Forgotten Freedom:Unrelated
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The rain fell on the city in a mighty onslaught, providing a much needed cleansing for a city full of filth. However, not even the mightiest of storms could wash away the truth hidden behind the closed doors of this place. When the sun once again breaks free of the clouds the city will sparkle in all its wonder, but all of its evil will remain undaunted by the fury of the storm. They will never see the true beauty that the storm has given them, just how it can be used to further their interests and satisfy their selfish desires. It is all just an illusion, another layer of the deception that these men weave about themselves. They thrive in the darkness of the storm and in the light of day, able to move from one setting to another almost instantly. This is where the tale begins, although it is not the true beginning and is unlikely to be the end. The city of Sharn in its total splendor plays but a small part in the tale about to unfold. Although the storm failed to wipe the evil from this place, others had more success, and one has fallen who will rise again. Freedom has been granted but it has also been taken away and the balance remains as always. Those who have gained must not forget the past for it will haunt them as those that lost seek to return to the power they once held. We turn now to Kione who is about to discover just how much she gained, and the price she must pay for her newfound freedom.
If the water rushing down the street was any indication, the storm must be over. Although the light could barely penetrate to the depths of the lower city, the flow of water is able to give a good indication of the weather above the crisscrossing bridges. The people will return to their lives moving about as normal until they are plunged into a second storm, not of rain and wind but of emotions. More powerful than the fury of nature, this storm will send them to a place where the sun may never again pierce the clouds. Some will seek revenge others will seek escape, but who chooses correctly is hard to say. Kione however, has nothing to fear, she was on the giving side last night, and cares little for the pain she causes others. The life she took means nothing, and she will continue on serving her master like she has in the past until they release her. Rising from the dark corner and crossing what now is little more than a trickle of water, she makes her way to the stairs that will lead her back into the light. Back to the beautiful palace in the sky that hides her depraved master from the not so observant eyes of those who would see him removed from this place. By the time she sees the first rays of the sun, the city is already back into full swing, people rushing about on the ground or in the air as they celebrate the freedom of another day without war. Although it has been more than two years it still does not seem quite real to those who were near the front lines. Fighting and death since before their parents were born, a war so long that peace could barely be remembered. How should they act without the imminent threat of battle with the safety of being able to plan their own lives after so much order? Kione knows the truth, the war is not over it is simply hidden away where the common man cannot see it. Battles are fought not with armies and magic but with intelligence and wit. The rulers of the nations are not ready to trust one another and must ensure that they are ready for the deception that their recent enemies are most certainly planning. Not only this, but there are also the smaller wars, religious cults and criminals fighting a bloody war in dark alleys as the unsuspecting sleep soundly in their beds. Kione is an agent for one of the groups and although they are but a small part of the web of intrigue, she knows that they are grander than even the nation they use as a convenient cover. There it was, not much to look at compared to the mansions, which surround it but better than almost anything in the lower parts of the city. Land in Skyway is hard to come by and the Reidarn ambassadors had only been in Sharn for a little more than a year. Had it been that long already 360 nights carrying out the bidding of her masters, moving through the shadows while they attended the overly lavish parties of this place. So many lost souls, both by her hand and that of her master, and all for the furthering of goals she could barely comprehend. They seemed so eager and so patient at the same time a tribute to their extraplaner nature that skewed their view of the world in more ways then one. Its not that she minded the work, the lives she took meant nothing to her and felt no regret for taking them from this world. It was a quick and painless way to leave unlike the way her master works, slowly and methodically destroying the life of his targets to gain more power over them. Given the choice most would take the silent blade in the middle of the night, never to wake again and experience the pain that is life. The sun was now at its peak and not a cloud was to be seen, burning down the heat that was all too common in this place would soon become unbearable. Quickly she opened the gate and slipped inside wandering along the garden path to the rear of the mansion so that she could get some much needed rest before the next night of servitude to her lord. Through the door and up the small set of servants stairs to the third floor, into the hallway and the first door on the right. Not much to look at just a bed and some shelves for the few important possessions, which she had brought from Sarlona, but it was home. The shutters were closed as they should be and nothing appeared to be moved so she slipped into the bed and fell deep into sleep. She had no dreams which was good for they rarely went well when they were her own and when they were not they always ended poorly. The Realm of Dreams was not a happy place, and when her masters used it to speak with her she would always wake with a start covered in a cold sweat. They truly could not understand the life of a human, and while they were in their home, they cared little for the comfort of a mere servant. When she awoke she was grateful that none had disturbed her for this was the best sleep she had had in a long time. Deep and peaceful not filled with happy dreams just empty, relaxing, like a slice of death, at least how she hoped it would be. As she sat up and looked around, she noticed that no light filtered in through the window to give her an indication of the time. Had the clouds returned coving the sun once again or was it already night, time to return to work. Why had she not been woken, her masters must have a task for her to complete this night. Perhaps they have not yet realized her absence busy planning for their own night or even the next day could they have forgotten to give her a task. She rose and went into the hall, but it was dark, no lanterns placed to illuminate it and not a sound to be heard coming from within the building. Down the stairs and into the main rooms of the place but still no one, not her masters or even an aid, not even servants tending to the mundane tasks with which they usually filled their time. Going to a back room, she found an everbright torch and walked back out into the main hall and then she saw something that could very well explain the changes her home had undergone. Not scrawled on the wall in blood, like some of the more barbaric groups do, but floating in the air, faint traces of ectoplasm forming letter and words. A message, no a warning so that others would know what fate befell the last residents of this place, and the reasons that it came to pass. To most it would seem cryptic and explain little, but to one with her knowledge the message was quite clear. “The darkness that resided in this place has been brought into the light, may none ever again dream of making it return, should they face the same fate.” There were many that would wish her master harm, however, only one group could strike so cleanly and quickly. The Kalashtar, a peace loving people, that were still quite capable of defending themselves in many forms of battle. They sought to bring an end to the evil of the world in the hopes that it would cause the destruction of the Quori. Of all the missions she had ever had, and all the people she had killed, the Kalashtar seemed the least deserving as well as the most capable. If not for the morals that bound their existence, they may have defeated her in battle on a number of occasions. Surely if she had been here, their would have been nothing she could do, they would have killed any agents of Riko before killing his host and sending him back to the realm of dreams. He should have contacted her by now, spoken to her while she slept, or sent a message from the embassy. Maybe he thought her dead, fallen among the others who served him as the Kalashtar cleansed the house. Or perhaps, he was dead; the Kalashtar certainly had the ability to destroy not only a mortal form but also the spirit, dooming it to its cycle of rebirth. Could that be it, was she finally free of the oppression she had suffered for so long, able to walk away without the fear of retaliation that kept her locked in servitude. One more night, if she had still not been contacted when she awoke the next morning, she would gather her things and set out for the life she had longed for. Freedom to choose her own destiny and make her own decisions, something she had desired all her life. With her abilities and will, surely she could carve out a comfortable life someplace in Khorvaire. First, to search the house, tomorrow when she leaves she will never be able to return, and it will help to have everything she can find to start her new life. Their were many rooms, not to mention the secret chambers and hidden places, much would need to be done before she slept this night.
Finally it was complete, and not a moment to soon, the sun was just disappearing below the horizon, throwing beautiful hues into the night sky. Gathering a few lights, she looked about at what her day of labor had brought her and began to decide what she could take with her. There were two bags now empty, and although they appeared rather small, they could in fact hold many times their apparent volume. One of the bags had held a number of small pouches containing coins, both gold and platinum, and rare gems. Also, there was a set of fine dinnerware, it would fetch a nice price in the market and be able to provide her with the wealth needed to get away from this place. Finally there was the food she had salvaged from the kitchen, although the kitchen was practically full, only some of it would be good after any amount of travel, so she had limited it to some bread and a few apples. She also had all of her personnel possessions, the light armor a few powerful items that she had received for her exemplarily services, and as always, she had the tools of her trade, her mind, and the power it contained. Now the question became, should she sleep and wait for the message, or leave quickly in the hope that it will never come. Although she desired to leave, she knew firsthand the fate that betraying her masters would bring about. The way he had killed his last bodyguard was one of the most unpleasant deaths she could imagine, and she was an expert on death. No, she would wait, hope for an empty and peaceful sleep, but prepare for the disappointment that was just as likely. So she slept, slipping into it just as easily as always despite the trepidation she felt, as she lay motionless in her bed. Even the fear of what awaited her in her dreams could not keep her awake, and she drifted, slowly but surely wandering into the darkness that was sleep. Then it began, was it a dream or a vision, so unlike those that had come before but it was not reality that was for certain. Shortly after drifting off to sleep she jerked awake suddenly aware of a presence, something in her room which did not belong. Although it had startled her, she was completely unable to move, just tensing and opening her eyes to see it, crouched on her headboard almost hovering over her body. It was not human but it seemed somehow familiar, like an old acquaintance that could be recognized at a glance. She struggled further but could do little more than wiggle as she felt the energy drain out of her body, leaving her unable to even speak. It spoke, its voice both familiar and alien, shifting through a number of tones and accents as if trying to find the best one to use in this situation. “It’s been so long although it seems like only yesterday.” said the familiar voice, shifting it continued. “You remember don’t you, the time we spent together and the work that you did for us? That however, is not why I am here. You have done much more recently that concerns us and we worry about were your path would lead you. We must find where your loyalties lie so that we can see if you will be used or discarded in the events to come.” Her vision blurred and she was suddenly in a different place in a different time, although the darkness remains, both the surroundings and the other being. She was standing now and could see the little girl sleeping on her bed peacefully beneath her watchful gaze. “Remember her, you were such a good little servant, always doing what you were told, never questioning our authority.” Her hand extended over her body as it did those years ago, ready to call upon the power and end this child’s life. “You needed no reasons just a command that you followed dutifully as one of your kind should.” Suddenly, her blade formed driving into the girl’s neck, quick and painless, as it should be. “Do you feel remorse or guilt? No? Just a lingering something, what is it? Frustration, that you could not choose her death, it was just another order to be followed? Yes, that is it; you always wanted your freedom but knew that it was not yet in your grasp.” Kione’s vision blurred again and suddenly, she was standing in the middle of a field as clouds whisked by overhead. In control once again, she looked around but saw no evidence of the cloaked figure or anyone else for that matter, although she still felt its presence. Suddenly, there is movement from both sides of her vision as two armies prepare to meet in deadly combat. To the right are men and women dressed in the gear of monks they are stoic and prepared to accept the fate that awaits them. To the right there are far fewer creatures but they are truly horrific in appearance ranging from almost human to the worst monstrosities imaginable. As they draw closer, humans are visible mixed among them leading the attack and forming around their Quori masters for protection. Although the whisper of the breeze is audible, the battlefield is eerily silent as the two armies rush towards one another. All their energy is turned inward as they focus on fighting the mental battle that is far more dangerous than this physical one displayed in her vision. Moments before they clash the scene freezes and the voice returns, becoming familiar and almost kind. “Which side would you take, if you could choose, without consequence? The one with the most gold, the one that lets you lead, or would their mission matter?” Without waiting for an answer, it is gone, the battle the shadow, everything. All is dark once more, and Kione is back to her room, except there is one difference. On the table next to the head of her bed, is a small object that glows faintly with an inner light. Examining it more closely, she sees it is a shard of crystal covered in intricate carvings, and what appears to be a single point of light buried deep within it. It would be beautiful if she did not know what it was, the symbol of The Path of Light, the Kalashtar faith, the primary targets of the dreaming dark her former masters.
That was all the convincing Kione needed that it was time to leave right now, not in the morning as she had planned. Gathering her things and taking a final look around at the place that had been her home for the last year, she burst through the door and slipped quickly but quietly into the familiar darkness of night. Although she did not pay attention to where she was going, her path wound in and out of the cities back alleys that she had traveled frequently. Pausing by instinct, to let a patrol pass or wait for a guard to look away distracted by his boredom, before continuing on her way. Running on and on until the familiar areas disappeared and she had lost herself in the labyrinth of the under city. But still it was not enough; she kept running to keep her mind off of what had happened and what it could mean to her. As she ran, she found an eerie calm the eye of the storm, all of her thoughts purified by the exhaustion she was beginning to feel throughout her body. The vision began to clarify, and she began to see a plan, a way to escape her fear of the Quori, and finally move on with her life. Normally she would have analyzed the plan with more scrutiny, but at the moment she was beginning to lack air and as her body began to tremble she lost most of her rational thought. If not for the jagged floor, she may not have even stopped running until she collapsed completely exhausted and likely close to death. Luckily, the loose stone caught her foot and sent her tumbling down and sliding into the nearby wall, where her consciousness began to fade. Her last thought was a cheerful one, as she saw her blade form on her hand and extend through the spiritual essence of one of her Quori masters. Then all was dark once again, until she was awaken by the throbbing pain in her shoulder and head. It was still dark although by now it must have been daytime, as evidenced by the warforged already busy at work moving crates and boxes to the factories where they spent most of their time. There were also a number of people moving about attending to business often of a less than legal nature. Not only did the towers of the city stretch overhead, but also she was beneath the group upon which their foundations were laid so many years ago. She had rarely ventured below the surface, because her masters targets had usually been too wealthy of powerful to be stuck in this pit of grime. There weren’t exactly buildings, more of caves connected to a single large tunnel that weaved about under the surface. Most of the beings going about their business ignored her as they continued past, looking thru her as if she was below their notice. These scum could justify their living by finding someone inferior to them so that all they had achieved seemed almost noble and great. However, some of them were different, looking down sadly as if they wished they could help but knew that if they tried they would be unable to feed their own children that night. These kind people were content in their lives caring for their families in the best way that they could although they likely deserved more than Kione had her entire life, even in her present state of want. Then a voice broke her out of her trace, it sounded kind, although it was rough almost like machinery parts grinding together. One of the warforged had stopped beside her and was trying to offer her something, a loaf of bread. Why it would have a loaf of bread she would not know, as they had no need for food but she accepted it smiling at the simple gesture. She was truly grateful to him because he was able to help her clarify her thoughts even more, finally recovering from the panic induced coma the night before. The quori where likely her enemy, and it was probable that they would stand in the way of her happiness at some point in the future. Still, she was not the only enemy they had, and a group with to many enemies can easily be defeated if alliances can be formed. She knew they had aspirations far greater than most could imagine, and would strive towards them for all of time. The monoliths they were constructing in Sarlona were only a first step; eventually they would attempt to stretch across Eberron, even challenging the dragons in their thirst for authority and control. If she could find these groups such as the kalashtar, she could help to unite them and use them as her weapon against the quori. Hopefully ensuring that they could never bother her again, or were too fearful of her power to attempt it. Only then would she be able to rest actually free from the oppression she had been subjugated to under their rule.
“Hey you. What are you doing here?” there was a woman draped in rags yelling at her, “This is my spot, you go find another.” She must be the beggar who usually sits in this little corner and waits for handouts from the laborers. “Is that my bread? It is you stole my bread. You come along uninvited sit in MY corner and steal MY bread.” Reaching out for it she continued, getting louder most likely in the hope of drawing a crowd. “Come on now, give it back, you don’t seem to have much need for it with your fancy cloak and frilly clothing.” Weary of drawing to much attention, Kione returned the bread and began to walk away blending into the crowd and drifting along with its steady movement. She did not know where she was going, much less where she had been, but the crowd seemed to have a goal, merging with new groups at every intersection, and then splitting off again, a river of people flowing beneath the city. So she followed and allowed herself to be carried along streets that no one had ever gone to the effort of naming. Perhaps she had been meant to find this crowd and move along the street with them, because they carried her to a place she needed to go. It seemed like an accident at the time, but looking back, maybe it was all part of a carefully laid plan. The person she ran into and the foolish guard who tried to punish her for the affront to his mistress. She was following the multitude, and failed to notice them splitting around a group moving slower in the center of the street. Somehow, she managed to slip between the two rear guards and collide with the woman walking without a care down these streets. Although they had missed her going past, they were quick to react once Kione had been noticed amongst them. One reached out to grab her by the arms while the second drew his sword ready to punish her for her impudence. Reacting without a second of thought, Kione slipped from his grip and spun about placing her newly formed mindblade at the throat of the man who was about to finish unsheathing his blade. Somehow the crowd was able to sense the disturbance, taking a collective step away from the confrontation before they had even seen the glint of the mans steel. The guard with his hand on his blade froze in place not releasing his sword, but prepared to die if it bought his employer a second more in which to escape. The one on the ground slid back a few feet but made no aggressive moves, less sure of the need to throw his life away against such a skilled individual. Luckily, no ones hand was forced as Lady Andolyn turned placing a hand lightly on Kione’s arm and asking her to lower the blade. “Please, my friend we are no enemies of yours, surely you do not wish to spill the blood of yet another man.” Whether it was something in her voice, or just the look of peace in her eyes, Kione felt no need to hold her blade and let it dissipate from her hand. “Forgive me lady,” Kione replied respectfully, “I had no intention of disturbing your guards, or you for that matter.”
“There is no need for you to apologize, please come with me and we will be sure that you were not injured by the uncouth guards my father insists that accompany me.”
“No really I must get going, you know how it is, places to be.”
“I insist, besides I may have a job for one with skills such as yours.”
“Well, actually I am in need of a new employer at the moment. Lead on and we can discuss business in the privacy of some other place.”
And so they did, traveling further down the road until they came to a lift that would take them high into the upper levels of Lyrander tower. There they would discuss the many ways that Kione’s skills could benefit Andolyn and her family.
Finally he was off that dreadful continent, where he had spent the last few weeks and buried a number of good friends. Xen’drik, land of riches and opportunities beyond your wildest dreams, just like war was great for business, it was really a place of death. Sure, usually war fighting did not bother him too much, after all, it was what he had been designed to do. And with the Last War finally over, he had to find someplace where his strength could be put to the test. The only real options he had were hard labor or mercenary fighter, warforged were only legally equal no one seemed to care about treating them like anything more than a machine. That was fine; he liked fighting, the rush of the moment, the matching of blades against a worthy opponent and coming out ahead. It was a good life, which had a terrible downside so very closely associated with it, death. This however was not what he had bargained for when he signed up as extra muscle for a mission to the continent of the giants. An easy job, standing around dutifully while a group of explorers opened forbidden temples so that they could plunder the wealth of fallen nations from within. It also helped that he had a few personnel matters to attend to in Stormreach the small city that had been built on the northern coast. So he followed his patron across the ocean and into the jungle where their guide promised them great wonders. How ironic that he was the first to die when they released the poison gas that had long been trapped inside the chamber. Half of the expedition died as it vented into the air, luckily, XXXX had no need to breath and was able to seal it before they all fell. His client was very pleased that he was still alive and promised a great bonus once they returned to Sharn. Then as if they had been waiting patiently in the jungle they came, lizardmen savages prepared to kill for little more than pleasure. They were fortunate that day, the lizardmen that is, they were able to grab and drag off ten good strong men without taking much more than a light injury. XXXX attempted to order them to pursue, but Blade was the only one in any condition to do so, and he knew how pointless it was. Instead, he gathered the survivors, actually carrying two of them and they began to head back to the boats that would carry them safely to town. The journey by boat was uneventful until they reached the clearing near Stormreach and saw the carnage that surrounded it. Many tribes had come from the jungle to throw their lives away in an attack on the well-fortified city. Both drow and lizardmen as well as other races that Blade did not recognize, some appearing to be almost human. Their corpses were littered about the outside of the walls, but it appeared as if they had failed to even break through one of the smaller gates. What was even more odd was that the battle seemed as if it had been raging for days, the tribes ran out one at a time getting to the wall and attacking while they were easily picked off by guards and mages alike. They looked so tired though, and it was clear from the way they carried themselves that the battle had been long and tiring. The lines of corpses had moved closer as well, starting from right near the edge of the forest until they were now right next to the wall. They followed the river right past the wall and called to the guards to open the gate so they could make it in safely. They jerked as if they had dosed off for a moment, and he was afraid they would strike before realizing that the people below them were friends. However, they did not, the guards moved to open the gate and even came down to help carry the wounded into the city. Once inside, a man in a rather magnificent suit of armor, bearing the insignia of a sentinel marshel, approached them.
Blade moved quickly to the wall, he could see the next tribe on the move, and his tireless efforts would likely prove invaluable if this continued for much longer. He surveyed the surroundings, and noticed something that the less alert of the city had likely missed; the southwest corner of the wall had been undisturbed in the many attacks so far. Before he had time to think about what this could mean, the drow were upon them, throwing their spears at the soldiers and yelling loudly as if it would protect them from the arrows and spells that had cut down their brethren only an hour ago. It did not, they fell screaming all the way to the end, and they had even managed to get one up the wall and kill a number of guards before falling. One of those standing on the wall seemed as if he should be lying amongst the wounded but he had not moved. He stood painfully alert peering deeply into the jungle as if he could see what no one else could. Even as Blade approached he did not move, just holding his position with his wickedly curved double scimitar balanced in his grip. The blood of at least two opponents dripped from the tips of the blade, while a slow trickle of the elves ran down his arm to mix with it on the parapet. Taking a place a few steps to the left of the mysterious elf, he turned to look into the forest, attempting to see what could be of so much interest.
“Do you see it,” he asked in a voice that was barely more than a whisper “the doom that is coming for each and everyone of us in this city.” Turning his head, he continued. “The giants have risen, disturbed by our intrusion, and they will not rest until we leave these shores once again.”
“Why do you stand here if you see no hope in defeating those who would see us destroyed?” Blade asked, actually curious in the elves commitment to a lost cause.
“It is what I must do, my ancestors fought the giants so that my race could escape their oppression and the doom of their society.” A look of sadness crossed his face, “I have come to I have come to confront them, and punish them for the countless centuries they held my people in slavery.”
“A noble cause, but will it not be doomed to fail if this city should fall?”
“Many giants shall fall before this city crumbles to dust, they will learn the price that must be paid to preserve what is left of their empire. I am named elf after one of my ancestors, and he guides my blade, many of the giants will fall before I take my last breath.”
“Then I will stand beside you, and together we can leave once the battle is lost so that someday we can return to punish the giants for both past and present crimes.”
“I welcome your company good friend, however I make no promise to flee with you as the city smolders in ruin all around us. Only when I have proved myself to my ancestors can I leave and be free of the burden I now carry.”
They both turned then staring into the greenery that surrounded them, waiting for the battle that would decide their fates. Neither wished to see the city fall, but both had seen enough of battle to know that many would die and the possibility for defeat was always present. Nonetheless, they would stay, fighting in the way that their honor dictated they should, and they would accept the fate that awaited them without complaint. Other lesser men moved about in the city behind them fearful of what would come, and praying that it would not. Many of them would fall in the battle to come, and most would never accept that fate, always wishing that they had been given more in their life. Elf and Blade however, had already accepted whatever fate may have in store for them, and would fight without hesitation, ready to give their lives in the hope of destroying more of their enemies or saving more of their friends. The battle did come, a day later after the troops were even more exhausted from the constant onslaught of the various tribes forced to sacrifice themselves for the giants. As he predicted, the giants had been hiding in the jungle, and they rushed forth while throwing boulders to destroy the wall that stood in their way. The mages used what spells they could to stop the giants and the boulders that began to rip the wall apart. It did not matter, the numbers were overwhelming, running into the wall and climbing it in a matter of moments even at its highest points. The guards also tried their best, surrounding a single giant and slicing into his flesh until he fell. Unfortunately, there were to many, and by the time they had slain the first group, they were reduced to small handfuls of troops scattered about the city, unable to get help or defeat the giants who seemed to come at them from every angle. Some areas had better luck, as Charis and Blade were able to defend a pair of mages and a squad of archers. Many giants did indeed fall, the spinning blades held them at bay as they were pelted with spells and arrows. Their bodies piled outside of the wall until the giants were forced to come around them before making any attempt to scale the wall. However, even that was a lost battle, as the mages expended their last spells, and the archers began to run out of ammunition. They called out their thanks to the pair of defenders who had saved their lives, as they ran through the city hoping to catch one of the last ships as it set sail. Fires sprouted throughout the city, as the rearguard tried to kill a last few giants before jumping onboard of the quickly departing ships. They were trapped cut off from the docks, not that it would matter since by now the ships were gone or destroyed. They were fortunate to have a plan, an escape route that they could use to meet up with a ship that had agreed to wait for them a few miles down the coast. Blade turned to his companion to see if he would be making the journey alone, and was glad to see the look of satisfaction on the elf’s face.
“We have slain many this day, and my ancestors are honored by my great deeds. Come now let us go so that someday when we return, the giants will learn the meaning of fear.”
Off they went, weaving through the streets ducking into alleys where the giants could no see them. They managed to gather a few more troops and slip into the small sewer system so that they could follow it to the beach and make their way to the cove where their salvation awaited. When they burst free of the sewers, they were confronted by three giants who had been sent to guard this potential escape route. Before they had a moment to react three slabs of rock had been thrown in their direction. They dove to either side of the opening, but it was too late for two of the guards to react. One was clipped in the head and fell to the ground most likely dead. The one standing next to him was hit in the legs and although he was thrown back and onto the ground, his groans of pain signaled that he was still alive. Blade was able to dodge out of the way of the one that was meant for him, and only took a glancing blow that could barely make a dent in his thick armor. By the time they had reached down for a second volley of ammunition, Charis was upon them, making several gashes in one of their legs, as the guardsmen released a volley of arrows at another. The third was for Blade, and he rushed forward to clash with the titan, before it had a chance to inflict more harm upon his allies. Charis was able to deftly avoid the rock thrown at him, and the guards managed to escape its path. Blade however, had no choice but to stand his ground and take the blow. When the rock slammed into him the giant was still holding onto it, and it shattered as it made contact. Although he was injured, he was able to continue on and slam his hammer into the giant’s leg, knocking him off of balance and to the ground. He quickly advanced to the arms so that his opponent would not be able to rise, and strike again. His attack was a success, and the giant fell still for the last time. Charis was also having great success, able to slice open a number of wounds in vital places, and causing his foe to fall to the ground to weak to move. Calling out to his ancestors, he stepped up onto its chest and with a single blow ended its life. The final giant, after giving up on its projectiles, rushed the archers and managed to kick one, sending him flying backwards into the underbrush. It now had seven arrows lodged in its body from the three archers, and appeared as if it was standing by little more than willpower. Before it had the chance to get in a final blow, an eighth arrow pierced his armor, sealing his fate. Although they were overjoyed that they had managed to escape from the burning ruins of the town that had been their home for the lasts few months, they knew their journey was not yet over. Helping their wounded friends to their feet, they made all possible haste to the cove where if luck were still with them, a ship would be waiting to carry them to safety. It was such a beautiful sight, that boat, floating safely no more than a hundred yards from the shore, waiting to take them home. The rowboat was already waiting near the mouth of the stream that emptied into the river, and the crew waved the injured men over to it. Glancing around once more to check for any enemies lurking in the jungle that seemed to be reaching out to the shore. Seeing none, Blade said goodbye to this place, and those who he had left behind in its soil, before taking his place in the boat. With his extra weight, the boat sunk a little lower in the water that normal, but it would still be able to carry them to their salvation. The sky burned as they unfurled their sails, not only from the setting sun, but also from the flames and smoke rising from what was once Stormreach. It was always sad when so many lost their lives, especially when it was for something so pointless as money. It seemed as if the races of Eberron were constantly getting themselves into conflict, regardless of the cost. Even after years of war, so horrible that the collective nations breathed a sigh of relief when it ended, they still thirsted for conquest and battle. Such foolish individuals, but then they were mortal and needed to strive for something to feel accomplished. He had never felt the need to hurry about his work, and accepted the fact that it may take years for him to accomplish some tasks. Perhaps his new friend would feel the same way; after all, elves were able to live for much longer than humans. Although, he did seem to show a strong thirst for battle so that he could prove himself to these ancestors that had saved his race so many thousands of years ago. Maybe once he had proven himself, he could stop fighting, and together, they could explore the many wonders of Khorvaire. He would wait, and see how things developed; it would be good to have a friend who could spend a longer amount of time with him. He had already seen two human generations pass, a father and his sons, falling in battle and fading from the memory of those who once loved them. He remembered them still, and their families who had accepted his presence at the dinner table although he had nothing to eat. They had been good people and he wished that he had not met them in battle, when they would eventually meet their end. If they had met after the war he could have become their friend, living close to them and being introduced to each new generation as they grew in a time of peace. Such thoughts were foolish, he had been built for war by a race of people that seemed as if they could barely live without it. He would find his place eventually, or he would fall in one of the many battles that would likely fill the rest of his life.
Many were likely saddened by the sky as the sun set, but Charis was satisfied with how he had fought that day. Many had died on both sides, but he had emerged victorious even if the city fell to the onslaught. His ancestors were pleased with what he had done, and they would welcome him in the afterlife if he were ever to fall in battle. He could walk away from all of it now, never raise his blade again, and he would feel fulfilled and satisfied with his life. He had met a new friend a truly worthy companion able to hold him own in battle against many superior foes. Together they had been nearly unstoppable, cutting down opponents like so much wheat. Some of the giants almost appeared to show fear as they approached the section of wall held by the fearsome duo. Eventually they had fled but there was no dishonor in retreating from a battle with impossible odds. If they had stayed they may have been able to take a few more of their attackers, but they would never raise their weapons against a foe again. He would return to his clan and speak with the elders telling them of the great deeds he accomplished in their ancestral homeland. They would welcome him with open arms and give him a place of great honor in one of the war bands that patrol the land of their new nation. He was not certain if they would accept Blade so well, but he would make an excellent addition to any fighting force. How one of the swift Velanar* horses would be able to support his weight was an issue they would have to resolve, because he would never be able to keep up without one. Still, the invitation would be extended, it was proper and he truly desired the company of such a noble individual. The inhabitants of the plains would need to fear his return, and they would learn the punishment for trespassing on the land that now belonged to the valis tirnith*. War would come, it was inevitable, and it would be best if he was prepared for it and had a good number of allies to stand by his side when the time came.
Finally the verbal lashing had come to an end, after many minutes of yelling by the strict man who ran this little shop. Sure he had things to do and they were important, but wasn’t it ok for gnome to be late every once and awhile. He had important things to do as well, and if working was not at the top of his list his boss would simply have to wait for him to show up. However, he had accepted the punishment, it was what he had to do so that he could keep up appearances. His great skill with magic and his forgetfulness were his two most recognizable traits, and that was how he liked it. People seemed to accept the fact that he could be the most talented mage they had ever seen, as well as the most absent-minded one. By the time he got to work and finished the project they needed to have done by the end of the week, everything would be forgiven. They really had no choice; they could accept his flaws or do without his considerable talents. He had already received a number of offers from other men wishing that they could use him to increase their business. Most of the offers had been more than generous, certainly more than he made here, but he had other reasons for staying. He had a task to accomplish and he would succeed regardless of how long it took. His pride and ambition could take a back seat to his sense of duty and his loyalty to his great nation. When he had been contacted and told of the mission they wanted him to undertake, he had been scared and a little surprised that they actually existed. Since he was just a child his parents had spoke of them and how they watched over the safety of Zilargo, so that it could be protected from both internal and external threats. He had never seen them in action but that was most likely because they never wanted to be seen. They came to him slipping past the wards he had placed on his home and asked that he do them a service for the betterment of his nation and race. How could he turn them down after all that they had supposedly done for his family and friends? He agreed, and traveled to Sharn where he found a job as a mage’s assistant. At first he was amazed at the lack of skill that the mage showed while he seemed to think so highly of himself. His magic was clumsy and rushed, showing none of the finesse that gnome had developed through his years of training. It took great care for him to lower his talents to the degree where they would not be seen as completely out of place. Although he still appeared more talented than mage, he was able to add other character flaws so that it would seem that he had less organization in his life than his boss did. It seemed to work, his job was very secure as long as he could perform their work so quickly while still not taking the credit for the items that were created. Everything was going as it should, although he had not heard from his contact in many weeks and was beginning to worry. He had never been told the extent of the plan just what he needed to do to get it started and that he should wait for more instructions. Surely they had long reaching goals, or maybe he was nothing more than a distraction so that some other agent could complete a vitally important task. His life was not bad, he had easy work and was serving his family in the noblest way he could. He would wait, if no one came that would not be such a bad thing, and he could continue about his simple life amongst the people of Sharn. If they did come for him to either tell him that he was done, or had another task to do, that would also be fine. He would be happy to go home to his family, but they could wait until he had completed the mission he had been chosen for. Everything would work itself out in time, and he would accept whatever fate was dealt to him, satisfied that it was his lot in life. Tomorrow was a different day, and perhaps it would reveal what fate had in store for him, and the path he should take to reach it. No more idle contemplation for today, it was time to get this robe finished so that it could be returned to its owner. It was beautiful piece of material that seemed to shift through the color spectrum as he watched it. But it hid other secrets that few would be able to discern. Already it contained a set of thin cloth, blacker than night, that absorbed all the light that came near it. A third and forth set of cloth would still have to be combined with it before it was complete, and ready to be sold. One was a bright costume that seemed to draw everyone’s eyes toward it, and the other was of much poorer quality, like something you would see in one of the lower districts. It was a small outfit suitable for either a gnome or a halfling, although judging by the design; it most likely belonged to a halfling. Their love for the frivolous designs and patterns could be seen in even the low quality set of clothing. Great care had gone into making it such a shining example of the bottom end of the clothing line, like it had been made to look bad. His customers were indeed strange, trying so hard at all times to hide themselves behind such transparent veils. He could see details of their lives that their closest friends had likely not noticed, and they did not even seem to care. He was after all just a crafter no matter how skilled; he was beneath their notice just the way he liked it.
Thankfully the journey by ship was uneventful with little more than a sprinkle of rain to interrupt their trip. They had been helpful to the captain during the voyage, Blade taking a near constant position as lookout while Charis was able to move about the rigging with the ease and certainty of the most experienced crewmembers. Once they had settled into the docks around the cliffs far below the towers of Sharn, he had thanked them for their help and wished them well in the rest of their lives. They each had plans as they walked down the plank and began to move towards the lifts that would carry them to the city proper. With no real luggage to get off they were the first ones on the lift, and it began its accent with just the two of them onboard. Much had been discussed during their weeks* at sea, and they each had plans to attend to in Sharn before moving on. Charis would go to speak with some members of his family who were stationed at one of the houses of a merchant family. They would tell him what had gone on while he was gone and he would tell them of his exploits in Xen’drik. Once that was done he would travel to adventurer district and look for a mission that the two of them could join. They hoped to find a job that would take them towards Velanar* but at this point almost anything would work. Meanwhile, Blade had many matters to attend to both at the highest and lowest points of the city. First he would go to one of his employers, the banker Kellas Kundarak* and deliver the key which he had acquired from a merchant in Stormreach. Once he had completed that task, and received the reward that went with it, he would travel down into the depths of the city to make contact with his people, the many warforged that worked beneath the notice of the people of Sharn. He would see what if anything had changed while he was gone, and see if any of his brethren would like to accompany them on whatever quest it was they could find. They would meet at one of the taverns in adventurer district and discuss their new job as well as go about purchasing supplies for the journey. Hopefully within a day or two, they would be out on the road once again pursuing the thrill of adventure that drove them so. They reached the top of the lift and stepped off so that others could board it to journey back down. Looking around and seeing that little had changed, they parted going about their business until they would meet up in tavern.
