Chapter 5: Blood and Fire

[Jeff's backup]

Condign looks around at the others. He doesn't say a word, but moves behind Kal to follow the castellan out of the chamber.

[Ken]

Belarin returns Condign's look with a smile and a shake of his head. "It's been a strange few weeks, friends..." he says, chuckling as he follows along, stepping into place alongside Condign. "Say, do you mind a personal question as we walk, Condign?" he asks, speaking in a softer tone. "What's a typical family like where you come from? I mean, big? Small? Strong ties to kin? Competitive? Do you celebrate birthdays? Of course, if your answer to my first question is 'Yes,' then we're not going to get very far." He smiles. "I'm naturally curious."

[Jeff's backup]

Belarin:

"What's a typical family like where you come from? I mean, big? Small? Strong ties to kin? Competitive? Do you celebrate birthdays? Of course, if your answer to my first question is 'Yes,' then we're not going to get very far." He smiles. "I'm naturally curious."

Condign turns his head to look at Belarin, his gold eyes unreadable as he stares at the sorcerer. Continuing down the hallway, his dark cloak roiling about him like a thundercloud, a wave of pain washes the neutral expression from the tiefling's face. Deep anger--or profound sorrow--now emanate from the strange pupilless eyes. Condign looks away from Belarin and says: "I am an orphan. My parents were killed when I was very young. I have no family." With that, he proceeds silently down the corridor.

[Jeff]

Soon enough, the castellan leads you back into the maze of corridors. The halberdier continues to walk beside her, while the other soldiers who had been guarding the barracks door have disappeared. At one point you see Adele gesture with one hand. Moments later, a slightly translucent image of the castellan appears behind the last of your party, walking purposefully of its own accord. You're not certain if it's mere illusion, or if she can actually keep an eye on you from the rear like this.

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For the record, within the world the concept of a warlock—arcane spellcaster who gets his powers from some sort of pact—isn't widely known or understood, though the term 'warlock' is certainly not unheard of. So it's quite appropriate for someone like Condign to assume Belarin is a sorcerer, perhaps even a wizard. Generally the term 'mage' is a catch-all for any arcane spellcaster.

So Brian's got it right.

[Darren]

Kal glances over his shoulder at the mirror image. "That's a neat trick, castellan. Gives new meaning to 'having eyes in the back of your head.'" Kal chuckles, assuming everyone will find his quip as humorous as he does.

[Ken]

brian said:

"I am an orphan. My parents were killed when I was very young. I have no family." With that, he proceeds silently down the corridor.

Belarin says nothing for a moment; he simply walks alongside Condign, nodding once or twice. Then he says, "Well, we have that in common, then. Youth can be a cold, harsh place without family, can't it?" Not expecting an answer, he continues walking.

Lost in his thoughts, he notices neither the castellan's image nor Kalarian's quip.

[Darren]

"Family can be overrated," Kal says to Belarin and Condign. He appears on the verge of saying something else, but closes his mouth and continues walking with his eyes firmly on the castellan's back.

[Jeff]

Condign:

"I am an orphan...I have no family."

Belarin:

"Well, we have that in common, then."

At these words, Lever looks over his shoulder even as he walks. His stony, faceted eyes seem to flicker, and though there are no irises, and no pupils, to determine his gaze, Condign is pretty sure he's looking at him directly. The warforged's faceplate, of course, offers no expression. Lever says nothing, merely turns his head back and keeps walking.

After several minutes, the maze of corridors that all look alike gradually resembles a place more palatial in appearance. Tall arches, vaulted ceilings, and wall adornments give your eyes something to admire. You even pass through one great hall that has other palace staff milling about. Courtiers, butlers, maids, or more likely, something in between. They turn to look at you as you pass, but seeing the castellan leading you, say nothing about your adventurer appearance.

Ralsor offers them a shrug and grins like a boy caught stealing cookies from the jar.

"May the Flame keep you," Charis says with a smile to one elderly woman—who scowls in response.

[Josh]

Grafth removes one of the leftover pastries and takes a healthy bit of it. "I'm used to seeing a much different scowl in response to that phrase," he says to Charis, "Usually one that includes a fang or two."

[Joe]

Streko has been oddly quiet through the journey into the hall, watching, listening, but saying nothing, as if knowing it might be swallowed by the mystery and vastness of this place. He continues walking quietly behind the group, taking up the rear of the formation, following innocuously behind the others.

[Jeff]

At last you reach another archway, a pair of large open doors, and two guards wearing shining mail and royal tabards. The audience chamber lies within, but the castellan stops you here and waits because it seems you're not the only ones worthy of attention. You can hear the murmur of discussion within, and looking through the archway you can see a pair of men standing at the center of the room between raised seats, speaking to the "audience."

Somewhere along the way, Adele's ghostly image has disappeared. There's more than enough guards coming and going around here to keep an eye on you, though.

Two minutes become ten, and still you wait. Adele herself is extremely patient. An attendant approaches her before long and speaks with her, and then offers her a folded broadsheet. Then the attendant enters the chamber beyond, presumably to speak of your arrival.

Adele rifles through the paper in her hand, stops and reads a particular article, then sighs. She turns and hands it to pass among your party, tapping her finger at the article of interest.

It's a copy of the Sharn Inquisitive, arguably the second most distributed broadsheet on Khorvaire; the Korranberg Chronicle remains the most popular of them all. Condign is still getting used to the notion of a news-bearing paper that's reproduced en masse and spread across the nations. Where he comes from, only the really smart or the privileged are taught to read. The barbarians of the Carrion Tribes have no need for such things as education. The chronicle bears today's date.

The chronicle is passed among you, allowing each of you to read the article in question.

Fairhaven Plagued by Serial Arsonist

FAIRHAVEN — A fourth major conflagration this month has left residents of Fairhaven anxious. City guards are determined to find the arsonist responsible before more such incidents occur.

Krilauntha and Sons Tannery on Craver Street caught fire shortly before midnight on Far. Witnesses reported hearing a rush of air and then a low rumble before fire engulfed the building. The flames rapidly spread to three warehouses nearby, turning the area into an inferno. But because of the late hour, the buildings were deserted when the fire started, so no one was hurt.

Fire crews battled the blaze until early morning. A guard captain investigating the scene said the tannery fire bears "significant similarities" to three previous fires in Fairhaven, including:

- A residential fire on Rhaan 3rd that scorched two city blocks in the Laurelbough District, killing fourteen people.
- A fire at an under-construction Sovereign Host hospice on Rhaan 6th that spread to a row of nearby inns, leaving four dead and seven badly burned.
- A blaze at Hooper's Ear Tavern on Rhaan 8th in which 38 people perished. City guard officials confirmed that the tavern doors had been locked or barred from the outside, preventing escape.

Tannery owner Vadnir Krilauntha has offered a reward of 3,000 gold coins for information leading to the perpetrator's arrest. This amount, says Krilauntha, represents "just about all the family has left."

[/color][/blockquote]

[Joe]

"This is too coincidental to be anything other than part of Malov's Plan. Do these locations bear any connection to one another or are they merely ploys to test Fairhaven' response? I am extremely disturbed by this."

Streko passes the paper onward. And continues to wait.

[Jeff's backup]

Condign takes the paper from Streko and scans the pages, spending most of his time on the article about the arsons. He lowers the paper and looks at the others.

"A rush of air followed by a low rumble? That could be from some substance used to set the fire catching quickly, drawing air in to feed the spreading flames. But a low rumble?" He looks down at the article again. "This is a tannery. Maybe there were vats of chemicals used in the tanning process that exploded from the heat, spraying liquid fire through the building?"

Finished with the paper, he passes it on and turns to the castellan: "Has anyone been able to prove that the fires were set by mundane means? Does anyone suspect magic was involved?"

[Josh]

"I'm not as sure as Streko that these arsons are completely connected to what's going on with Malov," Grafth says, passing the paper onward, "but at this point, it is folly to assume that they are unrelated."

[Darren]

"Indeed," muses Kal, "but what's the connection between the locations?" He looks over at the castellan. "I assume inquiries have been launched into these arsons? Were any connections discovered between them or were they deemed to be random acts?"

[Jeff]

"Has anyone been able to prove that the fires were set by mundane means? Does anyone suspect magic was involved?"

"I assume inquiries have been launched into these arsons? Were any connections discovered between them or were they deemed to be random acts?"

"Certainly there have been investigations that the papers are not privy to," Adele replies, looking both Condign and Kal. "They're fairly certain the acts are not random."

She then grows silent; it seems clear she's not allowed to, or just not willing to, say more about it yet.

Ralsor smirks at Kal. "This is Aundair, Kal. They always suspect magic is involved. And a lot of the time they're right."

A few minutes later, Lamara d'Medani appears, escorted by one of the Fairhold Watchmen. She looks extremely tired. Her brimmed hat is nowhere to be seen, and her long hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. She looks even more business-like than yesterday. She looks over at your party, nods curtly, then enters the chamber while you yet wait.

Adele explains, "The inquisitive has been asked to cite her opinion before the prince is to hear from you. We'll go in immediately afterward." She looks squarely at all of you. "Please do not speak out of turn. When you are asked a question, you may answer then. Take those opportunities to speak, unless you are granted permission to speak more freely. Questions?"

[Darren]

Kalarian shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. "My apologies, good castellan," he says once he can speak again. "It has been a very long two weeks."

[Ken]

Belarin scans the paper as well. "Residences ... a place of healing that was probably not coincidentally next to several inns ... a horrific blaze in a tavern ... and a tannery?" he says. "That last one puzzles me. After murdering so many in the tavern, why would he - or she - take a step back, unless it was to direct resources to keep an eye of the warehouses from now on...? Not that I have any special insights into warped, criminal minds, of course."

He looks at the castellan as they wait. "My lady, is there any sort of notable public ceremony planned within the next couple of days, say, one involving a large building and many attendees?"

[Darren]

"It could also have been an attempt to cover someone's tracks," Kal comments.

[Josh]

"No questions." says Grafth, who seems prepared for the audience.

[Jeff]

"My lady, is there any sort of notable public ceremony planned within the next couple of days, say, one involving a large building and many attendees?"

"I don't think so," Adele replies, but seems to consider it. "In truth, I wouldn't know for sure. My job involves everything within Fairhold. Beyond these walls, I am no expert. I suggest you pose the question at an opportune time." She indicates the audience chamber.

Fifteen more minutes pass, during which you can see Lamara speaking, and being questioned, by those around her within the seats. When she is finished, she is asked to sit. An attendant emerges from the room and says to Adele, "The prince is ready."

Adele nods, then turns to your party. "Go on in, and move into the circle. There's plenty of room. And good luck." She stands there, allowing you enter.

And when you do enter, you find it's a much larger chamber than you've been in so far. A soft murmur of discussion among the chamber's occupants is still taking place within, even as you make your way toward the center.

You're not sure what sort of room you were expecting to have an audience with a prince in—a throne room, perhaps, like in all the stories? But no. This one instead resembles a private court of law, though it is quite large. Your eye is first drawn to the far wall, where the Aundairian crest is displayed on the largest tapestry you've ever seen.

Carved and painted within the smooth marble floor is a large circle about twenty feet in diameter, and within it is the image of an open book—the symbol of Aureon, Sovereign of Law and Lore, god of arcane magic, knowledge, and order. In subtler design, a blue dragon is shown encircling the book, its lengthy tail curling around the edges. Within the pages are runes of power—and it's clear to Belarin, Grafth, and Kal that the circle is an active source of power. If not magical in itself, it's certainly been used as a focus for some sort of ritual or spell.

Arrayed on three sides of the chamber and around the circle of Aureon are tiered benches enclosed by a raised bench wall, all of it are made from fine, polished rosewood. The seats are not quite half-filled with people, who represent some very different agencies, which seem to be divided into the three sides.

Among the left-hand seats are representatives from those outside Fairhold:

• Dressed in formal, grey-and-blue House Deneith leather armor is a middle-aged woman with a weathered face, sharp eyes, and shoulder-length grey and black hair. Kal and Grafth recognize her as Lady Korvine. Beside her is a uniformed, ranking member of the Blademarks guild of House Deneith.

• A male halfling wearing a noble's attire in beige and black sewn with the crest of House Jorasco. Despite his civilized look, tied around his neck is a long brown scarf that Streko and Kal both recognize as a Talentan tribal stole—a garment worn by halfling males and females who wish to display their heritage. Beside him is a younger halfling, a pretty girl in a novice healer's uniform—Streko remembers her as Hemmy, whom he met at the Jorasco Citadel.

• A stern-faced half-elf wearing the fine green coat common to members of House Lyrandar's Windwrights Guild. She immediately sets smoldering eyes on Ralsor, who lets out a sigh.

On the right-hand side seem to be assorted statesmen and other officials, most of whom look far too soft to have ever seen real combat. You don't recognize any of them. The inquisitive Lamara, however, has taken a seat in one corner of that block of seats, as if ready to step out again at a moment's notice.

Directly ahead, among the middle seats, is a long table. Several older men in fine clothing sit around a much younger man—perhaps in his late 30s. He is handsome, with the aquiline nose common among the royal ir'Wynarn lineage, but also rather tired looking. His only sign of office is a jeweled torc around his neck, but you're fairly sure this must be Prince Aurad, youngest brother of Queen Aurala and governor of Fairhaven. He's certainly younger than you'd have expected.

One row beneath the long table are several robed men and women. The open book symbol on their cloth-of-gold robes and the Octogram medallions suggest that they are priests of Aureon. Whether they possess actual divine power, like a cleric (like Streko), you're not sure.

The only windows in this chamber are very high above the ground, two circular, stained-glass windows on opposing sides, admitting sufficient daylight but keeping it out of anyone's eyes directly. The walls are lined with elegant everbright lanterns, but they glow only dimly.

The circle at the center of the chamber seems the focal point of the room.

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Arcana checks:
Belarin 1d20+11=29
Charis 1d20+3=8
Condign 1d20+4=15
Grafth 1d20+3=22
Kal 1d20+7=25
Streko 1d20+7=16

[Darren]

As Kal walks in, he offers Lady Korvine a respectful nod, as one colleague to another. He bows to the prince, but says nothing as he rises, just waits to be addressed with his hands folded patiently in front of him.

[Ken]

Belarin swallows hard as he steps across the large, arcane symbol on the floor. As they stand quietly in the intimidating chamber, he resists the urge to fidget. He looks as though he'd be more comfortable fighting a demon-possessed ogre.

[Joe]

Streko nods at the Jorasco cleric respectfully and smiles warmly at Hemmy, wiggling his fingers at her before returning his attention to the stoic audience that awaits him and his friends.

His eyes wander about the massive and majestic room. While he would prefer the outdoors and, perhaps, even the plains, he feels oddly, and perhaps ironically, comfortable in his room. There is a sense of order here that he suddenly realizes he has missed of late.

He looks up at Kal, whom he is sure is much more comfortable in these surroundings and gathers strength from him. His eyes catch Lady Korvine and he nods his head yet again, offering her his silent, but deep respect.

Looking back up and towards the Prince, Streko decides it would no doubt be most prudent to follow Kal's lead in this courtly situation.

[Jeff's backup]

Condign follows the group into the throne room. While massive in size, the tiefling feels confined by the imposing stone walls; the vast open lands of the Demon Wastes know no such building. He is further amazed that so many nobles are gather together, apparently without a concern for their safety; similar gatherings among Carrion Tribe leaders often resulted in bloodshed and death.

Following the lead of the others, he heads toward the center of the room, trying inconspicuously to make sure he looks presentable. He takes a position near the back of the group.

[Jeff]

There is a soft murmur among the various seated people as you come forward and stand within the circle. Most eyes seem to settle on Condign. And for the rest of you, being in so formal a setting and among so many humans, Condign does seem to stand out: the large horns, deep red skin, and long tail reminds you further that this man certainly is not human—though some of his ancestors may have been.

Prince Aurad nods at Kal and Streko and those who acknowledge him. He consults some paper in front of him, reading from it. "Lord Kalarian d'Deneith, Lord Streko d'Jorasco, and Lord Ralsor d'Lyrandar, I bid you welcome to Fairhold. And to Lady Charis ir'Vanatar, Master Belarin Malizia, and..." He pauses. "Grafth. I bid you also welcome."

The prince sets his eyes on Condign. "And to the tiefling Condign. I am told that you have brought words from very far away. You have been allowed to bear weapons within these halls, and that is a testament to the honor and courage that you have shown since admitting yourself into the custody of the Sentinel Marshals. I also understand that it was to House Deneith that you agreed to deliver your news. Although I am certain that the Deneith enclave would share any news of great importance with us"—he glances over to Lady Korvine—"I will ask that you share your tale with us here first, when we are ready for it."

Prince Aurad directs your attention to the audience members on the left-hand side. "Representing the House of Sentinel in this gathering is Lady Korvine d'Deneith, Mistress of State Administration. Representing the House of Healing is Lord Werris d'Jorasco. And representing the House of Storm is Lady Vialene d'Lyrandar. They are here today to bear witness to what you have to say concerning the events which have brought you under our scrutiny."

Despite his decorous words, there is a lightness in Prince Aurad's tone that puts you a bit more at ease. He doesn't sound adversarial; he gives you the impression that mostly good things have been said about your party thus far.

The prince indicates the right-hand side of the audience. "Lady Lamara d'Medani was advised to lend her opinion regarding the investigations, and we have heard her statement." He nods to one of the priests of Aureon, who stands and speaks a prayer to the Sovereign of Law and Lore.

"We speak only the truth in the eyes of Aureon," the bearded priest finishes, and it seems to be a proverb as well as a warning. You're not quite sure, but for a moment it seems like the large circle carved into the marble at your feet glows softly.

Prince Aurad continues: "Before we discuss the next steps, I would ask if you would tell your story wherever you believe it begins. Please tell us only what has occurred, not what should be done next. We will come to that soon enough." The prince's words hang in the air, and he looks to your party, waiting to see who will speak first.

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Since you guys have already told the tale to Lamara and Lord Dassek at the Blue Unicorn, no need to type it all again. But you can describe how much you wish to say of the story, what to omit (if anything) and what to add, embellish, or emphasize.

[Josh]

Grafth looks like he's deferring to others.

[Darren]

Kal clears his throat and looks to Lady Korvine before he begins speaking. He starts with the very beginning of events that have brought them here, with the attack on the boarding platform before the lightning rail explosion. While not mentioning the farm that was visited, he does mention the attack by the Emerald Claw soldiers pretending to be a patrol. He continues the story right up to the journey to Passage, leaving out no other details. He does not mention Phorem by name, but he does tell of the other events in Passage, making certain to mention the corruption of the Sentinel Marshal by the Emerald Claw and of the encounter that resulted from his investigation of that matter. Of course, he also speaks of the information given to the party by the captured Emerald Claw soldier and how that lead to their meeting on the airship platform, and how it was interrupted by the dragonhawk rider. Kal speaks of their fight to get away from Passage, and it is here that he ends his story. "These are the facts, your Highness, and I have told them without embellishment. Judge us as you will, but I know, for myself, that my conscience is clean and I feel our actions to be just." Kalarian bows again to the prince as he takes a step back to stand once again next to Streko. He places a hand on the halfling's shoulder and once again offers a nod to Lady Korvine.

[Ken]

Belarin steps forward and bows to Prince Aurad. "I think I can continue the details from where Lord Kalarian left off, your Highness. Thank you for this opportunity to reveal these facts."

Belarin proceeds to tell pretty much the same tale that he did last night. Without lying, he omits any direct references to the Court of Dusk or to his own fey connections, although - knowing that the tale would be incomplete without a mention of Alvek's fate - he does say that the ir'Turiens committed crimes against allies of Thelannis, as well as against members of this nation, and that after the group's victory in Shadowcrest, members of the fey claimed jurisdiction over the captured ir'Turiens.

After he finishes speaking, Belarin says simply, "Again, thank you," and he steps back to stand next to the others.

[Jeff]

There is some soft murmuring among those gathered as Kal, and then Belarin, tell their story. When Belarin finishes his part, Prince Aurad nods.

"Thank you both. I would like to ask you about some particulars. That the ir'Turien family has fallen into disgrace has been plain for some time, but its criminal nature—and the sick and immoral depths into which Malov's family has sunk—was not. Malov himself had fallen into depravity during his time, but it is discouraging to hear that his relatives have followed suit. Your account of the northern estate of the ir'Turiens is helpful. We will see to it the manor is investigated. We may yet have more questions for you regarding the particulars of your story."

The prince pauses, consults some paper in front of him, and glances briefly at those seated nearest him. One of the priests of Aureon nods to him. Prince Aurad looks back to your party. "Though the evidence is quite strong, we do not know for certain if it is Malov ir'Turien, or a powerful imitator, committing these crimes. For now we will assume both possibilities. I am quite sorry to hear that you were not able to bring Alvek ir'Turien back with you. His presence here would have been extremely...useful to us in this regard, both to explain the truth of the book our enemy has been seeking and to determine whether it is Malov himself we're dealing with." The prince's eyes linger on Belarin for a moment.

"But one thing is quite clear to me." The prince stands up and steps down from his seat and out from around the stands. He comes down the main floor and approaches you, stopping only a few feet outside the circle. He's as tall as Kal.

"The inquisitive, Lady Lamara d'Medani, has cited strong evidence that you are innocent of the crimes of which you have some firsthand knowledge: namely the lightning rail attack of early last week and several murders both here in Fairhaven and in Passage. Moreover, My cousin, Lord Dassek, has described in great detail your valorous actions when the ship Dissolution destroyed the White Phoenix. And I—"

"And my boy!" a voice shouts from the right-hand seats. A goateed man with in the well-dressed clothing of a merchant stands up, emotion overtaking protocol. "My boy Wirren was on that ship. And that..." The merchant points directly at Condign where the tiefling stands at the back of your group. "...that man saved him from certain death, and almost burned himself up doing it. No criminal would do that, my prince!" The man's face turns bright red, and he mutters a flustered apology for speaking out of turn.

Prince Aurad smiles and nods at him, looking only mildly annoyed. "Indeed, I've heard this as well, Master Ventor. Although the tiefling has not been accused of any of these crimes. His story is separate from theirs. Although it's quite possible the two are linked. We will come to that."

The prince pauses again, as if gathering his thoughts once more. He looks back to your party. "In any case, I believe you, and the scrutiny of Aureon has been upon you. The irony that none of you are from Aundair is not lost on me." For a moment, he looks at Charis—perhaps because there is very little love lost between Aundairians and Thranes. "But for your service thus far, I thank you. I believe that the harm done to this city and to subjects of the Queen would be graver still without your courage. Lesser men and women would have fled from the threat at hand. You are absolved of these accusations and commended for your service."

At this declaration, some of the men who were seated beside the prince at the raised desk begin scratching away in their ledgers, turning verbal words into legal—even royal—decree.

"When you leave Fairhold today, your weapons will be returned to you at once. But there is more to discuss still. You may speak freely. Do you have anything you wish to say or ask before we talk about how to deal with this threat?"


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