Chapter Eight

"Quiet before the Storm."

17th of Marpenoth, 1372

Curren stepped into the early morning light outside the keep. The keep overlooked the inner walls of Firehaven and stood surveying the rest of the camp. The crisp morning air blanketed the camp in a white fog. Curren briefly considered going back inside to get his cloak, but decided against it. The courtyard flagstones rang with his booted footsteps. Curren steadily made his way to the stables. Curren furrowed his brows and shook his head, something felt wrong to him, although he could not place it. The stables were a wooden structure inside the inner wall. Curren walked past the stabler’s apartment and found Fathom, his yellow dappled stallion.

Curren reached out with his mind and gently awoke Fathom. Curren remained connected to Fathom while he saddled him, his thoughts caressing and praising Fathom. The stallion snorted a gust of impatience at Curren. Curren smiled and responded with a gesture and a mental caress.

‘I know, I know we haven’t gotten to ride for too long.’ Curren stroked Fathom’s neck and led him out into the courtyard. Fathom snorted and jerked his head. Curren looked around but saw nothing but the fog filled courtyard. Curren sent a soothing thought to Fathom and mounted the saddle. Curren paused for a moment thoughtfully looking around and then shrugged, a thought nagged at his mind. Curren rode down into the camp and then further until he passed through the outer gates. Curren mentally spurred Fathom into a great hurtling speed allowing the wind to flow through Curren’s hair. Curren rode uninhibited for an hour, giving wide berth to a man scorpion trap and a giant trapdoor spider snare. Curren allowed his mind to expand in every direction. Curren felt the scurrying fear of desert shrews as they hid from the pounding hooves. Curren glanced up at a rocky cliff and sensed the echoed hunger of a pair of falcon’s. Curren closed his eyes and allowed himself to experience the ride through Fathom, feeling the great rush of air in the stallions lungs and the heady froth of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Soon Curren came across the thought patterns of the human he was searching for. Curren withdrew his contacts and opened his eyes again. Curren rode over a slight hill next to a ring of cliffs. The man had a small fire and a sleeping roll. His horse raised its head slightly at Curren’s approach. The man looked up from poking at the fire.

“Morning, Curren. A bit chill this morning aint it?”

Curren dropped from Fathom’s back and patted the stallions neck. “Aye. Good morning to you as well Fentadin. I hope everything is well for you?”

“Well enough, except for the fact that I am a criminal and widely thought of as a coward.” Fentadin Huntcrown poked at the burning log savagely.

“Well we have already discussed that, haven’t we? The Baron will wipe the charges and allow your return to full status once your mission is over. Now,” Curren sat across the fire and extended his thoughts to Fentadin. “have you news for me?”

“Of course. I’m here aint I?” Curren frowned and allowed the contact to establish. Fentadin continued. “The people are talking. All over Cormyr the commoners are stirred up. Cormyr is suffering from a drought unlike we have seen in 50 years, some are saying a magical drought. The War Wizards have been assembled in Suzail to investigate this matter thoroughly. The families are consolidating their forces, all except Dauntinghorn, who still moves ahead with their secretive plans. The son, Addreon, has been open enough in his dislike with the Baron. Dauntinghorn is tossing so much gold around it is amazing. A families fortune, or more, they have spent. The commoners are beginning to raise their voices. Someone, or some people, are rallying them against the throne.” Curren flashed through the details pouring out of Fentadin’s mind. Storing most of them away for future analysis.

Fentadin poked at a burning log and continued. “I don’t know yet who is stirring up the trouble against the crown, although I suspect it’s the exiled nobles and I do know that Addreon has had contact with the exiled nobles and he is the most outspoken against the Baron Firehand. He spends money like water. The drought will cause much suffering this winter if it continues. I have heard that the Regent plans to do anything to end the trade dispute with Sembia by winter, otherwise Cormyr will be hurting bad.” Fentadin sighed noisily. “Also no news on the mage of Shadowdale. Rumor has it he is busy on the sword coast fighting a plague, north of Waterdeep.” Fentadin pauses and looks up at Curren. “Also, will you thank the Baron about the kind letter he sent to my father? He and my mother were worried about me.”

“Yes, of course. It will soon be over. You are more efficient this way Fentadin.”

“I know, I know.” Fentadin frowned again. “But I don’t have to like it do I?” Curren stood up and terminated the link with Fentadin. “All will be well Fentadin, trust in the Baron. He doesn’t require our love or liking, just our obedience.” Fentadin nodded while keeping eyes on the fire. “Hey, nor worries Fentadin. Despite everything, he appreciates your sacrifice and he likes you.” Curren summoned Fathom and mounted. Curren sped off towards Firehaven leaving Fentadin behind struggling with a smile. The morning sun was just peeking over the horizon. Curren rode against the sun deep in thought, trusting Fathom to find his way. The warming light of the sun steamed the dew from the rocks, creating a thick haze that Curren barely saw through. Curren’s thoughts whirled in distraction. The drum of the hoof beats lulled Curren into drowsiness.

Fathom easily avoided the trap door spider and the man scorpion trap on the way back, but stopped at the gates to Firehaven snorting and tossing his head in confusion. Curren threw open his eyes and looked around. The refugee make shift camp, on the outside of the walls, was a hive of activity. People were gesturing and talking loudly , muted only by the thick haze. Curren glimpsed soldiers on the wall doing the same. Curren looked around but saw nothing in the thick haze that was causing the commotion. Curren looked around in frustration, unable to see the cause of the disturbance. Finally Curren extended a thought to one of the soldiers and nearly fell off of his horse. The haze, the dew, the morning fog, all of it, was the cause of the disturbance. Not something in it, but the moisture. Curren slapped his forehead in exasperation, feeling quite stupid for not figuring it out on his own. In all the months he had spent in the rocky desert of the Stonelands he had never seen a cloud nor a fog. Curren called for the gates to open and rode through the camp to the inner wall. Inside the courtyard of the keep stood Daekyn, Atlantean, Vecktyr and even J’Zan in a circle talking excitedly. They stood next to the imported cherry tree that Vecktyr had brought from Halrua. Curren rode up and dismounted. The thoughts of the group swirled in noisy bedlam until Curren dropped the contacts.

“Curren? Morning. I was wondering if you were going to join us.”

“Of course. Strange morning isn’t it?”

“Indeed. What do you make of it?” Daekyn asked.

“Not quite sure. It extends out into the desert for quite a ways. It’s very wide spread.”

“I hope so.” Said a voice Curren recognized. A man stepped away from the cherry tree as if he had stepped from it like a door. “It is my doing.” Curren looked at Atlantean who had stepped in front of Daekyn with his axe drawn. Daekyn belied no surprise as he shifted his black staff to his left hand.

Curren stepped up to Daekyn and said. ”May I introduce the Druid Rhaebben of Weirwynd? Druid Rhaebben, this is Baron Firehand, my liege.”

“Ah, of course, my Baron. How good to finally meet you, please pardon my tardiness. Curren you look well, I am grateful for all you have done.” Rhaebben stood quite tall at six feet. His robes fell loosely in drab brown and yellow, but his clean and starkly black hair was pulled back in a pony tail. He smelled faintly of tea tree oil. A slightly green fiber belt held three small bags. Rhaebben carried a staff of gnarled petrified wood. “I am in your debt my Baron. Sending your man Curren was a stroke of luck and genius. I thank you and stand at your service.”

Daekyn looked around. “Pleasantry aside Druid Rhaebben. Isn’t the natural order of this area disturbed by the precipitation? I would think this would be anathema to your tenets?”

Rhaebben lifted an eyebrow. “An educated man, no doubt about that, simply grand. Your right of course, my Baron, this is disturbing the natural order. But,” Rhaebben held up a finger. “Only on a minor scale. I work towards a greater goal. A grander scheme, a balance unseen on a local level. I shall tell you of it presently, but I have a bit of a surprise for you, if you will allow?”

Daekyn looked around at his advisor’s. “Of course.” Rhaebben closed his eyes and swayed slightly as he gripped his staff tightly. After a minute Rhaebben popped his eyes open and winked at Atlantean who loomed closely.

Daekyn raised an eyebrow in question, then after a few seconds of no response added his other brow in exasperation.

“Is that it?”

Rhaebben looked around in astonishment. Only J’Zan looked faintly interested in Rhaebben. “Yep. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

Daekyn looked slowly at his advisor’s. Vecktyr shook his head negatively. Curren shrugged imperceptibly. Atlantean didn’t take his eyes off of Rhaebben, but still nodded his head. J’Zan was looking straight up in the sky, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide in utter astonishment.

Daekyn felt the air cool slightly before raising his eyes into the sky as a shadow fell across the sun. A large bank of bruised purple and black clouds scuttled across the face of the sun. Daekyn watched in surprise as a curtain of drizzle spattered across the camp and soon began wetting his hair. Daekyn looked back at the group, who had all turned their faces in the sky enjoying the cooling drizzle as it wetted their faces. Only Rhaebben stood facing Daekyn smiling smugly.

“A gift, my baron.”

Several hours later Daekyn slumped in his chair in the conference room in the keep. His brows were furrowed. Rhaebben sat in the chair opposite Daekyn. Rhaebben stared at Daekyn in concern.

“My baron?”

Atlantean reached across the table and waved Rhaebben back. “Shhhhhh. He’ll be awhile.”

“But, he’s been like that for a quarter of an hour!”

“And another or two won’t hurt you. Why don’t you help yourself to a glass of wine Rhaebben.”

Soon Daekyn opened his eyes and raised his hand. A pipe appeared in his hand. Daekyn chomped down on the mouthpiece. Daekyn stood and paced around the end of the table.

“So because of the negative energy of Aunaroch, produced eons ago by the long dead Phaerimm, and its slow encroachment on the borders of the Stonelands, you wish to change the Stonelands into a valley rich with life and abundantly green? Hmmm.” Daekyn furrowed his brows. “For some reason I find your reasons feeble and insubstantial.”

Rhaebben opened his eyes wide and sat back in his chair. His smile slipping from his face.

“However Druid Rhaebben,” Daekyn leaned over the table. “your plans coincide with mine. I will see the Stonelands green. I will have the fields rich and loamy and the cherry trees lining the trade routes.” Daekyn started pacing again., nodding his head. “Yes. Excellent., the ground shall bring forth the life I introduce. Druid Rhaebben what will you need from me?” Rhaebben brought his hands together. “The weather patterns have been changed already my baron, albeit a much quicker change than I anticipated, beyond the moisture I will be spending quite some time in the wilds of the Stonelands encouraging the hibernating life to spring forth. I shall need some protection, I think one man will be enough.” Rhaebben looked over at Curren. “I would ask again if you would be willing to sell your man Curren here to me. I will make a generous offer?”

Daekyn raised an eyebrow. “How generous?”

Curren let out a loud gasp. “MY BARON!”

Daekyn smiled. Atlantean nodded at the smile, it was the first in days. Rhaebben shook his head. “Ah well. I would at least ask for his help in this endeavor. With his talents he may help me faster and quicker than ever.” Daekyn nodded. “Yes, granted. You may take him and another soldier who will focus on mapping the Stonelands. I need an accurate map.” And the location of any humanoid hideout. Daekyn thought. “You will start tomorrow yes?” Rhaebben stood up. “Of course. Come Curren we have much to discuss.” Everyone at the table stood up as the meeting ended. Soon only Daekyn and Atlantean were left in the room.

“My only voice of reason left? Have you anything to impart to me Atlantean?”

“No Daekyn. Not this time, only the caution of a warrior’s instincts. We are meddling in things that may better be left alone.”

“Aye, Atlantean we are. As we always have.” Daekyn muttered. “As we always have. Nothing changes, only the rewards get bigger.”

18th of Marpenoth, 1372

Caladnei stood at the edge of the mesa overlooking Firehaven. There was something very duplicitous about Daekyn Firehand although Caladnei could not put her finger on it. There was a spark of emotion for him, but she was only allowing it to flare in order to ignite some sort of humanity to Daekyn. The attraction she bore him would never blind her to her loyalties or duties. Although it was fun to flirt with him she admitted to herself. She had experienced the exact and perfect response to every flirtation of hers from Daekyn. It was warmth and shock mixed together in perfect unison. Too perfect. Caladnei could not sort through her thoughts. Something about Daekyn’s performance was too pat. ‘Ah ha!’ She thought. ‘That’s it! A performance. He was responding too perfectly.’ Caladnei was not gullible enough to have Daekyn’s response affect her. Ever since she had become Alusair’s advisor the politics of the Kingdom had always been first, and emotions secondary. Caladnei wondered what reason Daekyn had to act that way. It was time to see if she couldn’t find some of the answers to her questions.

Caladnei drew a rune on the ground with her spear tip. Gestured and incanted a spell which drew an invisible line through reality and allowed her to step across a breach in reality to Suzail. The alleyway she appeared in was far from the palace grounds, but just down the street from a non-descript stone building which was her goal. Drawing another spell across her face changed her appearance as she walked down the street. After stopping at a shop she turned down an alleyway and approached a thick steel door hung in a deep set frame. Caladnei set down her package and politely knocked. A minute went by before the steel door opened. A large man stepped out. A giant two handed sword strapped to his back. His face was marked by scars and a scowl. His two bulging arms were thicker than Caladnei’s waist.

The man looked down at Caladnei. A huge smile split his scowl in two and warmth leapt onto his face. “Little sister!” The man swept Caladnei into a bear hug. “It’s been too long. Just because your not blood does not mean your no less family. You been playing up with them nobles too much!”

Caladnei smiled warmly and kissed the mans cheek. “Maybe, Bull, but if you don’t stop squeezing me my ribs will crack.” The man kissed her back on the cheek and let her down gently. Caladnei straightened her robes. “Is the Old Man home?”

“Yes he is. He knew you were coming today.” Bull said as he opened the door for Caladnei.

“Well being a diviner I hoped he would.” Caladnei said as she walked in. The small anteroom held a faded carpet of possible Calimshan origin and a handmade wooden chair carved from a single block of wood. A small table laden with a lamp, a leather bound novel and a small pair of wire framed glasses was the only other furniture.

Caladnei smiled impishly and picked up the novel. Dropping a finger on a random paragraph she began to read, “Her fingers caressed his sword arm, creating delicate trails in the sheen of sweat in his biceps….” Bull grunted as he swung from the steel door and made a grab for Caladnei who gigged as she flipped towards the end of the novel. “Wow….Bull! What does ‘purple swelling manhood’ really mean?” Bull feinted with his left hand for the book, but managed to catch Caladnei under her elbow with his right hand. He gently dug his fingers into her ribs and began to tickle. Caladnei squirmed but lost control of the book and collapsed into a heap at Bull’s feet laughing hysterically. Bull looked down, trying to look serious as Caladnei wrapped a scissor hold around his legs and flipped his feet from underneath him. Bull dropped on his back in a deafening thump that rattled the furniture in the room. Caladnei rolled over to pin him, but his hands swept across her shoulders and spun her over his body to land next to him. Bull began to laugh as she struggled against his arm. Soon she stopped and laughed with him. Tears rolled down their eyes as they hugged each other.

“Rolling on the floor in the dirt as you did when you were kids?” A weathered voice asks. Caladnei looked up to the see the smiling face of an aged man hunched over an intricately carved staff. The man’s wrinkled mahogany skin is rich and full of color despite his apparent age. The small white beard was cut and trimmed in a square. He was smiling with a full set of teeth.

Caladnei rolled up to her knees and took the old man’s hand in her own and kissed the back of it gently. “I have missed you, old man.” Bull stands up and brushes off his clothes. Caladnei stands and smiles and wraps the old man in a warm hug. “Anyway, he tripped me most unfairly, threw me to the ground in a largely harsh manner and he even scowled at me…right before he tickled me.”

The old man looked at Bull, who was trying to control an errant smile. “Hmmm, I see. Well then.” Bull merely shrugged and threw his control aside as the smile leapt to his lips. The old man smiled back and they both looked over at Caladnei who gathered her package from the step outside. She held it out to the old man.

“Your favorite, Kenneth.” The aroma of fresh baked sweetbread wafted from the basket.

“Ah yes…mine and your father’s if memory serves.”

“Yes. I remember plenty of times my father hid my mother’s freshly baked sweetbread when you came calling.” Caladnei smiled.

“I knew the man held out on me. Oh well. It’s good to see you again my dear. How is the business of the kingdom?”

“Square as a Turmian’s beard, Kenneth. As you well know. I have come actually seeking wisdom.”

Old Man Kenneth led Caladnei into a larger inner parlor while Bull secured both the outer door and inner door winking at Caladnei. The room was a jumble of warmth. A roaring fireplace, a luxurious fur rug, two red velvet armchairs and enough throw pillows to drown a horse decorated the otherwise nondescript room. Old Man Kenneth hobbled over to the chair closest to the fire. A small iron tea kettle hung close to the flames, a jet of steam signaling its readiness.

“Tea my dear? Its dry black from Calimshan. I have sugar as well.” Old Man Kenneth busied himself pouring two cups of tea. “As far as wisdom, my dear, you may have knocked on the wrong door. You should have gone to a temple of Oghma.”

“Please Kenneth, I trust your advice more than any God’s” Caladnei sat in the opposite chair and sighed deeply.

Old Man Kenneth looked sharply at her. “Your troubled? Tell me everything.” Caladnei commenced her story about her troubles in regards to Alusair and Jander and the Baron Firehand and herself and the nobles and trade dispute with Sembia. She related the rumors in regards to the undead, the gossip of discontent among the commoners, and the facts of the stretched royal reserves. She talked about ideas, schemes and ploys. She talked about missing Vangerdehast, the health of the dowager Queen Filfaeil and the infant King's first words. Caladnei talked to Old Man Kenneth while Bull finished another chapter in the other room, while the fire burned through two logs and while the bakery down the street sold the last of their fresh sweetbread. When she was finished she noticed her teacup was empty and Old Man Kenneth had his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. She helped herself to more tea, knowing that Kenneth could be a while. Soon the door opened and Bull came in with an armload of wood. He smiled and nodded silently at Caladnei. He tossed another log on the fire and added the rest to the bin beside the fireplace. He drew a small stool from a corner and sat in it, apparently waiting on Kenneth. Caladnei waited patiently. Minutes passed in silence interrupted only by pops from the burning logs. Caladnei felt the tingle of the signet ring on her left hand. Alusair’s thoughts intruded into Caladnei’s mind.

Caladnei? Where are you?’

‘Close, my Lady. Without trying to be rude, I don’t have the time now to explain. I will be home soon.’ Caladnei slipped the ring off of her finger and put it in her pocket.

Old Man Kenneth opened his eyes. A single salty tear meandered down his weathered cheek. He grabbed his teacup with unsteady hands and lifted it to his lips. Bull reached out but didn’t know how to help. Old Man Kenneth grimaced at the tea. “Cold. Bull would you be so kind to warm it up with a spot of tea?” Bull nodded and reached for the kettle. He shook the empty kettle.

“It’s empty. I will make more.”

“I would prefer the spiced orange from Chondath if you would. It’s in the cupboard in the kitchen.” Old Man Kenneth. Bull stood and left the room through a small wood paneled door. Old Man Kenneth watched his departure and then uttered a spell which slowed time down. Caladnei watched the flames move like molasses upwards.

“I needed to say this to you privately.” Old Man Kenneth whispers. “The future of the Weave has always been laid out for me to read. This time it is not. The immediate future of the Realms is washed out by a great blinding flame. Too hot-white to look at, even for me. The eddies of the timeline spin out of control beyond the immediate future. Too many vortex’s and whirlpools of possibilities for me to read. The Realms is finely balanced in this matter. I feel that Daekyn is more than he seems to be, but I cannot see anything of him in the near future. He is in many futures however, in many aspects. He is a key player Caladnei. This time however you are not. Your place is beside the Regent and the infant King. Azoun the IV must survive the coming troubles. Your duty is clear Caladnei. Wipe the feelings you have for Daekyn out and concentrate on Alusair and the King. You have nothing to gain from an association with Daekyn. “

“Yes Kenneth.” Caladnei whispers.

“The winter to come will be fraught with peril. Play the games in court dear Caladnei, that is where many battles will be fought and won.” Old Man Kenneth waves a hand and utters a word letting time slip forward again. Old Man Kenneth leans back in his chair. “Stay for a cup of tea my dear. Let an old man enjoy your company.”

Caladnei looks up and smiles. “Of course. Although I should go back soon, Alusair will be wondering where I have gone.” Old Man Kenneth smiles and nods. Caladnei looks across at the fire. Thoughts spun in her mind.

26th of Marpenoth, 1372

The cavern was large and dimly lit. Hyrkul looked up from his prone position. His eyes still burnt from the aftershocks of the vision. His vision blurry Hyrkul tried shaking his head to clear it.

“Apology accepted.” A low sibilant voice hissed across the cavern. Hyrkul unwittingly winced at the sound. The pulsing in his forehead was starting to ebb. Hyrkul watched as his blackened tortured hand twisted sinuously as he pushed himself up from the cavern floor. Hyrkul managed to stand without swaying and falling over again. Hyrkul managed to draw in more from his surroundings then he was able to before. He stood in a large cavern, roughly 100’ across and 65’ feet to the side. Most of it was covered in crystal growths. Large crystalline structures jutted out of the floor and smaller flowering crystals decorated the walls. Sheets of crystals of varying colors flowed out of ceiling. Hyrkul could not see the owner of the voice.

“You intrigue me, humanoid.” The voice scratched. Hyrkul spun, which almost sent him to the floor, but saw nothing.

“Who…wha…” Hyrkul began.

“SILENCE!” The voice echoed in Hyrkul’s mind. “Master is what I am to you, and master is what you will refer to me as. Be glad I allowed your mind to remain intact. You will serve me better….whole.”

Hyrkul gulped managing only a nod. “Mas….Master I am yours. Will we move against the human soon?”

“No.”

“No? Master, but it would be the….”

“DO NOT QUESTION ME AGAIN SLAVE.” Hyrkul slipped to his knees and grasped at the pounding voice in his head. “I have eternity to wait. This human will be nothing to me. His army isn’t large enough to even make me worry and I am more than a match for him. No we wait, as we always have. He will die and more will come and more will die of old age before I am ready to move. He is nothing to me.”

Hyrkul felt the rage swelling in his heart. “Yes, Master. Of course, Master.”

"Good....good. Let your anger swell. Let hate dominate your feelings. If your good Hyrkul I will embrace you into our fold before you too die of old age. Then forever will be yours as well.” Hyrkul nodded. “Shove the thoughts of this Daekyn from your mind. There are more important things to work on. Like your education for one.”

Hyrkul winced again. He was afraid of what the master had promised his education was going to be. Hyrkul felt the tickling sensation in his brain as the Master invaded with his mental fingers, probing deep. Hyrkul began screaming as the white hot flashes enveloped his mind.

6th of Uktar, 1372

Captain Aeryn Dauntinghorn stood on the wall above the gates of Firehaven clutching a crumpled parchment in his left hand. The construction on the outer gates was proceeding quickly and should be completed soon, but now the workers were leaving for the day. The setting sun cast long shadows across the road in front of the gates. Aeryn looked at his shadow stretching into the shadows far ahead. The dust plume of a caravan rode into the darkening sky to the east, soon joining the ever present clouds. Aeryn allowed a smile to turn the corners of his lips, the plume reminded him of the smoke of a prairie fire. A fitting metaphor, if his suspicions were correct about the coming visitors. Aeryn looked down at the edge of the gates and into the greening grass at the roadside. The embryonic green growth colored the roadside like the whiskers on a 13 year old boy.

Aeryn turned his eyes into the sky and felt a drop of moisture splatter against his cheek. Aeryn stared at the multi hued patchy clouds above. The setting sun threw the shadows of the mesa’s against the underbelly of the clouds in a grand display of shadow puppets. Aeryn turned his eyes to the road again, a lone rider on a magnificent stallion of deep chocolate approached Firehaven. A riding cloak of sky blue covered the rider with a mask to correspond, only the eyes of the rider shone as the proud steed drew in close to the gates. Aeryn knew the horse and it’s rider. Winddancer and his older brother Addreon. Aeryn stirred enough to bring the crumpled note to his viewpoint. Aeryn heard the watch at the gate call out to Addreon. Addreon responded in the deep resonant voice that he shares with their father. A voice that inspires loyalty, demands respect. A voice that falters in Aeryn , too high in pitch and young in inflection, Aeryn snorted, a voice that broke if too excited.

Aeryn turned and began the descent as the gate was opened for Addreon. Aeryn was at the last landing of the inner steps when his brother strode in, unlacing the mask and loosening the folds of his riding cloak, trailing clouds of dust.

"Crack the oats man or I'll crack your hide." Called Addreon over his shoulder. Addreon glanced around and saw Aeryn. He took two more steps before stopping and allowing the cloak to finish the fall away from his face. Addreon gazed at his brother with a hint of a smile on his face. Addreon stood in the dusty road, his cloak and clothes dusty and dirty from traveling, while Aeryn had spent the last few days polishing and buffing his armor. Aeryn knew every stitch was mended and every color on his uniform re-dyed resplendently. Aeryn stood tall and proud, with his chin up and his wide brown eyes scrutinizing.

“You’ve grown, Ari.” Addreon smiled.

“I am an officer in our majesty’s Purple Dragons, knighted by the Steel Regent, Oversword of the Stonelands and the adjutant to the Baron Firehand himself.” Aeryn allowed his stare to soften. “None of which have ever been allowed to call me Ari.”

“Apologies, my brother.” Addreon spread his hands in surrender with a wide smile. “I am but an overworked son who has traveled far to bring business to your Baron. My titles are unimportant to such significant people such as yourselves. A poor merchant peddling his wares far and wide.”

“Poor merchant Addreon?” Aeryn walked down the last steps. “Farther may strike your name from his will if he heard you say that.”

“Yes, well what Father doesn’t hear about can’t hurt him. Can it?” Addreon looked around at the darkened streets with one raised eyebrow. A few sputtering torches lit the staging area inside the gate. Only the square from the watch room was lit. “Can a poor dirty travel stained merchant find somewhere to clean up and get some rest? Or is everything closed this early?”

Aeryn felt the old emotions bristle up, but managed to swallow most of it. “This is a military camp with very few civilian amenities offered. You will lodge with me this evening.” Aeryn nodded towards the gate. “Your men following you will need to find their own bedding outside the walls.”

“What of the coarse encampment outside?”

“Civilians who come seeking the Baron’s generosity.” Aeryn turned and started walking up the street. “This way Addreon.”

Aeryn led his older brother up the main road briskly. Turning aside further attempts at conversation. Aeryn led Addreon into his small stone house and supplied hot water and clean linens for Addreon to clean up with. Aeryn brewed some tea and cut a generous amount of spice cake and served it with a bowl of apples on the utilitarian wooden table in the center of the bottom room of Aeryn’s small house. A small fire warmed the clean and tidy main room. Addreon sat tiredly in a chair across from Aeryn. A wet towel still draped around his neck, his hair unkempt but decidedly stylishly handsome he had removed his outer wear and wore only his underclothes. Aeryn had removed his armor but remained dressed. Addreon leaned across the table and chose an apple. He glanced down at the teacup and smiled and he winked at his younger brother.

“Orange bitter from Amn?”

“Actually no. It’s a surprise. I won’t tell you until you try it.” Addreon raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Aeryn sipped his own tea as his brother munched contentedly on his apple. Addreon finished the apple completely, leaving only the stem, he reached for the tea cup and took a small reluctant sip. Addreon’s eyebrows shot high above his eyes and he murmured as he drank deeply. Soon enough his cup was empty and he lowered his cup, he licked his lips exaggeratedly.

“What was that? A hint of spice, something deep and exotic, reminds me of the color red for some reason. This was like a mixture of dry black from Calimshan, but spicy and certainly not dry, or bitter. Tell me Aeryn!”

“Well actually its made by some locals in the Stonelands. A small flowering tea leaf which only grows in their valley, from what I gather. It’s actually quite rare and very unique.”

“Indeed, it is my brother. Anyway can I buy some?”

“It’s not for sale Addreon. The Family will not make a profit on this one.”

“Nonsense Aeryn! You’re speaking profanely. Anything can be made into a profit.”

“This can’t, Addreon.” Aeryn drew his hand across an imaginary line and stopped Addreon’s response. “Tell me why you are here, you didn’t come here to discuss tea.”

Addreon smiled and nodded his head slowly giving Aeryn the impression he had been waiting for the proverbial ice to be broken.

“Profit Aeryn, what else?”

“I expected nothing less, but why here? A little out of your influence isn’t it?”

“Influence brother? If you mean business impact then no it is not too far.” Addreon sighed. “I shan’t be drug into an argument again about something that happened long ago, Aeryn.”

“Good, then tell me what brought the family to Firehaven. What brought you personally out here so far away from the manipulations of the court and the noble busybodies.”

“Tsk, tsk. Aeryn we came for profit, we came for business, I came;” Addreon paused and smiled. “I came for you, my little brother. It’s been years and a little family never hurts does it?”

“Funny you should ask that certain question.”

“Now, now. Family is like a healthy body. Wounds heal and scars fade.”

“Do limbs ever get the chance to regrow brother? Is Father changing his mind?”

“Father is old. Father is stubborn and change is hard for him.” Addreon grabbed another apple and took a large crunchy bite. “Fatherh ish shick Aeryn.” Addreon lowered his eyes dramatically, swallowing the bite. “He won’t be with us much longer, I have taken up much of the Family business. His heart has troubled him ever since…well ever since the war.”

‘Ever since I left to become an officer you mean right brother?’ Aeryn thought.

“I was hoping to visit you, have you introduce me to the Baron and allow some…”

“Ah I see brother.” Aeryn interrupted. “nepotism never hurts much does it? Hoping for some fat government contracts then with your little brother as an insider?” Aeryn smiled evilly. “Well you haven’t met my Baron Firehand yet. You’ll be surprised that this man, unlike your noble cronies, is actually a strong willed, intelligent man. Maybe not born to privilege, but certainly deserving of it. You may have come with some hope in your venal heart to use me like a pimped whore, but I am not under your influence anymore. Nor Father’s. I am a man now, a man of honor.” Aeryn stood up and pushed his chair away. Addreon raised his hands in supplication.

“Whoa, wait Aeryn. I didn’t mean…”

“Of course, you never mean anything by what you say.” Aeryn nodded towards a small door next to the stairs. “Your room is in there. I have changed the linens and candlesticks. I am up early, so help yourself to the larder when you awake.”

“Now come on Ari, don’t go yet.”

Aeryn flashed an angry look at Addreon. “Do not refer to me by that name.” Aeryn stepped away from the table, then turned back to Addreon. “I will set up a meeting for you with the Baron at three bell at the keep. Be prompt.”

“Well thank you little brother. See? No need to get irate.”

“I don’t do this for you ‘my brother’ I do this for the amusement I get from seeing your face after talking to Daekyn Firehand. You are in for a rude awakening.” Aeryn strode to the stairs and disappeared upstairs. Addreon watched him go, slightly bemused. He played with a small gold band on his left ring finger. Turning it over and over.

“Testy.” Addreon whispered under his breath then went to look for his own room.

That night Addreon had the same dream he had been haunted by these last few months. Addreon dreamt that he knelt in the grass beside a roadway. The grass was lush and vibrantly green and warm to the touch. Addreon unsnapped the last buckles from his breastplate and let it slip to the dappled grass beside him. He added his heavy leather gloves and his riding cloak. The sky blue cloak flowed over the small pile, similar to water. Addreon stripped himself of every vestment and article of heavy clothing until he was in his undershirt and short pants and a small gold ring on his left hand. Even his woolen socks made it to the pile.

Addreon looked about the small grassy clearing next to the roadway. The road took a sharp bend up ahead, obscuring his view, and dropped down a sharp hill behind him. Addreon was hidden from view. Addreon turned towards the line of thick trees that lined the clearing and resolutely walked towards them. As he drew close Addreon adjusted his path to intersect with the third Blueleaf to the right and closed his eyes. He felt the slight resistance he always dreamt about, as if he was passing through webs. After Addreon felt the resistance stop he opened his eyes. He was on the edge of a sinkhole surrounded by Blueleaf’s and oak trees. The rocky face of the cliff was heavily colored by orange and tan leaves. A large deep pond lay at the bottom of the sinkhole. Its waters were a melancholy azure that twinkled in the filtered light of the afternoon sun. Leaves gently floated on an unseen breeze down the expanse interspersed with thousands of cotton puffs as they all drifted lazily down to the pond. Swirling around.

Addreon looked down at the surreal vision and felt the same anxiety as he always did. He looked at his left hand and saw the gold ring seeming to pulse with a warmth and life of its own. Addreon slowly removed it from his hand and with a small gesture he sent the ring tumbling over the brink towards the pond. Halfway down the ring glittered and a flash lit the sinkhole in a bright purifying light. The light swept through Addreon and woke him instantly. Addreon lay crumpled in the sweat soaked cotton linens. The blanket lay on the floor, kicked off in the night. The early morning sun glimmered through the wooden slats in his room. Addreon looked around. At first glance the room seemed utilitarian and spare, but Addreon had the long practiced eye of a merchant. He noticed the intricate detail and care that was put into the wooden furniture around him. The ceramic vase and bowl, on his nightstand, at first glance seemed unadorned and plain. Addreon looked closer and closer until he held the bowl in his hand. His eyes adjusted as he looked closer at minute detail and woven patterns of the bowl. Addreon’s eyes widened in surprise and delight as he noticed the flair of the detailed glaze, he set the bowl back down on the nightstand.

Addreon washed his face and hands, mildly surprised at the clarity and purity of the water. He briefly wondered if they had it shipped, but immediately dismissed the thought because of the prohibitive cost of it. Addreon walked into the tidy room he had been in the night before. The fire was out, but the house still remained warm, almost hot. Addreon noticed a piece of parchment attached to the bowl of apples.

Dear Brother, You are still asleep as I write this. You have my sincerest apologies for my behavior last evening. I will arrange the meeting with the Baron for you. Please present yourself at the keep at 3 bell.

Yours truly,

Aeryn

Addreon grinned and dropped the note to the table. Three hours after lunch would be perfect. First order of business would be for him to meet with his men at the caravan. Addreon flipped an apple against his bicep and caught it in midair. A wild grin on his face. He grabbed his clothes and hurriedly got dressed and left Aeryn’s house. Addreon did have to admit that he was impressed with Aeryn’s progress, and he would have to reevaluate his little brother in future dealings. The youngest officer in Purple Dragon history, and then again the youngest man to be promoted to Captain, and all without the help of the Family. Most of the family had thought Aeryn would never amount to much, and being the fourth brother, he wasn’t expected to. Everyone, including Addreon, thought Aeryn was destined for a cushy clergy job filing papers somewhere, or managing a small portion of the family business somewhere far from court and therefore safe. However he chose the army and created a mess that Father had never forgiven him for. Addreon didn’t care what Aeryn did with his life, he only cared what Aeryn did when it affected the Family. Addreon dropped the smile from his face and thought of the meeting later this afternoon.

7th of Uktar, 1372

A knock sounds at Daekyn’s inner chamber. Daekyn looks up at the very expensive Waterclock in the corner. It is half past morning bell. Daekyn, having had a long and tedious night going over potential trade issues within the Stonelands looks up from a desk full of papers, He puts down the clay pipe he had been puffing on.

Daekyn says. “Come in!”

Aeryn enters. Looking a bit disheveled. Atlantean comes in after him and sits by the door, almost as if hovering like an overprotective hen.

“Good morning my baron. Please pardon my tardiness, I didn't sleep well.”

“I can relate Aeryn. Things are in the final stages of production, before I would say we are, officially online, so to speak. The trade with the Orc village needs to be addressed, as well as several other issues, not to mention a few points of security and the formal organization of the Crimson guard.” Daekyn puts his pipe down. “I also have been reading the reports from the Western borders, they do not bode well so far. The faster we can get the guard online, the quicker we will be able to settle the issues on the western border.

Aeryn blinks and holds out a sheaf of papers. “I agree my Baron. Here is a list of all the commoners who have agreed to stay on and sign up for your Crimson Guard. Between your speeches and Atlantean’s, um influence. I believe every man, but one, has signed up. Especially for the apparent benefits they will receive.” Aeryn pauses and knits his brows. “The western front sir? Along the Farsea Marshes? Has the Steel Regent requested more of our men?”

Daekyn glances down at a missive from the Regent. “Not so much as requested per say. She has simply kept me informed of her desire to make sure things are settled there and secure.” Daekyn looks over at Atlantean. “Atlantean, I certainly hope that you are choosing men that can be trained. Once they are ready, I want to be able to utilize both platoons of Purple Knights to deal with issues outside of Firehaven.”

Atlantean nods his head and grins evilly. “Every one of them can be trained sir. Maybe not as officers, but everyone can be honed and sharpened and utilized.” Atlantean glances up and over at Aeryn. “That isn't what I am worried about sir.”

“Oh? what worries our new Sheriff?”

Atlantean looks down at his hands. Then shakes his head slightly. “The changes sir. The rain, the grass. The lack of word from the Orcs. The emissary left several weeks ago and hasn't come back. We should have traded that special pottery of Vecktyr's and be done with it.”

“Well, we will tend to that in the next few days. I have decided to let Curren handle the negotiations, he is considerably more adept at it then Vecktyr. I am sure Rhaebben will allow him the time necessary for the task.” Atlantean nods his head.

Aeryn clears his throat. “Sir? I believe I have news about the trade route, or the trade...um.....The Trade with Cormyr, sir.”

Daekyn raises an eyebrow at Aeryn. “Well, excellent, I suppose that is as good a place to start with as any then. You have the floor my young Captain.”

Aeryn shuffles his feet momentarily and says. “Well sir. Last evening a member of a 'prominent' noble Family came to our gates. He has requested a meeting with you.”

“Really?” Daekyn reaches over and picks up a large book, the daily sign in logs. He scrolls down casually reading through the list of names until he sees one that causes him to raise an eyebrow and look up at Aeryn. “I see...”

“Yes, sir. My brother Addreon Dauntinghorn, eldest son of the Family and representative of my Father's. His....'interests'....may be mercantile and without emotion, but he is honest enough in his trade dealings. The Family's resources are...shall I say....far reaching and prosperous enough that I think that dealings with them may be the lesser of some evils you may choose from. My baron.”

Daekyn chuckles. “Well Aeryn, I certainly would say that he has a good reference if you are giving him an endorsement. Does he share your same level of competency?”

Aeryn clears his throat nervously. “Sir I should point out, enthusiastically, that I am NOT endorsing him because of him being family. In fact I am as ostracized as you can get and still be alive.” Aeryn manages a small chuckle. “My brother is a complex man, who when I was a child wanted to be like. He is not now, nor I think ever will be a man I choose to aspire to be like.” Aeryn draws himself up, his voice deepens slightly. “I am my own man, a loyalist to the Crown first. A soldier sir, without family.”

“I would not say that you are without family Aeryn.” Daekyn says. Atlantean looks over at Daekyn.

“If by that you mean my extended family in the Dragons, I do not disagree.” Aeryn smiles. “I do think he may be the lesser of two evils, sir. The Dauntinghorn's have been succeeding very well in extended markets, especially the Dragon Coast and the war ravaged areas of the Cormyrian border. They have several unique charter's with the Crown that allows them to gain advantages over others.” Aeryn holds up a hand. “You are of course in charge and at no obligation to even meet him, my baron.”

Daekyn nods knowingly. “Actually Aeryn, I have come to think of you as closer to me than a mere soldier in my command. Your advice and enthusiasm has been, exceptional. And if you believe it would be in my interest to meet with this estranged brother, then by all means, I will schedule a time for him. But I do have one question...” Daekyn looks up at Aeryn sharply.

“Yes sir?”

“Will you be comfortable attending the meeting with me? Because if you are not, then I see no compelling reason for you to be present and certainly would not hold it against you if you did not want to. I certainly don't enjoy being around people with whom I have a dislike.”

“Sir. It is not as bad as that. I can control myself, and certainly Addreon is always in control.” Aeryn looks over at the Waterclock. “I have told to present himself at 3 bell after lunch, is this acceptable?”

“This is acceptable Aeryn, but what I wanted to know was, would you be comfortable? And, I think even more importantly, would he be more revealing of his intentions if you were not present?”

Aeryn smiles. “My brother is never revealing my baron. However comfort is not an issue. He did stay with me last night sir. As a civilian inside Firehaven walls, I could not allow him free reign.”

Daekyn nods and says. “I see. Then I would like you present for the meeting. You know your brother far better than I do, and will be a better judge of his reactions afterwards. Be mindful of them so you can debrief me afterwards.”

“Yes, sir. I look forward to your meeting.”

Hours later Daekyn, Atlantean, Curren, Aeryn and Sgt. Stoan were in the main reception hall in the inner keep of Firehaven. The room was adequately stocked with furniture, food and drink. However the decor was more of that of a monastery. The inner decor was not yet a priority. Daekyn's hawk, Syd, sat perched on an ornate oak stand slightly behind Daekyn. The three sat at a long table on a slight dais. Before them were several other tables and chairs, set up similarly to a court of law, where patrons could make presentations and requests. A set of double doors opened after the bells were rung for three bell. The clatter of Addreon's boots rung through the hall as he was led into the room.

Addreon walks in the room, resplendent in his sky blue tunic and slightly darker pants. Although of unassuming cut and trimmed in leather instead of gold, it gives the impression of luxury. Addreon is flanked by two people. A woman and a man. The woman is fairly tall and very ugly. A ragged scar rips across her squat broad nose and her limp short hair outlines a high forehead. Only her eyes shine with any intelligence. A small greasy haired man follows closely behind. He nervously fidgets with an equally greasy mustache. His eyes dart between Atlantean and Daekyn nervously. Both stop and bow as they enter while Addreon smiles broadly and holds out his gloved hands in a sweeping motion. He executes a short bow to Daekyn and throws a wink at Aeryn.

"Baron Firehand. How honored I am that you have consented to see me on such short and horribly rude notice. Allow me to offer an apology at my lack of advance warning."

Daekyn says. “Apologies are not necessary Mr. Daungtinghorn. We have come to expect the unexpected here in the Stonelands. However, as you can see, although we have done much, there is still much to be done here at Firehaven, so you will excuse me if I dispense with pleasantries and get to the point. Of course you know Aeryn,” Daekyn motions to his left and then to his right. “And this is my Sheriff, Lord Atlantean.” Daekyn leans forward ever so slightly. “Whom are those that accompany you? and what can I do for you here today?”

Addreon smiles and sweeps his hand to his right indicating the woman. “Of course. This is Hergaerydd, my financial advisor.” Addreon turnes and briefly indicates the man. “And this is Trent d'Varon a trusted aide. With all pleasantries aside at your request. We are here to discuss what not you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” Addreon pauses briefly dramatically. “I am here to discuss the establishment of consistent trade between Firehaven and its many needs and wants to Cormyr. You have much on your mind and cannot be bothered with mere details, but I can, for I am but a mere merchant whose life has been dedicated to details. I will look after all the petty unimportant details in linking Firehaven with Crown and Country.” Addreon finishes with a flourish.

Daekyn looks down at his hands. “So, you are looking for an exclusive contract to run the Merchant's guild here in Firehaven?”

Addreon shakes his head in a grand gesture. “Exclusivity is a death wish my baron. You would be signing a promise you shouldn't ever keep. Competition is good for business, my baron. I would never presume so much as to ask for exclusivity.” Addreon leans on the table. “No, I wish....'First Rights' mayhap...more along the lines of 'quid pro quo'. My trade for your homeland security. Rates are lowered, when overhead is reduced my baron.”

Sgt. Stoan leans over to Daekyn and hands a small note surreptitiously to him. It reads. ‘The small greasy man is the one who was asking about you at the East Garrison after your arrival.’

Daekyn glances at the note and says. “I am afraid you are too late for "first rights" . I have already hired a competent manager for the Merchant's guild here in the Stonelands. However, there is still plenty of time to get in on the ground floor.” Daekyn folds the note and raises an eyebrow. He then nods to Stoan and looks back at Addreon.

Addreon eyebrows knit in consternation briefly. “A manager my baron? Certainly no other family in Cormyr has reached Firehaven before I have. The Huntingcrown's could not possibly....ah no I see. An attache-de-campe would be acceptable, of course, my baron I expected nothing less. I am only asking for the link, between Firehaven and Cormyr to be our domain. Protected by your troops, trade will flourish. I have already noticed that the Stonelands have a lot to offer for trade as well. The link would be vital and enduring. Certainly not very risky at all.” Addreon clasps his hands in front of him. “I am asking only for your exclusiveness to your protection. Nothing more, of course.”

Atlantean leans forward, his voice is calm and stern "Mr. Dauntinghorn, as I am sure your brother has already informed you, protection through out the Stonelands is already exclusive; it is exclusively guaranteed to all loyal citizens to Cormyr, and all those who wish safe passage. Only if you raise a sword to Cormyr, in one form or another, does that negate that protection.”

Daekyn smiles slightly, and then interrupts. “As I stated Sir, if your company wishes to sign on now as members of the merchants guild, you are free to do so. As a member, you are authorized lodgings within the grounds, behind protective walls, and are free to do business here. I run a free market here Mr. Dauntinghorn. If you are able to provide the best services, then you shall certainly prosper.” Daekyn allows the steel to edge in his voice. “However, free does not mean dishonest or unethical. Any disputes between rivals are handled by the manager of the guild. Or me if the situation warrants, and Cormyrian law is strictly enforced.”

Addreon begins twiddling with a small gold band on his left hand. “Of course, of course. Protection over all, I am sure. But sometimes where a Purple Dragon is or isn’t; is all that matters between life and death. My caravan was attacked five times since we left the East Garrison alone, not including a ridiculous attempt at banditry near the border of old Tilverton.” Addreon realizes he is fidgeting and regains composure. “I am asking for the escort of Purple Dragons for EVERY caravan my baron. Hiring and keeping guards is prohibitively expensive and cuts profit tremendously.” Addreon smiles like a shark and nods at Atlantean. "I am sure that your sheriff would agree yes?"

“Prohibitive is a subjective term.” Atlantean says.

Daekyn is silent for a few moments. Then he picks up a log book and glances through it. "I see you did not file an incident report about these attacks when you arrived. Please see that you do. As for escorts, patrols of the Purple Dragons along the highways will be significantly increased very shortly. As for personal escorts, the Purple Dragons are reserved for escorts of dignitaries, however, as a member of the merchant's guild, part of your dues go towards paying for individual escorts at no additional charge. However, for those that require added security, additional met-at-arms can be purchased through the guild at significantly reduced prices.” Addreon's smile falters. “We are also initiating a program for members of the guild to carry special signaling flares to be used only in emergencies.” The small greasy man begins carefully examining the room in detail. Daekyn notices his every movement and the lingering sneer the man has on his face.

Addreon steeples his fingers at his chin and think for a moment. After a moment ddreon nods knowingly and smiles again. “I have brought a gift my baron. Not to be confused with a bribe, but an honest gift of a loyal citizen of the Crown to another struggling citizen. I have brought Rabbits, chickens, especially Cormyrian Red Breasted egg layers , Goats, hounds, breeding Pigs, Cows, Horses, bulls and sheep.” Addreon watches Daekyn’s reaction carefully. “I also have brought 5 extended wagons of lumber and all important building materials. Plus my mother has urged me to bring several wagons full of extra uniforms for the Dragons stationed under you at behest of the nobles of the Court. She really is a kind hearted woman.” Addreon pauses dramatically then raises his voice. “And the greatest gift I bring is for your men. The first shipment of civilian post. I have a chest and two large leather sacks of mail for your soldiers.” Addreon lowers his voice and allows a hint of tension to penetrate his voice. “You can be assured, my good baron, that I will be personally overseeing the trade with Firehaven. I may even decide to live here, in Firehaven.”

Daekyn remains unsurprised by the statement of gifts. He leans over to Atlantean and whispers something unintelligible. Addreon toys with the ring on his left hand again. Almost as if in nervousness. Atlantean rises and leaves the room through a side corridor.

Daekyn then turns to Addreon. “Mr. Dauntinghorn, your gifts are appreciated. I am certain that our minister of agriculture will be happy to see the animals and our architects will certainly be availed of any supplies.” Daekyn pauses. “And I believe that your enthusiasm will do you well in attempting to establish a presence for your business here in the Stonelands. From what I had heard, I was fairly certain that you wouldn't share one of Aeryn's better qualities with him, that being his enthusiasm. But I see you have followed his excellent example.” The greasy man snorts loudly enough to be heard then tries to cover it with a cough. Addreon nods and glances at the door Atlantean left through. “I only pray that Aeryn's success here is not a fluke, and that you will be at least half as successful here as he has been.”

"Of course, my baron. Our interests lie on a parallel path. My financial advisor has a contract prepared for you to peruse at your leisure.” Hergaerydd stands up holding a large stack of papers. She shoves them gently across the table. “I have also brought one thing for you my baron intended as the most blatant bribe I can manage......” Addreon nods at the small greasy man who holds up a small casket. “A special cask of berry wine from the vineyard of the brothers Asterweynd near Waterdeep. A favorite of yours I was told. It is the finest they have ever made and parted with it most reluctantly.”

Daekyn smiles and says. “Ah, YOU were the one that out bid me then.” Daekyn chuckles, since he remembers what his last offer was on the wine. Daekyn holds up a hand and pushes back the papers that are in front of him. “I appreciate all the time you went to put these contracts together Mr. Dauntinghorn, however;” Daekyn is interrupted as Atlantean returns with Miyae Kaede. Addreon stands as she enters the room and bows to her. “Ah, Miyae, good. Mr. Dauntinghorn, this is the Guildmaster, Lady Miyae. She will meet with you later today and have YOU sign all the necessary contracts for membership in the Merchant's Guild. The Guild, among other things, will provide you with an office and storerooms within the guild, and a residence for your employees that maintain your office. Additional living quarters can be purchased or rented through the Guild. She has a standard contract already prepared.” Miyae smiles and courtesies at Addreon, her eyes sweeping the room. Daekyn catches the barest hint of annoyance directed at the greasy man. Addreon's smile slowly fades. Aeryn moves a hand strategically in front of his mouth.

Addreon blinks and looks at the contract he had prepared. "Yes, well. It appears that you are a man of preparation and forethought. Very intriguing. I shall of course peruse your contracts, but shall we reserve our meetings between ourselves and not,” Addreon looks at Miyae. “middle-people?

“As someone who is accustomed to running large businesses Mr. Dauntinghorn, you will of course understand that in any successful business, a good manager delegates. I have an entire province to operate, which is exactly why I hired competent people such as Lady Miyae to oversee areas that I cannot commit undue attention too. She is not the middleman, She RUNS the Merchant's guild. I am but a simple Wizard Mr. Dauntinghorn, and not nearly as competent to oversee something as complex as a merchant's guild in addition to my other duties.” Daekyn stands. Atlantean, Aeryn and Curren follow suit. “However, I have enjoyed our meeting today, and have found it very, informative. Please do let me know if there is anything else I can do for you. Otherwise, I shall expect to be seeing a lot of your products in are small community here.”

Addreon struggles to compose a smile as he also stands. Addreon appears to be losing the battle until the small greasy man coughs and leans forward to whisper something in his ear. Addreon nods then flashes a toothy smile. “Yes of course, my baron. I shall look forward to my many meetings with the lovely Miyae. This meeting has been very...informative. I appreciate your time. I shall of course leave you now.” Addreon raises a finger. “Only one thing remains my baron. My bribe.” Addreon smiles. “I am an unlucky man who wishes to repair a great rift in his personal life. I was hoping to bribe you with this cask of berry wine, to suspend Captain Aeryn's duties, if it is his wish as well, to spend an afternoon with a lonely brother.”

“Actually Mr. Dauntinghorn, I was going to suggest that if Aeryn would be interested in giving you a tour of the grounds, and perhaps taking the evening off from his duties, that he would be welcome to do so. I know it has been sometime since he has had an opportunity for leisure.” Daekyn nods. “Besides, perhaps if you spend some time with him, perhaps he will give you a few pointers on how to be successful here in Firehaven.” Addreon smiles widely and winks at his brother again.

"Thank you my baron. I shall enjoy a tour tremendously. I shall await you outside Aeryn? Come" He says to his advisors. Addreon bows again and leaves. Aeryn watches him go, a slight smile on his face. After they leave the room, Daekyn turns to Aeryn.

“Aeryn, I realize that you detest your brother far greater than I have come to, however, I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to spend some time with him. Do you think he was satisfied with our little encounter?”

“My baron. I have never seen nor heard of any other man who has outthought or out played my brother. How did you know he detests working with commoners or women for that matter, no insult from me intended my lady Kaede.” Aeryn laughs.

Miyae bows her head. “None taken Aeryn.”

Daekyn laughs. “Come, come Aeryn. That's what wizards do.”

Aeryn smiles. “Allow me to be flippant then my baron. Sign me up for ink stained fingertips and book decor! I am interested in becoming one right now.” Aeryn drops his smile. “As far as Addreon I shall of course spend time with him. That way I can control him before anything can happen. So I won't have to arrest him like last time.”

Daekyn raises an eyebrow and makes a mental note. “It's really not all that mystical Aeryn, it took me but a moment to realize that you and he were polar opposites. So I simply did everything that knew would please you, knowing that he would detest it. Run along now, You will want to meet up with him while he is still fuming.”

Aeryn smiles and leaves.

Curren sits forward. "If I may?" Daekyn nods at Curren. “Daekyn, I wasn't able to read anything at all.” Curren nods his head at Sgt. Stoan. “However Stoan recognized the greasy man, de'Varon, and the man's memory in Stoan’s head matches a psychic signature similar to the one in the civilians head. Somehow I think that man was the one who impersonated me.” Curren spreads his hands. “Couldn't prove it of course, but hey...”

Daekyn smiles and stares at the doors. “I have already figured that out Curren. Already figured it out.” Daekyn looks around at everyone. “Thank you everyone. Atlantean, Curren, please report to my inner chambers in a quarter of an hour, we have planning to do.”

Daekyn Firehand strolled leisurely through the halls of Firehaven's inner keep. His meeting with Addreon Dauntinghorn has been an amusing diversion for the afternoon. But more importantly, it was the first break that he had gotten in weeks concerning the mysterious forces at work against him, at least possibly. Daekyn came to a large set of double doors and opened them. Inside was his 'official' office for conducting public affairs and private meetings. It was one of the few rooms in the keep to be finished as far as furnishings were concerned. There was a large desk made of Cherry wood and three comfortable chairs, one behind the desk and two in front. Warm tapestries hung on the wall and a tray of snacks and coffee waited patiently on a small-wheeled table. The desk was immaculately clean with just some simple blank papers and quills on top. Daekyn sat in the comfortable chair behind the desk and leaned back grinning. A few moments later, Curren Kel-Righ and Atlantean walked into the office. Atlantean closed and locked the door behind them.

"You wanted us Baron?" Curren said taking a seat in front of the desk.

"Yes. As Atlantean has no doubt told you, I just had a meeting with Aeryn's brother, Addreon Dauntinghorn. Among other things I gleaned from that meeting, was Sgt Stoan's information that one of Addreon's advisors was the same man that was asking a great number of questions about me after my arrival here in the Stonelands." Daekyn pulled his clay pipe out of a pocket and began stuffing it with tobacco.

"Well, that seems normal I suppose, for someone wanting to find out about potential areas to expand their network." Curren said.

"Not this time Curren. I don't think so. Atlantean, I want you to arrange for this fellow to 'disappear' for a time. Should take no longer then a few hours. Strip him of everything he is wearing before Curren interrogates him. Curren, you are to go as deep as you see fit to make sure that you get any possible information on this man, and then make sure he remembers nothing of it." Daekyn looked sternly at both of them. "This is a very delicate situation gentlemen, and we can afford no mishaps with this."

"Sir, based on the scans I have already done of other people who have had, or rather could have had, contact with this person, I may require to go very, very deep into his psyche in order to gain the information you are asking for." Curren said.

"Whatever it takes Curren, whatever it takes." Daekyn turned to Atlantean, "And Atlantean, no witnesses."

"I understand Daekyn. Everything shall be attended to." Atlantean said with a grin.

8th of Uktar, 1372

Atlantean and Curren walked through the back corridors of the keep. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the empty halls. The shadows swallowed the meager light of the candles Atlantean carried.

Curren chuckled deeply. He knew it wasn’t funny, nor would Daekyn find it humorous at all, he just couldn’t help it. After the stressful last few months, this seemed hilarious, relieving in a way. Atlantean turned around suddenly, glaring at Curren. Curren almost ran into Atlantean, his foot treading on Atlantean’s steel shod boots.

“Curren quit.”

“Quit what, Master Sheriff.” Chuckled Curren.

“Laughing.”

“I’m not laughing, it must be the echoes.”

“No it’s not.”

Curren tried to stifle the chuckles behind his hand, but Atlantean’s stern look and raised eyebrow brought the chuckles bubbling upwards and spilling out in a gut wrenching guffaw. Curren squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked out of his eyes. His hands doubled up over his stomach trying to control his laughter. Atlantean watched impassively at Curren until a small smile cracked his stern demeanor, spurring Curren into more gales of laughter. Atlantean chortled a bit and then laid a hand on Curren’s shoulder, he knew the stress the young psionicist had been under these last few months.

“Compose yourself. A mentalist out of control of his own emotions. Great. What next?”

“No….no…..I’m in control….” Curren drew huge deep breaths. A lopsided smile glued to his face.

“We have to report to Daekyn. Can you in keep under control long enough to do so?”

“Yes.” Curren nodded. “I think.”

“I don’t see why you think this is so funny. I don’t”

“I don’t know why either. It just is.”

“Fine, let’s go.”

Curren managed to keep his composure until they reached the corridor leading to Daekyn’s chamber where a small snigger escaped his lips. Atlantean glanced at him sharply and Curren shook his head to clear the laugh. Atlantean paused momentarily and knocked softly at the door.

“Come in Atlantean, Curren.” Said Daekyn’s voice from the other side. Atlantean shook his head gently in awe and then opened the door. Daekyn stood by the window shutters wide open. The chilly night air gusted in but a large fire in the hearth combated the chill. It was eerily chilly and hot at the same time. Between the two of them only Atlantean knew it represented Daekyn’s emotions clearly as any drawn symbol. Daekyn stood with his back to the door, his hair buffeted by the wind. Atlantean tensed, feeling something very wrong, but not describable. Atlantean already knew that the three of them were alone, his own warrior senses assured that. Nonetheless Atlantean glances about the room anyway and allowed his hand to hover near his axe.

“No need for that Atlantean.” Daekyn said without turning around. A gust of wind carried the scent of moisture through the window. “I have been here for only a few months and the scent of rain smells foreign somehow, how quickly the body adjusts.” Daekyn spun around, his pipe firmly fixed in his mouth and sat down at the large desk. A war of paperwork raged across the top of the desk. Currently it seemed that a large bound book of yellowed vellum skirmished with a pile of small reports with four small mounds of wax, the remains of candles, which were the innocent victims of the paper war. Curren smiled again and Atlantean worried he would begin to laugh. Atlantean leaned forward and cut Curren off before he could say anything he would think was funny.

“We have our reports ready Daekyn. Plus good news, nobody missed the man.” Curren snorted but quieted immediately when Atlantean shot him a glare. “He will wake up with a bad headache and reeking of cheap whiskey.” Daekyn steepled his fingers against his chin.

“Continue.”

Atlantean took a breath. Curren grabbed a sheet of paper and a quill and began jotting something down.

“We waylaid Trent de’Varon in the alley behind the tavern, already drunk and brought him here for interrogation.”

“Yes?”

“And….we found no information out from the man.”

“What? Did you remove all the items he wore?”

“Yes, of course. “

Daekyn looked over at Curren with an eyebrow raised. “Then what Curren? What happened why couldn’t you read him?”

Curren looked up and smiled. “Because there was nothing to read.”

“Impossible. Every living mind has something….it isn’t undead is it?”

“Nope.”

“Then what?” Daekyn scowled at Curren. “Why are you looking so smug?” Curren looked over at Atlantean and tried to control a rogue smile. He folded the bottom third of the paper then handed it to Daekyn. On it was printed the man’s name:

TRENT DE’VARON

Daekyn rubbed his temple and looked at Curren.

“And? This means what? I already knew his name.”

“Yes, well when we interrogated him. We came upon several inconsistencies. Very subtle, something Atlantean may have never caught on to, however I did only because it was too perfect.”

“Curren I am losing patience. What was too perfect?”

“His personality. He has an Ego/ID matrix implanted on his brain, very subtle very powerful, not something I could ever hope to accomplish. It was amazing, except it was too amazing. Too pat. Logical loops and psych feedback in all the right places. It was an imbedded personality on the mind of someone, or something else.”

Daekyn sighed. “Who could do this?”

Curren lost his smile. “I am not sure. Some of these techniques are whispered about in my order, but I am note even sure the Elder’s could accomplish this. This is big….terrifyingly big.” Curren shuddered.

“Then why the smile? The chuckles?”

“Well on the way over here I figured out who he was before…what he is now. His name is an anagram. Look at the bottom of the paper.”

Daekyn unfolded the paper. On it were printed the words;

TAVERN RODENT

“That man is a tavern rat?”

“Yes, or was, and now able to project a psychic signature so similar to mine that I can’t even tell us apart. Makes a little more sense now about how he was able to be the one in all those taverns across Cormyr. I am afraid of how many ‘clones’ this one has.” Curren shook his head. “He has a vast memory structure rooted to his brain, that I presume it is a replica of a real person by the name of Trent de’Varon.”

“Dear Kossuth preserve us.” Daekyn whispered under his breath. “What person or being has this much psionic aptitude to do this?”

“I don’t know, Daekyn.” Curren shrugged. “If I didn’t just interrogate the….man with Atlantean, I wouldn’t believe it myself. This ability or capacity is so much more than my own talent that I cannot begin to comprehend it.”

Daekyn slumped back in his chair. He closed his eyes in concentration. The minutes passed by slowly. Soon Daekyn opened his eyes again.

“Fine. Unheard of feats and seemingly overwhelming power? Two can play that game. Curren I have a project for you, to work on in your free time with the Druid.” Daekyn’s eyes began to shine again. “Atlantean? What say you?”

“The same face and name will make it easier for me to find that many bad guys. I’m just worried about the one we can’t see.”

“Don’t worry about that Atlantean, I will take care of that, with Curren’s help of course.”

“Of course.”

17th of Uktar, 1372

Somewhere deep in the Stonelands amid the broken rocky and dusty landscape sat a lone goblin. His name was forgotten even to himself, his face battered beyond recognition. His body mostly broken, his left hand lay uselessly crushed and mangled next to him. His labored breathing sputtered wetly with blood. He sat amongst the gnarled roots of an ancient blackened tree, twisted and bent against the harsh sky of the Stonelands.

A vague memory flitted in the goblins eyes of the hope of victory and triumph over the releasing of the Gazneth years ago, but now only the broken desire marked the goblins face. The rubbery roots of the tree seemed to pulse and writhe as the goblins lifeblood seeped into the ground next to them. The goblin watched the sun creep to the edge of the horizon, knowing this would be his last sundown. This didn’t bother the goblin, who for once in his life seemed serene and peaceful.

A wet drop landed on the goblin’s cheek, who mistook it for his own escaping blood. The goblin casually wiped away the clear liquid and looked at his fingers in confusion, soon another drop struck the goblin, and then another. The goblin lifted his face in wonder as he watched the sky fill with ugly bruised clouds dropping water. The goblin muttered an exclamation and lay back and watched as the sky split itself open and a curtain of rain swept across the previously arid landscape.

Minutes or hours passed as the goblin lay in wonderment, growing ever weaker. The goblin felt the water coursing around him in growing streams of water. The world he knew changed forever. The goblin felt himself lifted and bourn away with the water slipping into darkness. In the water. In the dark.