Eberron PbP Story Hour – Chapter 6: Meeting the First
Jebber awoke before dawn for his morning devotions. After prayers, he made his way to the common room to wait for his companions. He was surprised to see Shrapnel. Before Jebber had a chance to ask what he was doing there, Shrapnel began to speak.
“Sleep… sleep… always with the sleeping. You know what, over the course of their entire lives they must sleep half of it away? And that probably, to them, seems perfectly normal. Time sure must travel quickly when you’re only awake for half of it. What’s with that business? Sometimes I wish I could just ‘turn off’ for a set amount of time myself, but I don’t exactly have that feature… at least not in a functioning state…”
Eventually, the rest of the group arrived and, after getting directions from the innkeeper, made their way to the Broken Anvil, a tavern belonging to House Ghallanda located inside the Mason’s Tower. Once there, Kolthak opened the door and looked around for anything suspicious. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he held the door open for his companions.
Lealani pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. “This should be interesting,” she commented in a soft, yet very curious voice, as she made her way inside.
As the group stepped inside, a halfling woman greeted them and asked them to follow her. She led them to a secluded table near the back of the common room.
“My Lady,” the halfling said to the woman already seated at the table, “your guests have arrived.”
The human female in the dark blue cloak had delicate features, dark blue eyes, and sleek black hair bound with silver and turquoise ornaments. She wore a signet ring of House Cannith on her right ring finger and spoke in a soft but clear voice.
“Thank you for coming. We have important business to discuss that relates to the unfortunate death of Bonal Geldem. Please, sit down.”
Kolthak took a seat at the table. “It seems we do.”
Jebber sat as well. “If you were a friend of Master Bonal, I would hear you.”
Lealani slid her hood off, feeling safe enough, and took a seat. “Lady,” she nodded to her, “It IS an unfortunate reason we are meeting here with you today. What can you tell us of this murder most foul?”
The woman introduced herself. “My name is Elaydren d’Vown of House Cannith.” She pointed to glasses and three pitchers – ale, wine, and water – then got right down to business.
“I have been working with Provost Geldem to recover a family heirloom,” Lady Elaydren explained. “We were to meet earlier tonight, but as you know, he never made it. I learned from the Watch what had transpired, and so sent one of my men to track you down.”
She continued. “The heirloom, according to family legends, was locked away in a foundry that dates back to pre-Galifar Sharn. Poor Bonal believed he discovered the location of the foundry in an ancient House Cannith journal. I was going to fund an expedition to go to the site, but without Bonal. . .”Her voice trailed off, then she leaned in close. “Perhaps you would be willing to recover the heirloom for me; for a generous reward, of course.”
“Lady d’Vown,” said Jebber. “I owe Master Bonal much. I would undertake this task for no reward, other than his resuscitation. If such is beyond your current powers, could I ask that he be kept under gentle repose until such time as we return?”
“I will see what I can do,” Lady Elaydren responded with a nod.
Kolthak spoke next. “I’m glad to know he was working with you. Do you know why he might have summoned us to Sharn to meet him at this time? What can you tell us about this heirloom and who might not want it found?” Kolthak paused to pour a glass of ale and drink a healthy slug. “Did Bonal give you the location of the foundry before his death?”
“I do not know why Bonal contacted you. Perhaps he feared for his life and needed help from old friends. The relic I seek is an adamantine plate in the shape of a seven-pointed star about the size of your hand,” Lady Elaydren explained. “It has no special power by itself, but is an ancient schema—a piece of a pattern used by the Cannith artificers of old to craft unusual items. Recover this piece of history for us, and House Cannith will be extremely grateful. I know that the Lord of Blades has expressed interest in it for his own purposes.”
“Do you have any idea why the Lord of Blades would be interested in this heirloom? Also, if we should recover it, how would we find you or can we simply deliver it to a Cannith enclave and have them see it reaches you?”
“I have no idea why he wants it, I just know that he does. Once you find it, you can bring it here to me. As for the location of the foundry, I know that he recovered a journal which should help pinpoint the location. Do you have it?”
“An ancient House Canith journal, you say?” Ilyra asked as she produced the journal from her backpack “You mean this one? The pages are blank… Do you know any way to read it?”
Lady Elaydren held out her hand for the book. Once she had it, they saw both her signet ring and the mithral threads on the cover glow in unison. She opened the book and the blank pages immediately began to fill with delicate script and line drawings. She turned to a specific page, studied it for a moment, and then pulled a folded map from inside her cloak. “The location of the lost foundry is deep within the Dorasharn Tower,” Lady Elaydren proclaimed. “Fifty-seven levels below the tower’s present-day sewer system. I offer you one thousand gold pieces and the good will of my house if you recover the heirloom and return it to me.”
Rathan nodded. “I will gladly venture into the bowels of Sharn to continue the work of Master Geldam. I do beg a small favor though, my Lady. While we embark on this quest, could you make some inquiries regarding any connection between the family Blackthorn and that of House Cannith? My father has spoken of family roots that tie to House Cannith and I would seek to know if that is true. I realize that the link may be fragile at best, but it is something I wish to find out.”
“I will do what I can. But know that House Cannith’s leadership has been disjointed since desctruction of Cyre. I, myself, am loyal to Baron Jorlanna d’Cannith of Aundair. I do not know much about the Sharn-based family.”
“I agree, Master Bonal’s work is worth pursuing,” Jebber responded in kind.
“Well it sounds like a good offer, and it’ probably why Master Geldam summoned us in the first place,” offered Kolthak.
“Good will goes far between houses, Lady,” Lealani smiled. “Master Geldam must have had a reason to want to find this, he isn’t exactly a treasure hunter after all. Something more… and perhaps that is why he called for us.” She looked over each person in the group, her eyes settling on Rathan.”Curious as to why he chose each of us specifically though.” She smiled then looked back to the Lady. “I can’t see how we can do anything but follow this through, for him. We will need some provisions and additional information about the Dorasharn Tower though. Where do you suggest we go for that?”
Lady Elaydren responded, “Dorasharn Tower is one of the oldest towers in Sharn. The inhabitants of the tower live from the middle section and up. Below them, very far below them, is the Rat’s Market, a place to go if you need to buy items that end up in the sewers. You’ll need to find a way to get under the sewers.” She pointed to the map. “The map shows that Valve Cluster E-213 is where you need to enter the sewers in order to get below them.”
“I suppose we should procure torches and such? Will we need rope?” Jebber asked.
“I have no idea,” answered Lady Elaydren.
“Could ye make us a copy of your map? It might make it easier for us to find the way and retrieve your heirloom,” asked Kolthak.
Lady Elaydren handed him the map. “It is yours. I just need it back when you’re done with it.”
“Well, I think that’s everything then,” said Kolthak as he stood up.
“My concerns are answered, though I’d like to do a bit of shopping before we begin,” said Jebber as rose.
Lealani spoke up excitedly. “Well then, when should we set off our on little adventure? I admit, I’ve never been actual adventuring before. I’m more a ‘tell the tale’ kind of girl. Should be exciting.”
Kolthak looked at her very seriously. “Well lass, I think we’re ready after a trip to tae store for Jebber here. No sense wasting time especially since someone else is looking. And lassie, don’t worry about your first adventure. I’ll give you the same advice my father gave me before mine.”
“When trouble starts, it’ll hard to think, so just try to remember one thing above all else. Dinnae get killed!”
“Indeed. The other thing to remember is to not get one of us killed either.” Rathan said with a grin. Hoisting his backpack on his shoulder, “I have plenty of provisions for adventuring so we should be set should we encounter a need for rope or such.”
Lealani blushed hard, obviously this was a dig at her poorly aimed spell earlier. She cleared her throat and said seriously, “I’m sure one of you strapping men can help me along with that.”
“Dinnae worry lass, I think we’ll all work to make sure we all get through this alive. Except maybe the malfunctioning warforged; I cannae make any guarantees about what it will or won’t do.” Kolthak finished his ale. “Just try to stay back from anything hostile and you should do fine. I’d say ye could take shelter behind me but,” Kolthak smiled at her, “but I’m a bit short for that!”
Lealani cracked a smile. “I’d be happy to stand behind you any day master dwarf. I think that’s quite a fine plan! Well, if we think we have what we need or can grab it quick, let’s go. I’ll be needing a nap later; I’m not used to getting up so early,” she grinned.
The group took their leave of Lady Elaydren, purchased their supplies, and made their way to Dorasharn Tower. Once inside, they took the stairs down, down, down to the sewer level. The
tunnels and corridors at this level of the tower were narrow and dark. An occasional window slit looked out upon the crowded walls and foundations of other towers, and infrequently placed torches sputtered here and there, giving off pallid pools of light and clouds of smoke. Even so, rough and dirty people crowded the narrow corridors, and the smell of sweat and sewage permeated the stale air.
One tunnel opened onto a large chamber, where a mix of goblins, humans, and shifters gathered around a small pile of garbage spread across three rotting blankets. One of the goblins shouted, “No pushing! No pushing! There’s always enough for everyone at the Rat’s Market!”
