on because, ‘With me, they can have a new steward every night!’  Maybe she should be more suspicious of him, but his open manner is very disarming, and it is hard to believe he is aboard ship to cause trouble.  Maybe that is the exact impression he intends to give.

Ruel is the first wizard she has come to know well, and not at all as stuffy as other wizards she has met, though he certainly is just as full of himself as the rest.  He competes with Kashandi in all things, from performance to magic to friendships among the crew.  She suspects that is why he is here tonight instead of nose-deep in his spellshards. 

“I sampled his dishes and my own, I am certain mine had greater variety and quality of flavor, seasoning and succulence.  I do not see how they could have selected him as head chef over me, when all he prepared was meat.”

The warforged cook, Fortunato, unwilling to let his cooking implements be loaded without his supervision is also present tonight.  Elisa cracks a smile as Alexandre, one of the other deckhands, rolls his eyes.

“Sometimes there is nothing quite like a good shank of meat though!  Haven’t you ever… no of course you haven’t.”  Alexandre shakes his head picks up a small crate and heads down to the opposite end of the dock.  Fortunato watches him go with a rueful expression on his metallic face.

Elisa shares a look with Audric, officially listed as a passenger but really the latest addition to the crew.  The warforged has been debating with anyone who will listen that he should have been named head cook for the past few weeks, to mixed reactions among the crew.  Most of them still have a hard time stomaching that he will be cooking many of their meals.

The blare of the _Alarm _ spell surprises both her and Audric, and they turn to find a heavily-muscled orc leading a band of Stormhome’s less savory citizenry at the dock entrance, the gate broken and cast aside.  The orc shouts out an incoherent battle cry as spittle flies from his maw, charging down the nearest crewman, Audric, and striking him with a powerful blow from his greataxe, drawing a gout of blood that splatters against Elisa’s leather armor.  Audric falls to the dock, dying as Elisa, shocked, raises her greatsword.

Emboldened, one of the men the orc brought with him calls out over the clamor of the _Alarm_.  ‘Come on boys, she’ll have enough loot for us to live like kings!’  Elisa swallows and steps back as she finds herself facing down the brunt of the mobs charge.


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## PhoenixAsh

Thank you for the kind words Herremann.  When our two DMs (of which Micah is one, thanks for posting the map!) decided on an Eberron game a few months ago, I hadn't even heard of the setting (it had not been released yet, of course).  But it has quickly become my favorite.

A brief aside, to introduce our crew of PCs:

Alexandre (Human Swashbuckler, 2 - Deckhand):
Piratical person who loves poking holes in people with
his thinblade.

Audric (Human Monk, 2 - Offically listed as a
passenger, Guard): The smartest monk you'll ever see
to be cut down by an orc's greataxe before taking a
single action in his first combat.  (Well, okay, one
move action)

Dox (Changling Rogue, 2 - Steward): Has a flair for
bartending, as well as sowing confusion and arrows
among his foes.

Elisa (Human Barbarian, 2 - Guard): Rightly feared
both for her greatsword and attempts at diplomacy.

Fortunato (Warforged Bodyguard Fighter, 1 - Cook):
Who's skill with a blade is exceeded only by his skill
with the frying pan.

Loki Malganis (Half-Giant Psychic Warrior, 1 -
Deckhand): Who speaks not too softly and carries a
large great axe.

Ruel Dunnanne (Half-Elf Wizard (Enchanter), 2 -
Entertainer): Who has absolutely no secrets, nope,
none what-so-ever.  Nothing to see here folks!


Updates will continue to be frequent, at least until I leave on vacation in a couple weeks, then they will be frequent when I get back.  I welcome all feedback in whatever its form, and will try to answer any questions as well.


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #3: In Which the Crew Defends the Ship for the First (And not the Last) Time*

Loki drops a large crate to the dock as he hears the Alarm spell sound from the far side of it.  Sparing a glance down, he winces, seeing the words ‘Fine Crystal’ painted across its surface.  Above him, Ruel is running down from the passenger quarters with a crossbow in hand.  Deftly scrambling down the gangplank, he pauses to clap the half-giant on the shoulder before continuing towards the source of the Alarm, calling out over his shoulder.

“That is what _Mending _ spells are for, do not worry over it!”

Loki smiles briefly at Ruel and hefts his greataxe, larger than the half-elf running before him is tall.  Pounding down the dock towards the melee, he focuses his mind and spirit to the task at hand: an intrusion, an attack on the ship… his ship.  Casting his eyes to the end of the dock, he watches the orc charge down Audric, and fell him with one blow.  Tightening his grip, he grits out the orc’s name between clenched teeth.

“Bash.”

More than two weeks ago, Loki had applied to be a deckhand aboard the Liralen.  Bash had tried out as well, and both of them with many others had undergone a series of tests, from peeling potatoes to obstacle courses to docking exercises, both in Stormhome’s pleasant weather and under the effects of a powerful storm invoked by Ravien d’Lyrandar, the ship’s Master Windwright.  One test involved moving crates across a dock, and the largest crate even he had been unable to budge on his own, but Bash had managed it.  It was not Bash, however, who had been hired.  Rumors flew among the deckhands as to why that had been the case.

Loki does not care for the reason now, the orc has already committed murder of a friend.  Loki’s eyes sweep across the battle and evaluate the situation.  With Audric down, Elisa briefly holds the narrow dock on her own, but Fortunato and Alexandre quickly move up to prevent her from being surrounded.  On the deck of the airship above the fight, Dox is freeing his bow and taking cover behind the wooden railing.

Two of the thugs charge both Alexandre and Fortunato, both striking with their shortswords, one drawing blood and the other barely denting Fortunato’s armored plating.  A crossbow bolt shoots out towards Dox, but hits low, lodging in the wooden rail of the Liralen.  On reflex, he returns fire with his shortbow, drawing a sharp cry but doing little damage as it nicks the shooter’s side.

Fortunato springs into action; throwing up his shield and turning a powerful slash from Bash’s axe, while driving his blade into the gut of the attacking thug before him.  Staggered and bleeding furiously, he flails at Alexandre, but the nimble deckhand turns the blow and the thug falls to the dock, not rising again.  Another tough tramples the body to strike back at Alexandre, gashing him across the shoulder with his blade, but not felling the gritty swordsman.

Elisa swings her blade two-handed and one foe falls before her.  Coming up behind the furious melee, incanting and gesturing, Ruel casts a _Sleep _ spell and four of the thugs slump to the ground, dozing peacefully.  The crossbow wielder glares at the wizard as he reloads his weapon, running over and stepping on each comatose comrade.  All of them stir and reach for their fallen weapons, clambering to their feet.  Ruel’s expression turns from a grin to a glower as he considers another spell.  One of the awakened men resolves to take out the spell-caster, and tries to tumble past the ranks of the crewmen, but Alexandre repels him at the end of his thinblade.  

“Where d’ya think your going?” He taunts him with a crooked grin as he tugs the weapon free.

Still pounding down the dock, Loki allows his focus to seek inwards, drawing new energy and strength from his spirit, then flow outwards to enliven his whole self with the effects of _Vigor_.  Casting his awareness back into the heart of the battle, he sees Bash whirling his great axe in heavy arcs, swinging the weapon up under Fortunato’s shield and into the warforged’s frame with a rending screech of metal on metal.  Nearby, Elisa delivers another powerful strike with her greatsword, doubling over her opponent and then felling him as she wrenches the blade free.  Ruel finishes his spell and a slick of _Grease _ appears under two thugs threatening Elisa as well as Bash, and all lose their footing and fall to the dock, writhing in the oily substance.

“Well done Ruel!”  Fortunato sounds particularly relieved to have Bash floored as he slashes at the prone orc, causing only minor harm.  Above him, Dox lets another arrow fly, catching one of the thugs in the chest and dropping him.  Alexandre misses with his thinblade, but his dagger gashes the thug before him, staggering the man and who falls back unconscious.

Loki smiles confidently, as the fight has turned out very poorly for the attackers.  Many of their number are down, and one of the thugs caught in Ruel’s _Grease _ spell is desperately crawling out of the area of effect while the other struggles to his feet, but is unable to land a blow against Elisa.  Yet again, one of the attackers tries to roll past Alexandre to attack the wizard raining spells down on them, but Alexandre is right there once again to block his passage and stab another hole in him for his trouble.

Loki’s face falls however as Bash leaps to his feet, moving with grace and speed that seems almost impossible for such a massive warrior.  Bringing his axe down on the surprised Fortunato, his blow shatters armor and crumples internals, nearly rending him to pieces and he topples, crashing to the dock, the wooden beams creaking under his weight.

“That is the last mistake you will ever make Bash!”  Loki charges into the fray and brings his greataxe down in a blow that should cleave the orc in two.  Perhaps it would have too, if the orc did not manage to sidestep it completely.

Elisa, equally intent on engaging the orc, fells her third foe with a quick swipe of her greatsword and looks to find a way to navigate the _Grease _ spell to attack Bash.  Ruel lifts his hand and yells out a clipped arcane phrase and a burst of light pops in front of Bash, _Dazing _ the powerful orc.  Desperate to disable the crew’s spellcaster, the twice-repelled tough pulls a dagger free and hurls it at the wizard, but the agile entertainer ducks the thrown blade, which clatters down the dock harmlessly.

Dox fires another arrow from the deck of the Liralen, catching a thug through his stomach.  Gasping, the man staggers out of the fray and back towards the ruined gate.  Alexandre skillfully drives his thinblade into one of the remaining thugs, and then brutally gashed his dagger across the tough’s face, nearly felling him.  A moment later he does fall, attempting a feeble attack against the deckhand that proves to be too much for him.  Behind him, however, one of the men draws a dagger and leaps at Alexandre, and both fall back in a grapple, until the man sinks his dagger in beneath Alexandre’s ribs, causing the deckhands eyes to go wide as he twists the weapon cruelly.

"Rest easy now, mate."  The tough spits in Alexandre’s face before yanking his dagger free, leaving him bleeding and near death.

Loki grimaces as he catches Alexandre’s fall out of the corner of his eye.  Only himself, Elisa, Dox and Ruel are left standing.  But the wizard had given him another chance to bring down the orc, and he intends to take it.  Driving his greataxe into the orc’s side, he delivers a powerful strike that should cut any man in two, yet somehow the orc manages to not only stay in one piece, but also keep his feet and keep in the fight!

Elisa runs in to try and help finish the orc, but crosses the still active _Grease _ effect cast by Ruel and she slips and falls, cursing.  Only a moment later the _Grease _ disappears entirely as Ruel levels his crossbow on the thug who felled Alexandre, shooting a bolt that catches him in the arm.  He ignores the wound as he studies the massive half-giant facing down Bash.

Both Loki and the orc now face each other with great axes whirling in heavy arcs.  Out of the corner of his eye, Loki catches sight of the thug leaping at him, forcing him to disturb the rhythm of his weapon.  Catching the thug with the haft of his axe, he easily repels the clumsy attack.  But Bash seizes the opening and drives his axe into the chest of the half-giant.  The attack appears to be overpowering, but somehow seems to barely affect the massive warrior, and little blood seeps from the wound.  Loki only smiles grimly and starts the deadly whirl of his axe anew.

One of the toughs slips past the ferocious melee and jabs at Ruel with his blade, stabbing the wizard in the shoulder but failing to cause him serious injury.  Elisa, finally retaking her feet, steps in and drives her greatsword in a powerful slash that breaks the orc’s skull, killing him outright.  Ruel runs behind Elisa and Loki, intent on keeping both fighters between him and his foe, but his effort is unnecessary, as with Bash down the three remaining foemen run from the scene.  Elisa catches up to the most injured one, popping him across the skull with the pommel of her blade and knocking him unconscious, as the other two escape.

The dock is silent for a moment, until the pounding of footsteps announces the arrival of the watch and members of the House Lyrandar guard.


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## dravot

Most excellent!

 Thanks for the Eberrony goodness.


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #4: The Liralen Departs Stormhome*

The morning dawns bright and clear on Stormhome, and the docks are filled with crowds of spectators wishing the airship _Liralen _ well on its departure.  Ravien D’Lyrandar delivers a short but stirring speech on the future of the vessel and the quality of her crew.  The ship departs from its dock and begins its first voyage without any further mishap.

Most of the crowd watching her depart knows nothing of the attack in the middle of the night, but by the end of the day it will be yet another rumor surrounding the mystery of the airship.  Even the authorities are not sure whether the attack was simple vandalism or if the orc and his men had other motives.  Questioning the survivors has shed little light on the matter.

Ravien’s first stop, after the ceremonies are complete and attending to the important necessities of welcoming the first group of distinguished passengers aboard his airship, is to visit the healing bay, where he has asked that all of the men and women who defended the Liralen gather to be checked out once more by the ship’s healers and to thank them personally.

He shares a nod with Vijaya d’Jorasco and her son Grelyn, both checking over each of the injured crew once more, particularly Audric and Alexandre, who suffered the worst at the hands of the attackers.  Fortunato too is present, repaired by Levic, the ship’s artificer, and in full working order.  Vijaya is a veteran of The Last War and her experience was invaluable last evening in preventing any of the badly injured crew from dying. Though angry at the attack, Ravien is pleased that his particular care in selecting this crew has already been well worth the extra effort.

“Along with my thanks for protecting the _Liralen_, I would like to present each of you with a half-share of the worth of the items recovered the attackers last evening.  As agreed, in addition to your wages, any special actions or assignments will be rewarded in this fashion.  When you are cleared by the Jorascos, please see to your duties.”

The small group sets about dividing the reward, while Ravien moves to the command deck, to prepare for their passage through the turbulent winds towards Scion Sound, and then to navigate hopefully less turbulent conversation with Adal ‘ir Wynarn, prince of Aundair.

As the sun reaches its peak the ship draws towards the sheltering cliffs that form the opening to Scions Sound, where the winds are calmer.  Passengers drift from their cabins to the deck of the _Liralen_, enjoying the sunlight and the view. Galifarian era ruins stand atop the edge of the cliff faces, an ancient reminder of more stable times in Khorvaire.  Alexandre and Fortunato, carrying silver trays of food and drink, meander among the elite of Khorvaire and the ship’s two entertainers, including the recently healed Ruel, perform on the royal deck where Brelish nobles dine by invitation of the Prince of Aundair.

Ravien relaxes on the royal deck with the Prince, engaging in idle small talk. Adal, however, seems to have more interest in keeping to his thoughts, and Ravien is happy to give him peace to do so.  The Master Windwright has little doubt as to why the Warlord of Aundair is present on the trip.  Adal has asked pointed questions as to the ships armament and military capabilities, questions coated in a veneer of curiosity, and hidden in a slew of other non-related issues; but Ravien is very aware of the prince’s design. He wonders if anyone else senses the fleet of airborne warships reflected in Adal’s eyes.

No Dragon-marked House would ever consider siding so obviously with any of the nations of Khorvaire, but all of the nations jockeyed for any possible advantage in the fragile peace since the last war, and the royalty of Aundair is by far the worst of the lot.  Ravien sighs and let’s his attention be captured by his handpicked crew.

He smiles as his performers garner a round of applause from the gathered nobles, the rivalry between the two of them has kept both of them working at their peak, each attempting to display their superiority over the other.  He may have to talk to the steward about Alexandre’s appearance, however, as the crewman still has an unsavory, piratical look even arrayed in the ship’s uniforms. Nonetheless, his deftness and innate grace in clearing plates from around the passengers makes him well suited to waiting tables. Ravien is pleased with his crew’s flexibility, considering he never hired them on with the primary purpose of waiting tables.

The warforged cook seems to be a hit with the Brelish nobles, and when asked why he left the kitchens, informs them that he is enjoying the fresh air.  They start debating between each other whether or not a living construct can truly enjoy fresh air and other creature comforts in the same way most humanoids can.

Fortunato, is not paying attention to them, however.  Looking over the railing, he points out something to some of the crew on the lower deck.  Curious, Ravien and Adal both rise and move to the rail to see what he is indicating.

“What do you see there Fortunato?”

“Look there, at the top of those cliffs.  Figures are firing arrows at us.  I believe they are skeletons.”

Ravien’s eyebrows raise but squinting he can make out the figures, just as Fortunato indicates.  “You have good eyes, well-marked.  It is almost laughable, even if the arrows could damage our hull we are far out of their range.”

“What about a little target practice with the siege weapons?”  Ruel gets an approving response for his suggestion from the nobles, and Ravien almost glares at the entertainer, as he sees Adal nodding at the suggestion.

“I think we can pay them no mind, they are no threat to the _Liralen_.”

Beside him, Adal finally breaks his silence.  “I thought you said this was an expedition ship Ravien, and these skeletons may not be a threat to you, but they might disrupt water-bound vessels traveling the Scion.” The Prince’s words are almost a challenge and it is a moment before he softens his tone and adds, “Besides, I would like to see the ship in action.” 

Ravien has to suppress a groan, as the last thing he wants to do is feed the growing delusions Adal has of a Lyrandar airship fleet for his armies.  Weighing his options, he decides on a more palatable alternative to an outright bombardment.  He nods to Adal, “Very well then, we can proceed to the observation room and I’ll show you this ship’s most powerful asset.” Turning from the disturbing gleam in Adal’s eyes, Ravien shouts out to his crew. “I want some volunteers for a surface excursion to stop those skeletons!”

 “I will go.”  The warforged cook volunteers quietly from beside them both.

“And I will go!”  The boom of the half-giant Loki’s voice, working on the lower decks as he hefts his massive greataxe, catches everyone’s attention.

“My particular talents are not well suited towards the extermination of skeletons, I will remain behind.”  Ruel answers smoothly.  Nearby Kashandi shows interest and with an icy glare at the wizard announces, “I’m going.”  Ruel rolls his eyes, causing her to bristle as she storms off below decks.

Soon the bard, the cook, the deckhand and two of the guards are taking one of the smaller elemental-powered craft down towards the cliff-side ruins.  Watching them go from the deck, Alexandre crosses over to Ruel and asks the wizard, “Just what is it between you and her anyways?”


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## Micah

Heh he, my favorite update so far! But I guess I know more about what's coming. Thanks for doing this PhoenixAsh! It's certainly giving me a reason to stop by the boards every morning, catch up on the storyhour, browse around and get more evil ideas to throw at the crew! 

A Dundjinni map of the ruins:


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## PhoenixAsh

*Interlude: About Two Weeks Ago in Stormhome*

And thank you Micah for all your help with this and the maps you have been providing.   

And thank you everyone who is reading!

Before going to the ruins, a brief visit into Ruel's past and how he first became acquainted with Kashandi:

*****

Ruel Dunnanne enjoys his performance tonight at the Redmoon Hospice, just one day after arriving in Stormhome.  After the trials of the trip from his home in Fairhaven and the subsequent interview at House Lyrandar’s castle, here he has a chance to relax and enjoy the company and comfort of a good inn.  It has been a hard road but things are looking up.  He has a solid job prospect aboard the latest and most lavish Lyrandar airship, the _Liralen_, as well as new companions, perhaps even friends, and a bright, vibrant city that loves his singing, dancing and spellcasting.

He lingers in the main hall at the end of his routine, soaking up compliments like a sponge and making pleasant small talk with patrons and staff alike, both noble and common.  Flitting from one conversation to the next with natural ease, he cultivates his audience to encourage them to seek out his next performance.  Some of the gathered here may be boarding the _Liralen _ in a few weeks after all!

When he finally does retire he makes his way down to the basement, navigating amidst a warren of orphans the Vidaris have generously housed at their inn with the bulk of their profits.  An increasingly crowded and confined warren, Ruel decides.  He doubts that many more could be housed here comfortably.  Thankfully the Vidaris, the proprietors of the Hospice, have given him a comfortable private room and board so long as he performs for them a few hours every night.  However, when he opens the door he does not find himself alone.

“Nice performance Olerude.  I hear you’re out to do your family proud now.”

An old friend of an old enemy, Paramyx Vathirae, is just about the most unwelcome sight the entertainer could see.  Ruel had personally experienced his ruthless torments as a lad, and he was not at all sad the day Paramyx had moved out of his home city.

"Paramyx," Ruel manages to answer the greeting casually with an effort.  He conceals his flinch at the use of his own full name, knowing it would only encourage the elf before him.  The only people who use Ruel’s full name are members of his family, as he never gives it to any of his many acquaintances.

“If I had known you were coming I would have tidied up the place for you.  You know, swept the floor, fluffed the pillows, put a better lock on the door.  I am glad you enjoyed the dance, but I assume that you did not break into my room to compliment me.”

"Break in!" Paramyx laughs, "The security around here is reserved for guests. They could have more I suppose, but the Vidari's tend to throw their profits to the orphans maws. And no I haven't come to compliment you, just to . . . rekindle . . . family ties. We've come a long ways since childhood, you have your skills and I have mine. 

I thought you might want some information I have about those that you will be competing against tomorrow?"

“What sort of information are you talking about?” Ruel asks cautiously.

“Let’s just say that I want to see a member of our family to make it to certain… heights.”  Paramyx grins and leans forward.  “The performers you are competing against have been around – some of them for a few days – some of them for a month. I know who they are and can give you a good idea of what you’re up against.”

“I do appreciate the gesture Paramyx, it is a wonderful opportunity is it not?  Can any of these performers boast enough skill to best me?”

Paramyx’s grin grows slowly as he watches Ruel, as if remembering certain childhood tortures that he participated in.  His gaze and oily sweet tone is not lost on the entertainer, who stiffens uncomfortably under it while the elf describes a succession of acts competing for the prized posts aboard the _Liralen_.  None of them strike the entertainer as a particular threat to beat him out, until Paramyx comes to the last one.

“Kashandi Navoestra.  She’s the one you’re going to watch out for. She’s got a better voice than you, plays her instruments well and uses magic. Sometimes she just summons a flute to finish off her folk songs elegantly. She dances and does well at that. Less athletic than you, but more graceful. She’s a threat Olerude.  But there are ways to get around threats if you know enough.”

Paramyx holds out a sheaf of parchment titled “The March of the White Arch Brigade,” a popular Aundarian war ballad and dance. Ruel is familiar with it and he sees notations in a flowing script written on the margins of the piece as he takes the parchment. His eyes catch the words “_Ghost Sound_” in those margins before Paramyx starts talking again.

“It’s her capstone performance. The one she’s been holding back for tomorrow night. . . .” He grins conspiratorially, “ But you go first. ”


----------



## Micah

Ahh yes, Paramyx.
heh he - you gotta wonder about an NPC that was named after a disease that rats get.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Interlude Part 2*

Ruel considers the implications for a moment.  If he performs the piece he holds in his hands before Kashandi does, it will spoil her act completely, but he quickly dismisses the idea.  Stealing Kashandi’s act would be quite rude, but more important; it would deny him the challenge of outperforming this talented bard.  After all, as good as she may be, she cannot have the disciplined, lifelong training that he has.  Silently, he resolves to craft a performance that all of Stormhome will never forget.

But first he must deal with Paramyx.

“I trust this is a copy and Kashandi will not miss this parchment, Paramyx?  Ravien is already... somewhat suspicious of our family and he would be quick to act on those suspicions of foul play, to our disadvantage.

But what can you tell me about the guests tomorrow, do you know anything about the crew of the _Deline_, who will be attending?  What their particular interests might be when it comes to performance?

And where can I find a _Disguise Self _ scroll in town?  If I wish to best her performance, I may have need of it.”

Paramyx’s grin fades at the response. His eyes bore into the half-elf, suspicion written across his features.

“Ravien is suspicious of everyone. He’s not a trustworthy man and will play others to his own advantage.  The _Deline _ is a freighter out of Otharaunt carrying a cargo of Orla-un wine. It’s headed to Thaliost or Flamekeep where they can charge a premium for the wine. Ravien wants to talk them out of their cargo. He’ll be able to sell it for much more in Scarn. Captain Emris is known to drive a hard bargain. Some have said he has more merchant’s blood than seaman’s coursing through his veins. As to their particular interests – they’re normal seamen on their first layover in two months - I wouldn’t suggest catering to their interests, besides Kashandi is female and you aren’t. Ravien has already scratched most performances with that type of overtone anyways. Outside of that I doubt you’ll find music that caters to their superstitions and wild sea stories.

Your best chance is to upstage Kashandi – throw her off by performing her own number. She’ll have to scrap up something else unpracticed. What do you want the scroll for anyways?”

Ruel leans against the doorframe as he responds, “If I am to upstage Kashandi, I will need to use every resource to best her performance.  While I certainly am not going to try and make myself into a sex object, there is certain... costuming that I think will be important.

Besides I can cast more spells than she, do you not agree that I should take advantage of this fact?”

Ruel shrugs nonchalantly and plucks the parchment in one hand, studying it a bit further and musing almost to himself, keeping his voice just loud enough for Paramyx to hear.  “Of course, I can always ask someone at the inn, it is no trouble if you do not know of anyone.”

Paramyx’s eyes widen and then narrow into tight slits.  Any self-respecting elf of their family prides themselves on their ability to know their location in and out.  Ruel knew his barb would be enough to distract Paramyx from his argument, at least for the moment.

“You can get them best price in town at the Shard Shop – 25gp.” He grinds out, “If you can wait till noon tomorrow I can get it to you for even less.”

“I am short on liquid assets at the moment, perhaps you could make a trade for me?” Ruel reaches into his pack and retrieve a vial of a black liquid of acidic fire, handing it to the elf.  “Noon tomorrow would be fine, of course.  If you can get a good deal and come out with some extra gold, we can split the profits.

But I must prepare for tomorrow Paramyx, if you do not mind...” 

Paramyx glares steadily at him for several moments before slowly rising and walking out of his room.  Ruel slams the door behind him and lets out a long held breath.

***

The next day both Ruel and Kashandi performed different pieces, and while it is still hotly debated whose performance was better, by most accounts Ruel’s was the most exceptional out of the pair.  Both of them, were accepted as entertainers onboard the _Liralen_, a third performer eschewed given their talent.  Every training exercise the pair were involved in resulted in escalating attempts to outshine the other and their rivalry flared to a head again a week later, when Kashandi’s act was widely considered to be better at a benefit concert held by the Vidari’s to build a new orphanage.  The competition had not ceased with the _Liralen’s _ departure from Stormhome, as of course he aided in the defense of the ship last night and now…

…And now, Kashandi is once again trying to top him by defeating a handful of skeletons.  Ironic that their relationship had soured when he had not even used the advantage Paramyx tried to give him.  Ruel’s smile is unreadable as he answers Alexandre’s question.

“Oh, just a friendly rivalry, that is all.”


----------



## Micah

Friendly Rivalry?
heh heh ahem ah yes well, I'll let that one lie for the time being.

Kashandi is one of the few NPC's that I've actually drafted a backstory for.  She's rather . . . complex . . . .

competitive . . . .

beautiful. . . .

moody. . . .

oh yeah I can think of a whole string of adjectives to describe Shandi. 



A visual of the Liralen's bard. The picture is painted by Jonathan Earl Bowser, who has some very nice pieces. 


This is Kashandi in the middle of one of her performances. Recently, she has taken more and more to blending magic into her acts. It seems there is another performer aboard the Liralen using such trivialities to enhance his natural abilities.

Did someone mention a "friendly rivalry"?  


(I think the bubbles in the picture are originally meant to represent worlds, however for my purposes I'd probably place it as the effect of a dancing lights spell.)


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #7: Descent into Ruin or Ruins...*

Fortunato glances back towards the _Liralen _ as they fly out in a small pinnace, air elemental-powered airboats, towards the ruins below.  Some of the passengers cheer, some wave, and some shout encouragements.  Looking at the four crewmen and the pilot in the boat with him, he can almost imagine this as an assault from The Last War.

He represses an odd sensation he feels must be akin to a shudder.

Fortunato inspects his borrowed warhammer, a reassuring weight in his hands.  Beside him, Loki checks the bladed edges of his great axe.  No other weapon onboard is large enough to suit the half-giant, and Loki is quite certain of the weapons effectiveness, even against the skeletons below.  Both of the day-shift guards have maces and shield at the ready, shifting anxiously, while Kashandi at the rear of the craft is looking downright pale.  The pilot is fixed on the controls, maneuvering the craft so they are covered from the skeleton’s missile fire by the cliffs as they fly towards the ruins.

Fortunato raises his shield and moves out of the small craft as soon as it lands, running forward as quickly as he can over the rubble.  He is certain that he is best suited to receiving the brunt of the attacks from the skeletons bows, and two arrows do indeed break harmlessly against his tower shield.  The pilot had maneuvered the craft perfectly to avoid attack as they descended, and he is now ducked behind the controls as the small party moves to confront the group of undead.

Both guards leap out of the craft and move up beside him, at the base of a ruined set of stairs.  More arrows fly out and one pierces the armor of the guard to his right, a half-elf by the name of Kyrjet, staining the Lyrandar crest on his tunic with his own blood.

Loki moves in behind the three of them, while Kashandi runs up against one of the ancient stone walls of the structure.  Swallowing a lump in her throat, she begins to sing.  An inspiring ballad, Fortunato feels himself bolstered by the music.  Moving up the half-dozen steps, he whirls his warhammer and bashes the lead skeleton’s skull, shattering it as the skeleton collapses before him.  Kyrjet and Tamblyn, the other guardswoman, move in to attack but fail to cause any harm as arrows pepper them.  One skeleton nocks an arrow that bursts into flames, sailing into Kyrjet and searing the warrior who staggers under the assault.  Tamblyn too has an arrow lodged into her leg and the wound is bleeding freely as she limps in to attack the undead archer.

Loki moves in and bones fly in all directions as his great axe cleaves into the closest skeleton, destroying it utterly.  Kashandi keeps behind an outer wall, but maintains her singing as she steals quick glances at the fight above.

As he engages more skeletons, Kyrjet moves to try and cut down the skeleton with the flaming arrows, and a dangerous game of cat and mouse ensues as the skeleton backs away from the guardsman while nocking another arrow, and the guardsman flails desperately with his mace.  Tamblyn takes another arrow in her shoulder and also struggles to connect with the skeleton, but Loki has no trouble, moving in and overpowering it with a solid blow.

A sharp cry catches Fortunato’s attention.  Kyrjet has dropped his weapon.  He keels over with an arrow lodged in his chest.  Fortunato stares at the featureless face of the last skeleton, and for a moment neither makes a move.  A bony hand shifts to pluck a feathered arrow as an adamantine foot crunches forward against broken flagstone.

Fortunato’s charge shatters the final skeleton before arrow touched bow. He yanks his warhammer free from the broken remains of its ribcage.  Bending down, he picks up the skeleton’s quiver and his bow, examining both briefly.  Prizes to be taken back to the ship and identified there.  Behind him, Loki and Kashandi are already tending to the two guards’ injuries.

***

“You both got a hundred gold pieces!  Those arrows are worth that much?  Why did Kashandi get a share, she did not do anything!”

Fortunato is not sure why Ruel is yelling at him, but he hopesthat it has something to do with his rivalry with Kashandi, not displeasure at him personally.  All of them have retired to their quarters.

“That’s not true, she did sing.  It was… inspiring.”  Loki booms from his bunk, while scraping a whetstone lovingly across the blade of his axe.

“Oh, it was inspiring was it?  Well, perhaps next time when orcs or skeletons or whatever attack the ship you all can defend her and I will stay in my quarters and sing!  Inspiring my ***!”

Ruel kicks his locker and storms out of the crew quarters with a noticeable limp.

Fortunato, Dox, Loki, Alexandre and Elisa watch each other for a few moments.  Dox chortles then starts laughing, and soon they all are at the wizard’s expense.

Alexandre is the first to recover, grinning as he lies back on his bunk.  “Friendly rivalry my ***.”

*****

For what it is worth, it should be noted the rivalry between Kashandi and Ruel was born not only from the unswerving dedication of Micah to the task, but also the cooperation of the dice.

Our first session our DMs set up several 'training exercises', obstacle courses for some, cooking contests for another, and a performance for one other.  I believe the die result after modifiers for Ruel was 30, and for Kashandi it was 29.

Naturally, Ruel had to gloat just a bit, and thus a friendly rivalry was born.


----------



## Micah

I remember those die rolls. . . .

I also remember the performances - someday PhoenixAsh'll have to post the description of what Ruel pulled off. Needless to say his players "creativity" certainly came into play.

I also remember the last training exercise - having the group clear out rats from the lower levels of Lyrandar castle. Ruel and Kashandi both cast sleep spells on a roomfull of the vermin. After a quick tally of the results I believe Ruel's comment was "My magics better, just like my dancing." 

Poor Ruel, the situation got more interesting as at the end of the exercise he tried to hit on the bard. But I shan't spoil the reaction - I'll leave it to PhoenixAsh to write-up sometime. I'm enjoying the posts!


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #8: An Unwelcome Stowaway*

Last update until the New Year... Happy Holidays and thanks to everyone reading.   

And yeah well... let's just say it takes a lot of 20+ diplomacy rolls to make up for putting your foot in your mouth as a first impression.  I still haven't rolled enough for Ruel to really recover with Kashandi.  Life lesson there I'm sure...

*****

Zem rests on the sacks of dried fruit. He can feel the dampness on his forehead as sweat melts into the burlap. The heady scent of apricots, raisins, bananas, and dates swim around him as he lets his breathing calm. This last venture into the populated areas of the ship had cost him. He lies unmoving, listening intently for the sounds of a search.

It had been a gamble; he'd known interaction with the crew would be, but he thought he should chance it. The scorpedes are so close to hatching now.  If the Prince of Aundair is going to the performance at the Keep, he could use the time to sneak the hatchlings into the room and hide there and the only way to find out had been to ask.

He feels good about his many guises.  He had studied a red bearded sailor and the bo’sun, now crewmen onboard, at the contests on the docks, as well as while they were working.  The Warforged cook had not suspected a thing when he got extra helpings of food to supplement what he pilfered from the hold, and the half-giant had assumed him merely to be drunkard when he found him earlier in the cargo bay.

Even the night-shift guard woman had not suspected him when he scouted out the royal deck outside Prince Adal’s quarters, posing as the guard captain.  He smiles, reflecting on the many vulnerable points of entry.  The quarters obviously are built for lavishness and comfort, not security.  When he discovered the off-ship performance, he decided the best way to confirm whether or not the prince would attend was to approach the half-elf performer in the guise of the bard.  He had watched her perform several times in Stormhome so he could impersonate her movements.

But even though he'd studied her motions and the tenor of her voice, something went wrong. He'd thought that it would be easy to approach her fellow entertainer with his questions, but something had tipped him off.  He recognized the uncertainty in the half-elf's eyes, the sudden questions about the ground excursion: something about skeletons they had encountered? Hastily he made up an answer about killing a half dozen of them and just as hastily he beat a retreat as the look in the performer's eyes deepened noticeably.  He had heard him pursuing with some other crew, but he had lost them quickly before they could pick up his trail.

It had not been the first part of his plan to go wrong either.  He had convinced Bash to make it onboard as one of the deckhands, where the orc could smuggle him onboard discreetly, and later he could impersonate Bash as he scouted the airship.  Zem sighs as he thinks of all the time he had to endure the orc’s company as he got to know him, all wasted.  He probably would have killed him and dumped his body overboard anyways, but Bash had faltered in even getting onboard, so he had improvised a simpler plan, attack the ship with a group Last War veterans, down on their luck.  Such people are always easy to find, even in Stormhome, scraping for a living.  There are always a few who can be persuaded to risk nearly any task, if it has a chance to make them rich.  He has to admit, at the critical moment, it was probably Bash’s dumb rage that had inspired the group to fight so effectively while he slipped onboard, invisible.

Now, it is down to him.  He is in a good position, as there is access to many different places in the ship from this hold, and it is less likely that he will be boxed in should someone find him.  He may not be perched in the Prince’s quarters, but he also has potions of _Invisibility _ and _Fly_. He holds the black leather bag closely, soon to be full of the hatched, poisonous scorpedes. It should only be a few hours more and then the Prince will be dead.


----------



## Boss

Argh, that is one he-double-hockey-sticks of a way to leave things.  I have to say, I am truly enjoying the Eberron storyhours that are being posted to the boards, with this one and the Schema stories being my absolute favorites.  I look forward to reading more when you pick back up after the first.

Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year to you as well.


----------



## Micah

*Airship Deck Plans*

Well, I shan't do a thing to relieve that wonderful cliff-hanger, but I can post some game maps while PhoenixAsh is on vacation.

The inspiration for the ship came directly from the Eberron Campaign Setting on page 125. The picture by Mark Tedin also set the scale for our airship since there were human sized figures on the decks.

310 feet from stem to stern and roughly 9.5 levels gave us a lot of room to play with. I'll try to post a "deck a day"   

The topview of the ship.


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## Boss

Yeah, I saw the full thing on the Dundjinni boards.  I am going to nab it tomorrow when I get access to a fast connection (living in the wilds of Texas has it's disadvantages, like dial-up only).  You did a magnificent job on the ship design, my hat is off to you!


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## Micah

Thanks! I find mapping only slightly less addictive than gaming!  


The helm and crows nest. - They do count as a level although not a whole lot of floorspace here. Directly under the helm is a low area with a cot for resting and a desk with various navigation tools (navigation room). The area is primarily used by the windwrights on duty, but can be used as a guard station to protect the helm if the ship were faced with an attack.

The elemental support is scalable, though not without some balance checks.

Under the navigation area is another low hall area which has several shelves of maps and scrolls. The hall exits to the aft battle deck which has a couple of light ballista and catapults.

The second tallest superstructure on the ship would be the tavern which is perched above the rest of the passenger areas. While the tavern is frequented by the Liralen's guests, the storage loft often plays host to crew members who enjoy a roll of dice or a couple hands of cards.


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## Micah

Level 4 is the officers quarters (the largest room is Raviens) and the first passenger area - the tavern.

I figured no village would be complete without one and the ship is roughly the size of a small, compact village.

Besides it opens up the possibility for a nice brawl.


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## Micah

Level 5

Starting with the forward battle deck - armed similar to the aft battle deck - separated from the royal deck by a low wall (primarily to support the illusion that the deck is "private").

The foc'sle has the passenger dining area, connected to passenger quarters below and the tavern above by the grand stair. There is also a stage area for our entertainers.

The expedition room (a two story room) has a stair leading past the officers lounge and guest quarters to the captains suite. The circular stairwell in this area leads up to the officers quarters and down to the kitchen.

This seems to be a popular level - the only area that hasn't seen game time has been the battle deck - believe it or not. Eventually we'll remedy that.


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## Micah

Level 6

Not only my favorite, but also to see some action soon if I remember correctly.

The forward area houses the royal suite. One of the passageways up front leads from the battle deck down into the lower holds of the ship. It's just an accessway and has no entrance on this level. The royal suite comes complete with a small servant/bodyguards quarters that also has an accesway down into a private cargo area on the next level.

The main level passenger area is pretty self-explanatory. It might be noted by someone very observant that the walls in this area seem to have been built with the idea of being able to rearrange the spaces - take out walls - etc. by the removal of wooden pins.

The aft area of the ship starts out with the expedition room, cooks quarters, crew showers, kitchen, and griffon stables/launch deck. The stairwell in the kitchen goes up to the foyer by the captains dining area above and down to the crew dining below.


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## Krafus

Hello, there. I'm a long-time lurker who, on these holidays, has finally decided to come out of the shadows. Partly because this excellent story hour, for reasons I can't fathom, doesn't seem to be getting much traffic. So I want PhoenixAsh and Micah to know that there's at least one person who is reading and looking forward to more.


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## Micah

Hey thanks Krafus! I consider luring out lurkers to be a high compliment! PhoenixAsh has been doing a great job on the write-ups - they've been a ton of fun to read!

The next deck - Level 7

Starting forward is the Royal Hold - a cubbyhole of an area which is unique simply in the fact that it only has access from the Royal suite, and it's entrance is concealed. Hold 1 is here as well.

The middle of the ship is taken by passenger areas - the library/chapel we've nicknamed "the quiet room". A second deck of passenger suites are also here, although they are nowhere near as lavish or spacious as those on the deck above. Once again the walls in the passenger area are removable.

One of the goals I had as I designed the floorplans of the ship was to delineate areas that were meant for the passengers. Political intrigue and power struggles are a part of Eberron, so getting a larger stateroom actually comes into play (at least for the NPC's right now). There are a core of rooms around the grand stair through the ship that cater to those traveling aboard. There is definitely tension between the haves and the have-nots (whether it be in terms of money or power). There are several passengers currently aboard who have been shocked by the audacity of the crew in addressing them.  

There is a small stair at the back of the passenger quarters that leads down to the ship office. Not used often by the passengers and even less often by the crew who prefer to use the forward ramp or the hatch in the battle deck.

And yes another ballistae deck - airship pirates beware!

Ironically followed by the ship hospice of which several PC's have seen a lot of.

Crew 7 houses most of our PC's. Audric officially has a small stateroom but spends time freely in the crew and passenger areas. Fortunato has quarters on the deck above, yet he does not need sleep and Meat (the headcook) tends to have a rather obnoxious snore, thus he too spends time here.

The stair separating the crew quarters from the crew dining leads up to the kitchen and ends on this floor.

Behind crew dining are animal pens (fresh meat and eggs, etc.). We went with steamer rules - the galley and livestock areas as far aft as possible. Wouldn't want anyone to catch a constant smell from those areas.


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## Krafus

I've just reread the SH, and realized that my favorite part is the 'friendly' (yeah, right) rivalry between Ruel and Kashandi. However, this has made me wonder: how will Ruel be able to compete with Kashandi at higher levels?


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## Micah

Well I do have some ideas there - but the future certainly isn't set in stone.

As an NPC Kashandi might not ever make it to higher levels. While I give my NPC's the ability to level - it doesn't mean that they will do so with the same speed as the PC's. Granted Shandi's competitve streak does grant her more xp than the average, just because she might be tempted to do stupid things like fighting skeletons   

Bards aren't known for their damage resistance. The downside of some of those stupid decisions.

Shandi has a backstory and there is no guarantee that either she or the party will remain on board the Liralen for the duration. 

Ruel's player has also indicated some interest in tying into the Creation myth of Eberron at higher levels - and I do have some ideas there as well. 

Ideas aside - wizards aren't particularly known for their damage resistance either, and experienced bad guys are known to try and "take out the spell casters first".

Guess I'm not really at liberty to say a whole lot in this thread, and most of this is subject to probable change.


I can say that there have been some interesting and humorous Kashandi/Ruel developments in game - ones that I didn't foresee as a DM. Ruel's player had me scrambling mentally for an NPC reaction. I can safely hint that you should continue to enjoy the storyhour if the rivalry there has been your favorite part.

So keep pestering PhoenixAsh when he gets back for more updates! Feedback from readers is incredibly encouraging.


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## Krafus

Micah said:
			
		

> So keep pestering PhoenixAsh when he gets back for more updates!




Heh heh, I will. Btw, do you plan on using the Liralen as the PCs' "home base," so to speak? You've said the PCs might not stay aboard for the duration, but even so, I can't think of a much cooler HQ than a flying ship (of course, this assumes they stay on friendly terms with House Lyrandar).


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## tmaaas

Krafus said:
			
		

> Heh heh, I will. Btw, do you plan on using the Liralen as the PCs' "home base," so to speak? You've said the PCs might not stay aboard for the duration, but even so, I can't think of a much cooler HQ than a flying ship (of course, this assumes they stay on friendly terms with House Lyrandar).




Well, I guess it's about time I joined this conversation. I'm the other half (well, more like a quarter; Micah pulls more than her fair share) of the DM team.

The Liralen is indeed a great "home base", especially from the DMs' perspective (it's very easy to pull characters in and out depending on who makes it to a session, for example). But it does have its drawbacks as well. In particular, the PCs have--at this point, anyways--very little control over where the ship goes and the adventures that come their way. This can lead to a feel of being "railroaded" instead of having real choices. We'll have to see how it goes; if the PCs choose to leave the ship as a group, we'll give them that freedom.

Since we're still in the beginning stages of the campaing, we're still making minor adjustments to the ship, crew, play style, etc. to enhance the overall fun and that Eberron feeling.

-- tmaaas


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## Micah

good to see you here tmaaas! and you're a little too kind. We both know that right now the combats I run are on the pathetic side. But I am working on that - someday my monsters will remember all of their attacks, and to add in their modifiers.  


Ship level 8

Hold 2 (Our assassin's lair) has access to passageways that run the length of the forward ship. These are crew areas ans passengers would be - very out of place - to say the least if they were down here. The sparring room is one of the few places onboard where both crew and passengers have equal access. The type of passengers that frequent the area are either looking for a good challenge or training. Some never set foot here.

Beyond the sparring room is crew 8 where many of the NPC crew reside.

The artificer, Levic; and the purser/scribe, Oliver d'Sivis have housing in adjacent quarters. Levic carries no dragonmark, but seems to do just fine with repairing Fortunato, or the damage that the ship has taken in game. He also is adept at navigating the heaps of odds and ends that populate his quarters. Most everyone else avoids the area if they are in a hurry to pass through.

Oliver, on the other hand is immaculate. He tends the ship office and the sending stone located there. The area has several purposes - it is one that passengers have acess to and as such, Oliver has kept Levics desk of items for sale much neater than it would have normally been. It also allows access for both crew and passengers to the observation room down through the stairwell, and to the pinnace bay at the aft of this deck.

The pinnace bay was inspired by Disney's Treasure Planet. If you don't understand the map just refer to the movie. The Liralen has two small air powered "longboats" housed in this area. (Stacked on top of each other.)

The animal pens are in place, not because of the Star Trek look that they give, but because I couldn't figure out anything else to do with the way the picture in the campaign setting looked. Besides with a head-cook named Meat we really can't go wrong with more possible entrees hanging around down here.


----------



## Krafus

Thanks for the answer, tmaaas. I for one wouldn't mind seeing adventures come my way in exchange for the sheer coolness of being aboard an airship. Still, if I may make a suggestion about the railroading part: when the PCs get higher in levels, maybe you could have the captain propose to them several tasks when they arrive at a particular destination, and they pick one or two. That way they'll feel they have a choice. 

Of course, the tasks they undertake, and those they _don't_, would have an influence later on the campaign... Like, say that minor bandit chief they decided not to go after several levels ago has become a big-time crime lord whose operations threaten the PCs' or their employers' interests.

Oh, and what is the total crew complement for the Liralen?


----------



## dravot

Are youse guys running the Eberron adventures (SoLW, WotVB), or are you striking directly into  uncharted territory?


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## Micah

I struggled a bit with how heavy of a crew the airship should have. A naval sailing ship would be many times this. But the airship has no rigging or sails - and thus a much lighter crew. Asterisks indicate known dragonmarks. The turqouis entries are the PC's

Currently the Crew (29)

1.	***Ravien d’ Lyrandar
2.	Captain D’meryl
3.	1st Mate (officer) Aloysius
4.	**2nd Mate – Pilot/Navigator (officer) Wydeth d’Lyrandar
5.	*Midshipman A (Quad) Travyl d’Lyrandar
6.	*Midshipman B (Quad) Krynson d’Lyrandar
7.	Captain of the Guard (Quad) Adjutant Tagotah
8.	Chief Steward (Quad) Sunther Chande
9.	Bo’sun – Fendrik (bo’sun)
10.	Cabin Boy – Errol (Crew 8)
11.	Cook – Meat (cook)
12.	Undercook – Fortunato (cook)
13.	Scullery A (Crew 8) Cynde d’Lyrandar
14.	Deckhand A – Loki (Crew 7)
15.	Deckhand B – Redbeard (Crew 8)
16.	Deckhand C – Alexandre (Crew 7)
17.	Steward – Dox (Crew 7)
18.	Artificer (artificer) Levic
19.	*Scribe (scribe) Oliver d’Sivis
20.	**Healer (healer) Vijaya d’ Jorasco
21.	Healer’s Apprentice (healer) Grelyn d’ Jorasco
22.	Entertainer A – Ruel (Crew 7)
23.	Entertainer B – Kashandi Navoestra (Crew 8)
24.	Guard A – Audric (Crew 7/passenger)
25.	Guard B – Elisa (Crew 7)
26.	Guard C (Crew 8) Kyrjet d‘Lyrandar
27.	Guard D (Crew 8) Tamblyn d’Lyrandar
28.	*Griffin Rider A (griffon) Maddy  Tregear
29.	Griffin Rider B (griffon) Gemma d’Lyrandar


----------



## Krafus

Wow, that's a small crew, especially when one looks at the sheer size of the ship. I understand why it's so small, but still... The Lyrandars must be confident there will never be a sizeable boarding or takeover attempt.


----------



## dravot

Krafus said:
			
		

> Wow, that's a small crew, especially when one looks at the sheer size of the ship. I understand why it's so small, but still... The Lyrandars must be confident there will never be a sizeable boarding or takeover attempt.




It would mostly depend on the size of previous attacks.  Lyrandar wouldn't  intentionally leave an airship undefended.


----------



## Micah

dravot said:
			
		

> Are youse guys running the Eberron adventures (SoLW, WotVB), or are you striking directly into  uncharted territory?




The first three game sessions were entirely ours. Additionally there was a bit of pbem to set-up a couple PC's backstories (Ruel and Audric in particular.)
We took a "break" and are running portions of the SoLW (Rose Quarry, hopefully followed by Whitehearth).

I seriously doubt that we'll use much from WotVB (maybe a setting), perhaps a Dungeon magazine adventure while in Sharn (considering Fallen Angel), then probably back to striking out on our own.

I am trying to put our game notes into the Dundjinni Adventure format. The dock fight is up on their forums here . I'm still not totally proficient with the software but hopefully will be learning more as I get further adventures entered in.


----------



## Micah

Krafus said:
			
		

> Wow, that's a small crew, especially when one looks at the sheer size of the ship. I understand why it's so small, but still... The Lyrandars must be confident there will never be a sizeable boarding or takeover attempt.




Part of that is also due to game mechanics. My PC's already feel that they are drowning in a sea of NPC characters (There is also a passenger list to deal with). There are only so many names and occupations/political affiliations that one can keep track of in a game setting. Currently we have near 100 NPC's that the players have come in contact with between various backstories, passenger changes, etc. I'm not too upset with that, considering that we have had less than a half a dozen game sessions.

Also we really did want to emphasize the "heroic" nature of the PC's. It's easier  (or at least more fun) to jimmy an air attack to "fit" the level of our PC's and thus keep the flavor than it would be to have the PC's lost in a mass of defenders. At least at low levels. Once they get higher up I'd be more comfortable with a larger crew. Then the PC's will stand out more as the leaders.


----------



## Krafus

I see. Looks like you've given all this a lot of thought. Out of curiosity, do you have battles between airships planned?


----------



## Micah

It might not be best for me to answer that question here.


----------



## Micah

Ship Level 9

This level is very low, around 3.5 feet tall, but it does serve as Hold 3 - mostly ship wares or small barrels that can be rolled into place.

The floor of the terrarium is the observation deck on the lowest level of the ship.

And soon PhoenixAsh will be back to spice up all of this dry cartography with an honest to goodness update.


----------



## Micah

The last map for a while

Ship level 10

The bosun's quarters and the brig.

And the observation deck.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #9: To Kill a Prince*

Happy New Year everyone!

Thank you Micah for posting all the decks of the _Liralen_.  Its nice seeing them one by one with descriptions, as you can imagine, its easy to forget what is what sometimes with such a large ship, even for us players.   

And thank you too for posting Tmaaas!  As far as being 'railroaded', yes we have limited say on what goes on with the airship's destinations, but we are allowed flexibility in what we do in our ports of call.  In fact, just such escapades will be the subject of a post or two in the near future...

Krafus, Boss and Dravot, thanks for posting.  I'm glad to hear that this storyhour is being enjoyed.   

Krafus, Ruel is using the entertainer wizard template out of the Quintissential Wizard book, modified a touch.  With that, Perform becomes a class skill which helps him keep up with Kashandi a bit.  Also he gains the ability to 'bluff' spellcasting while performing, and Tmaaas and I have devised a system where appropriate spells (_Image _ spells, _Disguise Self_, _Pyrotechnics_, etc) boost a perform roll.  Both of these were instrumental (pardon the pun) in Ruel beating Kashandi the first time.  Don't worry, Ruel will compete!

If nothing else a _Tasha's Hideous Laughter _ at the right moment...  

Now, without further ado...

*****

Dox lounges against the railing of the small balcony adjacent to the dining hall.  Inside, a few of his friends are still clearing dishes, but the passengers have all retired.  All except for Audric, that is.  The ‘secret’ crewman of the _Liralen _ has kept more visible lately, as all of them are on edge after the incident with Ruel and the false Kashandi.  They suspect someone onboard is impersonating crew members, and Loki, Fortunato and Elisa all have recounted strange experiences with other crew members that seem to indicate Ruel’s experience is not an isolated one.  He is gratified, however, that no one leveled accusations at him.  Usually he is the first suspect in situations like these.

Dox stifles a chuckle as he thinks on what Ruel’s s encounter with the real Kashandi had been like when he questioned her, the entertainer was reticent in describing it, save that he was quite sure the Kashandi that had asked about the Prince was not the real Kashandi.  Audric had offered that the fake Kashandi had seemed very polite, even kind to Ruel, and Ruel seemed to suspect her at first of being drunk.  Subsequent conversation dispelled that notion, but the imposter had left the crew quarters and slipped pursuit before more could be learned.  Ruel confronted the real Kashandi practicing in the dining hall, and Ruel had left both frustrated and convinced the woman he spoke with before was a fake.  Ruel had certainly channeled his frustrations, however, his performance was inspired for the evening meal, and Kashandi left without participating in clean-up duty, in a sour mood herself.

The patter of metal feet on the deck below distracts Dox.  Leaning over the rail, he can see it is just Fortunato, delivering a meal to the Prince’s quarters.  But why has he stopped?  And why is he staring at the cargo hatch?  And why did he just drop the covered platter and draw his longsword?

“There is an invisible man flying up through the hatch, he is moving towards the royal deck!  Towards the Prince’s quart…  The Prince!”  Fortunato runs forward and starts pounding on the royal cabin’s door.

Dox hesitates, looking up to see Elisa, on guard duty on the royal deck.  She looks around furiously, but the rest of them cannot see the assailant.  Dox cannot help but wonder how Fortunato can.  Finally, Elisa runs to the small hatch and stairwell that leads down to the Prince’s quarters from the royal deck, and the only door aside from the one Fortunato is hammering on, interposing herself at the Prince’s door.

Beside him, Ruel is concentrating and gestures an arm out as he calls out an arcane phrase. As he finishes he stares hard at the open space before him, shaking his head, he calls out to Fortunato, “Did I get him?  Where is he now?”

Fortunato spares a brief glance about while still pounding on the door, desperately trying to get anyone’s attention inside.  “I don’t know.  I’ve lost him!”  Ruel frowns and begins another complex series of gestures, murmuring, as he focuses intently.  Beside them both, Audric and Alexandre are drawing weapons and jumping down from the dining room to the lower deck to join Fortunato.  Loki too is running out of the ship with great axe in hand.

Dox blinks as he looks around him.  How can he attack someone he cannot see?  Suddenly he has a flash of inspiration, the kitchen stores on the other side of the ship!  Flour!  Turning he runs back through the dining area, down the stairs, through the hallway outside the passenger quarters towards the opposite end of this ship.

Probably the last thing Alexandre expects to appear next to him is a large scorpion reeking of sulfur, but appear it does and the wide-eyed deckhand watches it immediately scuttle forward and swipe a claw at what seems to be empty space outside one of the royal cabin’s windows.  Beside him, Ruel leaps down, landing gracefully and freeing his crossbow.  “In front of the scorpion, he is there, by the window!”

Fortunato ceases his pounding and moves to the opposite side of the royal cabin from the scorpion, peering through one of the large windows.  Looking through the Prince’s room, he sees the assassin again, outside the window opposite him.  His eyes widen as he watches the glass shatter, and the assassin moving inside.

***

Pylas has been Prince Adal’s bodyguard for seven years, a good stretch for a protector of the ‘Warlord of Aundair’.  A flight on a Lyrandar airship seemed a fairly safe enterprise, and he has been looking forward to passage on the latest model of the flying vessels.  A pleasant assignment, all things considered.

Suddenly in the middle of the night, there is heavy pounding on the Prince’s door, as if someone is hitting it with a ram.  Both he and the Prince are up immediately.  He runs out of his own tiny quarters adjacent to the Prince’s and through the bathroom, finding the Prince meeting him at the door, both still in their nightclothes.  He hustles him through and locks him in his cramped quarters, while drawing his blade and standing protectively in front of the door to the bathroom.  The only way to the Prince is through him.

The glass of the window to his left shatters, though there is nothing that seems to cause it.  Pylas sees a splatter of blood against the window sill, as a large claw from outside the window snaps at something.  To his right and in front of him another window shatters, and a warforged with a longsword and shield steps through.  To his left and before him a third window is shattered and a giant of a man leans through with a huge great axe in hand.  Swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, Pylas briefly wonders if his lengthy tenure of service is about to end.

***

Fortunato tries to point out the invisible attacker to the bodyguard and Loki, but a moment later a black leather sack becomes visible to all three of them, falling open in the center of the room.  Skittering, chittenous creatures scurry out the opening, beginning to carpet the floor of the room.

Loki and Pylas skirt the swarm of insects warily.  Fortunato charges right through them.  Two longswords and a great axe whistle through empty space.  Suddenly, the assassin appears, completing an acrobatic dodge in that space, jabbing his weapon at the Prince’s bodyguard, who deflects it easily.  But the assassin is already flying back out the window and into the open air beyond the Liralan’s railing, out of reach of the three warrior’s weapons.

***

Zem’s eyes start drooping as he flies out over the royal deck, suddenly the gravity of the situation, all the hard work to reach this moment, the restless nights in the ship’s hold, it feels like its too much, maybe he could just close his eyes awhile…

…No!  He shakes off the _Sleep _ spell and surges towards the staircase leading down to the Prince’s quarters from the royal deck.  That was too close.  Zem’s fingers tighten around the javelin.  Things are turning against him.  The element of surprise has been lost, and how had that warforged seen through his invisibility?  A lump rises in his throat as he descends the tight spiral of the stairwell.  If he can just get into the cabin and dump the hungry scorpedes, their collective poison should immobilize Adal for the moment he would need. . .    

The vision of Adal writhing under the stingers of his pets scatters abruptly.  Zem dodges out of the swath of steel the guardswoman in the stair is wildly creating in an attempt to block the door. He’d already practiced picking the door lock, but as easy as it was, it couldn’t be accomplished through the guard. Even invisible, there just wasn’t the room to move about in the stairwell to try and avoid the wild sword thrusts. Frustrated he floats back out of the stairwell and down the side of Adal’s cabin, keeping the walls between him and that warforged.

Zem’s hands are shaking uncontrollably as he places his cheek against the window pane. Time is running out!  He hears shouts from the deck and the sound of more spell-casting. If he can just get into the Princes quarters another way.  The warforged guards the door on this deck, and the female guard, although unable to see and pursue him, has set up an effective block on the other entrance.  Zem fingers the lock on the window.  Transferring the javelin to the hand holding the squirming leather bag he shakily selects a pick from his tunic pocket.

He never has a chance to steady his hand to use it, as a giant scorpion rounds the corner. The creature somehow senses his position and closes. Zem, adrenaline coursing even higher, drops the idea of stealth and shatters the window with the base of the javelin. The scorpion manages to rake his side as he clambers through, heedless of the minor cuts from the glass shards.

Scanning the dusky interior leaves his heart frozen in the pit of his stomach.  Adal isn’t in sight; the bodyguard is mimicking the fighter in the stairwell, backed against a closed door, sword drawn and weaving in front of him.  The windows on two sides of the room explode and he hears the warforged calling out his position above the crash.  He is no match for the opponents entering the room.  Zem’s adrenaline leaves a bitter taste in his mouth as suddenly he realizes his mission has little chance of success.

It’s an instantaneous thought that he may not survive to try again.  Fear rushes through him, but he tries one last tactic.  Dumping the bag of scorpedes he gives up the now limited protection of the invisibility as he swipes at the bodyguard.  The attack does not even penetrate the man’s defenses.  Zem could take the bodyguard down with his javelin, but that would simply be a waste of power, leaving him nothing to deal with the ruler behind the door, who would not be defenseless. Turning he flies back out of the window, shooting over the railing of the Liralen and into the cool dark air beyond. . . .

He’s already beyond the reach of most of the guards and he will be well away before they are even aware he is gone.  Suddenly there is a sharp pain in his neck, a sudden choking sensation as blood fills his throat, then darkness…

***

Dox and Ruel share a grin and Ruel gives him a thumbs-up.  Two bags of flour lie by the bartender, and he is covered in the powdery baking material, but it is his arrow now lodged in the assassin’s throat.  Still under the effects of a _Fly _ spell, the assassin’s body slowly spins down beyond the rail of this ship.  Ruel is already calling out for someone to call a gryphon rider out to retrieve it.

Suddenly a searing pain shoots up Dox’s leg and he looks down to see a scorpede’s stinger imbedded in his ankle.  Yelping, he kicks his foot out reflexively and sends the vermin flying off the edge of the airship.  Ruel calls out sharply; he too has one of the creatures clinging to his leg.  From the royal deck above, Audric leaps down and delivers a precise kick, which catches the scorpede, knocking it off the entertainer and crushing it against the deck.  Elisa is clambering down less gracefully, and soon the whole deck, along with the royal quarters, resounds with the thunk of metal weapons on the wooden deck and the crunch-squish of dying scorpedes.


----------



## Krafus

Aah, assassination attempts on royalty, a staple of fantasy. I wonder what will come of this? And how did Fortunato see the invisible Zem, anyway? I want more!


----------



## tmaaas

Krafus said:
			
		

> And how did Fortunato see the invisible Zem, anyway? I want more!




Fortunato has the following custom template:

*Warforged Bodyguard [template]*

Besides the basic warrior model, House Cannith produced a variety of more specialized warforged. Of these, one of the most popular and successful was the warforged bodyguard. These warforged were created to protect wealthy and important individuals by improving the base model's abilities in both defense and detection.

_Creating a Warforged Bodyguard_

"Warforged Bodyguard" is an inherited template that can be added to a warforged (referred to hereafter as the base creature).

A warforged bodyguard uses all the base creature's statistics and special abilities except as noted here.

_Spell-Like Abilities_: A warforged bodyguard may continuously see invisibility per the spell.

_Special Qualities_: A warforged bodyguard has all the special qualities of the base creature, plus darkvision out to 60 feet and enhanced senses (see below).

_Enhanced Senses (Ex)_
* +2 racial bonus to spot (sight), listen (hearing), and search (touch).

* Ability to detect poison via taste and smell. This is done with the orifice through which the warforged ingests potions and does not involve a risk of being poisoned. The warforged bodyguard may identify the exact type of poison using the same rules as the Detect Poison spell.

Using this ability for ingestible substances is a standard action which provokes an attack of opportunity (same rules as for using a potion). The ability to detect air-borne poisons operates continuously.

_Abilities_: Increase from the base creature as follows: Con +2.

_Feats_: Warforged bodyguards gain a free Adamantine Body or Mithril Body feat.

_Level Adjustment_: +1.


----------



## Micah

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> the crunch-squish of dying scorpedes.




It was supposed to be harder than that. I had a table of incidents on board starting with mundane things like a crew member coming to eat twice for one meal all the way up to the Kashandi incident which I knew would catch attention. I was pretty certain that our assasin would get caught before hand.

If the assassin was caught, the scorpedes would have hatched in hold #2 and escaped to virtually all over the ship causing panicked passengers and other interesting situations. (Some of which dealt with our undercover passenger Audric.)

However it came down to a sense motive die roll and Ruels player managed to come up with a great reply for a nasty roll - "I think she's drunk."

One of those classic situations where from a metagame standpoint you know somethings up, but your character is clueless.

We still had a great close to the session. It would have been a close call for Adal had the crew in general, and Elisa in particular, not acted as swiftly as they did. With Dox's player burning through an action point to aid the final shot - It was a fun night.


----------



## Black Bard

Congratulations, Phoenix Ash!!! Great writing!
And to Micah and Tmaas too, this campaign sounds promising!!! I just wonder how do you do this double-DM trick...

Just a couple of observations: the last update is numbered #10, but I haven't seen an update #9. And isn't this "Warforged Bodyguard" template a bit unbalanced (theorically)? I mean, now that you've put it in action???


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #10: Aftermath of an Assassination*

A brief update with the immediate aftermath of the assassination attempt, courtesy of Micah with some minor edits by yours truly.  The next one will be signifigantly longer and the rammifications of this little act of politics will certainly extend far further than this post...

Black Bard, thanks for the kind words, and for catching the incorrect posting #s.

Micah and Tmaas run a great game doing the 2 DM trick!  I'm not entirely sure how they pull it off so well myself.

Some of Fortunato's abilities *have* been the subject of some interesting situations.  I'll just say that as another teaser for some future postings...   

*****

Levic the artificer considers the various treasures found upon the body of the assassin. Much he identified easily – the magical coat of mithral – the masterwork items – those were fairly easy to figure out. For the odd javelin he has to resort to magical means.
His eyebrows shoot up as he works.

He watches Adal ir' Wynarn pace the deck, his brow furrowed as he surveys the body of the changeling that had tried to kill him. "Beggin', your pardon, sire – but you are lucky he never got off a throw with this. It's a Javelin of lightning and if those critters hadn't finished you off, this would have."

Adal studies the item closely. "I see. After you are done, secure the body for transport. I want to have it interrogated when we reach Fairhaven. Perhaps then I will have some answers." Adal then addresses the half-elf next to him. "If you don't mind, I think I will retire for the evening, Ravien."

"Yes – I've asked the stewards to prepare the guest room next to the Captain's quarters. It's been vacant since the Harpist of Cyre was unable to come, and I think that it will be less drafty for the time being. I'll post extra guards for the evening, but I think the lion's
share of the danger is done with." Ravien watches the prince head towards his new quarters and sighs quietly.

"Levic, tomorrow could you start repairs to the windows on the royal suite? It won't be necessary tonight. I'll take that mithral shirt, the gems, and enough of the coinage to make up the Liralen's cut – make sure the rest gets back to the crew members responsible for
heading off this business.

Wydeth, I'd like to see them all at lunch in the captains dining area – to extend my gratitude. Could you see that their duties are covered for the early morning through the meal? Post fresh guards for the night in stairwell off of the captain's quarters, and in the
Expedition room.”  The _Liralen’s _ second mate nods smartly and moves off quickly below decks.

”Vijaya, how are we doing with tracking down those bugs and keeping the crew on their feet?"

Vijaya d'Jorasco looks up from tending the bite below the entertainer's knee. "All but one of the bugs are accounted for sir.  The remaining one went up the elemental support. – Alexandre – the seaman with the thinblade – went after it. I'd rather he's bit than falls. The poison is easier to deal with than that many broken bones. A bite here or there we can handle. If anyone had been bit multiple times – well, things could have been a lot worse.

Grelyn asked if we could save one to dissect. . . . I have to say, I didn't quite believe you when you talked about the action that you thought we might encounter. This'll turn my hair grey yet!"

Ravien looks down at the healer with a smile – "If Grelyn hasn't managed to do that, I don't think you'll have to worry.** There were reasons why I wanted a healer who had seen combat aboard."

An excited yell brings the conversation to a halt. Alexandre, supported easily by Loki, gives a grin and flicks the last scorpede off of his dagger. "Got `em!”  The remark though is followed by a shade of green passing the swashbucklers face. "But I am feeling a bit
seasick, for the first time in my life.  I killed it, but it bit me. I think, if I can avail myself of some of your aid, I will feel again like I came out with the better deal."


----------



## Micah

Black Bard said:
			
		

> I just wonder how do you do this double-DM trick...




tmaaas and I seem to complement each others abilities. He has a mind for the game mechanics and thrives with combat scenarios. I like visuals and thus I get to make the game maps and counters. Both of us like to plan together and usually we come up with better ideas after batting things back and forth before game sessions. In game we usually divide up certain areas for one of us to run and the other to ride shotgun. It seems to work well and we enjoy it.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #11: A New Assignment*

Most of the crew enjoys a half-day of rest, to be followed by lunch with Ravien in the captain’s dinning area.  Many are quite relieved to take a break from ship duties and placating the prestigious passengers aboard the _Liralen_, and attending to their myriad demands.  Ruel is the only one who works during that time, preparing several Mending spells and assisting Levic with the repairs to the royal cabin’s windows.

At lunchtime, Captain D'meryl ushers all of them into the aft dinning area and then leaves to head a table in the passenger hall.

Ravien and one of the passengers are already present in the room. The Lady Elaydren d'Vown, a human female dressed in a shimmering blue glammerweave gown smiles at the arriving crew members. She has delicate features, dark blue eyes, and sleek black hair bound with silver and turquoise ornaments. She wears a signet ring of House Cannith on her right ring finger and greets the party with a soft clear voice as they are introduced by Ravien.

As the meal is brought to the table, Ravien thanks the crew. "The actions you took last night are appreciated, and it gives me great hope that the _Liralen _ will actually become the ship that I have envisioned. Your actions saved the life of the prince of Aundair, and they have paved the future path for the Liralen. She has been designed not merely to transport cargo from one port to another, but as an expedition ship, and in that sense her greatest asset is crewmembers like you.

I'd like to introduce you all to the Lady Elaydren d'Vown. When we depart Thrane we will be undertaking a side venture on behalf of Cannith West. A venture that could be very profitable, yet its success lies in the type of teamwork displayed last night. I think
that I will let her explain more, Elaydren?"

While a part of the social elite, Elaydren is popular among the assembled crew, being one of the more reasonable passengers and having chatted amiably with many of them between their duties. "My house has been working to find a family heirloom; the recovery of this item would be something of great value to us.

A month ago we were all certain that this relic was lost forever, yet that all changed as I was contacted by a dwarf named Fintan McGuenter. I have reason to believe that his statements are true at this point. He claims to hold the information we seek – the knowledge of this artifact's current location. I will be meeting with him to get a full report when we reach Fairhaven."

Elaydren draws a breath and looks steadily at each of you in turn. "I need the help of the Liralen because right now it seems most likely that the artifact resides in the Mournland. . . . a recovery job that lies beyond the average, but from what I have heard from Master
Ravien, this ship and its crew are far from average," a twinkle lights her eyes as she smiles. "From what I've seen so far, I'm inclined to agree."

”What of the rest of our passengers?”  Fortunato asks as Elaydren concludes.  “Surely they will not wish to travel with us over the Mournland.”  The warforged shifts forward as he speaks, his voice tinged with apprehension.

It is Ravien who answers, “Our passenger compliment will be disembarking in Aruldusk and will have the option to take several nights lodging there.”  

“Are we going to try and land the ship there or…?”

Ravien cuts off Alexandre’s thought quickly.  “One of the pinnaces will bring a small ground party to the location, who will attempt to retrieve the item.”

“Just what sort of item are we talking about here?” Dox interjects. 

Elaydren hesitates a moment before answering.  “The heirloom that I am looking for is a diamond-shaped ‘schema’.  It is an adamantium plate the size of one’s hand.  It means a lot to my House to recover this item.”

Ravien nods and states, "The finders fee for the recovered schema will go to those crewmembers who bring it back.  As you all have proven yourselves already, I'm
offering you the first chance to be a part of the landing party."

Ruel, who has been staring quite intently at Elaydren leans forward.  “Aside from the obvious dangers of the Mournland, are there any other particular threats you anticipate?  Does anyone else know of this… schema?”

“No, no I do not believe anyone else has knowledge of it.  And it would be best for all involved if it stayed that way, if I may ask you all to exercise the utmost of discretion with this information.”  Elaydren encompasses the table with a smile.  A brief shadow passes over Ravien’s face as he studies Ruel, but it passes, as the wizard is the first to agree to the mission.

It is Fortunato, who is the most hesitant and he voices this quietly,  “I do not wish to see what has become of Cyre.”

Ravien’s expression clouds, “I had thought you particularly suited to this task Fortunato.  But if you do not wish to undertake it, well, the pinnaces can only safely hold six in any event.  I will insist that you be part of the second team I am assembling, however, should the first fail.”

Fortunato nods slowly with a hint of resignation.  The rest of the party looks uncomfortable, and a few puzzled looks are given to the warforged, mixed in with trepidatious glances amidst them all at the possibility of failure.

Ravien nods curtly, “Then there is only more item.  Queen Aurala has extended her summons to the seven of you to a banquet in her honor at Fairhold, in thanks for saving the life of her brother.  As your presence will be required immediately upon our docking in Fairhaven, you will be excused from shore duties.  Ruel can show you the way to Fairhold, I am certain.”

Ruel looks practically stricken at this assignment, but manages a quick bob of his head.

Ravien stares hard at his entertainer for another moment before rising, “Please do your best to give a good impression.  That is all.”


----------



## Krafus

Heh heh, this schema plot looks interesting. I wonder if the other factions in House Cannith will get in on the action before it's done? Guess I'll have to wait and see. Oh, and I do wonder why Ravien seems annoyed at Ruel, and why Ruel was "stricken" when Ravien said he could lead the party to Fairhold.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

All good questions Krafus.  There are some good answers too, but you'll have to stay tuned for them.   

You might be a tad suspicous or annoyed at Ruel with sensitive information too, if you knew as much about *spoiler* as Ravien does, and you knew that Ruel *spoiler*.


----------



## tmaaas

*The Adamantine Chef*

Hello all,

Thought I'd take you back again to the beginning with a taste of our first session. As Carly (see 1st post) overheard, there was a cooking contest to determine who would be hired as the Liralen's chefs (there are two onboard). 

The contest was run as a seven-course meal. Micah created the two NPCs, Meat and Darance, while the third competitor was our Warforged Bodyguard PC, 42NAT0 (Fortunato). For each course a description of the food served was read and a Profession (Chef) check made. The sum of the checks determined the winner.

------------------------------------------------------- 

Halfling: Eustace McGuire (NPC)
aka: Meat 
cooking modifier +2

Eustace likes to cook – always has, and there’s always been a frontier inn here or there that’s needed a good cook, but frontiers mean hardship and whether it’s because the business has dried up or the inns been ransacked, there’s been reasons to move on as well. When Eustace saw the notice for an airship cook it sorta sounded neat – and he was currently out of a job. So he’s found himself in the biggest city he’s ever seen – Fairhaven. And he’s out to cook his way onto the Liralen.

1st course
Greens _“just greens that’s all I call them – most folk don’t eat much of them, but they can be pretty tasty when cooked right._

2nd course
Campfire bread _“ya gotta know what you’re doin ta cook bread like this – If’n ya don’t let it rise the right way it turns inter hardtack – and ya know how tasty hardtack is.”_

3rd course
Good ale _“Now of course lotsa folks like this as a first course so I guess it’s personal preference where’n ya put it in the meal.”_

4th course
Meat _“Well alright meat stew to be technical. Doesn’t really matter what type of meat n’ most folks prefer not to know.”_

5th course
Meat _“ Sometimes we serve it with fried taters, but mostly folks just prefer the meat._

6th course
Meat again _ “I knew when you folks said 7 courses that I was in my 'element' so ta say. I cook for folks like that all the time –"_

7th course
Whiskey ‘n Prune juice _ “It’s not the most popular drink we serve – but for them seven course folks I usually recommend it. Kinda comes in handy if’n  ya know what I mean." _

------------------------------------------------------- 

Human: Darance Mewldon the 3rd (NPC)
cooking modifier -4

Darance has always had a flair for creativity. He views food as an artistic medium and usually creates fine sculptures that are very interesting if not quite palatable. Food is an art and he has always aspired to be a master chef. He’s worked for years as an underchef in a fine inn in Scarn. But he was so limited there. When a patron left a wadded copy of the Aundarian scroll on a table – he knew his destiny. He scraped every last cp and bought passage on the lightning rail towards Stormhaven. It’s been an adventure but he also knows it as his destiny.

1st course
Egredoucetes _“fish heads and livers with ginger and pepper – placed on the plate and perfectly garnished with gillyflowers”._

2nd course
Eyls in Sorre _“Eels in a special thick sauce. The recipe has several secret ingredients that I refuse to reveal lest someone seize this fine dish that I alone can make.”_

3rd course 
Charlette _“Curds with veal, served with broth and bread baked in the shape of porpoises”_

4th course
Blandysorye _“A pottage of capon with almond milk and saffron. Served with white wine.”_

5th course
Gosyl ala Liralen _“Stuffed goose wings artfully melded together in a masterpiece. Can you not see it is the very image of the grand airship herself. Served with red wine.”_

6th course
Cawdelle Ferry _“Wine thickened with egg yolks and spices” _

7th course
Trayne Roste _“My dessert spectacular! Mock entrails made of batter-dipped fruits and nuts!”_

------------------------------------------------------- 

Warforged: 42NAT0 (PC)
cooking modifier +5

Can a warforged cook? Can they taste? Do they really drink oil? Tune in to the ultimate iron chef (or is that the adamantine chef?) contest to find out. . .

1st course
Appetizer _“Aundarian stuffed mushrooms – served with green onions, red bell peppers, soft bread crumbs, topped with a fine grated parmesan cheese”. _

2nd course
Soup _“Tangy Cinnamon Gorgon Beef Chowder – a delicacy, very hard to find, but I had the opportunity to make it during the last years of the war when my unit killed a Gorgon and we feasted on it for several days.” _

3rd course 
Salad _“Salmon stuffed tomato – Salmon mixed with a creamy dill dressing and chopped cucumbers served on the side with parsley” _

4th course
Main I _“Pasta Primavera made with the freshest of local vegetables creating a uniquely regional dish: wherever the Liralen goes the dish will be unique to the locale.” _

5th course
Main II _“Orion Lightening Roast - A complicated recipe requiring electricity to cook the beef, served with a twice baked potato.” _

6th course
Dessert _“Fairhaven cheesecake served w/ final course” _

7th course
Final _“Tinker’s coffee which contains a healthy serving of rum” _

------------------------------------------------------- 

The contest took fifteen minutes in real time and was hilarious. Two of our players ran the NPCs (Dox's player with Darance; Loki's player with Meat) and did a great job. The attachment is a short clip of the end of course one and the beginning of course two. It is sort of a microcosm of the whole. Enjoy!

Oh, if you're wondering who won...

I used 42NAT0 as the reference point and scored the two NPCs as either better (positive) or worse (negative). The final tally had Darance at a -53, while Meat racked up an amazing +30! (His rolls were incredible. Even with the single 1 he rolled, he averaged over 15 on all seven courses!)

And so, Meat became the head chef aboard the Liralen, with his trusty assistant, the Warforged cook, 42NAT0.


----------



## dravot

That sounds like much fun!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #12: A Stroll through Fairhaven*

Now that audio clip brings back memories.   

Speaking of our party's warforged cook, a lot more will be learned about Fortunato in this update.  Unfortunately one PC will not be enjoying their stroll through Fairhaven...

***

The party stands on the dock by the _Liralen_, staring hard at Ruel, while the wizard fidgets under their collective gaze.  The normally gaudily dressed entertainer is wrapped up in a cloak with the hood pulled low.  His features and skin tone have been subtly altered, his features muted, made to look completely non-descript.  In fact, he looks nothing like Ruel at all.

“Are you sure that nothing…” begins Audric.

“No.”

“Hey!  You're not a changling too are you?”  Dox pipes up brightly.

“No!”

The staring continues.  Finally Ruel throws up his arms and makes a frustrated sound, “Come on, we do not have all day!”

Ruel leads them through winding streets towards the castle.  The only Fairhaven native in the group moves swiftly through the crowded streets, bustling with the activities of the market at midday.  It is not long before the rest of the party is completely lost.

Loki grumbles as he strides along the street.  Passer-bys give him a wide berth.  “I swear we passed that merchant’s stall twice already!”

Behind him, Fortunato seems distracted.  “I am certain he knows where he is going.”

Loki snorts, then slows his pace to walk beside the warforged, a magebred mare drawing a carriage in the opposite direction snorts as the half-giant brushes against her side, but plods steadily onward as the driver glares at Loki, opening his mouth to say something snide, then thinking better of it.

“Why aren’t you coming with us?  You’re a good man, good fighter too.”

Fortunato looks up at him with a pleased expression.  “Thank you my… friend.  But it is, complicated.”

Loki smiles.  “We have time, tell me about it.”

*****

“Where to begin?  I was once told by an old dwarf, ‘If you don’t know where you’ve been boy, how do you know here your going?’  Perhaps with that bit of wisdom, I should start from the beginning, the very beginning.

When I became, aware four years ago I was told only two things, my designation and my assignment.  4-2-N-A-T-O.  I was not told what my designation stood for.  I still do not today.  But my assignment was made clear, to guard the life of Lord Escondido ir’Marr’s sons, Master Antonio.  One of the many vassal lords of Aundair fighting under Queen Aurala, the Lord ir’Marr had decided on my particular model after his son barely survived two poisoning attempts. *

For two months I was his tent guard, twenty-four hours a day.  I was called inside only to test his food at meal times.  In battle, I served as his shield bearer, protecting him against missile attack and engaging foes who came too close.

I must admit, for those first two months I became increasingly depressed.  I was ignored by Master Antonio and his men, a construct and nothing more, not to be spoken with and last in line to be healed when injured in battle.  I was lonely, I longed for company, conversation with anyone.  I contemplated my existence.  ‘Why did I have sentience?  Do I have a soul?  Is there a life beyond this one for a warforged?’

I heard no answers from above, and no one would listen to me there.

My situation improved, finally, when Master Antonio’s cook was revealed to be an assassin, attempting to poison him.  I detected the deadly toxin in my usual taste test, when the cook thought me too badly injured to do my duty.  Of course, no injuries were too grave for me to be excused from my vigil.

Master Antonio was shaken by this third poisoning attempt, and refused to eat, despite my testing his food.  After a week of this, I could tell he was weakening, growing ill and would die if he did not eat something.  I took it upon myself to cook a meal and present it to him myself.  He was willing to trust me and ate ravenously.  He claimed it excellent and I was appointed his personal cook.

My feelings of depression began to subside as Master Antonio took an interest in my well being for the first time.  He and a few of the other commanders began to speak to me, mostly about food, but it felt good to talk to someone.  I no longer served on the front lines, as Master Antonio was not willing to risk his favorite chef.  I felt pride for the first time.

Removed from the front lines, I was free to observe our battles from a distance.  We were investing Cyre, and the fights were going very poorly for the nation.  But I was struck by how hard they fought, nearly to the last.  I asked Antonio about it.  He told me they fought for their homes, their way of life.  I asked why we fought.  He told me we fought for the glory of his father, Queen Aruala and Aundair.  I felt the armies of Cyre fought for a better cause.

I can only be thankful we were not in the front lines when the great tragedy befell Cyre, which transformed it into the wasteland that is now called the Mournland.  From my months as a silent sentinel I had come to enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of the Cyre countryside.  I thought them beautiful, even war-torn as they were.  I felt it a great loss that all of that was gone.

Two years later, we were given word that the war was ended, and I was instructed to give a great feast for Master Antonio and his men.  I must admit that it was the greatest meal I had made to date.  All that attended complemented him and I.  After the festivities, Master Antonio asked to speak with me.  I was informed that with the war’s end, warforged were no longer considered property, but would be considered as equal members of society.  I believe that, if I could have, I would have cried.

Master Antonio smiled at me and told me that it had been a pleasure serving with me.  I shook his hand, it was the first time anyone shook my hand.  He told me that I was discharged from his service, and that he wished for me to find a life of my own, to do what I pleased.  He gave me money and bade me keep my sword and shield, money to start my new life.  I could find no words to say.  I bowed and left him and the next day my spirits soared with the rising sun as I began my new life, my new quest for self-discovery.

I soon found, however, that diplomats and nobles saying warforged were free, and actually being free, were two different things.  Everywhere I went I was met with disrespect, or outright hostility.  I was chased from villages by angry mobs, children ran from me and few would do business with me.  I found scant work, mostly guard duty, for a fraction of the wages of my flesh and bone peers.  I spent six months at a tavern called the Coy Nixie, and was paid a measly three coppers a day.  The owner, a greasy fat man named Chunk, took pleasure in yelling at me everyday.  I finally quit when he accused me of drinking the lantern oil when he was not looking.  I was never treated fairly, no matter where I went.
But I did not allow myself to grow bitter, or violent to those who mistreated me.  I saw freedom and sentience as a gift and I cherished it.  I wanted to find serenity through faith, but I did not know who, how to worship.  I wandered until I chanced upon an advertisement, a position as a chef aboard an airship.  I felt it my destiny.”

***

Fortunato looks up to the half-giant.  “When I met you and Ruel on the road to Stormhome, I knew I was correct.  Neither of you treat me like less of a person.”

Loki shrugs and claps him on the back.  “You aren’t.”

Fortunato looks ahead of them; Fairhold dominates the end of the road before them.  “There, you see?  He knows where he is going.”


----------



## Krafus

Well, Fortunato's background is interesting. But what really intrigues me is why Ruel is trying to go to Fairhold stealthily.

Oh, and just a minor note... 'It's “Hey! *You're* not a changling too are you?” Dox pipes up brightly.'


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #13: Dinner with the Family*

Ruel gasps for breath as he leans against a crate at the dock, intently searching the crowded streets behind him for any signs on his attacker.  The sun is setting in Fairhaven and the clouded sky is awash with vibrant hues of red, orange and violet.  Gradually Ruel’s breathing slows and his pulse stops hammering in his tapered ears.  Aside from a few curious but fleeting glances, no one seems to be paying him any special attention; his attacker has been lost.  Gradually his fingers unclench from the handle of a dagger that had been thrown at his head not minutes before and he studies it for the first time since recovering it.  He recognizes its distinctive style and the identity of his attacker hits him like a hammer blow.  Struggling for calm, he replays the events of the last day over in his mind.

***

While the rest of his friends animatedly discuss the wonders of Fairhold court, the banquet, the motherly charm of Queen Aurela and the Knight’s Honor Tokens hanging around their necks, Ruel lags behind.  He had spent plenty of time and effort on making certain his approach to the castle went undetected.

But he had not counted on the Queen hiring nearly a dozen members of his House to perform during the banquet.

Not one of the House Phiarlan entertainers had given any sign of recognizing him, but Ruel knew well that the Queen could have been having an affair with the King of Karrnath right before them and they would not have batted an eyelash.  Well, perhaps one eyelash.

Ruel suddenly realizes his friends are all waiting for him to lead them back to the dock.  Absently, he gives them directions, “Take this road until you reach the docks, turn right and follow the docks until you see the ship.  I have some errands I must run… the items we decided to sell.”

His friends look surprised.  Loki raises his voice, “You mean we could have just walked straight here!?”

Ruel shrugs, his voice wooden.  “I thought you might like a brief tour of the city.”

“There was nothing brief about it!” Alexandre snorts.

Audric is watching him intently.  “Perhaps I should accompany you, none of us should wander the city alone.”

“I know Fairhaven like the back of my hand.  I will be fine, believe me.”  He manages a smile.  It hardly seems to satisfy Audric, but the rest move off down the road towards the dock and the monk follows in turn.  Ruel can hear their conversation turning towards their coming assignment before they pass out of earshot.

Fairhold, the impressive seat of Aundair’s government, is not far from his new destination: The House Phiarlan’s compound, and it does not take him long before he sees it looming down a familiar avenue.  But he is not about to walk in the front door; instead he turns into a florist’s shop a couple blocks away.

The florist recognizes him immediately and beams a smile.  “Ruel!  Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise?  It’s been awhile, someone serious this time?”

Ruel’s demeanor is immediately casual and friendly with the matronly owner of the small shop.  “Not yet I am afraid, Mara, actually I need an arrangement delivered to my mother…”

Mara smiles.  “Oh that’s sweet!  What did you have in mind?”

Ruel spends the next few minutes with Mara creating a fairly elaborate arrangement for his mother.  A handwritten note is soon to follow:

_Ishesethe,

I enjoyed your performance the other night.  Will you come and meet me, at our favorite restaurant for dinner at sunset, the one we went to after the Spring Festival?  I am only in town for a day and I need to talk with you.

-Ole Osiris_

Ruel nods as he re-reads the note.  It would seem harmless to a casual glance, another letter from one of his mother’s ‘devoted admirers’.  A renowned actress and renowned among men for other reasons as well, it should only stand out to her.  The reference to his father’s last name would stand out like a sore thumb to her, but most prying eyes at the Phiarlan compound would think nothing of it.

Lifting his gaze Ruel smiles ingratiatingly.  “Mara, I know this is a big favor to ask, but could you have this delivered right away?  We had a bit of a fight and I feel really bad about it…”

“Oh don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll see it’s in her hands before the passing of the hour.  So Ruel, is there any chance of a woman in your life?  You need to settle down, its about time you started a family…”

Ruel thinks that over a moment.  Elaydren is a member of House Cannith, nothing is happening there, he is among a gaggle of Lyranders, in fact the only one onboard the Liralen who seems available to him is Kashandi.  He has to repress a derisive snort.

“Not yet, Mara, not yet.”

Ruel leaves and picks a meandering course through the streets of Fairhaven.  As much as his relationship with his mother has been strained in recent months, she’s the only one he can really trust among his House.  But he cannot tell even her everything.

***

A worn cloak once again hides Ruel’s glammerweave clothing, and he could pass for any poor face at The Riverside Inn.  A bowl of thick soup and a mug of ale sit nearly untouched before him as his eyes dart around the inn, examining each patron for the tenth time.  A glance out the window shows the sun nearly submerged beneath the mountains.  Doubts eat at the wizard.  She could be out of town or she could have not read the note yet.  Perhaps he should not be doing this at all… he wrestles with the idea of standing up to leave, when he sees another figure shuffle slowly into the inn.

If it were not his mother and were she not wrapped in one of his father’s old cloaks, he would not have recognized her.  In one of her most popular performances she played a woman who dressed as a man to learn more about a man that she had fallen in love with.  Now she had applied similar mannerisms, makeup and hairstyle, which with the concealing cloak, produced an unbelievable disguise.  Ruel cannot help but entertain the thought that no one else here knew they were being treated to a caliber of performance that most would have to pay over a year’s wages to see on the stage.  Ruel settles back down in his seat and takes half-hearted sips of his soup while she slowly makes her way to his table and sits down across from him heavily.  They lock eyes for several long moments before Ishesethe speaks, her voice thick and not with an attempt to conceal her gender.

“Its good… very good to see you again.  Your grandfather got the request for information from the Lyranders, he took care of it but I didn’t hear much else.  Your working on an airship now?”

Before he can respond, a waitress comes to take their order.  Ruel orders the same thing that he has for his mother, bread and soup, while she makes a show of studying the wall.  The waitress takes the order and moves off to the kitchen without a second glance.  Briefly, Ruel scans the inn one more time.  No one seems to be paying them any attention.

“Yes.  Mother, do you remember Paramyx?  He knew I was in Stormhome as soon as I arrived.”

“Paramyx?  Paramyx...  yes I remember.”  Her expression clouds.

“He knew whom I was and what I was trying to do before a day had passed!  How did that happen?”  Ruel’s words come out as more of an accusation than he intends.

Ishesethe reaches a hand out for Ruel’s but he jerks it away, nearly knocking over his ale.  A few patrons glance their way and conscious of that, she scoops up her own ale and drinks a little from it while her eyes fix on her sons.  She speaks quietly when she lowers her drink.

“Ythilus was discreet Ruel.  I don’t know how they knew what you were doing.  We took every precaution, but the eyes of our House are many and some of them are turned inwards.  I was not happy that you left the way you did, but I think you were right to do it.  Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happened?”  She smiles sadly.  “I would like to know what my son has been doing for the past month and a half.”

Ruel deflates with a slow breath, and gradualy starts relating everything that has happened to him since leaving Fairhaven, with some small but notable exceptions.  As he finishes, his mother smiles softly.

“You remind me of your father Ruel, I’m proud of you.”  She sighs slowly and glances behind her.  “I cannot linger any longer.  I want you to contact me in three weeks Ruel, I want you to use the south side sending stone in Lathleer, I have a friend there, her name is Melindra Tanner.  Will you do this for me?“

Ruel’s nod is hesitant, but he reaches out and squeezes her hand.  Her smile is tight as he let’s go and she rises to leave.  Ruel makes a quick series of gestures and mutters a distinct arcane phrase as she turns and slowly ambles out the door, the gestures and arcane phrases disguised in pitch, tone and motion to look like nothing more than grumbling murmurs and restless shifting in his chair.

As the _Message _ spell takes effect, Ruel whispers into his mug.  _“Did you like the flowers?”_

Her voice is clear as day in his ears alone as she replies.  _“Oh yes, very much so.  Ruel, do not forget your heritage.  And stay safe, please be very careful.”_

Ruel ponders her last remarks while leaving payment on the table for their untouched meal, like so many remarks from his extended family, it could mean any number of things.  A few minutes later, he too rises and walks out the door.  Starting down the road towards the dock, he sees a shadowy figure making a quick gesture, as if to throw something his direction.  Reacting quicker he turns and casts a Grease spell under the figure, while running behind a stacked pair of crates.  He hears a muffled curse, a female voice he cannot quite place and feels a dagger sail less than a foot over his head and lodge in the wood above him.  Quickly he yanks the dagger free and turns to sprint down an alley to a busier street, ducking behind foot traffic and weaving his way towards the docks, and the safety of the _Liralen_.

***

Ruel turns the dagger over in his hands.  The quality of the dagger is very high and the distinctive pattern on the handle mark its owner clearly.  His sister Cailya.  He has seen her practicing throwing it more times than he could count.  His mind racing, he remembers his still active Message spell, whispering _“Mother, are you safe?”_

_“Yes dear, why?”

“Where is Cailya?”

“I don’t know, I think she is at home, why?”

“I’is nothing, never mind.”

“Don’t lie to me Ruel, what happened?”_

_“How does she always know?”_  Ruel thinks to himself, and then whispers aloud, _“Cailya, she just attacked me.  She threw a dagger at me but missed, is she still spending a lot of time with Dysinth?”

“Oh, well are you sure she wasn’t just trying to scare you?  You know she does that and she usually hits what she aim...”

“No, mother, this was serious, do you know why Cailya would try and kill me …Mother?  Mother!”_  Ruel curses, the spell must have expired.  He suddenly jabs Cailya’s dagger into the crate behind him.  “Mothers!”  His sudden shout causes a few passerbies to jump.   His thoughts whirl, but he yanks the dagger free and hurries back towards the airship.  Home is no longer safe for him, now more than ever he is certain of that.


----------



## Krafus

So Ruel is of House Phiarlan... It will be interesting to learn why he had to leave, and why his sister is apparently intent on killing him.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #14: Reunion at the Docks*

Elisa fiddles with the gold in her pouch.  So far, working in the employee of House Lyrander has been very profitable.  Fortunato had concocted the idea to sample several dishes of local Fairhaven cuisine, and invited herself and Dox along.  Loki was busy loading cargo on the ship, as was Alexandre.  Audric had elected not to join them and none of them were sure exactly where Ruel went off to.

Fortunato had taken them to several inns and restaurants, ordered several dishes and tasted each one.  He then passed them to herself and Dox, and declared the virtues or ills of each dish while the two of them ate.  They all tasted good to her but Fortunato, she imagines, was designed and built to be a finely tuned, flavor distinguishing man-machine.

It’s still weird having a warforged cooking their meals.

Dox spots Ruel returning to the dock and waves him over.  The wizard joins them, and she stares hard at him.  It looks like he has been running.  He’s sweating and, for a wizard, he’s in pretty decent shape, so that would not come just from walking around.  Either that or he’s nervous.  Dox opens his mouth tospeak, but before he can Ruel takes some money and shoves it into his hands, than her own and Fortunato’s.

“From the items we recovered.  I could not get as good a price as I had hoped, but I still got a decent deal, I assure you.”  She barely hears him, she’s counting the gold and silver he shoved in her hands.

_“If this keeps up, maybe I’ll be able to buy a better sword.  Or maybe have this one enchanted…”_ She thinks as she claps her scabbard fondly and smiles.  _“Very good pay.”_

“Help!”  A distressed shout from a familiar voice draws all their attention.  It takes a moment for Elisa to recognize Elaydren running towards them.  She’s used to seeing her in one of her formal gowns, but she’s in far more casual clothing now.  And she’s bleeding from the arm.  And being pursued by four kobolds!

As Elisa watches, Elaydren jumps out of the way of a clumsy attempt to grab her from one kobold, while whirling away from a spear thrust at her by another.  She sprints towards them and runs behind Dox, struggling for breath she blurts out, “I’m very glad to see you all here!”

Dox, briefly looking torn between twin desires to protect their employer or retreat behind cover, draws his bow and fires at the lead kobold.  The arrow sails over the kobold’s head, who points his spear at him and yips excitedly.  Cursing quietly, he takes a few steps back, apologizing hastily to Elaydren as he bumps into her.

Elisa has her blade free in an instant and gripped in both hands as she moves to intercept that same kobold.  Her teeth grit together and her vision tinges red as she focuses intently at that kobold, focusing all her anger and channeling it into an intense rage.  Her blade comes down in a perfect arc, splitting the kobolds head, chest and torso in two and nearly getting stuck in the dock beneath the unfortunate creature.  She yanks the weapon free and turns her attention to the remaining three kobolds, suddenly looking a great deal more nervous.

From around a corner, a warforged arrives with sword and shield in hand.  It looks at her and the kobolds and yells out “Weak Flesh!” while running towards the fray.  Whether it means her, the kobolds, or her friends behind her, it didn’t really matter to Elisa, she itches to break it with her greatsword.  But the warforged’s arrival does encourage the kobolds to fight her, though not very well, as she deflects each of their timid stabs with powerful strikes from her sword.  In her haste to remove a kobold’s head from shoulders, her blade slashes too high and she has to struggle to yank the weapon free from the side of a wooden outbuilding while they regroup.

Behind her, Fortunato moves into view, drawing sword and shield.  The warforged turns its attention to him and charges into the cook, penetrating his guard and savagely hacking into his armored form, while Fortunato’s answering strike is deflected off of its shield.  A moment later, in a burst of bright light a giant beetle appears behind one of the kobolds and lashes at it with its mandibles, but the agile creature dodges the strike.  A pool of Grease forms under another kobold and the warforged, and both lose their balance on the slick substance.  Elisa barely heard Ruel’s incanting from behind her, but it is apparent the wizard has been busy.

Dox shoots an arrow that lodges in the thigh of one of the two kobolds still on their feet, but Elisa has no intention of letting either of the two keep standing.  Focusing just enough through her battle rage to attack when one of the kobolds is distracted by the beetle, she cuts clean through the gut of that kobold and into the one next to it.  Both slump over dead as she yanks her greatsword free.

Fortunato strikes at the opposing warforged as he struggles to his feet from the _Grease_, hitting it but barely damaging it, as the warforged’s plating seems as tough as Fortunato’s.  A second strike is deflected off the construct’s blade.  The kobold on the ground beneath her manages to both roll away from the beetle’s second strike and thrust his spear up into her leg from the ground.  Elisa briefly admires the skill and surprising courage of the kobold before ending the creature’s life.  The beetle disappears as quickly as it arrived in a brief puff of sweet-smelling smoke.

There are no more opponents to kill immediately beside her.  Ruel is trying to convince the opposing Warforged to back off, and surprisingly, he almost seems to be listening to the entertainer.  As he and Fortunato trade blows, however, Ruel grumbles something about a _Charm _ spell not going to do any good now and he loads his crossbow while Dox ‘safeguards’ Elaydren.  Elisa remembers very well when she and Ruel last fought together on a different dock, and waits until the _Grease _ spell dissipates before maneuvering behind the warforged and slamming her blade home, rending into the warforged’s internals.  From a short distance away, Ruel shoots a small ball of acid at the warforged, further dissolving into its metal skin.  The living construct tries to strike at her, but is unable to break her guard while also deflecting Fortunato’s attack.  Elisa’s answering strike easily breaks through its own guard, however, and the warforged is broken beyond any repairing by the thunderous blow.

Moments later, her battle rage clears and a familiar, almost pleasant feeling of fatigue seeps into her.  She winces as she feels the wound in her leg screaming across her nerves for the first time and leans against her greatsword, still lodged in the warforged.  The rest are staring at her.  She smiles at them.

“Wow!”  Dox says at last, looking back and forth from the warforged to the kobolds.  “You killed them all!”

She shrugs and then yanks her weapon free.  Wrapping an arm around Fortunato’s broad shoulders, she tugs him along with her back towards the _Liralen_.  “Come on Fortunato, let’s go get fixed up.  You too Elaydren, let’s get that arm looked at.”  Both women and the cook move on-ship, heading for the healer’s quarters.

Ruel and Dox watch them a moment, then look at the corpses strewn around them.  They share a look, then smile and set to recovering whatever valuables they can find from the mangled corpses.


----------



## Krafus

> “Come on Fortunato, let’s go get fixed up. You too Elaydren, let’s get that arm looked at.” Both women and the cook move on-ship, heading for the healer’s quarters.




They didn't bother looting, or at least making sure they would get part of the loot, before going off? What kind of adventurers are they? *shakes head*


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## PhoenixAsh

I know, I couldn't believe it!  Thankfully Ruel and Dox were there to take care of what's important.


----------



## tmaaas

DMs Note: 

This encounter was designed to be a bit of action at the start of a session.

It was suppossed to be quick and easy, and that it was. Sometimes it's fun to just mow down your opponents, and Elisa was sure doing that.


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## Black Bard

It was good to see some light over different characters, apart from Ruel and Fortunato.
I`m really enjoying this story, PhoenixAsh! Great writing.
And, once again, congratulations to the DMing-pair!!!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #15: Dinner aboard The Liralen*

Its been way too long since an update!  Thank you for the kind words Black Bard, the next few updates will shed some light on some as of yet under-represented characters in our crew, as well as a plethora of passengers.  One of the youngest members of the crew has gone without mention for a very long time in fact...

***

Ravien d’Lyrander leans back in his chair, appraising the bedraggled Lady Elaydren d’Vown Cannith, her arm freshly bound in a sling by his healers.

“So, with your contact dead, does that mean the mission is lost?  Should I award our services to someone else…?”

“No!  No… but I will need the _Liralen _ to make a second stop, before Fintan was set upon by the kobolds he gave me his journal and he indicates here,” Elaydren almost frantically searches for a page and shows it to him, barely long enough for him to glance at it, before turning to another, “and here that the map to Whitehearth can be found at Rose Quarry by ‘eyes that can see’.”  She holds up a rolled parchment with a confident smile.  “And here is how your expedition team will see.”

Ravien nods slowly as she presents the scroll.  “You will need one of our arcanists in the expedition team then, Ruel or Cynde.  Very well, but you do realize this will increase our account, and I am certain the team will require extra compensation as well.  Are you prepared to do that?”

There is no hesitation in Elaydren’s voice.  “Yes.”

Ravien smiles slowly.  “I will work up the particulars before disembarking here at Fairhaven.  While I am away, Captain D’meryl will put the full services of this ship at your disposal.  Why don’t you go rest and let your arm recover?”

Elaydren smiles but her shoulders slump as she leaves Ravien’s quarters.  This expedition has already cost her affiliation of House Cannith a small fortune.  If it should succeed, the rewards would far outstrip the costs, but should it fail it could destroy her station in Cannith and leave a perhaps fatal hole in House spending for other projects.  She can only hope that her confidence in the _Liralen’s _ crew is not misplaced, everything will rely on their abilities.

***

Following the attack at the dock and hasty explanations to the dockside guard, no doubt smoothed over by the recent actions of the _Liralen’s _ crew, the airship leaves Fairhaven without further incident.  Elisa is soon healed, Fortunato repaired and life and duties onboard ship return to normal.  After some discussion and appraisal, Dox and Ruel decide to give the warforged assailant’s sword to Fortunato, as it is of finer quality than the cook’s previous blade.  The rest comes to a trivial amount that is split amidst the whole group.

Dinnertime comes with the setting of the sun, and the dining hall fills with the distinguished passengers aboard the _Liralen_, some fresh faces that joined the airship in Fairhaven.  Alexandre balances a trio of trays on his arms and maneuvers out the door, barely avoiding Ruel as he breaks from his performance routines in search of a glass of water.  “Not too much different from trying to tie off a mast in a heavy storm, though I had sea water to deal with, not half-elves prancing in my way.  Ah well, the food and pay is better, though this blasted uniform itches like a hornet’s nest.  Now let’s see, ladies first, then the gentlemen, old before young…” Alexandre muses as he moves to set out steaming trays on one table of distinguished guests.

He decides that the only elf at the table deserves the first tray.  She beams a motherly smile up to him.  _“Even a young elf has to be older than this lot...” _ Alexandre reasons silently, smiling back to her.  _“Elves must always end up getting served first.”_

Elaydren is next, still looking pale from being attacked less than an hour ago.  He slides a bowl of stew beneath her chin and listens closely as a gnome badgers her with questions.

“Rumor has it you had a rather nasty brush dockside.”  The gnome, Fflewdwr Tegvan, is from the Korranberg library and he peers anxiously at Elaydren through thick circular lenses that give him a permanent owlish look.

“Yes, I had a run in with a rougher contingent of society than I am used to.  Several crew members came to my aid though, and I believe the matter is now in the hands of officals in Fairhaven.”

“Ah, yes, our noble crew.  They do seem to have a more adventurous spirit than most.  The ship should do well for the line of work Ravien intends.  I can’t wait to see it head to the Xen’drik excavations.  A ship like this could do an astonishing amount of work for the library.”

“Have you secured a contract with Lord Ravien?”  As Alexandre sets a dish before the gnome, he hears the elf speak.  She’s a new arrival from Fairhaven, but he remembers her introducing herself when he took her bags, full of various clays and metals as well as sculpting tools, Erma.

Fflewdwr winces, “No, actually, I haven’t yet, and I hadn’t counted on his absence from the ship.  But with the prestige of the library backing me I’m sure we will be able to work something out.  I do hear that others, though, have secured contracts…” Fflewdwr inclines his head towards Elaydren, “Elaydren has yet to confide what chore she has set before the Master Ravien, but it has obviously caught his fancy, while at the same time making all of us insatiably curious.”

Uncharacteristically, Elaydren remains silent, concentrating on her stew.  Alexandre supposes she must still be shaken up from getting attacked on the dock.  It is Erma who decides to break the silence, turning the conversation in a different direction.

“The great library of Korranberg is in Zilargo, is it not?”

“Yes, it is, Ermineth.”

“Call me Erma, please.  Zilargo is a fascinating land, I’m told – I’ve never had the opportunity to travel there.  Tell me, what do you know of the Trust?”

“Ha!  Well, there is a lot of speculation on that topic and very little fact.  Khorvaire is perched precariously after the war.  There are a slew of secret organizations working to further this cause or that.  Aundair has its ‘eyes’, Breland has its ‘Dark Lanterns’, and Zilargo has the ‘Trust’.  It’s almost certain that the organizations exist, but I do think they are probably romanticized and their activities expanded by rumors rather than reality.  Nothing seems quite as enchanting as a good spy story from time to time.”

Erma nods and smiles, then directs a comment towards a man in his late thirties whose hair is slowly receding.  “And I don’t believe I’ve met you yet, sir?”

The man shrugs a little; his attention is clearly on the entertainment, not the conversation at the table.  “My name’s Jasper Pauncefort, pleased to meet you ma’am.”

“Ermineth Cremix d’Phiarlan – Erma to my friends – I’m headed back home to Sharn.  I had the wonderful opportunity to work on some sculpture in Fairhold.  It’s been a good stay, but I’m ready to see the city of towers once more.  And your business?”

“Oh, I, um, I’m headed to Sharn too.  I’m looking for employees for my inn.  I, um, need to find a good chef.  Preferably from House Ghallanda.  The good one on the island are all employed by rival inns – so I thought I’d try my luck in a larger city.”

“Very good!  I have some connections in the city – look me up and I may be able to get in touch with some folks who can help you.”

“Oh thanks, I may do that – I have a brother there too – so I may be able to work things from that direction too.”

Alexandre leaves the conversation behind as he returns for more trays, skirting past Kashandi while she performs on her harp, which he and Loki had set up before dinner began.  Retrieving another set of trays, he exits the kitchen to polite applause as Kashandi concludes her playing.  She exits back to the kitchen as Ruel emerges, neither giving the other so much as a nod, as Ruel resumes the evening’s entertainment.

Coming to the Captain’s table, Alexandre glowers.  Niall Goldsmith, an obnoxious, arrogant man and another recent arrival from Fairhaven, is leading a conversation with Lady Adsiltia, a member of the Brelish parliament.  Niall had seen fit to personally direct and badger him and the rest of the crew as they loaded his belongings onboard, criticizing every bump and stumble on the way.  He’s directing questions at Adsiltia that seems to be throwing her off of her good humor, and her easy, pleasant smile is tightening.

“I believe Lord Ruken is very earnest in his beliefs, my own position on what he has to say is as yet undetermined, although I can say with perfect certainty that I hope those choices are not soon set before the nation of Breland.  King Boranel is well loved and his health is fine.  He is a strong man, a great fighter, and a great ruler.”  Adsiltia’s voice is iron, and Alexandre has no doubt of her loyalty to her king.  She seems discomfited about the question though – lapsing into silence and studying the foot on her plate intently.

Niall opens his mouth to ask another question, but gets distracted by Errol, the ship’s cabin boy, who has come up quietly behind the Captain.  As the cabin boy touches D’Meryl’s elbow, Niall scowls darkly at him.

“Sir, Officer Travyl sent me.  The weather is lowering and the winds are growing stronger.  He wished to ask if you wanted to continue on our current heading, or if he should try to go round the storm?”

“Tell him to maintain our current course, and I’ll check in with him directly after the meal.”

“Yes sir.”  Errol takes his leave of the captain quickly, exiting the passenger dining area.

“Where did Lord Ravien pick up that street trash!” there is a note of outrage in Niall Goldsmith’s voice.  “I expected that you would have been outfitted with a proper crew, Captain, but the more I look around…” Niall nods, none too discreetly at Alexandre, who is half tempted to ‘accidentally’ dump Niall’s stew into his lap.  “I am certain that the crew here are little more than cutthroats and bandits – and that boy certainly has a poor look about him.”

D’meryl is more polite than Alexandre would be.  “I know no better judge of character than Lord Ravien and I’d gladly sail with any crew he has picked.  He chose well for the ultimate purpose of this ship – as you know, we will not always be carrying passengers with such refined tastes as yourselves.  If we were venturing into the heart of Xen’drik on this flight perhaps our crew would seem more suitable.  Errol, is from the streets of Stormhome, but the boy is learning the role he has onboard as quick as any child of better circumstance.”

Niall gives a loud, somewhat obnoxious snort.  “Hrrmph!  Expedition ship or not – I know the first person I’d suspect if my purse were to go missing is that boy!  As for the rest the crew around here – well, I’ll sleep much better once I’m off this cramped piece of wood.”

D’meryl seems to be at a loss, but is saved from immediate reply when the Princess of Aundair looks up from her food and states dryly, “The kid’s cute, anyways.”

The captain smiles at this and almost laughs – “Aye, Errol will turn the head of more than one portside lass in a few years.”

Wrel, pauses for awhile and looks back down at her plate, but looking back up and seeing the Captain’s face still tinged with genuine humor, asks, “Captain D’meryl, you have griffon riders onboard, don’t you?”

“Yes that we do.  Maddy and Gemma are some of the best!”

“Could I ride one of the griffons?”

The Captain’s humor fades and he clears his throat.  “Well griffons are pretty particular about their riders – it takes several years of training to keep from being unseated mid-flight.  So in light of the fact that your sister would have my head if anything happened to you – I can’t let you ride one of the beasts.”  The hopeful gleam in Wrel’s eye extinguishes quickly and the girl lets out a slow sigh.  “But I can take you and your entourage on a tour of the stables after this storm passes; introduce you to the riders, and perhaps get them to show you a lesson or two with the overgrown birds.”  Wrel shifts a little straighter in her seat.  D’meryl looks the teen squarely in the eye and present his last statement with a fatherly firmness.  “If I can gain your word that you won’t try anything foolhardy or against their wishes.”

Wrel nods her head in acceptance and gives the Captain the faintest hint of a smile.

Alexandre removes himself from the table, with promises to Niall Goldsmith about reprimanding the cook for overcooked meat, over-salted broth, and undercooked vegetables and heads towards the kitchen.  Ruel stops him part way and whispers, “Stay away from that table, or at least keep your mind from wandering, Goldsmith is invoking _Detect Thoughts _ and I do not think you want him catching anything snide.”  Ruel departs quickly to begin another routine by the central table in the dining hall.

Upon returning to wait that same table, between maintaining correct dinner decorum, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering and from getting anywhere close to Goldsmith, while trying to recall all the dark thoughts he had of the man, Alexandre barely catches any of the conversation, except something about the _Liralen _ going to fail because of too much red marble on board.  Certain he misheard the conversation; he returns to the kitchen and leans up against the counter, dipping a finger in freshly made custard and giving it a thoughtful taste.  Recalling his promise, he barks out to the head chef everyone calls ‘Meat’, “Hey Meat! Goldsmith says your stew tastes like crap!”


----------



## Micah

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> He decides that the only elf at the table deserves the first tray.  She beams a motherly smile up to him.  _“Even a young elf has to be older than this lot...” _ Alexandre reasons silently, smiling back to her.  _“Elves must always end up getting served first.”_




 That's just too funny.


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## Black Bard

Great writing, Phoenix Ash! I really liked your description of the dinner scene..
Can`t wait for more!!!


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## Krafus

Wonderful writing. So Goldsmith isn't just an annoyance, he's a spellcasting annoyance. I hope some bird shits on him. Or better yet, that he accidently falls overboard on some dark stormy night.


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## Micah

Oh he is annoying that's for sure. He came on board insisting that he should be given Adal's quarters since he was there on the prince's behalf. Made quite a scene about it too since Ravien had just moved Adsiltia there. He likes to bully people about and was somewhat taken aback when Ravien and D'meryl didn't bow and cater to his whims. 

Ravien placed him in the guest suite - that was the last place Adal resided on the ship (while the windows were being repaired in the royal suite). Less than two hours later Wrel and her warfoged entourage/bodyguards/babsitters showed up and there was no doubt as to who would get the royal suite. So Niall was quite out of sorts by dinner.

It was one thing to be upstaged by the Brelish noblewoman - that he could work himself into a rage about, but to be booted out of his quarters by that prank-pulling wet behind the ears niece of Aurala's was an annoyance that he couldn't show as much in public. He was, after all, supposed to be a loyal subject to the crown.

But the real fun part is when Niall ticks Elisa off. . . .


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## Black Bard

Hey, PheonixAsh!! Wil we ever get another update???   
This storyhour is just GREAT, so come on, don't let your readers down...


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update*

Phew, your right BlackBard I have been neglecting my readers here!  Other projects, girlfriend, work, blah blah blah... excuses, I know.   

Next update will be Thursday at the latest.  And it features a good ol' fashioned bar fight!

Thanks for the compliment and the bump!


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## Micah

I remember that bar fight. That's going to be a tough one to hammer out. There was a ton of stuff happening. Although I do remember some neat comments from Audric. . . and Dox was involved as well - or at least I remember him creating new drinks at the bar for some of the patrons. That may or may not have contributed to what happened in the end.

As for the distractions - we like the girlfriend. Here's to the day when the readers get to meet the Liralen's newest crew member!


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #16: Drinks Above Decks and Trouble Below*

Okay so Thursday was ambitous.     Well, its a long update at least!  I'm going to make an effort to update more regularly for awhile, as I am falling behind in keeping up with our sessions.

***

Audric sits patiently at the bar onboard the _Liralen_, nursing a thin mug of ale that Dox had heavily watered down for him, on his own insistence.  There are times that order must be maintained without the heavy hand of mail-clad guards present.  At that he had specialized, and had made a comfortable living at the Redmoon Hospice back in Stormhome, while aiding its owners, the Vidari’s, in their charitable work with orphans.  He drew a great deal of satisfaction from his work there.

That had all changed when the Vidari’s decided to hold a benefit concert with the flood of talented performers that had come to Stormhome to audition for posts aboard the _Liralen_.  Telmuth Vidari d’Ghallanda had even arranged not only the performers hired for the _Liralen_, Ruel and Kashandi, but the Harpist of Cyre, a legendary if somewhat elusive performer in his own time, to perform at the concert.  The profits had been exceptional, and even included the donation of an antique beacon from House Cannith, the very first everburning light for the shipping interests in Stormhome, which Audric knew had touched the Vidari’s deeply.  None of it went to the orphanage, however.

The Lightstone and all the gold collected from the concert were stolen, taken from Helm Vidari as he was about to lock them away within the inn’s safe.  Worse still than the loss of profits, the Vidari’s had to pay the considerable costs of the concerts in wages, equipment and rentals out of their own pockets.  Stormhome officials investigated the matter, but Audric had no intention of leaving the matter to the disinterested authorities.  One of the orphans, a young shifter named Chet, had approached him and offered to help track down the criminal, and he gladly accepted his aid.

The trail had led to the _Liralen_, a ticket booth and the gangplank to the airship.  When they had tried to board the Lyrander guards had denied them.  They had no authority there and when they brought their case to the local officials, they had delayed sending a scent dog to the same task, and the trail was ruined and the lead left unchecked.  Audric had not allowed that to stop him and had convinced Ravien d’Lyrander to allow him onboard as part of the crew, masquerading as a passenger in his familiar role as a discreet guard.

He performs his duty for House Lyrander, but at all times keeps a close eye on the passengers and crew.  None of them have slipped, yet, but he is certain that the gold and everburning beacon are still onboard, probably in the hands of one of the wealthy passengers, whose quarters he has not yet been able to search.  He had dissembled his purpose to Ruel, and the performer had agreed to help him should the opportunity arise, but several divination spells had failed to provide any information both onboard and in Stormhome by authorities.

Tonight he is watching over a few of the female merchants playing cards, mostly keeping to themselves and sipping daintily from tall glasses of wine, and a few far more boisterous individuals, involved in an escalating drinking game.  He recognizes Bligh Kelmin d’Denith, an odd, burly individual to find aboard a ship like this, dressed in furs and leathers along with his hobgoblin friend Uuka Thaktu, and one of the dwarven merchants, Seaghan MacCune, involved in the game, all getting more loud and rowdy by the moment.

“Dox, don’t you think they have had enough?”

“Ah, let them have a good time!  I’m not going to earn my pay peddling the odd bottle of mid-grade wine to those three card players, I may get enough for a bonus if…”

Dox trails off and looks to the side door, drawing Audric’s gaze as well.  Princess Wrel ‘ir Wynarn strolls into the bar with a confident, almost defiant look at them.  Her usually omnipresent Warforged sentinels are nowhere to be found behind her.  She takes a seat at one of the empty tables, stealing glances at the bar occasionally.

“Do you see that Audric, see the way she’s looking at me?  I think she likes me!”

Audric rolls his eyes.  “She’s probably just going to try and sweet talk you into giving her a drink.”  Dox’s eyes light up and he opens his mouth, but Audric cuts him off before the idea takes voice.  “Don’t even think about it.”

“Hey you!  Yeah you, c’mere I want to get a look at you!”  A drunken shout interrupts the pair’s conversation again, this time in the opposite direction from Bligh.  Denneth ‘ir Lain, a young noble, seems to have coaxed the cabin boy into the bar.  Moving towards Wrel’s table, the pair has been detained by the drunken Bligh, who has a deathgrip on Errol’s jacket.

Denneth backs away towards the corner as Errol struggles, violently.  “Let me go, you’ll rip it, let go!”  The bow thrashes and claws at the gripping hand, which only angers Bligh more.  “Hold still kid, I said I wanta look at you.  Hold still!”  The jacket rips partly and buttons fly out across the bar.  Errol’s features, already rough, start shifting, turning downright feral as he snarls and bares his teeth up at the man.

Audric is up in a flash, moving quickly over to the pair.  He shouts loudly over the growing din in the small bar at the drunken man, “Let’s forget about all this, I’ll buy you a drink.”  The man ignores him.  Waiting only a second for the right opportunity, the agile monk slides in and grips the man’s furs at the shoulder, punching him squarely across the jaw.  “I said, I’ll buy you a drink!”

This gets Bligh’s attention in no uncertain terms.  Releasing Errol, he glares down at the monk, a foot shorter than him and nowhere near as stocky.  He tries to grab him, but the slippery monk ducks the clumsy attempt and twists the man’s arm back, drawing a grunt of pain even through the man’s drunken stupor.  “Free drink, or you’re out the door, your choice!”  Once again Audric tries to make the man see reason.

Meanwhile, the whole bar has erupted into chaos.  Two of the three women have backed off from their table, while the third, Jewell d’Lyrander, is frantically scooping up her winnings.  Wrel scampers towards the bar, looking to crawl under the counter and reach the relative safety of Dox’s area.  The changling’s grin at the idea of sharing his space with the princess falls as one of her warforged bodyguards bursts through the door.  Without preamble, he moves over to Wrel and hoists her by the collar, dragging her bodily out of the bar with her kicking and screaming all of the way.

Turning back to the fight, Dox catches Audric’s free drink offer and perks back up, quickly fixing a mug of ale and sliding it down the counter.  “Free drink on the rail!”  Unfortunately, Bligh is not listening to reason or the offer of more alcohol.

Bligh’s companions, Uuka and Seaghan are laughing at Bligh as he swings multiple times at the monk, but each punch is deflected or avoided with ease by his sober opponent.  The man lunges at Audric, trying to tackle him, but the monk simply rolls and turns Bligh’s momentum against him, flinging him onto the card table just as Jewell finishes collecting her winnings and scampers away, breaking the table and sending the other two women’s money flying every which way.  Bligh groans and tries to lift himself up, but collapses back with a grunt.  A moment later, he is snoring loudly.  His friends, still guffawing loudly at him, eventually get up and drag him unsteadily off to his cabin while the two remaining women sort through their scattered coin.

Audric takes a deep breath and slumps back down in his bar stool.  Dox smirks at him.  “I don’t think the management will be too happy about that table, but nicely done.  You made him look quite the fool.”

Dox’s attention is drawn to Errol standing stock still at the edge of the tavern, his face pinched and white. The bartender motions the boy over, “Why don’t you go below decks now?” The bartender inquires gently.  Errol bites his lip, and looks down at the ruined fabric on the front of his jacket. The smooth weave and rich design have been an incredible change from the rags he’d worn on the street. “The Bosun’ll knock me good for this.” The boy mumbles, near tears at the ruin of his uniform. Fendrik wouldn’t strike the boy, but Dox knows the _Liralen’s _ cabin boy has had a rough life in the city streets, and why he would think that way.

Dox cants his head.  “Well… maybe you could go see Ruel?  He helped fix those windows we broke in the royal quarters with his magic, I’ll bet a jacket would be easy for him.”

Errol brightens and nods, shooting out the door for the lower decks.

***

Ruel focuses intently between his spellshards, spellbook and hastily scribbled notes and formulae.  The library is the perfect place for his studies, far better than his cramped and noisy quarters, and offers perfect isolation tonight.  At least it did, as gradually Ruel perceives that someone is watching him.  Intently watching him.  Looking over the library he is startled to find Errol directly behind his shoulder.  A mixture of worry and fascination play in the lad’s face as he surveys Fredrick, the wizard’s toad familiar, perched atop Ruel’s spellbook.  Errol shifts his gaze to the entertainer.

“Ruel, my jacket, its torn!  Can you fix it, please?”

While it seems a trivial matter to him, Ruel’s initial frustration at being interrupted melts and he smiles.  “Of course.”  He incants briefly and touches the torn ends of the fabric together, the threads re-sowing under threads of magic, and the fabric mends, good as new.

“There you are, no need for tears.”  He tousles the boy’s hair and returns to look over his notes once more.  As moments pass and the feeling that the cabin boy’s eyes are boring into the back of his head does not abate, he sighs and turns around again.

“I’m missing the buttons, all four of the buttons.  Ruel, the Bosun is going to think I lost them… or stole them!”

Ruel shakes his head and packs up his notes, spellshards and spellbook, gathering all of them into his pack.  “I will get your buttons.”

“You won’t tell him…”

“No, of course not.”  Ruel pauses just a moment, freeing a glass vial from a pouch on his belt.  “Here, it is time for Fredrick’s dinner, how about you feed him?”  Errol grins and sets about feeding the wizard’s familiar, reveling in the darting action of the toad’s tongue.  Ruel shakes his head, and is gone for a matter of minutes before returning with four new buttons acquired from the Bosun.  “There you are, I trust you can sew them back on?”

The boy nods and scurries off with only a bright grin as a thank you.  Ruel sits back down and unpacks his notes and equipment again as Fredrick hops back up on the table to watch the wizard.

“Why do I keep helping that boy Fredrick?”

The toad croaks and Ruel shakes his head with a small smile.

***

Elisa returns from her evening watch on the royal deck, stretching her legs with a slow sigh.  A quiet night onboard the _Liralen_.  As she approaches her quarters she pauses, listening.  There are quiet footsteps inside the crew quarters and no light from under the door.  She hears a thump and a muffled curse that does not sound like any of the crew.  “Maybe not so quiet,” she thinks as she slowly and silently unsheathes her greatsword.  With a mighty kick she bashes in the door to the crew cabin and charges in, sword held high in both hands.


----------



## Krafus

An update at last! And an entertaining one at that... Heh heh, Ruel has a soft side. And I wonder what Elisa will find behind the crew cabin? Guess we'll find out in the next update. Good work, PhoenixAsh.


----------



## Micah

*character backstories*

When we started this campaign, we encouraged the players to come up with a backstory. I think tmaaas dangled a DM customized feat to match story details as a perk for those who did it. 42NAT0's bodyguard template was a part of that. Loki's player also came up with a great backstory and recently Alexandre has divulged information as to his past. 

However both PhoenixAsh and Audric's player blew me away with the detail (And number of plot hooks) present in their histories. Before and during our first couple of sessions a lot was hammered out via email. The result was that we were able to tailor the game. In addition to that I found that my responses to their e-mails were creating a host of NPC's, political and criminal tensions, friends and enemies before we even started the game.

When the Liralen left Stormehome in our second session, it was leaving a pretty well-developed game stage. 

Backstories are wonderful DM tools!


----------



## Pflume

*good story*

I wonder how this will all turn out.  So far they have not crashed the ship but....


----------



## Micah

Good to see you on the boards Pflume!  

Who knows - someday it just might go down. . . . have you reconsidered purchasing that ring of featherfalling yet?


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

I love how much backstory went into this game.

So what level were the characters when you first started?


----------



## PhoenixAsh

I typically do a couple pages of background for my characters in any game, but I wrote a LOT more than that for Ruel.  The character concept and the world really appealed, and Micah and Tmaas gave us a lot of great background in the world to work with... I couldn't resist.  

Portions of this storyhour come from email back and forth between myself and Micah... Ruel getting attacked by his sister, for instance.  Ruel and Errol have a bit of history as well, which is largely why he has a soft side for him.  There is a lot that I (regretfully) have had to omit.  Maybe as the storyhour develops and if you, the readers, are interested, I will include some of it.  Obviously it is very Ruel-centric stuff.   

MavrickWeirdo, welcome aboard, thanks for reading!  We started at 2nd level.

And Pflume, I'd say welcome aboard to you as well, but you already are on board.  

What foul villanry is behind the crew cabin door?  Will Elisa hack it to pieces??  Stay tuned!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #17: A Secret Admirer*

Bursting inside the crew quarters, Elisa finds a middle-aged, balding man hiding behind her footlocker, his eyes wide as dinner plates.  The trunk has a piece of paper wedged in its seam, which he quickly snatches free and clutches tightly in one hand.  

Elisa stares down Jasper Pauncefort, slowly dropping her greatsword so the point of the weapon is directed between Jasper's eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just... um... passing through... I was looking for the, uh... you see I got lost..."

"What's that?"  Elisa's eyes swivel sharply to the paper.

Jasper's features lose what little color they have remaining.  "N…nothing!"

"Give it to me!"

Shakily, Jasper hands the paper up to the guardswoman as she withdraws her weapon, holding it loosely and at the ready in one hand.  She scans it quickly, seeing nothing but gibberish. *

"C…can I have it back now, please?"  Jasper's shaky voice draws a glare from the barbarian.

"No.  I'm keeping this.  For now.”  As Jasper opens his mouth to protest, she silences him sharply.  “I may have to show it to the captain."  Elisa's tone brokers no argument, and Jasper's pale brow breaks into a cold sweat.

"You're not really going to show it to the captain are you?"  Jasper's voice is a high squeak.

"I'm not sure, yet."  Elisa gestures sharply with her chin towards the door.  "You shouldn't be here, get back to your quarters."

Jasper scrambles to his feet and warily circles the guardswoman until he reaches the doorframe.  He clutches it as he looks timidly back at her, "When can I have it back?"

"An hour or so.  If I don't find anything suspicious."  Jasper looks confused momentarily, but shuffles out the door under Elisa’s withering glare.

Elisa looks at the note again, musing to herself.  "Why would he want to put this in my locker?  I wonder if it’s dangerous..." Moving in the opposite direction of Jasper, she climbs up a narrow stair to find Audric walking towards the kitchen.

Quickly she moves up to him, shoving the note in his hands.  "Audric, what does this say?"

The monk raises an eyebrow, but un-crumples the note and scans it slowly.  "Its... poetry.  Love poetry.  It’s signed by Jasper, that’s the innkeeper isn’t it, the one looking for a new cook?”

Elisa's eyes bulge.  "Gods, but, but he's… old!"

Audric cants his head.  "Are you certain it’s for you?  It does not quite... describe you.  It seems to be for someone more, delicate."

"But he was putting it in my locker!"

"Perhaps he made a mistake."  Audric searches for a moment for a proper way to phrase his response.  "It seems very likely."

Elisa seems oblivious to any implied slight to her feminine charms.  "Can you talk to him?  Ask him who it's for?"

Audric shakes his head.  "The passengers are not to know that I am working with you.  You'll have to find someone else."

Elisa grunts and strides off down the hall.

***

Ruel leans back in his chair, intensely concentrating on the arcane equations in the leather-bound tome cradled in his lap.  Errol’s interruption is all but forgotten as he engrosses himself in the heavy tome.  Fredrick croaks.  “Hmm, what was tha… agh!”

A sudden heavy hand on his shoulder draws a started yelp from the wizard.  He looks up to see Elisa slapping a note down on the table in front of him.

"Jasper Pauncefort wrote this.  I need you to take it back to him and find out who it’s for, now."

Hastily the wizard packs up his supplies for the second time this night and silently curses the continued interruptions to his studies, all the while under the impatient and watchful eyes of the barbarian guardswoman.

***

Ruel smirks as he reads the poetry; just about the poorest attempt at romantic verse he’s ever seen.  He does not find Jasper in his quarters, but it is not long before the entertainer finds the writer pacing in the _Liralen’s _ expedition room and quickly folds the note back up in one hand.  The innkeeper looks nervous, as anyone encountering Elisa's greatsword has a right to be.  Ruel affects a friendly smile and approaches him slowly, clearing his throat to draw the man’s attention.

"Elisa asked me to return this to you, with her apologies.  She is just a touch over-zealous when it comes to protecting the ship, you understand."

Jasper smiles hopefully and hastily retrieves the note.  "So... she did not give it to the captain?"

"No, of course not.  And it will remain a private matter between the three of us, I assure you.  But tell me, what do you see in her?  I mean, just between you and me, she's rather intimidating and…. rough around the edges, if you take my meaning."

Jasper laughs loudly, overcome with relief.  "Oh no, no, I agree, she is very… frightening.  It wasn't meant for her."

Ruel nods sagely.  "Ah, yes I thought I recognized you as a man of sense.  And just who are you trying to woo my friend?"

Jasper smiles shyly.  "Kashandi."

***

*Of course, being a barbarian and illiterate, Elisa couldn't actually read the love note.


----------



## tmaaas

Ah, yes. Jasper Pauncefort (yes, he does look like his name...), Kashandi, a love note, and now... Ruel. Doesn't take much to see where this is all heading, now, does it?


----------



## Micah

To be fair - I never intended to entangle Ruel in that exchange. I had planned for Loki and Elissa to run across some of the visitors belowdecks. Loki's player didn't make it that week and Elissa was a basic fighter still being tweaked and refined. I was quite surprised too when she couldn't read the note. I was even more surprised when she asked Ruel for help. I did spend several moments in stunned silence as PhoenixAsh found a way to get Jasper to confide in him. . . .


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

Micah said:
			
		

> To be fair - I never intended to entangle Ruel in that exchange. I had planned for Loki and Elissa to run across some of the visitors belowdecks. Loki's player didn't make it that week and Elissa was a basic fighter still being tweaked and refined. I was quite surprised too when she couldn't read the note. I was even more surprised when she asked Ruel for help. I did spend several moments in stunned silence as PhoenixAsh found a way to get Jasper to confide in him. . . .




Personally I think it works better the way it played out (or at least funnier.)


----------



## Black Bard

*Up with this airship!!!*

Bump!


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

Anyone eLse feEling stoRy withDrall?


----------



## Micah

*Bad guys on the move. . . .*

Well, I'm not PhoenixAsh - but perhaps I can stave off the cold chills for a few hours for the addictees 






He read the report one last time, putting off the inevitable. The Healers hadn’t been able to get near the prisoner until he passed out from loss of blood. Even then the members of House Jorasco had only been saved by the intervening bars between them.

Currently the local law hadn’t been successful in any interrogation techniques. They might as well be questioning a caged wild cat. But that was about to change. He looked at the request lists for spell components. Someone would soon be getting answers.

Every step down the long stone hall brought bile into his mouth. Worry and uncertainty had been a part of his life for a long time, but this was something he’d dreaded for a long time. The culmination of many fears.

Trying to keep his mind from what he had to do, he concentrated instead on a calm demeanor. Hopefully his face wouldn’t reflect the knotting he felt in his gut. 

Yet he either managed to cover his agitation well or the guard, upon seeing a familiar face to chat with for a few moments, simply didn’t notice anything other than a preoccupation somewhere outside of the regular jailhouse gossip. After a few nerve-wracking moments he was on his way down the dark corridor to solitary confinement.

His heart was racing, the need to vomit felt stronger, and he was sweating profusely by the time he got there. The figure on the cot sprang towards the bars the long arms and clawed hands reaching through trying to grasp him. Out of reach, but startled, his stomach took control for a minute.

There was a sick gleam of triumph in the eyes of the prisoner. He had sensed the fear quite easily and exulted in it. “You went to ground at a most inconvenient time!” the prisoner growled. The voice was feral and menacing. “You betrayed us!”

His own voice when it came, quavered, “Hush – not here, listen carefully. I wouldn’t be within a thousand miles if I’d betrayed you. Rather it’s bound to be the other way around at this point.”

The prisoner lunged in anger once more against the bars. “I would not tell your kind anything!”

“You might not have a choice in the matter. There are magical compulsions that will be brought into play. Now listen carefully and control you wrath. You’ll have your revenge against me in a moment. . . ”

He bitterly explained the rest of what his plan was. “Remember your loss if you injure me beyond healing. And remember to kill the guard – He’s the only one who knows that I took the cell block key.”

His hand shook as he took the key from his cloak. 
There was a low growl of something akin to laughter behind the bars. “I am going to enjoy causing you pain. The question is, face, or stomach first?”

The prisoner was taunting him, playing with his fear. He almost lost his nerve at that point. There was the safety of the cell between them yet. Yet the consequences for not following through . . . his freedom and most likely his life. He gave up trying to shakily fit the key in the lock and threw it through the bars. Long clawed fingers snatched it immediately and gently worked it into the lock. . . .


----------



## Micah

Hmm - not like our storyhour author to not reply to bumps.

And I should've gotten at least a shudder from my last post - seeing Ruel was instrumental in jailing our friend.



My guess is vacation/spring break has PhoenixAsh away. . . .




When the authors away the DM's will play. . . . what fun we could have here - especially today.  

Hey Pflume - want to write up an account of the airship crash?


----------



## Pflume

Writing is not my style. Coming up with materal for others, on the other hand is


----------



## PhoenixAsh

The next part is in the works, no date/time promises yet (since I can't seem to keep to them), but it should be soon.  The Liralen crew will find itself in the midst of a minor mystery... and will have a very limited time to solve it before something disasterous happens to the youngest member of the crew.

Oh and of course Ruel will continue to cause havoc for the ship's other entertainer.   

***

Micah was just telling me last night during one of our sessions that Ruel has developed the longest list of enemies out of any of the PCs so far (Joy!).  That sounds like one of the earlier ones, though Ruel's involvement in the situation was somewhat remote.  If I suspect correctly, that too may have disasterous consequences for the youngest member of the crew...

...though just as likely, it was an April Fool's prank.   

If you're not careful Micah, I'll have to write up about how Ruel and Errol met.  And I'll have to write about Errol's former boss...


----------



## Micah

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> ...though just as likely, it was an April Fool's prank.




It started as an April Fool's prank, but given the general reception last night we'll just say that there happens to be one more nasty on the loose. 



			
				PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> If you're not careful Micah, I'll have to write up about how Ruel and Errol met.  And I'll have to write about Errol's former boss...




Hmm - for the life of me the biggest fear I'd have there is sidetracking you from the regular storyhour. I simply can't remember anything too incriminating about Joseph, other than, well that he's a criminal.


----------



## Pflume

The web life weaves. Will one of Rurl's many ememies get us (I mean the party) killed, or will it be  some other big nasty (maybe the crew will just crush the ship).
I have an unrelated question, does anybody know how to get a really big, heavy object though a small door?  
Well before the DM's get upset......


----------



## Micah

Pflume - I'd never object to any ideas given here. (Pflume plays Alexandre for those curious.)

I can prepare for those clever plans that I know about ahead of time.  


Heh, I knew nothing would drive you crazier than that much platinum in a place that you can't get it out of. . . . even lots of action points won't be solving this dilemma.


----------



## Pflume

Hay, It was just a Hypothetical problem :\ (petty big word for a guy who cann't spell). You never know where your go to get until you get there, and then only sometimes.(and only if you do not take a left turn in Albuquerque).  

Thanks for giving away my alter ego


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #18: An Obnoxious Victim*

So update soon turned out to not be so 'soon'.  I think I owe the following disclaimer to readers: Storyhour is subject to chaotic runs of update.

But this storyhour will definetly not be laid to rest!  This particular section is one of the more difficult ones for me to write, which has had as much to do with the long delay as anything.

Anyways, enough with the excuses, here's the next update and I'm already at work on the next!   

Oh, and thanks again to Mysie, who continues to make writing this much easier than it would be otherwise.

***

Entertainer wizards of House Phiarlan do not take an idle approach to the performing or the arcane arts.  Any prospective wizard’s days are spent in rigorous vocal, kinetic, and performance exercise, while their nights are spent in intense arcane study.  Half-elves, already rare in the House, are rarer still in the program, forced into a far more accelerated program than full-blooded elves, and with fewer waking hours, only a handful have completed the program in its long history.  Ruel’s completion of the program was no small feat.

The discipline and focus that imparted pays unforeseen dividends, and what would have otherwise broken Ruel’s placid, genuine expression barely twitches a muscle in his jaw.  

“You know, this is good, but I can help you make it great.”

Jasper’s interest is piqued and the he soon has the love note to the _Liralen’s _ other entertainer in hand, with a promise to ‘refine’ and ‘discreetly’ deliver the note to Kashandi’s possession.  Ruel smirks as he considers the proper verses for his rival.

***

The _Liralen’s _ next port of call is the city of Bluevine, currently in the midst of a summer festival.  Most of the passengers and crew depart to enjoy the event, with some exceptions.  Loki and Alexandre remain behind to haul in the food and goods the ship’s quartermaster acquires from the local markets, while some of the guards remain to watch over the ship, including Elisa.  Fortunato remains onboard as well, keeping the kitchen open while inventorying the new foodstuffs brought onboard. 

Elisa sighs restlessly as she paces the ship’s holds.  The sights and smells of the festival dangle just out of reach, and she will get only a scant couple of hours to enjoy them. Worse yet, Vijaya d’Jorasco has insisted on checking her wound from the fighting with the kobolds and warforged.  Elisa’s protests at the healer’s mothering fell on deaf ears.

The distinctive thunk of a projectile striking one of the target boards in the sparring room draws her attention. Coming around to the door she sees the hobgoblin, Uuka, taking in some target practice with his throwing daggers. Elisa watches Uuka line up a throw and toss it, the blade sinking deeply in the target, dead on the bull’s eye.

“What’s going on?” Elisa calls out by way of introduction. 

Uuka sneers as he moves forward and yanks his daggers free, inspecting the target with satisfaction.  He walks several paces back from the target and looks at Elisa with a smirk, before lining up another toss.  “It stinks up there.  I am getting some… fresh air.”  

“Why aren’t you enjoying the festival?” the guardswoman challenges, undeterred.

“It stinks there too.”

“What about your quarters, does it stink there too?” 

Uuka looks to her with a quick glare, and then laughs loudly.  Sheathing his daggers, he ambles slowly past her, bumping shoulders. Elisa’s hand clenches and she has to restrain the urge to draw her greatsword as the hobgoblin taunts her with his slow retreat back to the passenger deck.

Elisa moves in to examine the sparring room briefly. The target has seven distinctive dagger marks, all clustered at the center of the target. Other than that, nothing seems disturbed.  She returns to the hold to see Loki and Alexandre hauling up a large crate.  They set it down on the deck and begin prying the collected goods open.  With a brief nod to the two men, she returns to the deck to watch for the other guards’ return.  

They are late, laughing and nibbling on skewers of meat as they saunter agonizingly slow back to the _Liralen_. Elisa storms past them and to the healing bay. Perhaps sensing the fragile state of the barbarian’s patience, Vijaya doesn’t take a long time to inspect the new, pink skin where Elisa was struck, and sends her on her way in just a few minutes. Elisa bumps into one of the passengers on the way out, just one of the female merchants looking for a snack, Nyla Lanyon.  She points her towards the kitchens where Fortunato lingers and she finally heads out to the fair to enjoy herself.


***

The _Liralen _ departs before sunset, on its way to Thrane and its next port of call, the city of Passage, and from there Aruldusk.  There she will discharge all of her passengers save for one and proceed to the border of the dangerous Mournlands, the site of Rose Quarry.  All six members of the expedition group slated to first explore the site are resting in their quarters when a commotion from the opposite crew quarters startles some of them awake.  The rest awaken when a bleary-eyed Kashandi walks in and tells Ruel, “Your little friend is in trouble.”

Ruel is the first on his feet and out the door, but the party is quickly on his heels in varying states of half-dress.  Cautiously the party files into the crew quarters to find the cabin boy Errol, Captain D’Meryl and Niall Goldsmith in the midst of an argument, with Adjutant Tagotah, captain of the ships guard watching with a stern expression locked on his face.  Tagotah looks towards Elisa, first inside with her greatsword drawn, and nods to her.  She lowers her weapon as Ruel files in behind, followed by the rest of the party.

Niall Goldsmith is screaming at the cabin boy, whose arm is firmly in the grasp of Captain D’meryl as he tries to calm down the irate wizard.

“Sir, I need you to calm down, the crew and myself will handle this matter!”

“I just want to know where that little thief stashed my wands, they are more valuable to me than someone like him could ever know!” Niall snaps.

“I didn’t take anything, I didn’t even go by your cabin!”  Errol pipes up, trying to tug his arm free from the unyielding grip of the captain.

“I do intend to search the boys quarters, and if nothing is found I will put in inquiries with House Medani when we get to Passage.”  D’meryl directs the boy by Tagotah, and the adjuant lays two heavy hands on the boy’s shoulders while the captain finds the key to the boy’s locker and unlocks it.  After a minute of searching, his back straightens and he stands, looking hard at Errol.  “What do you know of this note, Errol?”

“I’ve never seen it before, sir.  What does it say?”

Ruel, keeping a close eye on Niall, interrupts, “Now is not the time to be hurling spells around I think, good sir, desist at once!”

As all eyes turn on him, Goldsmith glares at Ruel but drops his hands out from under his cloak and into plain sight.

The captain clears his throat. "Errol, it seems to contain evidence that you are indeed involved in this theft. I am yet to be convinced fully, however for the time being it would be best for you to accompany Adjutant Tagotah to the brig until we can set about clearing your name."

“Do not worry Errol, we will get to the bottom of this.”  Ruel reassures the cabin boy as he is led away.  Errol's face looks pale but he nods and is escorted out of the room by the adjutant.  As he leaves Niall snaps, "What does the note say? I have a right to know!"

D'meryl faces the wizard, "I have reason to suspect that this note may have been planted. If Errol has never seen it before, a Medani official who can cast _Detect Thoughts _ will be able to tell if he does indeed know its contents. That would secure his guilt and House Lyrandar can go about investigating the whereabouts of your missing items.  If the note is indeed true, it is very probable that your possessions are no longer aboard this ship."

"Detect thoughts" is a relatively easy spell - within a few hours meditation, I could interrogate the boy for y..."

“No.”  Elisa states flatly.

Before Niall can snap at her for her tone, Captain D’Meryl steers the conversation back on course.  “Lord Goldsmith.  I do believe you probably could cast the spell, and I appreciate your offer.  However, I am not positive that your judgment is unclouded in this matter - I think you could understand that I prefer to work with the officials in Passage."

"You may regret that choice, Captain." Niall sweeps back through the crew quarters and heads to his own rooms.

Captain D'meryl, looking at the empty space the wizard left in the room, mutters to himself. "I very much doubt it." He then turns to the crew present.

 “Clearly you know the lad and believe him to be innocent.  I don't trust this set of circumstances either. One of the boy’s uniform buttons was found in Lord Goldsmith’s stateroom.  And I found these in his trunk.”  D’Meryl hands over the party a note and a coin pouch, with Goldsmith’s initials.  “Please do not mention the contents of the note to Errol.  I believe the boy's statements are truthful and you all know my plans there.  As I told Lord Goldsmith, if Errol has knowledge of the note it will prove his guilt to a point.  I am hoping the reverse will be true as well.

Yet, I fear for the boy.  I know his past is less than honest and the regulators may see that as enough evidence to incriminate or charge and hold the boy. The officials in Passage are known to be rather rigid in their interpretation of the law.

Even more than Errol, I trust Lord Ravien's judgment in placing him aboard.  You may search thoroughly any crew and cargo spaces and the public areas of the ship as long as you can do so unobtrusively. I cannot allow you access into a passenger's private compartment unless you have serious proof.  More than one of our passengers would react as Lord Goldsmith has. Please keep your eyes and ears open concerning this matter. I would be very grateful if you can turn up more information that may clear this matter 
up."

D’Meryl leaves the party who stands in silence as everyone thinks over the problem.  Audric takes the note and Errol’s button, reading the note aloud and examining the button one more time.  “There are a couple platinum pieces in the wax here.  It reads: ‘At one bell into the first watch outside of Ghalt drop the goods over the side. You will be well paid.’”

He turns to the rest of the group.  “Errol lost four buttons yesterday in the bar fight.  One of the passengers or crew there must have taken one of the buttons and planted it in Goldsmith’s quarters when they stole the wands.”

Ruel nods.  “The thief must have been one of the people who were there.  Who was at the bar that night?”

Dox rubs his chin.  “Well, Seaghan MacCune, that Bligh fellow you beat up Audric, and the hobgoblin Uuka...”

Elisa brightens and interrupts, “Hey!  I saw him sneaking around the cargo holds and the sparring room when everyone was out at the festival, maybe he did it!”

Audric nods.  “Possibly.  But do not forget other people were there.  That young man, Denneth ‘ir Lain, he brought Errol into the bar in the first place, remember?  And the women were there as well, Jewell d’Lyrander, Sarenti d'Orien and Nyla Lanyon.”

Dox nods.  “And Princess Wrel, she tried to sneak under the bar with me.”

Ruel glances aside at Dox.  “I somehow doubt the Princess is involved, though I hear she does have a reputation as a trouble maker.”

Elisa snorts.  “Well I think it was that Uuka guy.  I’m going back down there to check it out.”

“I will go with you.”  Both Ruel and Elisa file off below decks.

Audric looks to Dox, “Come on; let’s see if we can find anything else at the bar.”  He glances at Alexandre.  “Are you coming?”

He blinks and looks up at the monk.  “Yeah, yeah sure I’ll tag along I guess.”

As he follows Dox and Audric upstairs he sighs and mutters under his breath, “Should have stayed in bed.”


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

Nice opening paragraph.   

I get the impression that the "party" spends most of it's time "split up". 

Of course with 2 DM's that might not be as tedious as it would be in some games.


----------



## tmaaas

MavrickWeirdo said:
			
		

> Nice opening paragraph.
> 
> I get the impression that the "party" spends most of it's time "split up".
> 
> Of course with 2 DM's that might not be as tedious as it would be in some games.





Yes, the opening paragraph was nice, but it's nothing compared to the scene in game. My wife (Micah) was running the session, and she didn't expect the note to fall into Ruel's hands. The look on her face when PhoenixAsh came back with the "This is good, but I can make it great" line was priceless.

Ahh, yes. PheonixAsh keeps us on our toes.


Acutally, the party is together most of the time. Most of the story hour sections where they're not is due to out-of-session emails.

This session was the exception, however. It was entitled "To Catch a Thief" and is more of a standard clue-style mystery. There was no combat. Instead, we set up scenes on board the ship where we dropped clues; the party now has to figure them out before time runs out for Errol.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Allow me to set the scene here...   

When Elisa wanted to look around for another PC to read the note to her, Tmaas called for a D20 roll for everyone's proximity.  I roll, natural 20!  Audric's player rolls, natural 20!  In the roll off, his player gets the nod.  (Much to my disappointment, of course)

But when Audric read it and decided not to talk to Jasper, Elisa had to find another PC to confront him.  Initially she was going to bring it to Dox, but he rolled a natural one and Micah said it would take a long time to find him.  So she went for the next closest PC, which happened to be Ruel.

So not only did Elisa's determined interrogation of Jasper wreck this attempt to set up another lead for us to investigate later with "To Catch a Thief", but the note ended up in Ruel's hands through some very improbable circumstances.

Poor Micah.  And poor Kashandi.  

We do some splitting up, but most of the more individual efforts are between game emails and such.  We all have busy schedules and play monthly, so we try to maximize the time we have for sessions with everyone together.  Tmaas and Micah do a great job of keeping things moving.


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

tmaaas said:
			
		

> Yes, the opening paragraph was nice, but it's nothing compared to the scene in game. My wife (Micah) was running the session, and she didn't expect the note to fall into Ruel's hands. The look on her face when PhoenixAsh came back with the "This is good, but I can make it great" line was priceless.




Husband & Wife DM Team? Running an Eberron Game? In Wisconsin? Why are all the really good games so far away? (Of course I do live less than 40 miles from piratecat.)


----------



## Micah

tmaaas said:
			
		

> The look on her face when PhoenixAsh came back with the "This is good, but I can make it great" line was priceless.




Heh, well since we are sharing game moments. . . . As far as the actual game went I was playing Jasper and Jasper was pretty reluctant to tell Ruel who the note was for even with fair diplomacy rolls from our wizard-entertainer. But Jasper did know one thing - he wasn't born a poet - he was born an innkeeper. When Ruel offered to improve the note, he broke - albeit after I picked my jaw off the floor.

It was only after he'd (Ruel) offered to help with the note that Jasper told him who it was for. And while Ruel might only have had a muscle twitch in his jaw - I got a much better reaction from his player. I believe it was an initial groan of "oh no" followed a split second later by an emphatic "oh yes!" 

I dearly wish I had PhoenixAsh's ability to quickly process and respond to situations. 



			
				PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> Poor Micah.  And poor Kashandi.




It's certainly been worth the laughs I've had over it. And the revenge. . . .



PhoenixAsh - thanks for writing this account. I am constantly amazed at how well you capture our players, and how much this account enhances my own enjoyment of the game. With that in mind I am willing to offer an incentive to see a few more installments.

I hate fudging die rolls - but if you can post the rest of the "To Catch a Thief" session before our next game. I will "adjust" the numbers on Kashandi's last saving throws. Should you not be sure about what I'm referring to - it had to do with a series of events including Captain D'meryl and a punch bowl. The results would favor Ruel I believe as long as she keeps the sense motive roll she had.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #19: A Fruitless Search*

Alright Micah, you're on!   

***

Elisa and Ruel search amidst the crates and stores in the cargo holds and re-examine the sparring ring.  Stifling a yawn Ruel announces, “I do not think there is anything to find.”

Elisa frowns and shakes her head.  “Well its obvious Uuka was here.  I think I can even see a footprint here that looks like his, see?”

Ruel cocks an eyebrow, “Are you sure you are not just seeing what you want to see?  It does not look like anything to me.”

Elisa sighs, “Errol’s your friend, work with me here!”  She goes out to the crew access passage and looks around for a minute while Ruel contemplates the dust on the hold’s floor.  “I don’t see any footprints out here… hey wait, what’s this Ruel?”

Ruel follows Elisa out and studies a scuff on the lower part of the passage’s wall.  “Now that looks like a heel mark from a women’s shoe.”

Elisa looks up at Ruel, “And you can tell that how?”

Ruel smirks.  “I have actually been around a few proper ladies in my time.”  He shakes his head.  “But this puts us back to square one.  If we have Uuka’s prints and a heel mark here, it does not rule out anyone.  Though it is suspicious that the heel mark is in this passage, it is supposed to be for the crew only.”

Elisa rolls her eyes but is forced to agree, “Alright, let’s go see what the others have found.”

***

“After exhaustive searching, we found a button.”  Alexandre sighs, leaning against the bar.

Audric nods.  “So we have two buttons missing and a male or a female sneaking around in the hold.  That does not put us very far from where we started.”

Dox rubs his chin.  “Well, only a few of the passengers stayed behind to help clean up after you beat up Bligh.  There was just Denneth and all three ladies.  Bligh was out cold, though I guess he could have grabbed a button from Errol’s coat in that struggle.  Uuka was hauling Bligh out, and Seaghan stumbled out with them.  I don’t think they would have had the time to pick up stray buttons.”

“Maybe, but that does not prove anything.” Audric frowns.

“Hey, what did Errol do to get Bligh so mad at him anyways?  Why did Bligh grab his coat?”  Elisa stares at Audric.

“I’m not certain.”

“Let’s go talk to Errol, I want to know why Bligh was grabbing him.”  Elisa strides purposely towards the brig and the rest of the party hurries after her, struggling to keep up.

The party finds Errol locked in the cell, playing checkers with the Bo’sun through the iron bars.  He looks up hopefully as the party approaches, but his face falls at their somber expressions.  Ruel comes forward and speaks quietly to the boy, “Errol, why did you come up to the bar the other night?”

“Denneth asked me to, he said he wanted to show me somebody.”

Ruel leans in, “He wanted to show you somebody, who?”

“He said a friend of his, he said he wanted me to meet…” Errol frowns and looks up from the checkerboard.  “I don’t know, he was pretty pushy though.”

 “And was he near you the whole time?”

“No, once we got to the top of the stairs he stopped being pushy.  Maybe he was looking for his friend or somethin’.  I don’t remember him getting close after Bligh grabbed me.”

Ruel smiles gently.  “You did not forget to lock your chest, did you?  You still have the key?”

Errol shakes his head and displays a small brass key.  “No, I didn’t forget and I have the key right here.”

Dox nudges Alexandre, whispering, “This ship may be state of the art, but those locks are as cheap as they come.”

“Remind me to buy a better lock on our next shore leave.”  Alexandre replies, rubbing his eyes.  “Look, I don’t think we’re going to learn anything tonight, let’s do this in the morning when the people who could have done it are actually awake.”

Ruel nods, “Thank you Errol, are you going to be okay?”

The cabin boy manages a smile, “I’ve slept in worse places than this.”

***

As the party files back up the stairs towards their quarters, Ruel draws Audric aside, “Do you think this is the same thief who took the Vidari’s money?”

Audric nods slowly.  “It seems likely.  I don’t think that a casual thief would concoct such an elaborate fiction to frame Errol.  It would rule out Wrel and Denneth… though I do not suspect either of them myself.”

Ruel shakes his head, “Then why do you think Denneth was so eager to get Errol up to the bar?  Could not Bligh and he have had some sort of arrangement?”

“Perhaps, but I think it is most likely that Denneth was just trying to get close to Princess Wrel.  He has been trying ever since he got onboard, with no success.  He has the look of a love struck lad, not a criminal,” Audric reasons.

“Oh.  Oh!  Wrel did say Errol seemed kind of cute at dinner, I suppose you may be right.”  Ruel covers a yawn.  As the pair approach Audric’s guest quarters, Ruel continues down the hall to the crew cabin, calling after the monk.  “We will catch the thief, but that will have to wait for the morning.  Good night Audric.”

“Good night Ruel.”


----------



## Micah

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> Alright Micah, you're on!
> 
> ***





tick tick tick tick


----------



## Krafus

> Ruel smirks as he considers the proper verses for his rival.




Now _this_ should be interesting...

Great writing as usual, PhoenixAsh.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #20: To Catch a Thief*

_Darkened alleyways in the dead of night piled with faceless humanoid refuse.  Rain water pooling in rancid puddles seeping into boots.  Running from the shadows._

The streets of Fairhaven had always been home to him, but tonight every shadow bears a hidden menace, every slouched over figure in the back alleys concealing barely-restrained violence.  Pursuit is behind him, he cannot spare time for the shadows or the slums.  All he can do is keep running.  The alleyways close in, contorting impossibly tall and endlessly smaller.  The pursuit is gaining.  He squeezes through a narrow alleyway, his footing slips on the puddle and he falls with a heavy splash, long dark hair spilling over his face, clinging to it.  The pursuit has caught him, he rises to face it.

_Pain, exhaustion.  Can you keep running?  Danger, towering and strong.  More danger, slim and frail.  Recognizable danger._

Only one of the four figures has a face, the face of all the reasons he had left Fairhaven, ran from his family, all of his family.  His speech grates on every nerve.  “Look at you, Olerude.  You look terrible!  We cannot have that any more.  I don’t like you, you don’t like me… fine.  But you’ve got talent.  That much is painfully obvious.  So you’re going to work for me now, Khoravar.  And I’m going to have your whole family under my thumb.  Before you say a damned thing, this is not an offer; you’d be too pig-headed to accept it.  So here is what we are going to do.  You are coming with me, or these three ‘gentleman’ are going to beat you into a pulp and then you are coming with me, make your pick.”

The three men surge forward as almost at the same instant and both wizards begin to incant, but only one spell takes hold.  He runs with the three men on his heels.  The face of his past stares blankly at him, soon lost.

_Lucky that time, weren’t you?  Will it last?  How long until you trip, fall again?  They won’t stop chasing you.  Hide, you will have to hide._

Desperation fuels him, he gains a slight lead.  He skids around a corner, barely keeping his footing as he slams into a wall.  Forcing himself into motion, a spell takes form and the rain slicked alley behind him turns black.  The pursuit sees him, does not see the darkness.  They slip and fall.  Forcing aching limbs back into action, he gains on them, begins to lose them.

_Clever move.  But you can’t escape them, can’t escape what they are.  What you are.  What you will be.  You can’t escape ME._

He chokes out a strangled cry, grabbing his stomach and doubling over, burning pain thrumming through his stomach.  So close!  He can see the streets, a crowd, and light ahead of him.  He tries to move and the pain re-doubles and he collapses.  His vision blurs and spots as the pain reaches a crescendo.  He rolls and spills his guts onto the alley floor.  He looks up, gasping for breath.  The figures, all four of them are upon him.

“Where did he go?”  Dysinth Shaliste D’Phiarlan has known Ruel all of the half-elf’s life, but he does not seem to recognize him.  He points a shaky figure down the alley; they run off, disappearing in the crowd ahead.  His stomach still burns, but the pain has receded.  The light from the street ahead turns a puddle to a mirror.  He crawls towards it, looks at himself.  He does not see himself.  He sees an old beggar man, an alien face on his body.  His stomach thrums with warmth.  He lifts his shirt, his skin is marked.  A dragonmark.  A Mark of Shadow.  He studies it for several minutes.  It should not be possible, but it shows no flaw, no aberration.  He blinks as his appearance seems to muddle, dissolve and reform into his own.  The old man in the puddle speaks before vanishing.

_I will conceal you for now, but you will be revealed later.  You will not escape._

Suddenly he feels a heavy pressure on his chest…

***

“Hey, are you going to sleep… hey!  Calm down!” Loki glowers at the entertainer wizard struggling beneath him as he tries to shake him awake.  He looks unusually pale and as he lifts his hand its damp with sweat.  “What’s with you?”

Ruel blinks and takes a deep breath to collect himself before managing a short smile.  “Just a bad dream.  What is the matter?”

“Its past daybreak and you all are going to miss breakfast if you don’t get a move on, what were you all doing last night?”

Ruel quickly fills in the half-giant as the rest of the assortment of crew slowly awakens and gathers itself.  All except Dox, who is nowhere to be found.  

“That must be why we are doing a surprise inventory of the contents of the holds,” Loki sighs.  “Wish I could help, but I will probably be down there until we reach Passage.  Good luck!”  The half-giant strides off, leaving Ruel, Elisa and Alexandre alone.

The trio ambles off towards the _Liralen’s _ dining facilities to find Audric in conversation with Denneth.  After a short exchange, Denneth moves off down the corridor and Audric approaches them, “It is as I suspected, Denneth was merely interested in Errol as a means to Wrel.  I believe we can rule him out.”

“What if he’s lying to ya?” Elisa challenges.

“I am fairly certain he is not.”  The monk’s calm confidence is unflappable, and any further debate is forestalled by the appearance of Dox.

“There you are!  Hey, guess what, I checked out Goldsmith’s quarters.  There’s a wine stain on the carpet!”

Audric narrows his eyes, “What do you mean you ‘checked out’ his quarters?  And why does it matter that there is a wine stain there?”

Dox raises his hands, “Hey, I know, I know!  We are supposed to be careful about the passengers, but with Errol incarcerated someone had to clean Niall’s quarters.”  He grins, “I volunteered!  And in case you forgot, only the three women were drinking wine at the bar the other night, I know for a fact the hobgoblin and his friends don’t touch the stuff.  It was a pretty fresh stain, and it was right by Niall’s chest.”

“I wonder if any of the ship’s wine stock has gone missing recently…” Alexandre rubs his chin thoughtfully.  “Suppose we’ll have to help with breakfast anyways, let’s check it out.”  He and Dox walk off towards the kitchen.

Elisa grunts and looks at Ruel, “Between your so called ‘heel mark’ in the holds and this wine stain I guess we can narrow it down to Sarenti, Jewell and Nyla.”

Ruel nods, “Indeed.  This should be as good a time as any to find the passengers gathered in one place.  Why don’t we see what we can learn from them Audric?”

Elisa pauses a moment, alone in the corridor, “Guess I’ll just eat breakfast then.”

***

Audric approaches a small table where Jewell and Nankivel d’Lyrander, are chattering over quiches (predictably) stuffed with all manner of breakfast meats.  The pair looks up at him as he approaches and bows his head politely, “May I join you for breakfast?”

“Oh yes, certainly!” Jewell bubbles.  “Its Audric right?  I’m Jewell and this is Nankivel.”  Nankivel nods, but does not get in a word edgewise over Jewell’s stream of conversation.  “What do you think of the _Liralen_?  Isn’t she a wonderful ship?  I love the food, although it’s a bit, ah, heavy for me sometimes.”

Audric smiles and nods, “Yes, it is quite an amazing ship.  Though I hear there may be a small problem with thieves onboard.”

Jewell leans in, “Really?  I haven’t heard anything about that!  Something’s been stolen?”

“Well, they are still investigating all that, but I hear they’ve arrested the ship’s cabin boy…”

Jewell pouts, “Oh that’s a shame, he seems like such a nice boy.  And I didn’t even get a chance to return this to him.”  She rummages through her purse and produces a button.  “I found it after that unfortunate incident at the bar.”  She grins at him.  “I was really impressed with how well you handled that.”

Audric smiles slightly, “Thank you.  You know, I met the boy in Fairhaven and I was going to visit him later, if you like, I will return the button to him.  I’ll bet he would still appreciate it.”

Jewell quickly agrees and hands over the button.  “So do you think he did it?”

Audric shrugs, but watches Jewell very closely as he answers, “I’m not so certain.  I hear they found evidence of a woman in high heels committing the thievery.”

Nankivel laughs, “High heels on an airship?  Not practical at all!  State of the art or not there is still turbulence now and then.  The last thing you want to do is fall when you’re several miles up in the air.”

Jewell nods, “I love my heels as much as the next gal, but its just not a good idea onboard ship.  I haven’t put mine on since we left Fairhaven.  Well, Nyla wears them.  But she seems the type to live dangerously, you know?  Of course, she should learn to not live dangerously when playing cards with me,” she smirks.

Audric nods thoughtfully, “Yes indeed.”

“Can I take your order, _sir_?”  Standing above Audric with his arms folded, Alexandre gives him a wry grin.

***

Ruel watches Sarenti d’Orien sitting by herself and drinking a large cup of coffee while observing the room with a critical air.  The woman observes the wizard and lifts an eyebrow.  Breaking into a smile, Ruel approaches her table. “Enjoy your breakfast this morning?”

“It was passable.”

Ruel hesitates for just a moment, “I admired your shoes last evening at dinner.”

Sarenti rises and towers over him, several inches taller than him, and looks down at the entertainer, “I would think, the Lyranders would train their crew to show more decorum.”  Turning she strides out of the dining hall, leaving the wizard at a loss.

A moment later he shrugs, deciding that someone so tall probably would not wear heels anyways.  “I do not understand the women on this airship.”

***

After the breakfast hour the five of them gather in the now deserted dining hall.  “No one saw Nyla?  Odd, I wonder if she is still in her quarters,” Ruel muses.

Audric nods and looks askance at Ruel.  “I am certain Jewell is innocent.  And, despite the reticence of Sarenti, it does follow that with her height she would not make use of heels.  Did either of you find any of the wine missing?”

Dox nods, “A couple of the best are missing, seems our thief has struck there too.”

Ruel brightens suddenly, “Alexandre, do you recall at dinner a few nights ago, how intently Nyla was watching Errol and Goldsmith?”

Alexandre shakes his head.  “I just remember them talking about how the ship would fail because it had too much red marble onboard.”

Ruel blinks and then shakes his head.  “No, I remember that Nyla was staring at Errol and Niall quite intently.  I think she may have been sizing them up for her theft.  Goldsmith was casting _Detect Thoughts_, and he even talked about how if anything was going to go missing he would blame Errol first.”

Alexandre nods, “Now that I do remember.  Shouldn’t that be enough to convince the Captain to let us search her quarters?  Or at least track her down, I don’t know if anyone has seen her this morning, this ship is big, but not that big.”

The group of them approaches Captain D’Meryl, who listens attentively as they explain what they’ve found.  When they are finished he quickly summons Adjutant Tagotah and all of them descend upon Nyla’s quarters.  Tagotah’s heavy knocking goes unanswered and after short consideration D’meryl bids him to unlock the door.  Before he can even get his keys out, however, Dox has lockpicks in both hands and springs the door’s lock.  All gathered look at him closely and his eyes widen.

D’meryl mutters, “An exceptional collection of talents indeed.”   Shaking his head he gestures for Tagotah to open the door.

Ruel folds his arms, “Dox?”

“Hmm…?”

“Stay away from my locker.”

The changling ducks his head but follows Tagotah inside Nyla’s quarters, the quarters are luxurious but nothing looks out of place.  Dox moves immediately to Nyla’s chest and finds it unlocked and filled with clothing, personal effects and loose change, but no stolen wands.  Amidst the loose change, however, is a single button that matches those from Errol’s jacket.  Undaunted, Dox searches the chest more thoroughly and finds a loose seam no more than half an inch from the base of the trunk.  Tracing a slender blade along the seam, he finds it extends nearly all the way around the heavy chest.  Probing carefully, he suddenly grins and lifts up along the barely noticeable seam, opening the chest from its base.  It crashes against the cabin’s floor as he blinks and steps back, nearly blinded by a bright light issuing from the opening that descends into the floor itself.

Ruel steps forward and peers at the opening.  “I believe this must lead to an extra-dimensional space.  The stolen wands must be inside!”

Dox smirks, “Well you’re the expert, go take a look.”

Ruel hesitates a moment before carefully descending into the luminescent opening, but shortly thereafter he lifts his head out of the opening and calls for Audric to join him.

After he adjusts to the light, the monk’s eyes widen not at the massive display of wealth before him, but the source of the light in the room: the Lightstone stolen from the Vidari’s.  Ruel is holding a case of wands in both hands and smiles, “It looks like we’ve solved your mystery too.”

***

Outside the cabin, Elisa is watching the hallways carefully.  While the rest of the crew is ogling the wealth pouring out from inside the trunk, she’s waiting for Nyla to return.  And sure enough she does.

Elisa and Nyla lock eyes for a moment.  Nyla turns to run, but Elisa is faster.  She charges after her and barrels into her, tackling her to the deck.  Nyla struggles and swings a heavy, dark glass bottle at the barbarian, but Elisa grabs her wrist, squeezes and twists.  Nyla lets out a scream as she is easily maneuvered into a pin.  “And just where do you think you’re going, huh!?” Elisa grins, as Nyla squirms helplessly under her grip.  Looking over to where the bottle rolled she calls out behind her, “Hey Dox, I found your missing wine!”


----------



## Micah

Congrats!

Kashandi misses the will save and the subsequent sense motive.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Hmm... I'm not even sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing she will miss that save...

Oh well, I'm sure that's why it was offered.   

In the next part the Liralen Irregulars at last descend upon Rose Quarry and begin their assignment for Lady Elaydren and House Cannith.  If (like Alexandre was at this point) you are craving some more action you can expect to get your fill soon.  Also, though I believe the adventure was alterred quite a bit by Tmaas and Micah, some of it is based off one of the published Eberron adventures.  I'm not familiar with them myself, so hopefully one of them will clarify for any of our esteemed readers who wish to avoid any potential spoilers.


----------



## Micah

The module would be Shadows of the Last War  by Keith Baker WOTC

We modified Part Three - Rose Quarry
and  Part Five - Whitehearth

Even with the modifications there still will be spoilers - so if you're playing or will be playing through the module - warning given.

So far it has been the only part of that adventure path we've used although we may come back to parts in games yet to come.

We have a mix of our own adventures and ones that others have done. Last night the party finished up Fallen Angel  also by Keith Baker, Dungeon 117

The future looks like it will be our own ideas for a while as we try to tie things to some of the plot hooks in Alexandre's background. . . . . Ahoy - piratey action ahead!


----------



## Krafus

> Ruel folds his arms, “Dox?”
> 
> “Hmm…?”
> 
> “Stay away from my locker.”




 

Great update! And I do look forward to more action...


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #21: Descent into Rose Quarry*

Captain D’meryl’s fears of the litigious officials in Passage are quickly justified.  A stopover scheduled for a few hours extends interminably and, as he finally departs the offies of the Medani officals, he finds that a full day has nearly passed him by. But he is not leaving empty-handed, and with a tired smile he starts back to the port where the _Liralen _is docked.

Objects stolen from onboard the airship, the wine and several sets of silverware, are a simple matter to place, as are the Lightstone and the funds stolen from the Vidari’s, but several objects have no readily identifiable owners.  Nyla herself helped with the identification of some item’s owners, as she collected newspaper clippings of her more noteworthy heists, but that still leaves many objects that will take some time to place with their proper owners, if they can be found at all.

And since the thief and the objects had been caught onboard his ship, D’meryl now holds a finder’s writ to all of those valuables.  If their owner’s are not found, they will become property of House Lyrander.  Delaying the _Liralen _to acquire it was a small risk, but he is certain it is a risk that was worth taking and it has already paid off in a small way.  He smiles as he pats the seemingly near-empty pack slung over his shoulder; the crew at least should appreciate the effort.

***

“A Handy Haversack, excellent!” Ruel immediately strides forward to inspect the leather backpack.

Elaydren smiles at the wizard’s enthusiasm; “With the blessings of your captain I have stocked it with provisions, equipment and ammunition for your expedition.  Please consider it my thanks for rescuing me from that warforged and his lackeys.”

Captain D’Meryl clears his throat, “It is yours to use as you see fit, but its value will be set against any ah… incidental expenses you might wish to claim while on this and future expeditions: personal ammunition, arrows, potions, scrolls and the like.”  D’Meryl looks pointedly at Ruel, but only gets an innocuous smile in return.  “I’ve also included a small bonus for your efforts, some monetary funds from other bits of the treasure that the Medani officials have auctioned. The Passage officials are still trying to track down the owners of some of the magical items. Given time, if no one is found – several pieces may come into our possession.

Tomorrow we dock at Aruldusk, where the passengers will disembark for an extended stay.  All except Lady Elaydren of course and this ship will be at her service for the duration of our mission.  The ah… incident at Fairhaven has altered the terms of our expedition somewhat.  Would you mind explaining Miss D’Vown?”

Elaydren considers a moment, “I will start from the beginning.  The village of Rose Quarry belonged to Cyre before the war.  An outpost on the border of Thrane.  Originally, House Cannith prospectors established the village when they found a massive vein of red marble. Cannith brought in dwarves from the Mror Holds to mine and excavate the marble.  Anywhere you see Cannith architecture, you may find Rose marble – Sharn, Flamekeep, Korth, even Rhukaan Draal – half the red stone in Khorvaire probably comes from the quarry.  It was generally left untouched by the war, as it was simply a House Cannith outpost.

From what we know, Rose Quarry was destroyed a few days prior to the Day of Mourning when Cyre was destroyed entirely.  No one knows what happened there.  There is quite a mystery as to exactly how it was destroyed, there were no known military troops in the area, no reason for the quarry to be attacked, and it was assumed until recently that no one survived.

A month ago I was contacted by a dwarf named Fintan McTeague.  He claimed to know the whereabouts of the secret Cannith forgeholds in Cyre.  He also claimed to be the sole survivor of Rose Quarry.  With a little investigation into his remarks, the House decided to act as swiftly as it could.  Thus the _Liralen _was chartered, and I made arrangements to interview Fintan in Fairhaven.

Somewhere along the line our information was compromised.  I got to the meeting site just before we were attacked.  Fintan defended me with his life, he said he would not run again, gave me a journal and told me to run.  Things got jumbled then.  He held off the kobolds, killing several while I ran.  I caught a glimpse of the Warforged entering as I left and I learned later from the authorities what I suspected, that Fintan died there.  I do not know if others are aware of my purpose, but I do think one thing should be clear.  We need to proceed with caution and as much haste as the schedule of the _Liralen _can allow for.

From Fintan’s journal I’ve learned that he believed there were still directions to Whitehearth preserved some way at the Rose Quarry site.  We believe that the schema we seek rests in the ruins of Whitehearth within the Mournlands.  Whitehearth was one of several secret research facilities that the Cannith ran during the war.  Their locations were carefully guarded secrets even within the House.  Most who knew the location of the facility died on the day of Mourning.

It was thought that Whitehearth was the destination of Zelinnia d’ Cannith, one of the more powerful members of the house after the destruction.  But she kept the details of the expedition she was on secret and her journals have revealed nothing more than hints to where she disappeared.  With her, Cannith West’s last hope of finding Whitehearth faded.  Until now.”

Elaydren lays a battered and bloodstained journal on the table, “This was Fintan’s. Much of it is rather dark poetry.  The earlier entries chronicle some of the destruction that he witnessed at the quarry.  The language is perhaps symbolic of his grief.  I was unable to discern the meaning of much of it.  Of greater interest was this page which he had marked.”  A heavy piece of parchment marks an entry in the journal.  As Elaydren opens the book, the edges of the parchment curl up.  “Fintan marked this page with a _See Invisibility_ scroll and it was not lost on me that the poem talks about ‘the way to great secrets.’  And it seemed to be one of the more lucid pieces.”

_The sun rises red in the quarry no more.
No more do the pickaxes ring.
No more do the chisel tips sing.

The way to great secrets lies behind stone eyes, 
But you must have eyes that can see.
A great pit of grief is all that war buys
Encased in death forever they’ll be.

The sun rises red in land Cyre no more.
No more do the forges give woe.
No more do the heirs arcane know.

Great woe to the secrets behind the stone eyes
For those who have eyes that could see.
A great pit of grief is all that war buys
Encased in death forever they’ll be._

“From what I can tell the poem compares the destruction at the quarry with the destruction of Cyre.  Whitehearth might possibly have been one of the forges mentioned.  Other poems within the journal equate members of House Cannith to “the heirs arcane”.  Fintan seemed to have a poor opinion of my house from reading the journal, especially in the beginning entries. It seems that before the quarry was destroyed, the Cannith operatives and foremen did not always treat the dwarven workforce well.”

Elaydren looks up from the journal and sighs, “As to what we don’t ‘know’ lately that could be volumes.”  She closes the journal with a snap, “It’s meager information to start with, but it is more than we have had, and the recovery of this particular schema is worth risking the cost of this expedition to me.”

She hands both journal and scroll to Ruel, “These items may assist you, they are yours to use as you will.  Perhaps you may find something in the journal I missed before we reach the site.  Please… do your best.”  She looks at the journal in the wizard’s hands for a long moment before sighing and returning to her quarters.

***

After dropping off passengers and picking up myriad supplies in Aruldusk for the expedition, the _Liralen _approaches Rose Quarry at dusk.  Out of caution, the airship’s massive elemental ring is reduced to a fraction of its potency by the Lyrander crew, preventing the ship from being an obvious beacon in the night sky.  The six members of the expedition, along with Captain D’Meryl and Elaydren are gathered in the ship’s observation deck, the lowest point on the ship and equipped with a powerful eyeglass.

Alexandre is peering through the eyeglass; he leans back and shakes his head, “Looks like someone beat us here.  There’s a camp site on the southwest end of the site.”

Elaydren’s expression darkens, “As I feared, my intentions have been made known.  But if they are still here, they are not at Whitehearth.  Captain, we should proceed with the mission.”

D’Meryl nods, “Of course Miss D’Vown, but we should all proceed with caution.  I would rather you used discretion than violence to complete this assignment, as much as possible.”

Audric gives a small nod as he rises from his turn at the spyglass, “There are quite a few tents down there, and we will probably be outnumbered.”  

Alexandre brightens and grins, “Maybe we should try some of the ballista and catapults out on them.  That would thin their ranks a bit!”  Dox grins at the thought as well.

Captain D’Meryl goes pale and then speaks sternly, hastily quashing the idea, “I’m going to assume you’re joking crewman.”

***

With that the crew soon finds itself on one of the _Liralen’s _pinnances, descending swiftly towards the north end of the Rose Quarry site.  They touch down without incident, and after determining that their landing site is safe proceed down a narrow canyon. (1)  The sound of metal on stone is testament to a mining operation south of them.

It is not long before the expedition comes to a halt before a massive chasm in the earth.  Twisted rail tracks cross the canyon, and portions look like they may be crossed by some climbing and jumping, but the party elects for a less dangerous solution to the obstacle.

“Come now, Wydeth, you have delivered us so far safely, surely a few more yards is not too much trouble for a pilot of your experience,” Ruel leans against the pinnance smiling up at the young pilot.

“I don’t know, those canyon walls look awfully narrow…” Wydeth answers hesitantly.

“Oh don’t worry, there is plenty of space on the other side of the ravine.  Trust me, you can make it no sweat!” Dox chimes in from the opposite side of the pinnance.

“Oh, well… okay, hop in!” Wydeth swallows and studies the canyon once more as the expedition re-boards the craft.  They set off and hover over the canyon walls, just past the ravine.  His expression turns grim as he studies the sides of the canyon; plenty of space appears to have been a relative term from that changling’s perspective.  Still he manages to guide it down without incident, until he is just a few feet from the canyon floor.  Then the hull scrapes against the rocks and he cringes.  The six members of the expedition are already jumping free of the craft.

Ruel pats the side of the craft as Wydeth hangs his head, grinning up at him, “Cheer up, its just a couple little scrapes.  That is what _Mending _spells are for!”

Wydeth sighs, but nods and lifts the craft back up and to its initial landing spot. (2)

Loki takes the lead as the party follows a ravine descending to the south towards the apparent source of the mining noise, while Ruel takes up the rear, as the two are the only Irregulars that can see clearly in the near dark.   As they clatter down the ravine, Loki is the first to hear the sound of crumbling rocks, and scrambles back as heavy boulders tumble down from the steep slope above him.  Elisa is not so swift behind him, however, and one of the boulders smashes her in the face and shoulder.  She encourages the party to proceed with an enthusiastic grin, spitting out blood and making sure none of her teeth are rattled loose.  To prevent any more nasty surprises, Dox takes the lead and scouts the ravine for any more nasty surprises.  Ruel holds out an everburning lantern from the Handy Haversack to give him enough light to work in.

The ravine leads to a charred but still solid door in one of the outer buildings of the old quarry and the party creeps forward while Dox fiddles with its lock.  Though he doesn’t have the quick success he enjoyed onboard the _Liralen_, the lock is still sprung shortly.  Opening the door, he finds the passage has been sealed by a barrier of solid, charred glass.  Behind it he sees the blurred shape of something moving and he hisses out a warning.  Ruel quickly covers their everburning lantern and the whole group tenses for an attack.

It does not come, however and the shape continues moving back and forth, seemingly oblivious to them.  At length Ruel frees his toad familiar from a pouch at his belt and invokes _Mage Hand_, lifting Fredrick over the charred stone wall.  The roof is blasted and aside from some beams crusted with blackened glass, open, so the toad has an obstructed view of the building.

“Fredrick definitely feels threatened by whatever is behind that wall… multiple beings, human-like I believe,” Ruel whispers as the toad slowly descends back to his outstretched hand.

Loki shakes his head, “Not enough information.”  He looks Ruel over and smiles slowly, “You have the best eyes and you’re the lightest, up you go.”

Ruel nearly gives them away with a hastily strangled yelp as he is nearly thrown onto the wall, but he manages to hold on and peer over the edge.  Loki helps him back down, “There are four of them.  There are two men keeping watch in green tabards, one has a flail and the other a crossbow and two… I think they are zombies, they look like dwarves exhumed from the quarry, picking at the rock,” Ruel reports.

Elisa inspects the glass wall, “It’s not very thick, I could get us through it in a few seconds, but that might be all they need to raise an alarm.”

Ruel nods, “A _Sleep _spell would be in order then, I should be able to disable the two guards.  The mindless zombies should not be able to raise an alarm.”

Dox nods, “But in case it doesn’t work, I’ll come up two and plug any of ‘em that resist your spell.  Hey Loki, think you can get me up there too?”

In short order, both Dox and Ruel are perched on the building’s wall and Elisa stands ready to bash the glass wall in below them.  Ruel begins incanting, taking special care to concentrate in the awkward position he is in.  He tries to cast quietly, but beneath him one of the men hears him and looks up, opening his mouth to call out an alarm.

***

(1): As anyone who has checked out the _Liralen_ maps posted to this storyhour knows, Micah makes excellent maps using Dunjinni, which we enjoy immensely at every session.  However, when we touched down and Dox attempted to scout out the clearing, Micah did not have any of her printed maps ready for him to search through.  Needless to say, we concluded that no danger would be present there.   

(2): Micah was less than pleased that we bypassed her chasm this way, but Dox and Ruel's combined bluff and diplomacy checks were all in the high 20s, apparently too high to ignore.  Oh well, we might have to cross it on the way back...


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## hbarsquared

You know, I haven't even gotten past the third post, yet, and already I'm enthralled.  

You have a great writing style and a sense of humor that you use incredibly effectively.  Your painting of the characters in the first post introducing them is superb.

Just thought I'd let you know my thoughts, and that I plan to repeatedly hit the RELOAD button in hopes for an update.

Once I finish what you have already written, of course.


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## PhoenixAsh

Jeremy_dnd, you just made my day, thank you for your kind words.  And thanks to everyone who has heaped their praise on this storyhour, that and the fun of writing is what keeps me posting.   

Our games are relaxed and full of a lot of laughs, so I hope that sense of fun and humor translates well here.  But Eberron is also full of dark intrigue and mystery, so I hope I manage to work that in too.

I'm shooting for another update by the end of this week, chock full of the promised action, a frustrated Alexandre, and our changling rogue Dox trying to bluff his way out of a fight...


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## Micah

We feel pretty lucky to have PhoenixAsh writing the storyhour. 
And coming up with things in the game that keep us on our toes. . . .

The attachments can shed some light on the surroundings and why the party didn't want to cross the chasm. Sigh. After I figured out exactly how much weight each of those boards could take - they decided to use their collective diplomacy and bluff skills.     I have a weakness for diplomacy. The one redeeming factor - the pilot decided to take the craft back and wait for the party in a less "confined" LZ.


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## hbarsquared

Phew, just finished.  And, it just kept getting better and better.  I loved the way the dice fell concerning the "love letter."  I could not help but laugh, and could not stop grinning . . .

Great poem, too.  Did you write that yourself, Micah?  I don't recall it from the module . . .


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## Micah

urgh. . . . I won't blame poetry that poor on PhoenixAsh.

guilty. . . .  


That's what I get for reading Yeats this morning. Once you read a real poet you get an inkling of how bad you really are.


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #22: Breaking and Entering*

Ruel completes his _Sleep _ spell a second before the man can speak, and both he and his companion collapse, sound asleep under the wizard’s enchantment.  After a hasty signal, Elisa begins bashing on the glass.  Her first strike fractures it, the second shatters a gaping hole in it, and the third wrecks it utterly in a shower of small shards.  She and Alexandre burst inside and engage the zombies, who continue to mindlessly pick at the glass encrusted floor of the quarry.  However, as Elisa whirls her mace inches from one zombie’s head and Alexandre jabs his elven thinblade into another, only to have it spiderweb an encasing fragment of glass and skitter aside, they turn to claw at the pair of them.

“Two more guards coming from the doorway on your left!” Dox calls out from his perch on the wall, leveling a shot at another crossbow wielding man approaching the scene of the disturbance.  He grunts as it pierces his chainmail.

Audric maneuvers inside the doorway and fires a shot from his heavy crossbow at the same guard, but he brings up his shield in time to deflect the bolt.  Loki surges past the monk and takes up a defensive stance, focusing his mental energies on boosting his vitality, and a rush of _Vigor _ courses through him.  The female guardswoman draws an exquisite blade and charges him, but her strike is deflected off of his whirling greataxe.  Her partner rushes in as well, swinging his flail, but it too clatters off the head of the half-giant’s axe as he twists it in a backswing, chipping a large statue nearby.

On the opposite side of the doorway, Elisa and Alexandre ward off blows from both zombies.  Alexandre scowls and drops his thinblade, drawing his own recently requisitioned flail.  Swinging it hard, he pummels the zombie and large fragments of its glass coating shatter, drawing a moan it and a gasp from the two Irregulars, as the zombie’s stench assails them at full force.  Elisa finds success too, as her second blow is better aimed, completely shattering the zombie’s glassy shell and driving shards deep into the staggering undead miner’s side.

From above Dox tries to find a better vantage to fire from, but as he moves forward he slips and loses his balance, falling hard onto the wooden beam and causing it to crack and splinter ominously.  Digging his fingers into the slippery, glass encrusted beam, he manages to hold on and the beam holds his weight.  Beneath him, Audric maneuvers around the injured guardsman while ducking under a blow from his flail and slams his fist hard into his side, only to have his strike foiled by the guard’s chainmail.  Taking advantage of the distraction, Loki sidesteps and brings his greataxe around in a powerful sweep that opens a massive rent in the guardsman’s chainmail, flesh and ribcage, dropping him with a heavy thump.  He brings the greataxe around in time to deflect another strike from the woman, as she maneuvers with him to avoid being flanked between him and Audric.

A short burst of pearly light announces the summoning of a Celestial Giant Fire Beetle.  Ruel grins as it skitters forward to attack, though a swipe of claws is deflected off the woman’s shield.  Ruel fires his crossbow into the furious melee, but misses badly as he tries to correct his shot for to avoid harming his allies.

Alexandre grunts as one of the zombies breaks his guard, tearing its claws across his cheek.  Scowling and bleeding, he drops his flail and, in a display of remarkable grace, he rolls right between the legs of the zombie, springing to his feet with rapier and dagger in hand.  However, his feet slide at the last minute on a smooth section of glass and his attack goes wide of the confused undead.  Elisa let’s her mace fall and draws her greatsword, swinging it in a powerful arc deep the other zombie’s side.  She curses as the blade catches in its fractured ribcage, but she manages to yank the blade free of its corpulent flesh and bring the blade up back to ward off its’ answering strikes.  Above them, Dox manages to straddle the beam and shoots an arrow at one of the zombies, which lodges in its shoulder but does not seem to slow it down any.

Recovering from his surprise at the sudden appearance of the summoned beetle, Audric maneuvers in to re-flank the female guard, spinning as he delivers a roundhouse kick, which the guardswoman only avoids by sharply swinging her head back at the last second.  Once again Loki capitalizes on the distraction and his greataxe makes unfettered contact with her skull, the greataxe getting the better of the exchange as the woman drops, quite dead.

The zombies and the Irregulars continue to trade blows, the zombies showing no discernable signs of frustration as all of their attacks miss, but Alexandre cursing progressively louder and more colorfully as he somehow misses a shambling zombie with both rapier and dagger.  Elisa has no trouble bringing her greatsword around to hack into the zombie’s side a second time, this time rending straight through its ribs and into the zombie Alexandre’s zombie, the former dropping while the later oozes pus and bile out of its abdomen.

Above both melees both Ruel and Dox trade looks as the celestial beetle vanishes abruptly.  “So, maybe we should just wait up here for them to get us down?” Dox quips.  Ruel nods and reloads his crossbow.

Below, Audric takes the moment to investigate further into the room, but two more guardsmen running inside interrupt him.  They draw their weapons as they spot the unarmed monk, but they do not notice Loki until he is bearing down on them.  The half-giant’s greataxe sings again, and another guardsman goes down in a crumpled heap.  His partner wastes no time sputtering off curses and turning tail to run, but as he emerges into the open quarry, he loses his footing on the solid sheet of thick glass coating the ground and collapses with yet more panicked cursing.

“I’m going to take this one down myself!” Alexandre barks as he whirls back around the zombie, retrieving his flail and smashing the zombie’s leg in with the weapon.  Its leg bends but does not buckle and it claws ineffectually at him once more.  Elisa smiles and slides behind it, bringing her blade down in an overhand arc that plows deep into its back, severing its spine and dropping it face first as Alexandre skitters back out of the way.

“I called that one!” Alexandre glares at Elisa, striding over to the two guards still comatose and slumbering.

Elisa smirks and shakes her head, “We should probably knock ‘em out and tie them up.”

Alexandre frowns darkly, “I’m killing one.”  His thinblade is through one of the guardsman’s throats before she can open her mouth to protest.

“Hey!  What part of discretion don’t you understand?” Elisa screams.

“Oh yeah, you know all about discretion!” Alexandre retorts.

“If you two do not show some discretion, you are going to wake up that other guard,” Ruel remarks from above.  Both glare at the wizard, but Elisa leans down and bashes the pommel of her greatsword into the sleeping mans head.  “There, now he won’t wake up.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to all talk of discretion, Loki charges down the fallen guardsman, taking a flying leap at him to avoid the glassy surface of the quarry.  The greataxe comes down into the man’s stomach, as Loki manages to find purchase on the slippery glass as he lands.  The desperate man spasms and reflexively flails at Loki, but is unable to harm him.  Audric runs up and delivers a swift kick to the man’s throat, ending his pain.

“Nice kick,” Loki offers.

Audric looks at the half-giant with a raised eyebrow before sweeping his gaze across the broken buildings of the quarry and the smooth flat of glass covering the ground.  “We should take this corpse back to the map room, I do not think anyone else heard us, but…”

“There’s bound to be another pair of them walking this way eventually,” Loki nods.  “I’ll take the shoulders, you get the legs.”

They return the body and Loki retrieves Ruel and Dox from the ceiling.  Dox and most of the rest of the Irregulars search the bodies of the dead men.  “They have two sets of identification papers and one identifies them with the Emerald Claw… that’s not good.  The other must be a cover.”  Dox reports as he searches the man’s pockets for loose change.

“This sword and this shield look very fine; I think they might have more value than the rest.”  Ruel remarks as he inspects the female.  He carefully sheathes the sword within the Handy Haversack and tosses the shield to Loki, who slings it over his back.

Audric stands in the center of the room, looking at a massive bas-relief set in red marble on the floor of the fairly intact room.  “Might this be the map we are looking for?”

***

Elisa moves to join Ruel, Audric and Loki as they inspect the map, Alexandre is about to follow along when Dox’s hand grips his arm tightly.  The changling is grinning, “I have a great idea!”

“Eh?”

“There’s not a lot of blood on this one that you killed, and this one is unconscious, let’s disguise ourselves as them!  We can scout around while they figure out that map and make sure there’s no more trouble waiting!”

Alexandre cants his head then smirks, slapping the rogue on the back, “Aye, good thinkin’ Dox!  The rest can figure that map out without us.”

The pair divulges the two Emerald Claw soldiers of armor, clothing and identification papers.  They tie up the unconscious soldier and deposit both him and his dead companion back in the canyon the Irregulars entered from.

***

Ruel bends to inspect the Cyre portion of the map.  “It is unlabeled, but there are small marks… here and here, mostly in what used to be Cyre.  Interesting.”

Audric, Loki and Elisa inspect three pairs of statues in the room, “A dragon and a lion in red marble, a wolf and a falcon in white marble, and a knight and a gryphon in black.  What do you make of that?” Loki muses out loud, bending to kick some debris away from the base of the lion’s statue.

Ruel looks up and considers, “Perhaps the white statues hold a clue to the location of Whitehearth… though Fintan made lots of remarks about ‘red’, and we are in Rose Quarry… perhaps if, well… oh!  There were lots of references to stone eyes!   Perhaps we should inspect the eyes of the statues!”

Elisa taps a finger against the white wolf’s eyes, “Looks normal to me.”

“I do not see anything unique about the eyes, but there is a circular plate also made of black marble on the floor here.” Audric announces as he sweeps his foot across broken glass and bits of charred wood and blackened rock.

“Here as well, a red plate,” Loki adds from the opposite side of the room.

“Oh yeah, there’s a white one here,” Elisa taps it with her foot, shaking her head.  “Well, what’s it mean?”

“Where is Dox?  He should take a look at them.”  Ruel lightly flicks a fleck of glass from a depression in the map.

A chainmail clad-hand clasps Ruel’s shoulder, and the wizard wheels to see a grinning Emerald Claw soldier standing over him.  “Oh sh--!” Ruel falls back, reaching for his dagger.

Dox laughs, “It’s just me Ruel!  Hey, why are you so jumpy?”

Behind him, clad less expertly in Emerald Claw attire, Alexandre guffaws and soon the whole group shares a laugh at the wizard’s expense. (1)

“If you are quite done playing dress up, take a look at those statues.  We should see if there is anything hidden on them,” Ruel sourly suggests as the laughter dies down to a few chuckles.

“Right, on it!” Dox clambers awkwardly in his borrowed chainmail over to each statue, inspecting them closely.  After awhile he shakes his head, “They look like normal statues to me.”

“Maybe you should use that _See Invisibility _ scroll Ruel,” Loki sighs and folds his arms.

Ruel frowns, “Perhaps, but the spell would not last forever and I would rather make certain we are in the right place.  Let us wait fifteen minutes and I can prepare Detect Magic.  If there are any illusory effects, I should be able to discern them.”

“And while you are doing that, Alexandre and I will scout around!” Dox pipes in cheerfully.

“Just be careful and do not stray too far,” Audric cautions.

“Yeah, yeah, we won’t,” Alexandre and Dox are already moving out of the room.

Ruel lays out several lengths of parchment over the map, nodding with a smile, “This should work.  Loki, can you find a bit of charred wood or coal and make a rubbing of the Cyre portion of this map while I prepare my spell?”  Loki nods while the wizard moves to a corner, removing a crystalline spellshard from his pack and focusing intently upon it.

***

“Where to first?” Alexandre asks.

“Let’s take a look at all the mining over there,” Dox points out one of the remaining larger structures that’s still mostly intact south of the map room.

The pair of disguised Irregulars walk up to the northern entrance to the room.  Dox strides confidently inside while Alexandre peers in from around the corner.  Inside skeletons and zombies are exhuming more dwarven corpses to bolster the ranks of the Emerald Claw’s undead workforce.  Two bored looking soldiers stand watch over their activities.  Spotting Dox, one nudges his companion and the two of them turn and leave out of the south entrance.

Dox walks back to Alexandre, “Come on let’s, follow them!”

The two of them try to move stealthily along the northern wall to follow the progress of the departing soldiers, though only the undead mining behind them give any real chance of moving without the horrid racket of their borrowed armor being overheard.  As they reach the corner of the building, they watch the two soldiers reach the collection of tents and campfires that marks the Emerald Claw base of operations.  A minute passes, and a second pair of soldiers head out north from the camp.

“I wonder what they are doing,” Dox muses.  “Maybe it’s a shift change?”

Alexandre’s eyes bulge, “They’ll find our handiwork in the map room!  Quick, we have to cut them off!”

***

(1): While Dox and Alexandre's players were working on their disguise idea, I was busy trying to figure out the map.  When Tmaas dropped one of the new (at the time) Emerald Claw soldier minis right next to Ruel, both player and character were equally panicked.


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## haiiro

This SH is marvelous. I'm starting up an Eberron airship campaign of my own, and I was searching for "airships" on the boards when I stumbled across this thread.

This is an ambitious game, and your sense of fun -- and attention to detail -- really stand out. Nice work!


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## Pflume

Just wait it is going to get better. And it is loads of fun.


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## hbarsquared

I love the way you incorporate the random accidents you might have at the game table into your sessions.  From the lovenote to the Emerald Claw mini: they always make sense, and are always good for a laugh!


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #23: A Battery of Bad Bluff Checks*

Well, I had hoped to get another full update done before I leave on vacation tomorrow morning, but thanks to a plumbing mishap in my kitchen, I don't think its going to happen.  I won't leave you completely high and dry (pardon the pun), so here is a small prelude to the next update.

Haiiro and Jeremy_dnd thank you for the kind words, feedback is always wonderful.  As Pflume says, it only gets better... at least our games do.  I'll be doing my best to portray them well.

My next update won't be until after June 18th when I'm back from California.   

***

“Somebody help me get out of this armor!” Alexandre roars as he runs into the map room, struggling to shrug off his heavy chainmail.

Dox scampers in behind him, panting, “More guards are coming!”  Audric quickly moves over to help Alexandre out of his borrowed chainmail, while Elisa and Loki ready their weapons.  Loki moves over to the northern entrance of the room, sliding back against the white wolf statue.

“Try and get them to come through here Dox,” Loki nods to the passage before him.

“Er, right!  I’ll try… if I can’t convince them to go away.”  The changling steps through the doorway, taking a deep breath.  Behind him Ruel grumbles darkly as he retakes his feet, breaking off his meditation.

Approaching the doorway outside the map room, two of the Emerald Claw soldiers look at Dox closely, “Where are the miners?”

He tries to lie smoothly, “Somebody, er… grabbed ‘em for another purpose.”

“Garret didn’t say nothing about them being moved,” the soldier replies, his face darkening, “Nicholas, are you getting them to do your work again?”

Dox grins, “Yeah… you caught me!”

The soldier grins slowly, clearing his throat, “Well, I should probably tell Garret.  Unless you can give me a good reason not to, of course.”

While Dox fumbles in his coin pouch, the other soldier nudges his companion, nodding to a noticeable bloodstain on the glass-encrusted surface.  His partner shoots a suspicious look at Dox, “Hey, what happened here?”

“There was a little accident…” Dox begins.

The soldiers draw their flails.

“Oh hey, there’s something strange in here!” Dox hastily interjects, retreating swiftly into the map room.

As Dox backs into the map room, whispering, “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me…” as loud as he dares, Loki raises his greataxe.  The first Emerald Claw soldier doesn’t see the half-giant until his axe is arching down…


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## Micah

Oh yeah. When Dox's player replied "Uh, I had a little accident with the zombies." He said it in a tone reminiscent of the kid who just put their baseball through the neighbors window. Sometimes it's hard to get the bad guys moving when you're laughing.

jeremy_dnd - glad you don't mind some of the table accidents. My plans go awry quite often. We have a lively group of players who come up with some very unexpected tactics from time to time.

Have a great vacation PhoenixAsh!


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## Krafus

This is still a fun read... Finally, the Irregulars start to do what every self-respecting D&D adventurer has done at least once in his/her/its career: dungeon crawling!


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## MavrickWeirdo

Time for a Bump


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## LordVyreth

Well, we're well past June 18th, so where's our next update?    

I agree that this a very good SH so far.  Out of curiosity, what level are the PCs at this point in the SH?  Still level/ECL 2?  Did you add them to the Rogue's gallery?

Speaking of which, I know the campaign is more about role-playing than combat and the combat usually involves NPCs over monsters, but if you want some help with new monsters, I'd be happy to offer my services.  I've made a ton of new monsters for my campaign and I've worked with Wizadru for his SH as well.  Let me know if you're interested.


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## tmaaas

The PCs are still 2nd level. 

We don't really keep track of XP (for wizards we use a craft reserve instead of "real" XP). Basically, we plan on levelling based on two primary considerations: keeping the game fun for the players and when it fits the story.

LordVyreth,

Thanks for the offer regarding the monsters. If I need something specially interesting at some point (I already have a fair number of resources), I may take you up on it. However, since we only play once a month that point may be some years from now...

--tmaaas


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## PhoenixAsh

The next update is nearly complete, and will be posted quite soon!  I should be getting back on track with some quicker updates after this one but, as often occurs when I return from vacation, work piled up on me.   

That craft reserve Tmass mentioned is half of what an artificer would get.  It might be unbalancing towards an artificer, but we don't have any PC artificers so who is to say?  It does allow Ruel to make a lot of cheap scrolls, which have definetly come in handy.  In fact, in our last session, I'm pretty sure it saved his life...

One of the penalties for being an 'entertainer wizard' is that the caster level pre-req for item creation feats is one higher than for a normal wizard, which probably keeps me from taking too much advantage of this 'free exp'.  

Hmm... a rogue's gallery thread... that's a good idea LordVyreth, I'll try and get cracking on that idea.

Thank you everyone for your patience and bumps, I will try and make the coming updates worth the wait!


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #24: Finding Whitehearth*

Loki’s axe glances off the stone arch and strikes the soldier’s shoulder, drawing sparks and a grunt from the man, but failing to pierce his armor.  Hastily he raises his flail and shield to answer the attack, but his eyes are suddenly drawn to the half-elf behind the half-giant, and for a brief moment, _Dazed_, his thoughts cloud and he forgets to attack.  Behind Loki, Elisa and Audric move forward, waiting to attack but unable to join the fight in the cramped doorway.  Seeing the bottleneck, Dox quickly runs out of the southern passage and Ruel hurries after him as his spell ends.

Loki recovers from his errant swing and sends his greataxe hurtling towards the soldier, who brings his shield up and grits his teeth as the blow hammers his guard, the shock threatening to numb his arm.  Backing away from the half-giant, he shouts to his companion, “Run, fool!  Get reinforcements!”

Audric is upon him in an instant.  Springing past Loki he charges the soldier, hooking an arm around his neck and bearing down.  The soldier’s knees bend but do not buckle and he slides out of the monk’s grip, escaping from the grapple.  Loki is on the soldier again a moment later, however, and his chainmail is not enough to protect him from a third strike that shears flesh and chain from his side.  The soldier’s desperate counterattack glances off of Loki’s breastplate and his eyes widen as the half-giant raises his greataxe for a killing blow.  While he focuses on the coming attack something slams into his injured side, and the searing pain is relieved by an icy numbness, then darkness.

Audric wriggles his foot free from the slumped over guard’s side with a grimace, wiping the gore off on his emerald tabard.

“Nice kick,” Loki smiles as he let’s the axe head fall to crunch into the glassy debris below.

Meanwhile, Elisa charges right past the melee, quickly making up ground on the soldier's fleeing partner.  Her greatsword lashes out, and the man screams as she opens a long gash from back to thigh with the blade.  Desperately he tries to leap a low stone wall and put distance between him and the much faster woman, but his legs give out and he trips over it instead.  Elisa has no trouble leaping the barrier, and her blade plunges into the soldier’s back as she lands over him.  As she yanks her sword free, Ruel and Dox run onto the scene, but lower their weapons as they find the situation well in hand.

As they drag the bodies back into the map room, they find Alexandre still hastily divesting himself of his armor.  “You can relax, we took care of it,” Elisa smirks as she sheathes her blade.  Alexandre curses colorfully and Audric chuckles, returning to help him remove the rest of the chainmail and replace it with his usual leathers.

***

Ruel frowns, his eyes glowing violet under the effect of _Detect Magic_ as he scans the map room, “The only item that shows any magical aura is the shield.”  Studying it a minute further he nods, “Abjuration.  It is probably a simple defensive enhancement.  But if there is no other magic here, it seems unlikely that this is the map we are looking for.  I should see some sort of illusion if the _See Invisibility_ scroll is to be of any use.”

Dox grins, “I have an idea!  We still have one of the soldiers alive, right?  I can pretend to be his partner and you can pretend to tie me up next to him.  Then we can see what he knows!”

Ruel considers a moment, nodding, “Very well, I will play the part of interrogator.”

Dox is soon made to appear trussed up next to the sole surviving Emerald Claw soldier the Irregulars have encountered, and he shifts his appearance to imitate the man’s companion whom Alexandre skewered earlier.  He nods to Ruel who takes out his waterskin and splashes the soldier, then slaps Dox across the face, launching into a barrage of questions that the changling stoutly refuses to answer as the soldier slowly comes to.  Ruel shifts his questions to the soldier.

“What’s your name?” he barks.

“Lambrose,” the soldier groggily replies.

“How many of you are here?”

The soldier clamps his mouth shut and glares hard at the wizard.  Quickly Ruel draws and loads his crossbow, pointing it at Lambrose’s face and shouting, “How many?”  The two of them lock eyes.  A bead of sweat rolls down Ruel’s cheek and his arm begins to shake.  The soldier smirks and spits up into the wizard’s face.  “Do your worst.”

“Perhaps one of the others will be interested in having their lives spared!” Ruel retorts as he wipes his face and walks through the archway.  Standing at the doorway, Elisa glares at Lambrose while thumbing her greatsword a moment before following Ruel, leaving the soldier and the rogue alone.

Dox shifts and struggles against his bonds a moment before whispering, “What do you think we should do?”

Lambrose snorts, “They’re dead already.  Just wait until Garrow gets a hold of them.”

Dox nods and struggles again with his ropes.  Lambrose watches with interest, “Can you get free, comrade?”

“No, no they’ve got me tied up pretty good.  What are we going to do?” Dox repeats.

“Either our comrades will rescue us, or we will die as the faithful!” Lambrose declares, his expression set and his eyes gleaming as he stares past Dox.

“Yes, but do you think if we made enough noise…?”

“With all that mining?” Lambrose shakes his head, then laughs and gestures with his chin towards the map room.  “If Garrow can’t figure it out, those bumblers never will!”

Dox sighs and leans back against the wall, “Did you get any duty with the miner’s this week, I didn’t…  Hey, stay with me!”  Dox jabs the man’s leg with his foot as his head begins to slump over again.  He only mutters incoherently as his shoulders continue to sag.

Dox suddenly surges to his feet, pretending to break free from his bonds.  The soldier raises his head and focuses on Dox again, “Excellent!  Now we can die fighting, as soldiers of the Emerald Claw should!”

Dox hesitates a moment, “I should try and alert the others though… and get rid of these meddlers.  Where was Garrow when last you saw him?”

“Digging up graves.  You must have taken a nasty knock on the head if you don’t remember that!” Lambrose slurs with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, they got me pretty good.” Dox bites his lip.

“They got me pretty good too,” Lambrose winces again.  “Worse than you I think, I can’t make it very far.  Let me free, I’ll distract them and you can make a break for our camp.”

Dox nods, then steps forward, peering around the doorway.  He whispers back to Lambrose, “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”  Stepping through, he casually strolls up to where the rest of the Irregulars are waiting.

“What did you find out?” Ruel whispers.

“Its not going well for them, their boss is named Garrow and he’s been in the graveyard trying to decipher something or another.”

Alexandre cocks his head, “I don’t remember anyone else but those other guards there.”

Dox blinks, then frowns.  “Oh yeah.  That’s weird.”

Ruel shakes his head, “Did you find out how long their guard shifts are?”

Dox’s expression sinks again, “No.  Hang on, I’ll go find out!”

Half the Irregulars open their mouths to protest.  But Dox has already turned the corner.

Lambrose looks up expectantly, “Well?”

“I must have hit my head harder than I thought… do you know when the next shift change will be?  Maybe we can wait until they get here to sound the alarm.”

“Lambrose sighs, “No good.  We’re still at least a few hours from the next change.  You’ll have to get to the camp now.  Come on, let me free!”  The soldier’s eyes are wide and desperate, and he struggles again with his bonds.

Dox holds up a finger and runs around the corner again, once again returning to the Irregulars.  “The next shift change isn’t for another few hours, we have time.”

Ruel nods, “Then we have time to search.  Let us see if we can find any other maps or clues in the rest of the site, before we use the scroll.”

Loki sighs, “What do we do with Dox’s friend in there?”

Alexandre folds his arms and nods decisively, “Let’s finish him off.”

“Oh come on!  He’s helpless, let’s just leave him be!” Elisa retorts.

“I don’t want to leave him alone in there, I mean, what if he escapes?  But I’m not so sure we should just kill him either.” Dox waffles.

Audric shakes his head, “I will take care of him.”  He steps around the corner and moves to the bound soldier.  His shoulders have slumped again, but he looks up blearily at the monk.  Before he can call out, Audric jabs a pressure point in his neck and Labrose lists back over to his side.   Checking his pulse, Audric nods to himself and returns to join the rest of the party.

“Come on, let’s search the grounds.” 

The Irregulars search the area thoroughly.  They find a glass encrusted mine shaft and Audric is carefully lowered inside, only to find it sealed off with nothing more than a charred piece of mournful dwarven poetry of interest.  They search broken and demolished exterior buildings, but find charred wood, stone, glass and little more.  Finally, they return to the graveyard where the skeletal workers continue to mine for bodies, even without any Emerald Claw soldiers or reasonable facsimiles on watch.  Beside the graveyard is the last unexplored building, but the only entrance is right by the bustling undead.

Dox, still in the guise of an Emerald Claw soldier and Ruel, after casting _Disguise Self_ to look similar to the rogue enter the building unmolested.  Once again they find nothing akin to a map, though Dox does discover an ornate chalice buried underneath a giant lump of glass.  Dox starts chipping at the glass with his dagger, but has difficulty making any progress.  Ruel returns to the Irregulars gathered outside the graveyard, and Loki is sent in to help dig out the goblet.  The Irregulars prepare to engage the undead if they should leave their tasks, but they ignore the half-giant as he passes within a few feet of them.  Loki makes short work of the interposing glass and the chalice is retrieved.  The party returns to the map room.

“Nothing.  Unless those soldiers are camped right over the map, this must be it.” Ruel declares.  “I will use the scroll.”

Loki grumbles, “We could have saved a lot of time if we had just done that in the first place.”

Dox grins, “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have found this!”  He flecks crusted bits of glass from the rim of the goblet, eyeing it closely.  “It looks valuable to me.”

Loki shrugs as Ruel recites the _See Invisibility_ scroll.  The wizard’s shoulders slump a moment later.  “Nothing!”  He steps closer to the red lion and dragon statue, circling it and inspecting it as close as he can.  He pauses as he examines the back of the lion’s neck, “Wait, there is something here.  It is very small, it says: Tallis, Black Seal, E4.”  Ruel quickly checks the back of the dragon’s broad neck.  “There is another one here: Whitehearth, White Seal, NE9.  Whitehearth!” He looks up with a grin, before quickly moving to the rest of the statues and writing down a similar series of text on the back of each statue.

Elisa laughs, “I guess you were right Loki.  But what does that mean?”

Loki smiles, “Easy.  E4 and NE9.  Those are compass directions.”  Loki moves towards the white statues, standing on the white marble slab on the ground beside them.  He looks at the map, now east of him.  “The number is probably the number of paces from these colored slabs to reach them on the map.”

Ruel raises his eyebrows and nods, “Indeed, quite clever Loki.  But I imagine they are not half-giant paces, if you will allow me.”  Following each set of directions, the Irregulars find Loki’s theory to be correct and soon the rubbing of the Cyre portion of their map is filled with not only Whitehearth’s location, but also several more House Cannith sites.

As Ruel carefully rolls up their map, it is Audric who sees they are being watched.  A tall, emaciated figure stands outside the southern entrance of the map room, swathed in a black silk cloak, with a long scar running down his cheek and blood red eyes.  He grins at the monk, displaying long tapered canines.  As Audric calls out a warning, he laughs and addresses the Irregulars with a gravely voice, “What have we here?  I must thank you for shedding light on this puzzle of a map, alas that is not enough to make up for your trespasses here.  To me, my warriors while I feast on their blood!”  He gestures briefly and dissipates into mist.  As the Irregulars draw their weapons, a few humanoid shapes move forward into the obscuring fog.  

Undaunted, Alexandre raises his thinblade and charges.  Halfway there he balks and his feet slide and skitter across glass and debris and as he hastily tries to arrest his charge.  There are over twenty Emerald Claw soldiers surging forward to attack!


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

Yeah, more story!

But next time be sure to assign a lookout while you are solving a puzzle


----------



## tmaaas

Ah, yes. Solving the puzzle of the map. Loki's player did a great job; it only took a couple minutes once they found the coordinates.

Now finding the coordinates was a different story. Invisible writing that doesn't detect magic. Threw the PCs for a loop for quite a while. Fun for me, of course.

-- tmaaas


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## Micah

We just played tonight and all I can say is that I can't wait for this session to hit the story forums.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #25: The Race to Whitehearth*

The crew of the airship _Liralen _are, by and large, a drilled and disciplined lot.  Even with only one passenger on board; elemental supports and the bindings and wards that hold her elementals in place are checked and rechecked, griffons and pinnances are cared for in their stables and bays, decks are swabbed and supplies are inspected, and the business of running the largest airship in the Lyrandar fleet runs like clockwork.  Everything is in order.

Everything, that is, except the quarters and workshop of the ship’s artificer, Levic.  Ruel enters this small haven of chaos, shoving back metallic debris, brick-a-bract in need of repair, and half-finished inventions from the doorway.  Carefully, he picks his way through the junk to reach the artificer, who is leaning over his desk and tinkering with a small, darkwood box.

“Levic, we will be descending shortly and I was wondering if…”

“Ruel!” Levic interrupts, spinning in his chair and grinning at the wizard.  “I’ve done it, just in time too!”

Ruel blinks, “That is nice Levic… but, what is it you have done?”

Levic proudly holds out the darkwood box, carelessly kicking through other unattended projects as he strides up to the wizard, “I call it a callbox!  It combines the effects of _Locate Object_ and _Sending _to send a signal to the receiver…” Levic gestures vaguely to a lump of iron with protruding cable hanging from his wall, “…from nearly anywhere!  Try it!  Go on, just flip the switch!”  The small box is shoved into Ruel’s arms.

Bemused, Ruel flips the switch, and the room resounds with Levic’s voice, emanating from the lump on the wall.  “Callbox active.  Location: 15 feet south by southwest.  Callbox active.  Location…” Ruel flips the switch off with a grimace.  “A touch loud is it not?”

Levic beams, “Isn’t it great?!  By channeling the effect specifically to the callbox, I have been able to extend the range by a factor of hundreds!  You could be on the other side of the Mournlands and it would still tell us exactly where you are!”

Ruel lifts the box, sizing it up once more and smiles, “Quite ingenious Levic.  A _Magic Mouth_ effect for the receiver I assume.  You will have to show me how you managed to extend its range so far.  But we will be descending in a few minutes, and I was curious if you would be able to cast some infusions on us before we leave.”

Fortunato clambers to the doorway of Levic’s quarters behind them both and the warforged cook’s eyes swivel to the artificer.  “Levic, your icebox is malfunctioning again.  Half the kitchen floor is covered in ice.  Cynde nearly broke her leg.”

Levic winces and shakes his head, “Sorry Ruel, duty calls!  Oh, it’s for you guys of course, keep it.  I hope you get a chance to use it, I want to see it work from that range…” he begins as he moves to the doorway, grabbing a kit nearly bursting with tools, “Wait… that would mean things are going badly wouldn’t it?  Well, I hope you don’t have to use it then.  But… well… er… gotta go!”

***

While Garrow gloats over the Irregulars in Rose Quarry, Ruel grimaces and reaches into the Handy Haversack, retrieving the callbox and flipping its switch.  As Garrow dissolves into mist Ruel mutters under his breath, “You have your wish Levic, this better work.”

Alexandre turns and scrambles back into the map room, “Twenty of ‘em, at least!”

Ruel swallows and steps to the fore of the group, incanting swiftly while flicking a small pad of batter out of his pouch and towards the southern entryway.  A thick pool of _Grease _blossoms from it, spreading over the entirety of the southern passage.  Elisa considers the odds briefly and shakes her head, “Run for it!”  She sprints around the corner and back the way the Irregulars came.  The rest of the party is right on her heels.

The Emerald Claw soldiers move in.  The first pushes his way through the rest only to lose his balance on the pool of _Grease _and fall heavily.  A second soldier tries to leap over the first, but severely misjudges his ability and falls over the other guard.  The narrow entryway is jammed with the floundering soldiers.  Last to leave the map room, Ruel grins as he runs past Loki and Dox, “We should have a good head start!”

Loki nods curtly, gripping his greataxe as he assumes rear guard for the fleeing Irregulars.  Elisa and Audric have almost cleared the canyon and Ruel and Alexandre are not far behind, but in his borrowed chainmail, Dox is struggling and they are falling farther and farther behind.  Already Loki can hear the soldiers clambering into the map room.  Suddenly he stops and looks up the canyon walls.  Stepping back a few more paces he focuses his energies and takes a mighty leap, _Stomping _the ground heavily.  The canyon walls crumble as boulders and a whole section of the slope tumble down to bar the way for their pursuit.  As he catches up with Dox again, Loki smiles broadly, “Now we will have a better head start.”

The Irregulars reach the high ground of the canyon entrance, but the great pit in the earth they flew over before looms as a barrier between them and the pinnance.  Dox and Alexandre struggle to divest the changling of his armor, while Audric crosses the narrow metal railway suspended over the gaping pit, with easy grace.  Elisa tries to climb down the slope to find an easier spot to jump the pit, but loses her grip and nearly cracks her skull open on a rock, only barely grabbing a hold of the ledge to keep from sliding down the incline.  Rising, she carefully steps back and leaps for the other side.  Unfortunately, the rock underneath her foot gives way as she lands and she tips precariously at the edge of the chasm and flailing, just barely manages to grip an exposed pipe and haul herself onto the ledge.  She climbs back up and Audric grips her hand to pull her up on to the opposite side.  Elisa collapses and takes several deep breaths while Audric sizes up the remaining Irregulars on the other side, “I do not think they can make a crossing here.  Let’s get Wydeth to get the pinnance across the chasm.”  Helping Elisa to her feet again, the two of them run up to the pinnance, where Wydeth is already making hasty preparations to take off.  As they jump onboard Elisa barks, “Wydeth!  Get us over the other side, quick!”

The Pinnance is up and over the narrow gap between the rock faces in a matter of seconds, long enough for Dox to finally removed the rest of his armor.  Wydeth brings the pinnance to a hover just above the rocky walls.  Audric grips the young Lyrandar pilot on the shoulder, “Down!  Take us down!  We need to pick them up quickly!”

“No way!  I’m not risking that again!” Wydeth declares flatly.

Elisa grabs a length of rope and leans over the edge of the pinnance, ready to drop it down to the group below.  The vessel lurches with the movement, and bumps against the rock face before Wydeth straightens it out again.  “Are you trying to get us killed?!” He screams, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the controls.  “You’ll tip her over!”

Audric squints ahead in the near dark.  “The other side, past that divide.  It is a lot more open there and that chasm is not nearly as treacherous.  Can you land there?”

Wydeth looks ahead and nods, “No problem.  Just sit still while I bring her down, okay?”  Sweat trickles down his brow, but he brings the pinnance down safely in the wider opening.  The rest of the crew cross the smaller chasm safely, though both Ruel and Loki slip and suffer minor bruises before making it across.  Wydeth guides the pinnance up and out of the canyon, and free of Rose Quarry.  On the way back they see a second pinnance descending towards them, loaded with another group of _Liralen _crew and Ruel laughs, retrieving the callbox.  “I guess Levic’s toy worked after all.”  Both pinnances return to the ship and dock in short order.

***

The _Liralen _is already preparing to depart.  As the Irregulars disembark from the pinnance Aloysius, the ship’s first mate, approaches them.  “Grelyn tells me the campsite down there is a flurry of activity.  I hope you managed to get directions for us.”

Ruel nods, “Yes indeed and we must hurry, the Emerald Claw is down there and they are heading for Whitehearth as well.”  He produces the map and the two go to the flight deck to plot a course towards Whitehearth.  The ship’s elemental ring flares to life and the _Liralen _leaves Rose Quarry.

Elaydren bursts into the flight deck moments later, “What did you find?”  All three smile and stand back from the map.  She leans over it, studying it silently for a long moment then grinning, “This is perfect!  Several of these are other lost Cannith sites!  Very well done!”  She clears her throat, “Captain, how long will it take to get to Whitehearth?”

“By my reckoning we should be roughly over the area in two hours.  But it is in the Mournlands, and the gray mists will make precise navigation impossible.  We will need a ground expedition to reconnoiter the area; the second team will see to that.  Ruel, you and your friends should visit the healers and get some rest; you may well be called upon in the morning.”

Ruel nods quickly and returns to the rest of the Irregulars, who are unloading the collected loot recovered from Rose Quarry.  Levic and Oliver d’Sivis stand nearby, looking over each item.  “The shield is magical eh?” Levic lifts it up and frowns at the emblem on the front.  “Not going to be able to sell it with that though.  I’ll take a look at the lot of it and let you know what it comes out to Oliver.”  The gnome nods and smiles to the Irregulars, “I will let you know what your share is, after we are done with all of this business of course.”  The pair trot off, earnestly discussing the finer details of the retail value of each item.

“So, what now?” Dox asks.

“We will be over Whitehearth in a couple hours, but the other group will be going down first.  We are to rest and be ready to go down ourselves in the morning.” Ruel replies.

***

Ruel's shoulder still aches uncomfortably from his fall in Rose Quarry.  Grelyn applied a bandage for the abrasions, but prescribed bed rest as a curative for the bruising.  Leaning down from a rail on the deck above the pinnance bay and watching the second party prepare for departure, Ruel is delaying taking his medicine.  His expression is clouded as he watches them and it has little to do with the pain.  Enough falls, tumbles and turned joints had accompanied his upbringing and training with House Phiarlan and he never had time to baby his injuries.

Kashandi is among the half-dozen crew preparing to depart for the Mournlands, still uncharacteristically silent and somber since receiving the love note that he had altered and delivered to her.  He feels a small pang of guilt and considers telling her of his alterations.  He then considers the possibility of their rivalry turning really ugly, of making another enemy like Dysinth.  He shudders and averts his gaze towards Fortunato.

Despite his objections to Ravien, the warforged cook will be forced to see the blasted remains of what used to be Cyre.  His movements as he loads his gear into the pinnance seem mechanical… Ruel smirks and shakes his head.  They always do.  He cannot help but wonder what is going through Fortunato’s mind behind his unblinking expression.

Cynde d’Lyrandar skips into the pinnance bay with a cheerful grin, “This is going to be great!  I’ve wanted to try out a pinnance since I first got on board!  Hey Krynson, can you do any tricks?”

The pilot looks back at her and rolls his eyes with a small smile, “Not this time Cynde.”

“Aw, he’s no fun is he Fort?” She slaps Fortunato’s broad back, still grinning.  “Hey, can you put this in for me?  I have to get a few potions from the kitchen.”  Fortunato smiles and nods, and the young scullery girl bounces back the way she came.

Ruel intercepts her as she returns from the kitchen, before reaching the pinnance bay.  "Cynde, pardon me, may I have a brief moment of your time?"

"Sure!" she replies.

"I was hoping that you would take these.  One is for Fortunato, the other is... well, also for Fortunato but for you to use.  He has told me you can cast a spell or two."  He hands over a small bundle, a crossbow and twenty bolts and a _Repair Light Damage_ scroll.  "Just in case.  He does not have a ranged weapon, and he probably should."  Ruel shrugs.  "They might come in handy, would you mind terribly taking them with you?"

Cynde smiles and studies the scroll, her short cropped hair bobbing around her face.  "Hey thanks, these might come in handy! It's hard to imagine Fortunato getting hurt but yeah, just in case. . ." she grins and raises the scroll to her temple in a mock salute as she saunters back to the pinnace bay.

“Isn’t that sweet?”  Kashandi emerges from a side passage, folding her arms as she smirks at Ruel.  “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

“You are one to talk of such things.” Ruel retorts quietly.

Kashandi glares at the wizard, “Nice job fetching the map for us, by the way.  The captain is wise to let the real professionals handle things from here.  We’ll have the schema back while you lot lick your wounds.  But Cynde is my friend, if you hurt her, I’ll-”

“Unlike certain people who have boarded this ship,” Ruel interrupts, “My sole motivation is not simply to bed members of the crew.”

“And just what are you implying?” The bard’s voice is ice.

Ruel smiles slightly, “I am certain he is thinking about you right now.”

Kashandi's face goes pale and she whispers, “How do you know about that?”

Ruel rolls his eyes, watching the ceiling as he replies, “Its very obvious Kashandi.  Jasper practically drools when he watches you.”

Kashandi strides up to the wizard, “You just mind your own damn business.”  The two lock eyes for a long moment.  Ruel is the first to avert his gaze.  Kashandi harrumphs and stalks down the passage.

“Kashandi?

The bard pauses in mid-step.

“Good luck.”

***

The pinnance departs in the early morning hours and is gone well past when the Irregulars have slept, prepared equipment and spells and even had a full breakfast.  They wait with Wydeth by their pinnance as it nears mid-day; silent as they have long since finished talking plans and tactics.  There has been no signal from below on the callbox receiver.  Captain D’meryl enters the bay and approaches them.

“I think we must consider the possibility that the second team has met an unfortunate fate.  Wydeth, I’d like you to take the pinnance and begin to sweep over the site and see if you can locate their vessel.  You’ll have to fly close to ground, so Gemma will accompany you with one of the griffons.  Now I don’t want you t-“

“Captain! Captain! They’re coming back!” Errol announces breathlessly as he comes running into the pinnance bay.

The bay doors are opened and the pinnance flies up and through, teetering to its side and crashes down to the deck.  Both the vessel and her crew are in very bad shape.


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## LordVyreth

How do you handle player split-ups when only part of the party goes on a mission?  What do the other players do in the meantime, or are they staying behind because the player is missing for that game?  What about that second team mission, where only one PC and a bunch of NPCs went on the mission?


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## PhoenixAsh

Mostly when there is a player split up, it's due to player absence.  The part inbetween Rose Quarry and Whitehearth was actually just a few minutes of actual game time, and the details were filled in between sessions in play-by-email fashion between myself and Micah.  The second team of _Liralen _crew were simply NPCs and Tmass and Micah informed us of the results of their trip down before we went down ourselves.

The fight with the skeletons was the only real party split up where we were at the game table and some PCs elected not to take part, and in that Micah and Tmaas let us play NPCs or play the monsters instead.

Fortunato's player has actually left our group and he is an NPC at this point, unfortunately his player's buisness consumed too much of his time and he had to leave us.  So at this point there are just 6 PCs, though that too will change in the near future.

I hope that answers your questions and thank you very much for reading.


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## Krafus

I'm still reading and still enjoying.



> The two lock eyes for a long moment. Ruel is the first to avert his gaze.




Tsk. What did Ruel have to be ashamed of? (Aside from his... creative rewriting of part of Jasper's letter, but that hardly counts, does it?  )



> So at this point there are just 6 PCs, though that too will change in the near future.




For better or worse?


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## PhoenixAsh

What does Ruel have to be ashamed of?

Nothing!  He is totally beating Kashandi in both performances and adventuring at this point!    But seriously...

Ever perform a practical joke that you thought would be hilarious but turned out to actually be really hurtful to the person and it made you start feeling really bad about doing it?

That's Ruel at this point.  Although as a player I was having particular fun with this at the DMs expense as often as possible, of course.  

***

The player number as a change for the better or for the worse?

Hmm... well let me answer that question like this: On the one hand, a new player and a new character will join the party shortly, on the other hand the session that we just played and that Micah is so eager to see written involved a CR 10 encounter.

Said new character cast an _Augury_ before the encounter started.  The answer she got back was 'Woe'.


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## MavrickWeirdo

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> Said new character cast an _Augury_ before the encounter started.  The answer she got back was 'Woe'.




Whoa


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Interlude: A Harrowing Descent*

With Micah's permission, I'm posting one of the interludes she has given us between sessions, this one on the experience of the second group of _Liralen _crew and written from Kashandi's perspective.  Hey, most everything comes from Ruel's point of view, so it's only fair right?   

And another update on the Irregulars will be up later this week.

***

Kashandi once more found herself in the pinnace headed towards possible danger.  Internally she berated herself for the parting verbal shots that she'd parried with Ruel.  That was part of what had got her stuck in thiswhole mess anyways.  Why did she have to be so ready to step even into dangerto show up the _Liralen's_ wizard entertainer?  And yet had the competition between her and Ruel not existed she might well be in the same boat.
Kashandi sighed.  She'd grown a touch reckless with the life she'd been given. 

Recklessness was a good anesthetic to dwelling on ones past faults, but it did little to ease the bite of fear.

A random thought told her that fear too might have numbing effects, but right now it just seemed to pull her thoughts back to the things she wished she'd done different.  The big things and the little things.  Perhaps she should have stayed with Yira.  Perhaps she should've refrained from kicking at Ruel's ego.  She stifled another sigh.  Perhaps given enough exposure one would grow accustomed to fear.

She looked around at her companions. The red-bearded sailor looked no different than he did on board the ship.  Crew Eight was divided along it's length with a privacy wall, but conversation carried in the tight quarters.  To her knowledge she'd heard him respond only with yes and no.  He was an island unto himself for the most part.  An ever watching and vigilant island, just a very quiet one.

She knew Cynde much better.  The alchemist was up at the front of the small elemental ship, peppering the pilot with questions on the handling of the elemental powered craft.  She appeared to be bouncy and cheerful despite the unsettling gray mists that roiled about them.

The griffon rider and guard sitting on the final bench of the pinnace both had drawn expressions, but Kashandi didn't really imagine that either of them were actually afraid.  They both looked the picture of seasoned veterans and briefly she wondered if they even found the situation boring.

The only other occupant of the small vessel that seemed to be showing apprehension was the warforged.  Perched squarely in the middle of the bench at the airman's request to try and keep the boat stabilized, 42NAT0 did not look comfortable.  He shifted uneasily and kept his eyes turned towards the bottom of the boat.

Hesitantly Shandi tried to start the conversation, "Are you OK, Fortunato?"  

The warforged brought his gaze to meet her own. "I do not want to be here."  He said simply.  She sighed, "I'm not sure I want to be either."

Fortunato cocked his head in wonderment "But you told Ruel…"

The statement never got completed before the pinnace landed roughly on the ground. Ground that no one, including the pilot, had seen through the thick mist.  Cynde the only member of the ground party who had been standing at the time was thrown from the craft.  Her sharp cry was almost drowned out by the cursing from Maddy, the griffon rider. The pilot raised his face from the helm, a deep gash over one eye caused by the impact of the sudden landing.  The boards beneath 42NAT0 were splintered and Kashandi sat motionless waiting for her heart to stop racing.  They were in the Mournland now.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #26: Whitehearth and a White Wolf*

Fortunato is the first to exit the pinnance, and though his plating is scored and rent in areas, he appears in fairly good shape.  Over both shoulders he holds the limp forms of Cynde and Kashandi.  “They need the healer’s attention, quickly,”Is all that he offers as he marches straight towards the healing bay.  Maddy Treagar is next, a fresh cut contrasting the mark of handling across her temple and cheek.  She supports a limping Kyrjet d’Lyrandar and both nod grimly to D’meryl as they follow Fortunato.  Redbeard is behind them, holding a large sack over one shoulder and a wicked looking double scimitar.  His arms and legs are laced with scores of gashes, claw and teeth marks.  The deckhand pauses and drops the sack, fishing around in it and retrieving a small blue rod with a Cannith seal inscribed in mithral at one end, which he tosses to Alexandre.  “Elaydren said it would be important in Whitehearth, called it a keystone.”  With a shrug, he hefts the sack again and walks off to join the rest.  Krynson, the pilot, is the last to step free of the craft, coughing as he shuffles forward to stand at attention before Captain D’meryl.  A bandage is wrapped around his head and over one eye.

“At ease.” D’meryl steps forward to help the pilot sit against his craft, “What happened Krynson?”

“Rough landing, sir.  Bruised my ribs, maybe broken, I don’t know.  Pinnance was damaged and I couldn’t get back right away.  Ran into a lot of trouble, a lot of strange things down there.  And healing magic and potions are no good, either.”  Krynson coughs violently before continuing, “We think we found the entrance to Whitehearth sir, but we dared not go any further after that damned crab attack.  We got it though sir, it should be safe, at least until you go inside.  Wydeth.”  The other pinnance pilot moves over.  “Here’s a map, should get you there.  Go down real slow, visibility is awful.”  He winces and is racked by coughing again, doubling over.  As he brings his hands away from his mouth, they are covered in blood.

“Alright Krynson, you’re coming with me to the healing bay, on the double.”  D’meryl helps him to his feet and Errol comes over to help support the pilot as well.  “Wydeth, take them down.  The sooner we are done with our mission, the sooner we can leave this blasted place.”

As the captain, pilot and cabin boy leave, Wydeth looks to the Irregulars and smiles nervously, “I guess a few scratches on the hull weren’t so much to worry about after all, huh?  Come on, let’s get this over with.”

***

The descent through the dead gray mists is nerve-racking but uneventful and following Krynson’s directions, Wydeth puts them down right next to the opening of a nondescript mineshaft.  As soon as the Irregulars disembark Wydeth lifts off, waving briefly as he flies back upward.  In seconds, the air-elemental powered pinnance is lost to their sight in the mists.

Ruel retrieves their ever-burning lantern and shines it down the mineshaft, revealing a long, dusty tunnel.  Dox moves forward and inspects the mouth of the passage for any nasty surprises.  A moment later he leads the way down the mine, the rest of the Irregulars following closely.  Mining equipment, much of it still in good order, lines the passage and worn and crude stone tiles line the floor of the cave.  Loki pauses to retrieve a pick, inspecting it a moment before putting it in his pack.  “Sure doesn’t look much like a secret Cannith facility.”

Dox nods, “I’ll bet that was the idea.”

The mine tunnel branches in three directions and they follow the middle of the three to find a heavy metallic slab lying on the ground at the end of it.

Dox inspects it carefully and looks up, “No traps and it’s sealed tight, but take a look at this.”  He points out a small, blue enameled circular opening in the center of the hatch.

Alexandre retrieves the blue keystone and peers closely between it and the opening, “Looks to me like it would fit.”

Ruel nods, shining the lantern about them.  “Let us make certain there is nothing else of interest down the other passages first, before we try going down any further.”

They search out the other two passages only to find the same metallic slab with a blue keyhole at the end of each.  Dox frowns as he inspects the cover on the left-hand branch.  “This one is definitely trapped, magically.  I’d rather not try it.”

Audric shakes his head, “But the other two are not?  Are you certain?”

Dox nods, “Pretty sure, yeah.”

Ruel incants briefly and his eyes glow violet.  He studies the cover for a long moment; moves to the central cover and then to the left-hand cover before returning to the rest of the Irregulars gathered around the right.  “All of them have several potent and overlapping magical auras.  I am not certain what to make of it.”

The Irregulars file back into the branch in the corridors, inspecting each closely for any other clues on how to proceed.  Elisa bends to run her hand over the flagstone in the central passage.  “Ruel, bring your light a little closer would ya?”

The wizard obliges and kneels to inspect the stone, “I’m no dwarf, but it does look more worn than the other two, doesn’t it?”

Elisa nods, “My thought too.  I’ll bet this is the right way down.”

Alexandre smirks as he leans against the corridor wall behind them, “Good a guess as any, let’s give it a try.”

Elisa rises and moves forward to stand over the cover, holding the blue keystone.  The rest of the party stands back, Ruel closest to give her just enough light to work with.  It is hardly an inspiring show of support.  Licking her lips, she gingerly slides the keystone into the slot and quickly steps back.  Nothing happens.  Swallowing she taps the keystone carefully with her fingers.  Nothing.  At last she steels herself and twists the rod and as she steps back the slab swings open, revealing a short tunnel and a ladder down into a spherical chamber below.  Oddly, the ladder is not attached to the top of the sphere nor the bottom, but is suspended in air.  Two lanterns are also suspended in the air, illuminating the interior, and she can see that at the bottom of the sphere is a small central metal sphere with several openings similar to the blue slot on the tunnel cover, except those below are a mix of blue, brown and green.  At a gesture from her the rest of the Irregulars gather around the opening and peer down inside.

“What do you suppose would happen if we used this in those slots down there?” Dox ventures.

Alexandre grins, “Only one way to find out!”

Audric looks to the metal hatch and shakes his head, “Let’s brace this open with some of that mining equipment.  I don’t want this closing on us while we’re down there.”

After bracing the metal hatch open, the Irregulars climb down the ladder and cram into the chamber.  It is cramped, and finding purchase on the curved floor is difficult.  Dox looks over the various openings in the central sphere.  “I can’t find any kind of traps on any of these, I think it’s safe.”

Loki is braced uncomfortably against the wall and lifts his eyebrows, “We’re going to be in a bad way if it’s trapped.  Are you sure?”

Ruel smiles, “Only one way to find out.”  He inserts the blue keystone into one of the blue slots along the circumference of the sphere and twists.  Slowly the chamber begins to turn and spin downward and the Irregulars are forced to pedal their legs to keep their places.  The opening at the top slides down until the end of the blue keystone is pointing towards it, revealing a metal hatch.  The sphere comes to a rest with a gentle click.  Everyone releases a pent breath while Dox inspects it.  “It’s not trapped and it’s not locked.”

The party readies their weapons as Dox swings the hatch open.  Inside is a long corridor, its stones charred and scorched in several places.  Behind a burnt out door and frame, a blackened room glows as if with a merry flame.

Dox looks to the rest of the Irregulars, “Er, how about we try a different one?”

The Irregulars first test the central blue opening to make certain their way out was not sealed off, and finding it as they left it, try a second blue aperture on the circumference of the interior metallic sphere.  The room turns and they find themselves with a similar hatch.  Dox inspects it again before pressing it open; revealing a small room with a body slumped over a chair and books and papers neatly organized.

Audric steps inside and checks the body, “He’s… fresh.  As if he just died, though he is very much dead.”  He looks back at the Irregulars, but no one offers an explanation.  Ruel and Dox step inside and look over the papers.  Searching the bookcase, Ruel finds a small rolled up piece of parchment.  He carefully unrolls and inspects it, “This is a scroll of _Resist Energy_.  I think I can make use of it, should the need arise.”

Dox flips through a ledger and the sorted papers.  “This must have been a clerk.  These look like expense reports, inventory, nothing interesting.”

Loki shifts his weight as he rebalances in the sphere, “Let’s see if we can find a room with a little more head room.”  

The Irregulars return to the sphere and select a third blue hole for their keystone and the room turns again.  Once more bracing for trouble, the hatch is opened.  Inside they see a small clear pool and several racks of very clean, neatly pressed clothing.  The party steps inside and stretches out in the larger, cozier room, while Dox inspects the clothing, mostly uniforms and coats with the Cannith symbol on them.  He is thumbing through their pockets when Elisa jumps to her feet, drawing her greatsword.

“Something brushed against my back!”  She jabs the air behind her with her weapon.

“Now that you mention it, I thought I felt something tugging on my sleeve,” Loki furrows his brow, glancing to Ruel.  “Some sort of magic?”

Ruel considers, “Quite possible.  Perhaps this room has an _Unseen Servant_ that cleans anything placed inside.”

Elisa grits her teeth, “It gives me the creeps!  Come on Dox, stop picking pockets and let’s get out of here!”

They return to the central sphere without incident and with somewhat cleaner clothing.  The keystone is placed in the last blue opening and the chamber turns.  When the hatch is opened, a narrow hallway is revealed.  Dox takes the lead and the party files down to the end of the passage, which branches off in two directions.  Suddenly a large, shaggy white-furred animal leaps into the junction, barring the way forward and growling low in its throat.  It is twice Dox’s size and wickedly serrated bones jut from its shoulders.

Dox swallows hard and lifts up his hands, “Nice doggie!”

The massive dire wolf stops growling, canting its head curiously at him, then it nods and rumbles out a single word, “Yes!”


----------



## Pflume

Ruel you killing me with these chiffhangers and I know what happens.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #27: Whitehearth and A Black Wolf*

Dox considers himself a people person.  He has been thrust in countless situations involving the need for delicate negotiation, exacting impersonation or just outright lying.  Being a changling is to wear a thousand faces and it is a tool that he enjoys making use of a great deal.  Even with a legitimate job aboard the _Liralen_, there is always a call for a delicate word with the upscale passengers or somewhat exaggerated placations, in addition to his skills with a lock pick when someone ‘loses a key’.  His ‘never the same bartender twice’ mantra has been well received by both passengers and the crew alike.

Still, negotiating with a dire wolf is a new experience for him.

“Um, hello?” he ventures.

“Hi!” it replies simply.

“My name is Dox, what’s your name?”

“Rorsa.”

The wolf stares at him intently.  The great wolf yawns wide, displaying a maw filled with teeth as long as any of Dox’s fingers and as sharp as any of his arrows.  Quickly he turns back to the rest of the Irregulars, whispering loudly, “A little help here guys!”

Audric clears his throat, “Why are you here?”

“I protect my pack.”  Rorsa rumbles low in her throat and two smaller wolves peek out from around the corner, “We can’t leave.”

“How do you survive?” Audric asks.  The dire wolf cants her head, uncomprehending.  “What do you eat?”

Rorsa bobs her head, “Bodies.”

Dox shifts uncomfortably at the head of the line of Irregulars while Audric frowns, “How many bodies have you eaten?” 

“Same bodies, return every day.  Eat again.” Rorsa explains, haltingly.

“_Why did he have to bring up food?_” Dox thinks, his gaze nervously darting between the larger wolf and the two smaller pups.  Unconsciously his fingers fiddle with the tools in his pocket, idly tracing across the mithral etching of the Cannith symbol on the keystone.  “_The keystone!_”  Hastily, he digs it free and holds it forward, “Rorsa, we are looking for things like this.  Do you know where any are?”

Dox recoils as Rorsa twitches her shoulder, but his eyes are drawn to a green enameled rod freed from within the white coat of her fur, chained to a metal collar.  He grins, “Can we have that?”

“Promise to help?  Bad wolf has lots of pack trapped.  You rescue and I give.  Give this also.”  Rorsa ducks her head and clasps a large pearl between her teeth, lifting it up for the Irregulars to see, and then dropping it to speak, “Deal?”

Dox nods quickly, “Deal.”

“Take.” Rorsa lifts a paw to hold the keystone forth.  Dox carefully leans down and searches for the clasp.  He fumbles with it a moment before tearing his eyes from her wickedly sharp claws and focusing on the snap, finding it he quickly takes the keycharm, gripping it tightly as he stands back.  “Okay, we’ll be back soon.  When we’ve rescued your pack, okay?”

Rorsa nods, “Okay.”  The Irregulars back into the central sphere and close the hatch.  Dox let’s out a rush of breath and sinks to the floor, “Wow, did you see the size of that wolf?”

Loki folds his arms, “I’ve seen bigger.”

Alexandre inspects the central metal sphere, “Two green slots.  Well, do we help the wolfie or not?”

Audric nods, “I’d say so.  We will probably have to confront that other wolf it spoke of anyways.  Besides, we did agree to help.”

Ruel smiles, “And I want a closer look at that pearl she had.  But let’s see where each of those two green slots leads us first.”

The first slot they try leads to another metallic sphere with yet more keystone slots.  The Irregulars elect to leave that for later and try the other slot.  It opens into a tight corridor that bends to an unseen end ahead of them.

Loki draws his greataxe and steps to the fore of the group as they exit the spherical chamber.  As they reach the curve of the corridor he is assailed by a large black shape.  Its claws scrape across his breastplate but fail to find purchase and the half-giant shrugs off the attack while barking out a warning.

Elisa spurts forward in a flash, rolling and weaving past both Loki and the wolf to tumble behind the creature as she draws her blade free.  Casting a trained eye across its form, she notes that it is easily as large as Rorsa but instead of bone protrusions, stony slabs jut out across its back.  She thrusts her blade between the protective slabs and pulls back sharply, drawing a deep wound.  Though the creature jerks, there is no blood, merely a trickle of brackish black fluid that oozes from the wound.  Elisa grimaces, “I don’t think it’s natural.”

Loki raises his greataxe, “Natural or not, it’s…hey, woah!”  The half-giant is interrupted by Audric who, attempting to tumble past the half-giant, crashes into the back of his leg instead.  Audric sprawls back and his eyes widen as Loki topples over him, the monk gasping as the wind is knocked out of him.

The wolf turns upon Elisa.  It rises up and snaps its jaws at her, catching her in the shoulder as its claws latch onto her sides, digging into her skin.  It bears down and Elisa’s face wrenches in pain as the claws and teeth tear deeper.  With a desperate twist she pulls free, but her shoulder and sides bleed freely.  Swiftly she reorients into a fighting stance and slams her blade across its broad face.  Again she opens up a wicked wound, but it does not seem to faze the creature, not so much as yelping as its face is disfigured from the powerful blow.  Carefully Elisa steps back into the small room at the end of the passage, which promptly comes to life as caged wolves yelp and bark at her, scratching at their cages.

Behind the black wolf, Loki heaves himself to his feet and slides back and off of Audric.  As the monk struggles for breath, Ruel presses forward and into a side closet beside the monk, brimmed with collars, leashes, muzzles and other such gear.  He incants briefly and leans down to press his palm to Audric’s shoulder, enveloping him in _Mage Armor_.  

Alexandre seizes the moment and with a hearty whooping war cry darts past Loki and leaps over Audric, jabbing his thinblade at the flank of the wolf.  Unfortunately, the weapon deflects off one of its stone slab and the swashbuckler curses colorfully.  Behind them all, Dox has bow and arrow at the ready, but is both unwilling and unable to come any closer to the wolf to get a proper shot.

The wolf ignores Alexandre.  Again it leaps at Elisa and this time its jaws sink into her neck and as it bears down on her again, she collapses.  The wolf shakes her like a rag doll in its jaws swiftly, then drops her and turns to face the rest of the Irregulars.  The yapping of the caged wolves ceases and for a moment, the room and hallway is silent.

The Irregulars break the silence.  Audric retakes his feet and wheels to the side of the wolf, battering it with a kick to its belly.  Alexandre maneuvers to its opposite side and jabs at it again with his thinblade, poking a shallow hole in its shoulder.  Ruel frees a scroll from his pack and casts _Protection from Evil_ on Loki, and the half-giant moves forward, his greataxe whirling.  The black wolf turns on Audric and snaps at him, but cannot break through the protective _Mage Armor_ enveloping him.  Audric hammers its face with a pair of quick punches, but hisses in pain as he finds the creature’s skull as hard and sturdy as stone.

Alexandre risks a glance down at Elisa’s crumpled form.  There is not as much blood as he expected.  _“She’s a tough one, tough as I’ve ever seen.  Might still be alive, but that means we got to finish this quick.”_  He spies the gaping wound Elisa opened in its back and his face twists in a lopsided grin.  He jabs his thinblade violently into the wound, and it pierces deep, skewering right through the creature and out through its chest.  It spasms and then collapses, its rear legs bucking and twisting reflexively.  Alexandre yanks his weapon free and Loki brings his axe down.  With a satisfying crunch, the creature stops moving.

Audric rushes to Elisa’s side, gripping her wrist as he studies her wounds.  He shakes his head, murmuring quietly, “Impossible.”

Alexandre leans down next to him, “What is it?  Is she alive?”

Audric nods slowly, “Yes, at least… her life’s blood is not spent, I can still feel it, weak but steady.  But… look at her wounds.  They aren’t bleeding!  The wolf got her by the neck…”

Dox moves into the room, “Maybe it’s whatever is preserving the bodies or restoring them, like the way Rorsa said they return after being consumed.  Maybe its keeping her from dying!”

Audric nods slowly, “Yes, I think that must be it.”  He sighs, “But remember what Krynson said, healing magic will not work here.  Our potions cannot restore her.”

Beside Loki, one of the wolves whines and claws at its cage.  Scanning their pens, he shakes his head.  “How are we going to deal with all these wolves?”

Ruel smiles, “I’ll bring Rorsa, they are her pups, I am certain she will help us deal with them.”

The wizard returns with the dire wolf, and her presence and gentle rumblings are enough to calm the wolves enough to be freed.  The pack is lead to the central sphere of the Cannith stronghold and, one by one, Loki helps each one up and into the cave above.  Rorsa is the last and the most difficult, but, with some help from the rest of the Irregulars, she is at last pushed through as well.  The whole affair takes a few hours and Loki is tired and covered in scratches from the wolves’ claws.  Audric and Alexandre carefully bring Elisa into the central sphere, laying her down and wrapping her in one of their blankets from the Handy Haversack.

Loki takes a long drink from his waterskin and smiles, “So these wolves have been living off of bodies… I guess I’ll need to have the healers check me for disease.”

“They eat from dishes, not bodies.  Magic makes dishes refill every day,” Rorsa interjects, peering down at them from the circular hatch above.  “Get dishes?  Pack hungry.”

Loki sighs, but Dox quickly agrees and fetches several of the dishes, running them up to the wolves.  As he returns, he finds the Irregulars sitting around the circular chamber.  Ruel is running Rorsa’s pearl around his palm.  He looks up as the changling sits nearby and sighs, “Well, shall we press on without Elisa or call in the other team and let them take all the credit?”


----------



## tmaaas

Ah, yes. 

I ruled that once disabled, a creature did not continue to lose hit points. Indeed, they can "survive" that way indefinitely.

Besides helping the PCs, you never know when an "almost-corpse in need of a little healing magic" will be useful to the DM at some point in the future...


----------



## toetapper1

*Hello all!*

Hey out there! This is Audric the Monk.  I finally got to catch up on all the posts and have to say AWESOME job to PhoenixAsh on the write ups!  On a personal note, I'm fairly new when it comes to gaming so playing a low level male Monk offers some interesting challenges for me - lots of fun.  Audric generally followed the defying stance school of thought in his back story and given that he was originally an undercover guard, he often would TRY to sit back and watch what took place and not always chose to join in the combat. (However, the DM's picked up on that quickly and seemed ever clever in drawing him in) And now that his original mystery reason for being with the group is solved, he doesn't need to be so elusive, timid, etc.
Audric does have some unsolved mysteries of his past to be figued out.  I can't say too much as the rest of the party does not know these particulars, but needless to say, sometime down the road Audric hopes to find out about his heritage, abilities, etc. Occasionally when in the cities, he ventures away from the group to search for some answers, but his apprehension to be open in asking questions keeps this a slow process (all he remembers of his father is him telling him to keep certain things/knowledge hidden) Does this sound confusing? A little paranoid? Cryptic? Distracted? Well perhaps you got a little insight into all the thoughts that run through Audric's head, and why he seems to have little time to actually talk with the rest of the group.


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## Micah

Woohoo!
Good to see you on the boards toetapper1  

One of our players mentioned that having the storyhour is not only like having a great book to read, but a book where you can influence what happens. It's a neat feeling. It also keeps tmaaas and I scrambling to keep up the "monster" quality.

Heh heh, and you guys thought last session was bad . . . .


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## hbarsquared

Hello! ... Hello ... Hello ... Hello ...

More updates!  (please?)


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## MavrickWeirdo

jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> Hello! ... Hello ... Hello ... Hello ...
> 
> More updates!  (please?)




I second the motion.


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## Micah

The game is still going. Though we are taking a hiatus while we move.
I do know PhoenixAsh was experimenting with some different writting formats to try and bring the game up to date with current conditions.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Wow, its been nearly 4 months since I've updated hasn't it?

I've taken a long hiatus from writing, but I think the time is coming where that hiatus will come to an end.  But just in case, Micah and I have struck an agreement.

She and I will be working together on a few installments.  In fact Micah will be doing most of it in the shortterm, finishing out our current adventure in Whitehearth while I will be looking forward.  So hopefully between the two of us, we should have regular updates in the near future!

Thanks to those that have stuck things out this far, I hope to reward your patience soon!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #28: Fire and Frost*

Music, laughter and the sweet scent of flowers reaches Ruel Dunnanne d’Phiarlan, seated amidst Sharn’s privileged in the tower-top restaurant, Galdin’s Garden.  The air is cooler here, lacking some of the cloistering heat and cloying dampness of the city’s lower regions.  His eyes briefly lift upwards as he muses, _“No doubt a pleasant side effect of being in such proximity to the nexus between Eberron and Syrania.  How quickly this whole city would fall and be crushed were that link with the Azure Sky ever broken.  Over two hundred thousand people…”_

“What did you decide?” A slightly hesitant voice breaks his reverie.  His eyes fall upon the golden haired woman seated across the table from him.  The wizard smiles and lifts his glass of Orla-un wine, one of his favored Aundarian vintages.  As he sips from it, he savors the rich flavor almost as much as he enjoys savoring the slow telling of his story to his companion.  Never a good judge of character, Ruel can still tell he has baited her interest.

“As I recall, we were not of the same mind on how best to proceed…”

***

As he returns, he finds the Irregulars sitting around the circular chamber. Ruel is running Rorsa’s pearl around his palm. He looks up as the changling sits nearby and sighs, “Well, shall we press on without Elisa or call in the other team and let them take all the credit?”

Ruel slips the pearl into his Handy Haversack as the other party members consider the question. Audric is first to speak, “I would be in favor of returning to the ship and getting Elisa some healing.” 

Alexandre, lovingly cleaning wolf blood from the handle of his elven blade, clears his throat, “If they come down and find the goods we lose out on Elaydren’s finders fee.”

Dox looks to Audric,. “Well I’d better go talk to Rorsa, if you’re going to summon the pinnace. I talked her into being a guard doggie.” The party looks at the changling who shrugs his shoulders, “She likes getting rubbed behind her ears. . . . Besides we don’t have to give the other team this.” Dox tosses the green key chain to Alexandre who grins.

Audric weighs the situation as Dox rises. He realizes that he is in the minority about leaving the underground complex. Ruel hasn’t spoken, but he hardly needs to. The idea of letting Kashandi get more gold and more glory would not sit well with the wizard. 

Audric turns to ask Loki’s view on the matter when Ruel does speak, “We might be able to find a sheltered place here where healing magic might work.” The monk nods. Even if Loki were to agree with him a majority of the Irregulars would prefer to remain. He looks to the comatose barbarian and checks her vitals one more time then nods definitively, Elisa is stable. 

“Then let’s see what we can find,” Audric answers, rising to his feet. As the party collects its gear, he murmurs underneath the echoing din, “I just hope we will not regret this later.”

***

“Brown, Orange, Red, Yellow, Purple, Blue, and Green. We have blue and green keys, we need to keep a look out for more.” Dox analyzes the circular chambers that the party has found. After some discussion the Irregulars decide to start the search methodically from the beginning of the complex. That leads them back to the charred hallway with the twisted, melted metal door at the end. Heat and light flicker down the corridor and into the sphere that just seconds ago stopped revolving under the now familiar application of a keystone.

Ruel retrieves the _Protection from Energy_ scroll the party recovered, “I would hate to waste this if it is not needed. It is quite valuable.”

“I’ll do some reconnaissance,” Dox nods to the wizard.

“Are you going to change yourself?” Alexander off-handedly inquires.

“Uhm, I think that ‘fire elemental’ is beyond the scope of my disguise kit.” Dox laughs good-naturedly.

Alexandre cocks an eyebrow, fingering a tindertwig from his belt pouch, “We could help with that,” his expression is serious before breaking into a lop-sided grin. Dox shakes his head and slips down the charred walkway silently, avoiding the charred bits of bone that ominously scatter the long hall. Steeling himself against the heat, he sees a side door at the end of the hall and guardedly ducks through it.

The room contains a long narrow pool of clear water and beyond it another small room looks to be a latrine of sorts. Dox pauses in the doorway. It is refreshingly cool and there are no scorch marks at all on the stonework. 

Dox twists around the corner for a quick glance at the larger room at the end of the hall. What immediately registers is a nearly blackened and blasted chamber with a roiling mass of white-hot flame floating in the air, fuming at the wall in the corner. He ducks quickly back into the bath area hoping that whatever it is doesn’t notice him. He casts about for buckets on a whim, but a quick scan of the pool area reveals none. After a breath or two, he ends his scouting foray and slips back down the corridor to report his findings.

 Ruel greets him immediately with, “Any key charms?”

“I didn’t see any, but I didn’t exactly do a thorough search. There’s a big fiery blob floating about in there.”

“Nothing else?” Loki rumbles.

“We’re dealing with a creature that doesn’t use the bathroom.” Dox quips, explaining that the room with the pool and latrine is untouched.

The party debates on how to best the fiery blob. Alexandre has several ideas: one of which includes drinking the rest of the contents of his wineskin to use it to squirt water on the fire. When he realizes the idea isn’t gaining much ground he tries another tack, “What about fighting fire with fire? You’re a wizard Ruel. Can’t they do stuff like that?”

Ruel shakes his head, “I do not practice that sort of magic. We could use the scroll on someone, preferably someone who could do a great deal of damage quickly. With Elisa down that leaves. . .”

“Me!” Loki grins and hefts his axe. Ruel nods and digs out a flask out of his pack before casting the protection charm upon the half-giant, “It is alchemist’s frost. You just throw it hard and it will break on impact. Should put out some flames at the very least.” 

Loki takes the flask and nods, pounding down the blackened hall. Fire-hardened bone crunches loudly under his heavy footsteps. Loki turns at the door and throws the flask. The faint sound of fire and frost meeting in a faint sizzle can be heard, but so to can the sound of the flask impacting against stone, not the blob. As firelight illuminates his profile, the Irregulars can see Loki’s face contort into a grimace as he grips his axe and shifts to a fighting stance.


----------



## LordVyreth

Wow!  Glad to see you guys again!  I'll have to catch up with some of the last updates to make sure I understand everything again, but it'll be worth it.  So how goes the game itself?  What level is the party?  Is everybody still playing it?


----------



## PhoenixAsh

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow!  Glad to see you guys again!  I'll have to catch up with some of the last updates to make sure I understand everything again, but it'll be worth it.  So how goes the game itself?  What level is the party?  Is everybody still playing it?




The game goes well!  In the storyhour the party is currently 3rd level, but we've hit 4th level and are nearing 5th if our DMs' hints are to be believed.  We've had to take a small hiatus from playing due to holiday stuff and our DMs moving, but things are getting back on track.  We're all eager to get to playing again.

That said I have plenty of material left to catch up on for the storyhour.  Micah has been helping me catch up.   

We've lost a player and gained a player, so our number still stands strong at 6.


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

YaY Irregulars


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #29: Loki and the Living Spell*

The living spell surges towards Loki, intent only on consuming the intruder.  The room is awash with a sun-like glare as the blob bears down on the half-giant.  Loki stands firm, confident in both his magical protection and the strength of his axe.  He swings the heavy great-axe through the blob, spraying bits of it against the wall where the droplets sizzle and sputter out, but it envelopes him unabated.  He feels a slight, almost pleasant warming sensation, but no pain.  Still, he frowns as he finds his movements sluggish and difficult in the heart of the mass, like wading through jelly.

The hallway behind him erupts with indecision. The rest of the Irregulars want to help, but each is unsure of what to do. Dox runs down to the pool area while emptying Aundarian wine out of his skin with a grimace of regret, looking to fill the empty vessel with the clear water. Alexandre shrugs at Ruel, who then turns to Audric. The monk’s posture flows into a defensive stance at the back of the passageway. "If it gets through all of you, I will stand between it and Elisa." Ruel smiles confidently, “The spell will hold, Loki should have no trouble besting it.”  He takes a couple hesitant steps into the hallway, showing less eagerness to put his confidence into practice.

Dox stares at the placid water of the pool. It's clean and crystal clear.  Perhaps it is the atmosphere of the dead place, but he doesn't trust it. A grunt from Loki in the next room spurs the changeling to action and he plunges the empty skin into the water. To his relief, the pool does not object.

Loki struggles clear of the mass only to have it bear down upon him again, his vision filled with the haze of the fiery creature.  He slaps the mass away through brute force and swings the axe again, this time using the flat of the blade.  Its edges glow a dull red with the heat of the meeting of metal and magical jelly-like flesh, a heat that he is thankful he has yet to feel burning his flesh.  Dox slides into the room, waterskin at the ready, as Loki tears the largest mass of the living spell away with his axe, where it sprays across the wall and fizzles, the remainder collapsing in on itself.  The _Liralen’s _ bartender sighs - "I run for flour - I'm too late; I run for water. . . . not that I'm complaining too loudly here," he grins at Loki.

The Irregulars sift through the ash in the room, finding tiny melted pieces of metal, hints of burned bodies, but not the colorful glint of a keycharm.  Ruel spends some measure of time trying to capture some of the ooze’s remains with assistance from Loki, but succeeds in only drawing a laugh from the massive psychic-warrior as the clump of goop burns through his bag and turns to crisped gel amidst the rest of the debris on the floor.

Alexander sneezes at the ash in the room, “What a waste of time, anything of worth is long gone!”

Dox leaves the rest of the group and slips back to the pool room.  It is not the pool this time that has his attention but the small stone cubicles beyond it.  He is pretty sure he knows what they are and a few seconds of searching confirm that area was once a latrine. Cannith ingenuity has kept the area pristine and without the smells usually associated with such a place: except for the body in the last stall.  A body that looks like it was walking seconds ago.  Dox deftly pockets the contents of the belt pouch, the Cannith signet ring, and grins, loosing the clasp of a necklace on which a brown keycharm is hung from the dead man’s neck, concealed under his shirt, “A new keycharm, looks like this was worth the trouble after all!”

“It was expensively bought, between the scroll and wasted flask of Frost,” Ruel points out, sparing a wry glare at Loki, returned with a sheepish grin from the big man.  Audric nods, admonishing the changling.  “A more thorough search may well have given us the keycharm without wasting several hundred gold pieces of valuable resources.”

“Oh lighten up!  Hey, maybe this water here is magical healing water!  Don’t you think so Ruel?” Dox interjects brightly.

“Well, it is possible it could contain any number of enchantments…” Ruel muses.  Dox grins big and strides past him and Audric to pour the contents of his waterskin into Elisa’s mouth.  After a moment his shoulders sag, “No good.”

Alexandre walks over to Dox after a quick glance down the side passage, slapping the changling on the back.  “I’ll be sure and tell Elisa you gave her toilet water when she wakes up.”  Alexandre’s grin goes unseen as Dox stares wide-eyed at his retreating back.

The Irregulars check on their fallen comrade once more before further exploring the underground vaults of the Cannith research facility.

The first brown door brings them to a small dining hall.  Bodies lie hunched over a table strewn with plates and flatware.  The table and bodies are blanketed in a heavy layer of dust.  Food has spoiled long ago, to the point that even the smell has faded in the stale air.  All liquids have evaporated, though many cups show stains of wine residue.  Under the dust the bodies are eerily warm to the touch and limp, as if they had merely fallen asleep moments ago.  Audric tries to shake one awake, but it becomes apparent that this isn't an enchanted sleep, rather the occupants of the hall, like the rest of the facility, are long dead.

Pockets are picked and the room looted for anything of value.  In the end the party has nine more blue keycharms and two more brown to add to their growing collection.

The kitchen beyond the hall is also covered in dust.  The work area is small but functional, with a large ebony cabinet dominating one end of the room.  Dox examines the cabinet, noting the intricate mithral designs worked into the polished surface.  He checks for traps, looking for triggers in the light of a flickering ever-burning candle ensconced nearby.  Finding none he pulls open a drawer and the room fills with the scent of mint.  Other drawers open with other scents, while a large drawer at the top of the cabinet pours off heat and a similar structure at the bottom of the unit gives off cold air.  It's quite the marvel of modern magic, and more than one Irregular wonders if the meals onboard the Liralen could benefit from it.  Plans are made to return and try to remove the cabinet if time permits.

For now the need of a downed crew member pushes them onward.  A metal door locked with a brown charm is opened to reveal a long storage area.  There is no dust in this room and food stores on the shelves appear to be preserved and edible.  Cloaks and gear are hung neatly toward the back of the closet along with a neatly marked box containing several vials.  Ruel bends to examine them and finds them clearly labeled, and he tallies them swiftly, “Two potions of _Cure Moderate Wounds _ and three _Lesser Restorations_.”

“The items in here seem unusually well-preserved… is it possible those potions would retain their function, even while we are in the Mournland?” Audric queries.

“I do not see how… to my knowledge as long as one stands within the confines of the Mournlands curative magicks do not work.” Ruel looks about the room appraisingly.  “In theory, there might be wards that could protect against its effects, and this facility is suffused with such magick.  It might work.” He muses.

“Try it.  Elisa is no good to us if she’s slung over my shoulder the rest of our trip down here.” Loki remarks.

Ruel nods slowly.  First, he dips a finger in one of the healing potions brought down from the Liralen and presses the restorative to Elisa’s lips, turning her battered face back and forth carefully for any reaction.  There is none.  With some misgivings he tries a drop of one of the vials from the storage chamber. A cut by the barbarians lip starts to close and the bruising around her temple recedes. 

Ruel looks at the other members of the party.  At Audric's nod he gives Elisa the entire vial.

***


“Did it work?” the woman asks.

“Yes it did.  We gave her both potions and she made a near full recovery.”  Ruel smiles, pausing as their first course is served.

“That is amazing!  I’m not an expert, but I’d heard that no healing could work in the Mournland.  Well, not exactly, I know the spell _Goodberry _ is supposed to work and that there is even a market for _Goodberry _ wine growing among some adventurers, maybe this was an…” The woman pauses, and then smiles bashfully.  “But that’s… not important.  What happened next?”

Ruel smiles, “Not at all, had we known about that it would have been very useful.  We could certainly use someone like you aboard the _Liralen_.”

“Do you think so?” The woman smiles brightly and Ruel cannot help grinning at her honest enthusiasm.

“Yes indeed.  Now where was I?  Oh yes, we spent some time searching around, but I will spare you the details.  As you might imagine, we ran into trouble soon enough again.  It was another creature like the fiery blob, though of a more… colorful variety.”


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #30: Irritating Illusions*

"Aha, an orange one!" Dox produces an orange keystone from the pocket of his newly acquired cloak, made of darkweave, a material that makes the already elusive changling even harder to spot in the shadowy halls of the Cannith facility.

"This is what it's all supposed to be about," Alexandre muses, running his fingertips through the platinum pieces the Irregulars discovered using the brown keycharm in the room adjacent to Rorsa's former shelter.  "Any of those weapons there magic Ruel?"

"Not at all," Ruel replies, his eyes losing the arcane luster of _Detect Magic_.  "Neither is the silver ring, nor any of the armor.  The keystones have a mild conjuration effect, those two vials house oils of _Magic Weapon_ and that one there is an elixir of Silversheen.  Oh, and the closet has a combination of simple magical enchantments.  I would suppose it keeps the clothes clean."

Elisa is gathering up the myriad arms and armor displayed in the room.  Examining a chain shirt briefly she shrugs off her old armor and dons it instead.   "It fits better," Elisa offers by way of explanation, “And you never know when you might need more weapons.”  Loki nods, stepping forward and picking up one of the swords, "We can always sell them.  They look of fine make.”

The party files out of the room after collecting everything of value to try their new keycharm, and Ruel departs last, re-pocketing the pearl from Rorsa’s chain with a grin.  It radiated a magical aura as well.

***

With the orange keycharm in hand, the Irregulars are able to make their way into a new circular chamber, with a whole new set of five separate colored depressions.  Dox tests out one of the orange depressions along the circumference of the central sphere and the chamber turns, opening to reveal a corridor brightly lit in a flickering multi-hued menagerie of color.  The corridor bends and despite its walls, floor and ceiling being covered with reflective mirrors, the Irregulars cannot spot the source of the prismatic display.

Dox inches forward, stepping with extreme care, trying not only to be mindful of keeping his footsteps silent and out of sight, but also to keep his reflection from revealing his presence to anything around the bend of the hall.  Before moving into the mirrored portion of the hallway he checks the reflections for abnormalities, tossing a silver coin on the floor and checking each mirrors reflection for anything unusual.  With nothing unwelcome befalling him, he steps into the mirrored area.  Slithering out along the wall he can see the source of the light: a glowing mass of rainbow light hovering in front of a fully mirrored room with a curtain blocking sight of the far end.  He shifts back quickly to keep out of sight.  It occurs to him that he is being unusually silent, even for him.  Carefully he taps the mirror and it makes no sound.  He kicks it, still no sound.  Backing out of the room, he returns to the circular chamber where the Irregulars are still huddled.

“It’s a ball of light.  And that whole corridor and the room beyond it are mirrored up, except for the far wall that had a curtain over it.  And the room is silent, I couldn’t hear anything when I moved or tapped the wall.” Dox reports.

“Ball of light?  Huh, sounds a bit like that blob of fire I dealt with.” Loki comments.

“Perhaps,” Ruel nods.  “I would suspect that some sort of prismatic magical effect is contained in that ball you describe Dox.  This could be very dangerous, prismatic effects can be potent, even a simple _Color Spray _ is a favored spell of mine for disabling a quantity of opponents at close range.  Also, I suspect these mirrors may be able to amplify any such effect.”

“Perhaps we could lure it out then?” Audric asks.

“I believe I may have just such a solution,” Ruel agrees.

Ruel recites from a scroll outside the _Silence _ effect and ahead in the chamber a sizeable beetle bursts into being.  It quickly rounds the corner, seeking to engage the blob of light beyond it.  There is a surge of color and the Irregulars squint.  “Definitely _Color Spray_,” Ruel reports, loading his crossbow.  The Irregulars train their weapons on the turn of the corridor, but after several seconds the ball of light does not show signs of approaching.

Audric lowers his heavy crossbow with a sigh, “It is either some sort of guardian or simply unwilling to leave the room.”

Alexandre smirks, “Probably likes staring at its reflection too much.”

Loki hefts his greataxe and strides into the hall, “Time to change that.”

The massive half-giant swings his axe heavily into the first wall-mirror in the corridor.  Surprisingly, it does not shatter, merely denting under the impact.  The sound is absent from the powerful blow, though Loki can clearly feel the ringing in his arms from the impact.  He moves back to the circular chamber, grousing, “Aren’t there other ‘orange’ chambers we can try?”

A chorus of agreement is voiced and Dox immediately places the orange keystone in the central depression and twists it.  The whole chamber lurches sharply to the opposide side and the everbright lantern suddenly winks out above them, a large pit opening under the feet of the Irregulars!

Dox clutches the keystone pedestal, Loki braces himself against the floor and ceiling of the chamber, Ruel slips but grabs onto Loki’s boot, Audric balances himself perfectly on the suddenly inclined sphere, as does Alexandre, while Elisa stumbles forward but braces herself at the last moment over the edge of the pit using her greatsword to keep from tipping in.

The crew takes a collective breath before Dox pipes up, “Everyone okay?”

A bright flare causes the Irregulars to blink as Ruel lights a sunrod.  “It would appear so,” the wizard replies, shifting to the edge of the pit and peering down, he sees it is filled with liquid thirty feet down.  He hands the sunrod up to Dox then strikes up a torch and tosses it at the surface of the liquid.  Unsurprisingly, it is extinguished.

The Irregulars elect Dox once again to move forward and explore the pit.  With a rope tied around his waist held steadily by Loki and Elisa, Dox gradually descends towards the surface of the water, checking for any signs of another exit.

Several minutes of examination and the sore arms of the two Irregulars result in the discovery that the pit is no more than a well.  The Irregulars turn the circular chamber back to the only road forward for them: the corridor with the prismatic ball of light.

Ruel considers, “Look here, if we surround it, if four of us rush in and surround it on different sides… it can only spray one of us.  The spell is not harmful in the long-term after all, I think the rest could destroy it.”

Audric frowns, “But what of the mirrors?  What if they amplify the effect as you said?”

Ruel shrugs, “Close your eyes?”

With no better alternative in mind, the Irregulars make ready to charge the creature, Ruel first casting _Mage Armor_ on Audric.  Raising his thinblade, Alexandre shouts a silent battle cry and surges forward, stabbing at the center of the mass of prismatic light with perfect accuracy.  Unfortunately, it has all the effect on the mass of sticking a pin into jelly.  Audric marks this as he moves in behind the deckhand and his curiosity gets the better of him as he continues through the room just beyond the curtain.

The sight is oddly blurred, as if peering through foggy glass; all details are hazy.  He blinks away the image of what looks disturbingly like a multi-headed metal beast and returns his attention to the mirrored room and its guardian.  “_One thing at a time_,” he reminds himself.

Dox and Ruel move to the edge of the corridor, loosing an arrow and a bolt at the blob, which seem to do it no harm when they strike it.  Elisa is next, running past Alexandre and to one side of the ball, striking it two-handed with her greatsword.  The blow is powerful, but clearly not as telling as it should.  Still flecks of it are shredded from the central mass and Elisa is heartened that her weapon can harm it.  Loki is last but in the cramped room his axe stroke is wide, failing to even connect with the blob of light.

The blob ripples with color and expels a sudden wash of it upon Elisa, bathing her in dazzling light.  The Irregulars immediately re-double their attacks, Alexandre’s weapons continue to be ineffective, while Audric comes back through to call out the contents of the room behind the curtain, only to be foiled from his warning by the magical Silence, its effect extending even to the curtained entryway.  More arrows and bolts fly and continue to be ineffective.

“_That really wasn’t too bad_,” Elisa thinks, blinking away a few dark spots in her vision. Her vision swam for half a second, but she can see just fine now.  She hefts her greatsword in a massive overhand swing, angling the attack just enough so her blade doesn’t scrape the mirrored ceiling in the cramped cell.  The blob distorts as her attack connects, bending like a gelatinous bladder in the center until it pops, prismatic gore spraying across the Irregulars and the mirrors.  “_Not too bad at all_,” she smirks, flicking gobs of goo off of her face.

The Irregulars attempt to communicate with hand signals and gestures in the _Silenced _ room.  Ruel plucks one of the colorful pieces of the destroyed blob his person and puts it into a new sack, satisfied that this time he will be able to study the creature later.  Noticing Audric gesture to the curtained room ahead, he moves through it to investigate.

He steps into a large, domed room and ahead of him he can see a massive machine, with all the appearance of a large mechanical hydra.  Thankfully, it appears inert.  The room is fire-blasted and some of what appears to be the source of that damage remains in the room.  Two roaring fires are moving with a mind of their own, Ruel swiftly recognizes them as fire elementals.

And one of them is moving towards him.

Ruel throws his arms up as the elemental bears down on him, immediately regretting using his _Mage Armor_ spell on Audric.  The elemental is taking an oddly zig-zagging pattern, as if navigating invisible walls while approaching him.  But certain enough it moves towards him and Ruel calls out in alarm.

It passes right through him.

Blinking, Ruel turns and watches the elemental proceed on its winding path.  There was no heat and no contact.  “An illusion,” the wizard murmurs with relief, “And perhaps… a divination?”  The wall distorts, rippling behind him and Ruel whirls.  Dox comes charging in the room at his alarmed call, drawing his blade and charging after the elemental.  A few feet past Ruel he runs headlong into a solid barrier, apparently in mid-air and falls flat, dazed.

Ruel approaches Dox and helps him to his feet.  “The room, it is an illusion.  But I believe it is also an image of one of the rooms in this facility, or a very similar one.”

Dox rubs his head as he gathers himself back up, whirling around with a perplexed expression on his face, “But… what… how did I…?”

“It would appear this chamber is actually much smaller than what we see, we should be cautious.” Ruel answers.

Elisa and Audric move in quickly behind Dox, but a hasty explanation from the pair already inside arrest any more sudden contact with invisible walls.  Elisa, Audric and Ruel begin carefully feeling out the circumference of the chamber, while Dox stares hard at his surroundings.  He shakes his head, murmuring, “I just don’t get it.  Why would somebody make something like this?”

Elisa laughs, “You’re a changling!  You look like other people all the time!  You’re just jealous that a room got the better of you for once!”

Dox eyes the guardswoman darkly for a moment before moving to give the room a more thorough search.

The changling’s careful examination reveals the room is circular, no more than a quarter as large as the rectangular chamber the four Irregulars are viewing.  Aside from the inert multi-headed mechanical monstrosity at the head of the room, the larger room holds two back chambers, one of which is destroyed and burned by fire while the other is sealed behind a crystalline wall, housing a small library and desk.  Two levers are prominent, of unknown purpose, at either side of the large chamber and underneath the mechanical hydra a crystalline box is seated.  Dox can just make out what can only be the schema Elaydren described, as well as several other arcane-appearing items within.

“That’s got to be what we’re looking for!  I’ll bet we’re close!” He exclaims.  “Wish we kept that scroll you used on Loki though, those fires could be tricky.”

Ruel nods, “Agreed, but we still need to find the red keycharm before we can proceed any further.”

Dox studies the room one more time.  One of the mechanical hydra’s mouths is ajar, curiously pained red.  Squinting at it, he sees it is not paint, but actually a red keystone placed on the invisible wall.  He steps forward, but hesitates to grab it.  Ruel did say it was just an illusion, but that maw looks all too real and it has really sharp looking teeth.  Canting his head, he sees Elisa watching him with a smirk on her face.  He reaches down and quickly grabs it, turning to hold it up with a triumphant grin, “Found it!”

“Nicely done!” Ruel exclaims.  “Come, let us move on.

Dox twirls the keycharm around one finger, then reaches down to pocket it.  His hand connects with something solid instead however, a lever, which he accidentally pushes down.  The room distorts and all the Irregulars tense, reaching for their weapons.  The illusion, however, merely fades away, revealing smooth stone and several other levers with colored keystone depressions behind Dox.  Colors the Irregulars do not yet have.

“Yeah, good job, looks like you unmasked the room,” Elisa chuckles, moving up beside Dox.  “There are more colors, maybe we aren’t as close as we thought,” she reasons.

“Perhaps, or perhaps these other colors represent other facilities.  This could be valuable information to Lady d’Vown,” Ruel considers.

Elisa raises an eyebrow, “Bonus pay?”

“Precisely,” Ruel smiles.

With a new spring in their step, the Irregulars depart the chamber to rejoin the rest and to try the red keycharm in the circular chamber.  After bracing themselves for any other sudden surprises, they twist the keystone into one of the slots and the chamber rotates to reveal a new passageway.  It is immediately apparent that this one is warm, and as they step out towards a large metal door, it begins to become uncomfortably so.

Alexandre draws his thinblade and dagger, “Twenty to one your fire beasties are behind these doors.”

“No bet,” Audric nods, loading his heavy crossbow.  The Irregulars all ready their weapons and Loki kicks the door open.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #31: Escape From Whitehearth*

Dox has a plan.  The two levers in the room must provide a means to bypass its fiery defenders.  Almost as soon as Loki’s boot makes contact with the door, he springs into action, rushing through it and into the sweltering heat of the inner chamber.  He maneuvers easily around one of the fire elementals, reacting fast enough that it barely seems to register his presence.

The other one moves in front of him, cutting off his access to the levers.  Nearly blinded by its heat and light, Dox swings at it but fails to connect with the mass of the flames.  The elemental slams fiery tendrils into the changling, who gasps as his skin sizzles and ignites, collapsing under the onslaught.  His skin and hair smokes and his clothing is charred, and is only by good fortune that the downed Irregular is not on fire.

The elemental Dox bypassed comes roaring at the rest of the Irregulars, sealing off the doorway with its bulk.  Elisa and Loki lash at it with axe and sword, causing gaping injuries to the creature which vents curious burning injuries with a wailing like steam escaping a kettle, but the elemental being does not go down, and slams into Elisa, charring her skin but failing to bring her down the gritty guardswoman or set her alight.

Sensing the urgency of Dox’s situation, Ruel tries a different tact.  Freeing his waterskin and throwing it into the mass of flames where it bursts in a slight spray of water with a great sizzle of steam, the wizard throws insults at it, “Your mother was a water elemental and your father a fish!”

Unfortunately, the elemental seems utterly uncomprehending of the barbs.

Alexandre and Audric resolve to get through any way they can to save their crewmate.  Alexandre tries to roll under the creature, but is unable to maneuver in the tight space of the doorway, and it is all he can do to roll out of the way of a fiery counterattack and stab ineffectually at the mass from the ground.

Audric however used the opening to leap through the opposite end of the doorway, tumble back to his feet and sprint to the aid of Dox.  The elemental does not seem intent on finishing off the changling however, and it moves to aid its companion at the doorway.  The elemental blazes into the fray, laying into Elisa and searing her with terrible burns, setting her chain armor sizzling against her skin.  Already injured, the guardswoman collapses.  Its partner lashes at Loki, but the half-giant ducks behind the doorway and the creature fails to connect with him.

From the floor, Alexandre lashes up with his thinblade, nicking the injured elemental.  Loki steps in to plug the gap Elisa left and plows his great-axe into the elemental, rending its form so badly it bursts apart in a shower of sparks and smoke.  Loki swallows as he eyes the remaining uninjured elemental, bringing his axe up defensively.  A green flicker out of the corner of his eye draws his attention, Ruel has hurled an _Acid Splash_ at the elemental, but it seemed to barely notice.

Audric looks between Loki and the rest of the Irregulars, Dox and the two levers on the floor.  He grimaces, knowing that any wrong decision or wasted actions here could spell the death of one or more of his companions.  Hoping Dox’s reasoning was sound, he moves to one of the levers and pulls.

There is a great metallic grinding sound and for a moment, Audric’s hopes sag as nothing visible happens.  Then the domed ceiling of the chamber lifts slightly, exposing no more than a few feet of space around its circumference to the open air of the Mournlands.  The elemental immediately bolts for it, eagerly pursuing the open air and freedom from its long captivity within the Cannith facility.

With Elisa and Dox down, the Irregulars are only too happy to let it go.

The peculiar nature of the Mournlands makes stabilizing the pair unnecessary and, after making certain they are indeed still alive, the two are returned to the sealed room with the functional healing potions.  The remaining _Cure Moderate Wounds _ potion is used on Dox and he stirs back to conciousnesss, retaking his feet.

Dox winces at the charred appearance of his skin and with a moment’s concentration; it retakes the smooth appearance of the healthy half-elf he is imitating for this expedition.

“It was a good idea Dox, but next time you might want to let us know about it.  Or not run ahead like that,” Audric chides the changling.

“Right,” Dox smiles ruefully.  “Did you get that crystal box open?”

Loki clears his throat from the doorway, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

The Irregulars return to the elemental chamber and Dox immediately starts working on the lock on the crystalline box.  The Irregulars are finding the room already to be a lot more comfortable with the small space in the ceiling letting out the hot air.

“Got it!” Dox grins, unlocking the box and opening it up he pulls out a circular disk, the creation schema.  “Oof, that’s heavy,” Dox grimaces and hands the object up to Loki, who studies it curiously.

 “Potions and a scroll too,” Dox pulls out four labeled vials and a piece of parchment.  Ruel studies them for a moment, “Two _Cure Moderate Wounds _ and Two _Resist Energy_.  The scroll holds a _Resist Energy _ spell as well.”

Alexandre snorts, “That would have been useful before we fought the damn things.”

“Hey look, there’s a second schema!” Dox holds up another schema.  Loki takes it in his other hand, comparing the two together.  “They look the same… except this one seems to be missing some parts,” the half-giant observes.

“A copy perhaps,” Audric says, looking at the schema from around Loki’s shoulder.  “We cam bring them both to Elaydren, I am sure she can make sense of them.”

“Right,” Dox agrees, rising to his feet.  “Now let’s see what we can do about that crystalline door there.”

***

“Oh come on!” Dox screams, pounding his fists against the solid crystal wall.  “This lock is ridiculous!  Who would make a lock this complicated to protect some stupid books!”

“Someone who does not want those books read by casual interlopers, keep trying Dox.” Ruel urges gently.

Loki is impatient.  Dox has spent several minutes on the lock with no success and the room, while no longer stifling, is still far from pleasant.  He looks again at the disks in his hands, “Think its adamantine Alexandre?”

Alexandre taps it experimentally, “I’d say so, why d’ya ask?”

Loki nods, “Dox, duck.”

“Duck?  What do you mean duck, I’m trying to… Oh Gods!” Dox hits the dirt as he sees Loki spinning around with the schema like an athlete with an adamantine discus.  With a clipped grunt Loki lets it fly and it slams into the crystalline door with a heavy crunch.

“Are you crazy!?  You could break the schema!  Or somebody’s skull!” Dox cries, obviously shaken.  Loki calmly strides up to the door and picks up the schema from the floor, not even a dent.  He looks to the door.  It is not destroyed, but a good deal of the crystal is crumpled at the point of impact.  He prods it with a finger and wedges a chunk free, “Its adamantine, nothing is stronger than adamantine.”  He grins and begins to hammer at the damaged section with the schema.  It’s not more than a couple minutes before he has broken a hole large enough to reach in and unlock the door.

Dox and Ruel peruse the shelves, but most of the parchment and books crumple when handled or touch.  Two books on the desk do not, however.  One is a large tome filled with complex symbols, equations and script.  The other has the appearance of a journal, but is completely blank inside.  They are gathered up for later study and the Irregulars attempt administering one of the newly found _Cure Moderate Wounds _ potions on Elisa.  Thankfully, it too seems to have somehow retained its effectiveness despite the pervasive suppression of healing effects in the Mournlands.

“This is getting really old,” Elisa grouses, plucking a charred scrap of cloth from half-healed skin along her arm with a wince as she regains her feet.

“Do not pick at it!  It will only make it worse, we will get you to the _Liralen _ soon enough,” Audric scolds her.

“I believe we have spent all the time that is required in this facility,” Ruel agrees, scooping up the remaining potions.  “And we have everything Lady D’Vown asked for and more.”

“Right, back to the open skies!” Alexandre grins, leading the way back to the surface.  “Give me a bank of fog on the open seas over these gray mists any day of the week,” he mutters.  “Almost reminds me of…”

“Of what?”  Audric asks, overhearing the deckhand.

“Never mind, never mind.  Old sea tales, not worth mentioning.” Alexandre replies quietly.  Audric notes the deckhand is strangely serious, but does not press the point.

As he climbs up the ladder back to the cavern the Irregulars began their search from, Alexandre comes face to face with Rorsa, the massive dire wolf they rescured, staring eye to eye with him.

“Pack hungry,” she says simply.

“Er… right,” Alexandre answers, swallowing hard.

“Get dishes?  Dishes make food every day,” Rorsa continues.

“Right,” Alexandre sighs.  “Alright lads and lassie, back it up, the doggies need their dishes!”

Returning a few minutes later with several stacks of food and water dishes in hand, the Irregulars spread them out in the cave for the pack to eat once they magically refill.  Dox moves over to Rorsa, scratching her neck and drawing a happy rumble from the great wolf’s throat.  “Are you sure you want to stay here Rorsa?  It’s not a great place to be anymore, we could take you away, anywhere else really…”

The wolf seems to consider this, “How?”

“Well we have an airship… er, a boat that flies?” Dox tries, getting a blank look from the wolf.  He shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter, you can just trust me, I could let you go free anywhere you want, or you could even stay with us if you wanted.”

Rorsa seems to mull that over with a low rumble in her throat, “Rorsa like Dox, but Rorsa’s place with pack, pack’s place is here.  Rorsa stay with pack, Dox go with his pack.”

Dox sighs, his burgeoning dream of a dire wolf fighting companion quashed, “Alright, well, good luck okay?”

Rorsa suddenly bristles and growls, “Horses.”

Dox blinks, “Horses?”  His eyes widen and he runs to the rest of the Irregulars, “Hey guys, Rorsa hears horses, look alive!”

Rorsa shepherds the rest of her pack deeper into the caverns while the Irregulars hide against the cave walls, hoping against hope that the horses don’t notice the facility’s entrance.  As the horses stop just outside and footsteps approach the mouth of the tunnel, those hopes are dashed and they draw their weapons.

Emerald Claw soldiers swiftly surge into the tunnel entrance, immediately drawing their own flails upon spotting the Irregulars.  With them are emaciated troops, skeletons with heavy armor draped across their frames.  At the mouth of a tunnel a man in heavy plate steps forward and barks out at the Irregulars, “Surrender!”

Tired and injured, the Irregulars none-the-less are unwilling to give up their goal so close to its safe return to the _Liralen _ and as one they move to repulse their attackers!

Ruel is first to react and with a hasty invocation, a pool of thick _Grease _ spreads along the floor, dropping three of the soldiers, including the heavily armored man who called for their surrender, who curses colorfully, if impotently, from the floor, “That trick saved you once, it won’t save you again!”

Alexandre and Elisa charge in to engage two of the soliders already inside the cavern.  Alexandre has his strike parried off of one of the soldiers’ shield, but Elisa breaks her opponent’s guard, causing a terrible injury but failing to drop the man, who snarls at her, “You miserable lot are no match for the Emerald Claw!”  He swings his flail at Elisa who catches it on her blade and deflects the strike with practiced ease and a grim smile.

The soliders in the _Grease _ struggle to back out of it, looking for any kind of purchase in the cave floor.  Dox and Audric send a volley of missles into one of the soldiers, Dox’s arrow glancing off his chainmail but Audric’s heavier bolt punching through it, drawing a gasp from the man.

The soldiers maneuver to press their numbers advantage, one trying to flank Alexandre, who whirls and parries a flail strike off of his dagger, the other going after Elisa who gets struck across her back.  She grimaces and coughs, struggling with her injuries for the third time on this trip, but she grips her greatsword tighter, refusing to let them overcome her this time.

A massive furry shape leaps from the back caverns into the melee, the soldier with Audric’s bolt in his belly has only a moment to look on in horror as Rorsa bears down on him and clamps him in her jaws, tearing him open in a horrific display that makes even the surrounding Emerald Claw blanch.

It is then that a familiar voice echoes in the cavern, “It’s futile to defy us!  Give me the third schema and I’ll let you live, defy us and I’ll kill you and raise your corpses to serve us!”  It is Garou.  The Irregulars feel a terrible will oppose them, filling the cavern oppressively and sapping their strength.  Loki arrests his charge as the Irregulars reconsider their odds.

Ruel recovers first.  As soon as the trouble had started he had pushed the emergency button on the ‘callbox’ that Levic, the ship’s artificer had given him.  Reinforcements are no doubt on the way, and if he can buy some time…

“Here, take it, but leave quickly or we will take more of your soldiers with us than you can afford to lose!” Ruel calls back, grabbing the copy of the schema from his haversack and holding it up for all to see clearly.

Before the wizard, Garou appears, his red eyes staring malevolently at him.  But he grins and holds out a pale hand, “Agreed, give it to me!”  Swallowing hard, Ruel quickly gives him the schema and steps back.

Garou laughs, taking on a misty form and floating back to the entrance of the cavern, “Finish them off!”

The battle is quickly rejoined.  Outside, they can hear a large portion of the Emerald Claw force mounting their horses and moving off.  There is a still significant force of soldiers left to kill them, but the Irregulars take hope that the odds are no longer so hopelessly stacked against them.

Dox carefully sights an arrow, letting it fly into the leg of one of the soldiers attacking Elisa.  “See how your master abandons you!  You should back off, while you still can.  Walk away!”

“Silence cur!  We’re more than a match for you!  Come on men, show them we are worthy of the Lady’s blessing!” The heavily plated man calls, struggling to retake his feet in the middle of Ruel’s _Grease _ effect.  He gets to his knees before tipping over again with a heavy crash.

One of the skeletons behind him attempts to navigate the _Grease _ as well, but suffers a similar fate as its master, crashing to the floor with a clatter of bone and steel.  Another moves forward, slipping through the grease effect, waving its bony arms wildly to keep its balance.  Somehow it manages and clumsily lashes at Rorsa, but finds itself hard pressed just to keep upright and the attack is no more than a wild flail through empty air.

Ruel grimaces as his Grease spell evaporates suddenly, as swiftly as it came.  The spell has been an effective barrier for the Irregulars, keeping all of them from being surrounded, but he only prepared one casting today.  Reaching into his haversack, he draws forth the magical pearl and clasps it tightly.  _“If this is to work, I should simply reconsider the formulae I memorized this morning and then… ahh!” _ Ruel’s eyes alight as the pearl thrums in his hand and the Grease field reappears under the soldiers before him.

Alexandre presses his thinblade through the guard of the soldier he is fencing with, piercing through the guard’s chainmail and right out through his back.  The soldier grunts, but Alexandre’s strike miraculously manages to miss anything vital and the deckhand’s eyes widen in disbelief as he dodges out of the way of the soldier’s whirling flail.  Nearby Elisa delivers a much less artful and far more deadly gash across the chest of one of her soldiers, dropping him instantly.

Outside the cave, a small vessel descends through the dead gray mists of the Mournlands, a pinnance.  Aloysius, the Liralen’s first mate, is at the helm and guides the craft down to a gentle landing.  His eyes widen at the sight of the battle at the entrance to the Cannith facility.  A woman still lingering outside begins incanting and a bolt of force shoots from her fingertips, hitting the pilot like a sack of bricks.  He grunts and fumbles for his weapon as she points to him again, “Kill that one, do not leave them any escape!”  The two remaining soldiers still outside charge Aloysius, but their whirling flails chip only the pinnance’s hull as Aloysius desperately deflects their attacks.

“The panic button!  I hit the panic button, where are the reinforcements?!” Ruel shouts in frustration.

The grounded soldier laughs at Ruel’s discomfiture, “You’re friends have abandoned you and soon, so to will your life…” THUD!  He falls back into the grease helpless as a baby, “Damnation!  Your death will be torturous, wizard, do you hear me!  You will know PAIN!”

Audric drops his crossbow and lays into the skeleton threatening Rorsa with his fists, a well-aimed chop splintering bones along its rib cage.  A moment later Rorsa rears back and crunches her maw around the skeleton’s hipbone, crunching it in one snap of her powerful jaws.

Loki finally strikes home against a soldier as well, one potent blow from his giant whirling axe felling his opponent instantly.

Ruel smirks, “Your threats would hold more weight if you could support your own.”  He incants and gestures at the trio assaulting Aloysius outside and immediately the spell-caster and one of the soldiers drop unconscious.  Audric whirls into another skeleton, staggering it with a palm strike to its midsection then breaking its skull from the rest of its frame with a high kick.

The downed man’s eyes widen as he sees Rorsa tensing to leap at him.  Hastily he invokes a blessing from his dark Goddess, warding himself against attack but it is too little too late.  Rorsa leaps upon him and her dagger-like teeth clamp down around his head and with a single violent thrust, separate it from his body.  She spits it into the grease, where his surprised expression remains fixed on his face.  “Pack eat well today,” Rorsa growls, red blood staining her white fur.

Elisa leaps forward to aid Aloysius, but slips and falls on the _Grease _ effect.  “Ruel, get rid of this thing!” she cries, struggling to rise.  Outside both Aloysius and the last standing soldier have traded blows and drawn blood.  The spell dissipates as Ruel incants a simple clipped phrase, and the soldier suddenly hesitates, _Dazed_.  Alexandre and Elisa are soon upon him, and he is quickly felled between their twin attacks.

The Irregulars survey the field; all their foes are dead or unconscious.  Swiftly the spell-caster and the soldier are disarmed, bound and gagged.  The Irregulars explain the situation to Aloysius and a plan is hatched.

Four pinnance trips later, all the Irregulars, the captured soldiers, their gear, and all the treasure of the facility, including the magical dresser and kitchen appliance, are onboard the _Liralen_.  Her great elemental ring flares to life, heading for the nation of Breland and the City of Towers, Sharn.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #32: Four Women, One Wizard*

“A real adventure,” the young woman muses.  “To think, in only a few months you saved a Prince of Aundair and recovered a Cyrian noblewoman’s tiara, why I expect it is only a matter of time before King Boranel himself will be thanking you and showering you with accolades, at the rate you are going.” Her piercing blue eyes fix on Ruel as she seems to weigh this possibility.

“Such is the lot of successful adventurers,” Ruel acknowledges with an easy smile.

“What was the name of the Cyrian noblewoman?” she queries.

“You will forgive me, my lady, if I do not provide you with… all the particulars of that expedition.  A good deal of it I am bound to keep confidential.” Ruel answers glibly, reaching for one of the flower shaped candies on the table, the specialty dessert of Galdin’s Garden.  Ruel savors it, even as he affects a good-natured wince, “I fear I may well have over-eaten, shall we take a walk through the ‘Ups’*?  We have some time left before the show.  With all that has happened, I have yet to really have the time to do simple sight-seeing.”

The woman smiles, “Of course, I would love to.”  She reaches for a white-chocolate flower, eating it as the wizard across from her calls for the check, paying out a lavish sum for their extravagant meal.  She swallows back a lump in her throat even as she swallows the sweet; it is far more than she would be comfortable spending herself.

After settling the check, Ruel charters the pair a private sky-coach to the Upper Meniths and some of Sharn’s best nightlife.

After they board and Ruel directs the driver to their direction, the woman looks to Ruel again and smiles, “No doubt after all that you did her, whoever she was, she threw herself at you, handsome and charming man that you are.”

Ruel is distracted a moment by the view out the sky-coach window, Sharn opens like a great maw beneath him.  “Mmm… yes and no.”

***

Ruel sits in the bowels of the ship, within its small library.  Normally, the room would be crowded with passengers, but only a day has passed since their mission into Whitehearth and they have not yet recovered their passenger complement.  This leaves the wizard with both ample room and privacy to study.

A glowing spell-shard sits at one hand, arcane symbols tracing and retracing themselves within its crystalline interior, Ruel’s eyes flicker toward it constantly and he deftly traces and retraces the symbols with his fingertips, making minor adjustments to a curve or line occasionally, he frowns slightly, “So close… so close.”

The massive Cannith tome sits central on the desk before him, and he flips between pages, marking notes in shorthand on parchment beside it, trying to pick apart the complex code the Cannith engineers have inscribed the books secrets with.  The diagrams alone are fascinating, but not nearly consequential enough for complete understanding.  He sighs as he looks at his meager progress so far, it could take weeks to come to any real understanding and his time is limited.  Lady Elaydren d’Vown Cannith was so pleased at the recovery of the schema that she did not ask about any of the other treasures the Irregulars recovered, an oversight that Ruel is certain she will correct soon enough.

At his left sits the Cannith Journal.  A Cannith symbol is seated on its cover, but its interior is completely blank.  Ruel has studied it under _Detect Magic_ and it does have an interesting aura, though he has been unable to determine its nature exactly.

“Assuming the journal is not blank; its contents must be protected.  Obviously there must be a trigger to make its contents appear,” Ruel muses to himself and sighs.  “Equally obvious, Lady D’Vown will have the trigger, or at least know what it is.  Probably something tied to their dragonmark symbol, perhaps their signet ring.”  Ruel grimaces, “I dearly wish I took one from the facility.”

A faint scuffling sound draws Ruel’s attention and he whirls in his chair.  It is Errol, the cabin boy with a tray in his hands, who looks sheepishly up at the wizard.  But Ruel smiles and gestures him forward, “Errol!  Errol, my lad, just who I was hoping to see.  Is that bound for the guest quarters?” Ruel points to the tray and Errol nods.  “Good, would you mind delivering a note for me as well?”  Ruel quickly scribbles an invitation to Elaydren and lays it on Errol’s tray.

“Um… sure, sure I can do that,” Errol replies.

“Thank you Errol, I appreciate it,” Ruel smiles warmly.  “When you are done there, would you mind asking Fortunato if he would make me some tea as well?”

“Um… okay.”

Ruel smiles and winks at the shifter boy, “I knew from the moment I met you that you would make the finest cabin boy to sail the open skies.”

Errol brightens, and quickly scampers out of the library.

It does not take Elaydren long to call on the wizard upon receiving the note.  Ruel observes that there are still dark circles under her eyes, but her bright blue gaze seems filled with a new energy and excitement. "You found a Cannith Journal!  May I?"  She reaches for the slim blank volume at Ruel’s side.

His attention having wandered back to the swirling patterns in his spell-shard, Ruel nods, "Please."  He pushes the smaller black book over, "As near as I can tell, the writing is invisible unless the correct object is in close proximity."

He forces his gaze from his spell-shard and leans forward with hands clasped on the table, "A Cannith symbol, I presume."

Elaydren doesn't hesitate but taps the mithral thread of the Cannith symbol in the cover with her signet ring.  As she opens the book, Ruel can see lines of spidery writing filling the pages.  She reads a little on the first page, mumbling “It seems to be the journal of one Dorlan Emeril d'Cannith.”  Minutes go by and Elaydren pages through the book, while Ruel’s attention diverts back to his spell-shard, both studying in silence.

Elaydren breaks the silence first, "He went to Xen Drik!" 

"Xen'drik?  Odd that his journal would end up here in the Mournlands." Ruel remarks mildly, his eyes not straying from his flickering shard.

She flips to the last entries in the volume.  Her face drains of color as she reads intently.  Ruel glances up as several moments pass without any pages turning, and he watches Elaydren stare at the last page as she obviously struggles to bring herself under control.  Finally, she looks up at Ruel while closing the volume.  "What else did you find?" she gestures to the larger tome and smiles.  It's a forced smile and there is a hint of glassiness around the bottom edge of her eyes.

“There are references to a Xulo pattern, the meaning of which is unknown to me.  "It is difficult to translate, and no doubt it would take significant time and effort to fully study.  Now in the back here there are designs for what he refers to as an 'Eld-“ Ruel pauses, mid-explanation, his eyes drawn back to his spell-shard, where he quickly fidgets with the design of one of his symbols.  “Oh yes, that is very good…” he murmurs.

Elaydren blinks, “Ruel?”

"Erhm, excuse me.  As I was saying it’s a design of an... an Eldritch Machine... which we found... ourselves... down in the bowels of the, erhm... the site." Ruel explains haltingly, his fingers and eyes darting amidst the complex pattern on the surface of his spellshard.  Ruel forces his attention back on Elaydren, but as he removes his fingers from the spell-shard it sizzles and a tendril of energy arcs between the shard and Ruel’s fingertips, then streaks through the air to a candle sitting on the desk.  The candle’s flame explodes in a dazzling display of _Pyrotechnics_.**

Ruel grins as the room goes pitch black after the cacophony of bright lights, “Wonderful!”

Elaydren screams; they are both blinded.

“Please stop screaming!  It is all right, your sight will return in a moment, do not panic!  Please, just hold still until your vision clears, so you do not run into anything!” Ruel tries to calm her, though his attempts are somewhat foiled by brief fits of laughter.

Ruel clears his throat as their vision returns. An uncomfortable moment imposes itself until the wizard grasps a stray thought and pounces on it, “Tea!  Perhaps I should get you a cup of tea?”

"Tea… tea might be a good idea."  Elaydren's voice is very, very strained.

Ruel swiftly exits and almost runs over Errol bearing a tea service back to the library.  When he returns, Elaydren is slumped over the table, her back shaking with quiet sobs.

Ruel sets the tray down on the table between them, “I am very sorry, I did not intend…” Ruel trails off as Elaydren rises off the table and nods, wiping at her eyes.  Ruel turns his attention to pouring tea for two, setting the cup before her, “How did you know him?”  

“Know him?” she squeaks, clearing her throat and reaching for the tea.

"Dorlan Emeril d'Cannith.  You said it is his journal, it seems like you know him,” he replies.

"Ah, I see how you could have come to that conclusion," Elaydren says softly, quickly regaining her composure.  "No, I don't know Dorlan personally, but I will need to take both of these books back to someone in the House so that they can help us with the Creation pattern.  My role in the House is more… political… than it is technical.  I am sure that some of my contacts in Sharn will be able to decipher these.”  Elaydren reaches a slender arm over to the larger book, deftly flips it closed then stacks the smaller journal on top of it.

She smiles at Ruel, "I really am quite overwhelmed at all that your team brought back from Whitehearth.  I gambled on this, much more than perhaps I should have.  But it seems now that I made the right decision.  I'm sorry for such an emotional outburst; I guess the excitement of the last couple of days is just catching up with me."

"And I must apologize for my Pyrotechnics,” Ruel replies.  “No doubt your contacts will have better luck than I, but the volumes are really quite fascinating, I could not help but examine them.  I hope you do not mind my indulging my curiosity,” Ruel smiles, " I hope that, should the need arise, you will not forget us in the future."

Ruel reaches over for his tea and takes a casual sip, "Perhaps you should try and rest?  You will forgive me if I say it seems as if you have had precious little lately."

Elaydren nods at the suggestion, "Thanks, I should rest.  You know, I was hoping to see the Whitehearth facility myself, but between the threat of the Emerald Claw and the Liralen’s schedule, there just wasn't time.  Perhaps someday I'll be able to come back.”

She rises from the table and picks up the books, giving Ruel a wry smile, "And I've yet to meet a wizard that wasn't curious about books.  Thank you for showing me these, I am sure they will help us a great deal in our efforts."

Elaydren stifles a yawn and heads back to her stateroom with both volumes under her arm.  Ruel watches her go for barely a momeny.  His attention is inevitably drawn back to his spell-shard and with a grin, he picks it up along with his notes and leaves the library.  He passes Dox in the hallway, “Oh, Ruel!  Glad I ran into you.  I wanted to know if you needed any of these,” he holds out two handfuls of Cannith signet rings.  “You know, maybe they’d help with the books?”

***

“How unfortunate!” the woman laughs lightly.  “But surely that was not enough to dampen her enthusiasm, surely such a fine tale ends with the hero getting his girl.”  Her eyes twinkle with gentle mischief.

Ruel wrests his eyes from the dizzying depths of the city of towers, looking back to the woman.  “Not this tale, another perhaps,” Ruel replies with a wry smile, which causes the woman to break her gaze with him.  “Besides, that was not the only… incident.”

***

After picking up her compliment of passengers, life aboard the Liralen quickly begins to return to normal.  All of her crew are busy not only attending to the needs of the ship, but to the passengers as well.  Rooms need to be cleaned, sheets need to be changed, food needs to be served, and guests need to be entertained.

In the midst of singing and dancing for the assembled passengers in the dining hall over dinner, Ruel considers one of the newer passengers, Ermineth d’Phiarlan.  The elderly sculptor has made herself a quick friend and even a confident to many of the ship’s passengers and crew over her few days onboard.  Most consider her a harmless, matronly elf, but Ruel believes he knows better.  There are elves in House Phiarlan not involved in the dangerous trade of ‘information gathering’ but he suspects that at best Ermineth is not here merely for a pleasure cruise, and at worst she is spying on him.  He intends to find out why.

The matronly elf lingers after dinner, sitting beside a morose Jasper Pauncefort.  Ruel imagines the balding man is simultaneously unwilling to approach the object of his affection and likewise unable to keep himself from observing her in her performances.  Ruel shakes his head, murmuring, “Poor fool… no girl is worth that much headache.”

For her part, Ermineth can tell the ship’s entertainer is ready to approach her.  She always keeps red clay at hand, finding its constant smooth and pliable presence between her fingers relaxing.  She no longer makes idle motions with it, however, beginning to shape it, forming flat petals between her fingertips.

"Jasper, I think it's time you go have a talk with your lady bard."

Jasper’s eyes become large as saucers and he opens his mouth, managing no more than a startled squeak.

"Go Jasper. Don't think - just go." Ermineth’s tone is friendly but tolerates no wavering and she hands her dining partner the red lump of clay, now an exquisitely formed rose. Jasper leaves the dining area with an almost palpable sense of misgiving surrounding him.

“Perfect timing,” Ermineth mumbles to herself as Ruel approaches and she smiles up at him.

"May I join you?  I do not think we have been properly introduced, though I know your work by reputation.  Ruel Dunnanne d'Phiarlan..." he bows formally, then casually leans against Jasper’s vacated chair, speaking quietly, "Trying to help Jasper?  I fear he will need a great deal of aid."

Ermineth laughs, a surprisingly boisterous chuckle, "Between you and me, I'd be very surprised if he gets up enough courage to talk to her.  It's one thing to tell Jasper not to think - it'll be quite another to get him to act on impulse.  Besides, I'm not sure how amenable the Liralen's bard would be to discussion right about now.  Things could go very well for Jasper or very poorly.

But at the moment I seem to be bereft of company, and as that is something I truly do value, I would be very pleased to have you join me, Ruel."  Ermineth’s eyes sparkle with mischief or humor.

Ruel laughs but inwardly he cringes as he sits beside her, “What are you doing Ruel?  By the Host and the Six what does she know?”

"I would wager on very poorly.  All that would make me hesitate would be that fine rose you just made," Ruel replies out loud.  "Still, I can understand where he is coming from.  Kashandi is quite an attractive woman, if you can get past her personality of course.  I fear her performances have not quite been up to her accustomed level lately, regrettable, as I enjoy a challenge."

Ruel makes himself comfortable maintaining his easy smile, "May I ask what has brought you aboard this fine vessel?  I trust you have been enjoying your trip thus far?"

"My! You're very direct aren't you,” Ruel opens his mouth to object, but she interrupts him with an upraised finger, “Not to worry, my boy - I like that.  My interests on board are rather mundane; that of getting from here to there.  I finished work in Fairhold, some statuettes commissioned by the royal family, the berth was open and I must admit I rather enjoy luxury, so I snatched the opportunity to ‘travel in style’ as they say.  I'm enjoying every minute of it. Might I turn the same questions to you? What has brought you aboard the Liralen, Ruel Dunnanne d'Phiarlan?”  Ermineth studies Ruel closely as he answers.

Ruel's response is measured, but immediate, "Opportunity."

He leans back and looks forward, "Opportunity to see the world and expand my art.  Who knows, perhaps someday I will be able to weave tales of my own adventures, instead of those of the ancient past?"  Ruel gestures grandly with one hand as he speaks, a particular gleam in his emerald eyes.

"And of course there is the opportunity to meet people, movers and shakers, politicians, nobles, business men and women, artisans."  Ruel turns his gesture to Ermineth, who acknowledges the gesture with a slight dip of her head.  "I would be fascinated to see some of your work, by the by.  May I take it Sharn is your home?  Where might I go to see your craft?"

While Ermineth considers the question, Ruel muses once more, "I think most of all, an opportunity to live my life, to see and feel and experience, to do that without doing so vicariously through the lives of others in tales or songs.  That is an opportunity worth risking for."

Ermineth sighs. "Adventures.  Now those were the days - now I consider getting to the privy on time enough of an adventure for my taste.  But there is nothing quite like living an adventurous life, unless it is surviving to tell the tales to your grand children, or great-grandchildren as the case may be.  I have eighty-one of them now.  Some of them are great, some of them are great-great - and so on and so forth.  Keeping my family calendar up to date keeps my mind sharp and my art keeps my hands busy.  I have little left to ask of life than that.”

“I would love to show you my gallery and Sharn is indeed my home.  I will reach home a few days after you.  I have some business in Wroat and when I get back I will… look you up.  Have you made plans yet for your layover?  Captain D'meryl mentioned that the stay-over will be a touch more lengthy than the norm.  If you plan to visit the city, you will want to take a good guide.  It is easy for visitors to lose their way.”

“I have not yet made plans, I suppose I will need to speak with some of my companions.  Do you have any recommendations?” Ruel replies.

“An artist of your caliber?  The Upper Meniths, without question.  I could recommend several stages there,” she replies decisively.

Ruel nods, “I would appreciate it.  Tell me, can your work be found only in Sharn, or across the length and breadth of Khorvaire as well?”

“Across the five nations – and even further in a few cases.  I was quite the traveler when I was younger, and some of my pieces have been sent to areas where I cannot go now.  A great deal of my best perished with Cyre, my home before Sharn.  I even had a piece or two in the great palace of Metrol.  Rumors seem to indicate that you may have recently experience the Mournlands yourself?  It is not a place for casual travel, would you say?”  Ermineth studies the young half-elf while pulling out yet another lump of clay from a large satchel beside her chair.  This clay is white and shapeless and she works it in abstract swirls across the ebony tabletop.

“You have lived in Cyre?  I have heard…” Ruel shakes his head, “Fortunato, our cook, had mentioned that he did not wish to see what had become of Cyre?  Tell me, what was it like?”

“Cyre was beautiful.  Especially before the war.  Green and rolling – you never knew what quaint village you might come across over a hill or settled in a valley.  Then the war came and the quaint villages burned, the land was overridden with clashing troops.  We thought that was the worst that could come.  We were quite naïve, weren't we,” She answers mildly.

Ruel nods and his expression grows serious, "I never got a chance to see it, that saddens me hearing your description of it.  But who could have predicted what happened, unless you listen to rumors…”

Ermineth's gaze meets Ruels evenly, "Remember prediction and causation are not the same, no matter what rumors abound.  I can't blame many who start the rumors about the Day of Mourning, those who do are looking at factors that they do not feel add up to coincidence. In my book that means they are at least thinking and that's far better than those who walk around not truly interested in the matter."  Ermineth’s tone is still good-natured, but she speaks seriously now, “I am still interested in what the Cyre looks like now, Ruel.”

"The rumors are not incorrect.  Fortunately we did not have to do much traveling within the Mournlands, merely above them, being onboard this ship.  Even still, one of the expedition groups ran into trouble with the gray mists which surround the land when descending on one of this ship's pinnances, and I believe they can be just as dangerous for travelers on foot or horse.  I heard tales of roaming packs of wolves, wolf skeletons, a crab made of carcasses, dead bodies from the war that look as fresh as if they had died moments ago... and magical creatures that defy description."  Ruel dissembles with casual ease, his eyes never straying and his expression unflinching.  _“A grain of truth with every lie,” _ Ruel muses, smiling inwardly as he briefly watches confusion work its way across Ermineth’s features.  “You mentioned finding a guide, can you recommend any?”

Ermineth takes a breath and her expression clears, "It's been a long time since I've needed a guide in Sharn, I doubt any that I knew are still in the business.  My guess is that you most likely won't be taken in by anyone who would leave you in mortal danger.  Stay away from any who identify themselves as being from the Boromar clan.  The halflings are mostly criminals, and will mislead strangers.  Tourists who go off with a Boromar guide are likely to pay dearly for their ignorance."

Ruel’s attention is distracted by a clatter of dishes.  Alexander works at cleaning off dessert plates and coffee mugs, balancing them all in as high a stack as he can.  The muffled conversations of lingering passengers drift around the ornate dining area.  And from behind the thick velvet drape across the stage comes a familiar voice, “Who helped you write the note!?”

Ruel flinches reflexively, then sets his face in a resigned smile on hearing that particular voice follow that particular line of questioning, murmuring to himself  "Knew it would happen eventually..."

“RUWELL!”

***

*’Ups’ – Upper Meniths

**The Irregulars reached 3rd level on the trip home.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #33: A Punch Bowl and a Dark Dream*

Ruel folds a leg over one knee casually as Kashandi storms into the dining hall.  All eyes turn to the two entertainers, which the bard seems oblivious too.  Ruel notes this and smiles, speaking loudly for the benefit of the crowd, “Yes dear?  Did I forget to take out the garbage again?”

He is rewarded by a few snickers and smirks, especially among the male passengers.

Kashandi fumes and then splutters, “Gar… Dear…  You!  You wrote that note!  Talk about garbage!”  She quotes several lines out of the poem Ruel wrote for her.  One of the ladies gasps, several of the men cough and Ruel can see Ermineth covering her mouth to cover her reaction, though he can also tell her eyes are filled with amusement.  Niall Goldsmith rises suddenly from his seat, “Utterly improper!”  He glares at the pair and leaves the dining hall swiftly.

_“That is going to be trouble,”_ Ruel thinks.  Alexandre nods seriously from his stacks of dishes, “Poetry, pure poetry.”

Kashandi whirls, shooting daggers with her eyes at the deckhand, who answers with a wry grin and a cheery salute with a pair of fingers.  Ruel clears his throat, “I have no formal training as a poet, but I did the best I could.  I was inspired by a play I saw, Bergio of Cyre, where a handsome man took advice from a deformed man with the soul of a poet.”  Ruel rakes his fingers through his dark hair, “Sadly, I forgot that I am the handsome man, not the poet.”  The passengers struggle not to laugh, which draws Kashandi’s baleful gaze right back to the wizard, “YOU!”

She gestures sharply and something unseen lifts a punch bowl from a nearby table.  Too late Ruel recognizes the command for an _Unseen Servant_.  The bowl hovers over Ruel’s head, turns and douses him in pink punch.  Jasper peeks from behind the velvet curtain and draws a hand over his mouth in dismay, retreating from the hall abruptly.  The room erupts in laughter and even applause.

Kashandi looks at Ruel.  The wizard has the look of a drowned rat, his long dark hair clinging to his cheeks.  There is a lemon slice lodged between his tapered ear and head.  Her face breaks into a smile, then a grin, and finally she dissolves in helpless laughter.

Ruel watches her with a placid expression.  From beside him, Ermineth gets up and gently helps Kashandi into her chair.  Unobtrusively she retrieves her satchel and turns to leave, grinning at the entertainers.  Kashandi takes several moments to compose herself, then with a hiccup extends a hand to Ruel, “Truce?”

Ruel cants his head a moment, considering.  He murmurs a clipped phrase and gestures down in a spiraling circle and a gray mist envelops him, spiraling serpent-like down from shoulders to the floor and spreading out along where the punch pools on the carpet.  The _Prestidigitation _ leaves the half-elf and the floor clean.  Flicking the lemon slice from his ear, he takes her hand and shakes it with a smile, “Truce.  Just so long as you understand this does not mean I will go any easier on you in our performances.”

“Oh do not worry, I intend to trounce your paltry stage abilities at the earliest opportunity,” she smirks and then taps her chin thoughtfully.  “I need to speak with Jasper, I don’t know what he was thinking.”

***

“She didn’t!  She dumped punch all over you!  How awful, why would she do that?” the woman gasps.

“Clearly she was jealous, poor girl.” Ruel sighs, “I fear our bard is a touch… unbalanced at times.  A lack of discipline.”

“That surprises me,” the woman comments after a moment.

“It does?” Ruel blinks.

“Your employer, Ravien, he seems like an intelligent man.  I would be surprised if he put up with fits of… unbalanced behavior and a lack of discipline aboard his ship, from any of his crew” she reasons.

Ruel clears his throat, “Actually, she did end up getting us both in trouble with Ravien.”

“Ahh.  And what did he do?” she asks as the sky-coach touches down in the Upper Meniths.

“Oh it was not so bad, he scolded us.  Though actually, he had us repeat the performance the next day.  It turns out the passengers thought it was a staged event, and those that had left early wanted to see what they missed!” Ruel laughs as he exits and helps the woman from the coach.

The woman laughs as well, “Thank you.  But then you should have told him how it happened.  I am sure he would have seen your side.”

Ruel smiles mischievously, keeping her hand as the walk into the vibrant and crowded tower streets, “I was tempted, but I had a different sort of comeuppance for Kashandi in mind.”

The woman looks askance at the wizard, “What did you do?”

“Let us just say that when it came time for our second performance, her laughter at my discomfiture at the hands of her punch bowl was… lacking from its former hysteria.  I corrected that with an application of my other new spell, which I now call _Kashandi’s Hideous Laughter_.”

“Ruel!  You’re terrible!” the woman rolls her eyes.  “Small wonder she did what she did!”

Ruel laughs, “It is hard to explain exactly, we are just… competing against one another.  In a way… it is like she is a sister, a crazy, imbalanced sister.”  Ruel’s _expression darkens suddenly and he mumbles, “Though at least she is not trying to kill me.”

“What was that?” Sasha asks, leaning closer.

 “Nothing,” Ruel smiles again as they pass deeper into the crowd.  Swarms of humanoids of every size, color and description revel around them, passing into chic restaurants and clubs to dine, dance and drink.  Music of many styles spills out from every window and street performers vie for attention with dazzling displays of acrobatics, pyrotechnics and magic.

It is some time before they are able to speak again without shouting, but as they pass into a quieter part of the district, the woman is first to speak, “What did you think of Sharn, when you first saw it flying in on your airship?”

“Actually, I did not have much time to mark the view.  There is another reason our layover here is so long…”

***

Ruel approaches Loki, the powerful half-giant is hauling tables to the deck, setting up a picnic lunch for the passengers.  The _Liralen _ has been traveling south and the milder weather, along with the Lyrandar’s protective wards have made an outdoor luncheon an appealing prospect for the passengers.

“Aloysius said I could help by repairing a broken table leg?” the wizard queries.  Loki nods and points to a table lying on its side by the cabins, one of its legs splintered badly.  “Cheap wood,” Loki comments.

Ruel nods with a smirk, “What did you think of what the two Emerald Claw prisoners had to say?”

Loki snorts, “Not any of our business, I’ll be happy to keep away from the Mournlands for a good long time.  Sounds like Elaydren will have her hands full with that Garrow, I’d rather not have a vampire looking for the same gear I am.

Ruel bends by the table and invokes briefly, his _Mending _ cantrip restoring the table leg instantly.  “I agree.  Did you see how that soldier tried to kill Mallora the second she started spilling the beans on Garrow?  I do not understand that level of fan-“

The conversation is broken off as the _Liralen _ itself shudders, its elemental ring flaring to full life and surging forward at maximum speed.  Ruel is pitched against the table, which collapses on him.  Loki staggers, but keeps his feet.  A few precarious seconds later, the airship’s ring flares down to embers, petering along at a gentle coast.  Loki moves over to help Ruel up, “You alright?”

“Yes, yes I am,” Ruel grimaces as he looks down at the table, the newly mended leg is now snapped in two places.  “We better see what is going on.”

Crew and passengers are scramble to find out what is going on, and the two Jorascos onboard are kept busy tending scrapes, bruises and bumps, while Dox finds himself with the unenviable task of placating Niall Goldsmith over a chip in one of his wands.  Ruel and Kashandi start up an impromptu performance to help calm the nerves of the growing crowd on deck.

Captain D’Meryl strides out grimly onto the flight deck, “Ladies and gentleman!”  All performing and talking stops as every eye turns to the captain, “We are experiencing a minor difficulty with the elemental ring.  For your safety, all passengers will be disembarking by pinnance in Wroat.”

“Wroat!?  I booked this ship for Sharn!  I’m a busy man!  Who will recompense my time and money!” Niall challenges, waving his damaged wand in the air.

“House Lyrandar will accommodate your transportation to Sharn and of course any damages will be paid for in full.” D’Meryl replies, struggling not to glare at the belligerent Goldsmith.

“Ladies and gentleman, worry not!” Sarenti d’Orien skips upon a large crate to speak to the crowd.  “House Orien will be happy to ferry you in comfort and with the greatest possible speed to Sharn aboard a Lightning Rail!”

Niall snorts, “At least someone aboard this ship is competent, thank you dear lady.  Last time I do business with Lyrandars!”  He turns on his heel and storms back below deck.

D’Meryl does glare at Sarenti, and nearly grinding his teeth manages, “Yes, House Lyrandar will work with House Orien to see you safely to your destination.  Thank you, Sarenti.”  The woman gives D’Meryl a curtsy and a wink before hoping off her crate to issue placations and promises amidst the passengers.

***

“Your ship was disabled?  Goodness, what happened?”

“I am not exactly certain, some trouble containing the elemental in the ring.  I am certain the Lyrandars will have it fixed up in no time,” Ruel explains.

The woman nods, “That must have been very hard for them, I do not know much about Dragonmarked Houses, but everyone knows those two are always trying to one-up each other.  Did everyone make it to ground safely?  I take it you brought the _Liralen _ herself in okay?”

“Oh yes, the passengers were fine and so were we.  We scratched a little paint berthing her, but the ship has some emergency air sails, and Loki and Elisa have backs strong enough for any wild wind.  Alexandre too knows a lot about sails and rigging, it was-“

Ruel is interrupted as a grotesquely-masked figure bursts out of an alleyway, screaming at the pair.  The mask is the deformed and exaggerated guise of a vampire, with exaggerated fangs, ash skin and malevolent eyes.  A shifter boy laughs and pulls up the mask, seeing that he has frightened the male half-elf stiff as a board, but he runs off quickly as the female gives him an angry look.

“Foolish boy, where are his parents?” the woman shakes her head.  She looks to Ruel, the wizard is deathly pale and his eyes are as wide as saucers.  She lays her hand on his shoulder, “Ruel?  Are you alright?”

***

Wind.  The touch of grass.  Darkness.

Ruel sits up slowly.  All about him is shadow.  The grass is not green, but thousands of tiny strands of gray shadow-stuff, licking at his fingers and legs.  A rolling field of shadow.  Ruel squints, but the small strech of field is bordered in perfect darkness, neither the sky nor the horizon is more than inky darkness.

The hard clack of bone on bone draws his attention.  Three figures are wrestling in the field, bull-men, with large horns and bestial features.  Their eyes are bright green and all three are striking at each other, hewing and grasping at something below them in the grass.

Ruel watches as gradually, viciously, one of the bull-men drives off his two competitors.  Reaching down it plucks the object from the grass, holding forth the diamond-shaped schema, the very same the Irregulars recovered from Whitehearth, reverently.  The bull-man sits, turning the schema slowly in his fingers, studying it lovingly.  But behind the bull-man, Ruel can see the shadows distorting.

Quick as a serpent a figure of shadow is upon the bull-man.  From within a great dark cloak a horrid, pale wrinkled face is revealed with glaring, menacing red eyes.  Its mouth gapes impossibly large, and its teeth are like daggers.  It sinks them into the bull-man’s neck, who bellows.  The schema is thrown in the air to land by Ruel’s side.

The red eyes focus on Ruel.

He grabs the schema and runs, finding his feet and tearing into the shadows.  He is blind, the shadows close in around him, he cannot see.  The only light comes from the red eyes behind him, growing larger, closer.

The chase seems to stretch an eternity.

Lights form ahead of him, emerald eyes.  One pair, two, five.  Helplessness is replaced by hope, he runs towards them.

_“Don’t be a fool, those eyes are many and sharp, they will see you!”_

Ruel feels the voice in his mind, and a sudden churn of heat in his stomach.  Grasping his stomach with a gasp, the heat disappears and a bundle of cloth fills his arms.

_“Cover yourself!”_

Ruel shivers, suddenly feeling naked before all the bright eyes.  He hurls the cloak around his shoulders, and it billows like fog around him.

The omnipresent darkness breaks and a massive five-headed hydra stands before him.  Its heads dart and twist, sniffing at the air, but its eyes do not see him.

Then all its heads turn his direction!  Ruel scrambles out of the way, but he can see they are focused on the red eyes behind him.  The dark shape leaps on the hydra, the hydra sinks its teeth into it and they wrestle and struggle in the shadowy plain.  Ruel hears a creak from above and looks up.  A massive puppeteer’s controller is splintering above him.  Ruel can see its strings extending to the hydra and the vampire, their savage battle revealed to be nothing more than bobs on the string.  But the beams above snap, and rend, coming crashing down.  Ruel turns to run, but it may already be too late…

***

Ruel feels the Dragonmark on his stomach throb warmly as he recalls his dream, the same dream that has haunted his sleep every night since encountering Garrow.   He does not hear the child’s laughter at his expense, but something darker and deeper.  He has the sudden sense that the shadows in the alley are about to leap at him and he flinches back.

“Ruel!” the woman grips his shoulder tight, the wizard is moving precariously close to the edge of the tower.  She turns him to face her, “What are you doing?”

“Visions,” he whispers.  His eyes focus on the woman and the spell of his dream is broken.  “Have you ever had… visions?”

“Visions,” she whispers back, her brow furrowing.  “You are frightening me Ruel, visions… they are dangerous.”

“Yes, I know,” he answers distantly.  The wizard sets his gaze on Sasha’s eyes, “How do you just… know?  How do you follow your God if he does not reveal himself to you?”  Ruel’s tone is harsher than he intends.

“But he does, Ruel.  Constantly.  You have witnessed this yourself,” she answers.

“Yes… yes I know.  I apologize.  What I meant was… how do you follow in his path?  How do you know what you do is right in his eyes?  How do you know that he truly favors you and what you do?

Sasha Larkana, cleric of Dol Arrah, swallows.  She has heard those questions and others like them asked by many, even by herself at times.  Coming from the obviously shaken wizard, with all that has happened in the past two days, they touch on the very core of her fears and doubts.  Still her voice is firm, yet kind when she answers him, “Faith, Ruel.  Dol Arrah does not have to reveal himself openly when he does so through the actions of those around us.  Even in you and your companions.”

“I do not understand,” the wizard replies carefully.

“I know.  I will try to explain.”

*****

*The 'bull-men' in Ruel's Dream represent the three factions of House Cannith, more typically represented by a Gorgon.

The Five-Headed Hydra is part of the crest of House Phiarlan.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Well, I believe that brings the storyhour back up to date.  I don't come up with titles until I post, so those are new.  

I'm sad to lose all the great reader commentary, but glad that I backed everything up on my hard drive.  Fortunately, Micah had a copy of the latest update which would otherwise have been lost.  Thanks Micah!

I did not have the chance before the wipeout, but I wanted to take the opportunity to thank Elemental for the kind words, they are appreciated!

More updates are being worked on, I hope to have some new ones posted soon.


----------



## MavrickWeirdo

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> Well, I believe that brings the storyhour back up to date.  I don't come up with titles until I post, so those are new.
> 
> I'm sad to lose all the great reader commentary, but glad that I backed everything up on my hard drive.  Fortunately, Micah had a copy of the latest update which would otherwise have been lost.  Thanks Micah!
> 
> I did not have the chance before the wipeout, but I wanted to take the opportunity to thank Elemental for the kind words, they are appreciated!
> 
> More updates are being worked on, I hope to have some new ones posted soon.




Yeah


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## Micah

Glad I could be of assistance. 

It is my job to keep track of anything that might help in future game plans. That dream of Ruels is bound to come back to haunt him.  

You did loose a bunch of nice compliments though, and I can't replace those, but I can mention that this storyhour has added immeasurably to my enjoyment of the game. It's more than a game log, or a place for me to revisit to pick up dangling plot hooks. It really fleshes out the game table and adds dimension to the entire adventuring group.

So add my thanks - though it seems a paltry thing compared to the work you've put in. tmaaas and I are grateful, and we await the next installments with as much anticipation as the folks who haven't got a clue as to what's coming next. . . .


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## Krafus

I'm glad to see none of this SH was actually lost.


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## LadyMoon

Yeah! I'm glad everything is back up again! I'm sad all the neat comments were lost too, but it just means that all those interested readers out there will have to make up for the lost comments!

Once again, I'm really excited to hear about this mysterious Sasha Larkana...


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #34: Sharn Soul-Searching*

The swish of robes marks the dawn air.  Iefan Conway raises his head, letting his meditation come to an end.  The faint aura that surrounds him dissipates into the morning sun.

Carr Vallant stands just inside the edge of the meditation glade.  Iefan observes that the Archbishop’s features and posture appears uncommonly awake for the dawning hour.  He smiles, both in a sudden flash of insight and greeting.  The Arch-bishop has not yet gone to bed.

“I never understood why you don’t take your gifts further Iefan.” It’s the easy uptake of conversation between two men who have an ongoing dialogue, yet Iefan senses a hint of consternation under the opening remark as well.

“The fields are heavy the harvesters few?” Iefan turns the quote into a probe of Vallant’s disquiet.

Vallant sighs and holds out a hand to Iefan, helping him up from his kneeling posture, “No it’s more along the lines of, ‘Let those who can lead, do so.’”

“Ahh so that’s what’s troubling you.  Carr, I don’t wish to leave my diocese, there are bonds between those I guide and myself, my congregation, my initiates, the novitiates and clerics who are growing into their own gifts.  I don’t feel the call to lead within the church, only within my people.  I’m a shepherd Carr, not a politician.”

“Which is why we so desperately need you.  I won’t trouble you with it this season again.  But Iefan, it might be the bonds that you speak of holding you to your diocese are the sacrifice of moving towards the will of the Host.”

There is silence as the two men walk from the meditation glade, each lost in his thoughts.  As their footsteps start to echo on the well-worn temple flagstone, Vallant once again picks up the conversation.  “Actually I didn’t come to talk to you about that.  I would like you to help me ascertain the gifts of one of the clerics I’m mentoring.”

“You haven’t done that yourself already?” 

“I have not: although I sense great potential. I would like you to,” He pauses, “Iefan, I would like for you to place him, preferably in a very challenging district.  Siôn needs to be tried.”

“I have a position in Lower Tavick’s Landing. The people are poor and there’s the usual amount of squabbling.” Iefan sighs, “But I sense that isn’t what you mean by ‘tried’”.

“No it isn’t.  Perhaps one of your clerics could use a sabbatical.  My communes have suggested that Siôn should be tested in a place of great strife.  I believe he will weather whatever circumstances are thrown at him,” Unbroken sunlight washes over the temple spire. “Especially under your guidance.  You’ve proven that with the right support and the right gifts even a post at Blackstone church can be maintained.”

Iefa’s expression clouds, “Sasha is gifted.  And once I spoke about her, much as you are of your young protégé.  Yet I fear that the area is becoming too much even for her.  She doesn’t understand that just having been there for two years is an accomplishment no other cleric I’ve worked with could boast of.  Carr, the young people we place there come out injured in spirit, scarred.  I fear for Sasha and what the post there is doing to her.  And for what? The Ravers continue to rage.  The area is still a desolate wasteland.  I think even a cleric as talented as Sasha would be better off serving where she can actively refine her gifts.  Fallen seems to be a prison sentence that wears at the sanity of any who abide there.  It should be abandoned.  We need to be wise of how we invest what’s entrusted to us.”

“Place Siôn there.  Sasha deserves a sabbatical.”

“I’m sorry Carr.  I don’t want to watch another cleric fall into despair and hopelessness.  There are some demons we are meant to fight against and there are some that we would be wisest to flee from.”

The Archbishop stops, catching the embers of emotion that he senses could become flames if he pushes too hard.  Iefan’s inability to separate his heart from those he works with is the priest’s greatest short falling and his greatest strength.

“Only once more Iefan.  If Siôn fails, I’ll personally sign the disbandment of Blackstone.”  Seeing argument rise once more in Iefan’s eyes he adds, “Pray about it.  Test Siôn.  Visit Sasha.  Meditate on this before you answer.”

In a swish of robes and vestments the Archbishop turns to leave, “May the Host guide you, my friend.”

***

Iefan motions Siôn to a chair across from his desk, greeting the young man with a smile. Sandy brown hair, a trimmed beard, and a worn leather scabbard catch his eye; as does a scar that runs the length of the left side of his face. The young man moves with confidence and grace.

“Greetings in the name of the Host,” Siôn repeats the standard salutation with easy confidence.

Iefan responds with a query, “What does that mean ‘in the name of the Host?’”

A spark flares in Siôn’s eyes as he quickly grapples the testing phrase, “The implication is that one is a messenger from the Host, capable of sharing their acknowledgement and invested with their authority.”

“What message do you have from them?  What greeting?  And with what power have
you been invested?”

Iefan twists the catechism, seeking honesty instead of rote, character instead of tradition.  His eyes lock on those of the young man sitting across from him and he lets his own gifts and intuitions have free reign.  They ferret out the core of passion in Siôn, weighing and testing along with his words.  In the end it is there: Unwavering conviction, hope, and altruism.  A triple bound cord of strength; the strongest gifts of the Host.

***

Ruel Dunnanne d’Phiarlan sits alone in a messy room at the Boar’s Head in Sharn.  He scans the assorted junk left by his roommates with annoyance.  Originally, the wizard had sought more lavish accommodations after the crew had been dismissed for shore leave while the _Liralen _ was repaired, but the exorbitant price had made him balk.  Instead, he decided to lodge with the other Irregulars he had worked with the most closely onboard, and Dox had come through with an incredibly cheap price at this Changling-friendly inn.

“There are costs in gold and then there are costs in aggravation,” he mutters, turning his eyes back to his work.  The parchment before him is filled with gibberish.  Gibberish, that is, unless one were to have his elaborate four-language alphanumeric substitution cipher in their possession.  Ruel dips his quill back into the ink and considers a moment, the tip wavering over the bottom of the page.  Finally, he sketches a hasty rendering of a dancing toad.

“What will the Hydra make of this, I wonder,” he muses quietly.  As if in answer, a floorboard creaks outside his door and a shadow blocks the lantern-light spilling under the inn room door.

***

Dox stares down his foe, opposite him.  The changling has carefully crafted a perfectly placid expression and the tools in hand are good, more than enough to best his opponent.  He can see the sweat rolling down from the man’s brow.  The man’s eyes flick down and he swallows in reflexive greed at the large pile of gold and silver on the table.  Finally he sets his expression, far too late, and pushes in the remainder of his money.

“Call.”

Dox breaks into a grin and lays down his cards.  The rest of the table cheers and pats the changling on the back, while his opponent groans and throws his own hand away, covering his face in anguish.

“Looks like my run of bad luck is over,” Dox says brightly, pulling the pile of coins towards him.

A couple of throw away hands he leaves the table to rejoin Alexandre and One-Eyed Jack at the front of the casino.  The two are laughing and talking like old buddies, which by all appearance they are.  The Irregulars first order of business on landing in Sharn was finding a guide and when Alexandre had recognized Jack, the decision was made to hire him on the spot.  Most of the guides looked little better than thieves and cutpurses and Dox reasoned better a thief who was a friend than a stranger.

Alexandre isn’t that far removed from a pirate anyways.

“There he is!  Your luck change any today?” Alexandre calls out as Dox approaches.

“Some,” Dox smiles, glancing briefly at Jack.  “Good enough for a round or two at the Boar’s Head, if you lot are up for it.”

“Always!” Alexandre grins, “Come on Jack, I’ll buy you a round!  Hey did, I tell you about how this guy picked a lock in five seconds right in front of the head guard on our ship?”

“Really?” Jack comments, smiling appraisingly at Dox.  “That takes guts, but not a lot of smarts.”

Alexandre grins, “You should have seen the guard’s face, he looked like he swallowed a lemon!”

Dox chuckles, “I was just… eager to help.”

Alexandre guffaws, “Aye, if you take too long to find your keys, Dox’ll pop the lock for ya lickety split!”

“So how long are you all planning on staying in Sharn?  If your gonna be awhile I could get you a job, old buddy.”  Jack looks askance at Dox, “Your friend too, I imagine.”

“Not too long..  Just until our ship is ready to go,” Dox interjects quickly.

“Aye, so let’s worry about having fun, work can wait!  Let’s have at the port ‘till we leave port!” Alexandre laughs again.

“Sounds like you’ve already had at it plenty ‘Xandre!” Dox laughs along with him, “How do you keep winning at these places when you’re skunked like that?”

“By doing the unexpected!” Alexandre shouts, drawing looks from all quarters as they meander through the skyways of Sharn.  “Same way I bested those toughs at Stormhome, did I tell you about that one Jack?”

Dox breathes a sign of relief as the Boar’s Head looms ahead.  “Definitely could use a few drinks now,” he mutters, opening the door to the changling-dominated inn.  He smiles at the plethora of forms and faces inside, many not even making a passing attempt at normalcy.  Most of his kind spent much of their lives trying to blend in; here they can set themselves apart freely.  He hasn’t felt this at home anywhere else.

A hand on each of their shoulders spins Dox and Alexandre around.  Audric has been waiting for them and looks at them seriously, “Come upstairs, we need to speak privately.”

***

Iefan Conway returns to his office and shuts the door behind him, pressing aside an errant wish to shut his worries away just as easily.  He finds his way to his desk and sits, reflecting on the stagnant darkness suffusing him.

Slowly he straightens in his chair, a gesture and a supplication is all that is required to summon the light and banish the darkness.  He reaches into his desk and retrieves two envelopes, reading the familiar label on each cover: Blackstone Church, Fallen District, Sharn and Sasha Larkana.

Iefan takes a tremulous breath as he looks over the file on Blackstone.  The story is a familiar one, inside and out of Sharn.  The Glass Tower fell out of the sky eighty years ago, devastating what was once known as Godsgate.  Rather than pick up the pieces, gold was spent on grander edifices and temples in better locations.  The district was abandoned, overlooked in an era where the machine of war outweighed the cause of charity.  It became a slum and a wasteland, abandoned by the government and the church.

But there were some who would not or could not abandon the district.  The survivors banded together and struggled with each other over the basics of survival, food and shelter.  Yet there was more than that.  The popular rumor was that the spirits of the restless dead inhabited the survivors and turned them into the Ravers, urban barbarians, barely more than wild animals.

Iefan glances to Sasha’s file.  Tracing his fingers along the weathered envelope, he feels emptiness inside where once there had been excitement.  He had thought she was the answer.

He had not been the only one, for the signs seemed crystal clear.  He found her as a small child outside Blackstone, clad in clean white and surrounded by fragmented glass.  She could have been one of the victims from the Glass Tower tragedy, had it not been sixty years after that cursed day.  She was unmoving, certainly dead.  Miraculously, however, he had touched her shoulder and she stirred, not only was she alive but uninjured.  She had smiled up to him with a light that could only have been sent by Dol Arrah.

“Far too long since I have seen that smile,” Iefan murmurs, “Only tears and bitter hardness.  What have I done to you child?”


----------



## Krafus

Uh oh, looks like Ruel is about to have a visitor...

I wonder what part Sasha will play in all this? She must be someone important for Ruel to confide in her.


----------



## LordVyreth

The Ravers?  I'm guessing either you or Keith Baker is a huge Firefly fan...


----------



## Micah

Keith Baker gets the credit for the Ravers. 
At this point in the game we were heading the PC's through  
_Fallen Angel_ from the December 2003 edition of Dungeon (issue 117)

We wanted something easy while in Sharn since we were busy crafting the 4th/5th level adventure that would come next. It worked out great as background to introduce a new PC.
It also has quite a bit of potential to build on in the future considering some of the game elements we have in play.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #35: A Job Offer*

Iefan reflects on Sasha’s post, two long years in Blackstone.  Over those two years Sasha has done everything that could be asked of her and more.  And yet conditions have not improved, they have deteriorated.  She has won over a few scattered people in The Fallen, but far too few and they can do little to champion the cause of their district.   

The criminals and corrupt in the city have begun to use Fallen as a training ground or for cruel entertainment, subjecting prisoners to the Raver gangs and taking bets on how long they last.  Sasha has stood against them, both putting her life on the line in the defense of the Fallen’s inhabitants and taking her complaints to the city government, yet nothing is done.  It is an issue all too easy to ignore and Sasha suspects corruption amidst the government itself.  He is inclined to agree.

Yet Sasha’s persistence had appeared to pay off, an aid package was drafted by the City Council for Fallen, money that would be earmarked for the restoration of the district and finally end the eighty-year tragedy.  Yet the Lord Mayor struck it down, dedicating the money to House Cannith for structural repairs to other towers, to prevent something of the same scale from happening again.  At least, that was the line for the Sharn Inquisitor.

‘Every city has its slums,’ the convenient excuse of those in power to ignore the plight of the downtrodden.  Iefan Conway puts the files away and dismisses the light with a hasty gesture.

“Sasha, you need help.”

***

_Ruel,

I have an unexpected matter that has come up and was wondering if you and your friends would be willing to aid me.  There is some urgency involved but I will make it worth your time.  My residential suite is located in Silvervine, in the Ocean View District.

Erma_

“Who was this again?” Dox asks.

“Don’t you remember, that elf always carrying clay around?” Alexandre replies.  The small note itself is sealed with red clay instead of wax.

“Oh yeah, she seemed nice.” Dox nods.  “So where is Ruel anyways?”

“He said he had an errand to run,” Audric shrugs.  “He should be back soon.  Regardless, it is late and we will not call until the morning.  He believes we should go, I agree.”

Alexandre makes a face, “A job huh?  Well, it better pay well, better than all the money we’re raking in gambling, eh Dox?”

Dox smiles, “Nothing wrong with quitting while we’re ahead.  How ‘bout Loki and Elisa?”

Audric nods, “They are weapon shopping, but both she and Loki agreed it would be a good idea.  I believe she was quite eager to try out her new magic greatsword.”

Alexandre slaps them on the back, “Right, that settles it, so long as the pay is good, we’ll do it.”

***

Elisa grins as she returns with Loki to the Boar’s Head, “What are you going to do with that harpoon?  Go fishing?”

Loki smiles, “Not exactly.  I thought it might be a good way to… retrieve any foe that would choose to flee from us.”

Elisa lifts an eyebrow, “Interesting!  Think you could hit that old beggar over there?”  She points to an old man shambling out from an alleyway.

“What old beggar?  All I see is Ruel,” Loki answers.

“Where are you looking, can’t you… huh,” Elisa frowns.  The old man she saw is gone.  Instead she sees Ruel walking into the Boar’s Head.  “That’s weird.”

“Let’s go inside,” Loki shrugs.

***

Jack squints as the Irregulars give him the address of Ermineth d’Phiarlan’s home and studio, “Aye, I know the place.  That district’s pretty upper crust, you’ll need to ditch your weapons.”

Elisa looks crestfallen, but the Irregulars stow their weapons back in their room, then follow Jack.  The Oceanview district is gated and the guards question their business and search them for weapons, before waving them through.  They approach an impressive spire where a bugbear in fine livery stands at the doorway.

“Welcome to Silvervine, you’re expected,” he says gruffly.  “Ermineth d’Phiarlan is on the third floor, to the left.

“Thank you,” Ruel answers quickly.  The Irregulars take a broad stairway to Ermineth’s studio and the white-haired elf is waiting for them.  She smiles up at Ruel, “Thank you for coming.  Please, come inside.”
Her studio is lavish.  Exquisite statues are set in niches within the walls, and smaller pieces are laid out in sealed glass displays amidst her comfortable furniture.  The aging elf is clearly not a starving artist.  She leads them through the halls to a crowded workshop, where shaping and carving tools as well as large blocks of clay are set haphazardly.  Half-finished sculptures and stacked sketches litter her long worktables.  A section of the room is sealed off behind a dark curtain

“I will get right to the point,” Ermineth begins after the Irregulars find places to stand inside.  “My studio has been broken into.  I pay well for twenty-four hour security and arcane protection of a rather expensive sort.  Yet there was no sign of these burglars’ entry.  Only one thing was stolen.”  She pulls aside the black curtain.  A glass display case is set therein, completely empty.  Beside it, lays a body in dirty clothes.  There is neither blood nor obvious marks of a struggle on the body, or around it.

Dox immediately moves forward, bending down by the body, “Who is this?  What happened here?”

“I have been robbed, Dox.  Though I must say I have far more valuable items to casual thieves than this item, but then, my security arrangements are enough to deter casual thieves,” Ermineth chuckles.  “Who this is, I do not know exactly, save that he is a Raver, without any doubt.

Audric circumnavigates the glass display case slowly as Ermineth speaks, then shakes his head.  “There is no damage to the case, none at all.”

Ermineth nods, “I have been over it very carefully.  It was not visibly disturbed.”

“Magic then,” Ruel reasons.  “There are spells for opening locks and retrieving items discreetly that could account for this.  When did this occur, Ermineth?”

“Last night sometime.  I do not doubt your assertion Ruel, but…”

“After this much time, we are unlikely to find lingering magical auras,” Ruel finishes, nodding.  “I suspect that if we did, there would be little chance of finding and retrieving the object in any event, the abilities of the thief would likely outclass most any detection.”

Dox studies the dead man carefully.  He is dressed in grungy clothes, but they might have been fine clothing once.  Now they are no more than rags.  The man is heavily scarred and tattooed, but one of his tattoos on his hands catches his attention, a stylized stone between two clasped hands. “What is this here, on his palm?”  Dox asks, lifting the man’s hand.

“A Raver clan symbol,” Ermineth nods.

Elisa clears her throat from the back of the group of Irregulars, “What exactly was stolen?”

Ermineth smiles, “Forgive me dear, you will need to know that won’t you?  I have a sketch of it, but quite simply it is the marble arm of a statue.”  Ermineth produces a rolled parchment and presents it to Elisa for inspection.

Alexandre rubs his chin, “How’d you come across this arm?”

Ermineth looks to him, “I was present in Sharn when the glass tower fell.  Like many others I was curious, and I walked around what is now Fallen.  I found it on the streets.  It is exquisite, more life-like than the work of many who consider themselves fine sculptors.  I took it; better off in my hands then a callous looter.  I have kept it since and long sought the whole statue.”

“This is a bit of a setback,” Loki comments.

“Perhaps,” the elderly elf smiles, “But I prefer to think of it as an opportunity.  The statue was no doubt lost in Fallen.  These Ravers may have other pieces or the whole statue in their possession.  Therefore, I am prepared to make the following offer to you.

She clears her throat, “Recover the arm, I will reward you with 500 gold pieces.”

Alexandre grouses under his breath, “Split six ways, that’s poor booty for a dangerous voyage.”

Ermineth’s expression twinkles, “Recover the whole statue, I will make that gold platinum.”

Alexandre whistles, “That’s a sight better!  Count us in lass!”

“Wonderful!” Ermineth laughs.  “There is a woman you should consult with in Fallen.  Her name is Sasha Larkana, you can find her at the old Blackstone church, just inside the district’s gates.  She is as close to an expert on Ravers that exists in Sharn.  She might be able to tell you what that tattoo represents and where to find the others like him.”

***

“What??  You want to go where!?  Are you daft ‘Xandre?  That district is the worse of a bad lot in the bowels of Sharn, no one goes there!” One-Eyed Jack sputters, outside the Boar’s Head.

“Come on old mate, it’ll be an adventure, just like old times!  We could use your sharp eyes and steady hand, whatd’ya say, one more time for an old mate?” Alexandre grins.

“You’re my mate and I’ll see you safely through most anywhere in this city ‘Xandre, where otherwise...” Jack trails off.  “I’ll see you to the gates, if you must, but no farther.  That district is cursed, haunted and a deathtrap.  If you’d heard half the things I have, you wouldn’t be going.”

“Aye, mayhaps,” Alexandre muses, then grins.  “But we haven’t and we are, so lead on Jack!  Just a shame you won’t get a share of the treasure once we’re done.”

As the Irregulars start on their way, Loki turns to Elisa.  “Seems like there will be blood to shed, I hope we do not walk to our deaths.”

Elisa smiles, reaching back to clap the scabbard of her massive new greatsword.  “Bring it on.  Bring it on.”


----------



## Micah

Nice update! Ermineth is probably still chuckling about being called a lass.


----------



## Serenity

Hey PhoenixAsh

Just read through the thread I must say that I really enjoy the writing.  I particularly enjoyed the cut scenes with Ruel telling the story to Sasha.  Very nice.  You all have captiured the 'flavor' of Eberron exceptionally well.  
So all I can say is, "More Irregulars please!"


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Serenity said:
			
		

> Hey PhoenixAsh
> 
> Just read through the thread I must say that I really enjoy the writing.  I particularly enjoyed the cut scenes with Ruel telling the story to Sasha.  Very nice.  You all have captiured the 'flavor' of Eberron exceptionally well.
> So all I can say is, "More Irregulars please!"




Thanks Serenity!  I'n glad your enjoying the writing.  I'm a bit slow to grant your request, but another update is coming up in a few minutes.

Funny story about the next installment.  The session detailed is the first one with Sasha's player (LadyMoon) at the table.  On the ride there I told her all about the great maps Micah and Tmaas create, the multi-level airship, Rose Quarry, the Whitehearth maps, and so on and so forth.

Our first map of the night?  Stacked Leggos on a battlemat.  I mean it worked great for what we needed but...    

The map of the Fallen Tower is great though, hopefully Micah will share.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #36: The Priestess of Blackstone*

The bare, dark stone greets her as she emerges from her cell, as familiar as the daily ritual of preparation and prayer.  If only it could be as comforting.  The dull metal sound of her greaves on the heavy stone echo in the broken church as she strides to the crumbling altar, bowing in prayer.  Daylight is faint so deep in the City of Towers, doing little to illuminate the darkness of Blackstone Church.  It is the solid core of her faith that provides her with illumination, the tenants and teachings of Dol Arrah and the clear certainty of a vision never forgotten.

Footfalls and voices break the peace of her prayers.  She rises and wheels, alert for danger, no stranger to her even here in her refugee amidst the suffering of Fallen.  The six people who walk through the arched entry of Blackstone are an unusual sight and inwardly she glowers.  Jailors, gangs, city officials and mercenaries all desire terrible things from Fallen, and this group has the look of just such n outfit.  Her expression remains placid as she greets them, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” one of them steps forward.  He is dressed in an over-sized cloak and crudely applied smudges do not hide his well-manicured features.  Her suspicions deepen.  “Are you Sasha Larkana?”

“I am.  May I ask what brings you to Blackstone?”

“We are the faithful!”  The figure that answers has every look of a Raver, thoug he is betraying none of their mannerisms.  His answer draws an elbow from the one who responded to her greeting, who hastily introduces the group.

“My name is Ruel Dunnanne.  Piety itself here is Dox, and these are Loki, Elisa, Alexandre and Audric,” Ruel introduces the disguised Dox and the rest of the Irregulars with an encompassing gesture.  “We are looking to retrieve stolen property which we have reason to believe can be found here, in Fallen.”

Sasha considers this, “What reason do you have to suspect that these stolen items may be found here?”

Ruel gestures to Dox, “We found a body at the scene of the theft, which looked exactly as Dox here does now.”

Sasha strides forward, approaching them.  She looks carefully at Dox, studying his guise.  “Your… impersonation is quite flawless, though you act nothing like a Raver.”

“Thanks!” Dox beams.  “How should a Raver act?”

“Violent and insane, of course,” she answers sharply.  She looks closely at the Irregulars once more, “Are you new to Sharn?” She reaches for Dox’s hand, lifting it to study the tattoo on his palm.

“We’ve only been here a little while,” Dox nods.  “I studied that tattoo closely, does it mean anything?”

Sasha hesitates, “You are aware that Ravers do not leave Fallen?  That a Raver taking interest in anything outside this district is unheard of?”

“Well, first time for everything right?” Dox replies.

Sasha releases his hand, looking between Ruel and Dox once more, “What are your true intentions here?”

“The retrieval of the stolen property, nothing more.  I witnessed the scene of the theft myself; it was done without any forced entry, without disturbing any of a series of wards and alarms, as well as without alerting any of the residence’s guards.  All that was left was one body.  It was not even apparent what killed him.  We have no other lead to follow.”

Sasha studies Ruel’s earnest expression before answering, “What was stolen, exactly?”

“A piece of a statue, a marble arm,” Elisa produces the sketch from Ermineth that details the arm.  Sasha examines it momentarily.  “The tattoo is that of the Stone Keepers,” she says at last.  “I will admit I have seen members of the Stone Keepers gathering up bits and pieces of sculpture in Fallen.  I would consider it harmless, but if they have extended this activity outside of Fallen… that is not the kind of attention I would wish drawn to this district.”

Audric clears his throat, “Can you tell us where we can find these ‘Stone Keepers?’”

Sasha folds her arms, “I will do so.  Further, I will lead you to where they make their home, at least, if they have not been driven out by another gang or moved on of their own accord, if you will make me a promise.”  She looks each Irregular in the eye, “I ask that you do not bring harm to any of the people here except in self-defense and that you allow me to speak to any Raver group we might encounter before engaging in violence.”

“Our singular goal is the retrieval of the arm,” Ruel smiles.  “We would be happy for you to guide us and accept those terms.”

“And all of you so promise?” Sasha looks to the group of Irregulars once more.

All the Irregulars agree, though Elisa adds, “That’s fine, but if I’m attacked, I’m not holding back any.”

Sasha nods, “That is wise, those who are truly beyond reason are fearless and savage beyond any understanding.”

***

The Priestess of Blackstone leads the Irregulars into the depths of The Fallen ruins.  Blackstone church itself is mostly in one piece, but the majority of the rest of the district is made up largely of piles of rubble and the bones of buildings; broken stone support columns and a few free standing walls.

Clear paths through the debris are rare, and though Sasha leads them along the best route she knows, the Irregulars are forced to scramble over debris and loose rubble several times.  Their progress creates a horrible racket that seems to fill the broken place.  Every ear strains for signs of Ravers, and the group halts multiple times at half-imagined sounds of crumbling stone or voices.  Sasha does not endure long pauses, however, and keeps the Irregulars moving rather than indulge their paranoia. “Better we keep ourselves a moving target, keep your mind on your footing,” she coaxes.

“Wait!  I’m sure I hear… look out!” Dox ducks suddenly as a rock whistles by his head.  “Ambush!”

Ruel looks back along the rock’s path, clearly seeing a hunched figure on a fragmented wall above them, then another near by.  “Above us!” Ruel warns, as he moves in to the middle of the group of Irregulars, casting swiftly and surrounding himself in the familiar protection of _Mage Armor_.

A barrage of rocks falls amidst the Irregulars.  One skitters across the ground at Elisa’s feet, while another smashes against Loki’s back, crumbling to pieces on his breastplate and drawing an annoyed grunt from the half-giant, “Looks like they have us surrounded.”  He frees his greataxe and strides to the base of the stonework below the Raver that pelted him.  A massive piece of masonry suddenly breaks off and nearly crushes the half-giant, who looks up to see a Raver gibbering unintelligibly at him.  Loki grimaces and begins to clamber up the stonework.

Sasha scans the Raver group quickly, and her experienced eye quickly locates the group’s distinctive markings.  “Blood Drinkers!  Defend yourselves!”  She along with the rest of the Irregulars free their bows and crossbows to return fire, forming a circle which Ruel happily remains in the center of.

Elisa grimaces as her arrow goes wide. “Come on down here!” she yells up at them.  Behind her, Dox let’s fly with an arrow that sticks in the Raver above Loki. “Stay up there!” he shouts.

Alexandre and Audric load crossbows, but aside from Dox none of the Irregulars have any luck hitting any of the Ravers.  Fortunately, the Ravers have equal bad luck and another volley of rocks patters harmlessly around the clustered Irregulars.  Ruel conjures a field of _Grease _ under a Raver, but he keeps his feet and moves higher on the stonework, out of the slippery field.

The Raver above Loki bellows, ripping out Dox’s arrow from his shoulder with a gout of blood.  Reaching back to pick up a massive club he swings it two-handed down at Loki.  The wild strike hits Loki in the head and there is a sickening crunch as the half-giants face is slammed into the stonework in front of him.  Gritting back the pain, Loki hoists himself up and brings his great-axe to bear.  His blade tears through the Raver’s unprotected flesh, but he only howls and brings his club back for another violent attack.

More rocks pelt at the Irregulars, one breaking harmlessly on Sasha’s steel armor.  She looses an arrow at her attacker, who ducks behind the stonework to avoid being hit.

“Oh, this is pointless!” Elisa shoulders her bow and sprints towards a column with a group of the Ravers on top of it.  She leaps up and grabs the lip of the stonework, hoisting herself up in a single smooth motion.  The two Ravers kick and lash at her, but she weathers the attacks without harm and frees her greatsword as she steadies herself on the ledge.

“Good idea lass!”  Alexandre charges for the base of the stonework and leaps up to grab the lip of it himself.  He has a harder time pulling himself up and just barely keeps a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the column.  One of the Ravers above hurls a rock at him, and he cringes as it clacks off the stonework by his head.  “Give me a mast and rigging above this any day,” he mutters, struggling to find purchase in the rough stone, his feet sliding on the face of the column.

Dox nocks another arrow and looses it at a nearby Raver above them.  The arrow bursts into flame in flight, striking the wild man in the gut, he hisses and stumbles but keeps his balance.

Audric and Ruel hurl bolt and magic into the melee between Loki and the Raver, but Audric’s bolt goes wide and Ruel’s _Daze _ cantrip is shrugged off.  The Raver’s greatclub arcs down but Loki meets it with the steel of his greataxe, throwing the Raver off-balance.  Loki steals the momentum to bring his blade to bear on the Raver’s exposed side.  The blow overcomes the wild man and he topples off the stonework, dead before he hits the ground.

A Raver lashes out at Elisa, trying to knock her off the stonework, but slips as he moves across the still active _Grease _ spell, falling to the ground below with a mangled scream.  The Raver rises to his feet quickly, screaming in rage.  Elisa barely spares the fallen Raver a glance as his partner lurches forward to swing his club two-handed at her.  She jerks out of its path, and then shifts forward to bring her blade down, opening a deep gash shoulder to hip.  Bone and sinew is visible before blood clouds the terrible wound, yet the Raver does not go down, howling insanely at her.  She snarls back and hefts her greatsword to strike again.

Below Sasha drops her bow and quickly frees her longsword, stepping from the knot of Irregulars to engage the fallen Raver.  As she approaches a shadow crosses her vision and she swiftly glances upward.  A Raver leaps onto Alexandre, still struggling on the stonework, and quickly wraps his arms around his neck, pulling back hard.  Alexandre can’t hold on and the Raver twists him around so he is driven face-first into the loose stone and glass.  On her opposite side another Raver attempts to climb down, but looses his grip and crashes to the ground, broken glass and jagged stone tearing open his arms and legs.

Dox continues to send arrows into the Ravers above the party, the shaft of his latest arrow bursting from the man’s gut in a cloud of grease.  The Raver is injured, but keeps his balance in the sudden slick pool beneath his feet.

Alexandre and the Raver tousle on the ground, but Alexandre is up first, bleeding from dozens of small wounds.  He draws his thinblade and skewers the Raver struggling to his feet.  Audric charges across the debris and deftly delivers a swift kick to the gut of the rising Raver, drawing another grunt.  The Raver lashes out from the ground, but can’t hit either of the agile Irregulars, now flanking him.  Ruel casts Web, and the thick clinging tendrils cut off the other fallen Raver from the scattered Irregulars and bind another, completely entangling him.  Loki clambers back down the stonework, as all the Ravers within reach have gone to ground.

The Raver before Sasha slams his club under her guard in a violent motion.  Her plate armor cushions it from being a fatal blow, but she grimaces as the impact knocks her into the adjacent stone pillar.  Her own blade flickers out, drawing a shallow gash in the Raver’s arm.

Elisa whirls away from another clumsy club strike from the Raver she is facing, and her blade arcs back around, separating head from body in a single swipe.  She scans the melee below between the Priestess and the Raver, but the _Web _ is preventing her from leaping down into the fight.  “Damn wizards,” she mutters, switching back to her bow to pester the remaining Raver, twenty feet above and on another stone structure.

Loki moves towards the fallen Raver, writhing around wildly below Alexandre and Audric.  Loki smirks, the Raver is doing more harm to himself on the churned glass than the nimble Irregulars dodging his club.  Loki steps forward to deliver a killing blow…

…and the Ravers wild thrashing brings the club around straight for his head.  The world explodes in bright painful light for the half-giant, then darkness as he keels over.  Alexandre swiftly twists his thinblade into the Raver’s chest then brings his dagger across the man’s neck, ending his life in a quick, merciless slash.  “Man down!” he calls out.

The Raver behind the _Web _ shouts incoherently at the Irregulars, but moves around the magical obstruction.  Dox looses an arrow at him, but it shatters on the stonework above his shoulder.  Ruel clutches his Pearl of Power, conjuring the pool of Grease back between him and the Raver, but the agile barbarian does not falter, and licks blood from his face as he stares down the wizard.

Another rock bounces off the shoulder of her plate mail, but Sasha ignores it.  The Raver before her drives his club down in another overhead attack, viciously breaking her guard and pummeling her again.  She slashes back, cutting deep wounds, but she grimly realizes the man will not go down in the haze of rage that overtakes the Ravers in battle.  She swiftly prays for the strength to weather another attack.

Ruel swallows as the Raver before him crosses his Grease spell with all the difficulty of walking through a puddle.  His club is huge and it is all Ruel can do to raise his arms to ward off a strike to his head.  The weapon slams into him; but the impact is absorbed, his _Mage Armor_ weathering the strike.  The Raver looks confused, and then snarls as an arrow from Dox snaps into his thigh.  Ruel doesn’t stick around, swiftly retreating behind other Irregulars.

Alexandre scurries back to dig a potion out from Loki’s backpack while Audric moves beside him and looses a bolt that slams into the rock-tossing Raver’s gut.  Despite weathering multiple _Grease _ spells and several missiles from the Irregulars, the Raver meets his end trying to clamber down the stonework after Audric; the rock face crumbles from his grip.  He falls hard and does not get up.

Sasha desperately tries to bring her shield between her and the Raver’s clubbing attacks, but he is too fast.  Ribs crack and her vision contracts as she struggles with consciousness, but she keeps her feet, staggered.  She stumbles back and calls on the healing of her God, casting _Cure Moderate Wounds_.  Her call is answered and bone and flesh are made whole again.

Above Elisa whoops and grins as Sasha steps back, leaving her an opening to attack.  She leaps from the edge of the stonework, freeing her greatsword as she falls.  She lands carefully on two relatively flat pieces of rock, and it is almost as an afterthought that she extends her sword to balance her fall.  The blade finds purchase: in the Raver assailing Sasha.  Elisa smirks at Sasha and slides her blade free as the Raver slumps to the ground.

Dox strides forward to the edge of the _Web_.  The last Raver remains tangled inside, struggling furiously in the binding strands of webbing.  Carefully he sights an arrow and lets it fly.  The arrow lodges through the Raver’s eye and into his brain, killing him in an instant.  A moment later, the _Web _ disappears, dismissed with a thought by Ruel.

The Irregulars take a moment to heal, Loki downing two _Cure Light Wounds_ potions, the first administered by Alexandre, the second taken by the half-giant after he retakes his feet.  Sasha moves up to Alexandre and _Cures _ him as well.  She bends by the dead Raver at his feet and lays a hand on his brow. “May he find peace now,” she whispers.

As the Irregulars spreads out to examine the bodies and retrieve spent arrows and bolts, Sasha calls them back together, “Do not stray!  We must press onward, I can see that you are skilled, but we could be attacked again at any moment.  It would not go well for any of you if you were caught alone.”

Needing no further encouragement, the Irregulars gather back together and press on through the ruins.  Thankfully, they are not attacked again before reaching their destination, ground zero of the destruction of Fallen.

It is an old masonry structure, impaled by a massive glass spire.  One half of the building is completely obliterated, nothing more than fractured glass and stone.  The other holds the twisted, but mostly whole remains of the upside down glass tower cradled in between cracked stone walls.  “Just as when I first laid eyes upon it, just as it was when it fell,” Sasha comments, staring at the fused structure.

“The Stone Keepers are inside?” Audric asks.

“I believe so.  As I told you before, most of the Raver groups are… chaotic in the extreme,” she answers.  “Yet, I do not believe we will find that this group has been displaced.  Let’s go.”  She strides forward, and the Irregulars follow her into the fused structure.


----------



## Micah

I can share a clip of the map, but not the whole map. It's a revision of Chris Wests impeccable cartography. One of those sticky legal areas and I don't want to cause waves.

LOL that's funny though about the maps. Heh, not just legos but the giant sized duplos in primary colors. Well every once in a while we need to tax your guys imagination!


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## Serenity

*Woohoo Update!*

Nice update Phoenix!  Sounds like a lot of cursed dice during the ranged volleys.    
I liked the description of Alexandre getting slammed face first into the rubble and glass.  Brutal!!  (and I'm sure Alexandre's player wasn't too thrilled about it).  

Anyway thanks for the update and keep 'em comin!!


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## PhoenixAsh

Serenity said:
			
		

> Nice update Phoenix!  Sounds like a lot of cursed dice during the ranged volleys.
> I liked the description of Alexandre getting slammed face first into the rubble and glass.  Brutal!!  (and I'm sure Alexandre's player wasn't too thrilled about it).
> 
> Anyway thanks for the update and keep 'em comin!!




We were rolling some odd dice that night, I remember.

Tmaas couldn't hit us worth a lick with ranged attacks, I remember him complaining about not getting a result in double digits on most of the Raver's rock-tossing.  On the other hand, he had no trouble making a lot of saving throws against Ruel's spells and hit quite well in melee.  Neither Sasha nor Loki's armor class is anything to sneeze at, and he hit them consistently.  Loki dropped where Alexandre and Sasha stayed on their feet largely because of the extra hit die he missed out on because of +1 LA.  He gets a lot of power for it as a half-giant, but it is hard to get around low hit points.

Still, all the Irregulars will have cause to be thankful for Loki's presence before the day is done...


----------



## Krafus

Nice description of the battle... Out of curiosity, what level are the PCs as of that battle?


----------



## hbarsquared

I would also like to chime in about how excellent as your description of the battle, Phoenix.  It is definitely one of the draws (one of _many_) to your story hour.  I love seeing how the characters interact with the environment as a result of a good or bad roll.  Very well done.  Another great update.


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## PhoenixAsh

jeremy_dnd said:
			
		

> I would also like to chime in about how excellent as your description of the battle, Phoenix.  It is definitely one of the draws (one of _many_) to your story hour.  I love seeing how the characters interact with the environment as a result of a good or bad roll.  Very well done.  Another great update.




Thanks jeremy_dnd and Krafus!  I spent a lot of time working on those battle descriptions in this update, I'm really glad that it's enjoyable.   

At this point, we're 3rd level.  Ruel is enjoying the giddy thrill of throwing second level spells around (aside from that errant _Pyrotechnics _ at Elaydren).


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## hbarsquared

Any new updates for us?

And a :bump: for those who haven't begun reading this great story hour, yet.


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## Micah

*Hey PhoenixAsh*

The Dundjinni forums have been having an art contest appropriate to the holiday. As I was creating these I couldn't help but think what a mess they could cause in the game.

Ruel's wisdom modifier wouldn't interfere with his use of one of these,
Alexandre might chug one to see exactly how much alcohol it has in it, 
and I think scariest of all, it could land in Dox's stash.

Not that you guys have time to play with such things right now, what with saving the world and all. . .


----------



## Need_A_Life

BUMP!

I miss this thread updating...


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #37: A Guide Pays Off*

_Feels nice to pick up the digital pen again..._ 

Sasha leads the way inside the spire, a piercing glass nail in the coffin of Fallen district. The Irregulars fan out soon after her, Elisa flanks her to her right, greatsword resting against her shoulder. Loki is to her left, the half-giant’s axe held firmly in both hands. Alexandre moves quickly towards a passage extending to her left, his thinblade and dagger drawn, checking it for any threats. Audric, with heavy crossbow held in tow does the same to the right. Dox follows behind, along with Ruel, who holds the group’s everbright lantern high, illuminating the crumpled and fused chamber of rock and glass.

Tension runs high among them. Fallen has an oppressive feel that is palpable, a foul, provocative aura that sets anyone on edge. Sasha has lived in Fallen for three years, she is used to it – the Irregulars are not.

Alexandre flexes his fingers around his dagger, gripping it tightly. He whispers harshly, through gritted teeth, “I hear more voices, more Ravers, get ready!”

“No!” Sasha commands sternly. She strides up to him and gives him a hard look, “Remember your promise. You agreed not to shed blood needlessly.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, she steps into the dark passageway. She is fully aware she is presenting herself as a target, if these are truly mad or hostile Ravers. She doesn’t look back, but the sudden wash of lantern light suggests that at least Ruel has moved behind her. Softly she calls out, “Hello? Is anyone there? Won’t you come out? We are friends.”

She’s certain she hears Alexandre groan from behind her. She resists the urge to turn around and slap him.

“Sa… Sa?” A disheveled face peers out into the corridor. She recognizes it even in the faint lantern light and smiles. “Sa-sa!” The man comes all the way out in the open, but hesitates at the armed bunch of Irregulars behind her.

“It’s okay Crah. They are friendly,” Sasha says gently. Following her initiative, the Irregulars sheath or at least lower their weapons. The man grins and comes up to Sasha and gives her a fierce, friendly hug.

Sasha gently separates him after returning the hug, but holds him by the shoulders. Behind him she can see the other members of his gang, the Nightstalkers peeking out, but none venture any further when taking in the large armed group behind her. “Crah, have you seen any bad gangs inside? We’re looking for a bad gang that stole something they shouldn’t have.”

“Bad gang, yes,” nods eagerly. “Bad men and bad… gone dogs.”

“’Gone dogs?’ Ruel questions suddenly from behind. “What are these ‘gone dogs’?”

Crah looks at the wizard strangely for a moment, then looks back to Sasha. “Here. Then… gone. Gone dogs. Very bad.”

“We’re going to talk to them, okay? Can you show us where they are?” Sasha’s voice is gentle.

“Yes, I show. Come!” Crah grabs her by the arm and urges her down the corridor. She follows, and the Irregulars press into the corridor behind her. As they pass the chamber where the rest of Crah’s gang huddles, they quickly dart away from the Irregulars, afraid. Stoically, the Irregulars pass them by with barely a glance between them.

Crah doesn’t tug Sasha far. “There. Right, then up. Careful Sasa, very bad!” Crah looks wide-eyed at Sasha, imploring her for caution.

Sasha smiles and gently pulls her arm free, “Thank you, Crah. We’ll be very careful. These men and women will protect me.”

Crah looks at the Irregulars, then nods. “Strong gang. Good. I go.” Crah leaves them, skulking back past the rest of the group. Crah and each Irregular give each other as wide a berth as possible in the cramped corridor.

“Sasha, why don’t you let me go first? Whatever is ‘very bad’ up there, I’d like to see it before it sees… or hears us.” Dox squeezes forward, after Crah has left. He barely goes 2 steps before his foot slips into a pile of crushed glass with a loud ‘crunch’. He winces, looking back at Sasha with a self-depreciating shrug. She smiles sympathetically.

Despite his misstep, he continues forward, but not far before coming up to an abrupt stop. After a moment he shakes his head, and then returns to the Irregulars. “Something is… babbling up ahead.”

Elisa sighs, “Babbling!? Are you sure?”

Dox nods quickly, “Yes! I can’t make out what its saying, but it just sounds like really quiet babbling.”

Sasha nods, “Let’s go forward together. Dox, you first. Please.”

Dox leads them forward, one by one they follow after him. They hear the babbling Dox heard, one after the other. Some stop in their tracks to try and pick out the words to it, and only continue when prodded by the person behind them. Sasha observes this with a soft frown, though none of the Irregulars seem to have any ill effects from hearing the disturbing whisper.

They follow the babble to an open doorway, leading to a small room, still mostly intact despite its proximity to the crash site of the glass spire.

“You gonna try and talk to it?” Alexandre smirks at Sasha.

“No,” Sasha responds seriously. “I think this is a mad spirit, we should banish it quickly. I should be able to, if it is what I think.”

“By all means,” Audric agrees immediately.

The Irregulars scramble forward, Dox and Sasha still in the lead. The babbling doesn’t stop, but it does intensify as its source detects their approach.

The babbling creature hovers spectrally a couple feet off the ground in the small room. Its form wavers upwards, as if constantly consumed in a dark figure. Its figure is poorly formed, and only two arms can be distinguished from its torso. It is faceless, but conveys a terrible, insane anger as it focuses on the living creatures approaching it. Wrathfully, it turns upon the one who angers it the most – the cleric of Dol Arrah. Shrieking, it grasps at her, intent on wringing her neck. Its fingers have no strength, and pass harmlessly through Sasha’s armor and skin. Its touch, however, is madness. Sasha reels, paling as the creature assails her very sanity. Her faith, strong as iron, sustains her – yet she feels the strength of her connection to the divine weaken and wither. Her cry is strangled, not from the creature’s insubstantial grip, but from the horror of this terrifying realization.

Tears spring from her eyes, as she grips her holy symbol lying over her rose-embroidered chest plate. With a hoarse voice, she calls out, “Dol Arrah! Bring light to end this madness!” She raises her symbol high and it flares brightly in answer to her cry, a blinding flash of light explodes from the symbol and the creature is thrust back, and then ripped apart by the greater turning. The light from her symbol lingers briefly in her golden hair, illuminating it softly before it fades, along with the maddening babbling.

“What was that?” Loki asks, letting out a heavy, relieved sigh after it disappears.

“It was the spirit of a creature that took its own life, in grief or madness here. It is called an ‘Allip’.” Sasha replies, laying the holy symbol carefully back against her armor. “It is a great mercy that it has been driven away – hopefully it will find a measure of peace now.”

With the Allip gone, the Irregulars search for a way forward. The outside wall of the glass spire blocks further progress, but they discover that there is a narrow passage circling the outside of the glass wall, braced against one of the stone walls. It is a tight fit, especially for Loki, and none of the Irregulars make it through without cuts or abrasions in their clothing and skin. 

First through, Dox sucks on his bleeding little finger. His eyes widen as he realizes the Irregulars have made it through inside the glass tower. Looking down, he is amused to find he is walking on what was built as the ceiling – the glass tower obviously flipped around before hitting the ground. Furniture is scattered across the floor, as well as a very secure looking metal chest. Grinning, his nicked finger is quickly forgotten, “Nice, jackpot!”

Bending over it, he pulls out his tools and inspects it quickly for traps. “No traps, that’s good. The lock is pretty good, but not good enough…” His picks make short work of the lock and it gives with a satisfying click. Pulling off the lock he opens the lid.

Unfortunately, he missed the slender protruding wire between lid and case, which, with equal misfortune, is rigged to a magical device which showers the area around the chest with arcs of electricity!

Dox’s only warning is a sudden thrum and a prickle on his skin, but his reflexes are sharp and take over as soon as he is conscious of the danger. Throwing himself backward he flips head over heels, landing on all fours several feet from the discharging box.

Alexandre whistles, as he emerges from the cramped tunnel, “Nice moves, that looked like it would have hurt.”

Dox laughs, “Probably. Well, I take care of the traps, one way or another!”

Audric shakes his head, “Are you sure it won’t do that again?”

Dox nods, “Oh yes. Well, pretty sure. Most traps don’t go off twice.”

Audric sighs, “You can check and make sure.”

Dox shrugs and steps up to the box, then opens it once again. Sure enough, the trap doesn’t spring again. Still, he disables it – magic can be tricky, and it could recharge in a few minutes. He pulls out a few sheets of paper, “Letters of credit! Think they’re still good?” He hands them to Audric behind him.

Audric considers, and then nods, “They are not made out to anyone in particular. And I don’t believe Kundarak typically has expiration dates for these.” He carefully tucks the bank notes away.

Dox pulls out a small rod, turning it over in his hands a couple time, “Ruel, is this a wand? It looks odd for one.”

Ruel takes the rod from Dox, then shakes his head, “Close. It is a rod. I recognize it, it is attuned to dragonmark magic. Most likely it would affect the strength of a dragonmark ability.”

“Magic rods are worth a lot, aren’t they!” Dox exclaims.

Ruel smiles faintly, “Most are, but this one would not be particularly valuable. It has only a minor effect on the least of dragonmarks. We should hold on to it for now, I think.”

Audric agrees quickly, “Yes. I don’t think we should sell that.” Ruel raises an eyebrow at Audric’s unexpected agreement, but nods and stashes the rod in his belt.

Elisa, bored with the lack of weaponry in the metal chest, walks up to a stairway that leads upwards. She notes that the actual stairs are on the top of the stairway, and there is only a smooth incline to use to ascend. “I think this might be a problem.”

Sasha walks up to Elisa and shakes her head softly, “I cannot climb this.”

Ruel shines the lantern up the stairway and smiles, “It shouldn’t be too bad, with a rope. You think you can hook this, Elisa?” He withdraws a grappling hook and length of rope from his Handy Haversack and hands it to her.

“Hah! No problem!” It takes a couple throws, but Elisa soon hooks the rope at the top of the stairwell. Giving it a couple strong tugs, she decides it is stable enough and using the rope as a hand hold, she walks up the incline with ease.

“Cramped and dark up here guys, but room for everyone. Come on, who’s next?”

Alexandre volunteers, and he is halfway up the stairway when Elisa hears a low growl from behind her. Turning, she sees it is from a dog. Then in an instant it is gone. An instant later it reappears and bites at her, and she just snatches her leg away from it. Then it is gone again.

Drawing her greatsword out she exclaims, “Crap! Gone dogs!”


----------



## Micah

Sweet! It's good to see the storyhour back! 
Just was skimming through the bulk of it and enjoying the past games. I'd forgotten navigating those upside-down stairwells.

I hadn't forgotten the "gone dogs" though or what happened next. As part of the DM team it was a learning experience for us in large group mechanics, topped off by that running in place feeling you get when one of your players does something totally unexpected. . . .

Great update PhoenixAsh!!!


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## toetapper1

*From the mind of Audric*

YEAH!!! Great to see you posting again PhonenixAsh!  We've really enjoyed continuing this game, it takes us to exciting places and fantastic plots lines by our DM's.  It's always so enjoyable to be able to read the posts - it's like enjoying the evenings all over again!   
     Coming from the background Audric does     I remember looking at Sasha and thinking how trusting can a person be?  Walking into a dark passageway and ANNOUNCING that we're here - WHAT?     But her instincts were dead on and Audric was beginning to see how other members of the group would push him out of his cynical thought processes and perhaps trusting other members of the group was possible.  It was a subtle thing in the overall game play but this was the beginning of Audric's shift in thought about Sasha (not as a naive person but a strong minded courageous person who just had more faith in people than Audric)  and also really belonging to a group.
     THANKS PHOENIXASH FOR POSTING!!  I hope others outside of our group start back up reading this thread too - you are a great writer.  And THANKS again to our DM's who have great plot lines and AMAZING world class maps!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update#38: Unexpected Transformation*

Elisa soon finds that no less than three of the ‘gone dogs’ are up where she is. They nip at her and draw blood. Readying her weapon, she slashes one of them, returning the favor. She’s inhibited by the darkness, but using _Mage Hand _ Ruel raises the lantern up to give her light. The swifter Irregulars, Dox and Alexandre scurry up the rope to help her, but in the tight confines they aren’t able to take the fight to the dogs. Spreading out, they weather repeated attacks while the other Irregulars struggle up the stairway more slowly.

This level of the inverted glass spire is a warren of tight passageways, crumpled in places and tricky to navigate. Despite their best attempts to ready spells and attacks against the dogs’ appearance, the Irregulars are unable to defeat them. The dogs are injured, but the Irregulars soon find themselves in worse shape. They eventually give up trying to fight the dogs altogether, and simply press forward, searching for a place where they can properly work as a group, rather than being strung out through the twisting passages. After a grueling minute they make it, and huddle up with weapons ready. Sasha uses her divine magic to cure the worst of their injuries.

In the room they have entered, however, the dogs do not pursue them. After a minute’s pause, they realize they have happened into a safe haven. Relieved, they take stock of the situation – there is another upside-down set of stairs ascending further upwards.

“We may have missed something back in those passages,” Loki points out.

“I’ll be damned if I’m going back in there! What were those things anyways?” Elisa grimaces.

“Blink dogs I believe. ‘Gone dogs’… I should have made the connection,” Ruel muses. “I am surprised they were so hostile.”

“We’ll have to go back through them eventually,” Loki folds his arms.

“But not yet,” Alexandre interjects. “Maybe we can find a way to put those doggies down up there. Come on, Elisa throw the rope!

“I don’t have it! Did anyone remember it?”

“I did,” Ruel says smoothly, producing it for Elisa.

“Good man, holding the light and you remembered the rope! Guess wizards are good for something after all,” she smirks.

Ruel laughs, “Glad you think so.”

Elisa throws the grappling hook and secures the rope up to the next floor. Alexandre is first to climb up this time. When he reaches the top he sees another group of Ravers. They do not notice him, however, as they are paying rapt attention to something that he can’t make out from his vantage point. “More Ravers,” he whispers harshly down towards the rest below.

“Help me up!” Sasha asks urgently, pushing forward. In her full plate, Sasha struggles to get up the stairway, but with Elisa pushing from below and Alexandre helping to pull her up from above she makes it. Most of the rest of the Irregulars follow her up into the cramped space, though Ruel and Loki are left alone below – there is simply no room for them until the others press into the room with the Ravers.

“I’m going to try and reason with them,” Sasha says quietly. “Please try not to aggravate them.”

“All yours missy,” Alexandre smirks.

Taking a deep breath, Sasha emerges into the room. There are a half-dozen Ravers, and all seem alarmed at her presence. They grab makeshift clubs and move aggressively towards her. Quickly she takes in the tattoos on their hands – that of the Stonekeepers. These are the Ravers the Irregulars are looking for.

Sasha speaks quickly, “Please, I mean no harm! May I come in and talk?”

“No!” the lead woman thrusts her arms out in front of her, scowling. “No, go away! Or we make go!”

“Won’t you listen? That can’t hurt, can it? I just want to talk.” Sasha pleads.

The Raver looks closely at her, then at the rest of the Irregulars clustered behind her. “Just you. Come,” she gestures with her hand.

Sasha steps forward, taking in the whole of the room quickly. The room is divided in half by a thick set of opaque glass walls, but from the center of the room she can see its entirety, through a wide opening in the center of the dividing wall. The back corner of the room is full of small, fuzzy pups, watched over by a canine licking an injury to her flank – a mother and her litter. On seeing Sasha the canine looks alarmed, and herds her puppies back out of sight.

Through a wide opening in the central glass wall, she observes a massive, majestic statue – what appears to be an angel. Inside a standing figure, most certainly not a Raver to her experienced eye chants softly. She watches him then pick up the stone arm the Irregulars wish to recover and attach it to where it was broken off of the large statue. As he places it at the shoulder, it mends seamlessly back together. Two more canines, along with one more Raver observe her approach sternly. She feels the collective gaze of the rest of the Ravers on her back, and she get’s the sense that they are not pleased that their fellow Stonekeeper allowed her to pass.

Ruel, meanwhile – finally climbs up to join the rest of the Irregulars, appraising the situation silently.

Sasha subtly intones her prepared _Enthrall _ spell. “I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk to you, become friends. I am looking for something, you can let me inside. It’s okay.” She smiles and the magic takes hold on many of the Stonekeepers. She can still feel the stares behind her turn from hatred to rapt attention, and most of them lower their weapons and watch her, entranced. The one Raver before her furrows his brow. He is unaffected, but does not know what to make of the spell’s effect on his and keeps his place.

The man who repaired the statue is also unaffected, but turns to face her. He is dressed in a garish rainbow of colors, wholly out of place in the grey and black misery of the Fallen spire. “What are you doing here?”

“My name is Sasha, I’ve come to talk to you,” Sasha says, maintaining her _Enthrall _ spell, while doing her best to answer.

“You’re interrupting sacred rites,” the man glowers.

“I apologize,” Sasha replies. “I think that I have a connection with your st… ceremony.”

“Are you ready to take the blood oath?” he asks immediately.

“I think I might, I’d like to know more about it,” she replies, trying to keep him talking. Abruptly a glass shard on the floor flings itself off the floor and shatters against the corner of the wall. Sasha flinches, but cautiously takes a step closer. “Ah… when your worship is over, then…?”

The man stares hard at her, “You are not a follower.”

“If you let me, I can show you! I can show you the connection!” she exclaims.

Another glass shard lifts off the floor and flings itself against a wall. “Sythriel will deal with you shortly… Oh! I’m so glad the college sent you, you came just in time!” the colorful man exclaims incongruently. “I can certainly use your help right now, a piece is missing, can you help me find it?”

Taken aback, Sasha hesitates a moment, “You need help finding the last piece?”

“Yes, of course! Just one piece is missing, see here, look! Just his left eye is missing,” he gestures. Indeed, the left eye of the statue is missing. That’s the only thing. Years of hard labor down to a single piece of stone! I’m so excited!” the man rambles, sounding every bit like a college professor.

“What will you do with the statue once it is complete?” Sasha asks.

“A museum, perhaps a university, oh! Maybe one of the art galleries will pay for it! It’s certainly an exciting piece and I feel it must have a great story and history behind it,” he exclaims.

“I feel that too!” Sasha exclaims. “Ah, I have a friend who is… skilled at understanding these kinds of works of art, can he take a look at it too?”

“Of course,” the man smiles. “We need all the help we can get.”

Sasha’s eyes widen as suddenly the man darts behind the statue, “Mommy! Keep the doggy away! Keep the big doggy away! Nanny! Please keep it away, don’t let it bite me!”

“Ah… well, I’ll protect you!” Sasha casts a wide-eyed look back at the Irregulars, utterly befuddled at how to deal with this man.

“I don’t know, you look pretty scary. I’m not supposed to talk with scary people. I want my Nanny back,” the man utters childishly.

“Do you want me to find her?” Sasha asks gently. Two more glass shards shoot off the floor, hurtling at her this time. The glass strikes her chestplate, shattering startlingly, but harmlessly. Taking a half-step back, she decides she doesn’t want to deal with the man alone anymore. Turning to the enthralled female Raver she says calmly, “My friend wants me to bring my friends here, okay?”

The Stonekeeper nods immediately and steps aside, still beguiled by the cleric. The Irregulars hesitate, but after a moment Ruel slips forward to stand beside Sasha, his eyes glowing under the effects of _Detect Magic_, cast while still clustered with the rest of the Irregulars.

Sasha introduces him while he tries to analyze the magical auras in the room, “This is my friend, he’s going to help.”

Suddenly there is the sound of footsteps crunching on the glass, though there is no visible source to the sound. Around them the Stonekeepers are shaking off the effects of the _Enthrall _ spell as Sasha’s conversation becomes disjointed, though they do not intervene in the conversation between Sasha and Ruel and the man in the colorful clothing.

“What seems to be the problem? Ruel asks him, not unkindly.

The man’s gaze fastens on Ruel, “I demand an explanation for your intrusion, and reparations for the deaths you’ve caused!”

“What do you mean?” Ruel replies, puzzled. Once again two shards of glass lance out, one at Ruel, one at Sasha. The later again shatters harmlessly on the clerics armor, but the former draws blood – cutting his cheek below his left eye. He flinches, then shudders covering his face with both hands. He doubles over, and suddenly changes. His skin smoothes and turns a stony alabaster, his clothing reforms into the simple garments the angelic statue wears, he seems to grow taller by nearly a foot and wings sprout from his back. When he draws his hands away and straightens, his left eye is missing – only an empty socket remaining.

The colorful man draws in a breath, “Sythriel!”


----------



## Micah

This is great timing PhoenixAsh! I just realized that these posts will save me a lot of time in discussing "site history" in our upcoming game.

Some DM background on the session posted:
Colrac Hall in Godsgate was pierced by one of the spires or spinnerets from the Glass Tower when it collapsed. The spire landed upsidedown and it's internal construction was such that several levels survived fairly intact. Most of these levels used to belong to a group of "entreprenuers" who were breeding blink dogs. They also had a training facility in the form of a maze on one of the levels. Some of the dogs survived and Ravers found and befriended the creatures.

It all sounded very unique and a lot of fun. An upsidedown maze with blink dogs. It would be a lot of fun for a smaller party. At the time we had seven PCs navigating the area and it took an entire session to get through the maze. By the end of the evening it felt slowgoing and not very satisfying.

We learned about the advantages of large open combat spaces through that game. * Thankfully our next session started out quickly, the negotiation with the memmelith was fast paced and Ruel's decision to use his _disguise self _ in a rather untraditional way kept us on our toes trying to react.



*Which has produced some really interesting maps including a very spacious bathroom. . . .


----------



## Krafus

I'm afraid I don't remember much of this story due to the extended hiatus, but I must commend PhoenixAsh on the quality of his prose.  And it looks like poor Ruel has just triggered some very nasty magical effect...

Heh heh, as soon as I heard about the "gone dogs," I correctly deduced their nature. However, I have to wonder at the party's wisdom at leaving those foes behind. Even if the blink dogs apparently cannot come into the Reavers' area, if the party needs to backtrack quickly (i.e. with foes on their heels), they'll be in big trouble.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #39: False Idol*

The Stonekeepers, with the exception of the strange, colorful man and the Raver who stands as his personal guard fall prostrate to their knees. The guard backs off as Ruel steps forward slowly – while the colorful man stares with wide eyes. By Ruel, Sasha bows her head slightly, while behind her most of the rest of the Irregulars shift uncomfortably. Alexandre chortles quietly, certain the wizard is playing a trick and entirely amused by the results.

As it turns out, Alexandre is correct.

Ruel, in the guise of Sythriel, reaches into a fold of his new clothing, producing one of his own scrolls. Reciting from it, an image of Ermineth d’Phiarlan’s tower appears in miniature, though still impressive scale, before him. He points at it, making no sound but indicating a desire to go there.

Sasha lifts her head and announces, “The statue wants to go there!”

After a hard look at the statue-guised wizard, the colorful man comes to the same, correct conclusion as the Irregulars, “Blasphemy!” he screams.

The Irregulars vault into the room, easily making it past the prostrate Stonekeeper who is standing beside the door. Dox remains behind, covering the stairwell against any escape. Ruel attempts to regain control of the situation, “It is you who are the blasphemer! Recant and you will be forgiven!” The wizard incants and casts _Charm Person_ on the colorful man. Unknown to him, however, the man is not a normal man but a Memmelith, and wholly immune to the effects of the spell.

The female Raver, mastering her courage after the Irregulars move past her, rises and pulls out a club, smashing it into the armored cleric in front of her. Sasha staggers, but her armor absorbs most of the impact and she is only bruised by the hit. The colorful man’s guardian steps forward to attack as well, but twists his foot awkwardly in the glass and his off-balance strike misses Sasha completely.

Audric glowers as the Ravers start to attack Sasha and taking his longspear thrusts it into one of the prone Ravers near at hand. It bites deep and he screams angrily while yanking the head of the weapon free, “You’ll die for your idol!”

Audric’s angry exclamation provokes the rest of the Stonekeepers into action. They begin to rise and work themselves into a hostile frenzy. Sasha is once again attacked, and once again she is hit, but her heavy armor serves her well against the crude clubs of the Ravers and she weathers the attack unharmed. Despite the violence, none of the Ravers seem able to bring themselves to attack Ruel, still disguised as Sythriel.

The Memmelith chants, invoking bardic music to Inspire Courage to his allies.

The Ravers cluster around Sasha, focusing their attacks on the armored cleric. She weathers several blows, her full-plate serving her well against their makeshift clubs. One strikes her to the side of the head, however, and her head rings painfully with the impact. Elisa and Alexandre maneuver forward to support her, and along with the cleric draw blood from multiple Ravers with their blades and one Stonekeeper falls from his injuries. A blink dog joins the fray and its claws pierce a weakness in her armor at the back of Sasha’s calf, tearing into skin and flesh, then vanishing afterwards. Loki lumbers forward after invoking Vigor for protection, readying his great axe.

Alexandre stabs another Raver rising to join the battle, quickly finding himself beset by foes on all sides. He takes a painful clubbing to the ribs and scowls darkly. Ruel, still in the disguise of Sythriel, pulls another scroll out, seemingly from nowhere and recites from it. A violent clash of colors spews out from the wizard's hands, and two of the Stonekeepers around Alexandre collapse under the colorful cacophony. Alexandre smiles, finding the odds now more to his liking.

Audric plants his spear into the rubble beneath him and using it for leverage, whirls into the air and kicks twice at one of the Stonekeepers, but the man avoids one and blocks the second with his club and is unscathed by the flurry of kicks.

Elisa batters aside an attack from the guardian, but grits her teeth as she feels blink dog teeth sink into the back of her thigh. The Memmelith incants and Elisa feels an odd compulsion to consider him her friend, but under the bloodlust of her rage, shakes it off. Ruel immediately recognizes the spell as _Charm Person_, “Elisa, that man is not your friend!”

“Gee, you think?” she retorts, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m fine!”

Ruel frowns, though it does not translate through his disguise and mutters, “The probability of that is low…”

Alexandre tears into the remaining standing Stonekeeper and his thinblade and dagger both cause shallow injuries to his opponent. The Stonekepper strikes back, battering down his guard and slamming him with his club. Elisa cuts down the Memmelith’s guardian while Loki confronts the blink dogs, striking hard but missing as the blink dog vanishes out from under his strike at the last second. Sasha backs off and casts _Cure Light Wounds_, taking the sting out of the worst of her injuries. Ruel once again tries to put down the Memmelith, but his _Kashandi’s Hideous Laughter_ is once again rendered useless by the strange nature of the Memmelith.

Audric grinds his heel into the throat of one of the color-sprayed Ravers, crushing his windpipe and killing him instantly. “I hate uneducated worshipers of false gods,” he growls.

The blink dogs nibble at Loki, drawing blood – though the half-giant barely notices with his health augmented by his _Vigor_ ability. Loki attacks the canine once more, and once again it blinks out of the way at the last moment. Elisa has better luck, and a blink dog yelps as she tears open its flank with her greatsword.

The Memmelith tries to charm Elisa once again, and once again she shrugs off its effects. Before Ruel can open his mouth she calls out, “I’m still going to kill the bastard Ruel, relax!”

Alexandre presses his attack, continuing to litter the Stonekeeper he is dueling with holes. Sasha Cures the rest of her injuries while Ruel begins a summoning spell. Audric comes to Alexandre’s assistance, and a hard kick sends the Raver sprawling to the ground. “I had him! I had him right where I wanted him!” Alexandre complains, popping a Cure Light Wounds potion to take the edge off of his injuries.

Audric rolls his eyes, “Uh huh.”

Loki is tired of trying to hit the blink dogs. He charges out from between them, wincing as each tear into his legs, but undaunted as he whirls his axe into the Memmelith. The Memmelith gurgles and doubles over as the axe tears through his armor and deep into his rib cage. Loki shakes the axe free and the Memmelith crumples, dead.

As the bard falls, the blink dogs howl then as one abruptly disappear. The Stonekeepers all lie dead or dying.

“Nice, Loki!” Elisa whistles appreciatively at the giant’s decisive attack.

“Nice job guys,” Dox smiles, emerging from the stairway. He moves over to the Memmelith as Ruel casts _Detect Magic_, and together they locate and pry away the man’s valuables, including magic studded leather, four potions and masterwork weaponry.

Alexandre looks over the large statue and cocks an eyebrow, “Uh… how are we going to get this out of here?”

Sasha sighs. The Stonekeepers were at best a very strange group of Ravers, to be treated carefully, but it seemed like there was a real chance of resolving the matter without bloodshed. Still, the Irregulars kept to their word satisfactorily. “If you break it apart I can repair it, with Dol Arrah’s blessing. Not right away, but I’m willing to do so later.”

Ruel smiles, “There’s the solution. Carefully though, we do not want to shatter it if we can avoid it. Try and break the limbs off cleanly!”

The Irregulars have time, and a great deal of brute force in Loki and Elisa, and soon have the bulky statue broken into manageable pieces. All of the Irregulars are obliged to help, but they manage to carry the statue piece by piece down through the spire, back into Fallen, and safely out of the district. When they reach a civilized area of Sharn, they rent a cart and haul the pieces upwards to collect their reward. The hour is quite late when they reach Silvervine, and call upon Ermineth d’Phiarlan – but the elderly elf receives them eagerly.

“You found all of it! Oh this is magnificent, well done. Very well done all of you,” she beams, pouring over all of the contents of the cart.

“We apologize that it is piecemeal, but Miss Larkana will repair it, if you wish,” Ruel says.

“Thank you dear, but that won’t be necessary,” Ermineth smiles at the young cleric. “I will take care of that. You all have done your job, now please enjoy your reward. Oh, and if you come across the missing left eye, there’s another hundred platinum in it for you.” She provides the Irregulars their reward: 500 platinum pieces, more than enough to distract all of them – except for one.

Sasha clears her throat, “Miss d’Phiarlan? What do you intend to do with the statue?”

Ermineth apparises the cleric with a shrewd glance, “Reassemble it my dear, of course.”

“And then?” Sasha folds her arms.

Ermineth smiles, “So, you noticed as well. Yes – it is too well constructed to be ‘just a statue’. But I have no plans for it other than to keep it for my collection, at this time.”

Sasha nods, “They named it ‘Sythriel’. You should know that. I intend to research it and determine its origin. I hope you will not do anything hasty until I have finished.”

Ermineth’s smile doesn’t falter, “That’s very kind of you dear.”

Ruel lifts an eyebrow interjecting, “If I may, I’d like to work with you on that, Sasha.”

***

It nears midnight as Ruel and Sasha walk back towards the Boar’s Head from the theatre, at the conclusion of their date.  Sasha looks skyward and breathes a pleasant sigh. It has been quite some time since she’s felt particularly safe at such a late hour. The trials and dangers of the statue Sythriel feel far away, though in reality they only occurred a day ago. A transition has come to her life with the group of adventures called ‘The Irregulars,’ and now she must weigh the need for a sabbatical against her obligations to Fallen. Her date with Ruel has provided some perspective – a change of pace has felt good.

However, she’s struggled trying to explain faith to Ruel – and has come to the realization that it is a foreign concept to the precise and logical nature of Ruel’s mind. In the end the proof of Dol Arrah’s approval of her is her ability to channel divine magic and positive energy cannot be denied. Ruel must accept this, but still seems to be trying to frame it around the rules and laws of magic that he knows. Their discussion becomes cyclical, then abstract and frustrating.

“Ruel,” she says finally. “Stop trying to think of your dreams as coming from a God. What else could they mean?”

Ruel sighs, “Most likely that I am losing my mind.”

Sasha laughs gently, “I disagree. You aren’t acting like your crazy. You are acting like you’re under a lot of stress. Maybe this is your own way of dealing with it. Possibly this is something magical, or perhaps something else entirely. I think you need to stop trying to frame this as a religious experience.”

Ruel raises his eyebrows, “I did not expect to hear that from you.”

Sasha laughs again, “You expected I would use this to convert you?”

Ruel is still serious, “Frankly… yes.”

Sasha sighs and looks at Ruel seriously, “I want to help you. But all roads do not lead to Dol Arrah. You acted with discretion in Fallen and you seem like a good person – though inconsiderate to a certain bard at times, perhaps. You should try and be nicer to Kashandi.”

“Ah… yes, well… I suppose it would not hurt to try,” Ruel says, flustered.

“Good. Find your own way. Do not follow another path because it is attractive at the moment,” she admonishes him.

Ruel absorbs this for a moment, “Yes, that makes sense. Forgive me for burdening you with this…”

“No, no! It’s alright, I’m happy to help,” she says. “We can talk about this again any time you want. I’ve enjoyed the evening.”

Their conversation is on lighter matters by the time they reach the Boar’s Head Inn. The common room is still active, even in this late hour. Friendly voices filter through the doors as they pause outside of it.

“Where are you staying Sasha? You are on sabbatical now, correct?” Ruel asks.

“There is a bed for me at the church,” she responds, not answering him exactly.

“Why not stay with us?” Ruel asks. “Dox is friendly with the innkeeper here, I am sure we could get you a room at a very good price. Staying at the church sounds very dull!”

Sasha hesitates. Inside the inn laughter once again reaches their ears. Finally she smiles and nods.

“Wonderful!” Ruel grins, opening the door for her. “You should consider joining on with Ravien aboard the _Liralen _with us. It is a great way to see the world, and I am certain he would be eager to have you onboard. All of us would.”

“Oh…” Sasha looks wide-eyed at Ruel. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so!” Ruel nods as they enter the inn. “Can you think of a better way to get a new perspective?”

As they enter the inn, Sasha sees Dox chatting animatedly with the bartender. Noticing them come in he grins at the cleric and wizard and gives them a friendly wave. In a corner she sees Audric sitting with both hands clasped around a steaming earthenware cup. He looks up at her with a clouded look. She offers him a smile and he seems relieved by it, smiling and nodding simply back.

“I can’t,” she answers Ruel’s question, still smiling.


----------



## tmaaas

DM's note: PhoenixAsh really caught me off guard when Ruel took the form of Sythriel. Based on a few die rolls, it wasn't enough to fool/convince the (mostly mad) memmelith. But great ideas should always have some sort of reward. And so Ruel was able to operate from within the middle of a melee and never be attacked. He used this, of course, to great advantage.


----------



## Micah

I do remember that fight. It was supposed to be much harder. 
Between the Ravers and Blink dogs I was supposed to have enough to keep the party busy while the memmelith threw the hard hitting spells in the mix.  Elisa's two consecutive will saves were a bit of a surprise, as was Loki maxxing out a critical hit. Bye Bye BBEG in one hit. :\ 

Due to the difficulties inherent with the play coming into the maze with the blink dogs, tmaaas decided on having them dissappear when the memmelith was killed. There is an evil DM part of me that would have loved to see the party get the statue back out through that mess, but it wouldn't have been fun for the players. When you only play once a month, you don't want to have an entire session that everyone is dreading, just because it will be a tedious waste of time.

Now the group plays much better together than they did then. The Irregulars have been pulling together and planning tactics more often than in those early games. Now I wouldn't hesitate to throw the need for an exit strategy in their path.


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## Ethalias

Phew!  I discovered this SH about a week ago, and it has kept me enthralled!  I'm very glad to see that the extended hiatus has come to an end, I look forward to more posts.  Very inspiring stuff, thanks to all involved.


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## PhoenixAsh

Just a little note for readers new and old:

Thank you for reading.   

This adventure spelled the end of Loki as a PC at our game. For reasons unknown to the group his player has not returned to the gaming table since the session detailed here. Actually, the one prior – I played Loki’s character when he delivered his critical hit (9d6+12 damage – Yikes!) that took down the Memmelith. It was perhaps a fitting final hurrah for Loki.

Tmaaas and Micah did retain Loki as an NPC, so he keeps his position aboard ship and will likely pop in to the storyhour now and then in that regard.

Sasha became the 6th member of our party. So the group composition is now:

Alexandre – Human Fighter/Swashbuckler
Audric – Human Monk
Dox – Changling Rogue
Elisa – Human Fighter/Barbarian
Ruel – Half-Elven Wizard (Enchanter)
Sasha – Half-Elven Cleric of Dol Arrah

Everyone is 3rd level.

I will try and keep the postings frequent and the unexpected hiatuses to a minimum. There is more to be detailed in Sharn, but the Irregulars will hit the open skies once more soon. If they can keep their jobs…


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## Micah

Yeah, that's one of our lessons learned. When you start a gaming group get more contact info than first name, e-mail, and ENWorld moniker. Things like phone numbers and last names are important. :\

The current group now is pretty steady. I have high hopes that we'll be gaming together for a long long time.


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #40: Steel Rose*

_Most of this update should be credited to Micah, as it was taken largely from between-session emails sent from her to myself and Sasha's player (LadyMoon)._

***

Ruel shields his eyes from the glare of the sun off the white marble and gold gilding of the temple rising above him. Dol Arrah; part of the Sovereign Host, Goddess of the Sun, giver of life - he mentally calls up the factual data he knows about the religion. The list of facts is quite extensive. But then Ruel is a wizard, a master of the arcane, his mind is brimming with facts. Facts that don’t dispel his sudden case of nerves in the slightest.

His companion does not suffer from nervousness. The sun glints off of her golden hair and shining plate armor, catching in the details of the engraved roses that course up the gauntlets, greaves, and chestplate. It’s an odd combination of beauty and strength that represents the character of the woman who wears it well. 

The glaring sun is mercifully blocked as they enter under the great marble entrance. Ruel’s eyes take a few minutes to adjust to the darker interior. A mosaic shifts in the shadows, scales and luminous eyes focusing into a portrait of the host. Soft, melodious chanting drifts from the front of the church. A figure in white and gold robes waits at the altar. Ruel swallows as an uncomfortably heavy feeling of commitment and promise descends on him. The effect of the feeling is complete with the jelly-like state of his knees.

Sasha Larkana, now steps ahead of him, turns and smiles. It’s a dazzling sight and he realizes that along with commitment there is also a deep sense of peace and joy in his surroundings.

“Come on let’s go, I want you to meet Iefan,” her hand reaches out and grabs his. Leg muscles trained in dance move of their own accord.

“What was I thinking?” Ruel murmurs quietly, shaking his head. His eyes water slightly and the temple shifts into a more solid reality. The host stares out of the mosaic and the figure by the altar is leading a group of students in a catechism.

_What is Faith?

To hear with my heart
To see with my soul
To be guided by a hand I cannot hold
This is the substance of faith.

What is Radiance?

Light that blinds
Light that burns
Light giving sight to those who can’t see
That is the substance of radiance.

What is Sanctification?

The heart seared 
The soul blinded
To have faith tried by radiance
That is the substance of sanctification._

Sasha nods at the robed figure, “Arch-bishop Vallant. He always leads the novitiates in their first catechisms. I’ve always thought that was interesting for such a busy, powerful man to take time out to do that.”  

Ruel follows his companion as she heads through a maze of meeting rooms, hallways, and offices. She knocks at a non-descript door and when it opens she immediately hugs the elderly man beyond it in an enthusiastic embrace of greeting. “Iefan! It’s good to see you!”

The priest laughs, the rich sound of a man who understands joy. “It is good to see you too, child.” His eyes scan over the entertainer standing beyond his protégé. “What brings you here?” There is the slightest lift of a silvered eyebrow, though his voice remains warm and happy.

The cleric steps back from the priest, “I am going to take your advice.” For a moment her voice is heavy, tinged with regret, “New paths have opened for me, I will leave Blackstone in the care of whomever you choose.”

The priest studies the eyes of the young woman before him. He nods eventually. “There will always be a place here for you, but for now I believe in my heart that a sabbatical is wise. Blackstone is an oppressive place. It’s not my choice that any clerics should have to begin there. Tell me about this new path.” Iefan glances appraisingly at Ruel.

The golden haired cleric laughs. “This is Ruel, he is the wizard aboard the airship that I told you about.”

The morning passes swiftly for Sasha and Iefan, slowly for Ruel. He senses the unspoken bonds between the two others in the study. He also is aware that he is being weighed silently in all of his responses and gestures. Iefan has an aura of assessment that is almost tangible. Disconcertingly, Ruel cannot tell where he is falling with the man that Sasha looks to as a father.

“We need to do some research on the name Sythriel – I think it may be Celestial, have you any suggestions as to where we should start?” Sasha asks finally.

“The Athenaeum would have the most likelihood of containing that type of information. Talk to Bishop Caedlyn – she knows that place like few others.” Iefan looks at Ruel. “It is closed to all but those in service to the Host. Sahsa can go there and I can show you around the library here. The tomes aren’t as extensive in some areas, but it is a decent library for the laity, perhaps the Sovereign will guide our efforts. One never knows where the search for an answer will be met. And I have a feeling that this young man is no stranger to books, so perhaps we’ll have the edge yet?” Iefan grins, teasing the plate clad cleric, who rises to leave. 

Sasha rises, laughing casually at the joke, “We can compare notes later, Ruel.” The wizard is highly aware of the click of the door, leaving him alone with Iefan.

The older priest looks at the young man before him. He’s seen beyond the gaudy entertainer’s garb. Throughout the morning he’s let his senses surround the man, much as he did Sion a few days before. Oddly enough he feels a sense of comfort about the half-elf in spite of the shadows that swirl about him. There is a core of power that has not yet been discovered deep within the wizard. Iefan muses, comparing Ruel once more against the paladin who will now be taking Sasha’s place at Blackstone. Sion is also very powerful - power though has its dangers. Iefan tries to push aside the discomfort he feels at placing another priest at Blackstone. He looks up at Ruel and concentrates on the young man.

“If you hurt her I will be sorely tested in my oath against vengeance,” it would be a threat except that the priest is laughing silently, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He senses Ruel’s sudden tension at the words. “Don’t worry son – it’s no more than any father would tell you about their daughter. It is good to see her this way. Young, loving life again. No one should have had to carry the weight she has had to. I am glad that she will be with the airship, away from here for a while. Take care of her, please.” Iefan looks at Ruel and shifts the conversation before the wizard has a chance to answer. “And now it’s off to the books. . .  ” 

***

It has been a long day, Iefan Conwys settles at his desk. Goodbyes have been said to one of his students. Sasha has been very dear to him and he will miss her more than he really wants to admit. He has many weighty decisions ahead of him. But this one at least has been much easier than he had thought it would be. His fingers run over the fine parchment and heavy wax seal. A request for a cleric of some abilities, that was not unusual – he was in charge of clerical assignments. This request had come in with the morning courier. He had finished reading it right before Sasha had knocked on his door. Grateful that the Sovereign had directed with clarity in a decision that would have been hard for him, Iefan lays the document down. The seal is that of House Lyrandar. The request is signed by one Lord Ravien, owner of the _Liralen_.

***

Ruel and Sasha’s research extends throughout the rest of the Irregular’s layover in Sharn – for the information they seek proves to be quite elusive. Though they collaborate on their plans and trade notes in the evenings over meals, they act independently – each in the places of knowledge in Sharn they are most comfortable with.

Ruel doesn’t spend a long time in the church archives, but instead visits Morgrave University.  Inside the Great Hall of Aureon he soon attracts a small crowd of academics with polite inquiry and a rather impressive _Silent Image_ of the statue.

“If your depiction is accurate, that is one impressive piece of sculpture,” one announces. “Have you considered that it might be a living creature turned to stone?”

“Yes, I-“ Ruel answers, but is interrupted by a mousey gnome in spectacles. “It is a celestial being, certainly it is an angel!”

“It could be half-celestial,” an older professor interrupts. “Note the lack of wings.”

“They may simply be missing from the statue,” she argues. “Was there any sign of a trumpet or a lantern being held by the statue?”

“Ahh… no,” Ruel answers.

“I don’t think they were broken off, I think it was constructed this way. You can tell by the way the stone was shaped on the back. It looks scarred, like the wings were ripped off in life,” a dwarf announces, from the back of Ruel’s projected image.

“Why would its wings be ripped off?” the mousey woman counters.

“I’m sure I don’t know! Ask a priest!” the dwarf glowers, stomping a foot and leaving.

“Good advice,” the older professor smiles and walks on about his business. The gnome stares hard at the illusion before leaving without further comment. Ruel dismisses the illusion with a sigh and turns to leave, but is confronted by a middle-aged human in leather armor and dark, unobtrusive clothing.

“It’s a living creature, you know that don’t you?” Ruel recognizes the voice as the first who suggested the idea among the academics.

“That is a possibility,” Ruel responds, moving towards the exit. The man follows alongside him.

“Where is the statue now? It’d be helpful to take a direct look,” he suggests.

Ruel doesn’t trust the man, but keeps his expression ambiguous, “A private collection.”

“Where did you say you found it?” the man presses.

“Fallen,” Ruel replies curtly. The man stops following Ruel as he exits the hall, but the wizard feels the man’s eyes on his back until he turns a corner.

***

Sasha sits down in a cramped office in the Athenaeum – the church archives for the Soverign Host. Bishop Caedlyn has finished research started at Sasha’s request, and they are meeting to discuss the results.

“The etymology of the word is Celestial in origin, as you suspected,” the archivist responds after a moment to frame her thoughts. “It can mean bearer of light or in some cases bearer of the covenant. Historically, when a bearer of the covenant appears it is to herald a new covenant. Thought that is a matter of debate - a ‘new covenant’,” she smiles, bemused. “You will find traditionalists who entirely discount the idea along with others who would call each covenant a new chapter in the way we relate with the divine.”

Sasha looks surprised, “The Host has sent such angels?”

The archivist sighs, “Very rarely. The records I am referencing are quite ancient. In all cases they focus far more on the message then the messenger. There is a great deal of ambiguity on the nature of the messenger.”

“I see,” Sasha considers.

“Of course, ‘bearer of light’ may reference a specific order of angels. This would quite different than ‘bearer of the covenant’. This order of angels is looked to for divine assistance in times of trouble or distress,” the archivist continues.

“Is there a way to tell the difference, which it may actually be?” Sasha asks.

“No. Not without some context to frame the distinction,” the archivist answers. “That is all I can really tell you.”

“I see,” Sasha sighs. “Thank you, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

***

“What you are describing is cult worship.”

Ruel looks to the curator of the Dezina Museum of Antiquities. The pair walk through the darkened hall of the museum, as the museum is near closing. Only a few straggling patrons continue to linger, attempting to cram as much sight-seeing into the day as possible.

“It does have similarities to cult worship,” Ruel agrees..

“What sort of creature were they worshiping?” the curator asks.

“It was a statue, actually. By appearance, a wingless celestial being,” the wizard answers.

The curator stops and looks at the wizard. “Huh. Haven’t heard of a non-living object being the worship focus. Still, it’s a cult.” He continues walking, “Go back sixty years in this very city, there was a cult led by a figure known as ‘The Radiant One’. Got pretty large, started worrying the religious authorities and city council after a hundred or so poor souls ended up dead in a warehouse in the cogs, converted to a temple. Over a thousand were never seen again. No trace of the missing, no obvious cause of death among the dead. There was another cult center in Thrane, and the Silver Flame missionaries had a hard time with that one. There was a protracted siege, something of a holy war, and it took a lot of the Flame’s better soldiers, arcanists and clerics to destroy it. There are similar examples throughout history, going back 200, 500, 1600 years, or more.”

“That is concerning,” Ruel says.

“Damn right. Sounds like you nipped this thing in the bud. Good job,” the curator nods.

“What did this ‘Radiant One’ look like?” Ruel asks.

“So far as I know, no one’s ever seen him. Except maybe the dead people, or the missing. Can’t exactly ask them though,” the curator replies. He opens a side door for the wizard “I’ve got to close up here.”

“Thank you for your help,” Ruel nods, leaving through the held door.

***

Sasha walks the art gallery of the Citadel of the Sun. Though the works here have been a pleasure to observe, nothing has proved to be illuminating in her search. It is nearing dusk and she should leave if she is to meet Ruel for dinner. As her thoughts wander, however, her eye is caught by a painting she had missed before. She gasps involuntarily as she takes it in.

It is a painting of an angelic being. The background is dark and oppressive and the perspective seems to be looking down on the central figure that is kneeling. An angelic creature slumps over two beautiful white wings torn from their sockets, blood covering their bases. Blood also drenches the figure’s back and it seems obvious that the wings are its own. The posture suggests great grief, and what might be tears glisten on the back of an exquisitely formed hand. The title of the painting is ‘The Price of Your Own Way’.

A young priest observes Sasha’s reaction and approaches her, “Are you shocked by the painting or drawn to it? It seems a harsh punishment, to me. The artist worked from ancient prints where it suggested that Angels who fell from grace were punished by a curse to never fly again. I never thought of it so graphically until this came in – I suppose I figured they would be bound to walk the land, not that their wings would physically be ripped off.”

Both priests look at the painted canvas for a moment before the man continues, “Most of the older priests say that it is here to generate a reaction and that it isn’t an accurate depiction of doctrine. I think they want to convey the importance of following Sovereign command. Honestly, I mostly feel sorrow for the angel in the picture. It’s a bloody piece of work.”

“Please,” Sasha asks, tearing her eyes from the picture and looking at the man. “Do you know the name of the artist? Is he living or deceased?”

“Alive. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” the man scribbles the name on a piece of paper and hands it to Sasha.

Sasha snatches it and nods, “Thank you. Forgive me, but I need to go.” She walks quickly from the gallery.

***

Ermineth d’Phiarlan is surprised to see Ruel Dunnanne and Sasha Larkana at her home not more than a week after they recovered the Sythriel statue for her, “Good morning, do either of you care for refreshment? Some tea? Have you two found the left eye for me?” She smiles pleasantly, gesturing to a comfortable loveseat as she seats herself in a cushioned rocking chair.

“Forgive us Erma, but no we are in a bit of a hurry. We haven’t found the eye, but we have learned some facts about the statue we thought we should share,” Ruel takes the offered seat.

Sasha sits, but keeps her back straight, not allowing herself to lean back into the comfortable couch. She wears her full-plate and her expression is serous, giving her a hard look in the pale morning light, “Miss d’Phiarlan, I would appreciate it if you allow ecclesial scholars to examine the statue.”

Ermineth smiles mildly, “I prefer Erma, dear. No need to be so formal. Now why do you say that?”

Sasha remains serious, “I believe the statue may have considerable importance. It may have serious implications to the way in which we relate to the Host. It may also be extremely dangerous.”

Ruel chimes in, “I spoke to some experts on the matter myself, Erma. It could be tied to some very deadly cult activity from sixty years ago.”

Ermineth evinces a measure of surprise, “The Radiant One incident?”

Ruel nods, “The very same. It may be wise to consult the church and civil authorities in regards to this statue.”

Ermineth sighs, “Ahh… but then surely they will want to take the statue away from me, won’t they? I do believe I paid you very handsomely for the statue. You are the adventurous sort - I am not under the illusion that the money hasn’t been spent. I am not so rich that I can throw money away like that.”

Sasha frowns, “Miss d’Phiarlan, this is very serious.”

“I will take your warning very seriously, Miss Larkana,” Ermineth replies, her tone even, though tinged with iron. “However, I will also deal with Sythriel here how I see fit. I am afraid that must be the end of that discussion.”

A moment of tense silence reigns. Finally Ruel clears his throat and rises, “That is the only reason we stopped by. Again, forgive me, but we are in a great hurry.”

“Of course Ruel, I am not offended in the least.” Ermineth closes here eyes and leans back in her chair, rocking slightly. “Give my best to Ravien, you’ll make a good addition to the crew Miss Larkana.”

Neither Ruel nor the standing Sasha can hide their surprise that Ermineth knows who they are meeting with and why. Ermineth does not appear to notice their reaction. The pair depart in silence.

***

Sasha stews silently while Ruel hails down a skycoach to catch them up with the rest of the Irregulars. Finally she announces, “I don’t trust that woman Ruel.”

“Her dealings with us have been fair, so far,” Ruel replies.

“Maybe. But she has her eyes on us. You particularly,” Sasha says.

Ruel doesn’t answer, focusing on hailing down one of the sky coaches whizzing by.

“Mark my words. One day she is going to ask you to compromise yourself, and possibly the rest of us as well. You had better be prepared to recognize that day when it comes.”


----------



## Micah

I believe that original post was another April 1st piece. A bit of teasing since PhoenixAsh not only was bringing his girlfriend into the game, but the two of them were playing characters that had romantic inclinations.

Interestingly enough the key piece that stirred up trouble, wasn't the description of the temple with heavy marital overtones, but the description of Sasha's armor with the engraved roses.  

Over the last year of play I've had to look this piece of writting up more than any other to that date in my game file, which goes to proove that even a joke can become an integral part of the game.


On another note, I am quite thankful for this write-up as it has helped refresh my memory. It's always nice to be able to pick up open plot hooks from the past and expand on them.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #41: A Broken Airship and a Missing Deckhand*

_This game session was a bit unique for us. First off only Sasha’s player, Alexandre’s player, Dox’s player and I made it to the session - and Dox’s player was late. Thankfully (for the DMs) their absence could be explained by the circumstances of the adventure. The first half of the session we spent individually tracking down errant members of the crew. We record each session and I usually transcribe these updates from those recordings, but this particular session was difficult as we had 3 players pretty much constantly doing individual searches around Sharn with our 2 DMs. Special thanks to Tmaaas and Alexandre’s player for transcribing their part and making the below update easier to write.

In any event, the first half of the session (and the next couple updates) will be rather action light – and heavy on detail of our escapades running around the city. However, finding these members of the crew turned out to be extremely important later on.

Don't worry though, the second half of the session saw the situation getting more violent…_

***

Ruel and Sasha catch up with the rest of the Irregulars before the appointed time of their meeting with Ravien d’Lyrandar, but the whole of the group is made to wait in a sparse waiting room outside of his office in the Lyrandar tower. The sharp-eared among the group overhear him conversing with a woman.

“Ashaya, what business brings you here?”

“Nothing but gloating my dear Ravien, nothing but pure unadulterated gloating.”

“You’ve heard about the _Liralen _ then,” Ravien’s statement is not a question and his tone is iron cold.

“The _Liralen_? Oh my no! Is there news about your precious little airship,” Ashaya’s tone drips with mockery.

“Ashaya, I haven’t the time to play games with you. If your sole purpose in coming here is to gloat about the rumors, I’ll give you the privilege of hearing it from me. My ship is crippled. There you’ve had your fun, now will you please leave me to my work?” Ravien’s voice sounds tired and worn.

Ashaya is all business in her reply. The abrupt shift is somewhat disconcerting, “The _Liralen _ is crippled. How?”

“I owe you no explanation of that Ashaya, you’ve been at cross purposes with me for some time now. One could hardly expect me to be forth-coming with information to a rival in the House,” Ravien answers carefully.

“True, nothing is owed on my account, but you will tell me or I will find out another way. What is your preference there? I do have an active interest in the construction of elemental bound crafts, perhaps I could come up with a possible solution for you.”

It is very quiet in the room – as if Ravien is weighing Ashaya’s words for truth or sincerity. Eventually the Irregulars hear his reply.

“The ship was a new design, easily three times larger than any airship yet constructed. Its size was supposed to be compensated for with a new process of elemental binding. The result lasted for a short time. But now it becomes clear that even an augmented helm of wind and water is not adequate to maintain the control necessary to fly the ship. She can still be made airborne, but at a fraction of her previous speed. I need not tell you how that will affect the future of the ship. Specifically the finances that she could have been capable of bringing in that are now out of reach.”

“You find yourself in a dilemma Ravien. Sell out to me – I can easily recoup your loss in her construction,” Ashaya offers.

“And exactly what would you do with the _Liralen_?” Ravien sounds genuinely surprised by the offer.

“Oh I have ideas, perhaps I could fix her… hire a new crew… make the ship a profitable and proper Lyrandar vessel,” she muses.

“The _Liralen’s _ crew is one of her best assets Ashaya,” Ravien now simply sounds annoyed.

“Oh yes your hand-picked crew!” Ashaya laughs nastily, “You know there are some things we never will agree on don’t you.”

“Yes Ashaya – I do realize that. Just as much as you know I’d never sell out to you.”

“Oh well. On to the technical discussion then. Your helm of wind and water is augmented by Khyber shards. Is it not?” Ashaya’s tone changes like the wind.

“Yes, the most powerful currently available to the House.”

“Ah, yes, but not the most powerful ever available to the House,” There is a silent period again and the Irregulars are at a loss for what is happening. When Ravien’s voice returns it is much lower and they catch hints of awe, “The wreck of the _Galivant_…Where did you get this map?”

“From someone who has assured me that there is no other map like it,” Ashaya replies smugly.

“It could be a scam. Many know how ardently we’ve sought to recover the _Galivant_,” Ravien cautions, but his awe is tinged with clear desire.

“Ravien, when was the last time I fell for a ruse?”

“How much do you want for the map?”

“It’s not for sale. As I told you earlier, I merely came by to gloat,” she lilts.

Ashaya exits the dead quiet office with a barely contained look of amusement on her features, throwing the Irregulars a callous glance before departing the waiting room entirely. The Irregulars collectively note a dragonmark openly displayed on her back – a Greater Mark of Storm.

Ravien appears at the door a moment later, and his visage matches his prior tone of voice – worn and tired. He beckons the Irregulars inside, “I apologize for the wait.”

As they all sit down, his eyes briefly flash to Sasha, the only newcomer among them. But he only shakes his head, “I regret to inform you that I will be releasing you all from my employment.”

“We… overheard some of your conversation,” Audric advises. His face is still a picture of disappointment, a rare display of emotion from the monk.

“Well, that will make things quicker. The fact is the Lyrandar’s design has failed, and it will no longer function in the capacity I had envisioned for it. The same capacity by which I had envisioned all of you providing your services,” Ravien admits.

Alexandre looks hard at Ravien. “What was Ashaya talkin’ about? I thought I heard her say something about a ‘Wreck of the _Galivant_?’”

Ravien looks at his deckhand, “Yes… I’m embarrassed that you heard that. I do not care for the woman, but I admit I would pay a lot for the map-“

“That’s not what I meant,” Alexandre interrupts curtly. “Tell me this – there’s somethin’ on the _Galivant _ that would let the _Liralen _ fly proper again. S’that right?”

“In theory… yes. The _Galivant _ contained the greatest Wheel of Wind and Water ever installed aboard a Lyrandar airship. It should be able to handle the elementals bound on the _Liralen_,” Ravien indulges Alexandre’s curiosity patiently.

“So you need a map, aye?” Alexandre grins suddenly.

“Where are you going with this Alexandre?” Ravien’s voice reflects that his patience is ebbing.

Alexandre leans back, continuing to grin. He pulls his ratty backpack up into his lap and roots through it, pulling out a weathered map case. Twisting it open, he rises and unrolls the leathery contents in front of Ravien. The half-elf studies the map only briefly before rising abruptly to his feet.

“The map!” Ravien moves swiftly to the door, peers outside of it, then shuts it and locks it. Coming back around the table he takes a second look at Alexandre’s map, and then looks up at the man. “This could save her! This could save the _Liralen_!”

“Aye,” Alexandre smirks. “How much is it worth to ya?”

Audric glowers at Alexandre, “’Xander…”

Ravien looks down, “A lot, I’m sure you overheard that much. If I am to make the _Liralen _ ready to fly however…”

“Ah, I’m just kiddin’ ya. So long as we all get her jobs back. Oh, and give her a fair shake at a job onboard. She’s alright,” he jerks a thumb at Sasha.

“Yes, that I can do,” Ravien smiles, nodding at Sasha. He relaxes for a moment in his chair, hope seeming to give him new life. He then looks shrewdly at the Irregulars. “We have to move quickly. Ashaya will be after the _Galivant _ quickly. I’ll need all of your help, to prepare the ship and recover the crew, you see you were the last to be dismissed...”

***

The Irregulars are divided. Dox, Audric and Elisa are enlisted to help prepare the _Liralen _ for departure. Alexandre, Ruel, and the newest member of the crew – Sasha are tasked with finding much of the crew, who have scattered across Sharn. They have a day to try and make this happen.

Ruel holds a list of the missing provided by Ravien, with notes on their location scribbled quickly beside them:

-First mate: Aloysius
-Bo’sun: Fendrik – Rooming at Lyrandar Towers Room #1890
-Cabin Boy: Errol – Rooming at Lyrandar Towers Room #1892
-Cook: Meat - applied for kitchen help wanted at the Rowdy Tankard.
-Undercook: 42NATO – Last seen looking at a news clipping detailing Sharn’s fine dining scene
-Scullery: Cynde d’Lyrandar – 1476 Skyview Tower
-Deckhand: Redbeard
-Scribe: Oliver d’Sivis - Sivis Sending Stone @ Sivis enclave Box 57893 , Mail picked up daily at 5pm, 671 Sivis Enclave Apartment #18, Dragon Towers  district, Middle Central
-Healer: Vijaya d’ Jorasco
-Healer’s Apprentice: Grelyn d’ Jorasco
(Vijaya was attending some healer’s conferences at Morgrave University )
-Entertainer: Kashandi Navoestra - last overheard saying she needed to find a job.
-Guard: Kyrjet d‘Lyrandar - Sea Ray Tower #333, Sunrise  district, Tavick’s Landing
-Guard: Tamblyn d’Lyrandar - Crumbledown Tower #5, Longstairs district, Lower Northedge
- Griffin Rider: Maddy Tregear - Can be contacted by reaching: Lt. Brandon Tregar
Daggerwatch Garrison, Upper Dura
-Griffin Rider: Gemma d’Lyrandar - Stormwind Keep, Oak Towers , Upper Northedge

“Ah hell, this is impossible!” Alexandre spits, after a quick glance at the list.

“Nonsense,” Ruel considers the list thoughtfully. “We just need to whittle this down a bit. Now – Fendrik and Errol are in this very building, I will simply speak to them directly. Ravien told us not to worry about Aloysius. Oliver, Cynde, Kyrjet, Tamblyn, Maddy and Gemma all have left mailing addresses. I will have letters sent via courier. That just leaves Meat, Fortunato, Redbeard, the Jorascos and Kashandi. Now, we do not need to find Meat. Fortunato was a better cook anyways…”

“That’s for damn sure,” Alexandre agrees.

“Entertainment is a low priority for this mission, so we need not find Kashandi…” Ruel continues.

“Ruel!” Sasha admonishes sternly. “We are not leaving behind Kashandi.”

“Ahh…” Ruel looks flustered, but then smiles. “Right, we should do our best to find her. Alexandre, why don’t you try and find Redbeard. He was a deckhand like you, you probably know him best.”

“Right, good as done!” Alexandre grins.

“I will look for Fortunato,” Sasha says.

“Good,” Ruel nods. I will send these messages and then look for the Jorascos.”

“And after that, you will find Kashandi,” Sasha looks hard at the wizard.

“Of course!”

***

The hot sun beats down on the dome of Lyrander Tower, making the deckhand squint as he contemplates his task – finding his fellow deckhand Redbeard. Ruel’s logic made a certain sense. He did work with the man, more than anyone else. However, as Alexandre thinks over his conversations with Redbeard he grimaces – beginning to realize they were pretty one-sided. Really, all he knows about Redbeard is that the man likes to keep to himself.

“Great!” he complains sourly to himself. “Fantastic.” Turning around abruptly, he turns back in to Lyrandar Tower, deciding to ask around if Redbeard had anyone that he talked to among the crew that are still near at hand. Unfortunately, no one knows any more about Redbeard than he does.

“Why don’t you ask the captain who hired him on?” A half-elven sailor asks archly. “That’s who ought to know the man best.”

“Ravien,” Alexandre rubs his chin thoughtfully and nods. “Good idea mate, thanks!”

Alexandre strides purposefully towards the meeting rooms and offices from the crew lodgings. On the way he crosses a short sky-bridge and sees One-Eyed Jack at the Guide Booth beneath him – his old friend who helped him and the rest of the Irregulars before when they arrived in Sharn. “Hey! Jack! Wait around!” He points at the man meaningfully.

One-Eyed Jack gives him a strange look, but as Alexandre enters the office area he can hear Jack holler back, “Make it worth my wait!” 

Alexandre has to dodge around scurrying office workers once inside, rushing frantically to fulfill rushed business orders. It would appear the _Liralen’s _ unscheduled departure is putting a strain on house resources. He grabs the arm of one of the workers, who nearly scowls at the interruption, “Can I help you?”

“I need to talk to Ravien,” Alexandre says seriously.

“He’s busy at the moment,” the worker replies tersely. “It’ll be at least an hour before he’s available, if you care to wait.” She jerks her gaze over at a row of a few chairs against a wall and then pulls free.

Alexandre grumbles as he goes over to the chairs. Before he sits he thinks better of it – he doesn’t have an hour to waste. He goes back outside and finds Jack. “Alright Jack, We’ve got work to do!”

“Aye?” Jack squints at Alexandre.

“Aye! I’ve got a man that needs finding, somewhere in Sharn. Which means I need a guide, and you’re the best in Sharn, right?”

“Aye,” Jack smiles.

Alexandre claps Jack on the back, “Good man! Let’s see. If I just got fired, what would I do?” Thinking a moment, he snaps his fingers, “Hey let’s go see if any of the other ships are hiring on!”

Jack and Alexandre spend a few minutes chatting with the crews of the two other airships berthed at Lyrandar Tower, but neither are hiring deckhands – and no one has seen a man with a red beard asking for a job.

“That’s okay,” Alexandre concludes. “Redbeard could have joined on with a sailing ship. Jack, where would you go if you were a sailor trying to hire on?”

Jack is silent.

“Hey you’re a sailor! You should know this! What happened to the guy that knows Sharn like the back of his hand?” 
Jack jingles his coin purse meaningfully. “Well that information is for paying customers. Aye, I’ve gotta make me livin’ somehow.” He says almost apologetically. 
Alexandre just laughs and hauls out five gold pieces and slaps them in Jack’s hand. The man’s one good eye gleams, “Off we go, n’ how fast be you wantin’ to find this bloke?”

“Fast!” replies Alexandre

“How fast?” challenges Jack

“Money is no object!”

Jack gets a gleeful gleam in his eye and trots off towards the air coaches, motioning Alexandre to follow. He heads towards the most dilapidated, patched together coach Alexandre has ever seen. Its driver is snoring under a copy of the Sharn Inquisitive.

“Hey wake up Crazy Man, I’ve got you a job! My friend ‘Xander here wants a fast ride down to Ships Towers – what’s it gonna cost?”

The pilot slowly pulls down the paper from across his face and rubs his eyes. Without looking at Jack or Alexandre he throws out a hand at them. “Fifteen gold.”

Alexandre provides the demanded fee.

“Get in, hold on and if you’ve gotta stow your stomach contents, do it out the window,” Crazy Man advises. No sooner are they inside than the sky coach sidles over to the platform edge, then the driver lets it plummet in freefall. Skimming the surface of the great towers, dodging oncoming vessels and coaches, and recklessly snarling traffic with the spectacle of his wild descent, it heads towards the dock district with two ecstatically hooting men in the back seat.

When they arrive at Ships Tower (in record time), it costs Alexandre five more gold to retain the driver there for them. Alexandre and Jack ask around, checking out every lead they can find about any sailing ship hiring on deckhands, but can’t find any leads to the whereabouts of Redbeard. When they return, they find Crazy Man agitated at the wait, despite the lavish retainer Alexandre provided. When the two men hop back in, Crazy Man curses and mutters at other sky coaches, but he still get’s them to the next docks district – Sharn’s Welcome – in record time and with an abundance of harrowing maneuvers.

When they disembark Crazy Man holds up a hand to forestall further gold to keep him on retainer, “Keep your business to twenty minutes or less and I’ll stay. I don’t want to be grounded longer than that.”

Alexandre raises an eyebrow, and he and Jack do as much searching as they can in the limited time span. Alexandre eventually takes to asking random passersby if they’ve seen a man with a red beard. The answers are, unsurprisingly, no. 

Jack elbows Alexandre, “Time’s up, we gotta get back.”

Alexandre grins, “Hey I think I’m getting better at getting information off of complete strangers!”

“Too bad the information is all ‘Nope, not seen him here.’” mutters Jack.

“Yeah well I think I’m starting to come to the conclusion that Red Beard didn’t come here. It’s kinda hard to pick up a trail when there never was one. How do you go about finding folks in this place?” 

“Well you could always hit up an inquisitive at one of the Finders Guilds,” Jack offers.

“Inquisitors. I like the sound of that, tell me about them,” Alexandre smirks.

“House Tharashyk, who else?” Jack snorts. “Good as any at finding whoever you want, here or anywhere.”

“What are we waiting for?” Alexandre grins.

The pair return to Crazy Man who whisks them off to Dragon Towers. When they arrive, Crazy Man stretches his copy of the Inquisitor over his eyes and almost immediately starts snoring loudly.

“Guess he’ll wait for us,” Alexandre laughs as the pair disembark and head in to the House Tharashyk inquisitor offices. The duo is treated cordially and professionally when they arrive, and give a description of Redbeard. After a battery of questions (most of which Alexandre is forced to answer with ‘I don’t know’ to), the Tharashyk investigator summarizes, “So you want us to find a tall red bearded sailor, goes by the name Red Beard or at least used to. Last seen at Lyrandar Towers wearing a uniform of the airship _Liralen_. No ther information regarding relatives or interests. Well you know that’s not a lot to go on. This will probably take several weeks – if we can find him at all.”

Alexandre shakes his head and sighs deeply, “I really need to find him by tomorrow.”

“Well,” the man slides a parchment in front of Alexandre with a list of the House’s services and their costs. “There are other ways we could go about this. _Discern Location _ is probably your best bet. You could also try _Discern Creature_, which is a little more risky, but if you have a solid idea on which district he might be in, it’s an option.”

Alexandre looks over the list and the prices and nearly chokes, but covers it with a soft chuckle, “How much for just a normal inquisitive?”

“One gold a day, plus five gold to cover any unforeseen expenses,” the man replies without a hint of reproach.

“Alright, I’ll hire a day’s worth,” Alexandre shells out six more gold pieces for the service. After filling out some more paperwork he and Jack shuffle back outside. “Jack – I need a place to think. A place with good food and better brew.”

Jack grins appreciatively, “Aye! That I have the answer for!”

A quick trip later sees both men at a tavern in Elladra’s Kitchen. One-Eyed Jack is well on his way to complete inebriation, while Alexandre is more reserved in his drinking. Thoughtfully, he announces, “Ya know Jack, I’m thinking it might be that we won’t find this guy.”

“Aye!” Jack announces loudly, lifting his mug as if in salute. A moment later Jack seems to actually comprehend Alexandre words and lowers his mug. “Aye. Tis likely.”

“But really how hard would it be to find another sailor? I mean a good sailor – a sailor like us. Where in town would you go to hire on a sailor like us?”

One Eyed Jack looks steadily at his ale before swigging down half a tankard, “Only be one place in town that I’d be a hirin’ out of – that’d be Skulls Eye Wharf. Quality sailors there, none of that flim-flamsy uniform boys who don’t know port from a good drink.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me. But maybe I should try checking in with the boss man one more time. He still might know more ‘bout Red seeing he hired him on. So that’s the plan – boss man then Skulls Eye Wharf then maybe ‘nother tavern,” Alexandre drawls.

Jack agrees readily to the plan, thinking that the last part is an especially fine feature – particularly since Alexandre continues to foot the bill. Jack had forgotten how good of a friend Alexandre is.

This time when Alexandre returns to the Lyrandar offices, he tracks down Ravien directly – finding him speaking with artificers working on the Liralen itself. The conversation seems important, so he waits for a few minutes, but Ravien notices him and gives him a few moments of his time.

“What is it Alexandre?” he asks abruptly. Ravien is considerate, but also extremely busy.

“I was wonderin’, what do you know about Redbeard? He’s ah, provin’ hard to find,” Alexandre explains.

Ravien sighs, “Not much, I’m afraid. I know he is a Gatekeeper druid. He’s been quite competent and reliable, but he keeps to himself and I’ve respected his wishes for privacy in his personal affairs.”

Alexandre nods, “More than I knew, thanks.”

Ravien nods, “Your welcome, good luck.” He turns to leave but Alexandre stops him short with another question.

“Hey if we don’t find him, do you want me to go down and hire on a new crew member? Jack here knows the best spots in town.” The deckhand hooks a thumb at One-Eyed Jack, who tries to stand a bit taller, but fails to stop the awkward sway that has afflicted him since the pair left the inn where they took in dinner and drinks. 

Ravien raises a quick eye brow and then smiles at Alexandre, “That’s fine initiative crewman, but I like selecting my men personally. One of the perks of owning the ship I guess. Thank you for the offer though.” With that, Ravien leaves them.

“A Gatekeeper Druid,” muses Alexandre. “What in the world do you think that is?”

Jack gives him a hiccup and a shrug, “Think I heard somewhere that they hug trees.” The two men look at each other for a minute and then laugh.

“Come on Jack,” Alexandre recovers himself first. “Back to the Inquisitive’s office! We gotta tell them Redbeard’s a Gatekeeper - then we can try another tavern.”

The pair update the search portfolio on Redbeard, then Jack finds them another inn in Hareth’s Folly. After enjoying its fare for awhile, Jack is fully inebriated and Alexandre is a fair ways from sober. Still, he is not ready to give up the search yet.

“So you suppose we should go look for some trees?” Alexandre jokes, setting both men to laughing heartily. “Notta many of those round here, unless ya wanna check out tha parks and such, or tha elves. Heard them elves and tree huggers go hand in hand…” Jack explains. The reasoning sounds good to Alexandre, and the pair take a trip to the predominantly elven district of Shae Lias in the late evening.

Their they find that two drunk and poorly dressed humans are not particularly welcome amidst the local residents. They find themselves shunned, and it eventually dawns on Alexandre that they aren’t going to get anywhere in the district, at least not tonight in the state they are in. Joking and laughing, the pair part ways to get some sleep.

Somehow Alexandre wakes with the dawn, though his head throbs uncomfortably. He vaguely recollects Jacks words about elves… and parks. Struggling into the same clothes as he wore yesterday and into his well-worn armor he hails down a skycoach bound for Sky’s Edge Park. Amidst its custodians he finally get’s some ‘Yes’ answers.

Yes Redbeard was there. Yes, he left for the _Liralen_. Yes, Redbeard got a note from a House Tharashyk Inquisitor late last night.

Alexandre grins – his man is in! He’s willing to bet he’s found his man before the others have found their crew members.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #42: A Missing Cook and a Search Abruptly Ends*

Sasha Larkana looks over the back page of the Sharn Inquisitive, reflecting on her task as she patiently sits in the back of a skycoach making slow progress skyward. She is fortunate that she is attempting to find Fortunato for two reasons. First, a warforged cook should be easily distinguished – even in Sharn and even though she has never met the living construct. Second the back page of the Inquisitive has an exhaustive review of Sharn’s fine dining establishments. From what she understands of Fortunato, it is very likely he will have attempted to either sample or look for employment from these restaurants. Therefore, she has a clear path to follow.

Her reverie is interrupted as her skycoach suddenly lurches to the side. Thrown against the window of her coach, she sees a ramshackle coach plummeting precipitously down the side of a tower. Curiously, she is fairly certain she can hear familiar hollering and hooting coming from the descending vehicle…

“Maniac!” her driver curses, struggling to reorient his controls. It is a long time before Sasha reaches her destination – the Skyway. The district hovers completely disconnected from the towers beneath it, the floating crown of Sharn’s architecture. As she disembarks, Sasha finds her steps light and the weight of her armor lessened – the atmosphere is somehow more buoyant at this high point of the city.

Immediately, the cleric notes that wealth flows freely in this part of Sharn. Well-dressed individuals stroll clean and well-paved lanes. The district is well-marked with colorful signage pointing out prominent locations, and stores display lavish wares of every sort. She cannot resist the bitter thought that a fraction of the wealth of this district would improve and save lives immeasurably in Fallen.

Pushing aside the thought, she pays her driver three silver pieces and disembarks, then consults her restaurant guide. The Azure Gateway Restaurant is listed first, and she elects to make that her first stop.

The restaurant is sculpted out of glass and metal and raised to provide a panoramic view of the skyway and the countryside beyond. When Sasha steps inside a hostess in a soft blue uniform smiles pleasantly, “Good evening miss, table for one?”

“No, thank you,” Sasha responds amiably. “I am looking for someone, actually. A warforged, who would have been interested in dining or possibly employment. It would have been traveling alone…”

“Oh,” the woman responds. Her expression falters briefly from its smile. “Yes. I remember. We turned it away.”

“May I ask why?” Sasha asks.

“It was alone, not escorting anyone,” the woman shrugs. “I thought it was some sort of joke or mischief. Are you looking for him for an investigation of some kind?”

Sasha doesn’t answer her question, “Do you know where it went afterwards?”

“I’m afraid not miss.”

“When was this?” Sasha persists.

“A few days ago, I don’t remember exactly.”

“Thank you,” Sasha turns and exits the restaurant. The next restaurant on her list is the Celestial Vista, a few blocks down the street, and it doesn’t take her long to find it. The building is made of stone, but when she enters she can see that skylights made of colorful glass are interspersed on the ceiling at several points. The colorful atmosphere is pleasing, and a male half-elf in a formal uniform greets her politely, “May I help you, miss?”

“Yes, thank you. I am looking for a warforged who was looking either for a job or to dine here, have you seen anyone like that?”

The man looks thoughtful, “Not myself, but I remember hearing about it. I think he had an interview with our head chef.”

Sasha brightens, “May I speak with your head chef?”

The man considers, “I’m afraid he is very busy at the moment. I can ask him, but it will likely be a bit of a wait. I do apologize, but it is the dinner hour.”

Sasha nods, “I understand. Perhaps I could have dinner here in the meantime?”

The man smiles, “Certainly, this way miss.”

The host conducts Sasha to a table and leaves her with a menu. The cleric’s eyes widen as she scans the list of prices for the full ten course meal on the menu.

A waitress appears promptly at her side to take her order. “Soup and a glass of water, please.” Sasha hands the waitress the menu, and she manages to mostly conceal her disappointment - she is unlikely to get a good tip.

Sasha has finished her soup and is enjoying the subtle play of light in the room as the day turns to dusk through the colored skylights when a man in a stained, but formal chef’s uniform sits across from her. “You were asking about the warforged cook? Fortunato?” he asks.

“Yes, I am trying to find him, and offer him a job. Did you hire him here?” Sasha asks.

“No, I didn’t,” the man sighs. “It’s not a bad cook. Still needs some work – it made some interesting dishes for me to sample, but the flavors didn’t blend properly. I think it must be difficult for it to understand what is too strong of a seasoning for pallets like yours and mine.”

Sasha nods, “Did it mention where it was staying, or where it might go next?”

The chef shakes his head, “I’m afraid not, it seemed disappointed – but it probably tried other restaurants. I don’t think it would have had much luck in the Skyway.”

Sasha sighs but smiles, “Thank you. I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me.”

The chef nods, and then departs back for the kitchen. Sasha settles her bill, leaving a generous tip for her server.

Sasha next makes her way to the Cloud Dragon. Its architecture is in soft rolling grays, inscribed with laconic dragon shapes. It’s a pretty building, but the host inside is unpleasant when she brings up the matter of the warforged cook.

“It didn’t have a membership card, so I turned it away. Then, it had the gall to ask for a membership! I told it to go to the Warforged Rights Movement. That got rid of it, at least,” the man tersely explains.

Sasha frowns softly, “If I wanted to buy a membership, where might I go to find one?”

“Oh, I can sell you a membership miss,” the man answers, immediately more pleasant. “Twenty gold for a years membership. No guests, they need their own cards and there is a dress code but you would have no trouble with that,” the man indicates Sasha’s glammerweave vestments with a casual gesture.

Sasha struggles to keep her expression neutral. The blatant display of bias has her taken aback. Still she manages to keep answer curtly, “Another time, perhaps.” Leaving the restaurant, she reconsiders her plans. There are a great many restaurants in Sharn and there is no guarantee any of them actually hired Fortunato. She considers that it might be easier if she arranged it so Fortunato finds her. Hailing down a skycoach, she directs it to the office of the Sharn Inquisitive, tossing her own copy of the paper in a nearby waste bin before leaving.

***

“I’m sorry miss, but the next issue won’t be published for another three days,” the night clerk does seem sincerely apologetic to the beautiful, if severe cleric.

“That’s too long for what I need,” Sasha sighs. An advertisement in the paper had seemed like the perfect solution to get a message to Fortunato, but she had less than two days – certainly not three to contact it. The man smiles sadly in sympathy. She considers a moment and then asks, “Is there a ‘Warforged Rights Movement’ in Sharn?”

“Is there!” the man laughs. “You haven’t been reading the Inquisitive much lately, have you?”

“Ah – no, I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance,” Sasha apologizes.

“Well, that’s alright. We’ve been running a story about a Jack-in-Irons, some sort of warforged poltergeist haunting the bowels of Sharn. It’s murdered a pair of Warforged – torn them apart really, and no one knows how. Our reporters interviewed several ‘forged at Right’s Movement headquarters in the city. So yeah – there’s a movement alright,” the man explains.

Sasha brightens, “Do you know where I could find them?”

The man considers Sasha for a moment. Sasha beams a pleasant smile. Oh why not…

“I probably shouldn’t, but here’s a list of all the locations we know about. It’s supposed to be for field reporters, but we have several copies. And the story is pretty dry so…” the man shrugs and hands a piece of parchment to Sasha.

“Thank you!” Sasha’s bright smile dispels any lingering concerns the clerk has about the minor violation in protocol. He watches her leave with a slow sigh. “Why can’t more of them look like that?” he murmurs as she exits.

Sasha visits several Warforged Rights chapterhouses in the upper parts of the city. She finds that though they are active politically, they largely serve as meeting places for the living constructs to meet and converse. It is somewhat unnerving walking into these chapterhouses – the metal and wood stares of the living constructs initially seem cold and unfriendly. Some of them most likely are, but those who approach her are pleasant when she explains herself and something else. Relieved, she decides eventually. It would seem that when non-warforged enter, it is often to cause trouble.

“Yes, I remember Fortunato,” a construct nods, his frame laced with a shining silvery material. “I suggested several restaurants to him that might be open to his services.”

“Can you tell me which ones? It’s really important I speak to him, the job I’m offering won’t be available for very long,” she explains.

The warforged considers, “I do not remember exactly. The warforged had a list from the newspaper, and I circled some for him. Do you have a copy? That might help my memory.”

Sasha winces. She just threw it away! “No, I don’t.”

The warforged makes a grating noise within its mouth, a sound Sasha realizes indicates it is thinking, “Honestly, most of the restaurants were in the lower parts of the city. You might try there. Or try some of the chapterhouses there; you might have better luck finding him. Be careful though, some of the lower districts are dangerous.”

“I’ll do that, thank you,” Sasha turns to leave, but pauses and smiles back at the ‘forged. “Let me just say, I’m impressed with what you do here.”

“Thank you,” the warforged’s expression doesn’t change, but its tone indicates its pleasure. “Good night.”

Sasha decides against searching the lower districts at night. She returns to Lyrandar Tower and takes her rest immediately, intent on an early start in the morning. When she does awaken, she leaves a brief note on her door indicating where she will be and swiftly hails down a skycoach.

The lower reaches of Sharn are not entirely safe and that includes the Cogs district where she is headed – Sasha knows this, which is why she is fully armed and armored. Traveling with other members of the Irregulars seemed an unnecessary and wasteful proposition, considering how strapped for time she is. However, after she becomes well and truly lost and several shifty humanoid eyes begin to mark her progress, she begins to doubt the wisdom of her actions.

She doesn’t falter, however, continuing with a confident stride as if she knew exactly where she was going. Unfortunately, this only works until four goblins and a pair of bugbears step in front of her path.

“Where you goin’ girlie?” one of the goblins cackles, casually hefting a barbed metal mallet over his shoulder.

“That is no business of yours,” Sasha says sternly. Her hand falls to the hilt of her longsword at her hip. The group of goblinoids glowers as they consider just how easy a mark the cleric will be.

Which is when a heavy hand grips her shoulder…


----------



## PhoenixAsh

Micah makes a lot of beautiful maps & handouts for our games. Attached is an example of one - the restaurant guide Sasha used in her search. Sharn is a complicated city and it certainly helped her keep track of what was where.


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## Micah

My stretch of employment in the newspaper ad office paid off I guess.   
Much of that handout works with _Sharn City of Towers_ if I remember right I had some funky way of knowing what page of the book the restaurant was on for referencing - I think maybe something to do with the addresses. It wasn't the first time we'd used the Inquisitor as a handout. I think we used the front page when we got done with the Whitehearth run to list possible adventures in Sharn. It was a fun way to set up the options.

For a crew travelling on an airship there are going to be cities that the Irregulars see multiple times. Both Sharn and Stormhome will likely see more action as ports of call. (OK - I know that Sharn sees more. . . .) The nice thing is that both of these areas are already fairly detailed. We have PCs who've called those places home and have a lot of background stories, npcs, and familiar locations to work with. . . . not to mention a few enemies in the wings. 

Thanks for the updates PhoenixAsh! Looking forward to more!


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #43: A Difficult Search*

Ruel steps out from his skycoach at Morgrave University, and hands his driver three silver pieces for his fare. The sun hangs low in the sky, but not too low – he still has enough daylight to work with to find the Jorascos. Thankfully, he also has some acquaintance with Morgrave University, having been there before in his search for information about Sythriel. Therefore, he knows right where the information desk is to begin his current search. There is a small line, but he waits patiently for his turn.

“I am looking for Vijaya d’Jorasco. She should be attending some conferences on the healing arts here, would you have any information on where I could find her?” he asks amiably.

The young woman behind the counter – probably a student herself – looks through some paperwork. “Let’s see, I know there are some conferences going on right now… here we go. Vijaya d’Jorasco you said? She’s presenting, right now actually. Conference room 11B, take those stairs to the fifth floor, go right to the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” Ruel nods and heads in the indicated direction. _‘I do not know why Alexandre thought this would be so difficult.’_

Ruel no sooner reaches the conference room then finds Grelyn, Vijaya’s son, looking quite bored on a bench outside the conference room. The boy brightens on seeing him, “Ruel! Hi!”

“Hi Grelyn, is your mother inside?” Ruel smiles.

“Yeah. Gods this is boring. I miss the airship, but I guess that’s over and done with, huh?” the boy slouches on the bench.

“Perhaps not, actually. That is what I have come to speak to your mother about,” Ruel replies.

“Really!? Yes!” Grelyn springs to his feet and grabs the wizard’s arm. “You gotta convince her to go, and let me go! I *hate * these boring lectures!”

“That is my intention,” Ruel laughs and pries himself free from the lad’s grasp. “Let me talk to her.”

Ruel enters the conference room, but is obliged to wait several minutes for Vijaya to finish her lecture. He notes with amusement that Vijaya is presenting on healing techniques and theories in the environment of the Mournlands. He finds it interesting enough to be diverting.

When she finishes he approaches her behind a small throng of curious students and academics. When Vijaya notices him, however, she steers him aside so they can speak.

“It’s nice to see you Ruel, can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, I have come from Ravien to offer you and your son your places back onboard the Liralen. We have come across a way to salvage the ship’s ability to do business,” he explains.

“I see,” Vijaya considers. “When will the ship be departing?”

“Tomorrow, actually. At mid-afternoon, sooner if possible.”

Vijaya shakes her head, “No, I’m afraid not Ruel. I’ve promised to give several more lectures over the next few weeks and I cannot go back on that.”

Ruel smiles understandingly. Really, getting a healer like Vijaya onboard is not a high priority with Sasha present. Still… “Of course. But what about your son?”

“What about Grelyn?” she replies.

“It seems to me he is eager to rejoin the _Liralen_,” he points out.

She sighs, “You told him about this already.”

Ruel has the grace to look apologetic, “I did not know to withhold the information from him. However, I would point out that roaming Morgrave’s hallways hardly seems like a good activity for him. Aboard the _Liralen _ he would have guidance and supervision and honestly, I think he would learn and retain a lot more about your craft.”

Vijaya considers the wizard’s words. Ruel has always been convincing, but she is still troubled by the idea, “I take it this haste has a reason. I’ll bet that reason is dangerous.”

Ruel has to acknowledge this, “Yes, the mission will be dangerous. However, not for those aboard ship, only for those of us with… irregular duty.”

Vijaya sighs, “You can’t know that for sure.”

Ruel shrugs gently, “It is your decision.”

Vijaya considers for a time, interrupted briefly by a professor complimenting her on the lecture. But she does acquiesce. “Alright Ruel. But I want your word. No… away missions for Grelyn. I want him safely aboard ship at all times. I’m going to write you a letter and I want you to make sure Ravien sees it. I think I may speak to him myself also.”

Ruel nods, “Agreed.” He waits patiently for Vijaya to quickly draft a letter for Ravien, takes it and excuses himself. Leaving the University he flags down another skycoach. With the matter of the Jorascos settled, the next task he should be doing is locating Kashandi…

“I am feeling in the mood for something spicy for dinner. Take me to the Lava Pit,” he announces to the driver, stretching out in the back of the conveyance.

“I can get you close, but not right there. Districts low, you’ll have a little walk,” the driver answers gruffly.

“That is acceptable,” Ruel smiles and closes his eyes.

The Cogs are not a very pleasant district, but the Lava Pit restaurant is still a relatively safe destination, and so Ruel enjoys a pleasant, if stimulating, spicy dinner. He asks briefly about Fortunato, but no one he talks to has seen him. Unfortunately the hour is quite late by the time he makes it back to Lyrandar Tower and leaves the note with Ravien. He decides to go to sleep now, and see what the morning will bring.

***

It turns out the morning brings an early visitor, interrupting his morning meditations. Bidding the visitor entrance, he finds it is Errol, the ships cabin boy. Ruel had spoken to Errol and Fendrik in the Lyrandar Tower before going to Morgrave yesterday, and both were quite agreeable to rejoin the ship. Errol’s visit comes as a surprise.

“Ruel, can you help me with something?”

“Is Fendrik with you?” The bo’sun had agreed to watch over Errol while others were occupied.

“No, he said I should ‘bother’ you about this,” the shifter boy flinches uncomfortably.

“No bother, Errol. What seems to be the problem?”

“I… uh want to get a pet, see. And I was, uh, kinda hoping you could help me decide what to get,” Errol looks at his feet while answering.

Ruel smiles, “Certainly. Let me finish my meditations and I will assist you. Feel free to play with Fredrick.”

Ruel’s familiar and the _Liralen’s _ cabin boy play an amusing game of hide and seek until Ruel is ready to go.

“Now, I am in a bit of a hurry, you understand. So we need to be as quick as possible, alright?” Ruel explains as they head out into the early morning. Errol nods quickly and starts off towards the pet shop. The wizard’s admonishment is well-heeded and Ruel must jog at some points to keep up with the boy, who scurries through the crowd easily.

The pet shop is a riot of animal noises, but the shopkeeper is obviously familiar with Errol. The shifter soon points out the animals he has narrowed down towards being his pet (or pets):

-A litter of jumping rambunctious puppies (“I could buy three of them!” Errol exclaims.)
-A huge orange and red monstrosity of a toad. (“This fine specimen used to a familiar to a great wizard!” the shopkeeper pronounces grandly)
-A beautiful hawk with silver-tip wings.

Ruel considers the toad. He is something of an expert on magical beasts, which all familiars are. And the toad is no more magical beast than Errol is! “I would recommend the hawk, my boy,” he advises gently. Errol is easily convinced, and with the purchase made exits the shop with hawk in hand in a metal cage, along with a squirming container of live mice.

“Where to now Ruel?” Errol seems to be eager to help. Ruel considers – the boy knows the streets, but…

“Let us show it to Grelyn, he has probably arrived by now. And then… the pair of you can help Audric,” Ruel decides. Errol brightens and just as quickly as they left, they are back at Lyrandar Tower. After extracting himself from the boys (Grelyn had just arrived), Ruel takes stock of who has arrived and who has not.

The ship’s second mate, Travyl d’Lyrandar, is available and has kept track of who has checked in.

“Well, all the officers are here… except Aloysius. Levic showed up yesterday and has been helping out all night. Oliver d’Sivis is here, Grelyn, Errol and Fendrik you know about. Tamblyn and Gemma showed up.” Travyl points out Gemma’s griffon taking exercise above the _Liralen_, but Maddy and Kyrjet couldn’t be found at the addresses they left. Oh, Redbeard just checked in too. Cynde’s messenger left her the note, but she hasn’t arrived yet.”

Ruel nods and considers, “No word on Fortunato then. Very well, I am confident Sasha will find our cook. The matter of Kyrjet and Maddy is concerning. Since Alexandre has found Redbeard, could you ask him to try and locate Maddy if you see him? I will be looking into Kyrjet.”

Travyl nods and Ruel makes haste to depart for the Sunrise district in Tavick’s Landing. _‘No sign of Kashandi either, what a shame… surely a good sword arm is more important!’_

Tavick’s Landing is a gated community, and Ruel is obliged to turn over his weapons at the gate before entering – hardly an inconvenience. When he arrives at Sea Ray Tower, which Kyrjet left as his forwarding address he immediately learns why the messenger couldn’t find him – the address is listed as #333, and the tower’s addresses only go to #33! Ruel asks around at the tower, but none of its residents know of Kyrjet nor can they explain the discrepancy, so Ruel returns to Lyrandar Tower.

When he comes back, he learns firsthand that Cynde d’Lyrandar has arrived. The scullery maid quickly approaches Ruel. “Hi Ruel, did you let Kashandi know about all this? I know where she’s working, if you haven’t.”

Ruel inwardly groans, “We have not found her yet, no.”

“Oh,” Cynde frowns. “Well, she’s working at the Starfire Dragon, in Smoky Towers…”

“I see. I had best find her then,” Ruel replies tightly. “If you see Sasha or Alexandre, please let them know. Oh, and also see if they can try and find Kyrjet, he gave the wrong address.”

Cynde nods brightly. Ruel turns away and permits himself a scowl. _‘Alexandre was right. This is… difficult.’_


----------



## Pflume

It's not as easy as it looks. These sessions were awesome. Like having the copy of the "only map"  (This was part of Zanders back story I wanted to give the DMs stuff to work with, and I was very surprised when Zander had the map it was like an assest on a slam dunk . Our DMs love to reward creativity   )  This then started what was a frenzy of activeity, inclueding racing around the city with my mate,and long lost friend  One Eye Jack  .


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## Pflume

It's not as easy as it looks. These sessions were awesome. Like having the copy of the "only map"  (This was part of Zanders back story, I wanted to give the DMs stuff to work with, and I was very surprised when Zander had the map; it was like an assist on a slam dunk . Our DMs love to reward creativity   )  This then started what was a frenzy of activity, including racing around the city with my mate, and long lost friend  One Eye Jack  .


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## Micah

PhoenixAsh said:
			
		

> the next task he should be doing is locating Kashandi…
> 
> “I am feeling in the mood for something spicy for dinner. Take me to the Lava Pit,”



That made me laugh!


One of our goals in getting away from pre-written modules was to see if we could build sessions to tie into the PC's backgrounds and development. Alexandre had "inherited" a thinblade and mapcase in his backstory. It became an easy plot-hook to start off an adventure. Alexandre's map bore a startling likeness to the old "Isle of Dread" map. Because we had it around and it's a good map, we used it rather than re-inventing the wheel.


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## Krafus

Well, looks like Ruel will be going after Kashandi. The reunion should be... interesting.


----------



## PhoenixAsh

*Update #44: Brief Success*

Dox looks over the food and drink supplies stored in the hold. It seems like enough to him. Really he’s not sure why he’s stuck moving crates and barrels around, he’s a bartender not a deckhand…

He is interrupted by Redbeard and Travyl. “Dox, would you find Alexandre and let him know that he needs to find Maddy Tregar? Oh, and help him out, your dismissed. Redbeard, take over.”

The impassive Redbeard nods and Dox smiles up at the man and pats him on the shoulder as he exits the hold, “Good to have you back!”

Alexandre isn’t hard to find, the deckhand watches the progress onboard the Liralen with a satisfied smirk. Dox moves next to him, “Travyl says we gotta find Maddy.”

Alxandre groans, “Arrgh! Do you know how much good time and money I’ve spent finding Redbeard?!”

Dox shrugs, “Well finding Maddy can’t be that hard. She’s a griffon-rider! Even in a city this big there can’t be that many places to hide a griffon. Come on, let’s ask Gemma, she should know.”

The _Liralen’s _ other griffon-rider confirms Dox’s theory: there aren’t a lot of places to stable a griffon in Sharn. Since Daggerwatch Garrison (her listed address) is out, and Stormwind Keep (Gemma’s address) is also out, it narrows it down to the Platinum Heights.

“Come on!” Dox encourages. The pair find a skycoach and Dox pays three silver to have the man take them to Platinum Heights. Above the district they actually spot Maddy – flying on her griffon! “Follow that griffon!” Alexandre enjoins, and the driver does. They land in an open building that houses a small variety of large flying animals – pegasi and giant owls as well as griffons. They find Maddy stabling her griffon.

“Maddy!” Dox exclaims. “Want to work on the _Liralen _ again?”

Maddy blinks at the pair, but shrugs, “Okay.”

***

Sasha tries to draw her longsword, but another strong hand closes around her wrist. It’s then that she notices the hand is metal – with only three large fingers. A warforged.

“This woman is in my company, I suggest you disperse,” the warforged intones flatly, directed at the goblinoids. Reluctantly, they do leave, deciding the odds are no longer in their favor.

The warforged releases her and Sasha turns to face it. The warforged has a heavy, solid look – its chassis a dull, heavy gray, likely adamantine. A heavy shield is strapped to its back, as well as a battle axe. “I’m Hash, I’m sorry if I startled you.”

Sasha smiles at Hash, letting relief wash into her expression, “You did startle me, but don’t apologize. Thank you for helping me.”

Hash nods, “We should get off the street. There’s an inn, the Red Hammer, a few blocks from here. Will you accompany me?”

Sasha nods and the pair head off. Hash explains that he is attempting to join the city guard, and the Red Hammer is providing him a residence while they consider his application. He then inquires into her business in the Cogs.

“I am trying to find a Waforged cook, his name is Fortunato,” she explains.

“Ahh – Fortunato,” Hash nods.

“You’ve met him?” Sasha asks, wide-eyed.

“Yes… why do you ask?”

“I need to give him a message, a job offer, but it will expire if I don’t find him soon.”

“I see. I should take you to him then, he is staying at the Hammer,” Hash answers evenly.

***

Fortunato examines the food he purchased from a street vendor – meat, cheese, and chopped vegetables wrapped up in unleavened bread, fried. He holds it up to his mouth and ascertains its scent – bland. He opens it slightly and prods the contents with one finger. The meat is a poor cut, the vegetables are beginning to turn bad and the cheese doesn’t appear fresh. He puts it inside his mouth and takes a bite. The bread splits at the bottom and the contents spill all over his lap.

He sighs – so many flesh and blood cooks put so little care into their work.

“Fortunato?” a woman’s voice interrupts his taste test.

“Yes?” he turns in his chair, but the woman is already sitting across from him.

“I’m glad I finally found you,” she smiles pleasantly.

Fortunato considers the woman carefully. Many humanoids look very similar to him, but he is certain he would have recognized the rose-etched plate mail, and the glimmering weave of her clothing and… her holy symbol. Dol Arrah, he notes with fascination. “Yes,” he responds finally. “But who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Sasha Larkana. I recently joined the crew of the _Liralen_. I met Ruel, and several other members of the crew while they were doing a side-job.”

Fortunato nods. That makes more sense. However… “Perhaps you have not heard, the Liralen is, sadly, no longer in business.”

“It is once again! Ravien’s found a way to get a new wheel that should let the ship be properly controlled. We’ve been trying to get all the crew back together. Would you take your old job back? I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Fortunato looks around slowly, “You are alone.”

Sasha blinks, “Yes…”

The warforged stands, spilling the food that fell on his lap onto the floor, but paying it little attention. “This is a dangerous district. I will escort you out of it, and then you will please take me to Ravien?”

Sasha grins and rises, wrapping her arm around the solid metal arm of the _Liralen's _ cook.

***

Fortunato and Sasha arrive back at Lyrandar Tower at about the same time as Alexandre and Dox return with Maddy. Sasha, Alexandre and Dox are sharing the results of their searches when Cynde finds them. “Hey! Ruel says you should check on Kyrjet. He hasn’t come in yet and Ruel says his address is wrong.”

Sasha looks at the scullery maid, “Where is Ruel?”

“He’s looking for Kashandi, I told him where she works. I’m just passing word along, I’ve kinda got a lot to pack up…”

Sasha smiles, “Of course. Thank you.” Cynde scampers off.

“Bet that’ll stick in Ruel’s craw!” Dox grins and Alexandre guffaws, slapping his thigh.

Sasha looks at them evenly, “Come along, let’s see to Kyrjet.” Deckhand and bartender smirk as they follow along behind the cleric.

***

Ruel is not smiling as he enters the Starfire Dragon. He has no trouble locating Kashandi – she is singing and playing her harp for the patrons eating their lunch. Gruffly, he requests a table, one in a corner, which will hopefully keep him out of sight of Kashandi.

No such luck. As the host seats him a catch in the harp music lets him know Kashandi has spotted him. She recovers smoothly enough that it goes mostly unnoticed by everyone else in the restaurant-theatre. Ruel barely pays attention to what he orders to eat and quickly drafts a short note.

_Kashandi,

We need to talk. Liralen business.

-Ruel_

Ruel considers the note briefly, than makes one change:

_Kashandi,

We need to talk. Liralen business.

-Ruel_

Nodding in satisfaction, he folds the note up and hands it to his server as he brings her a drink, “Please give this to your harpist along with my ah- compliments.”

The server nods and winks. Ruel sips his drink and tries to decide for which of them this is going to be more awkward.

Ruel is on dessert before Kashandi finishes, and a short while later flings herself down opposite him in his booth. “What do you want?”

“Nice to see you too, Kashandi,” Ruel replies sarcastically. He cuts off a biting remark quickly, “Just business, like my note stated. The _Liralen _ is going to fly again, and Ravien is extending the offer of everyone’s job back, who wish to take it.”

“What?” Kashandi’s tone softens. “But I thought…”

“Long story. We are flying, limping really, across the country to find an artifact which will allow for proper control and locomotion on an island Alexandre has a map to,” Ruel explains tersely.

Kashandi ignores his tone, “When is this happening?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Ruel replies.

“What!? Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” Kashandi almost shouts, rising up from her seat.

“By the gods woman! I did not find out myself until yesterday and you did not exactly leave a forwarding address! Calm yourself!” Ruel hisses.

Kashandi’s anger smothers in an embarrassed flush. She sits back down. “Sorry,” she mutters. “Look, I don’t know… this isn’t a bad job and I hate to just up and leave so quickly…”

Ruel rolls his eyes but holds up his hands, “It is completely your decision Kashandi. If you can make it, come to Lyrandar Tower tomorrow by three. Earlier if possible. If you cannot, I am sure no one will hold it against you.”

Kashandi nods and Ruel places a pair of gold pieces on the table. “I am in a hurry.”

“Right. My break is almost over,” Kashandi sighs.

“Break a leg,” Ruel stands and smirking, moves to depart. Kashandi glares after him.

***

Sasha, Dox and Alexandre spend some time searching after Kyrjet, but they have no more success than Ruel – no one in or around the building that they speak to have seen the man. When they return to Lyrandar Tower, Ruel awaits them.

“Kashandi has been notified,” the wizard advises evenly.

“Will she come with us?” Sasha questions.

“She declined to say for sure. I let her know when the _Liralen _ is leaving and where to come. I can do no more.”

Sasha observes the wizard carefully, but he seems sincere, so she nods. “We had no luck finding Kyrjet.”

“That is concerning… still, he is the only one left of importance to find. Kyrjet is good with a sword, but I do not know if it is critical we find him,” Ruel considers.

“Why don’t we ask Ravien?” Dox asks.

There is general agreement to the suggestion, and the four Irregulars track down Ravien as swiftly as possible.

Ravien is largely aware of their progress, but listens patiently and nods his approval as his team delivers their report. He frowns as they describe their inability to find Kyrjet. “That does concern me. However, there is a matter of greater urgency I need you four to address. Aloysius, the ship’s first mate, has gone missing. I’ve contacted his family, and it would seem he may have been the victim of foul play.”

The small group of Irregulars visibly deflate – yet another person to track down in the huge city. “Any word on where he might be?” Alexandre asks.

“He was staying with his family in Platinate, in the Upper Menthis. I have the address for you,” Ravien hands a scrap of parchment to Alexandre, who perks up with a clear destination in mind. “He is not there, however. I understand there was an… incident yesterday and he disappeared under strange circumstances while purchasing a weapon. Talk to his family, then see what you can do to find him. Aloysius is first priority.”

“Aye,” Alexandre nods. “Let’s be off mates!”

Sasha doesn’t follow along with the rest behind Alexandre. When they realize she’s not following, they look back questioningly at the cleric. Sasha looks carefully at Alexandre, “Alexandre. Platinate... they say in that district you have to look like you dressed yourself with platinum. You can’t walk in like that. We’ll all have to go without arms as well”

Alexandre looks down at his workman’s clothing and rubs his chin, “I’ve been meaning to find myself a good tailor. Blast!”

Ruel shrugs, “Accompany us as far as you can. It is likely whatever incident afflicted Aloysius didn’t affect him inside that district, we can meet up after speaking with his family.”

Alexandre sighs, “Aye.”

The more sharply dressed Irregulars make their way inside Platinate and to the address Ravien gave them. They have no trouble meeting with Aloysius’ mother, who seems to have been made aware that they would be coming. She is emotionally strained, but holding herself together with an effort of will. “I know my son is alive,” she says immediately.

Sasha nods softly, “I believe you. We’re going to find him. I know it’s hard, but can you tell me exactly what happened when he disappeared?”

She sighs, “I told the watch this, but it’s only been a day, so they say there isn’t much they can do yet. They don’t understand him, he wouldn’t just up and vanish without telling me.”

Sasha nods, “Of course.”

“He was going to buy something. He was going to Wilkenson’s Enchanted Weapons. He didn’t come back. I sent my husband to look for him, but he never made it to the shop. No one there had seen him, and they still had the bolas they made for him.”

Sasha smiles gently, “Thank you, that is very helpful.”

Aloysius’ mother looks at Sasha and trembles with the effort of restraint. In a soft voice, she asks, “You’re a priestess of the Host? Will you pray for my son?”

“One of the Host, yes. Yes, of course,” Sasha steps forward and bends at one knee in front of Aloysius’ mother, resting a hand on her shoulder. Softly, she prays for Dol Arrah and his brothers and sisters of the host to watch over Aloysius. His mother prays fervently with her. Ruel and Dox excuse themselves, and await Sasha in the foyer.

When she finishes the Irregulars meet back up with Alexandre – it is fortunate they have a clear trail to follow, as they barely have a day to find the _Liralen’s _ first mate.


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## Pflume

*time is of the essences*

Will our heroes solve the mystery of the missing first mate???
Will they make it back to the ship in time?????

what is up with Zanders wardrobe?

Stay tuned for the next installment of the Liralen Irregulars.


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## Micah

Things are about to get moving for the crew.
13 Shanty Lane Map


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## PhoenixAsh

*Update #45: Search and Rescue*

“You have anything good?” Alexandre grins at the shopkeeper of Wilkenson’s Enchanted Weapons.

“Several things that are very good, what are you interested in?” the merchant answers smoothly.

Ruel leans over to whisper in Alexandre’s ear, “Unless you have a couple thousand gold handy, do not bother.”

Alexandre sighs, “Nothing right now, I guess.”

Ruel straightens, “We are looking for a man who has gone missing. His name is Aloysius, and I believe he purchased magic bolas from your shop?”

“Oh yes,” the shopkeeper nods. “He placed the order a couple weeks ago and paid for it, but he never picked it up. I’ve heard there was a disturbance a couple blocks over, and from what I’ve heard its likely he was involved.”

Ruel nods, “Thank you.” The Irregulars exit the shop after some polite browsing. Ruel looks down the street and nods, “Let me talk to a few people, see what I can turn up.”

Ruel speaks to a few of the shopkeepers. He learns that there was a sudden patch of darkness on the street, and the sounds of a struggle. Its general location puts it next to a few active stores, and one that is out of business and abandoned. A faded sign above the door depicts a carpet flying through the air. Deciding the abandoned store a likely place to start, the Irregulars gather around to observe it.

Dox is first forward. The stone walkway outside the store is stained and scuffed, marking signs of a struggle. Near the door to the abandoned store he finds a torn and bloodied piece of fabric – a Lyrandar uniform. He gestures the rest of the Irregulars over with his chin, showing them the bloodstained fabric.

“We need to get inside,” Sasha says softly.

“No problem!” The door is not locked of any consequence to keep out a rogue of Dox’s skill, and he has it picked in a matter of seconds.

“They could still be here,” Ruel incants and touches Dox’s shoulder, and the changling disappears from view, _Invisible_. “Check the inside.”

Dox slips through the door with an audible creak, but a quick survey shows that the building is empty. Dox combs the interior, and he can tell that the struggle outside continued in – blood mingles with the heavy dust on the floor, and a muddled but obvious trail of struggling footprints goes through the store and to the door out back and into the alley. He opens the door cautiously and peers outside, but the alleyway is empty and the trail lost to him. He carefully goes over the entirety of the interior. Ruel’s spell expires and the rest of the Irregulars watch his progress from the doorway. Finally, he recovers a tattered book that slid under the store’s counter. Inside, many of the pages are torn out, but he can tell it is a business ledger, full of old contacts. However, one page has recent writing in it, an address: _#13 Shanty Lane, Storage, Lower Dura_

Dox smiles and returns to the Irregulars, showing them the page. “Looks like we still have a trail.”

The Irregulars leave the district and head lower into the city. Sharn’s sea docks are in the lower reaches of the city, overlooked by magical cranes that litter the cliff face above the Dagger River. These cranes haul goods to various districts in the lower and middle parts of the city. Storage is one such district, and the address the Irregular’s have put them in front of a warehouse, one that seems to be out of regular use.

Dox carefully checks the door for any traps, and then picks the lock on the door with an audible ‘click’, then pushes the door open slowly. He sees a large man in tattered clothing with a very large axe. Swallowing, he straightens and walks in as if he owns the place. The man starts, stirring as if just waking up from being asleep. Dox glares at him sharply, “You’re sleeping on the job!”

The man’s eyes narrow and he shifts quickly to his feet, “Who are you?”

“It is I!” Dox announces grandly, making up a name on the spot, “Althaga!”

The man looks deeply suspicious. However, his suspicion is lifted when he see’s Ruel behind Dox, who has just finished casting _Charm Person_ on him. He’s certain that he recognizes the smiling half-elf – surely a very important person and the rest must be his associates!

“Hello, nice to see you,” Ruel beams.

“I… really wasn’t sleeping, honest,” the man begins, quickly realizing this important man might be upset if he was sleeping on the job.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ruel smiles. “What was your name?”

“Cinco,” the man answers, straightening up to his full height.

“We are doing a brief survey of the premises, how many of you are here today?” Ruel asks lightly.

“There’s four of us. The boss, me, my good buddy Quatros, and Verday,” Cinco explains.

“Do you have any… guests with you today?” Ruel asks with a smirk.

“Oh yeah!” Cinco grins. “We got this fancy-pants flyboy strung up, from some airship. Getting’ paid real good to get him to talk. Boss is good at this type of stuff, I tell ya.”

Ruel nods, “I’m concerned about the defenses here, do you have any traps or similar mechanisms on any of the doors here?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to worry about that, we got everything handled here, if there’s any trouble,” Cinco explains quickly.

‘What is behind the door there, behind you?”

“Boss just doing some work in there,” Cinco smiles knowingly. There’s a brief bought of jarring laughter audible through the door, followed by a muffled scream.

The Irregulars tense. Ruel briefly glances at the rest, whose hands tighten around their weapons. Looking back to Cinco, he asks, “Would you open the door for us? We’d like to have a word with your boss?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m sure he’d be happy to see ya,” Cinco nods and fishes out a key, opening the door behind him. The door opens on an expansive warehouse. Catwalks lace across the ceiling, and scattered boxes are pushed against the walls. They don’t see Aloysius immediately, but a long chain dangles into a deep pit. They watch as a man above in the catwalk turns a hoist and Aloysius rises over the lip of the pit and into view, dangling upside-down from his ankles on the end of the chain. An elf glares at the dangling crewman, while another man holds a hooked chain, whirling it threateningly.

Ruel immediately takes action and casts _Web _filling the entrance to the pit completely with interlaced strands of sticky webbing. Cinco claps Ruel on the back, “Good thinking buddy! We’ll catch him like a spider in a web!”

The rest of the men turn upon the Irregulars, surprised at the sudden webbing. The closest gets a nastier surprise, as Dox looses two arrows with expert precision. The first lodges beneath his sternum, and the second through his neck – killing him instantly.

“Quatros!” Cinco shrieks. “Buddy he’s a traitor, get him!” Cinco hoists his greataxe and brings it down upon Dox, whose frantic dodge isn’t quick enough to avoid a heavy hit with the flat of the axe that is still considerably painful. The Irregulars turn blades on their brief ally, and Sasha and Alexandre strike at him. The man’s grief and rage give him strength, however, and he turns their attacks and a counter-attack against Alexandre is poorly blocked by his thin blade, and the haft of the axe strikes his leg with enough force to nearly buckle it. Alexandre grins despite the pain, and brings his dagger down on the other side of the axe and whirls. Cinco has to drop the axe to avoid being pulled to the floor.

He scrambles after it, and both Sasha and Alexandre cut him while he exposes himself to their attacks. As he hauls up his axe he sees Ruel’s dagger flash nearby and looks at the wizard, with a wide-eyed expression of betrayal.

“Sorry! I was trying to hit her, but I missed,” Ruel lies quickly. Cinco buys it, and brings his axe down on Alexandre. He is only able to party deflect the strike, and the axe cuts into his shoulder, nearly crippling him. “Sasha! Help!” he rasps.

Sasha moves to heal Alexandre, but Cinco’s axe is everywhere, and she takes a heavy hit to her side. Her armor compresses inward painfully, but the heavy plate saves her life – and allows her to do the same for Alexandre, as she _Cures _his injuries.

Thus renewed, Alexandre presses his thinblade forward – it pierces between his ribs and through a lung. Gurgling, Cinco looks imploringly at Ruel. “Buddy…”

With a callous pull, Alexandre yanks his blade free and Cinco collapses in a heap.

The elf opposite the pit sees both men fall and backs up while drawing a longsword. He snarls at the man at the controls to the winch, “Verday! Get down here!” Dox answers by firing an arrow that imbeds shallowly in the man’s leather armor.

Ruel launches a bolt from his crossbow at Verday as the man descends down from the catwalk, but the bolt shatters on a bar of the metal ladder he uses. Alexandre and Sasha move forward, readying to strike at either man if they approach.

“Verday!” The elf gestures with his chin. “Flank ‘im!” They advance to do so, but Alexandre lashes upwards and wraps a dangling winch line around his wrist and kicks upwards. The winch moves on its rail, yanking him back several feet. The elf swings at him, but Alexandre’s thinblade meets the strike and parries it neatly. The sure-footed deckhand lands in a crouch.

Ruel casts again and Verday hiccups, guffaws, then collapses into gales of _Hideous Laughter_. Dox looses another arrow that pincushions the elf. Sasha charges and her blade clashes with that of the elf. Sasha get’s the worse of the exchange, as the man strikes her arm soundly, enough to cut flesh and deliver a burning poison. A cold sweat breaks out on Sasha’s brow as her vitality is sapped.

Alexandre, is grinning as he runs up to a ladder and begins to climb up to the catwalk, while the elf backs off from the fight to quickly drink a potion. Ruel gestures briefly and a flash of light _Dazes _him. Another arrow from Dox lodges in the elf’s thigh. Sasha prays and her hand is coated in an oily sheathe of energy, but the _Inflict _spell dissipates harmlessly in air as she misses the elf.

Dox runs across the catwalk then takes a flying leap. His blade punches through the muscle of the elf’s shoulder. The elf pales as he is nearly overwhelmed by the series of attacks from four opponents.

He brightens when his two remaining men move up onto the warehouse floor from a staircase in the back. There is nothing between them and Ruel, and the wizard frantically tries to dodge, without even his accustomed _Mage Armor_ to ward him. He manages to only get struck once, but even a glancing blow from the powerful man was almost enough to snap ribs.

Ruel steps back and grabs for a scroll in his Handy Haversack – reciting it, a whirling clash of colors washes over both men. One is overwhelmed, and he drops his weapon as he covers his eyes. The other blinks off the effects of the spell and brings his axe down on the wizard. Ruel can neither dodge nor block and so crumples as the weapon bites deep.

Another arrow strikes the elf’s arm from Dox, and his guard is broken at a poor moment. Sasha’s blade cuts through his leathers and into his stomach, killing him in a single smooth slash. She looks back at the new opponents and pales at the sight of the fallen wizard, and moves towards him.

Alexandre turns on Verday, who is slowly recovering from the _Hideous Laughter_ and pierces him repeatedly to make sure he never does.

Dox bites his lip, then pulls out the party’s Javelin of Lightning. He hurls it and it turns into a crackling lightning bolt. Both men are shocked violently, and their flesh sizzles, but they remain upright. Dox quickly moves past Sasha, determined to avoid Ruel’s fate.

Sasha doesn’t bat an eye, but surges forward to meet the attack of the last threat. Still smoking, the man lunges at Sasha but she deflects the strike and her counter attack cuts him deeply. The man staggers, nearly falling. He hefts his axe for one more strike, but its fall is met by Sasha’s shield. The man’s fingers go numb, his axe drops – then he falls as the blood loss becomes too much for his body to bear.

A single arrow from Dox is enough to finish his blinded and stunned partner.

Sasha rushes to Ruel and prays – healing energy pours into the wizard and his flesh mends. The wizard spasms, turns, then coughs up blood. Praying again, she uses another healing spell and the wound knits up completely. Gasping, Ruel struggles upright.

“Take it easy, they’re all defeated,” Sasha helps him back up.

Ruel nods as he straightens, trying to avoid looking at all of his blood pooled beneath him. Dox and Alexandre are already searching the downed men’s bodies for valuables, the changling briefly giving the wizard a thumb’s up as they see him rise. Ruel looks up at Aloysius, “We need to get him down.”

He goes for the ladder and climbs up. Near the top one of the rungs on the ladder give way and he stumbles, but manages to haul himself up. Sasha looks on with a small frown, “Ruel..!”

“I am fine,” Ruel waves away her concern. Still, he crawls cautiously over to the lever box on the catwalk – not taking any chances. The mechanism is not hard for him to deduce, and he moves the hanging Aloysius out from over the web-covered pit and by Sasha, and then lowers him slowly. Sasha catches him, unties him, then heals Aloysius as best she can – which is only a few orisons, after the intensity of the combat. It is enough to make the _Liralen’s _first mate conscious.

“Look at this, a tattoo!” Alexandre notes, as he tugs off the elf’s armor. Ruel carefully climbs down a different ladder. Only a brief glance is enough for him to tell – it’s a dragonmark, a Least Dragonmark of Shadow.

“Oh gods…” he covers his mouth.

“What? What’s wrong? Not getting squeamish on me are ya?” Alexandre chides.

“No, no of course not. That’s a dragonmark. This man is of either House Phiarlan or House Thuranni. Does he have any identification?” he asks nervously.

“Not that I can see,” Alexandre rummages through the man’s belt pouches. “Some good money in here though!”

“Well, it most certainly must be Thuranni. Phiarlan is a house of entertainers and artists,” Ruel decides with forced casualness.

Dox looks thoughtfully at Ruel, “How do you know all this?”

Ruel blinks, looking around. Alexandre, Dox, Sasha – even Aloysius seem to be looking at him expectantly. “Ah – well Ermineth, you recall, she was part of House Phiarlan. We spoke, and that is how I know.”

The answer seems to satisfy. When Ruel is not looking, Sasha smiles slightly and shakes her head. (Our newest party member did not neglect Sense Motive, unfortunately.)

Or perhaps not. “I know! Let’s take the body with us!” Alexandre exclaims.


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## toetapper1

Audric says with cool determination and a slight smirk on his face, "Let the race begin"


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