Eberron Book One Stories
Page 12
Two Days
He watched the movement on the stage and had to admit, he was impressed. Despite the distance, his elven eyes allowed him to see better than most of the men and women inside the actual establishment. The grace and control was absolutely enthralling, and he found himself admiring more than simply observing. Not that the potential there was lost on him, the absolute rhythmic control was a dangerous asset by one trained to use it in combat.
The War Dance, he called it, the blend of steel, steps, heartbeats, of grunts, yells, screams, of combat wildly harmonizing together. One who could listen to it could use that rhythm, blend their body into the tempo, they could become an instrument of that visceral song. They could invoke something primal, and be utterly deadly. He watched the movement on the stage, the potential was there, his blood pumped fast, the heat in him rising. He was enthralled.
She was disgusted, the vulgar displays the wakeful used to entertain themselves seemed so primitive, so basic, she could not comprehend how these beings could possible be an obstacle, yet they were. The dancer had the potential to be dangerous, but she doubted it, a true kalashtar would have recognized her instantly, he seemed unaware of her presence. It was no matter, he was not her prey.
She left the establishment and walked the dark streets of Sharn. This body was tiring and she would have to return back to her home and let the body rest while she reported to the others. Weeks she spent following the tracks of her quarry, and she knew she was finally close. A minor setback nearly ruined everything but luckily a new resource was nearby she could tap. She enjoyed the feel of this one, and the training it possessed would be most useful.
She clenched her hand and felt the mental energies begin to gather. She liked toying with her resources, and being able to cut its hand with the energy of its own mind proved to be more fun than she expected. She stopped at a tower ledge and looked down into the city. Across the city, many wakefuls fell quietly into dreams, foul invaders. She was only interested in one however, and she could feel the beast out there, fearful. She looked forward to the opportunity to devour her.
He devoured the remnants of the dry sandwich, and already missed the taste. His traveling expenses never seem to cover a good meal he noticed. Sure he could ride the lightning rail which was always both exciting and horrifically terrifying, but a nice meal, or even a cup of real coffee would be nice.
As he drooled over the idea of a fresh cup of hot coffee complete with sugar he bumped into a woman. Quickly he apologized, only to have her fling something in his face. What strange eyes, he though as he wiped his face clean, I've never seen purple eyes like that.
He placed his handkerchief back and slowly made his way back to Morgrave, and the tiny room they had supplied him. Sure it was free, but he constantly got aches from being so cramped in. He knew he would have to pack, he would leave in 2 days and he still had far too many notes to go through.
Why had his mentor leave him so many notes to peruse through? At least he could have left them in some readable language, as it was, it was all gibberish. He wondered if maybe this was his master's final practical joke on him, a farewell gotcha. His master did love playing pranks, and extremely complex ones too, he wouldn't be surprised if this was some complex joke, a final game for his apprentice.
He sighed, he missed his master, being on his own was not nearly so glamorous as he had hoped. And the paperwork, oh the piles of paperwork involved was just staggering, how was ever going to do this! "Why master, why did you put me up for a professorship!" he cried out into the darkness. He missed his master dearly. He reached for his handkerchief, cleaning his spectacles, when he noticed something staining them. Was... was that blood? "Oh Gods! I'm bleeding." he yelled out.
She ran over quickly at the sound and immediately examined the young man for any wounds. He stood frozen there, constantly murmuring about dying young, oh the woe, why did he ever get promoted. Finally she pulled him down to her level and slapped him. "You're fine!" Shocked, he thanked her and walked away.
She looked after the poor young man and wondered how someone like him could ever be a professor. She continued her walk through the city, back to where the others waited. Something did not sit right with her, this whole business, the reason they were here seemed too vague. Still, she did not question her duty.
The Order meant too much to her, as did her companions. Never would she have expected those two would be her closest and dearest friends. They all served the Order for different reasons, but their loyalty to each other she knew was pure steel, unbreakable. She always found strength in that bond, in their united devotion. She would never openly admit it, but she loved them both very much. She chuckled as she realized she must have been close enough for them to hear her thoughts.
He was distracted by the noise of laughter below. He saw a halfling priestess laughing to herself. How nice he thought, to be able to laugh so easily. His life was filled with countless new stresses, new pressures. He couldn't lie to himself, he was glad to finally be able to accept the position at the academy. He longed to come back home to Aundair, and though recent events had made his reasons two-fold for going to the city of Passage, he was happy nonetheless.
His wandering thoughts made him gaze back at the large box that occupied a large portion of his room. He couldn't risk leaving it alone, he had to be able to get to it should anything strange happen. It's been unusually active recently; he wondered what that could mean. How his curiosity called to him to simply open the box and gaze into the thing. The things it could reveal to him, the countless eons of knowledge. All he had to do was simply open the box, let the binding spells fail, and all that knowledge would be
"No!" he cried out to himself. He realized he had moved across the room and had his hands on the box. He remembered how many countless people died the last time it was opened. If he opened it here, in the heart of the city, he shuddered at the thought. This thing was ruthless, dangerous, it must stay slumbering.
He walked away, his vigilance returned, in two days he would finally be able to go home, a large burden on his back, but home.
She checked and rechecked her armor, in two days their mission will be done and they will be able to go home, victorious.
He slowly gathered his things, and sighed, in two days he would once again be on the move, but no closer to what he wished to know.
She grinned; it would take no more than two days for her to find her prey. No more than two days to end an ageless hunt.
He cursed, how did he lose him?! He had to find him, two days, he gave himself. "Two days, and one way or another, I'll find him!"
Two Days.
The Angry Scion
It took a momet or two to find the right components, but he was able to finally piece together the wand. With a flick of his wrist he dispelled the darkness that had engulfed him and the town guards.
The fury that crossed his face was reflected in the rippling heat emanating from his dragonmark. "Idiots!" he bellowed as he saw the defeated and unconcious soldiers. Their comrades quickly tending to those who were badly injured the in the fight.
The Liutenant walked up to the angry artificer, not backing down from his powerful glare. "We would have had them, but your life was more valuable then capturing the criminals. We followed your order sir, and released them."
"If you had done your job properly my life would never had been in danger in the first place." The artificer was not about to let some commoner berate him in front of anyone.
"We have done our job properly, right now, the second squad I ordered to watch the entrance would have captured the criminals with little to no fuss."
The man carefully eyed the liutenant, there was more to this him than mere city watch, he would have to be careful. "Lead on then." He said cooly, but his face never released his pent up fustration.
Quickly the group retreated back to the location where they would hope to find the second squad with the captured criminals, however what they saw left them ill.
"By the host!" the normally collected Liutenant said as he gazed upon the charred remains of his men. More than 1/2 a dozen bodies laid dead, burned to a crisp, their armor and weapons literally fused to their bodies from the intense heat that had consumed them.
Even the artificer stopped and stared at the horror. For the bodies were not only burned, but they seemed to continue burning, smouldering as if some infernal fire had consumed them. The artificer smelled vile magic on the air, he felt it emananting from the bodies.
"What, what could have done this?" the liutenant asked, looking to the artificer for answers.
Slowly the artificer bent down to examine one of the smouldering bodies. He didn't know why but something seemed familiar about this scene. The magic was known to him somehow. He touched the body and a surge of energy passed through him.
"I shall rule! I shall once again command my husband's children and we shall reclaim this city as our unholy sanctuary." the voice screeched through him as if thousands of insects had flown through his body.
Quickly he pulled his hand away and cursed at the body. "Destroy them, make sure no trace of their bodies can be put together."
"What? Why!" the liutenant asked, unwilling to descreate the bodies of his men.
"Don't ask why, JUST DO IT!" the artificer yelled. The guards gasped as they watched the glow from the artificer's dragonmark slowly grow, visible through his clothing.
The liutenant stared, he had heard that dragonmarks grew in power, he never thought he would see one happen in front of his very eyes! "I apologize Master Zrath, we shall do so immediately."
Zrath closed his eyes, images of the woman who screamed her return burned into his mind. "This will be a problem Zrath." an unknown voice spoke without speaking.
"I know." Zrath said. "This is no coincidience, only the Scions could do this. We will have to be careful, and watch their movements closely."
"Yes," whispered the soundless voice, "and you my angry scion, you will my blade at their necks."
Zrath smiled.
