Chapter 12: Shadows in the Dark

[Dave B.]

Mouth full of more cheese and sausage, Shorak rises and can only nod his thanks as he chews the last of the food. He follows with everyone else.

[Joe]

Streko also takes more food, intentionally dropping some for Tangat and stuffing some in his mouth. He nods to Rashade as he passes by.

[Darren]

Kal offers a respectful nod to Rashade. "You are most accommodating, sir." As he turns from the table, he surreptitiously kicks the food dropped by Streko away from Tangat before the wolfhound can eat it. He glances quickly at the dog and shakes his head slightly, distrust of Rashade still leaking through the bond they share. Kal strides confidently to the front of the group and follows the seneschal up the stairs.

[Jeff]

Tangat whines but follows Kal's lead and ignores the food.

Rashade watches in silence, then remains standing with the stillness of the dead as one by one you leave the dining room.

At the top of the stairs, the seneschal steps aside and gestures to a narrow table pushed against the wall. There is an open book, an inkwell, and a pen resting there.

Above it hangs another portrait of the fat man with his features still concealed in shadow. In the painting here, he is standing upon this very stairway, looking up at the viewer as though the viewer is fully upon the second floor and looking down towards the foyer. Guests appear to be arriving, though their own features are shadowed. Once again, while the well-dressed fat man stands in the foreground, shadows fall upon him in just the right way to hide most of his face. Only those eyes bore into you.

"It is customary," the seneschal says as he points to the open book—where you see two open pages of blank lines. "when passing beneath the Sovereign's portrait, that guests here leave their mark. No need for your signature. Please write only the name of one who you desire to see deceased." The book appears to be half filled already.

Belarin recalls the superstition of speaking the name of an enemy when passing by the visage of the Keeper. This name-book seems to take the religious practice a step further.

Through an open door to the right you glimpse some sort of study or laboratory. Shorak can see the colorful lights indicating the presence of a portal therein.

On the steps, Kal, Shorak, and Streko are the first to notice a new figure standing behind the railing nearby (western side of the room). A young human woman in a pink and violet gown, looking as though she's dressing for a party. She looks insatiably curious and has emerged to stand at the railing to watch your party. Behind her, the door is open.

[Brian]

Condign makes his way to the front of the line. "Let us be done with this, and be done with this realm." He carefully sets pen to paper and scribbles out a name.

Lamara d'Medani

With his mark placed, he steps out of the way, making room for the next to sign.

[Dave W.]

When Adamant's turn comes, he writes in precise, block lettering:

Branash ir'Serrel

[Joe]

Streko turns to the Seneschal. "What if the one you wish decease is, in fact, undead? Would that mean he is to be destroyed utterly, or would his undeath favor him somehow?"

[Jeff]

The well-dressed mummy smiles and it is unpleasant. "That is largely irrelevant. Undeath is not absolute death."

[Darren]

Kal moves to the book, and seeing the name Condign wrote he smiles. It is not a warm smile. "Perhaps our combined desire will see the deed done," he says to Condign as he repeats the name of Lamara. Returning the pen to the book, Kal turns to the girl. He bows to her. "Good evening, my lady. If it is, in fact evening? It's so hard to tell in this place..."

[Dave B.]

Shorak does not hesitate as he writes Krez, both in common and drow.

[Jeff]

"Is it?" the woman replies to Kal. "Are you...alive?"

You hear a rustling sound in the room behind her, and then another figure emerges from that room. Kal and Shorak noticed this other one, the masked elf, earlier, but the rest of you see her now. Without saying a word, the masked one takes the young woman by the arm and pulls her back into the room.



The young woman tries to wave. "It was nice meeting—"

The door slams.

[Joe]

Apr 12, 2016 21:34:16 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The well-dressed mummy smiles and it is unpleasant. "That is largely irrelevant. Undeath is not absolute death."

"Fine."

Streko writes down the name Krez, then turns to Shorak. "Seems we have the same thought about this, my friend."

[Jeff]

On the page before him, Belarin can see the names his friends have written:

Lamara d'Medani
Branash ir'Serell
Lamara d'Medani
Krez
Krez

Then Histra takes the pen and adds a name he doesn't recognize:

Evix ir’Marasha

She nonchalantly hands him the pen.

[Darren]

Kal watches the woman go and shrugs his shoulders. "I guess it wouldn't have worked out, anyway. The distance would have torn us apart...."

Glancing over Belarin'so shoulder, Kal says, "Ooo, Krez is a good choice. But I want to see him die at my own hands. Lamara? The Keeper can have her..."

[Ken]

"Some scores are not quite settled," replies Belarin simply.

He writes:

Malov ir'Turien

[Dave W.]

"I have to say it is an odd ritual." Adamant comments to Streko, "I thought I would have a hard time with it. But there is one person who put us in front of that book."

[Ken]

"I thought about writing Branash's name as well," adds Belarin softly, "but that may require... a personal touch. Not something to be left to a god."

[Dave B.]

Apr 13, 2016 12:02:46 GMT -4 Joe said:

Apr 12, 2016 21:34:16 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The well-dressed mummy smiles and it is unpleasant. "That is largely irrelevant. Undeath is not absolute death."

"Fine."

Streko writes down the name Krez, then turns to Shorak. "Seems we have the same thought about this, my friend."

"The Merrow Down wouldn't have been attacked if we were able to finish Krez off on the open sea." Shorak says to Streko. "I feel somewhat responsible for that. Of course, that's not the only reason to end him."

[Brian]

"We have much to do when we return," Condign says, running his thumb along the edge of his mace. "The sooner we get back, the sooner we can start." He turns to the seneschal. "Are we allowed to proceed?"

[Jeff]

At Condign's request, the seneschal directs the party into the expansive study. It seems a chamber of contemplation, scholarship, and—given the bone-themed decor—possibly religious pursuits. Bookshelves filled with books line the walls. In the middle of the room stands an oversized cherry wood desk with a large chair behind it. Beneath is a thick carpet with an arcane design upon it more suggestive of wizardry. Candles and wall-mounted braziers keep this room well lit with flickering glows.

On a table in the corner is a large silver bird cage. Within, a black owl with yellow-green eyes stares back at you. All of you have one of these owls at least once before.

Once you have filtered into the room, Histra nods and looks around.

"There," she says, and points to a place halfway between the desk and the western wall. There is a disk of sheet-thin black hanging in the air horizontally. Belarin hadn't noticed it, but he realizes he's standing closest to it, just a few feet away. Shorak, in looking at it, sees the vortext of colored lights begin there and vanish into the ceiling. This is one of the portals.

"An open threshold," Histra says with a hint of reverence—not a common sound from her. "Very great magic wrought this."

From the doorway, the seneschal speaks in his passionless voice. "There is no watchword to use the portal, but it does require some concentration to direct the point of entry."

Histra nods, then looks at Belarin. "We have but to step through it. To do it carelessly means we would not influence our point of arrival. Most likely it will be a place tied to the powers of this plane. A crypt, a cemetery, sometimes within a tomb or coffin. Neither can we choose a precise location. What we can do, if we all agree, is to envision the same thing, is arrive in the same destination—wherever that may be. This is an art, not a science." She reaches out and takes his hand. "This time we cannot allow ourselves to be separated."

Condign, in looking back, sees that Razza, the disturbing woman with the mask-like face, is peering around the seneschal at the top of the stairs. She smiles at him.

The caged owl issues a plaintive whistle from its cage.

Tangat whines and brushes up alongside Kal's leg almost like a cat.

[Dave W.]

Apr 14, 2016 9:30:59 GMT -4 Jeff said:

From the doorway, the seneschal speaks in his passionless voice. "There is no watchword to use the portal, but it does require some concentration to direct the point of entry."

Histra nods, then looks at Belarin. "We have but to step through it. To do it carelessly means we would not influence our point of arrival. Most likely it will be a place tied to the powers of this plane. A crypt, a cemetery, sometimes within a tomb or coffin. Neither can we choose a precise location. What we can do, if we all agree, is to envision the same thing, is arrive in the same destination—wherever that may be. This is an art, not a science." She reaches out and takes his hand. "This time we cannot allow ourselves to be separated."

"I have had enough of being separated. So, we are to imagine the same location and then all step through? Holding hands perhaps?"

"What location? It would have to be one we all know. As tempting as it is to return to High Walls, we do have works to do in Stormreach still."

"Kal, can you influence Tangat to imagine the same place? Or perhaps one of us should carry him?"

[Brian]

Condign frowns at Razza, then makes a shooing gesture. "Go away. Rashade has not summoned us yet."

Turning his back on the woman--or whatever she is--he looks down at Streko. "It is the horns, you know. Women are drawn to them like gnomes to mead. It has been a curse my whole life."

[Jeff]

"We can't truly determine the place," Histra says to Adamant. "It's not a teleporter for anywhere you wish to go in Eberron. It will be somewhere near to this location in Stormreach." She indicates this room, this hosue. "But to stay together and not allow it to entomb us, we need to agree on something by focusing our minds. What is a place, or thing, that each of us here can envision? A shared experience."

[Dave W.]

"Our rooms in Stormreach? Or the Merrow Down?"

[Ken]

"Based on what we know, the Merrow Down is not a good choice, unfortunately," says Belarin. "Where have we ALL been in Stormreach? We've spent a good deal of time apart since we arrived. I can think only of our rooms with Larest... and the Coin Lords' hall. Now that would be fun, but not very wise. There's also the crypt entrance to the ir'Serell estate, but that may not be a welcoming location, either."

He looks at Histra for confirmation or another opinion on that last point.

[Jeff]

"A good idea, Adamant." Histra nods. "Each of us spent many days aboard the Merrow Down, yes?"

She looks around, as if confirming that everyone here was aboard that ship. "Then I agree, that is the best option. Again, it will not take us to the ship, or what remains of it, but the shared experience can keep us together. It is...difficult to explain, but I am familiar with this phenomenon. We wish to avoid separation, and arrival in a place of Dolurrh's choosing. Understand?"

"Everyone, focus on...the upper deck of the Merrow. At...daytime, I suppose." She looks to Belarin. "Can you describe it for us? The more sensory our collective imagination, the safer this will be."

[Brian]

Condign closes his eyes and concentrates on Histra's words. He pictures the deck of the Merrow Down, the wood planks, the tall mast. He can almost smell the sea air....

[Dave W.]

"I will rely on your understanding, Histra; I believe it is beyond me."

"Tangat?" Adamant address the hound, squatting down to it's level, "Will you permit me to carry you as we did at the bridge?"

---

Assuming that works for everyone, Adamant will carry Tangat and picture the Merrow Down with the mid-day sun warming the deck.

[Darren]

Kal looks down at Tangat. The dog's recollection of the Morrow Down is better than anyone else's for he remembers the way it smells, the sounds of it, everything on a sensory level. Through the bond they share, Kal can feel the swaying of the ship, and man and dog breathe in the salt air together. "We are ready," Kal says to his friends.

[Joe]

Streko loses his eyes and, for just a moment, he can almost feel the waves beneath the ship carrying him forward. He envisions the sun warming him as the cool sea sprays across the bow of the ship and into his face.

For just a moment, Streko smiles, fully reliving the experience in his mind's eye.