# House Medani Detection Office:The Lady in Blue (Updated 12-03-05)



## Express (Jun 30, 2004)

_Ok been a while......_


*1. Rainy Day Doldrums*


 What can I say, it started just as a regular day, Mol to be exact. It was a cool day, mid morning and raining. And as usual, the office was dead.

 Myself, I was seated at my desk reading the Korranberg Chronicle. It was an old copy but I was bored and reading it for what was the fourth time. Me? I guess I should introduce myslef.  Im Calib d'Medani, operator of the Sharn branch of the Medani Detection Office.Not the main office, more like the tertiary one. Now I know you may be thinking: dragonmarked?  a noble? powerful and influential? Let me assure you- I ain't that impressive.

 Of course I have the mark. Im a half elf and even related to Baron Trelib who's up in Wroat. But Im a bit of a black sheep in my family- its a long story, but I nearly got disinheirited. So now, only because of my maternal connections am I allowed to run the most unprofitable branch office of our Guild. I mean the Baron's a mover and shaker, and hes up in Wroat. If you have any gold or power you go see him. So my office is mostly freelance work, small stuff really.

 Which means Im broke..again.

 Im not alone though. Our branch office has three associates. Looking up from the Chronicle I see one: Anvil. He's warforged- an a wizard to boot if you can believe it. Handy in a tight spot, really knows his stuff.  Now that particular morning he was sitting by the window watching the rain. Sometimes Anvil likes to have people think he's dumb, but he was sitting there so still, so motionless. I would have sworn he was asleep except warforged don't sleep.  Anvil is hard to figure sometimes.

 Now no business doesn't mean our grubby little office was quiet. Why? Because of course Dorbo was in the back room banging on something. Dorbo's a gnome and an artificer which means he's either pestering you with questions or tinkering. And by tinkering I mean hammering. Hes a bit absent minded and all, doesn't realize the racket he makes, but a nice guy. And he doesn't complain all that much when I don't pay him on time. 

 I was getting ready to shout at him to keep it down but Bynara beat me to it. Bynara had been snoozing in the corner, but the noise woke her.  And of course Bynara being a shifter means shes now making as much if not more noise than Dorbo. Bynara's our tracker and footpad, stealthy and silent- she can shadow a halfling across the plains of Talenta in the noon day sun and he'd never see her. But she's got a temper- it didnt take her long to fly to the back room. The sound of crashing metal led me to believe she threw something at Dorbo and narrowly missed.

 I was about to play mediator, when SHE walked in. Anvil didnt notice her, and the noise of a scuffle told me the others were too busy, but I saw her. SHE was beautiful; hair like golden straw, piercing blue eyes, dressed in fine silks, and her ears....by the Five Nations... she was a half elf!

 I just stood there speechless, I mean not only did we have a customer she was a knockout....


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## Seravin (Jun 30, 2004)

Nice opening.  I like it and hope to see more of it.


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## Ancalagon (Jun 30, 2004)

There are certain elements of film noir in this first entry, I like it.

Ancalagon


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## caixa (Jun 30, 2004)

Nicely done, can't wait to hear more.

Thanks for doing an Eberron storyhour - its got me "jazzed" too.

Peterson


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## Express (Jul 1, 2004)

*Rainy Day Doldrums (Continued)*

Now when I was put to sleep, the last thing I remember seeing was her face from hours before. She was like an angel. She wore a dark hooded cloak to protect her from the rain, but when she took it off, she revealed a dark blue dress of silk. Her skin was fair and she had a sapphire ring on her right hand. She couldnt have been older than 30. And her blue eyes...

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. For several akward moments I was just standing there, dumbfounded. Anvil noticed the woman and my state, so he rose to meet our guest.

Now Anvil has a deep voice and he speaks usually rather slow. In fact he probably sounds like your grandfather. It always strikes me as funny-he sounds like a member of Parliament sometimes. "Good Morning my Lady" he said, "I am Anvil, how may the House Medani serve you today?"

The woman smiled at Anvil and looked to me. I snapped out of my reverie and introduced myself. I offered her a seat. From the back Bynara and Dorbo had heard our customer and stopped squabbling. Out of the corner of my eye I could see them peeking into the room. I introduced them to our guest.

"My name is Honora Onaan. I have traveled from New Cyre to seek some word of my stepbrother of whom I have had no communication for many months. I have entreated with the authorities with little result, so now I seek your professional advice. The innkeeper at the Blackstone Towers directed me to one of your other offices, but it was closed, so I made my way here, with directions."

_Blackstone Towers_ I thought. _Only one of the most expensive hostelries in town._ 

Bynara and Dorbo took seats nearby. Dorbo, the ever-prepared gnome had taken ink to paper and was taking notes. Byanra and I exchanged a knowing glance and a joint vision of avarice and riches passed between us.

Honora continued, "The authorities have found no trace at his lodgings or at Morgrave University where has been working. My brother I should tell you is a sorcerer, greatly intrigued with the mystic side of magic and with ancient lore.Of this I am not ashamed." 

I nodded in silent agreement. I should have been studying her to guage her intent, motive etc...but found concentrating hard to do.

She continued despite my quiet difficulties. "He has been from home for many years but always stays in touch or finds time to visit. But for six months I have had no word. I am at my wits end, I fear."

Anvil spoke up in his parliamentain grandfather voice, professional as ever "Do you have reason to fear for his safety? As unpleasant as this is to ask, does he have enemies? Do you know what he has been doing at the University?"

"I fear I know little of my brothers recent life," Honora replied , "he is a most private person, which I have always respected. You see, my stepbrother served in the War for Breland- it greatly affected him. In the past few years he adapted a most fatalistic air toward life."

Honora produced a parchment."I have here the addresss of his lodgings and the name of those he knew at the University. They have not been very helpful at Morgrave, so I hope you may have success." 

I inquired if she had a picture of her brother, trying not to stare. She did, a well done miniature one, expensive looking. It portrayed a young male half elf in light armor and velvet robes holding a short spear. He was handsome with a jaunty determined look on his face, as if he was about to spring out of the frame.

Questions and Answers followed. How old was the portrait? It is  a decade old portrait Honora explained but he has been little changed since its commission. His name? Hennet.They looked very much alike I thought.

Bynara began to broach the subject of money, whereupon our customer produced a small leather purse and placed it on the desk. It jinged and thudded with a most satisfying heaviness.

"Here is 750 gold pieces as retainer." she said in the most bland manner. "I am sure you will bill me for expenses and other cost. Money is no object. War and peace have made me a widow and a wealthy one at that." The young woman paused as tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back with great composure. "Hennet is the only family I have in the world. Please find him."

That was the end of the interview. After a few more pleasentries she refused an escort to her inn, exited, and boarded a sky coach that we had failed to notice near the balcony . 

And we were alone with the gold.


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## Express (Jul 1, 2004)

*Rainy Day Doldrums (Continued)*

I waited until she was safely away, then turned to the others, still slightly under the womans spell. "Well? Opinions?"

Anvil shook his head. "Hers is a sad tale indeed."

Dorbo chuckled."You're moon eyed after her boy."

Bynara clapped her hands. "We're rich! We can pay off our bill at the Crown Heart!"

We all concluded that was a wonderful idea.

The Crown Heart is a tavern, of course. Our office sits in a less than fashionable-but respectable section of the city, about midway up the city altitude wise. The Crown Heart is two sky bridges from our building (which also holds our lodgings, I might add) and is our unofficial home away from home. So it was there we adjourned to plan our strategy.

It was agreed over lunch that the following day we would divide the legwork. Myself and Bynara would confer with the authorities and inspect Hennet's home, while Dorbo and Anvil would poke around Morgrave. Neither option promised much hope of success.

Lunch ran into dinner. Dinner into supper. Ale, wine and beer ran freely. It was dark by the time we returned to the office, each of us (except Anvil of course) slightly under the influence.

The night was fine and clear. It had stopped raining, and the sky was alight with the glow of the Ring. It was Bynara noticed the door first, despite the darkness and the liquor. Hissing she pointed to the lock- it had been picked and the door slightly ajar. 

Dorbo began to sputter, "My laboratory! My things!' 

A cold look from Bynara shut him up. "Follow me gnome,"she whspered, "we'll try the backdoor. You take the front?"

Anvil and I nodded in agreement. Bynara was good with tactics. After a few minutes to allow the others to get in position, we entered, attempting to be quiet. I could hear chattering from another room. It was dark, pitch black in the office.

I heard the spell too late. It struck me like a hand. In a flash I was out cold thanks to a sleep spell. Caught unawares like a fool. Before I fell unconscious, I saw Honora's face again, my angelic Lady in Blue as I hit the floor.


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## Express (Jul 2, 2004)

*Rainy Day Doldrums (cont'd)*

I awoke a short time later. By then the office was well lit, the lamps turned on. Anvil was standing over me, smiling, or at least a close approximation of a smile as Warforged do.

"For a half elf you sleep quite well." Anvil actually chuckled.

Now this jest may be lost upon you. I'll explain this a bit later. It all comes to the fact I'm a black sheep and why a _sleep_ spell would affect me. It has to do somewhat with family history, so I won't go into it here.

Suffice it to say I consider myself a half elf. I look a little like a half elf. I even prefer the company of half elf women. But physically, I'm human.

At any rate I struggled to get to my feet. Bynara was gone, off chasing our intruders. Dorbo was in the rear of the office standing over a small figure dressed in a black suit. As I stumbled over, I could see through the spell and alcohol induced haze it was a goblin lying motionless.

"He's dead Calib," Dorbo pronounced.

"For the love of.." I sputtered. "Did you have to kill it?" _Now the City Watch will have be called. Questions. Wonderful._

"It tried to get away in the dark, boy," Dorbo snapped, "Bynara tripped it. We couldnt hit 'um they were too quick."

"No doubt their speed was magically influenced, I have little doubt of that. " Anvil interjected helpfully. With a shrug he went to inspect our office for signs of theft.

Bynara appeared in the doorway breathing heavily. "Theyre gone, moving too fast. Two of them. I couldn't keep up."

While Anvil looked the place over, the rest of us gathered round the corpse. Its clothes were black, nothing fancy nothing too shabby.A bloody dagger was in its right hand, a pool of dark blood beneath the body. It had a mask over its mouth and nose, which Dorbo removed.

"Stone cold," the gnome observed. "When Bynara tripped this fella he fell on his blade. Look, its got somthing on it." He crouched and sniffed at the dagger. "Something toxic. Took him quick like."

We didnt recognize the goblin, wasn't from our district. He had no tatoos or marks that would make him a soldier in any crimelord's organized groups. Dorbo did pull a strange necklace off him. A small black furry paw.

We passed it around. Rabbit? Racoon? We pondered it.

Anvil returned. "My limited observations seem to reveal nothing was taken. Dorbo's laboratory is in a ramshackle state however. It appears we interrupted their attempt at burglary." Dorbo grunted unhappily and went to look after his things.

Bynara took the paw. Sniffed it. Studied it. For a moment I thought she was going to put it in her mouth.

"That's no animal paw." she said with a confident smile. "Its a gnoll paw-the right one, shrunk down."

That was it for me. "I'm going to bed. I'm drunk, tired, and embarassed. Anvil, fetch the City Patrol please. Answer their questions."

I climbed the rear steps and went to my room. There would be work to do tomorrow.


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## Black Bard (Jul 2, 2004)

Great writing!!!

Can't wait for more!!


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## Express (Jul 2, 2004)

*2. The Investigation*

The next day, as could be expected, I had a hangover. I shuffled downstairs. Everyone was there. Anvil was watching the window. Dorbo was cleaning up the chaos from the previous night. Bynara was at the desk, toying with the gnoll paw.


She informed me the Watch had collected the corpse. The blood stain was even gone. They hadn't asked too many questions, looked to them it was a straightforward robbery. I doubt the Watch looked too hard though. Bynara had asked their opinion of the paw- they thought it may have been a gang symbol, but those kind of fashions change rapidly. That goblin didn't look like a Lower Depths gang member to Bynara. Didn't to me either.

I was also told Anvil had spent the night carefully studying the paw. It was quite mundane, no magic detected. So Bynara had a new plaything.

Hennet's address was located in a "new" tower district, a section that had been built upon older exchanges and markets so prosperous merchants and bureaucrats could live a bit higher from the working classes in style. Sharn is after all called the City of Towers. Life is vertical as well as horizontal, and social climbers like to literally move up.  A visit to a well-to-do neighborhood meant Bynara and I would need to dress up, look respectable. She would have to shed the bare midriff look. And I would have to pull out the vestments.

Now we all have a past, secrets, embarassments. Bynara, for instance was a ranger in the Eldeen Reaches. Got into some trouble she never talks about, now she's a city girl. Anvil was buried in the ground for several years until Dorbo found him. He has little memory of his past. Dorbo dyes his hair red to disguise his age. He was a librarian in Korranberg until he got interested in magewrightery. I am a slightly ex-cleric of the Sovereign Host.

Not that it was my choice. I have my mother to thank. I am the youngest of seven children. My mother was a born Medani. She was a force of nature, prideful, intelligent, beautiful. A true dragonmarked scion, and favorite cousin of Baron Trelib. My father died in a shipwreck before I was born. Both were true half elves. I am human, even the ears.

Before my fathers death, he had been from home for nearly a year. My mother had had a not too secret affair with a human knight. When my birth approached, my mother, guilty over the affair, my father's death, and fearful of dishonoring his name, went into seclusion. I was born in secret, and with my evident humanity was placed in the care of the Church. To the rest of the world, I had died at birth.

I learned everything. Seminary,divine magic, and martial studies. I was cloistered and knew little of my family or true name. It took the death of my mother and her will for my identity to be revealed. The intercession of the Baron himself avoided scandal. There are some who don't approve of me, even the Baron, I think, but I dont care. 

However, I didnt really appreciate my situation. I was 16 when I was legitamized. Free of the church's discipline, I rebelled.  I was an idle, drunken, whoring rebel. For several years. Again it took the pull of the Baron to give me a last chance, so here I am. The funny thing is I'm still legally a cleric, a warrior of the Church. I have little real spiritual authority, but I'm knowledgable with things divine. Being a Medani, and living in Breland, as long as I don't do anything too stupid, there won't be a problem.

So I dressed in the robes of the cleric, found the Holy Symbol. I take the outfit seriously. Its just my role I'm still unsure off.

I met Bynara at the front dooor. She had changed into a courtier pattern dress, light green perfect for summer. She looked good. Shifters usually got weird looks even in Sharn. In her outfit, she would blend in, which was the point.

We hailed a sky coach and headed off.


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## megamania (Jul 3, 2004)

Well done and nicely paced.  Solid introductions.  Keep it up.


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## Express (Jul 3, 2004)

*The Investigation (con't)*

_Thanks for all the feedback all.._

As we rode along in the coach, Bynara tugged at her dress uncomfortably. She also kept checking the two daggers she had hidden in the wide sleeves of her garment. I smiled at his nervousness. I had my longsword, but doing legwork as we were meant forgoing the armor and alot of the hardware we might want to take. I think it made Bynara feel a little naked.

Our vessel wound to the north, away from the city center. It finally gained altitude and ran parallel to the river for a while. We could see Cliffside from this point and the dark shape of ships heading into port. The sky was dotted with other skycoaches and a few flying beasts. Lights from the Towers flickered from the darkness of the Lower City, and from the highest spires.

After about 10 minutes we arrived at our first stop, the City Watch District Headquarters.

It took us a while to find the records office, a dark little room in the lower part of the building. The office was manned by a rather small gnome who sat hunched over a ledger behind a high counter. Behind him through a door, we could see shelves and shelves stretching off into darkness. A single lamp of continual light illuminated the office. 

We entered. It was quiet save for the gnomes scribbling. We stopped at the counter, and he ignored us. His downcast expression soured. It didnt take keen observational skills to see this gnome didnt get many visitors, a state of affairs he was most satidfied with.

"Yes?" he said regally, not bothering to look up.

I gave the little squint the particulars about Hennet. I wanted infromation regarding missing persons, recent deaths, suicides recently reported. I flashed my identification and my Medani credentials. The squint wasn't impressed. Bynara floated a few gold to grease the wheels of research. 

"One moment" the gnome said. He climbed off his stool and disappeared into the back. The moment lasted fifteen minutes. He finally emerged, hidden behind two large ledgers almost as tall as him. He plopped them on the counter, and then went back to his scribbling.

Everything was organized so it didnt take long to find what we wanted. Hennet Onaan was not wanted for crimes in the Kingdom. No other governments were requesting his arrest. No one fiting his description had recently been murdered, committed suicide, or fallen off any bridges. So much for simple.

We left, which made the gnome happy, he smiled for the first time. We decided to walk to Henent's place, which wasnt far. The walkways and bridges werent crowded this time of day and we made good time.

"So he's a good citizen," Bynara mused, "he stayed out of trouble."

"Working with Morgrave University, I had thought maybe he had had a run in or two." I replied.

We both agreed that of the types of work we could be doing, missing persons had to be the worse.


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## Express (Jul 3, 2004)

*The Investigation (con't)*

The place where Hennet lived was part of a complex of three towers. They were tall squarish structures, maroonish brown in color. From overhead they would have looked like points on a triange, each equidistant from the other. 

The towers were joined together by a large plaza. The "front" of each tower faced the plaza; balconies studded the front at each floor. The entrances to each dwelling was also in the front of the tower. In addition each tower had external lifts, which had been built into a recessed facade to hold the glass and metal lift cages. The lifts shone bluish light as they descended and ascended on the front of the buildings.

The plaza had been well designed to be pleasing to the eye. It was like a park or garden- lined with trees, there was even a fountain in the center. Fairie fire danced in the greenery. Several people walked about. Bynara and I milled about the garden like a couple of sightseers, studying the place.

The balconies of the towers only faced the front.  Four external doors, leading to residences flanked the lifts, two on each side. Those on the outside front were most likely more prized. The dwellings went all through the width of the tower, so those on the corners had more external windows, and better view. And it probably cost more, since this plaza sat higher than any of its neighbors in this section of the city. The plaza complex also stood about 200 feet apart from its nearest neighbor, allowing more of the panorama of the city to be seen.

We located Henent's house number, Tower 3, 337. His was a corner dwelling.  We knocked on the door. No answer. Again. No answer. Not that we expected one. The ornate door of course was locked.

The door looked heavy, with a large lock. The facade of the building was decorated with ornamental balustrades, and small ledges. Tasteful carved gargoyles had been worked between the floors. The windows of the homes were oval. We admired all this as the lift went up and down. In the plaza a few people came and went. After a bit the plaza was all but empty.

"Well" I asked, "can you pick it?" Of course we could have contacted the property manager, plied him or her with bribes, but that would have taken time. It would have been expensive. And it could have advertised the fact we were looking. Sometimes the direct method is the best. 

Bynara leaned against the door. She pulled out her tools. "I could" she said." I don't like doing it in broad daylight. But at night we would be prowlers wouldn't we ?" She laughed and  pushed and pulled on the door again, testing it. She frowned."Wouldnt matter anyway. "Theres a bar on the door from the inside-its heavy. Not part of the lock."

I looked back to the plaza. No real foot traffic, the coast was still clear. Bynara tried the large front picture window. It was closed glass, no way to open it. The curtains were drawn.

She walked to the far edge of the balcony near the tower's corner. Smaller oval windows wrapped around the wall. Where the balcony ended it was a sheer drop nearly 100 feet to the next city level. However, masons had been to work recently;  empty scaffolding of wood and canvas hung from the side of the tower around to the rear, out of view. The nearest scaffold was 10 feet away.

"Maybe there's a window in the back big enough, "she said. I studied the area again and nodded. With a grin she hiked her dress up a bit and scurried over the balconies edge. She pushed off and gracefully leaped to the scaffolding. She landed hard and the rickety works rattled noisily,  and began to sway violently. Bynara waited and let it settle. Then she shifted.

Now Ive never seen a true were-creature. Ive seen Bynara shift before-it helps her climb. It always bothers me though. The change isnt so much physical as it is.. I don't know spiritual. When I look at her eyes it seems like a little of Bynara isnt there. She looked at me with those strange eyes and with a growl scampered along the scaffolding, and out of sight.

I waited out front, trying to look inconspicuous. The lift whizzed by, its occupants waving at me amiably. Several mintues passed. A pair of lovers embraced in the plaza below. I paced to the balcony's edge straining to hear or see Bynara. 

I heard the bar being lifted behind the door, and the lock snap open. The door opened slightly and Bynara, looking more like herself ,peeked out. "Come on in" she said impishly.


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## Nightingale 7 (Jul 4, 2004)

Very good writing Express!Captivating,and easy to follow too.
Your group of PCs is pretty interesting too?Somebody had to try a Warforged Wizard eh?Isn't he fearful of the built-in ASF?I am also very curious to see how the Artificer class works.


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## Express (Jul 4, 2004)

Nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> Very good writing Express!Captivating,and easy to follow too.
> Your group of PCs is pretty interesting too?Somebody had to try a Warforged Wizard eh?Isn't he fearful of the built-in ASF?I am also very curious to see how the Artificer class works.




The ASF was a worry, but we wanted an arcane caster type in our group, and the player interested in warforged wanted to play against type. Anvil is alot like a sci fi robot, although he is physically strong, he is an intellectual. I will say this though-we rolled out stats and Anvil came out the best of all of us. Plus as will be shown later, Anvil has a little bit of bad luck in his backstory. 

Our party looks like this for what its worth:

Anvil, warforged wizard 3
Bynara, shifter ranger 1/ rogue 2
Calib d'Medani, human cleric 2/ fighter 1
Dorbo Fodderwig, gnome bard 1/ artificer 2


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## Express (Jul 4, 2004)

*The Investigation (cont)*

I crossed the threshold into the foyer. Bynara closed the door and worked the lock shut. She had turned on a lamp, so despite the curtains being drawn we could see. With a chuckle she folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "Take a look."

The room beyond was a mess, a tumult of overturned furniture, upturned rugs, and strewn books and papers. In its normal state I'm sure the dwelling would have been quite handsome; it had a marble floor, wood paneling, and a high ceiling.The front room even had a fireplace, over which hung a large portrait of Honora. Other doorways led to a large bedroom and study. But right now, it was a wreck.

Either Hennet was a terrible housekeeper or...

"Looks like someone beat us here," Bynara said finishing my thought out loud.

We started to look around. Bynara led me to the bedroom. She had entered by a large window there. She pointed to a small mechanism near the window sill. I could see there was a trap spring. Bynara directed my gaze to a nearby wall. There, mounted even with the height of the window was a small hole. "An arrow trap" Byanra said with a air of profesional knowledge. "The other windows are trapped too. This one's been tripped, the others haven't."

I nodded. Our Hennet was a cautious soul.

We began to search the rooms and there was alot to search. The bedroom and study were both in a state of disarray. The mattress had been cut up. Books, covering subjects ranging from magic to history to religion lay all over the floor. Expensive tapestries, small stautes and vases were knocked over, torn down or broken. Our search took a while.

Bynara dug into the desk in the study while I used my mark. I didnt find sign of anything magic around, unusual considering Hennet was a sorcerer. Bynara found a small purse with gold in the desk. There were also a few papers, mostly letters from Honora. They seemed to correspond quite a bit, and from reading the letters, they were warm and affectionate to each other. There was also a sheaf of a dozen other papers. They each said the same thing:

_*Your fee has been deposited to your account.*_

We returned to the front room. We probed the walls, the floors. Bynara kicked at the furniture. "So what were they after? There's some nice things here, you could turn some good coin from it. Why leave it? What were they looking for?"

I shrugged. The place had a fireplace. Given Breland's usual mild climate this looked like something for show. We searched it for a hidden door or safe or staircase, anything to justify our efforts. Nothing. I gazed at the portrait of Honora, which hung slighty askew. I lifted it, hoping to find a hidden safe. No luck.

Bynara took the portrait. I sat down on the edge of a turned over couch. "So they got along." she said, looking at the picture. "He was wealthy. Worked at Morgarve. Am I missing anything?"

I shook my head. "Morgrave might be our angle. I guess we should check the hospitals in case he turned up dead." I shrugged again.

Bynara wasn't listening.  I looked up and she was hidden behind the picture, holding the portrait in front of her. She pulled out a dagger and began prying at the frame. I looked at her funny.

"The top of the frame is different", she explained, answering my unspoken question. "The frame is darkwood, see? The top isn't, and its loose." She hacked at the frame angling it for me to see.

"It was damaged," I responded. I didn't care if she tore it up, I mean no one would know. It just seemed wrong to deface Honora's picture.

Byanra worked the top, then the left, bottom and right part of the frame off. She held the canvas up. It was stretched and nailed to a wood backing. She cut and pried it off. As the canvas came free, I could see something on the back,and jumped up.

I picked up a table and we spread the canvas out. Words and symbols were written on the back. It was in language I couldn't read. There was a map of some kind at the bottom below the words. It was rough and looked like Breland, but the map wasn't marked, just an outline.

"Its not goblin." Bynara observed. I was terrible at languages so was no help. We spent countless minutes looking at the script, as if we were hoping our force of wills could rearrange the letters into a pattern we could understand.

_Boom_

The sound of something heavy crashing into the door brought our attempt at psionics to an end. I clutched the map and for a moment, we both froze.


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## Express (Jul 5, 2004)

*The Investigation (con't)*

My hand flew to my sword. Whatever was banging on the door wanted in. Bynara took the canvas and folded several times. With a grin she tucked in beneath her dress. "You know," she said sheepishly, "I guess I didn't put the bar back up."

I drew my sword, and looked around. The fireplace was too small to hide in; the kitchen and privy? No help there. The dwelling was a single story affair. I looked at Bynara and she to me, then we scampered back to the bedroom. 

_Boom._ The front door's hinges groaned under the assault. It, he or they were coming in. I followed Bynara through the bedroom out onto the scaffolding.The damned structure rattled and shook. I clung on for dear life; Bynara scuttled back to the front and the balcony. 

"By Olladra, what are you doing, girl?" I cursed,' You're gonna make me.." I choked back my words, deciding it was better to concentrate on keeping my grip. I glanced down; it was along way to fall. I carefully inched my way in Bynara's wake.

Bynara came in sight of the front balcony. A small dark haired man in a drab suit stood there, his hand crossbow at the ready. He levelled it at Bynara and fired. The bolt missed and clattered off the scaffolding. Bynara let loose a goblin curse, and then understandably jumped back and reversed course.

I looked up. The scaffold was divided into sections and extended up in an irregular fashion to the tower floor above. Bynara and I retreated and began to climb. The small man followed.

Being a shifter, Bynara was able to outpace me. She reached the top of the scaffold  before me. I tried to keep up but between the bucking of the scaffold and the wind whistlting across of the face of the tower, my progress was slow. Luckily, the small man behind us was as inept a climber as me.  As I approached the top, I heard a wheezing sound below me. Coming out of Hennet's window was a large big headed man. He was bald, out of breath and looked angry.

I joined Bynara at the window of the apartment above Hennet's. The small man and Big Head were climbing toward us- obviously they had more determination than brains. I pulled my longsword and smashed at the window. The glass gave way and shards flew all about. Bynara went in with me a close second. 

Our pursuers were climbing slow, and hesitated to avoid the shower of glass I had unleashed. I leaned out the window and swing at one of the ropes holding this section of scaffolding to the side of the tower. This got Big Head's attention and he redoubled his efforts. I hacked through two ropes on one side. I turned to the other side and cut through one near a pulley. 

The scaffold wrenched away from the tower. It didn't come apart, but dropped away at a sharp angle. Ropes still held the base of the scaffold, but the top structure fell away violently and shook and twisted. The small man fell first, quietly, with a shocked expression on his face. Big Head held his grip, but couldn't pull himself back up. His weight pulled at the scaffold, and he fell with a cry.

I stuck my head back inside the window. The dwelling was unoccupied, it tenants thankfully gone. It was very much like Hennet's, and I sprinted to the front door and opened it.  As quietly as possible, I crept to the balcony and looked down. 

There, standing in front of Hennet's door was a big half-orc in drab clothes and a stupid look on his face. Like me earlier, he was trying to look inconspicuous. There was a commotion in the plaza below; evidently someone had noticed the half-orc's friend's door breaking routine. In the distance I could see a member of the Watch approaching.

The half orc noticed, too. He looked at Hennet's door. I hid. The half orc mentally struggled to find a plan of action, the difficulty of thinking all over his face. Finally with a grunt of confusion, he walked, then ran down the stairs of the balcony. He vanished into the trees of the plaza in full flight.

Bynara and I waited, smoothed out our garmets, then exited the apartment. Closing the door behind us, we calmly walked to the lift like any other citizen. It was time to get back to the office, no doubt about that.


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## fenzer (Jul 5, 2004)

Express, I like this story.  Your writing is fast and clear. thanks for a good story hour.


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## Express (Jul 5, 2004)

*The Investigation (con't)*

Ya found WHAT!?" was Dorbo's repsonse when we all gathered at the office. The gnome clutched at the portrait hungrily, half listening to our day's adventure.

Bynara and I had been careful on our return home. We were feeling a bit paranoid and  were fearful we might be followed. We took an indirect way back and changed sky coaches twice. We finally stopped to get something to eat, and then returned in the evening.

Anvil and Dorbo were there as well, having returned from the University. Their investigation had revealed a few interesting facts. Honora had given us two names that Hennet was associated with at Morgrave:

*Kasper Guttman, Professor
Lazlo Voren, Assisstant Professor*

Kasper Guttman, according to the University, had recently died while on expedition of Darguun. His corpse had just been returned to Breland. Lazlo Voren was on a leave of absence- had been for three months. That explained the University's lack of help to Honora's queries I guess.

The story about Guttman had checked out; the poor guy was buried in the North Cemetary. Dorbo (ever the prepared gnome) had obtained Voren's home address from City Records just in case; Morgrave had been unwilling to share such personal information. However, there was something else that piqued Anvil's interest.

Both Guttman and Voren were experts in goblin culture and history. They were both specialists in things Dhakkani as well.

"They do work at Morgrave University, that's not too unsual." I responded, still expecting big angry men to burst through our front door. Not my best retort, I admit.

"The two men had offices in the same building at Morgrave." Anvil replied, "and outside their offices there were several small items on public display. One such item was this." Anvil produced the gnoll paw Bynara had been keeping. "According to my discreet inquiries there, this is a trophy gathered by goblin tribes in Droaam, taken during the various periods of tribal conflict with the gnolls. It is, apparently, a sign of martial prowess and bravery."

_Goblins? Gnolls? What in the Five Nations was going on here?_  "When you get involved with Morgrave..." I groaned quietly. Bynara laughed.

It had taken some effort to get that story out once Dorbo had seen the canvas. He and Anvil studied it intently, while I watched the windows. Bynara played with the gnoll paw.

"Oh ya" Dorbo added rather casually, "Our boy Hennet wasn't on the faculty at MU. If he had a job there, no one knew him." He turned back to the canvas.

"This is Draconic." Anvil diagnosed.

"But it makes no sense," Dorbo interjected breathlessly.

"It seems to be a code of some kind." added Anvil, much calmer. 

"The map seems to be the border of Breland and Droaam, I reckon." Dorbo mused. We all looked. I could make out the Dagger River, the Greywall Mountains, Silver Lake. There were marks but nothing was labelled.

We spent the rest of the evening discussing everything. We decided the goons that chased myself and Bynara weren't City Watch- they didnt seem like Watch. But who? We also concluded we knew nothing about goblins.Why would a city goblin have a tribal totem?

I needed a drink.

I didn't like where this was going. Someone had been watching Hennet's place. We decided we should take turns keeping watch at night at the office just in case. Since we had no other leads we should shadow Voren's place. See what he does and where he goes. Once we found something out, we could always get an interview with him. Earlier that day, I might have been inclined to go to his house and politely question him, or get an appointment. 

But now, I wanted to be careful.


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## Black Bard (Jul 6, 2004)

Great writing, Express!!!
Just... smooth...


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## Express (Jul 7, 2004)

*3. Enter the Dragoneye.*

There are a couple of things to keep in mind about Anvil. First obviously, he is a wizard. Being warforged, people have a lot preconceptions about him. People expect a fighter, a warrior, a walking sledgehammer. Anvil, he doesnt meet those preconceptions. He is big, and metal and all that, but he dresses in a purple tabard and robe, carries a staff, and wears a ridiculous hat that resembles a collapsed formless flour sack. He just looks sort of, well- funny. But Anvil is a wizard, and a good one.

Second, Anvil is smart and determined. Once he sets his mind to something, its hard to get him off it. Especially about familiars.

In the time Ive known Anvil, four years, he has had three familiars. All have met horrible, ignoble ends. 

There was the cat Lupo, that somehow got spooked and jumped-not fell- off a skybridge. There was the toad ( I forget its name), that Anvil stepped on during a fight and turned into a pudding. Then, there was his last familiar, the owl Igo. Anvil loves owls, as they are intelligent and noble creatures. Poor Igo flew off on some errand for him, only to get run over by a sky coach. Since then, Anvil had suffered silently and patiently. He wanted a new familiar-and the time was approaching when he could finally summon a new one.

I mention this because Anvil's familiar "anniversary" occured as we took up sureveillance on Professor Voren's home. Voren lived close to the University. His neighborhood was full of inns and shops, and had quite a bit of pedestrian traffic late into the night, with people usually going to the taverns that dotted his neighborhood. We took rooms in  the optimistically named Majestic, a small shabby inn located across the street from Voren's home.

The inn was a disgrace to the House Ghallandra I thought, but it offered the best place for observation. So we took up our station and watched. And waited. Fortunately Voren was at home and still in the city. Unfortunately, he didn't leave his home three days.

So with a lull in the action, and no sign that Voren was going to do anything interesting, three of us were watching Voren's home. Anvil took to summoning on the second day, and in the backroom of our cheap rented "suite" did his thing. 

Now after day one I was beginning to get discouraged; I am not known for my patience. I toyed with the idea of checking on Honora, to see if she was alright, but I procrastinated and did nothing. Finally, on the night of the third day, with Anvil in full swing of his wizard activity, Voren got visitors. 

About two hours after nightfall with a typical spring rain coming down, two goblins knocked on Voren's door. Both the gobs had yellowish complexions and wore light leather overcoats. They each had a short sword and looked unhappy to be out in a Therendor shower. 

Voren came to the door. He was fat and balding, with a long wispy grey beard. He didnt exactly look like the legendary tomb raiders that Morgave is infamous for. The professor wore a garish crimson robe and spectacles, and when he saw the goblins, he was unhappy too.

A few words were passed between the gobs and the professor. Voren retreated into his doorway, got a leather pouch, put on an overcoat. The three then walked down the street and into the rainy night. Following was easy, thanks to the crowds out.

We left Anvil to himself (and with the portrait) and tried to be discreet as possible. Bynara led and Dorbo and I followed her. After 12 blocks Dorbo was breathing heavy, and my armor was getting wet. Our trio walked as if they hadn't a care in the world, then finally got into a covered magebred carriage that was driven by another goblin.

We got a skycoach and followed, and it wasn't too hard. The carriage went across town and into Cliffside, finally stopping in a run down section of warehouses at the base of the city's towers, away from the cliff's edge that gave the neighborhood its name. 

Nearby, traffic moved down the several paths and roads that descended beneath ground level to the dwellings and business that were honeycombed into the cliff itself. Below us, as we descended, we could see the dark ribbon of the river and bay, outlined with the lights of the port. Ships moved up and down the river despite the weather. But as we landed,our particular part of Cliffside looked deserted.

We landed a safe distance away. Through the rain we saw the Professor and his three escorts enter a battered domed shaped warehouse through a large ten foot high sliding door. The door slammed shut and two goblins took up position outside. Guards. We could see rows of small windows running all around the warehouse's length. Most of the windows were painted over or broken, and small glimmers of light leaked out into the dark street. The warehouse stood close to another equally run down building, and except for a single street lamp, the area was quite dark and gloomy.

We stood a block away, peering around a corner, and tried to be brilliant despite the rain.


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## Henry (Jul 7, 2004)

Express, I'm loving the story! Keep it up as long as you can!


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## Express (Jul 7, 2004)

Henry said:
			
		

> Express, I'm loving the story! Keep it up as long as you can!




Thanks. Right now the limit is my typing which sucks. The pace of our actual game sessions- 2 mega sessions not including our Pc creation when Eberron first came out- is actually faster than what Calib has told so far, quite a bit has happened in our game. But trying to organize it all inta a narrative is a bit of a challenge.

Glad its not driving you away at least


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## Mytholder (Jul 7, 2004)

I'm enjoying this too. It's very close to what I want to do in one of my Eberron games.


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## Goobermunch (Jul 7, 2004)

I'm just glad to see that Guttman got his . . . .  Excellent nod to the source material (



Spoiler



Kasper Guttman was the villain in the Maltese Falcon


).

--G


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## Whisper72 (Jul 8, 2004)

Most excellent story so far. Maybe you should apply for the book writing thingy at WotC, where they are looking for authors for the new eberron novel series.... just a thought...

Greetz & keep up the good work


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## fenzer (Jul 8, 2004)

More please.


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 9, 2004)

Express, 

You have another fan! Really liking the way you evoke a bit of _film noire_, and private eye in you story. It's also getting me interested in Eberron...not like we need a new game. 

So is Margarve University supposed to be like Miskatonic U in the Lovecraft Universe? 

Liked the tribute to the _Maltese Falcon _ also


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## Express (Jul 9, 2004)

*Enter the Dragoneye (con't) (a bit long)*

We stuck in the shadows and went behind the building we were peering from. The guards remained under the overhang of the warehouse in a vain attempt to remain dry. No other goblins showed up. We decided to head for the alley.

"Lets hurry" commanded Byanra in a low voice, "you stay here Dorbo-you're as stealthy as a minotaur at a glass breaking contest."

Dorbo glared up through his soggy eyebrows. "Alright, but keep that up girl, 'an I wont be givin ya any potions." He fished into his pouch and produced 2 small bottles. Two invisibility potions. Dorbo grinned.

Bynara shot him a evil look. "Invisibility!" she growled, snatching up the potions "How long have you had these? We could have used them at Hennet’s place."  

Dorbo shrugged, “ I finished ‘um before that girl showed up. Reckon I forgot all bout it in the excitement.” 

We prepared to go but Dorbo reached out and infused Bynara’s armor. “Just in case” he winked, “now git goin’ , I’ll get a distraction going.”

We moved behind the building staying a block from the warehouse, keeping parallel with it for another block. In the darkness we crossed the street to the same side as the warehouse. Clinging to the front of the building there, we crept forward. We stopped, flattening ourselves against the wall. Ahead we could see the guards, their shapes illuminated by the lone street lamp. I mentally tried to calculate the distance of the guards' darkvision. 

From up the street, to the goblins right, a faintly loud sound competed with the patter of rain on the street. It wafted down the street, and it didn't last long. It was the sound of a cow mooing. The guards yapped back and forth. It obviously got their attention.

The two seemed to debate who would get the honor of investigating. The smaller of the two lost and passed out to the darkened street and into he rain. His back was now to us, and he trotted about fifteen feet from the door and stopped, reaching the limit of his interest. His comrade stayed in the door, offering nothing but moral support. But he was looking down the street and away from us too.

We took advantage and slinked to the alley. No one followed so we continued. The alley was just 10 feet wide, if that. The row of painted over broken windows ran down the side here too, so we duckwalked low to stay beneath them. It was dark save for the little light that came from inside through the cracks.

We could hear indistinct talking and laughter from inside. As we moved down the wall the talking became clearer. Finding a spot halfway down we crouched and peered through a couple of coin sized holes.

This limited view offered a selective observation of the proceedings.It was made worse by the position of a few crates between us and our targets. By moving around I could see there about a dozen goblins inside. They each wore a variety of clothes in styles and color ranging from laborer to professional. But all wore some sort of blade and most had armor.The gobs had a bottle and were talking and passing it around.

I saw Voren too. He was seated on a preposterously small stool, drinking an amber liquid from a glass. He was sweating. 

Someone said something and the gobs quieted down. At this point I have to say, as before, that I am not good with languages. In fact, I speak only Common and no doubt you’ll find some relatives who say I am barely proficient with that. This was unfortunate, since the conversations were all in goblin.

My point is, that for the rest of our eavesdropping, I didn't understand a thing. But luckily Bynara did, though she wasn't offering a translation at that point given our circumstance.  The curiosity was driving me crazy.

To me it seemed like an audience. Voren was speaking to a figure just out of my range of vision. I could see this figure was pacing back and forth. I did gather a couple of things though, the unseen figure sounded mad. And Voren, well Voren was scared.

After nearly ten minutes, with my attention mostly turned to watching the street, the get together broke up. The unseen figure finally came into my sight. It was a hobgoblin. He was quite a sight.

He was dressed like a dandy all in black. His coat had wide lapels and silver buttons. He had gentlemans’ boots and a cane. The cane looked as if it was fashioned out of bone, lacquered black. The hobgoblin didnt look like he dressed though, he had a hard cruel look about him.

Then everything happened fast. The hobgoblin held a leather folio and was reading it. Voren said something and the hobgoblin laughed. Some gobs got a small metal box and put it at Voren’s feet. Voren smiled and opened it. Jewels. Of almost every color. Voren closed it and went to stand. Three gobs each hit him from behind with pieces of wood picked up from the floor. Voren hit the floor the same time as the box.

The hobgoblin gave a command , and the dozen or so gobs went to move as one. Then dramatically, he raised his cane and the choir hushed. He said something short and and the gobs cheered. Like a sermon.

The hobgoblin strode to the door, and  an escort produced an umbrella. The jewel box was collected.The rest of the gobs slid the door open and followed the figure in black like honor guard. Just three remained in the warehouse and began to drag Voren’s unconscious form to the center of the empty warehouse.

Bynara tackled me to the ground. “Its a setup,”she whispered, "theyre going to dump him in the bay. The others are leaving.” I snuck a peek inside. The gobs were gathering an old piece of canvas, a length of chain. One of the gobs fetched the carriage that had been pulled inside the warehouse. I nodded. But my curiosity was killing me.

“What about Hennet? Anything?” I whispered, crouched back on the ground.

“Not much. Voren thinks he’s dead.” she frowned at me in the gloom."If you want to know more we should save him.”

I nodded again. I first crawled to the street and looked. I didnt spy Dorbo. The street was deserted; even the guards were gone. The rear of the honor guard was disappearing in the rain, heading toward the river. I rejoined By. 

Inside the gobs had discovered that Voren had some loot on him. They were arguing over it. We hunched and went to the rear of the building. 

At the rear corner I paused. There was a high wall behind the warehouse; the warehouse had no windows or door here. I had to know what they talked about. In the dark Bynara bumped into me. “”What did that hobgoblin say at the end, what was with the sermon?” I asked. By growled with aggravation.

“His name is Koba, damn you standing here in the rain”, she hissed through her teeth.” He and Voren talked about something called the Dragoneye. At the end,” she paused as if trying to remember correctly.” He said”

_*The Dragoneye is ours by right.The twelve houses shall not escape its withering gaze.*_

I had to admit that was pretty dramatic, whatever it meant. 

“Alright then,” I said softly, “ lets collect Dorbo and save Voren. Maybe we’ll get some answers.”

Now in a perfect world, after using a snazzy line like that, with the intention of saving someone from murder and possibly finding a missing brother of a beautiful woman, I would do all that. 

This isn't a perfect world. Bynara and I stealthily moved up the alley back to the street. There I cautiously peered out, and was greeted with a heavy blow to my chest. To my surprise, it wasnt a goblin before me, but a group of metal clad figures. Through my pain I saw they were warforged.


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## Express (Jul 9, 2004)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> Express,
> 
> You have another fan! Really liking the way you evoke a bit of _film noire_, and private eye in you story. It's also getting me interested in Eberron...not like we need a new game.
> 
> ...




Thanks I think Margarve can be that as well as a university for potential Indiana Jones type Pcs. But in the ECS its not exactly the most prestigous institute of learning in khorvaire.


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## Express (Jul 10, 2004)

*Enter the Dragoneye (con't)*

“Yield and live” one of the warforged commanded. “Resist and....”

I knew the rest. There were five of them-big, metal and mean looking. The one talking had a heavy looking mace. The rest held crossbows aimed at us. My chest was on fire. I didnt need to be a cleric to know I wounded pretty bad. 

I slowly raised my hands. Bynara growled but did likewise. I didn’t see Dorbo anywhere.

All the warforged looked very much alike; greenish eyes, no identifying marks, dings on the body plating and no clothing. One of them collected the weapons and gear off By and me, then we were both grabbed and held from behind. It felt like my arm was in a vise. From inside the warehouse I could hear fighting- the warforged didn’t blink. Although usually warforged don't really blink.

“Why are you where? Who are you?” the mace asked. 

“Why are you here!” Bynara snapped, “let us go, we’re citizens....” a crossbow shoved in her face quieted her up.

I was getting ready to protest when a blow to the back of my head turned out the lights.

_I was on the back of Anvil’s giant grey owl, soaring high over the spires of the city. I rose and dipped above the cityscape. Ahead I saw a figure in blue, her azure wings propelling her gracefully across the sky. I followed her but could not catch up. After an eternity she stopped and hovering high above the ground she turned. With open arms she smiled as I sped to her. She changed; before me was a great dragon black scaled and leather winged; its eye fixed upon me and I began to fall earthward._

Some time later I found myself on a cot. There was the noise of music coming from the next room. On the cot next to me were Bynara and Dorbo. The fire in my chest was still there. With some difficulty,I propped myself up on my elbows. My vision swum then cleared and I saw another figure in the room. 

Seated in a chair with his back to a closed door was the half orc from Hennet’s door. A smile split his dumb face as he saw me stir. He walked over and threw a potion to me.

“Drink this,” he said in a deep voice” Boss wants to see you.”


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## Express (Jul 10, 2004)

*Enter the Dragoneye (cont')*

The cure wounds potion helped my pain; Bynara and Dorbo were revived. Neither looked to have been seriously wounded. The half orc opened the door and motioned us out. I could tell Bynara felt naked without any weapons; Dorbo missed his potion bag.

The other room was a bar; a better term would be saloon. It was large and packed with people hunched around small tables. A band played music off in the corner. The smell of booze, cheap perfume, and sweat filled the air. We negotiated our way around a pack of dancing couples and went up some stairs that were above the bar.

The place was rather garish, with red painted walls with fake gold gilt. There were no windows, and I noticed just one door made of iron; there a grumpy dwarf sat with a war hammer at his side. Whenever someone knocked at the door, the dwarf slid a small panel to reveal an eyeslit. Through this he communicated with the knocker. This set up looked familiar.

I soon realized the kind of set-up it was.We were sheparded down a corridor at the top of the stairs. Small rooms led off the corridor. Behind velvet beaded curtains I could see scantily dressed women of various races sitting in these rooms. Most of the women busy were entertaining men. Bynara turned back to me to scowl, Dorbo smirked. Despite our situation I had to chuckle too.

We stopped at a green door at the end of the corridor. Half orc knocked and a voice commanded us to enter.

Behind the desk sat The Boss: a thickly muscled dwarf, with dark hair a short beard and florid face. He had an eyepiece in his left eye and was inspecting a ring. A sombre looking gnome in grey stood next to him, holding a scale. 

The dwarf squinted up at us and smiled. “Take a seat-be witcha ina moment.” He looked back down at the ring, finished his inspection and handed the ring to the gnome. “Tell him ok.” Bowing, the gnome left.

The dwarf got up and came to the front of the desk where he sat on the edge, like a kindly uncle.He was dressed in a black silk shirt, with a lurid purple waistcoat and pants. _He even dressed like a pimp._ 

I also noticed he had well manicured, shiny fingernails. His pinkie nails were long and cut like a talon. I never understood that affectation.

The dwarf studied us.“Glad to see you're up. Sorry bout my boys, but they was just bein’, what you say, thorough. I’m Villovak Runek, ahh but everyone calls me Redblock, this is my joint.”


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## Express (Jul 10, 2004)

*Enter the Dragoneye (con't)*

Bynara looked at him quizically. “ Ya I know girl,” he replied laughing,” I dunno how I got the nickname either.”

Bynara was getting impatient, “Why are we here, are we prisoners?”

Redblock laughed louder. He had a scratchy voice and rough laugh. “Prisoners, naw, not at all. In fact, I was hoping we could come to some sort of, you know, understanding.”

_Understanding? I didnt even know what time it was._

Redblock got a bottle and poured us some drinks. He handed them out to us. “I see in your identification says you're out of the House Medani huh?”  

It did and I was, so I nodded. 

He nodded back. ”Ya I saw your mark too. Why wuz you hangin' round the Gobbos, hum? You aren't working for them ?” The dwarf waggled his head and answered his own question.” Naww Koba don't take anything but gobbos.”

I said we weren’t. I explained we had a case; it was confidential and I didn't feel I should discuss.

“See, now I was sure of that. Ya see?” Redblock turned to the half orc who was stationed in the corner. The half orc nodded his head like a dog. ”That's what I wanted to see- professionalism and confidence. Look, let me get to my point; tell me, you know anything about something called the Dragoneye?”

I shrugged, I was being truthful at least.

Redblock laughed loudly. “Ahah me either. Ya, see I got a problem. Koba that piece of..... (at this point Redblock grunted something in dwarven.) 

Dorbo translated. “Excrement” 

Redblock pointed and affirmed the translation,then continued “Rumor says he lookin' for something called the Dragoneye. He’ s crazy about gobbo history, Claims he's a from a line of goblin kings or whatever they have. He always looking for gobbo junk. So you don't know nuthin bout it?”

We shrugged.

Redblock continued; he talked fast and liked to talk, I could tell that already.“Look Ima businessman. Koba’s been a gnat I can’t swat. He’s popular withtha gobbos, and that makes him big in the Cogs and the docks. He’s gettin alot of power round there, ya get me? And now our businsess interests are, wahtcallit, overlappin’."

 Redblock's face was getting red, his voice building in a creshendo at Koba's description. He didnt like Koba, that was obvious.

Byanra growled, “Thats too bad.”.

“Ya it is. “ He continued on barely taking a breath, his face getting redder.” In the old days I woulda already killed him and his gobbos, but now I got connections, and whatchcallit, responsibilities with some Houses, and they wounldna like it if I started a street war. Got me?”

Dorbo took a drink and leaned forward, “What exactly do you want?”

“What I want,” said Redblock, going back behind his desk, “is for you to look into the Dragoneye thing. Since you seem to be doing somethin’ confidential that involves the gobbos and Koba, I thought maybe our interests, could, ya know, dovetail. If this Dragonthing is some widget Koba wants, I don't want him ta get it, if its a scheme, I wanna know bout it. Ill pay good coin to aggravate and you know, thwart whatever he’s up to.”

I asked why he didn't use his own men. 

“See, now, that's a problem, “the dwarf said, jabbing a thumb at the half orc,” I got lotsa boys on the payroll. But I got quantity, not, you know, quality.”

I considered the half orc. He looked at me through dull eyes, but viewed me like a piece of furniture. Maybe he didn't recognize me from Hennets, or maybe he never saw us. Maybe Redblock was testing us or just playing with us. If he was, he was taking the long way round. Redblock could have killed us already if he chose to. I decided to throw the dice.

“Do you know anything about a half elf named Hennet Onaan?”

Redblock squinted at me. “How you know Hennet?” For a second I thought I’d made a mistake, but he smiled.

“I know the kid." Redblock replied looking at me intently." Hes a good guy; drinks too much and he’s the most unlucky gambler I ever saw, but he’s ok. Whatchu want with him?”

I played along, not sure waht I had done..”Maybe hypotheticlly, we might be looking for him.”

Redblock’s smile got bigger. “Really? Then I think we might be able to do business there kid.”


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 10, 2004)

Yeah, but what about poor Voren?


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## Express (Jul 10, 2004)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> Yeah, but what about poor Voren?




Hmm I wonder.....


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## Express (Jul 11, 2004)

*Enter the Dragoneye (con't)*

Business? 

I sat there trying to take a mental stock of the situation, now that I realized Runek wasn’t going to kill us. He knew Hennet, and it was his goons at Hennets place. I wondered where Voren was, and what happened to those goblins. I tried to figure Redblock’s angle on all this. His dislike of Koba seemed genuine. It didn’t seem like he was lying to us, but something didn't feel right about him. Maybe it was just his clothes- or that fact he talked so fast.

Redblock was still talking, he was a regular chatterbox. I turned my attention back to him. 

“Like I said we might be able to help each other,” Redblock was looking at me “But, whatcha you want Hennet for? This bout money or revenge?”

I informed him it wasn’t anything like that.

Redblock poured another drink, and was actually quiet. He was thinking. “Doesn’t matter I suppose.” he mused. “If you agree to look into this Dragoneye thing , I can point you, how you say, in the right direction bout Hennet. Well?”

Dorbo answered, echoing my unspoken sentiments. “We don’t do anything illegal.”

The dwarf only guffawed. “Illegal? Stealin' from a thief or thwarting the plans of a murdererin goblin don’t really count as illegal, in my book. Its whatchacallit, poetic justice. I need some of that Medani quality work.” He pulled out a big velvet bag. It clinked. “We got a deal here?”

I didnt trust Redblock; I looked over at Bynara to gauge her. She looked skeptical. However, fact was, except for Voren we had nothing on this case so far. In the back of my mind I was wondering what would happen if we refused.

Bynara eyed the bag, “There was a man in the warehouse,” she asked, “the golbins had him. Where is he?”

Redblock frowned. “Oh him? I hope we wasnta friend of yours. ‘Fraid he’s dead girl, just like the goblins. Them gobbos didnt have the good sense to give up like you, and went down to my warforged. Stupid too, considerin how they were outnumbered. But one of them was able to stick him with a knife before it went. A poisoned one. My boys got rid of the bodies so the Watch wouldna have anything to find, but we kept what we found on em. But remember that bout the gobbos; Koba’s boys like poison. ” He winked at Bynara.

Well now we had no leads, and no Voren.

I stood up. _May Dol Dorn protect us and The Keeper stay away._ “Alright, we agree.We’ ll look into this Dragoneye business. Now what about Hennet?”

The Boss jumped up and leaned across the desk, nearly bursting the buttons on his waistcoat. He had a happy look on his face, clasped my hand and began pumping it vigorously. I guess he REALLY wanted to get even with Koba.  I thought he was going to kiss me.

“Well I dont know his exact location, mind ya, but I can tell you this- he was headin for Trolanport.”

Dorbo got the velvet bag of gold. “How do you know?”

Redblock took a big swig from his glass. “Cuz I sent him there.”


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## Heinrich_Uberlich (Jul 11, 2004)

Great stuff Express. But then why wouldn't it be..it's exactly how I was going to start my new Eberron campaign off - with an attractive woman.
Anyway just curious, who is writing this Story Hour, the DM or one of the players? Are you the DM? How do you keep track of dialogue?
I have always wanted to Story Hour my games but I can see that I would need to tape record the whole session to get all the great lines.
HU


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## Express (Jul 11, 2004)

Great minds thinks alike- You cant go wrong with a beautiful woman.

Im actually Calib, which may or may not be normal; Im not sure if alot of story hours are DM affairs. But thats why there's mostly just Calib's point of view. He may not be the hero of our game, but he is the "fiilter" of the narrative, and why he is at the center of so much. Such a limited POV can be both good and bad, I guess, but I find a single point of view interesting.

Re dialogue: After games, I usually have access to the dialogue our DM had set down for NPCs,  most of which he usually prepares ahead of time. Im a pretty compulsive note taker myself. Not all the dialogue may be exactly as its was in game but is prety close. To be sure I cant be as clever as Id like to be at the gaming table   I do jazz it up a little since writing is different from the gaming tables.

So of course a little editing does take place to fit the story hour format. The tape recorders a pretty good idea, although I dont think itd be too popular with my group. But as the game goes on, that might be an option.


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## Express (Jul 12, 2004)

*4. Off On the Road to Zilargo*

We returned to the Majestic. It turned out it was early in the morning, predawn and still dark out.  Anvil was there. He looked concerned; but was happy to see us. We filled him in about everything. 

Redblock had informed us that about a month ago, Hennet had come to him in trouble. Seems Hennet often hung around Redblock’s, he even did a few (as Runek put it ) “jobs” for him. Runek didn’t seem to know all the details of Hennet’s problem, but he attributed it his habitual unluckiness in gaming. Surpisingly, Redblock painted Hennet as a young, idle rich half elf; he seemed to know nothing of any connection to Morgrave University. At any rate, the dwarf  had felt sorry for him and had sent him to Zilargo to run an errand  to get him out of town.

Redblock was so enthused about our accepting the offer he even got the things his “boys” found on Voren and the goblins when we requested them. There were two daggers, presumbably poisoned; some silver and copper pieces, maybe 15 gold altogether; and a shrunken gnoll paw necklace from one of the gobs. There was a small notebook, mostly blank and a key-most likely Vorens door key.

The velevet bag contained about 200 gold. Redblock may have been enthused about us, but he was obviously cheap, even considering, as he said, it was a “downpayment”.

It was late; or depending on how you look at it early. Although we were tired, we put our heads together. Considering it was goblins that burgled our office, I didnt think we should return. We should alert the House superiors about that. A check of Voren’s place couldnt hurt. And I wanted to talk to Honora. But we should be quick about it. We had all agreed to head for Trolanport as soon as possible.

Anvil found all this quite interesting, but as we told our tale, he seemed distracted. Anvil is often hard to read, but he was clearly acting strangely. I thought maybe it was because of his familiar. He had summoned a raven, which surprised me, named Corvo. I thought he had a case of buyers remorse, or the wizard’s version of that. Maybe he was reticent about taking work from a gangster?  Or maybe he felt a bit guilty for letting us go off while he stayed behind. But that was water under the bridge as far as I was concerned; wizards are a bit different, and sometimes you have to just treat them a little different.

 “Don’t worry about what happened Anvil, And I’m sure Corvo will serve you well. I’m glad its still alive.” I laughed trying to lighten his mood.

Anvil looked at me. “I am satisfied with my choice,” he said in his Parliamentarian manner, “and I am sure it shall live to a ripe old age. I believe you should see this.” He handed me a copy of _The Breland Ledger_, the Far edition. Yesterday’s. 

At the bottom of the front page I read the header of the story:


*Chaos at Blackstone Towers! 

Violence Shocker In Exclusive Sharn Lodging!

Exclusive Eyewitness Accounts.

City Watch round up the usual suspects,
as Blackstone officials deny safety concerns*.​

If I knew any other languages, I would have uttered an oath in them. However Common worked just fine.


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## Henry (Jul 12, 2004)

Uh-oh, looks like someone's little exploits at Hennet's place didn't go unnoticed...


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## Sfounder (Jul 12, 2004)

*Nicely Done*

Excellently done.  I second the idea about submitting to the novel idea.  this is well done.  I can't wait to see the rest of it.  Good job and keep up the good work!


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 12, 2004)

Express said:
			
		

> “Well I dont know his exact location, mind ya, but I can tell you this- he was headin for Trolanport.”
> 
> Dorbo got the velvet bag of gold. “How do you know?”
> 
> Redblock took a big swig from his glass. “Cuz I sent him there.”




That is a great set of lines by the Dwarven Pimp. I don't know much about Eberron but is that a character class?


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## Express (Jul 12, 2004)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> That is a great set of lines by the Dwarven Pimp. I don't know much about Eberron but is that a character class?




I think Dwarf Pimp is a Prc


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## Express (Jul 12, 2004)

Henry said:
			
		

> Uh-oh, looks like someone's little exploits at Hennet's place didn't go unnoticed...




Perhaps..Blackstone Towers actually refers to the hotel Honora is staying in. But given that there alot of towers and that was said in passing on page 1 confusion is understandable. 

BTW Henry thanks for the good review you gave my SH last week. I appreciate feedback both good and bad. My writings alot shakier than Id like it to be.And  I never thought Id get 1000 views.


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## Express (Jul 13, 2004)

*Off On the Road to Zilargo (con't)*

Of course I was going to go see her. But how could I have been so stupid? I should have listened to myself when we were watching Voren’s home. 

I tossed the _Ledger_ to Bynara. She dropped the dagger she was inspecting. Dorbo looked at me strangely, still thumbing through Voren’s notebook. I went to throw water on my face, and change my tunic.

‘_The Hostelers Guild will not confirm that the Blackstone’s  fabled security marks and glyphs that guard the prestigious Inn were cirumvented or avoided. A City Watch source, who wished not to be identified, confides initial evidence points to perpetrators who possessed intimate knowledge of the Blackstone’s inner workings......

......eyewitnesses reported several small humanoids quite, possibly goblins or kobolds, escaping in the early hours of Far after an aborted attempt to gain entry to a guest’s room......

......two Blackstone security officers were injured by grenadelike weapons in a chaotic scene..... 

......No injuries amongst the guests have been reported.’_

An inside job. Goblins. I should have visited her or sent a message.

I dried my face. “Bynara, tell me everything that passed between Koba and Voren.”

She looked up from the _Ledger_.” Well, they discussed the Dragoneye; Voren had brought him a book- he called it a codex of some kind, it had a strange name, I dont remember.. Voren had translated it. Koba was needling him. Asking him if he shared his information with anyone else, and if all the pages about the Dragoneye were there. Voren said it was all there, everything to do with the, the prophecy, he called it.” 

Bynara folded the broadsheet and put it away. ”Koba was upset that Voren had delayed for so long, accused him of avoiding him. He was suspicious. He asked about Hennet. Voren said he was most likely dead. Then Voren wanted to get paid, and well you know the rest.”

I was afraid she was going to say that : _He asked about Hennet_.

I adjusted my armor and my sword belt. “So Koba at least knew of Hennet, and he might have known who Honora was. After seeing the paper, I'll wager he knew she visited us.” 

“If this Koba has a following among goblins, even a small following, he has eyes and ears all around town." Anvil added. " Goblins do much of the menial and physical labor in Sharn."

Dorbo nodded.”The burglars in our office. But ya’ve no real proof. That an’ the Blackstone might be coincidence.” 

Maybe, but the way this case was going our luck didnt seem that good.

Anvil picked up the _Ledger_, and scanned it again. “If  the goblins were indeed looking to kidnap or injure the young lady, why did they not attempt to after she left our office?” 

I shrugged.

Anvil nodded. “And this all related to the Dragoneye?”

“Whatever that is," Bynara cackled,"Your theory’s paranoid Calib; I like it.”

I was ready to go, but tired. “Look, Koba and his gobs may not know who we are. I’m going to check on Honora Onaan and get her out of Sharn. I’ll question her some more, and get her on the next rail out.” 

I was thinking fast, trying not to forget anything. “ By, get our office funds out of the bank, as pitiful as they will be. Hustle up some travel papers and alert the House that we’re heading to Zilargo. Ask them to keep an eye on our office.”

I strode to the door of the room and turned to Dorbo and Anvil. “Check out Voren’s place just in case. Everyone get some rest then let’s meet at the Hub by the thirteenth hour. Ill get Honora on a rail and then we’ll check out Lyrandar or Orien for transport to Trolanport. Ok?”

They all nodded. They all looked tired, even Anvil.

“Watch yourselves. Thirteenth hour.”


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## Metus (Jul 13, 2004)

Well, you have another reader, and I have to say that I'm enjoying this story hour immensely.  Others are right when they compliment the writing style; it never bogs down or gets boring.  Please keep the story coming.

I did notice one thing that bothered me when I first spotted it, and was in the back of my mind the whole time for the rest of the story thus far.  Calib has a Medani dragonmark....   yet he is a human.  Did you guys house-rule to allow different races to receive dragonmarks that are unique to only one?


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## Sfounder (Jul 13, 2004)

*Dragonmark*

*Metus* :  Calib is that weird grey area that is 1/4 elven. . . . .


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## Goobermunch (Jul 13, 2004)

Express, your SH is fantastic!  I'm loving it.  And your DM has a great handle for the genre (where ever it appears).  I'm glad to see Redblock!  For those of you who don't know:



Spoiler



Cyrus Redblock was the holographic villain from the Dixon Hill episode of ST:TNG (The Big Goodbye).


.

Thanks much for sharing this with us!

--G


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## Krellic (Jul 13, 2004)

Enjoying your Story Hour very much.  You appear to have done a good job of capturing the Eberron flavour so far.

Well done, I shall look forward to further installments.


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## Express (Jul 13, 2004)

Metus said:
			
		

> Well, you have another reader, and I have to say that I'm enjoying this story hour immensely.  Others are right when they compliment the writing style; it never bogs down or gets boring.  Please keep the story coming.
> 
> I did notice one thing that bothered me when I first spotted it, and was in the back of my mind the whole time for the rest of the story thus far.  Calib has a Medani dragonmark....   yet he is a human.  Did you guys house-rule to allow different races to receive dragonmarks that are unique to only one?




Actually I was wondering if anyone would say anything  I know that a race dominates each House, and they have retainers and hirelings to serve the Houses which presumably can be of different races. I havent really read anywhere that a member of another race could not be a dragonmarked memeber of a House of a different race, although I assume its just implied that the upper classes (with the family blood) of the House are going to be pretty homogenous ( dwarves are going to marry dwarves, etc). Human/half elf bondings might be the exception. Our group sort of debated this. But then we reread the dragonmark feat description and saw it requires proper race/House combination. Did that make sense?

Anyway, Calib is a human because of a mistake early in our game. We debated having a human in a half elf house. I thought it reinforced his illegitimacy, so during the chargen session our group had I created a human (Having an extra first level feat doesnt hurt.) The we re read the dragonmark feat requirement.

Long story short I changed my mind at the last minute, and reverted to half elf. Fast forward to the next week, the adventure begins, we get to the break in of our office and boom Calib is asleep.

Cue rustling of my character sheet. "Im a half elf" I say. 

"Are you sure?" asks the Dm embarrased. He had kept my first human version of Calib by mistake. So I kept Calib a human and put it in the story, sort of as a character quirk- Calib thinks of himself as half elf though human-  and to commerate our games inauspicous start. We are houseruling a bit, but just in my case, and because of how it happened.

As a side note I agreed not to increase the power of the mark to retain his outsider status, he wont be rising to rule his house.

Actually I like that half elves in Eberron are a true breeding race and not just a random offshoot, we just sort of goofed up a little.


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## fenzer (Jul 14, 2004)

Nicely done Express.  Thanks for the hand full of updates.


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## Black Bard (Jul 14, 2004)

Great writing, Express!!!

Just one note: a familiar named "Corvo"?? Does warforged speak Portuguese??


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## Express (Jul 14, 2004)

Black Bard said:
			
		

> Great writing, Express!!!
> 
> Just one note: a familiar named "Corvo"?? Does warforged speak Portuguese??




Naw just the latin word for raven with an o stuck on the end


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## Express (Jul 14, 2004)

*Off On the Road to Zilargo (con't)*

We arrived at the Hub on time. By we I of course mean Honora and myself. Like so many things so far, my best laid plans went awry.

The Hub is actually an exchange, where the Houses Orien and Lyrandar have booking agents, shipping clerks and various other representatives to assist persons seeking transport. Anvil, Bynara, and Dorbo were all there. They seemed surprised when we arrived.

Bynara stared for a moment. “I booked passage on a Lyrandar galleon, the _Swiftsure_. We were fortunate, the ship was delayed taking on cargo. It leaves in an hour.” She fell silent, then exploded. “By The Traveller, Calib what is she doing here?"

The answer was simple. Honora was stubborn. I learned several things in my meeting with her earlier that day. First, Onaan is her maiden name. Her married name is ‘ir Balel, and she is the widow of a Brelish noble. Her favorite color was blue; even today she was wearing a light blue dress. And she was very self possessed, formidable even.

My interview had begun well enough. Honora had looked quite beautiful despite the early hour. She looked more elven than last I saw her, more than I had first noticed. I again asked her several of the questions I had the day she came to our office. The answers were the same. 

No idea of her brothers private life. What he did. Who he knew except for the two at Morgrave. Goblins? No. Gambling? Certainly not.

Did she contact anyone before coming to us? She had arrived in Sharn three days before coming to us. She had sent messages to the City Watch and Morgrave, following up unanswered correspondance she had begun in New Cyre. As usual we werent the first choice.

That didnt sound good to me. Voren could have found out and told Koba. In theory of course.

I informed her she was possibly in danger. And that we were following a lead out of the country about Hennet. She took the danger part quite well, considering. She was concerned for Hennet. And she demanded to accompany us, not return home. 

She made a convincing case, too. She held the purse strings. My charm was of little avail; she refused to consider any other alternative. I chalk this up to the fact that I hadn’t had much sleep.

“Master d’Medani formulated a most delightful plan of action,” Honora explained  to Bynara as the others looked on. She liked to be called Honora. Turns out she was just a farm girl from the Brelish countryside. Well maybe not a farmgirl but a commoner. She didnt act like a nobleman’s widow that was for sure.

Honroa continued.” My servant Marta and I switched clothes. We are close in age, and wearing cloaks, the illusion is quite convincing .” She was smiling as if she was enjoying herself. I felt weak in the knees. “He made a large show at the Blackstone of insuring that ‘I'  received proper escort to First Tower and the lightning rail station there.”

I did make a big deal. The attempted break in had occurred on Honora's floor. Marta had heard something at their lock. Turns out Marta was a light sleeper and literally opened the door on the burglars. Her screams had brought the Blackstone staff running. So much for coincidence. 

Blackstone Towers was so worried about receiving more bad press they acquiesced to my  loud demands. I had earlier noticed the hotel had actually brought in Kundarak specialists, no doubt to help increase their security. After all they hadn't had any incidents of this kind for a decade. To say the Towers was in a quiet state of crisis would be an accurate description.

I made sure Honora/Marta made quite a public show of departing. Blackstone offered the use of Kundarak guards, all eight of her trunks were loaded slowly into a large carriage. Hopefully that would indicate 'Honora’s' lack of interest in Sharn or her brother to anyone who bothered to notice. Marta was quite brave; she had volunteered to help her mistress. Without her the plan would not have worked.

While this happened , I slipped out a service entrance with a female servant in a cloak, and made my twisting way to the Hub.

Honora was beaming. I was blushing and tired. My associates listened and viewed our new travelling companion with polite bemusement.

Together, we five boarded the _Swiftsure_ at the appointed hour. I watched the docks for a long while as it faded out of view, but there wasnt a goblin in sight.


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 14, 2004)

Express said:
			
		

> She fell silent, then exploded. “By The Traveller, Calib what is she doing here?"
> 
> .




I know why Byrna is so miffed. NPCs are such a liablity  [And they steal XP   ]


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 15, 2004)

Very fun and fast-paced writing, Express!  I hadn't given Eberron a second glance, but now I may just have to check it out.  It seems to have a lot of potential for investigating and mystery instead of non-stop dungeon crawls.  Keep up the good work and keep the timely updates coming!


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## Express (Jul 17, 2004)

_*This officially catches me up with events in our game. Next session this weekend. More to follow.*_

*5. Out to Sea*

As the cliffs and towers of Sharn faded from view, we located our berths. Bynara still shot me an evil look from time to time to make me aware of her displeasure over Honora. Dorbo, however was happy, obviously pleased with the idea of heading home. He and Anvil dispappeared as we hit open sea, an arcane cabal of two, off to study the canvas.

All our rooms were separated from a main gangawy belowdecks by a door, constituting a “suite” of sorts of five individual berths  and a privy. The _Swiftsure_ was primarily a cargo vessel, although many passengers had booked aboard the ship. After seeing Honora off to her room, I found my bunk. I was tired and a litle seasick, and soon feel asleep.

A rap upon my door awakened me. Dorbos’ prominent nose and red hair emerged through the portal before I could mumble a disoriented response. He literally bounced inside my cabin, with Anvil in tow.

“We’ve got it. We’ve got it m’boy!” he sang.

I gazed at him groggily. What time was it?

Dorbo sat heavily upon my bed, balancing several books and the rolled up canvas in his arms. Anvil loomed large over me,Corvo on his shoulder. In my small cabin, I felt surrounded. Dorbo thrust the small notebook of Voren’s at me, which I fumbled with.

“This, look here, look!” he said excitedly. I thumbed through the hand sized tome.  It was dogeared and dirty. Several pages were torn out. It was blank save for the last dozen pages which contained numerous small marks, like runes almost, and writing. 

“So what? A dictionary?” I offered.

“No, but close however.” Dorbo was in a state of bookish gnome ecstasy. “We searched Voren's home. It had nothing magical in it, but many books. Voren was quite the polygot. In fact.....”

My eyes glazed over, "The point Dorbo?”

Anvil stepped forward. “Voren had nothing that seemed pertinent to our situation. In the fireplace we found remnants of papers and books, which Voren was in the process of destroying apparently. We found this.” He handed me part of a book.

Inside were similar rune marks with writing , alot of writing. Anvil pointed to a mark. “This is a dictionary. It appears to be a form of pictograph or glyph mark. Quite ancient. Perhaps one of the earliest forms of writing. Dhakkan goblin in origin. The runes represent not just sounds; but concepts, phrases.”

I shrugged.

Dorbo sighed at my lack of enthusiasm, and unrolled the portrait canvas. “When we read th’ canvas writing before we saw it was Draconic. Anvil used _comprehend languages_ ta make sure. Its Draconic no doubt, but seemed ta be gibberish.” He squinted and read:

_Gold riverbank Sivis darkwood swordarm..._

I shrugged again.

The small notebook is not a dictionary,” Anvil replied smiling in his own peculiar way, “Rather it is a catalog. Whoever recorded those runemarks named them, but gave them names in Draconic.  Names incidentally that have nothing to do with their defintion. He pointed at the tiny marks and read the tiny text next to them, “ _Silver,mountain2, Cannith..”_

Dorbo chimed in. “For whatever reason, eccentricity, secrecy, he coded th’ runes. Whoever wrote on the canvas knew the system and recorded in Draconic the runemark names. And’ I ain't convinced it twas Voren who recorded the runemarks, either. The writing in th’ notebook don't match th’ papers we found in his home.”

Anvil continued, “In essence it is a code that is safe against magic means of translation. If one did not know Draconic magic would reveal just a random set of words.”

I held up the canvas; I was awake now. _Why code it?_ “What about the  map at the bottom?” 

Anvil placed Corvo on the bed. “It is not a map,rather a drawing.When I used _comprehend languages _ I was able to read it. Hidden within the drawing there is a rune configuration, which we were only able to find after I cast my spell on it, with the help of the dictionary. It says :” _From your loyal student to my teacher._

“Can you translate the text, or codenames or whatever?” I asked.

Dorbo stood up proudly, and produced a paper. “I’ve already transcribed the runemarks from the Draconic names on the canvas, when Anvil gains th’ use of his spell again, we can read it.”

I inquired as to the time.

“Tha time?” Dorbo answered distractedly, “O umm third hour I believe.”

I ejected the both of them and the squawking Corvo and went back to sleep.


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## Metus (Jul 17, 2004)

Yay!  More story!  Thanks, Express!  

This is quickly becoming my most favorite story hour, and that's saying something since I've read quite a few.  I'm absolutely loving all the characters, with Bynara giving me the most smiles so far.

I anxiously await for more!


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## Express (Jul 18, 2004)

*Out to Sea (con't)*

The following day I awoke rather late. I still felt seasick. I changed and had every intention of locating the galley and getting something to eat.  But I opened my door and ran into Bynara. “Come on", she growled at me, “Anvil’s got the canvas translated. Your girlfriend’s with him and the gnome.”

I began to defend myself against the 'girlfriend' remark but decided it wasn’t worth it and followed her to Dorbo’s room. I was barely able to get into the cabin with everyone there. Dorbo was scribbling on another piece of paper. 

“Honora has confirmed that the writing on the canvas is indeed Hennet’s.” Anvil informed me. I crowded past him and stood near the bunk. It would have been nice if they had asked my opinion about how much we share with Honora. 

Honora smiled radiantly. She was dressed in a gown of deep cobalt. ”Master Fodderwig also showed me the notebook and other materials. The writing there is not in Hennet’s hand.”

I could see Bynara, rolling her eyes.

Dorbo began to read the translation. The words were somewhat formal, which Anvil atttributed to the slightly honorific style of the pictograph/runes:

*Forgive my obliqueness, master. I have of late feared for my safety. I am unable to gain contact with your expedition, so I hope you may quickly find the notes I have left for your return. 

I must flee the kingdom. I fear your assistant has stolen from our work. He is reconstituting the Maal’volar Duurgh’lum...*

Bynara exclaimed something unintelligable, interrupting the reading. "Maal’valor Dur-whatever! That’s the name of the Codex  Koba and Voren were talking about at the warehouse!”

Dorbo wrinkled his nose in irritation and continued: _*..I also fear he has contacted one or more parties interested in the old Dhakkani tales about the Dragoneye and the Culling. I have been suspicious for some time, and I fear he now knows I am suspicious. Already one attack has been attempted on my person, but I have been able to successfully hide myself. The city is no longer safe for me. Seek me in the Land of the Shield in the East.*_ 

That was it. Bynara clucked her tongue, "Land of the Shield in the East?” 

I had questions too, but couldn’t think; it was like I couldn’t breathe in the cabin; my stomach was jumping. I suggested we adjourn to the deck. The others followed me.

Topside, Anvil noticed first. "Why have we stopped?"

The _Swiftsure_ was not elementally powered, however the skill of the Lyrandar windwrights had kept the vessel flying on at a high and steady rate of speed since we had embarked. But now, we were at a dead stop. 

The deck was a blur of activity. There was movement in the rigging and near the bow as the crew worked to tie lines and furl sails.Several crewmen were laboring to pull a small boat to the side of the _Swiftsure_. We also noticed a small knot of sailors on the starboard side of the ship. Then we saw what all the fuss was about.

Several hundred yards away there was another galleon. Its rigging was in disorder, its sails sagged and the ship looked adrift. A blue pennent flew from the top of the central mast.

Bynara pulled aside one of the crew, a ruddy skinned halfling who was looking through a spyglass.“Its one of our galleons,” he explained curtly, obviously unaccustomed to being man handled by a shifter. “The _Zephyr_ from the look of it. No sign of the crew. We’re sending a party over to investigate. Sorry about the delay, but House rules and the Galifar Code of Maritime Law requires that we stop.”

I squinted but couldn't make out any detail. We were out of sight of land, and there was nothing on the horizon. Just two small ships alone on the sea. It was warm and the sun shone bright overhead. My stomach tumbled and churned as the ocean rose and fell beneath  my feet.

I turned to Anvil. “I remember now how much I hate sea travel.”


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## Orvallon (Jul 18, 2004)

Very interesting indeed.  Keep writing!


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## Express (Jul 18, 2004)

*Out to Sea (con't)*

We watched the small boat travel over to the _Zephyr_. Nothing happened for half an hour till the boat returned. One of the sailors scrambled out the small boat, climbed aboard the _Swiftsure_ and hurried to the castle of the ship to speak to an officer.

We decided to eat, so Anvil released Corvo. For a moment I thought the raven would make a break for freedom but the bird simply soared above the ship, eventually lighting in the rigging.

Over lunch, the group mulled over everything we knew. Hennet had obviously fled; to Zilargo according to Redblock. He knew Voren. And he left a hidden message for a friend. But who? Could it have been Guttman? or someone else? Could we even trust Redblock? And what was the Dragoneye? We didnt come to many satisfactory conclusions.

As we finished eating, a young half elf officer in the livery of Lyrandar circulated amongst us. “I apologize, but there will be a slight delay before we get underway.” he announced in an empathic tone. “We are undertaking  a recovery of our sister ship. After some minor repairs are completed, we shall place a skelton crew aboard her. We hope to be back under sail quickly, hopefully  by sunset.”

Well great. More time at sea. My stomach began dancing again.

Time crawled by. Several of us passed the day watching the crew at work. The _Swiftsure_ was brought alongside the_ Zephyr_. Sailors passed between the two vessels; equipment and tools were loaded and unloaded. But we didn’t see any of the crew from the _Zephy_r. This struck us as odd, to say the least.

Bynara attempted to get some information about the situation, but the crew was immunue to her charm. No one spoke about the _Zephyr_, and we were asked politely but firmly to remain out of the way. The work continued past sunset; by the twentieth hour it was going on by lantern light. So much for embarking quickly. 

Honora grew tired. I offered to accompany her to her room; the others remained to watch the activity. It was the only show in town, so to speak.

At her door, Honora paused. “I appreciate being allowing to travel with your party.” _As if I had a choice._ “I am sure your associates are less than thrilled with my presence. But I could not bear being left behind if there was danger to Hennet. I hope you understand.”

I shrugged; I still couldn't look her in the eye.  And I guess I could understand. But I still had questions about what was going on. “Tell me Honora, has Hennet ever been to Zilargo before?”

Honora thought, then nodded. “Why yes I believe so, during the war he..”

She was interrupted as Dorbo came careening into the corridor, red faced from exertion. “Quickly, come quickly!” Dorbo sputtered, as he disappeared in to his room; he emerged seconds later with his crossbow. “Anvil’s bird’s seen somethin in the water.”


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## Express (Jul 20, 2004)

*Out to Sea (con't)*

Before I could even find out what the ‘somethin’ was, Dorbo bounded away and up the stairs. I made sure Honora was safely in her cabin then followed.

I half expected the deck to be ablaze. But everything looked normal.The ships were surrounded by a shroud of darkness;the night as cloudy-even the Ring above seemed faint. On the ships, _continual light_ lamps dotted the rigging throwing light in pools across the deck.

To the starboard work continued aboard the _Zephyr_. But there was no crisis. I figured Dorbo was just overstimulated, what with the translation, the books, and the prospect of going home.

To the port side of the deck, I found the others. They were leaning over the side peering into the water. I tapped Dorbo on the shoulder. “Well?”

Dorbo shifted his feet from side to side. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty m’boy” he smiled, “looks to be just a shark the bird saw.”

“A big one.” Bynara snorted."At least we know the bird can see large objects in low light." She cackled at herself. 

I snuck a peek. It was pretty big. A long grey black shape circled by the waterline of the galleon, occasionally making contact with the side of the hull. Even from above it looked ominous.

Anvil let out a sigh of sorts. “Corvo has been winging about the ship for some time. I had feared he did indeed spy a threat, apparently I misunderstood his intention. He said _fish in the water_.”

I chuckled. “Guess you should have gotten an owl, Anvil. They're smarter.”

I was preparing to head back to my cabin when we all heard a commotion from the direction of the _Zephyr_. There was the sound of running and shouting. Then everything happened at once, or at least it seemed that way.

The thing to realize about the _Swiftsure_ is that, like many of the Lyrandar galleons, it was a piece of art as much as a mode of transport. The _Swiftsure_ had an ornate prow, a carved figure of a half elf female jutting out from the bow. The castle of the galleon was painted in bright blue and white and had an elaborate balcony called a gallery that sat just above the rudder in the stern of the ship. The gallery framed several large windows that led to officers quarters.

I remember reading that many of the non elemental galleons had crews anywhere from 50 to 150 men depending on the voyage, too. The _Swiftsure_ , I reckoned was on the low end of this spectrum, crew-wise.

All these thoughts were passing through my mind as I tried to explain the how and why of the dark figures appearing at the bow and stern of the _Swiftsure_. The figures were dark green with spots on their bodies. Most carried tridents. 

“Fish men” growled Bynara though clinched teeth.

A  hoarse cry went up from one of the crew. “Sahuagin! Sahuagin! We’re being boarded!”

I pulled my sword. "I owe Corvo an apology, Anvil."


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## Express (Jul 21, 2004)

*Out to Sea (con't)*

Corvo cawed loudly and took wing, quite sensibly, to the upper rigging of the ship.

Bynara as usual sized up the situation the quickest. We could see sailors rushing to defend the bow; on the rear upper deck atop the castle we saw at least two of the sahaugin. The deck filled with shouts, curses and cries. “The windwrights,” she said, “if something happens to them, we’ll never get out of here.”

I paused and cast _Bless_, half surprised I still could. Dorbo slung his crossbow across his shoulder and pulled out a wand. Taking a deep breath he began to sing a dwarven battle song. Bynara crinkled her face in distaste; Dorbo’s voice was thin and barely in key. 

She readied her shortbow. “That’s supposed to inspire courage? Let’s go.”

We moved quickly up to the stairs leading to the top of the castle. Bynara and I led. A sahaguin emerged from behind the ships wheel, and met us at the top of the stair. It thrusted its trident at me but missed. Bynara rewarded it with an arrow to the head; I cut at it and the sahaugin fell back with a gurgle.

It was darker on the upper deck, the lanterns where gone. Behind the rear mast we could see four sailors engaged with three of the invaders. But what was worse, I could see two more emerging off to the left, climbing over the railing from the stern of the vessel.

Feeling heroic, I rushed to aid the sailors; By and the others turned their attention to the new arrivals, unleashing a barrage of magic missiles and arrows, both mundane and magical.

I arrived at the rear of the upper deck in time to see a sailor go down. I thrusted at his assailant, opening a deep gash in the monster's still wet flesh. To my surprise, the sahaugin ignored my attack. It reached out and grabbed me, despite holding its trident in one hand. Its grip was surprisingly strong. Then another pair of dark, wet arms seized me, despite the efforts of the nearby sailors to hack them off of me. I couldn’t turn or see what was around me. 

One of them growled in Common. "For the Devourer. Your power is ours." The words lingered in my ear.

My now frantic attempt to get free failed, and I felt myself being manuevered backwards. I was getting worried. I began to shout for aid, I thought I saw Anvil in a blur as I was turned around against my will. To my surprise, no blade or trident finished me off. But no rescue came either.

Then, everything turned upside down as both sahaugin and I, still in their embrace,tumbled over the railing. The darkness of the water below came into view and I closed my eyes.


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## Robbert Raets (Jul 21, 2004)

Wow. I'll say that again, Wow.


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## Henry (Jul 21, 2004)

> Taking a deep breath (Dorbo) began to sing a dwarven battle song. Bynara crinkled her face in distaste; Dorbo’s voice was thin and barely in key.
> 
> She readied her shortbow. “That’s supposed to inspire courage? Let’s go.”




That's got to be my favorite line out of the story yet; In my 23 years of D&D, nobody has EVER critiqued the bard. EVER.


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## rbingham2000 (Jul 21, 2004)

I am liking this story hour so far!


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## Express (Jul 22, 2004)

Henry said:
			
		

> That's got to be my favorite line out of the story yet; In my 23 years of D&D, nobody has EVER critiqued the bard. EVER.




LOL. Dorbo has exactly the minimum ranks in perform to be able to use inspire courage. His questionable singing is part of the reason he's now an artificer.


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## Express (Jul 22, 2004)

*Out to Sea (con't)*

I thought about several things as I fell. It all happened in a matter of seconds mind you, but they each flashed across my mind’s eye. Like how my armor wasn’t going to be much of an asset once I hit the water. Like why the sahuagin were this far away from the Teeth. And if Honora and By and Anvil and Dorbo were alright. Just seconds.

I felt one of the sahuagin let go. I opened my eyes in surprise. I saw the gallery, the stern balcony rising up to meet me. I hit it face first. 

I may have blacked out, or been stunned. But I lifted my self up slowly. My spine felt like it was broken, or at least bent. The other sahuagin had held on, and it now lay next to me looking quite dead. It had several wounds on its body; the fall must have finished it. I stuck my blade in to make sure.

I tried to gain my footing. Water trickled down on my head, so naturally I looked up. Above me were three sahuagin climbing up above the stern windows, using the elaborate carving and scroll work on the castle to work their way up. It looked like a difficult climb, but not impossible. I reckoned I had fallen about 15 feet.

A guttural cry got my attention. Talons bit into my arm; I whirled grunting and swung wildly at the sahuagin climbing up the gallery’s rail. It avoided and ducked below. I retreated toward the starboard side of the ship.

What appeared to be grappling hooks hung from the gallery’s rail. I quickly looked over. Below, climbing out of the sea on thick cables were more sahuagin. In the dark water near the Swiftsure’s rudder I counted almost a dozen heads of the fish men working their way to the ship. 

I retreated further; the gallery wrapped around to the starboard side of the ship; and tripped over the corpse of a half elf sailor, most likely a sentry. The body blocked a low five foot high door that led into the ship. Pausing, I healed myself.

Opposite the _Swiftsure_, I could see the _Zephyr_ about 80 feet away. There were more dark shapes in the water between the two vessels. The clamor of fighting issued from the ship and I saw sailors jump from the _Zephyr_ into the sea. I doubted they would make the swim back to the _Swiftsure_.

I moved the sentry’s body and entered a dark cabin. A doorway led to a lit narrow corridor that ran along the beam of the ship. As I closed the door, a sahaugin passed by the stern window.

At the end of the corridor, the ruddy faced halfling that Bynara had accosted stuck his head around the corner. He had a crossbow levelled at me, and he looked surprised. “How’d you get down here? I thought you were one of those beasts.”

“Long story.” I explained. My spine still felt bent. Ruddy motioned for me to follow.

A couple of gangways later, we joined a human sailor and a half elf officer. The officer was the same one who had passed through the galley earlier with the announcment. He was wounded.

Ruddy saluted. “Don’t see no one else, or fish.” He nudged me. “Mister Albus is first officer.”

“Where’s the captain?” I asked. Albus looked at me as if he was asleep. I repeated the question.

“Gone, sir...dead..” he replied, “the sahuagin took him overboard. We could not get to him..they... came in through the windows. Too fast.”

I could relate. “There are alot of them in the water. I don’t believe we can hold out if we stay here. Are you dragonmarked? Can you get this ship moving?”

Albus didnt seem to hear me. His wound looked nasty; I healed him. “We should leave now." 

Ruddy looked from Albus to me. “The sails are still furled. We'd have to secure from station. “ he said trying to be helpful. Albus muttered and nodded.

My back was killing me. "We should go." I said again, louder. I began to move, intending to check the corridor for more invaders. Albus grabbed my arm.

Either my words or the _cure_ spell had stirred the half elf to action. “What do you mean, sir?” His voice was hard, his face stiff. “Do you intend for us to abandon Lyrandar property, to say nothing of the sailors to brigands and pirates? If that is so, I would brand you a scoundrel sir.”

If he was trying to offend my honor or hurt my feelings, he was picking on the wrong person. “Listen, I have little doubt that these sahuagin aren’t pirates.” I ripped my arm out of his grasp. “They dont care about loot. They just want flesh-yours, mine and the captain’s.” 

Albus studied me, he looked confused as to what kind of cleric I was. I'd seen the look before. 

After a pause, he nodded. "Devourer cult." He said it as a statement, not really as a question. He knew.

Two sahuagin appeared at the far end of the corridor. “Its your ship,” I sighed. “Do what you want. But do it fast.”

----------------
_*Ok all I got so far-our weekend session was truncated because of RL. More to come.*_


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## Metus (Jul 23, 2004)

Second page?  No sir!

Bump!


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## Peterson (Jul 24, 2004)

This is good stuff.

I can't wait for my Eberron game to start - I'm combining a couple of different ideas though, so I'll have to see how this works out.

Might make  a good storyhour.

Not as good as this one though.

Eagerly awaiting the next installment,

Peterson


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## fenzer (Jul 24, 2004)

Express, you have me captivated.  I can't wait to see what happens next.

Thanks for the exciting story hour.


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## Express (Jul 25, 2004)

*6. The Albino * 

As it turned out, Albus was Albus d’Lyrandar and he decided quickly. Moving as fast as possible, he led us to the main deck. Ruddy (whose name I never caught, but was ruddy skinned) played rearguard, firing bolts to discourage pursuers.Along the way we gathered a few stragglers from amongst the crew and passengers.

The main deck was not as chaotic as I thought it would be. Sailors were firing crossbows into the water off both the port and starboard sides of the ship. A few minor melees had formed beneath the main masts. There seemed to be a general scrum going on at the bow. Screams, cries in various languages filled the air; the dead were sprawled about.

Albus began shout, his voice barely carrying over the clamor.. “Into the rigging, get free the mainsail! Make ready to set sail. Move!” Ruddy sprinted off to collect sailors. 

“CALIB!!!” I heard Dorbo’s voice and turned. Above on the upper deck of the castle, I saw Anvil. Or rather I should say three Anvils, magically induced, motioning for me. Bynara and Dorbo stood near him at the top of the stair, their attention fixed toward the stern of the vessel.

I ascended and Anvil turned to greet me.  Corvo was back, now on his master’s shoulder. Bynara’s bowstring hummed as she released an arrow at another fishman climbing aboard.

“I feared you were dead as Galifar” said Anvil calmly, as if we were walking in the park. “But I saw you fall into the gallery. Most fortunate that.”

I nodded silently. Corpses of five sahaugin and two sailors littered the deck. A couple lay near Anvil’s feet; I also noticed Bynara had a slight wound. Things must have gotten hairy.

More sahaugin were climbing aboard. 

“The ships getting out of here once the sails are ready.” I shouted, half explaining the situation.

Dorbo was partly hidden behind the rear mast firing his wand. “Bout time. They keep comin’ on.”

We spent the next few minutes, long ones, holding back the tide. Arrows, _scorching rays_, and _magic missiles_ flew. I had no missile weapon and felt quite (understandably I thought) shy getting too close after all that had happened to me so far. But any sahuagin that got aboard alive I attended to. I even got a _Bane_ spell off. Things were going well. We might survive after all.

Bynara let out a cry. “We’re moving!” I could feel the deck lurch, and turned to see Albus standing near the main mast. Sailors were crawling in the rigging- the mainsail had been loosed, others were working on the topsail. Albus stood with his hands upstretched giving the natural sea winds a little boost; the canvas filled and swelled.The _Swiftsure_ began to move slowly away from her stationary sister.

A few sailors cheered. The fight still continued below, and I turned my attention back to the stern. I heard a great roar as I did.

_Whoa._

Emerging at the rail was the biggest sahuagin I had yet seen. It stood nearly seven feet tall, with a huge head, and pale milky white skin. Unlike the others who had weapons, often strapped to their backs, this sahaugin had none. It didn’t look to need any either: it possessed four arms each ending with razor sharp claws.

Bynara fired an arrow as it appeared, missing. Dorbo struck it with a volley of  _magic missiles_. The creature grunted as it set foot on the deck; it seemed to be more annoyed than hurt. It paused and flexed it appendages, roaring louder. I felt sort of impotent standing there with my sword. The creature looked strong and very angry. It noticed the vessel was moving, too.

I glanced at the Anvils as the _mirror images_ faded away.  Anvil was usually quite unflappable, or at least always appeared so, a trait I attributed to his inhuman appearance. Now, he bore a rather surprised expression on his metallic face. That wasn't a good sign.

The Albino spoke, its words in thick, hissing Common. “Alllll are the gift and ssssacrifice of the Devourer. Drowning giftssss to ussss. Ssssubmit and I ssshall be merciful.”

_Damn the Devourer anyway._ I wished I had a bow.


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## Dirigible (Jul 25, 2004)

> Great minds thinks alike- You cant go wrong with a beautiful woman.




Gzz! Genre! Genre! It's _dame_ 

This is a fantastic story, Express.


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## Express (Jul 26, 2004)

*The Albino (con't)*

_Olladra favors the brave...Olladra favors the brave...._The ancient cants ran through my mind.

The Albino rushed Dorbo, obviously upset at his attack. It collided with the rear mast and swiped at him, barely missing the gnome’s red tinged scalp. Bynara reached to get another arrow. “Get out of the way, you fool.” she cursed. “Can’t you count how many arms its got?”  Dorbo obeyed, backing away like a scurrying rat.

_Olladra favors the brave._

I ran to Dorbo to cover his retreat, causing Bynara curse at me. "I'm trying to shoot this thing damn you!" I ignored By and slashed at the Albino . My blow was rather weak.

Bynara’s arrow struck the sahuagin in one of the arms. The Albino clawed at the projectile stuck in its body, quite unhappy. It growled in its language and looked in Bynara’s direction.

Anvil must have still been in shock,  for his spell fizzled. Bynara nimbly tumbled to stay out of the range of the creature’s arms. Dorbo felt the top of his head to make sure his hair was still intact, and retreated too.

_Olladra favors the foolish._ 

I let Dorbo retreat behind me. I placed a hand on him, and cast _aid_. The Albino was heading toward Byanra, she was still on the move. 

_Olladra look upon us fools._

The chase began across the blood stained deck. The sahuagin’s attention first was cast upon Bynara, whose arrows it must have viewed as an annoyance; most of her shots missed. Dorbo’s attacks with his wand then got its attention, and its talons finally caught up with him, slashing into the gnome’s back. I followed in a vain attempt to cut at the beast, but I was doing little damage. Im sure any spectator to the scene might have found it rather humorous. I didn’t.

_Olladra, are you watching_?

It was a stand off of sorts. The creature didn't do too much to hurt us, although I miscalculated on one go around and got clawed for my carelessness. For the most part, we stayed out of the creatures reach. But we weren't setting the world on fire either. Anvil’s _grease_ slowed the Albino, but all we were doing was dancing with the creature. 

I thought we may need help. But no sailors had come up to the top of the castle. They must have been busy; I was standing close to the ships wheel and it was unmanned. As it stood now, we were under sail, and no one was steering the _Swiftsure_.

The Albino was wounded, but looked to still have a lot of fight in it. I tried to think of a plan. Bynara looked frustrated, Dorbo tired and wounded, and Anvil, well he had a far away in his green eyes.

I attacked again and missed in my pursuit. I heard Anvil casting. Corvo flew off his master’s shoulder and headed toward the Albino. 

_Olladra aids our ill conceived plans, giving fortune to the fortuneless._

Corvo buzzed by the Albino’ head. The sahuagin arms swatted the air, but the small black bird zigged, zagged, and swooped. It cawed and with an outstretched talon struck the Albino’s head. Electricity crackled and surged through the Albino’s body. The shauagin roared, but instead of rage, it now howled in pain. 

Bynara smelled blood. “Finish it!” The sahuagin staggered, and the air filled with the stench of burnt flesh.  Arrows and magic missiles struck it. Inexplicably, the monster stood its ground; it made no attempt to retreat. Instead, it snapped its jaws and flailed violently at Corvo. 

_Olladra..... Somebody.._ 

I moved to attack, shouting in desperation to see the deed done. I thrusted, and saw a dark blur in the corner of my eye. My blade sank deep into its flesh. The Albino ceased its howling and crashed to the deck. 

I checked the stern and saw no more climbers. The _Zephyr_ was now behind us; we were picking up speed. Dorbo limped to the ship’s wheel. I am sure he didnt know the first thing about steering a ship. Bynara put another arrow into the Albino, to make sure.

I watched Anvil, who stood over Corvo’s broken form. The bird was quite dead. In a way, it was kind of funny. I mean, four familiars in four years. But the raven had turned the tide for us. 

Ruddy appeared at my side. “The sahuagin are retreating.” he said to me tiredly. “We’re underway, sir.” 

I just nodded. “Thanks be .....,” I murmured, remembering the beginning of the old litany. _But couldn’t you have watched the damn bird too?_


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## Express (Jul 27, 2004)

*7. Home Sweet Home*

Two and a half days later, with the sun high in a clear sky, the _Swiftsure_ pulled around the headlands and we could see the city of Trolanport off to the north.

To be honest, I wasnt impressed. But then again, I was from Sharn.

We had spent the last two days recuperating and healing. Anvil was quiet, stoically so most of the time. Honora was fine; she had remained locked in her cabin during the attack. To pass time, I offered my services to the ship’s surgeon. There wernt too many wounded, but all told, the ship had lost 19 sailors, either in the fight or on the _Zephyr_.

The _Swiftsure_ passed the Zilargo shipyards as we approached the docks; several galleons were in various stages of completion. The skyline of Trolanport looked downright provincial to me. The Tower of the Triumverate, which Dorbo pointed out to us, dominated the city. I could also see many large buildings dedicated to the various Houses. 

Dorbo was estatic to be home, his chest was literally puffed with pride.“Look at her boy. Ain’t it beautiful?”  

I shrugged. It was ok, I guess. 

Bynara poked Dorbo in the back of the head. “The town's so small, we should find our target in a couple of hours. We might even trip over him getting off the boat!” She laughed wildly.

Anvil remained silent.

The _Swiftsure_ came to a stop. A customs house stood on shore. Beyond I could see the canals and flooded streets of the city; small boats moved slowly down them. It was, well, quaint.

We prepared to disembark. Dorbo was droning on about the city's virtues to Honora when Albus d’Lyrandar approached. He carried a small box. 

“Master d’Medani” he began most solemnly, “On behalf of House Lyrandar, I wish to thank you and your associates for your help in the defense of this vessel. Personally, sir, I also wish to thank you for helping me gain myself in a moment of hesitation. It would have been a grave dishonor for me to not act in a time of crisis.” He handed the box to Bynara.

We didnt open it there. It seemed impolite somehow. Albus was quite grateful however, he even told us to call upon him if we felt he ‘could be of service’. Something like that was always good to have in reserve.

We got our gear, and Dorbo led us through the dockside crowd. We needed to find a hotel and begin our search. I was glad to be back on land. We started to head for the nearest canal to grab a boat.

Bynara had to look in the box, however. She stopped by the Customs House, opened it and shrieked. “Pearls! Alot of them!” She danced a jig, much to the bemusement of the locals.

By the Customs House, we noticed a large crowd gathered outside of the building. They were all looking at something posted on the big glass window. I couldnt see. Bynara was still dancing. Dorbo stopped a young gnome with canary yellow hair and asked him. In Gnomish, I noticed.

“That? Didnt you hear?” he replied in Common. The boy looked at us with a sly grin. “Where you lot been? Someone stole an airship from its construction yard. The government and Lyrandar’s gone half crazy looking for it.”


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## Peterson (Jul 27, 2004)

Express said:
			
		

> I watched Anvil, who stood over Corvo’s broken form. The bird was quite dead. In a way, it was kind of funny. I mean, four familiars in four years. But the raven had turned the tide for us.
> 
> Ruddy appeared at my side. “The sahuagin are retreating.” he said to me tiredly. “We’re underway, sir.”
> 
> I just nodded. “Thanks be .....,” I murmured, remembering the beginning of the old litany. _But couldn’t you have watched the damn bird too?_




Wonderful.  I especially enjoy the little bits of dry, almost Bogey-like humor you seem to toss in.

R.I.P. Corvo

Peterson


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## Express (Jul 28, 2004)

*Home Sweet Home (con't)*

_*(Thanks again for all the feedback everyone, more coming. Trying to make sense of my notes)*_

The impact of the airship theft to the locals became evident to us almost immediately; the customs officials were quite careful in checking our travel papers and identification. The gnomes were polite and friendly, but eyed us warily. 

After finally recieving the official’s blessing, we passed away from the docks and crossed a red bridge. At a landing Dorbo hailed a small flat barge coming down a narrow canal. The craft was rowed by a gnome from the stern with a long oar. We piled in and Dorbo gave him direction, “To the Quayside Hotel.”

Trolanport was neat and orderly, clean. Considering its in a nation of gnomes, I guess thats to be expected. But it wasn't sterile, the city was colorful and many races walked the banks of the canals.

Odd thing to me, other than seeming empty compared to Sharn, the whole town just seemed to be sinking. So close to sea level, and on the coast with flooded streets, Trolanport looked like any moment it would disappear beneath the water.

The Quayside was near the center of town. It was a big white building, rather utilitarian looking. Inside it was full of halfling staff, and looked to be comfortable, if not luxurious. We noticed one wing of the building was sized differently than the rest of the building, to gnome/halfling scale. 

Once in our rooms, we discussed our plan of attack. Redblock had sent Hennet to Trolanport to transport a crate of books to a book dealer named Gyger, who had paid a hefty sum for them. At the time, we thought this was an odd errand. Turns out Hennet was smuggling not transporting.

“The books by an artist, whatshisname, Orfis. Antique, collectors stuff,” Redblock had explained rather vaguely. Dorbo had laughed at the mention of the name, loudly and for a long time, until he was red in the face. Luckily Redblock was amused by Dorbo's guffawing.

Orfis, it turns out, was an artist from a century ago who specialized in pornographic woodcuts and racy prose. His books may have been collectors items, but the Zilargo government forbade their importation. I had to admit, Redblock was at least consistent. 

We decided to question Gyger and if that didnt pan out, to check the taverns.We began to leave and Honora met us at the door. She had remained silent during our discussion, just listening. I noticed she was out of her travelling dress and was wearing a pale blue outfit of commoners clothes. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bynara said icily.Anvil and Dorbo eyed Honora nervously; they recognized Bynara's tone. So did I.

Honora began to protest, and I stepped in. I didn’t think it was a good idea that she went with us. It took some doing but she relented. 

In a way I felt quilty; she had heard us discussing her brother here and on the ship. Based on what Redblock had described, Hennet wasn't like she remembered him. I wouldn't have wanted to be left behind either.

“Just stay here, “ I posed it as a request, not a command  “it may not be safe. We won’t be long.” 

“Don’t need you in the way anyways,” shot Bynara.

It was time to go.


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## Metus (Jul 31, 2004)

I love this story hour!

Bump!


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## fenzer (Jul 31, 2004)

Lots of updates.  Good stuff Express, thanks.


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## Sidekick (Aug 2, 2004)

Hey Express, I'd just like to say th at this is one of my favorite Story hours.  All I bother to check out is this, Medallions and the DoD (PirateCat's updated story hour).

Oh and bring it on.  This story hour has made me want to get into Eberron!


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## Broccli_Head (Aug 2, 2004)

Express said:
			
		

> “Don’t need you in the way anyways,” shot Bynara.
> 
> It was time to go.





Hmmm...what's up with Bynara....Jealous much?


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## Sidekick (Aug 7, 2004)

Bump.  This SH is too good to languish on the second page.

Up to the top thee goes


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## Son_of_Thunder (Aug 10, 2004)

*Excellent!!*

Express,

Well done. I will add my appreciation for the story. It has become my favorite over Sep's and Piratecat's.

Again, Well done.


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## Zen_Pollo (Aug 11, 2004)

Express,

Great job!

I this SH >> All!


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## Henry (Aug 11, 2004)

Express, You're about to get your first one, are you ready? Here Goes...

Great story hour, but why no update in a while? Huh? Huh? DETAILS! _Gimme more story hour!!!!_


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## wizardneedsfood (Aug 12, 2004)

Henry said:
			
		

> Express, You're about to get your first one, are you ready? Here Goes...
> 
> Great story hour, but why no update in a while? Huh? Huh? DETAILS! _Gimme more story hour!!!!_





Amen


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## No Way (Aug 13, 2004)

Great story hour. I do not ask for more updates, I demand them. Dont make me write to my local congressman.


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## Zen_Pollo (Aug 17, 2004)

Hey,

I just want you to know that your work so inspired me, that I have decided to start my own Eberron storyhour!

Great Job!


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## Ashy (Aug 18, 2004)

Express, this SH soooooo rocks!  I WISH I could write like you!   If you have not jumped into that WotC Eberron novel contest, DO SO NOW.  

My hat is off to your DM, your players, but most of all, YOU for writing this!

Now, gimme some more!


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## Metus (Aug 24, 2004)

Another bump.


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## No Way (Aug 24, 2004)

Sadly, it appears express has abanonded this SH. :'(


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## Peterson (Aug 25, 2004)

No Way said:
			
		

> Sadly, it appears express has abanonded this SH. :'(




_*NOOOOOO!!!!*_

  

It can't go away, I like it too much.

I command it to *stay*.    

How's that work?   :\


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## Ashy (Aug 25, 2004)

Who said????   *I disbelieve!!*


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## Black Bard (Aug 26, 2004)

Let`s wait for the _raise dead_ , comrades!!!


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## Allanon (Aug 28, 2004)

Noooo!!!, I just spent a good deal of time reading this complete storyhour and then it stops? This is worse than Farscape being canceled prematurely (well, not quite as bad, but you get the point  ). Express, please come back and finish, I need my storyhour fix *badly*


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## cmnash (Sep 2, 2004)

I just bought the Eberron Campaign Setting and was trawling the SH boards for Eberron stories ... and found this gem of an SH

Please don't say it's stopped ... please ...

Come back Express!


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## Son_of_Thunder (May 3, 2005)

Bump!

Come back Express Pleeeeeaaaaasssee!


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## Ashy (May 3, 2005)

I second that emotion!!!!


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## Sfounder (May 3, 2005)

Hells yeah.  My next campaign is going to be Eberron, and I'm making a list of required reading and viewing for the campaign.  I'd like this Story Hour to be on the list due to it's excellent depiction of the setting.


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## Son_of_Thunder (May 6, 2005)

*Bump*

Just a bump. Hopefully the author will see and post.


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## Son_of_Thunder (May 10, 2005)

*Bump*

Express dude,

Are you there? Please? Anyone?


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## Son_of_Thunder (Jun 14, 2005)

*Bump part II*

Bump Part II


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## Express (Nov 23, 2005)

*8. Back in Black*

"..get up Calib, wake up" A hissing voice entered my mind.

It was Bynara's.

I awoke and had to blink my eyes. It was dark, and for a moment I thought I was blindfolded, or perhaps I had gone blind. I struggled but soon realized my hands and feet were bound quite tight. I couldn't see anything. 

I rolled onto my back. Giving up on my fruitless attempt at escape artistry, I moved slowly to right myself and sit up. 

"What..where?" I asked, my words slurred. I had been laying face down. My face was numb.

Byanra brushed up against me. "Don't know. Probably a couple hours. I cant see anything-haven't heard anything either."

I nodded though no one  could see. "The bookseller.. ooooh damn."

Bynara let out a low mocking laugh. "Yes. And next time Calib, how about we follow my plan of attack?"

I nodded silently in the darkness.


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## Express (Nov 24, 2005)

I could hear By fuming in the dark. I ignored her and try to look around. Try as I might, I couldnt get my eyes to adjust. Magical _darkness_ probably.

"You had to look at the scroll, didnt  you?" came Bynaras whispered accusation.

I shrugged. It was pretty stupid. No doubt if Anvil ever found out he'd give me a severe lecture on the perils of looking at unknown papers, and artifacts.

"Well, since you are here, you probably looked at it too." It was the best defense I could muster. "And it wasn't the scroll, it was the brass inner case" I added weakly.

We fell silent. The case had proabably been trapped- or warded . We both had read the words on the metal scroll casing. 'Xoriat' was one the words, after that, well...

"I thought I was turned inside out before it knocked me out." Bynara whispered, her tone softening slightly. 

I could only agree. It had been rather nasty. "Gyger begged us to leave it alone. We should have listened."

"Grrr" hissed Bynara, her soft tone disappearing. " and we had him too! If I see him again, Ill.."

I lay back. The dark was all around me. The room seemed empty but small. Cool and damp. Not unexpected since Trolanport was full of canals and water. As Bynara continued to growl, I closed my eyes and thought back on the last week, trying to calm myself to our current predicament.


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## Express (Nov 25, 2005)

The plan, as I may have mentioned earlier, was to hit the taverns or hotels to see if Hennet had been seen by the locals. Gyger's bookshop would be checked too, to see if he had seen our target. Simple. Easy.

Of course, no one in town it seemed, had apparently seen Hennet. For a half elf that supposedly drank, he didnt frequent any bars. He didnt seem to have a room in any known hostelries. But he had to sleep somewhere.

"If he's still in town" Byanara remarked sarcastically after three days.

And Gyger's shop? Closed.

Gyger's shop was a real poser. The place was closed for days. It sat on a narrow street overlooking a old canal, sitting snugly amongst antique and curio shops. Gygers shop was almost ridiculously narrow like all the others on its canal/street. It also had  second story that leaned out over the first, giving one the comical impression the whole thing was leaning froward ready to tumble into the canal.

Gyger's absence made me a little paranoid. However,the proproetor of the neighboring bric a brac shop, a rather elderly female gnome, informed us after a few casual inquiries that Gyger was a rather poor businessperson, prone to coming and going at odd hours. His shops hours of operation, she sniffed rather snobily, were "erratic." She also disliked Gygers physical appearance, giving us a very detailed verbal potrait of him. She used the word "greasy" quite a bit.

The only good side to this dearth of progress was that I got to spend time with Honora. We split up into smaller teams for the legwork as the days went on. At midday I was usually able to manipulate the others into going out, while I promenaded along the canals with Honora.

 I find it difficult to describe Honora. Quite attractive obviously. But as I spent more time with her it seemed that she was somehow greater than the sum of her parts. Her eyes, hair the blue gowns she wore, that wasnt just it. There seemed to be an aura around her that somehow reduced my powers of observation and reasoning.

Honora and I sat on a bench on a corner near Gygers after five days in Trolanport. I was engaged in discussing Hennets trips to Zilargo in the past with her, while watching the bookshop. That was really just a facade, I was paying nearly all my attention to her.

"Of course Hennet always put on that his work for Breland was quite mundane." Her voice was like a choir. "I fear though that his duties were more dangerous than he ever put on."

I nodded. I had no idea what she was saying, really.

There was a rough tap on my shoulder. It was Bynara, her voice rather hard and cold. I didnt turn. I didnt care at the moment, looking at Honora.

"You should pay more attention. Its a good thing I came along."

I turned around, though I still didnt care.

"Gygers turned up. He's opening his shop now."

I looked. A greasy haired gnome of rather average height (for a gnome) in a brown suit was opening the shops front door. I cared now.

"*WE* should go." Byanra said rather pointedly.. "Anvil and Dorbo are checking out the travel aganecies to see if hes left town." Her gaze rested on Honora. "You should go back to the hotel."

I sighed. But I had to agree. Honora should go just in case. Now rather familair with our routine, she went with little protest and By (now happier) and I entered Gyger's Book Emporium.

The gnome was placing books down in a back room. We saw him through an open door. The shop was cramped with many shelves lining the walls and two book covered tables dominating the room. A small aisle more or less down the center of the room led toward the back. Very narrow stairs to the right led up toward a darkened upper floor.

The sun shone through the front window as the gnome came out to greet us. "Ahh yes, how may I help you?" He smiled a warm broad smile from under his greasy brown mop of hair.

Bynara handled a nearby book. "Are you Gyger?"

He was, he happily informed us. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" he asked trying to be helpful.

I took a step forward. "Not something, someone." I smiled trying to be non threatening. "Do you happen to know a half elf by the name of Hennet? Has he been here recently?"

The warm broad smile vanished. Silence.

"Who are you?" he asked. He looked nervous.

"Just someone looking for Hennet. Redblock sent us-he said that he had sent Hennet to you." I smiled bigger now.

"Redblock? Your not from... ?" He stopped talking. I thought I saw sweat froming on his forehead as he looked up at me.

Bynara groaned impatiently. "No, relax, we dont care what your business is here. We just want to know if Hennet has been through here lately." She scowled.

Scowling aside, By's words seemed to confuse him. Then he seemed to relax. "Of...of course, yes he, he was here. But I havent seen him for sometime."  

I asked if he knew where he might have gone to. Gygyer smiled a greasy smile. He did. He thought he had written it down- in case he had work for Hennet. It was he said in his office.

I folded my arms quite happy as he padded back through the door. I could see Gyger at his desk opening drawers. I shot a rather superior look at Byanra who was slightly behind me. _You need to work on your diplomacy_ was the unspoken message.

Bynara's look to me communicated something quite undiplomatic right back.

I turned  just in time to see Gyger reach up to the wall next to his desk. He looked straight at me,  and pulled on a low mounted light fixture.

And he disappeared into the floor.

Bynara and I collided in the doorway as we raced to the desk. Below us was an open trapdoor which revealed a chute sliding down into darkness. Damp air streamed up from above.

I started a curse but Bynara was already jumping feet first into the chute.

I closed my eyes and followed, again.


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## Express (Nov 25, 2005)

I should have known better really. The nation of Zilargo is full of gnomes all dressed in big hats, outlandishly colored, garish clothes. Gyger wore drab brown, unusual for a Zil. I should have guessed something was up.

Bynara was waiting for me, looking unhappy. She was striking a sunrod, filling the dark space with illumination. She was also stooping, the room was gnome sized.

I landed amongst a pile of cloth stacks that formed a makeshift landing area. The only exit was gnome sized leading out into a darkened passage. Large enough for us to walk through stooping, we wouldnt break any speed records.

Ahead we saw a faint light moving away from us, it distance hard to gauge. By's hand went to her weapon as she started to move.

"Careful" I offered, "we dont want to kill him."

"If I bang my head on that corridor too many times," Byanara said already moving away, "Ill gut him like a fish."

We half duck walked as fast as we could in pursuit of the faint light. The corridor remained straight for perhaps 100 feet, then abruptly turned to the left. It emptied into a larger tunnel, a kind of roundish drainage tube. Ankle deep running water covered the tunnels floor.

Gyger was ahead not 30 feet away. He was fumbling with a key to a heavy metal door. Bynara ran at him quickly, splashing. I followed. "Gyger stop! We just want to talk!"

_Dont hurt him too badly Bynara_ I thought as water splashed up my leg.

Gyger lunged quickly away from the door, his time up. By dived to tackle him but missed. As she sputtered to rise, the gnome feinted toward me. I took a position to block him and stop him from running down the other end of the tunnel. Gyger bandished his feeble little lantern like a weapon, but kept a distance.

"Wait, Bynara!" She ignored me and went for a tackle again. She got a hand on him, but the gnome managed to wriggle away. Gyger size was working to his advantage, and he kept away from me.

"We dont want to hurt you" I said trying to reason, "we just want to talk!" I could see anger growing on Bynara's face. She dropped the sunrod, and circled to get position and trap Gyger in a corner. She was going to shift, Id bet the farm on it.

"I dont have anything of value." Gyger said in a pleading voice. "I've done nothing wrong...and and I'll sell to Brody if he wants."

_Huh?_

We were getting nowhere. I motioned for Bynara to hold. I cast *Command*. Gyger had no place to run, but began to dash like a wild animal. He dropped his lantern in the water.

But the spell succeded. 

"Halt." Gyger did and Bynara grabbed up the gnome with an evil laugh. 

He came to his senses soon enough. Bynara held him and I began to search him.

"Why'd you run? We just want to know about Hennet." I found a small keyring and, tucked rather akwardly in the suits outside coat pocket- a  black scroll case.

"Nonono, please" Gyger pleaded "Ill give you money leave the scrolls, dont open it, dont rob me,no."

"Stop whimpering idiot" Bynara snarled, rapping him on the head with her knuckles.

Now of course when someone tells you not to touch something or look at something the opposite usually happens. I should know better. Here I am, a member of a House and a fine profession. I should have left it.

But did I? No.

"Leave it be, Calib." Bynara commanded, "give me a hand with this fish, lets go back upstairs."

I opened the case, nodding. There was an inner case made of brass. There were raised words shaped on the brass surface. It looked old and quite well crafted. The words looked painted in dark black.  Despite myself I formed the words written there in my mind......



Bynara sniffed in the blackness next to me. "I might be able to get out of these bonds, its just rope. I wonder were we are?" 

I didnt answer. Someone, somewhere on the other side of the darkness was opening a door.


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## Fimmtiu (Nov 25, 2005)

Good to have you back at it, Express. Keep it up!


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## Express (Nov 26, 2005)

Light, to my surprise, leaked into our room as an unseen bolt slid free. So much for magical darkness. The doorway now was outlined and stood out amongst the black, and a small figure stood in the threshold.

But it wasn't Gyger-it was Dorbo.

"You!" exclaimed Bynara. "Where's Gyger? How..."

Dorbo laughed, the lantern in his hand quivering as he did so. 

"Stop your blasted guffawing and get us out of here, blast you!" spat Bynara.

Dorbo wiped a tear from his eye. "Ahh I'm glad ya both in good shape, I am truly, but tha sight of ya..ya look like ah couple o trussed pheasants!" More laughter.

Bynara growled, and Dorbo produced a small knife from amongst one of the many pockets on his artificers vest. As he worked on our bonds Anvil appeared in the doorway. It was a regular reunion.

 I made a half hearted attempt to rise. "Where's Gyger? Is there anyone out there? How did you get here?"

As it turned out, we owed or rescue to Honora. After getting shooed away by Byanara, she had lingered around a corner watching us enter from a safe distance. She stayed for well over an hour until she saw Gyger exit the shop and lock the door in a hurry. She scampered back to the Quayside hotel.

Unfortunately Anvil and Dorbo were still canvassing to find Hennet. From the look of Dorbo they had also done some shopping. He had a new set of tunic and trousers in a vibrant green I think is only native to Zilargo. The clothing possessed a weird black thread swirl pattern. Like looking at the stars, it grew more vibrant when you looked away from it. But most egregious was the wide broad brimmed hat he had acquired, green with a huge black feather.

"You look like a peacock, gnome." Bynara observed as her wrists were freed. Dorbo doffed his hat in manner befitting a courtier.

"We arrived back out our lodgings by dusk." Anvil said, continuing the story. "We found the lady Honora in a rather upset state. She related the situation, so we made our way here as quickly as we could."

"Aye, an' with tha door bolted there was na to do but break in. Twas risky, but we waited till night's dark an used a spell on tha front door. Luckily tha neighborhood was empty mostly. Quite a chance-most eyes in Zilargo would go straight to tha authorities quicker'n spit."

Night? We had lost track of time.

The two had searched the building. It was deserted. "With just one way out, an knowin Gyger's shady side business, was jus common sense ta look for a hidey hole. Took forever an had to use a scroll but we found it."

"Bill me," I said "go on".

"We wandered through some of tha tunnels," Dorbo explained as he adjusted his hat. "Got thru a big metal door easy with a nother scroll." Dorbo held up two fingers to emphasize his sacrifice to the cause. "Ran into a nasty mastiff and took care of him, an after that we found you."

Anything else?

Anvil looked at me mournfully. "Well yes, I suppose." he said in a deep but hesitant tone.

We were led into the tunnel. It was full of crumbling masonry and the ceiling sagged. I saw to our left an intersection of tunnels. To the right Dorbo motioned us to a dead end and to another room.

"Ya best look in here," he said, stepping out of the way.

By and I stood in the doorway. Beyond we  observed a small litle storage room. One corner was full of stacked crates, books and sacks or various sizes. Most likely a pile of swag. A chair stood nearby. Bynara gasped. She actually gasped.

We both saw the face we had seen before in a potrait. Where before he had been youthful looking and vibrant, he now looked haggard. Still handsome,he had red rimmed eyes that no longer had a jaunty aspect to them- they now looked at us with a wild stare as if we were figments of his imagination.

"By the Traveller, Dorbo" Bynara gaped, "you two found Hennet."


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## Express (Nov 26, 2005)

Hennet gazed at Bynara with a haunted look. "I know, I know, I know..so much I do not know yet...we must find, must find, must find.." His voice was creaky, unsteady and terrible to hear.

"Whats the matter with him?" I asked. "Was Gyger keeping him prisoner? Did he do something to him?"

Dorbo was already looking through the loot pile. "Dont seem tha he did. Tha door was'n locked an he wasnt tied up or anything." Dorbo looked over his shoulder. "But he wouldnt say anything tha made any sense ta us. His mind is just, well gone."

Bynara moved slowly to Hennet and sat upon the edge of the bed. She placed a hairy forearm tenderly on Hennet's shoulder. Hennet didnt react.

She can surprise you. Most of the time shes downright feral, sarcastic. Looks like she'd kick you then look at you. Then, all of a sundden, like with Hennet, shes a different person, comforting him like a mother hen.

"Xoriat" Bynara whispered, looking at Anvil. "We read that accursed word on a scroll Gyger had. Ive heard tales from the Eldeen druids-madness, twisted, terrible things. Do you think Gyger...?" She stopped speaking, her eyes full of pity of Hennet.

I filled Anvil and Dorbo about our end of the adventure in the tunnels. Anvil digested the story silently, his face grim. Dorbo continued to look through the pile of crates.

"Well, if he was dabblin in something nasty like that it aint here, m boy." Dorbo wheezed as he moved a crate. I went over to help him. "Lotsa illegal books and such, maybe a ledger. Heh, Gyger has a nice little racket goin' on here. He's got customers from here ta Korranberg." Dorbo shrugged. "Ahhh but he looks mostly small time." 

Bynara stood, concern all over her face. "Forget that. We should get him out of here. We've accomplished what we were hired for.. lets just go." 

I had to agree. There was no telling if the gnomish police wouid arrive to wisk us away to prison. Id heard about the Trust and they took a dim view of things like burgalry.

"Come on Hennet," By said tenderly" we're going to go. Your sister will be happy to see you. She sent us to find you." No reaction. "Understand? Your sister Honora was looking for you."

Hennet stiffened as he jerked away from Bynara. But the wildness, the crazy left his eyes, replaced by sadness. 

"What do you mean?' he said calmly and slowly. "You are  mistaken. My sister is dead."


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## Solarious (Nov 27, 2005)

Oohh... Cliffhanger and Plot Twist in the same breath!

These are the signs of a good writer. Looks like I'm going to have to keep reading this from now on...


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## Express (Nov 27, 2005)

Thanks for the feedback. I apologize for leaving in a lurch last year. RL and computer problems plagued me, but I should have left a note or something. At least having a cold and the holiday weekend give me time to catch up. Hopefully my idiosyncratic writing and terrible spelling wont drive anyone away


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## Express (Nov 27, 2005)

*9. Of Mice and Men*

I stood silent for a moment rubbing my left ear. I could feel the slight scar on my ear lobe. It was all but invisible but it was there.

 When I was younger, before I was formally recognized by my House, the Baron thought it a good idea for me to be given a more elven appearance. A very talented magewright doctor was found and with his expert ministrations, I got a new pair of ears. Whenever I feel that scar, it always reminds me that things arent always as they seem.

"Hennet, what do you mean your sister is dead?" He regarded me now, calm. "Ive met Honora, spoken to her, you mean another sister, right?"

He shook his head, then lowered it. He refused to answer anymore questions, he just went back to the crazy eyed routine.

"Dorbo, you and Bynara find some rope. Unless you and Anvil found another way out we'll go up the chute." I looked at Hennet- he looked out of it. I wondered if he was acting. "We may have to carry him."

"Time to go." I steadied Hennet-he was shaky. We danced with him for several minutes while he mumbled to himself. _"The Dhakkani Dragon. Its wings its eyes its breath. Together, together, together."_ 

Again and again and again.

He was hard to manuever and uncooperative. Even with Anvil's strength, it was slow going. We hadnt even gotten out of the room. I leaned against a wall, frustrated. 

"Perhaps it would be simpler if I rendered him unconscious" Anvil proffered, annoynace registering in his voice.

Before I could answer Bynara came running back down the tunnel. "We have company."

Dorbo scampered up behind Byanra. "Oh no! The Trust! I knew it! We were ratted out! We're sunk."

Bynara shook her head,  "Don't think so, I saw one through the open trapdoor. Its a human."

---------------------
*
EDIT: Attached a few minature "portraits" of our PCs. Some dont match up but are similar enough. Ill get around to char sheets someday*


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## Express (Nov 28, 2005)

"This just gets better and better, " I said as I turned to look over Hennet. "Whoever it is, being here at night probably means theyre up to no good." I shook Hennet but he still seemed insensible.

I looked at Bynara. "Please tell me our visitor is alone." 

A shrug was my answer. "Now that we've got our package, better to be safe than sorry." 

I had to agree. "Dorbo lead on. You've been through more of these tunnels than me or By. Anvil, pick up Hennet. Slug him if he resists. We'll straighten this out later. I hope there's another way out of here. Let's go."

Of course with Anvil lugging around a crazy half elf we went slow. By and Dorbo led and I trailed in the rear behind Anvil. I had no idea where we were, but did recognize one junction as being behind the metal door Gyger had tried to open. It was dark but luckily the tunnels were large enough for us to navigate standing up.

It seemed that Gyger had made his little hideaway in part of a deserted sewer of some kind. The tunnels were in poor condition, full of turns and mortared up dead ends. After several minutes of heading in a general downward direction, the sound of rushing water filled our ears. Here our tunnel joined into an open vaultlike room.

The room's walls were lined with sets of unmoving gears. Below us, down five steps, a waist deep trench carried water swiftly past us to our right. The water travelled down the center of the room and disappeared under an open sluice gate. Some 20 feet above and opposite us there was a railed ledge near the vaults high ceiling. An old rusty ladder connected the ledge to the trench. 

Dorbo looked at Anvil, perplexed. Over the rush of the water he shouted. "Didnt come this way before. Might be a gravity pump station drainage thingee. Keeps the canals from overflowin, I'd reckon. Or somethin." 

I frowned at Dorbo. "Its your town. Think it drains to the outside? Or maybe the ladder goes to the surface?"

Dorbo looked down at his lantern, blushing. "Technically Calib, I'm from Korranberg. I guess so. Eventually." He smiled.

Bynara pulled at my shoulder. I looked where she was pointing. A light could be seen moving on the ledge above. Ahead of the light a vast swarm of rats poured over the ledge's edge into the trench. The black furred rodents covered the wall as they splashed into the water, to be carried away by the current.

We ran back into the tunnel. But coming from the tunnel around one of the many corners we had turned came a new sound. Voices reverberated up toward us, barely audible amidst the rushing water.

Dorbo looked up at me. "Im guessin this a bad time ta tell ya I cant swim?"

No choice. We headed back toward the trench.

We all did, that is, except for Bynara. 

"Im tired of running." She said in answer to my look. "We've been running, hiding, gotten tied up and generally been chasing our tails ever since we got this job. I'm going to get some answers."

I sighed. "We dont have time for this."

Bynara ignored that and went by me. "Dorbo, give an invisibility potion." Taking it, she pushed me. "Go on, I'll get a look at who's here. Ill join you. Dont worry- I wont stay long. GO!"

It was a command. I saw her shift. I wasnt going to argue. 

I grabbed Dorbo. Anvil was already heading for the water. We dived in too.

The trench got deeper as it went toward the sluice gate. The current picked up and soon I could no longer touch the bottom. We cleared the gate and the flow entered a low ceilinged tunnel. Soon, other tunnels fed water into ours. And as more water flowed in, we began to pick up speed.

Dorbo yelped, a look of terror on his face as we passed through a logjam of rats bobbing on the surface of the water. As I tried to keep him afloat, he let go of the lantern and put a deathgrip on me. I struggled to keep from being drowned by the manic gnome, my mouth filling with rat flavored water.

Ahead Anvil floated unconcerned, despite that rats. With seeming ease, he held onto Hennet.  

Luckily, the water level never completely filled the whole of the tunnel. And there were several bends in the passage that helped us slow our momentum. But loud clangs filled the tunnel as Anvil bounced off the walls. I was having trouble staying in the center of the tunnel as well. 

My arms grew tired as I tried to keep Dorbo's head above the surface. Dorbo thrashed in my grasp. It seemed to go on forever. We were either going to get drowned or battered to death.

Then the ride stopped.

We collided with a large metal gate six feet tall. The impact took the wind out of me. Dorbo clung to my leg and I slowly realized the water was pulling him down. Grabbing a bar of the gate, I retrieved the gnome with my free hand. The water loudly swirled and foamed as it poured through the gate's bars and into a pool some ten feet below.

And I could see the night sky.

Anvil got my attention. Above there was a gap between the gate's bars and the top of the tunnel. We began to climb, both of us pulling our respective loads.

We squeezed through the gap, Anvil having the tightest fit. We half climbed, half fell over the opposite side falling with little grace into the eddyl below. The noise of the water subsided as we swam to the edge of the pool.

I looked up as I pulled Dorbo to the pool's bank. The night was dark and cloudy, the Ring faint in the sky. We had been ejected from an opening in the side a flat topped mound. A squat dark tower sat atop the mound. The rest of the pool was lined with trees and a canal ran away out of the pool. But we were outside. And it was quiet.

Anvil got to the edge first and rose to his feet, water pouring from his metal exterior. He silently scanned the area. "It would seem the area is not populated" he stated in low voice as he wrung out his tabard. I noticed his arm had been damaged.

Dorbo hauled himself onto the earth, breathing heavily. Hennet was along side him, looking no worse for wear, considering.

"I've lost..my hat." Dorbo moaned. 

"And I my staff." Anvil added.

I looked back to the metal gate below the tower. That wasn't all we had lost. "C'mon Bynara. Where are you?"


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## Express (Nov 29, 2005)

Long minutes passed. Anvil sat to allow Dorbo to repair his arm. Hennet sat nearby watching. The swim seemed to have sobered him up, for he sat quiet.

I had to do something. "Dorbo, when youre done get to the trees. If something happens at least we wont be sitiing out in the open." I adjusted my armor. "Im going to look around."

Dorbo nodded. "Dont worry m'boy. I'm sure she's alright."

I hustled up the slope of the mound, water squishing in my boots. Above the clouds parted to reveal Lharvion, the Eye. The superstituous thought this moon to be a baleful influence on the world. Its slitted pupil stared down at me as I crested the top. If I believed in such things, that couldn't be a good sign. 


The tower's door was chained shut. Its windows darkened. No one was home.

On the other side of the mound sat Trolanport. The mound, the tower and the pool all sat on a small raised plateau. From the lights on the Tower of the Triumvrate I could guess we were still in the eastern part of the city. Though I couldnt see Gyger's street we couldnt be far from it. If our visitors figured out where the sewer emptied out to, it wouldnt take long for them to travel to here.

Above Lharvion seemed to blink as the clouds engulfed it again.

Damn shifters.

I scrambled back down the mound. I found the others in time to hear a splash in the pool.

Bynara swam to us. She emerged from the water, her wet mane of hair thick over her face. 

"Did you satisfy your curiosity?" Anvil asked, gingerly moving his newly infused limb.

Bynara shook water from the matted patches of fur on her forearm. "Yes. And dont worry, they didnt see me." She grinned toothily.

Well? I witheld the urge to strangle her.

"Five of them. Four humans and a half orc. Theyre pros too. Can tell by the way they move. Well geared. Combined arms. Got a couple of big guys, an archer, a spellcaster, even a healer I think. They were quiet. I got real close though."

"Damn Bynara," Dorbo exploded "Did they see us?" He was ready to go. "Any idea who they are?"

By gave a playful shove to Dorbo nearly knocking him over. "Relax, I dont think they saw us."

Her face turned serious. "One of them had a real nice sword. Big. On his back. Gold, silver, jeweled. Had a crest on the hilt. Got a look at it."

My heart began to sink.

"Draggone. And a star. House Tharashk, I'm positive."

My heart sank.

"Bounty hunters.""


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## Express (Nov 29, 2005)

*10. Intermission*

Stop me if youve heard this one before. A guy meets a girl. Girl has lost brother. Guy and friends look for brother. Along the way they encounter a hobgoblin dandy , a dwarven pimp, flesheating fishmen, and a greasy bookseller. They find the brother who, incidentaly, is crazy. There is also a possible problem with some bounty hunters but lets set that aside for a moment.

Did I mention the brother thinks his sister is dead?

Except for the the sister being dead or the alleged bounty hunters this would be a happy ending, right? Mission accomplished?

We made our way back to the Quayside by boat. We tried to avoid crowds, not hard to do so late at night. By had covered our tracks (literally so) at the pool. We all looked quite a sight in our damp gear. But the night was warm, which helped.

We did pass a member of the Trolanport constabulary. He graced us with a polite but lingering stare as if studying us for some impolitic movement to allow him to arrest us. Or maybe we just looked odd. But he tramped on, tipping his hat. Perhaps people fell into the canals all the time in Zilargo.

We had all agreed to say nothing of Hennets statement about Honor's being dead to her. Hennet was not right in the head, that was obvious. And call me cyncial-I wanted to see how their reunion would play out. Honora's aura ensarned me everytime I saw her, but business is business. And there were still some unanswered questions in my mind, loose threads.

Honora was waiting as we opened the door to our room. A look of relief washed across her face. Then she saw Hennet.

She rushed to him embracing him silently. Hennet reacted slowly, recognition finally crossing his face. Without a word, he slumped to Honora's feet, sobbing.

Honora comforted him then looked to us. "I cannot thank you enough, Calib. You..your associates..words cannot express." She fell silent, looking at me with a weepy smile. 

Technically we had done the job. We could get paid now. I still had questions and not a few worries.

But it could wait until morning.


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## Dæmon (Nov 30, 2005)

> But it could wait until morning.



Heh, statments like this usualy preclude payment.


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## Express (Nov 30, 2005)

I awoke the next morning to the sound of rain. Looking at the timepiece on the wall I could see it was nearly midday. I was hungover.

Last night or (earlier that day, depending on your view) the four of us had stayed up late drinking several bottles of the excellent Anduairian wine Honora had ordered by way of celebration. It was a subdued affair, but still a celebration.

She and Hennet had retired much earlier. Even though we had warned her of her brother's mental state, she had still been in fine, albeit, weepy spirits.

In the common room into which all our sleeping rooms joined, I heard the familar sounds of Dorbo's hammer. 

At a table, the gnome was hammering out loose clasp on his vest. Various bottles, vials, and other miscellaneous pieces of his property was spread out in front of him. I pushed this deitrus out of my way and sat down, reaching for the bottle of Bluevine. I took a swig of the dregs. Dorbo didn't look up.

Anvil stood at the room's window, motionless, staring out at the rain as it speckled the glasspane. He likewise ignored me.

A new copy of the Korranberg Chronicle was lying amongst Dorbo's junk. Its headlines caught my eye:
*
No Leads in Theft of Experimental Airship
Lyrandar Captain Rumored Missing*

I scanned the story for a moment. I was still being ignored. "Morning, gentlemen." Another swig. "Where's By? And Hennet?" I swiveled my head. "And Honora?."

Dorbo arched an eyebrow without looking at me. "Oh..out."

I put the bottle down with a bang."Out?! What do you mean? Why wasn't I wakened? Dorbo, we haven't collected yet." I was sort of sputtering. "Besides, its not safe. Did you forget we are the Warning Guild?-inquistion, detection and PROTECTION! This doesnt seem very protective to me." I was concerned, but not necessarily for the reasons that came out of my mouth.

"Settle down, boy. Its been a long mornin." Dorbo sighed, putting down his hammer. He wore an annoyed look he always got when his hammering was interrupted. 

"They were all up early. Hennet was talking a bit more today..he's wasnt making much sense mind you. But it seems he was concerned bout somethin he left in a vault box. Got sorta agitated,  an it took all of us ta keep him from boltin out tha door or hurtin himself. So By escorted em to the Kundark branch. It calmed him down. Besides, you were like tha dead in there. Don't think you woulda been of any use."

Confronted with this truth, I just stared. But I didnt have to like it.

"Now calm yourself. There's a Kundark branch is just round the corner. Anvil can see if from that window for Onatar's sake." Dorbo tossed a wadded piece of paper at me. "It seems that Hennet didnt have anything on him but this-"  Scrawled upon it was a word I couldnt read. 

"Draconic" Dorbo explained. "Its his vault security box keyword, or so he recollects. So they went to get it. And they havent been gone but a quarter of an hour."

"Ogre's teeth" I grunted, taking another swig. "Any idea what was so important that it couldnt wait?"

Anvil turned from the window. "A dragon."


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## Express (Nov 30, 2005)

With that, the room's door opened. Brother, sister, and shifter entered, slightly damp. Hennet held a large parcel, squarish, wrapped in yellowed copies of the Chronicle, tied with twine. 

Bynara's eyes met mine. "I see youre up."

Hennet placed the parcel down heavily on the table. Dorob's junk bounced slightly as the parcel landed with a thud.

"Its eyes," he muttered, "Its wings.it..its breath..Everything is so jumbled.but.....Honora trusts you...I..." He stooped and sank into a nearby chair. 

We all gathered round. With eyes shining with gnomic delight, Dorbo cut the twine with his knife. He tore greedily at the paper. For a moment it seemed that that was all there was- old news. 

I took another swig.

Finally Dorbos little hands pulled a dull black figurine from the tatters. It was a statue of a gaunt emaciated dragon, just under a foot high.

The dragon squatted on its rear legs, its atrophied wings pulled over its shoulders and back like a weird cape. Its front claws were tucked into its chest. It deep hollowed eyes sternly gazed at us over a long skeletal face.

"The Dhaakani Dragon," Hennet rasped from his chair. His eyes were seeing but not looking.


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## sandtiger (Dec 2, 2005)

*Wow*

This is fantastic.  I stumbled across this gem the other day, and it engrossed me so much I completed it in one sitting (at work no less).   You should listen to the other folks and seriously consider writing as a career.

You would definitely be one of the people I would plunk money down to read.

Please keep writing.   I don't even want to speculate about this story, I just want to enjoy the writing/characters/pacing. 

Okay one speculation --- Maltese Falcon?

Sandtiger


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## Express (Dec 2, 2005)

Thanks. I think the writing thing is a bit beyond me, but it is fun to try to piece together a game into a story narrative. The noir ish aspect is alot of fun to play in which is kind of the appeal of Eberron and its "magic as science vibe"- you can be a little more  anachronistic than you can in say, Faerun.

As for the Maltese Falcon, that is a definate influence of the dragon, so good eye  Our whole game idea going in was noir/ Indiana Jones type pulp action. Whether we can maintain that or that I can write it like that remains to be seen. Since D&D is fantasy some of that can only go so far.


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## Express (Dec 2, 2005)

Anvil and Dorbo began an excited and detailed inspection of the figurine, as Bynara looked on distastefully. "Aren't dragons rumored to be noble looking or something? That thing looks grotesque."

"Is it ceramic?, no clay.... what is the best way to determine age? A few slight cracks, some stippling..." The artificer and wizard were completely absorbed in the dragon. There was talk of _identifying_ and _detecting_. 

"Heard of it?" I asked the pair. "The name, I mean. The Dhakaani Dragon." Both mumbled a negative response, their attention still firmly fixed on the figure.

I stood staring at Hennet. He looked worse than the day before. My mind went back to the word I had been avoiding since I read it: Xoriat. The Plane of Madness.

I'll admit it- I am no astronomer, no charter of cosmology. After all, I can barely handle this plane of reality. But like most people on the face of Eberron, I know a few things. Its cold in Risia. Dark in Mabar. And Xoriat is very, very bad.

"Hennet," I asked "Did Gyger do something to you? Did he have help?"

He looked at me, words formed in his mouth, but caught there. He struggled to form a response but none came. Hennet wasn't going to be much help.

"Hennet" It was Bynara, softly. She knelt by him placing her hand on his. "You said that Honora was dead. You see her, don't you? You know shes alive? What did you mean?"

Honora looked at me confused as Hennet began to stammer. "Yes, I know..I was confused before. Its all so jumbled, you see. Honora is here I can see that now. My sister is ..here." 

Hennet was definately going to be no help at all. If we wanted to know anything we couldnt ask him. We would have to find out for ourselves.

I put down the wine bottle and began to concentrate,my hands and words moving together. Divine energy filled my body. I closed my eyes and imagined a cone of energy spilling forth toward Hennet. Anvil and Dorbo's chatter ceased. Honora stood by her brother, calming him, but Hennet didnt stir.

An aura appeared, then formed around Hennet. It was very strong and bright, but beyond knowing it was there, I couldnt determine anything. Except it was powerful. But having seen Hennet, one didnt need a spell to know that.

I sat down. Dorbo went silently back to his study of the figure. Honora became concerned. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"He is under the influence of magic, perhaps an enchantment, or a curse." Anvil answered, gravely. "We could seek aid at a Hospital, assuming the Healers Guild has someone of adequete skill in Trolanport. But the aura appeared to be most potent. And Trolanport is rather...small."

Dorbo glared at Anvil for that last remark. "Be that as it may," he said rather sullenly, "that's not th' only thing magical here. I've given this thingee th' once over. Its got magic properties, it does. Dont know what it does, but there ya go." 

We all fell silent, thinking. Dorbo waited for a response to his announcement, then with a grunted *hurmph* began to search through the figures wrapping.

Honora broke the silence. "Master d'Medani" she began. "Calib." That was better, and I smiled. 

"You have, all of you, rendered a great service to me and have of course completed your commission." She placed her hand on Hennet's shoulder. "However, from what I have gathered of the situation in Sharn, and given my brother's condition, I would ask to retain your company's service. I would ask for your protection until we may cure him, or if possible, to find the cause of Hennet's state."

To my surprise, Bynara answered for us. "Of course." Her face wore an expression of pity.

We decided to call for food to be brought up for lunch. By we, I mean everyone but Dorbo, who continued to fidget with the dragon while looking annoyed over his artificers skills being unappreciated and his nations capital denigrated. The service at the Quayside was quite good, and food quickly arrived, borne by a couple of livired halflings far too cheerful for the mood of the room.

Dorbo stopped us before we could clear the table to eat. Amongst the tatters of the Chronicle that covered the figure, he had discovered a wadded up letter. As he smoothed it out, deep fold lines and a broken seal of wax were revealed.  

"That imprint is tha seal of Morgrave University," he informed us as he squinted at the paper.The address written on the paper was Hennets apartment in Sharn.


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## Express (Dec 2, 2005)

The letter was written in Draconic. It was dated from about four months ago. Anvil took it and read aloud, slowly :

*Hennet,

I hope this letter shall be well recieved. I ask only that you put aside any acrimony that may have resulted from past quarrels. If I may be so bold, your old teacher requests a simple favor.

Please safeguard this crate, which, Onatar willing, the caravan drivers have not destroyed or lost. The workers the Finders Guild have secured are quite untrustworthy and the environment here is rather dangerous. My mind would just rest easier if it were safely out of the field. 

I would of course normally send such items to my office and  not bother you, but I feel I cannot leave this to Voren. He is an able scholar, but he has become rather unreasonable in recent months. I hope you would take this task as an honor, for there are few I could so entrust with items recovered from an ongoing excavation.

Though you may be weary of hearing my ramblings, I have reason to believe the figure is an actual representation of the Dhakaani Dragon. Its resting place was quite remote- a deep, natural cave. Twelve such figures- all identical to this one- populated the chamber. All the others had sustained varying degrees of damage, but the one in your possession was the most pristine. I simply had to secure it for further analysis. I needn't explain such things to you, of all people.

You will doubtless notice the second smaller sealed box. Please do not interpret this as a rebuke on your honor or as mistrust on my part. I merely wish to keep this item preserved from the elements.

While it may amount to nothing, what I have found here may shed new light on the Traitors. There will be much work to do when I get back. Much of my old findings will need to be reviewed. I shall need your cryptographic talents lad,  so consider coming back to work with me.

My dear Hennet, I know that the war left a heavy shadow on your spirit. However, I feel, as I have said perhaps too strenously and too often, that your talents are wasted in idleness and mere observation of life around you. Travel and drink are fine things, but you have squandered too many years. 

Please think seriously about my offer. Write if you can, but bear in mind my response may be slow.  Given the remoteness of our location and the unpredictabilty of many of the clans in Darguun, I dont know when we shall be able to make back to Rhukaan Draal to meet the caravans. 

You were my favorite pupil. Make an old man happy. I shall return in a perhaps two months, earlier if I can manage . 

Yours,

Kasper
*


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## Solarious (Dec 2, 2005)

Twelve dragon statues? Where is the thirteenth one?


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## Express (Dec 3, 2005)

I dont know what you mean 12 or 13 has absolutely no meaning in Eberron


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## Express (Dec 3, 2005)

*10a. Better Living Through Planning*

I stood staring at the letter as Anvil placed it back on the table. "This does establish that Guttman and Hennet knew each other." he mused. "And that Voren was associated with Guttman. I wonder how well Hennet knew Voren?" 

And Koba, I thought. Someone knew Honora was in Sharn. Did Hennent know Koba too? 

I sighed, my head full of names and faces. "Ask him. Good luck with that."

Anvil did ask Hennet. About Voren, Koba, dragoneyes, sealed boxes, Xoriat scrolls, and Gyger. He also asked him to name the capital of Thrane. The answer to all of these queries was labored silence.

Honora gathered Hennet. "I think he is tired. Perhaps if he tries to rest, he could answer." With a wan smile, she lead him to her bedroom.

We cleared the table to eat. Bynara gingerly took the _Dragon_ and, draping a linen napkin over it, carried it to a corner. She placed the shrouded figure on the floor, and returned to the table, were she began to eat rather greedily. Anvil stood apart, and turned to the window to observe the rainfall.

"If we are to truly protect him," I began, "the wisest choice may be to return to Breland. We're away from home here, and we don't know our opposition."

Dorbo shook his head. "Well, as I see it, we've got a few things we can do here in Zilargo." he paused, stuffing a bit of roast beef in his mouth. "Like, there's alot of terms thats come up that I dont understand. Like that _Dragon_. Or the _Traitors_, or tha _dragoneye_ or the..." Dorbo searched his vest to retrieve a note..." a ya, tha _Maal’volar Duurgh’lum_...." He shrugged. "I tried  some research while we were coolin our heels here in town. But Ive found nothin."

Dorbo waggled his hand at the _Dragon_ in the corner. "And that widget must be somethin. If Guttman was a Morgrave Professor he must known it was magic. Got ta be tied up in this too." Dorbo let a long moment pass, as if he forgot what we was talking about. Then with a twitch of an eyebrow he started again.  "I'd like ta send a message to tha Korranberg Library, go straight to tha source and get some info. I still know a few people there, 'haps they can get the info quick, if we spend some extra coin."

He shot me with a conspiratorial look." Though I'd prefer to do tha research myself."

I shook my head at the last part of that. This wasnt the time for sidetrips.

"I knew we kept you around for some reason gnome." said Bynara, her mouth full of vegetables. "We shouldn't run, Calib, not if we can help," she added, as food dribbled down her chin. "Besides, it means more gold."

And just when I thought she was going soft on me.

I poked at my plate. "If we decide to stay and seek a cure for Hennet, we should check out the Healing Guild here. While I agree that they may not be able to help, it would nice to know whos after him. If his condition doesnt change, we arent going to get anything useful from him.Its worth a try, at least."

Anvil turned. "Yes. But I feel the scroll is important. In my opinion, the reference to Xoriat cannot be coincidince with Hennet's current situation, given that planes nefarious reputation. If we  couldrecover that particular item, things may become less confusing." 

Dorbo shook his head enthusiasically at the word 'scroll'.

I had collect myself. Anvil, as I may have mentioned before, is a creature of few words. This was the most he had said in several days. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Gyger." Bynara interjected with a clank of utensil on plate. "That worm is tied up in this I'll bet. He did something to Hennet. With the scroll, or with that Finders Guild group, maybe. Wouldnt be surprised if he's mixed up with those city goblins back home. We should find him, and put a hurt on him till he talks." She went back to eating.

The vote was to stay. Unanimous even.

"Alright." I said standing."We''ll find the Hospital. All of us will go. Dorbo- send your message before we head out. I'll stow the figurine in my vault box. Then we'll try to retrieve the scroll. There is a chance that Gyger isnt a hundred miles away by now, I suppose. We can check the store again or try to locate his dwelling. If we cant get a handle on things very soon, I say we go back to Breland and regroup." 

Bynara looked down at her now empty plate. "Retreat? Bah. We might get lucky. Lets draw some attention to ourselves and make whoever's behind this show themselves. I say we set Dorbo down naked in the middle of town as bait and see what bites. "

The room filled with the laughter of my group as I went to get my gear ready.


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## Solarious (Dec 3, 2005)

Express said:
			
		

> I dont know what you mean 12 or 13 has absolutely no meaning in Eberron



 What? You seriously believe that? Unless you're being sarcastic... Alright, let's put it this way.

*12+1*

That's a pattern that resonates repeatedly in Eberron. Twelve planes surround Eberron... plus one that was blown off orbit. Twelve Dragonmarks... plus one that has been 'exterminated'. The two major patheons: The Soverign Host and The Dark Six. Count'em. There's fifteen gods in the divine 'family'... until you take into account the fact that The Shadow is Aureon's literal shadow (and therefore almost the same person), and that The Traveler has no connection to the rest of the family. There! That's a 12+1! *points an accusing finger at it* There are 12+1 different established powers for an Abberant Mark. If you squint hard, there is a 12+1 in the Thronehold Accords: it recognizes twelve nations, and number 12+1 would be dead, blasted Cyre. Heck, there are thirteen Dragonmarked Houses, except that two are really halves of one that have a 'disagreement' with each other.

You cannot deny the evidence! 12+1 exists! It cannot be kept a secr....

*notices shadowy assasins behind*

*I WILL NOT BE SILENCED! THE TRUTH SHALL PRE*VA... Ghackk.... *thump*


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## Express (Dec 3, 2005)

LOL. Yes I was being sarcastic. 

Wait-I mean, sarcasm? I dont know what you mean.....


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## Solarious (Dec 3, 2005)

Express said:
			
		

> LOL. Yes I was being sarcastic.
> 
> Wait-I mean, sarcasm? I dont know what you mean.....



 *rises as a zombie*

Yessss, masssterrrr..... [zombie groan]


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## Express (Dec 4, 2005)

*11. A Slight Detour*

The plan was a litle weak, but we had all agreed on it. We explained to Honora. She looked tired but promised to stay locked in the room with her brother. I hadnt properly thanked her for her help back at Gyger's. Id have to remember to correct that.

Ideally, I would have taken Hennet to a Medani safe house. But the guild didnt have an outpost in Trolanport. I mean, Trolanport is the capital of Zialrgo, a center of trade and shipbuilding, and all that, but the gnomes here were so peaceful and industrious. If you wanted intrgiue, political, arcane or otherwise, Korranberg was the place to be. 

Dorbo, of course, took forever to compose his message for the Library as the rest of us loitered in the lobby. Bynara didnt help matters by checking constantly on his  progress.  Absent mided and often slow in the best of situations, his progress was hampered by the intrusions of an impatient shifter at his elbow every two minutes. After what seemed to be an eternity, Dorbo scampered over. He looked irritated. 

But after a quick stop at the Kundark branch to store the figurine, we were off.

It was still raining as we caught a boat. Now Zilargo was warm this time of year, as warm as it would have been back home. Hooded cloaks made for a hot,sticky, and uncomfortable ride. But they were necessary to keep the raindrops out. In addition, the boat was slow, and its gondolier not very skilled. Though the gondola had an awning, we were getting drenched. So therewe were, slow and wet.

The plan was to head to the north of town to the Hospital. But of course Dorbo had to pick at Bynara. 

"Bah, I'll bet those fellas were naught but fellow pornographers. Maybe they was just' robbin tha place. You probably didnt even see tha Tharashk crest. Easy to make a mistake like that bein a Reacher and all. You haven't  been in tha big city long enough to know th' difference."

Cue Bynara, irritated, wet. "What's got being from the Eldeen got to do with anything? Look, I was there gnome. Not ten feet away if a hundred. I saw it. I can idnetify crests. I didnt just fall out of the tree you know."

Anvil leaned over to Dorbo."It's not wise to upset a shifter." he whispered sagely.

Dorbo kept it up, ignoring the advice. "No no t'was most likely dark, too little light. Ya know what they say bout Reachers, cant see tha birds in the forests for the trees I guess." 

I didnt understand the allusion, but  assumed it was insulting. Dorbo was just plain enjoying the reaction he was getting from Bynara. 

Cue Bynara, angrier. At the gondolier. The rain. At having her skills as scout insulted. "Listen you glorified file clerk. I could see fine. These guys werent just break in artists, and they knew what they were doing."

Dorbo kept a straight expression on his face and simply shrugged "If you say so." He responded in a condescending tone. A tone similar to one used on a naughty pet or small child. 

Byanra, her face red, and the  wet forelock of her hair hanging limply over her nose, whirled in her seat, causing the small boat to rock violently. "The Dagger take you, Fodderwig. If you doubt me, I'll show you." 

With a growl she grabbed the lapel of the gondolier, a young freckled faced gnome.The poor creature froze in terror at not just being accosted, but accosted by a shifter.

"You- " she growled, shaking the poor gnome. "Where's the Tharashk outpost in this little burg?"

So,so, south" the gnome stammered. "its on Glittergold street. Just follow that canal south." he pointed at a large canal that was perpindicular to ours. "You cant miss it. Its not too far..Really!"

Byanra leapt from her seat, off the boat and onto the canal's landing. She turned and motioned to Dorbo. "Well come on. Lets go look. we'll see how good my eyesight really is."

_Ahh professionalism._.

With the graceful strides of a powerful cat, Bynara headed away south, ignoring our shouts and the rain . Throwing  a few coins at the boat driver, we followed. No, make that chased.


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## Ashy (Dec 7, 2005)

Express:

SO. GLAD. YER. BACK.  

Keep up the awesome writing...


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## Sidekick (Dec 8, 2005)

I so second that Express.

This story hour is what convinced me to 1. but the ECS and 2. run an eberron game. I've now got both up and running and loving it.

This is a truly entertaining and noir'ish read. 

Keep at it cuz


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## Henry (Dec 8, 2005)

Express,

Don't stop. 

I've got to re-read the thread from the beginning to refresh my memory, but now that you're back on this, so am I.


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## Express (Dec 9, 2005)

OK mores coming. But the Holiday season is eating much of my time, and I need to retrieve my game notes from my DM.


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## Black Bard (Dec 12, 2005)

It´s great to have you back, Express!!! I´ll have to re-read the whole story, but of course it shall be a pleasure!!!


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## Express2.0 (Apr 18, 2010)

post deleted.


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