masterghandalf

Chapter 8: Conflicts of Interest

Irinali regarded the wineglass in her hand for a long moment, swirling the liquid within it around several times before looking up. She sat at the table in Sarrin’s main hall, a brooding, dark chamber lined with stained glass windows and banners depicting the red wolf of Karrnath. She was in her customary place at the lord’s right hand; ir’Sarrin himself sat in his great chair at the head of the table, hands folded before him as he regarded their visitor.

Taneth ir’Dennin was a man on the younger side, his clothing fine and his dark hair slicked back; he obviously considered himself handsome, though in Irinali’s opinion he wasn’t much to look at even so far as humans went, which wasn’t saying much. He was of noble blood, as the “ir” in his surname attested, but his family had little wealth or influence; nonetheless, he’d managed to connive his way into a position as a mid-level functionary in the court at Korth, a fact which he wore with no small measure of pride. He now sat at the table opposite ir’Sarrin, a wineglass held lightly in one hand; a pair of warforged bodyguards loomed behind him. Irinali scowled when she saw them. Perhaps it was mere professional disdain, but she had never cared much for the creatures – imbued with full sentience they might be, but still, their bodies were crude constructions of metal and wood. Dead flesh vivified – now there was an artistry in that, albeit one that the Cannith artificers who had first birthed the warforged in their workshops were unlikely to ever appreciate.

“So, Lord ir’Dennin,” Kharvin finally said, “now that you’ve eaten my food and are enjoying my family’s vintage, would you care to explain exactly what it is you’re doing out here?”

“Nothing terribly exciting, I’m afraid,” Taneth replied, taking a sip from his glass. “I’m merely on a tour of some of the outlying households in the capital’s vicinity, observing how the warlords and ladies of Karrnath are comporting themselves now that the war’s been over for several years and making sure that everything’s being run per the king’s expectations.” He gave a self-satisfied grin, which made Irinali scowl again. No doubt this self-important toady would be inordinately pleased for months, if not years, that reports he’d written had ended up on King Kaius’s desk.

“And?” ir’Sarrin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are my efforts satisfactory?”

“Oh, quite,” Taneth replied. “From what I’ve seen, your guards are well-trained, your manor well-maintained, and according to our records you’ve never missed or stinted on paying your taxes. Got quite a war record too, ir’Sarrin. Very impressive.” He let his words trail off, and Irinali regarded him flatly. It sounded like there was a catch in there somewhere.

Taneth noticed her regard. “Ah, but it seems your… consort? Mistress? Priestess?... whatever her role may be, has noticed that I have more yet to say.”

“His necromancer, actually,” Irinali said; she was pleased to see Taneth flinch and squirm at that realization. In Karrnath, necromancy was held in higher regard than in most of the other nations of Khorvaire; that didn’t mean most people took well to suddenly finding out that they’d been sharing a table with a death wizard.

Taneth gulped and looked back to Kharvin. “The issue is, my lord,” he said, “is that there are certain… rumors about you, and I’d like to be able to put them to rest.”

“And they are?” ir’Sarrin prompted, his gaze suddenly steely.

“Well,” Taneth leaned in, “to put it bluntly, there’s nothing concrete, but there are certain stories going around that put you in connection with a certain organization which I don’t think I will have to name, but which has been outlawed by the Crown. Like I said, you’ve never disappointed our king before, and your war record is exemplary, and so you’ve been given an opportunity to defend yourself against these… accusation.”

“So you want me to swear that I’ve nothing to do with the Emerald Claw, is that it?” Kharvin asked; both he and Irinali noted that Taneth flinched again at the mention of the Order’s name. “Will that satisfy you?”

“It would put certain minds at ease in Korth, yes,” the noble said. “Would you be willing to swear on the Sovereigns that you have no contact with this… organization?”

“The Sovereigns?” Kharvin asked, voice low and suddenly deadly. He stood slowly, regarding Taneth with a glare darker than any he’d used all evening. “Don’t cite the gods at me, boy. Look around you. Pain, suffering, death. We’ve just come off of a hundred year war! If the gods were just, do you think they’d allow a world like this? Therefore, if they exist they must be unjust, and I will not debase myself by worshipping them. Am I clear?”

“Forgive me, my lord,” Taneth said; Irinali was pleased to note that he was shaking slightly. “You still hold to the Blood of Vol; I had forgotten.” The Blood of Vol held that the ultimate goal of existence was to transcend beyond death; as the gods had proven they were either unable or unwilling to help mortals in this quest, they were considered unworthy of veneration. Ir’Sarrin, whose family was long dead, held to these convictions with a particular fervor. Irinali wondered if Taneth was ignorant of her patron’s beliefs and history to ask such an oath of him, or was just stupid. “You may, of course, swear however you see fit, but the king has requested that you do so swear.”

There was a ringing sound as ir’Sarrin drew his sword; Taneth rose from his chair and took a step back, his bodyguards falling in at his side, but the weapon was not intended for him. Kharvin drew the blade across his palm, then squeezed his fist to make the blood flow. “I, Kharvin ir’Sarrin,” he said, “swear on the blood that is within me and the love I bear for my homeland that Karrnath is my beloved nation and Kaius ir’Wynarn, third of his name, is my king, and that I would never take action against them, or willingly associate myself with those who would do the same.” He fixed Taneth with his stare. “Does that satisfy you, boy?”

“Yes, my lord,” Taneth said. “Thank you for your cooperation. Assuming that no further rumors are attached to your name, I wish you good fortune. Well, it is getting late and I have far to go, so with that settled I think I shall take my leave. Long live Karrnath, long live Kaius III.” He turned and swept from the chamber, the two warforged following close behind; the doors slammed shut behind them.

When he was gone, Kharvin turned to Irinali. “It appears that our king has begun to suspect me,” he said. “Not very strongly, or he’d have sent someone more important and competent than that buffoon, but still, it’s worrying.” He paused for a moment, regarding the blood welling from his hand, then looked back at the necromancer. “Well, I may have to bow and scrape before Kaius for now, but my true loyalty is to a Queen, not a king. Contact the Order; appraise them of the situation, and tell them that we may have to move up our timetable.”

Irinali gave a quick, sharp bow. “As you wish, my lord.”

///

Len stifled a yawn as she poked with her fork at the surprisingly well-made slice of ham that lay on a plate in front of her. She and her companions had caught the first lightning rail out of Rekkenmark, but it was still a ride of several hours and it had been late at night by the time they’d finally arrived at Korth and rented rooms at The King’s Blades, an inn near the station whose rather martial name had thankfully reflected the Karrnathi national character rather than the quality of the sleeping arrangements. Len had been grateful to finally have some privacy after several days on the rail, but even with a room she and Yhani had to themselves, she’d still only managed a quick kiss before falling asleep fully clothed on her bed.

She was still tired this morning as she sat at a table with Yhani on one side and Ghazaan on the other, eating breakfast in the inn’s sparsely-populated common room; none of the others were awake yet. “You know, boss,” Ghazaan said as he speared a slice of ham on his fork – his fourth such this meal, hobgoblin appetites being what they were, “I’d never heard good things about Karrnathi food, but this really isn’t bad. Could do with a bit more salt, but nothing’s perfect.” He shoved the meat into his mouth and began chewing happily.

“I’ll be sure to pass your compliments on to the management,” Len said as she began cutting off a smaller piece of her own slice. Just as she was about to raise it to her mouth, however, Yhani’s hand brushed her arm.

“I think,” the elf said quietly, “that we are about to have company.” Looking up, Len saw what she meant; a human woman in a white cape and a half-elf man with a sword slung over one shoulder were making their way directly towards their table. Len set her fork down slowly and regarded them levelly as they approached.

“Do you mind if we join you?” the woman asked as she came to stand beside the table.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Len replied. “My friends and I are tired, and as you can see, we’re in the middle of something, namely breakfast.”

“I’m afraid I must insist,” the woman said, helping herself to a chair; her companion sat beside her. Len glared at the newcomer and saw that Ghazaan was doing the same, but Yhani simply watched them with a veiled curiosity. “My name is Valyria; my companion is Pitar. We’re here to warn you about someone you’re travelling with; I don’t think you realize it, but you’re in terrible danger.”

“How so?” Len asked, her tone neutral, but her curiosity piqued.

Valyria leaned across the table and looked Len directly in the eye. “I’m an inquisitor of the Silver Flame,” she said quietly. “I’ve been hunting for someone for a year now, and I’ve finally found her. You and your friends match the description of a mercenary company this person hired in Sharn, and I saw you in her company last night leaving the rail station. So tell me – how much do you really know about Thyra Entarro?”

///

Thyra yawned and stretched her arms as she made her way down the stairs towards the common room. After all those long days on the rail, she finally felt somewhat rested, and now breakfast seemed like an extremely appealing prospect. About halfway down the stairs, she turned to look into the common room and froze. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing, but sure enough, that was Val, seated across a table from Len and talking quietly with her – and Pitar was with her. Oh, damn, damn, damn. Of all the hunters who could have pursued Thyra, why did it have to be her sister? And why did she have to find her now?

Fortunately, it didn’t look like Val had noticed her. Thyra dropped to her knees on the step and quickly muttered a spell under her breath. By the time she’d hit the wood, she’d vanished completely from sight.

///

“Not as much as I’d like,” Len said; she thought she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she glanced over at the stairs, they were empty. “What do you know?”

Valyria drew a deep breath, as if what she was about to say was extremely painful, and then she began to speak. “Thyra is my younger sister,” she began. “Or at least, she was. I’m not sure what she is now, but I fear the worst. I fear that she is a danger to anyone who comes in contact with her.

“Growing up, Thyra and I were never particularly close – I’m seven years older than she is – but she always admired me and I looked after her. Our family is from Flamekeep, and both of our parents are clerics of the Silver Flame. That both of us would feel a religious calling wasn’t unusual; the Church was pervasive in every aspect of our lives. I trained as a warrior – that’s where I met Pitar, here – and eventually I became an inquisitor. Thyra, though, she always had her heard set on being a priestess. She was bright, beautiful, devout, talented – everyone always expected she’d succeed at that, that there was a brilliant future ahead of her.

“All of that changed when she turned sixteen. She started developing strange magical abilities and became secretive and withdrawn. That in and of itself wasn’t particularly disturbing – teenagers are prone to odd behavior, after all, and our family had produced sorcerers before. She stopped attending services, holed herself up in her room with obscure spellbooks and historical texts, and then, one day, she vanished. A significant portion of the Entarro family savings vanished with her, and it was shortly afterwards that a priest was found dead.”

“Are you suggesting that your sister is a murderer?” Yhani asked. “The child certainly keeps her secrets, but I find that difficult to credit.”

“We don’t know what happened,” Valyria said. “The priest’s name was Brother Nalin, and he was a close friend of our father’s – and a very learned man. We questioned his corpse magically, and he couldn’t remember how he died – but the last thing he remembered seeing was Thyra’s face. I went through his notes, and what I found was… disturbing.”

“Disturbing in what way?” Len asked carefully, a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

“Do you know what a rakshasa is, captain?” Valyria asked. Len frowned – she’d heard that term before somewhere, but she couldn’t place it – and Ghazaan looked equally confused, but Yhani gave a short, horrified gasp. Looking around at the three of them, Valyria continued. “Rakshasas are a race of immortal fiendish creatures; unlike most such beings, like the Daelkyr, who come from other realms, the rakshasa are native to Eberron itself. Legend holds that they ruled this world in ancient times, and that their leaders were beings of such power as to rival the gods. They were overthrown long ago, and imprisoned – some say that this was the origin of the Silver Flame, that it came into being to bind these dark titans – but some rakshasas that were lesser in power escaped. I say lesser, but that is only comparative – they are shapeshifters, illusionists, sorcerers of awesome power, and they want to take back what they believe is theirs, which is to say, everything.

“Brother Nalin’s notes indicated that he had begun to suspect that Thyra might be possessed by such a creature – he’d observed her powers, and they matched a rakshasa’s uncomfortably closely. I won’t bore you with the details of his research, but he must have become certain enough to confront Thyra about it, and that’s where the notes end. I believe his suspicions were correct, and so do my superiors in the Church. An evil creature has stolen my sister’s body and is using it for some unknown but doubtless terrible purpose, and it murdered a good man who found it out. For more than a year we couldn’t find her, but at last we received an anonymous tip that she was in Sharn, working closely with a professor at Morgrave. Pitar and I were dispatched to capture her and bring her back to Flamekeep for exorcism.” Faint tears shone at the edges of Valyria’s eyes. “I don’t know if there is anything left of my sister inside that creature or if there’s any way for me to get her back, but at the very least I promise to destroy the thing that’s desecrating her body. Will you help me?”

“I am curious,” Yhani said slowly. “What exactly do you think this rakshasa’s goal is? So far, if what you say is true, it – or she – has done an excellent job of portraying a frightened girl in over her head and a very poor one portraying an evil from the Age of Demons. What is the purpose of this deception?”

“I don’t know!” Valyria shouted, slamming a fist into the table. “Do you think I’m lying to you? Do you think I want to kill this demon, knowing that doing so might also rob me of ever seeing my sister again? Or do you just not care that your client is a monster that stole a girl’s life, as long as it pays you?”

Len stood partway up, keeping her gaze level with Valyria’s. “I would never voluntarily work for a demon,” she hissed. “But my experience has been that the Church of the Silver Flame has been known to attack first and confirm that their target really was what they thought later, if at all. I don’t think you’re lying, but I think there’s more to this story, and I’d rather not help you kill an innocent if you’re wrong. Let me discuss things with my team, and if we decide to help you, we’ll let you know. Does that sound acceptable, inquisitor?”

Valyria breathed out slowly. “That’s fair, and as much as I could hope for,” she said. She stood, Pitar at her side. “I’m staying at Aureon’s Scroll, down the street. You can find me there if you decide you believe me. If you don’t, but I turn out to be right – I warn you, a rakshasa is a very dangerous thing.”

“So am I,” Len said softly. Valyria nodded once, then turned and swept from the inn, Pitar at her heel.

Len set her hands on the table and breathed deeply, her appetite gone. Glancing up at her companions, she saw that Ghazaan looked concerned, and Yhani lost in thought. Sighing, she looked over towards the stairs, and saw Thyra crouched there, staring at her through the railing, a look of absolute terror written across her face.

“Get over here, girl, now,” Len called, her words cold as ice. “You have some explaining to do.”

///

Well, some significant revelations here! Valyria and Thyra are sisters – probably easy enough to have guessed – and we learn the reason why one of the sisters has been pursuing the other. Valyria is telling the truth as she knows it here, but of course, it’s not the full story. Next chapter we hear Thyra’s side of things.

King Kaius of Karrnath is one of the more interesting “bad guys” in Eberron, not the least because he’s fairly reasonable and dedicated to peace and stability, despite also being a dictator whose official alignment is a big Lawful Evil. Doing much with him is beyond the scope of this fic, but I wanted to show he’s not ignorant of what ir’Sarrin’s up to. He’s not terribly suspicious, yet – if he was he would have sent someone smarter and less easy to intimidate to sniff things out – but it’s only a matter of time, and Kharvin knows he can only get away with so much before the king catches on and ends things rather decisively. This was more of a warning to get his act together than anything. I also managed to work in some warforged extras here. I’ve never been as enamored of them as a lot of Eberron fans are, hence why I don’t have any among my main cast, but they’re iconic enough that not having any show up at all felt wrong.

-MasterGhandalf