Chapter 2: Rites of Passage

[Joe]

Streko nods, take's a bite of the pastry and offers the rest to Grafth with a grin. "Better hurry, or is Tangat faster than you, friend shifter?"

[Josh]

Grafth accepts the morsel but does not immediately consume it.

"Perhaps you are forgetting the other aspect of the book that Phorem may be able to help us with," he says to Kalarian. "That is, the contents."

He turns to the wizard, "We believe the book that Pel holds is of both great value and importance. It was given to us by a dying man, and we have taken it upon ourselves to protect it, in way. Others want it too, and are tracking it. But we do not know why- indeed, we do not know what makes this book so special.

"Can you help us?"

[Jeff]

The old mage looks at Kal. "Allow me to put your mind at ease, Kanarian." He gestures behind him. "Take the book upstairs. We will hide it there."

The door in the hall beyond vanishes, revealing a small chamber with a spiral staircase winding up to the next level. "Right this way, Graft. Streako, straight on up. Please, Dhag, come. Lady Pel, watch your step. The stairs are a bit steep. Hold the rail."

Don't bother trying to correct him, the pseudodragon says.

Phorem nods at Grafth. "I'll help you, if I can. Though I..." He shakes his head. "Anyway, tell me more about this dying man. What is the nature of this danger?"

[Josh]

As they walk the stairs, Grafth relates to Phorem the story of their initial trip on the rail, specifically the attack on Gurend, the rail explosion, and the death of the changeling.

"As for our current danger," the shifter says gravely, "I fear that we are very much in the dark. We have been attacked by several different groups, including the Emerald Claw, with no clear connection between each. We have been given the impression that a man named Malov might be the one directing these attacks against us, though we have no proof as to the true identity of our enemy as of yet."

[Jeff]

If the lower floor of Phorem's tower is the parlor—curiously windowless, elegant, and dark—the top floor serves as both laboratory and everyday living space. Windows with padded benches peer out into the city in its lofty view, the shutters currently thrown open to let the late summer breeze in. Tables, chairs, shelves, and racks line the rooms that flank the central hall. Scrolls, books, and odd devices are tucked away in a somewhat orderly fashion, but various devices are strewn across all horizontal surfaces, serving as paperweights and bookmarks. The western room is a bedroom and study, while the eastern room serves triple duty as kitchen, dining room, and miscellaneous storage. Strange spices scent the air only lightly, a strange mixture of herbs and the pungent aroma of certain spell components. Grafth even notes some Talentan herbs and grasses, as well as less pleasant scents like bat guano.

All in all, it looks like a place where a single man lives with no rules but his own. It has been said that studious wizards often neglect housework and even basic necessities in favor of their complex work, but you don't get that impression here.

I do the cooking, Matheu adds as he flaps his way up from the stairwell and lights on a chair in the kitchen. And most of the tidying. Come to think of it, Grafth is pretty sure there's some very exotic spices hanging in bunches in the kitchen, things he's never smelled before—either from the far reaches of Khorvaire or perhaps other continents!

Phorem is last to gain the top floor, and his breath is a little raspy for the effort. There is a curious edge to his tired eyes. "Malov? It's been a number of years since I've heard his name. Aureon forbid that worm really is alive still." There is some urgency to his voice now. "Lady Pel, please, bring your book into the chamber straight ahead, lay it on the table."

Through the archway is what you can only assume is Phorem's laboratory. The table in the middle is unusual, a contraption that looks like it can be collapsed down to various heights. Currently there's only a few books, potion vials, and scrolls there.

[Lara]

Pel enters the room, moving slowly in order to take in as much as possible. So many of Phorem's things draw her attention. She wants to linger over them, but there isn't time for that.

"You know of this Malov?" she asks Phorem. "I don't know why he wants this book. Gurend wasn't able to explain much before the explosion on the rail. Then Fenwolt and I tried to puzzle out its contents, but he was killed when we were attacked on the road. I am curious about its contents."

She walks to the table, curious to see what happens next, and places the book on it.

[Jeff]

When Pel steps into the laboratory chamber, she notes a large painting on the left-hand wall. Framed in silver, it depicts a beautiful, dark-haired, tanned young human in an elegant green evening gown sitting in a room with an open window, sunlight playing upon her hair and clothing. Carved into the frame at the bottom is the name Mirelle.

On the opposite wall, framed with the same silver filigree, is a perfect mirror the same size as the painting. Within the mirror, Pel can see the painting on the left-hand wall; however, in the reflection the woman is a white-skinned, fair-haired changeling, and she's wearing darker colors as bright moonlight shines into the room. The effect is almost hypnotizing.

When Pel lays Gurend's book down on the table...nothing happens.

Phorem enters the laboratory room himself and turns back to Kal. "There now, young man. No more worries. When I was a novice of the Twelve, I learned of the materials that commonly hinder divination spells. Any wizard worth his weight in copper knows to take advantage of this in his own home. The walls of my laboratory are inlaid with lead." He gestures to the window of the room, and the shutters—unlike the rest, these are entirely constructed of thick metal—swing shut.

"The downside of this coin is that once the authorities learn of your shielding techniques, they often come to you first when something important goes missing...like, say, the duke's wife's necklace of protection." He offers only a cryptic smile.

To Pel, "So this Gurend, he—"

A thought seems to occur to the old mage. He points a finger in the air. "Just one moment....! Gurend, you say?" Then he limps his way over to the bedroom portion of the tower.

[Josh]

Grafth, looking around inquisitively, suggests to Matheu that it seems Phorem is lucky to have him around.

"I could use a hand around my home, I can tell you that much!" The shifter seems rather to enjoy the closeness and simplicity of the space, reminding him perhaps of similar domiciles he'd been to in the past.

"Almost makes you forget how high we are." Moving to peer out of the west-facing window, his thought on that matter quickly changes.

[Lara]

"What?" Pel follows Phorem. "Does this name mean something to you? The man using it was one of my people, as we learned when he died. He was not familiar to me, though."

[Jeff]

At Grafth's words, Matheu eyes him. I am not merely a servant or errand-runner. I am also a sage of extensive and obscure lore.

Phoren rifles through a desk for a few minutes, finally returning with a very small book. "My wife was many things in her day...but idle was not one of them. She used to maintain a list of all changelings—that she knew of, anyway—in positions of power or influence. This isn't comprehensive, of course...but you would be hard-pressed to find such a long list outside of the Royal Eyes*."

"Right here. Gur. A man on this list. My dear Mirelle knew most of them, but not all. I don't know if she knew this one, but according to her notes, 'Gur is Daen ir'Turian's oldest and truest friend, a confidant and sometime messenger. He is perhaps the only man privvy to the secrets of the ir'Turian family.'"

"If this Gur is your Gurend, does this sound like any sort of connection to you?"

____________________________

*Almost every one of the Five Nations has some sort of agency that does covert work for its government. Breland has the Dark Lanterns, for example. The Royal Eyes of Aundair are Queen Aurala's own covert force. You would know next to nothing else about them, however, since they are covert.

Gur is pronounced more like Gyer (one syllable).

[Lara]

Pel takes a deep breath. "That name...." She runs back to the table where she left the book. "That's the name in this book. But who are the ir'Turian family? The name wasn't familiar to any of us."

She flips through the book to find where the name is written.

"Do we really have some clue here?"

[Darren]

Kalarian perks up a bit. "That name. It sits on the edge of my mind, as though I know it from somewhere, but I can't quite place it. Can you jog my memory, little dragon?"

[Jeff]

Matheu looks at Kal and swishes his tail behind him. As I am both a dragon and considerably more svelte than typical members of the infantile race of humans, I will let your implication slide. The pseudodragon blinks his reptilian eyes once. But unfortunately for you I am a sage of greater things: cosmology, science, landscapes of Eberron, the natural world, archaic texts, planar realities, and various religions. But for a few important names—such as, oh, the ir'Wynarns*—the 'noble' bloodlines of humanity and their histories have yet to glean my valuable attention.[/i][/color]

"Matheurynivorak, please," Phorem huffs, "Must you antagonize our guests?" He turns to Kal. "Please be not offended. Learning how to treat with dragons of any size seems a science in itself sometimes."

"Malov was a wizard of the ir'Turian family, once based in Fairhaven. A respectable family, until that vile man came along. He was a true villain; studied at the Arcane Congress just long enough to learn some pretty dark spells. Gathered others almost as bad as himself and undermined the institutions of Aundair during the war. Even before Malov was destroyed—so it was believed—the remains of his family fled Fairhaven altogether, left their estate behind. Rumor was, they settled somewhere in the countryside far from the city. I don't know where. I don't think much has been heard from them since, but it's only been two years."

___________________________

* Ir'Wynarn is the bloodline of the royal family of Galifar, blood that makes up the royal families of each of the splintered nations that came from the once-united Kingdom of Galifar: King Boranel of Breland, Queen Aurala of Aundair, King Kaiuis III of Karrnath, and Queen Diani of Thrane—all of them and their immediate families are of the ir'Wynarn bloodline, distant cousins.

[Joe]

"Two things I would like to note that come to mind. First, is there an image of Malov in one of your books, or a detailed description of him that might make it easier to know if I he is the man I came across in Fairhaven. Secondly, I might have an idea concerning Malov's present whereabouts...should it ever happen that we intend to visit the man. Granted, this is merely a hunch on my part, but it seems to fit with the available pieces of the puzzle we have been presented with thus far. If only I could be sure that the man I encountered was, indeed, Malov."

[Darren]

"Is it possible that Malov stole this book from the ir'Turian family? How long ago was he their wizard? There is a map that was stuck within the book. It mentions the Forest of Secrets. Does that mean anything to either of you?"

[Lara]

Pel removes the scrap of paper with the map on it, and offers it to Phorem.

[Jeff]

Pel flips to the front of the book, where the name Daen ir'Turian is written.

First, is there an image of Malov in one of your books, or a detailed description of him that might make it easier to know if I he is the man I came across in Fairhaven. Secondly, I might have an idea concerning Malov's present whereabouts...should it ever happen that we intend to visit the man.

"I have never seen the man," Phorem says. "I couldn't say what he looks like. But he was a wizard, Master Streeko, and had used spells to change his form many times. He is a master of subterfuge."

Is it possible that Malov stole this book from the ir'Turian family? How long ago was he their wizard?

"Malov was of the ir'Turian family." He looks to Pel. "Daen? He would be the patriarch of the family now, the head of the ir'Turians since Malov's disappearance. And Gur was Daen's right hand man. You're saying this book...was Gur's?"

To Kal, "Forest of Secrets...hmmm."

Matheu flaps into the air and lands upon the table, snaking his head down to peer at the scrap of paper and the book.

[Darren]

"If Gurend was Daen's right hand man, and if he had possession of the book and was concerned that 'they' would hear him when he was on the rail, then maybe HE stole it from the ir'Turians? What is the disposition of the family these days? Is there a streak of evil throughout, or does it stop with Malov? The question is, are the ir'Turians our enemies or our possible allies?"

[Jeff]

Taymra seems to be warming to the conversation, eager now to puzzle this through. She looks to Kal. "Only you would know that, I think. What did you think Gurend's....Gur's intentions were? If he was killed in the rail explosion, perhaps he was defecting? Betraying his friend Daen? So the question you're posing is, are Daen and Malov on the same side?"

Matheu leaps from the table, wheels through the air, disappearing into another room. Tangat barks at him in a playful way, but the pseudodragon ignores him.

Phorem tugs absently on his beard. He looks at Kal. "I couldn't really say. No one's heard from the ir'Turian's in quite a while. The family is an old one, with ties to the Queen. But when Malov's reputation grew out from the Arcane Congress, they were shamed. They stopped attending public events, stopped...everything. Only Malov was ever seen or heard from. I think the patriarch at the time, Malov's brother, died shortly before Malov himself was brought down by agents of Houses Orien, Deneith, and Jorasco, and friends of theirs. That would mean that Daen, Malov's nephew, would have been considered the family's patriarch when Malov was killed. But by then the family had withdrawn from Fairhaven."

"Uncle," Taymra says, "If this Malov is as bad as he sounds...if he's really behind the rail attack—and the frequent attacks against us—and if this book is this Daen's, or even Malov's own....shouldn't we—?"

"Inform Baron Kwanti?" The old mage approaches the book, glancing at Pel. "Perhaps. But we cannot go to him with this unless we know for sure. I'm the last one he'd want to listen to right now. If we had solid evidence that he was actually orchestrating all of this, then it should go to the Queen herself."

Sighing heavily, Phorem flips through a few pages of the book. "Perhaps...I can look through this, see if there's anything else to learn." He looks weary.

Matheu flaps back into the room, carrying a scroll case. He pops open the side and unrolls a map: Khorvaire. He starts studying it.

Phorem looks back up at Pel. "You are all too young to be dealing with this."

[Josh]

Grafth has been staring out the window, listening to the conversation. He doesn't feel the need to add to it just yet. He turns to Goran and Dhaz, speaking normally, but low enough not to disturb the discussion. "I was thinking- the warforged that attacked us in that hallway- it seemed that they weren't really there for us, and were in fact seraching the building before we entered it. They murdered a resident before we fought. I didn't get a chance to inspect at this man or his home, but he seemed to be the scholarly type.

"What do you make of this? Are we connecting things that don't actually connect?"

[Joe]

"And speaking of connections, dear Grafth...Master Phorem, you just said that you thought..."

"...the patriarch at the time, Malov's brother, died shortly before Malov himself was brought down by agents of Houses Orien, Deneith, and Jorasco, and friends of theirs."

"Is it me, or does this configuration sound familiar? Lord Kalarian, an agent of House Deneith, Taymra, an agent of House Orien and, well...I bear the mark of healing and the patronage of House Jorasco, although I'd hardly call myself an agent. Not to mention our most esteemed friends and colleagues, Tangat, Grafth, Goran, Pel, and our missing allies Oss and Cutter. All of this occurred, as you say, on an Orien Lightning rail, with Deneith guards and members of House Jorasco healing the wounded. This is much too coincidental for me...and as a cleric of my most blessed Olladra, I'm believe that coincidence is not just an expression of the love of the Host or the whim of the Dark Six, but of meticulous...MORTAL...preparation, as well."

[Jeremy]

Goran looks at Streko.

"Are you saying there might be a grand conspiracy to bring down all the great Houses of this land? If so, then certainly we could expect yet more of the slaughter and chaos of the War."

Goran looks puzzled and paces about, not looking at anyone in particular.

"I don't know if we can imagine that sort of grand conspiracy yet...and I'm just an ignorant forester who spent most of his life hiding in the wood...but it occurs to be that the attacks in that...Inn, were not aimed at us nor anyone in particular, they may just have been deliberately spreading mayhem, and blame. Remember the flames to the south, glowing in the distance while we fought there?"

Goran pulls out the dagger, and places it on the table where Matheu and Phorem can look at it, if they wish.

"The Lady of the House Deneith gave me this, as token of her desire for our safety and success in solving this riddle. It clearly has some magic in it, and seems to have acted as something of a signal when danger was nigh to us...I hope it has not acted also, unwittingly..."

he says with a nod to Kal,

"...as a beacon to our presence."

Goran looks at the others.

"I think it is time we finally let fall any remaining hopes as to who might be involved, so that we may be prepared to see the truth, ugly as it might be. At this time I would be willing to believe any of the Houses, or none, were involved. We must be ready to accept that certain rogue elements of any or all of the great Houses may be a part of this growing pandemonium."

"But then, as I said, I know little of cities and politics."

[Lara]

Goran's words filter through the room. Pel thinks on what he says for a moment before speaking.

"It seems you speak some truth, Goran. If there is a larger conspiracy at root here, it seems to me that it would be folly for us to take it on. But what we can do is to take it apart. To deal with the parts of the whole. The parts we know about, that is. We've been given the book, which would seem to be one part. What of others?"

[Jeff]

Phorems shakes his head. "Conspiracies? Nothing so grand, I would imagine. If Malov is behind this, he has far more enemies than allies. If someone else is masquerading as him, well then, I wouldn't know what to think. If it's this book he's after, therein lies the answer, I suppose. What have you learned about it so far?" He looks to Pel, to Kal, to whoever has an answer.

Forest of secrets? Matheu gestures with one claw at the nation of Aundair on the map. It's very obvious, isn't it?

[Josh]

"Once something is whispered, is it really a secret anymore?" Grafth asks, looking around at the others as if he's said something amusing.

[Jeremy]

"If Malov is behind this, he has far more enemies than allies. If someone else is masquerading as him, well then, I wouldn't know what to think. "

---

Goran notes the remark, while looking at the map. He has perked up at the thought of forest and field.

"I will say that since we've heard that name my heart has misgiven me. I cannot say why, but I believe there is some falsehood who puts his name our thoughts and in this mess. He may not be innocent, but I do not think it is he who we truly seek."

He looks at Pel.

"Could there be yet another Changeling whose motives are less noble than yours, or Gur's? As I said, we must be willing to accept that anyone could be involved, even those we profess allegiance to. For my part, I'd be willing to accept that someone from the Reaches were involved...if that weren't so laughably unlikely."

[Darren]

Looking down at the map, Kalarian rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You're not wrong, Grafth, but the Whispering Woods do appear to have a 'western cleft.' It may be the closest thing we have to a clue with regards to that map."

"As for conspiracies, I think that Pel is right. We take things one step at a time. I agree with the old man here that Malov probably does have a lot of enemies, and if we can figure out who our friends are, we can certainly get help from them. So far, Orien and Deneith seem to be on our side, or at least those members we've had occassion to deal with. Until they prove otherwise, I suggest we use those resources to our advantage." Kalarian begins to pace the tower while his thoughts continue. "I think we need to learn more about the ir'Turian family. I want to know where they stand, and who their friends are." He whirls on his heel and makes a beeline for where Phorem and the dragon are. "Who can get us that information?"

[Jeff]

Taymra shrugs. "That's not the sort of thing you can find in a library. News of what happened to this ir'Turian family...that's, well, a matter for bards. Chroniclers. Perhaps some gossip among other noble houses? Is this something you're any good at, Kalarian? I certainly am not."

Phorem waves his hand dismissively. "All right. You are my guests and these are weighty matters that require some serious thought. But 'without wine there is no conversation.'" He gestures to a tall chest against the wall, and the lid raises, revealing several bottles of chilled wine.

Dhaz inches closer.

"So please, make yourselves at home. Give me some time, and I will see if I can make sense of this book. Matheu, would you please put the kettle on? Mister Graft, Master Streeko, would you care for some tal?"

Grafth, Streko, and Kal are familiar with tal: a beverage from the Talenta Plains, introduced to the Five Nations by the halflings of House Ghallanda. Made by steeping herbs in boiling water, its serves many purposes depending on the herbs that are used. There are dozens of varities. Goran, meanwhile, cannot help but be intrigued by a foreign tea he's never heard of in the Eldeen Reaches!

The pseudodragon launches from the table and flaps into the kitchen, where you soon hear the rattling of pots.

Taymra walks over to the old mage and speaks with him in hushed tones for a short. He eventually shoos her away again, pulls up a chair, and stars leafing through Gurend's book.

The Orien heir gestures around and offers a slight smile. "For the time being, this is home base. Sound good?" There are a number of chairs all around. "While he reads, we can figure out what you want to do. Kalarian, I know you wished to go to the Deneith enclave. Perhaps you can do that soon." To everyone else, "What are your thoughts?"

Dhaz withdraws one of the bottles of wine and starts snooping around the pantries for some glasses.

[Darren]

Kalarian takes the cup of tea in both hands and breathes deeply. In Halfling, he says, "Aaaah...tal. A tea worthy of a true warrior. Many nights did I enjoy a cup of this with a group of noble halflings during the war..." Kalarian seems to drift off into thought, then finally takes a drink from the cup. Setting it down on the table, he addresses Taymra.

"I suppose I could begin to ask around about the ir'Turians. See if I can't charm some information out of a Chronicler or two, provided you can point me in the direction of one. I can ask around at the Deneith complex, as well. I think our next move should be to head there while your uncle examines the book. Or, at least, I should go there if the rest of you would rather wait here."

[Jeremy]

Goran takes the tea and enjoys it, if possible, even more than Kal.

"Pel, by no means was I insinuating that we not try to face this crisis and do what we can, and Kal, I was certainly not proposing that we not take help where we can. My point is simply that we must be even more vigilant that we do not trust someone just because of their title, or their association...for instance."

He sips the delicious brew gratefully...more soothing than some healing potions he's had!

"I don't believe that all the Houses are aligned in some kind of grand conspiracy, either. That would be too unwieldy and unlikely. But this Malov, if it truly is he, is not operating alone my friends, and we would be fools to simply count his enemies...without counting first his allies."