Chapter Seven

"Tea Pot Breaks on the Glass"

6th of Marpenol, 1372

      Captain Aeryn sat at the desk he shared with the two platoon lieutenants. The yurt was a large four-partitioned pergola; three small bedrooms branched off of the main space. A large oak table dominated the center of the space. Papers stood in defiance of the errant gusts of hot wind that blew through the entrance during the day. Aeryn Dauntinghorn sat in a high backed oak chair with a writing quill in his hand while the other hand supported his head. Aeryn had his eyes closed.

      The quill rested on a report about the Wizard Adzerak, who was a wizard who lived circa DR 1090, nearly three hundred years ago. Rumored to be a worshiper of Deneir, he obsessed about books and had a remarkable collection of them, believed to be very impressive for a wizard of his caliber. He had managed to amass a fortune. Numerous reports also indicated he spent much time looking for a way to extend his life, so he could keep collecting his books. Whole fortunes were squandered on the subject of Lichdom. The report placed his last known residence as ‘A high towere, spent in shadow of the Storm Hornes and the lands of Stone.’

      Aeryn had reported his findings to his new Baron upon his arrival to the Stonelands. The Baron had dismissed his urgency about his findings. A new report has just come in this morning. It reads;

Eastern Garrison
4th of Marpenol
Presiding Sergeant
Wayne Herringtyn

      Captain Aeryn Dauntinghorn Oversword of the Stonelands, I send news of a cheerless nature. The Eastern Garrison on the edge of the Stonelands is deserted. None of the soldiers garrisoned here still reside here. Although it appears as if all their equipment and supplies are untouched and remain in place.I would consider foul play, but no signs attest to violence. The barracks and tower are locked and secured. The War Wizard in attendance is also missing. His papers and books still shelved neatly in his quarters.I believe the men are AWOL. I have sent a missive to headquarters in Suzail and one to you. I am alone at the Eastern Garrison and await reinforcements.

Yours to command,
Sgt. Herringtyn

      Captain Aeryn kept his eyes shut. The pounding in his head threatened to turn his day into a waking nightmare. Aeryn had been getting more and more headaches lately. His hands visibly shook. His eyes squeezed shut. A painful wave passed over him. Soon it passed and Aeryn felt better. He felt some relief and knew what he needed to do. A few minutes later Aeryn drew the drying sand over his newly inked orders. Aeryn smiled and stamped sealing wax across the fold. Aeryn hoped Sgt. Herringtyn could handle the task.

Aeryn stepped into the bright sun and handed the missive to a soldier. "Collect a patrol and ride to the Eastern Garrison. You will assist the Sergeant in his duties." Aeryn saluted back as the soldier snapped a proper salute and turned on his heel and walked away. Aeryn felt better about the situation.

6th of Marpenol, 1372

A few miles north of Suzail is a small tavern on the edge of four large co-op farms. At the hub of a crossroads the large Inn sits. A small sign carefully carved with the words ‘Addled Furrier’ hangs above the wide porch out front.

Addreon Dauntinghorn rode up on his chocolate stallion ‘Winddancer’ and dismounted. He was hooded with a heavy cloak despite the warm weather and clear skies. His black leather gloves were slick with the horse’s sweat and the impressive stallions lungs were heaving. Addreon threw the reins around the hitching post and stalked inside. The interior of the Addled Furrier was roomy and well lit. Several patrons sat at tables arranged to maximize the space in front of the large hearth. A man carving wooden figurines from old bung holes looked up at Addreon’s entrance. His eyes widened and a broad smile crept across his face.

“Greetings Master Dauntinghorn! My house is blessed again with your patronage. I even have your room available, will you being staying tonight?” The man stepped out from behind the counter, quickly wiping his hands on a white apron.

Addreon flipped his hood back and arranged a smile on his face. “Of course Goodman Harris. What is the entertainment this evening?” Addreon drew his cloak off and threw it across a table near the stairs.

Harris winked and held up a carving knife. “You have excellent timing again my lord. Tonight we have the pleasure of hosting the antics of a first-rate juggler and his exotic assistant Jade. Plus melodies from Erin of Scardale and the flash and smoke routine of Yarrow the Shrewd. Quite an evening and all without planning. Providence no?”

Addreon allowed his smile to warm slightly. “You are correct. Is your boy Fenwick still about?” Addreon added his slick gloves to the table by the stairs.

“Yes your lordship. Does your horse still enjoy his oats cracked?” The man walked to the door and whistled sharply. A young man of about fifteen years of age came running to the door. “Master Dauntinghorn’s horse needs respite. See to it that the oats get cracked before serving them.” The man turned back to the room just as Addreon sat down. His hands were straightening his white apron. “And your respite my lord? Shall I crack a new keg of ale or pour an elven wine? The brother’s Silverleaf brought a new shipment to us, my lord.”

Addreon sighed and stretched his travel worn legs. “Actually the ale sounds wonderful after the ride I have had. Would you ask Mistress Harris to favor me with some of her dark rye and fresh churned butter?” He had several hours of this charade before he could retire to his room to ready for his meeting. He enjoyed the food and drink however and never skimped on his tips to the Goodman and his wife. If his lineage and station didn’t demand his time as much, Addreon would visit more often. This visit was business and Addreon felt anxious about it being held here. He would find it insufferable if his business interfered with his enjoyment of the establishment. As the oldest son of a high ranking noble family in the kingdom of Cormyr he found little time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. In fact lately he has been riding across the kingdom in an effort to maintain his and his families interests in all matters. Tonight was no exception.

Hours later and in a room at the farthest end of the upstairs hall half a dozen people sat in the small room. One woman was busy marking the floor, walls and ceiling with strange inscriptions. Once done the woman sat down, finishing the half whispered mutterings. As soon as she finished the runes flared with a bright blue luminance and died down, leaving a small candelabra the only source of light in the small room.

“You have forsaken us Dauntinghorn. You stray from our objective. You assume too much for yourself.” The dark looks of the woman were stunning and her flashing dark eyes observed Addreon closely.

Addreon sat back and folded his hands in front of him. Allowing himself the moment to gain some measure from her intense stare. “I have only forsaken your secretive habits and hidden meetings. I have not forsaken my goals, I have just added some to your old and dawdling purpose. I am resolved in my purpose. The failure of Firehand is a necessity.”

The woman sat forward. “Addreon you mustn’t weaken the groups purpose. Our objective is the downfall of the Obarskyr family. The eventual decline of their power is reaching its zenith, and very soon our hand must be shown. Your personal mission is hindering our movement towards our goal.” The woman leaned back and sighed. “The mage Firehand will actually serve our purpose splendidly. His undertaking undermines the kingdoms welfare. The same goes for the other on the Dragon Coast. That wretched Regent and her attendant mage will allow this kingdom to overextend itself, and the people will ally themselves with a new rule when their precious safety and health are impaired.”

Addreon smirked in annoyance. His right hand playing with a ring on his left hand. “I am not a lackey in your little organization. I am the son of my father and by that right I will preserve the interests of my family to the fullest. I will take any measure to do this. Your goals are meaningless unless they serve my purpose as well. Do not presume I am interested in your little ploy for revenge.”

A man to Addreon’s left sat forward placating. “Allow me to interrupt lord Dauntinghorn. The families appreciate your support and benefit from your convictions. I am sure Mistress Delahna meant nothing harmful in her remarks. We are moving much quicker to our goals now, and maintaining our customs is more important now then ever.” The man drew open a bone tubular case. He pulled out several rolled sheets of paper and pressed them flat on the table. “We have managed to intercept some missives sent by the Baron to the Regent and copied them. We have brought them for you to show our good faith in our mutual venture.” The man grimaced and continued. “We have yet to receive reports from our contacts in the Knives about Jander from the Dragon Coast. They are long overdue.”

Addreon grabbed the papers and glanced at them. “Very good. My father has fulfilled his end of the bargain. Our caravans have reached every corner of the kingdom and we have spent the gold from the plunders of the goblin war and supplemented much of the funds from spoils we have seized from the pirates on Dragonmere. Your aims are well along their way.” Addreon toyed with his ring again. “The eradication of Daekyn Firehand and Jander of the Dragon Coast and ALL of their minions and friends is the most important thing in my mind at this moment. These commoners will not last long in their false station. The Stonelands were my father’s right to claim after the Goblin Wars, and the Dragon Coast is ours to ply with trade. We will not tolerate upstarts who have circumnavigated the proper avenues. This is why you will help me. Our goals are evenly matched. Their fall and the failure of the Obarskyr family will be complete. You will rule and my family will expand our interests both to the north and on the Dragon Coast. With the power of the Royal Navy and the Dragons we will become a nation that others will respect!”

A small greasy man at the of the table snorted and said. “AND fear yes?”

Addreon looked sharply at the man. The mans pencil thin mustache was slick with oil and his brown yellow hair was pulled back in a greasy pony tail. “I think you over estimate the power of fear Peitre de”Varon. It is a tool used only by brainless megalomaniacs who desire anarchy.”

The man sneered and produced a dagger from his belt. He began to clean his fingernails. “You’re a pretty boy from a rich family Addreon. Fear works much quicker with the masses than any other tool.”

"But lasts much shorter than any else.” Addreon responded with a cold glint in his eye.

6th of Marpenol, 1372

The pain, in spite of everything, hurts as much now as it did the first day. Hyrkul was reassured form the clerics that nothing could be done for the pain or scarring. The divine Spellfire burns permanently. Burnt by the power of Kossuth’s Spellfire, Kossuth will not heal it. So Hyrkul suffers the constant maddening pain. He has taken to wearing a mask of bandages to mop the seeping of his wounds.

Hyrkul stalks through the streets of Flamekiss long after the sun has set to avoid the heat. The heat enflames his burns. His left hand is shriveled into a horrific blackened claw and part of his leg pains him enough to induce a limp. The black shroud he wears floats across the packed sand behind him. His awkward gait makes his progress alien. He moves to a pen that holds hYungwaerth. He grabs a long saddle/harness and equips the nearest riding lizard. The low saddle packs he carried are next. They slosh heavily with water. The canvas is the same material of the shroud. Which blends quickly and eerily against the lizards skin. Hyrkul knows his own cloak will do the same. He has forgone the armor that was a gift from his father. Hyrkul snorts maliciously at the thought of his father.

‘The weak fool.’ Hyrkul thought. Sliding into its sheath is his distinctive great axe with its translucent double bladed head. The black shaft imbued with great magics shimmer from his touch as he rams it home in its sheath in front of the saddle/harness. His left eye hideously misshapen sits partially disgorged from its socket. The gel of the orb mostly shriveled into a blackened protuberance. The dilated pupil leaves the unseeing retina of his eye to reflect the red light of the spectrum.

Soon the hYungwaerth was saddled and equipped. Hyrkul painfully climbs into the saddle and straps himself into the harness. His destination was south, through the murderous dark of the caverns that spanned across the underbelly of the Stonelands. To a place found only recently by loyal scouts of his father. A ragged slit that tore an ugly scar across the land above and below. A place of death. Where an army of dead waited.

Hyrkul was departing his home on a voyage to find allies. Allies to crush the human he believed who had caused the division in his life and home. The man responsible for the transformation in his brother. The man who had lied to and manipulated his weak willed father.

Daekyn Firehand.

10th of Marpenol, 1372

The Triple-Breasted Mermaid was one the rowdiest tavern in Marsember. The small mustached man sat down on a three-legged stool that tilted dangerously. He glanced about at the smoky interior of the tavern. A small altercation between a whore and a toothless sailor was boiling in the far corner. A dwarf was on a table next to huge fireplace spitting in the mug of ale of a half-orc who was trying to ignore the diminutive pest. A dozen men watched an arm wrestling contest at a table fabricated with sharp razor blades on either side of the arms. A busty overweight serving wench seemed to be copulating with a unshaven giant of a man in the far corner. And another man carved lines on the face of a drunk who had passed out with a notched dagger. The small mustached man smiled viciously. He twirled the end of his greasy mustache and waited for the bartender to approach him. The tall bartender walked over and slapped a mug in front of the man, slopping the dirty brown ale over the rough-hewn bar. It made dark reflective pools in the cracks. The man took a breath and slapped a platinum piece on the counter. Receiving the reaction he had hoped for. The bartender reached out for it and turned it over curiously, while the men sitting at the bar began whispering in hushed tones.

“I don’t give change fool.” The bartender looked up. “You better hope that was your only one.”

The man turned and watched as the bar tough stop his arm wrestling match and walk over to the bar, followed by several other patrons. His hands clenched in a fist. The small man waited just long enough to make sure he had the attention of as many men as possible. When he became satisfied that enough people were paying attention the small man kicked the stool out from underneath him and leapt onto the bar to the surprise of everyone watching.

“I have an announcement you’ll want to hear! It means gold to every man in this room, if there are any men in this room.” The man said as he held his hands in front of him. The bar tough stopped a perplexed look on his face. Someone in the back yelled out a slurred curse. The small man spoke up again as the talking subsided. “I work for the Baron Firehand in the Stonelands. And he is hiring the toughest men in the kingdom for enforcement of the human law in the vermin infested Stonelands. He told me to give 2 gold crowns to every man who wants to go to the Stonelands and listen to his offer.”

The bar tough smirked and asked. “Why shan’t we just takes what yous got now and split it without ever leaving the three tittied mermaid?”

“Because he promised a Platinum sovereign to every man who showed up just to listen!” The small man smiled as the bar fell into silence. Men were looking at each other. The giant of a man in the corner even stopped his frantic bucking with the fat serving wench. “Any person, man enough to go just needs to grab his money and his personal ‘invitation’ from the Baron and go.” The man flourished a sheaf of rolled papers from a pouch.

The bartender frowned as he watched every single man in the place line up and grab the money and papers and leave. Little did he know that this scene was being replayed in every seedy tavern across Cormyr.

14th of Marpenol, 1372

Daekyn walked out of the yurt and strode nobly through the camp. He stopped at each soldier’s tent and chatted for a few minutes, asking things such as how they were recovering from the battle, and how they were feeling about the mission in the Stonelands. He also asked if they had gotten a chance to visit the make shift tavern that had been set up. Many of the men were tired, worn out and perhaps even a little resentful. Many of them felt the same way about Daekyn as Stoan did. But even most of them had now seen Daekyn in battle, and even though they might have disliked him as a Wizard, they could not deny that he fought with as much, if not more, conviction and fury then any Cormyrean War Wizards they had ever seen.

Finally, Daekyn made his way to the very peak of Firehaven, where the construction of the Keep had come to a stop since the battle. Daekyn looked around at the progress made thus far.

“So much more to get done.” He said quietly to himself.

Three hundred feet below, Captain Dauntinghorn had assembled the Purple Knights in formation. Atlantean told Aeryn to put the men at ease.

“Sheriff Atlantean” Aeryn said, using Atlantean’s brand new title, “when will Baron Firehand be addressing the troops? As you see they are assembled and ready.”

“If I know the good Baron, it should be right about..” Atlantean was cut off by a tremendous clap of thunder. One the peak above rose a huge crimson cloud of fire. It seemed as if the peak had split the earth and released the fires of hell. Amongst the glowing red flames, an image of Daekyn Firehand appeared, tall enough to be seen by all the camp, in all directions. It seemed as if the earth itself stood still; no noise, no wind. Just silence as Daekyn looked across the Stonelands. Then, Baron Firehand spoke, and his voice resonated through out the camp.

“Brave Knights of Firehaven, We have had the first of many trials, and we have gloriously triumphed over that trial. Attacked by forces, superior in number, we have shown the goblin army that Cormyr’s finest have arrived in the Stonelands; and we are here to stay! Your hard work and dedication will not go unrecognized by myself, or the Crown of Cormyr. And it certainly will not go unnoticed by the residents of the Stonelands. Cormyr has had a long and glorious history of fair and just rule; But you are about to embark on a new chapter in the history of the Stonelands; its conquest. I have listened to you, I have heard you. What you tell me is that there is not enough here for you, that you are far away from your homes and family. You want to bring your home closer to you? Then I shall make that happen—We shall make that happen. The Flag of Cormyr flies proudly over Firehaven, and we shall make sure that it has reason to. We tried peace, They did not want peace. We tried cooperation, They did not want cooperation—They wanted War. Then by the Gods, they shall have it. They shall come to understand Why the Purple Knights are the most feared force in all the Realms. But this cannot be done without sacrifice. But not your sacrifice, mine. I, personally, will establish, very shortly, a new home police force, the Crimson Guard. They will take over the mundane and menial duties that you have been forced to undertake; duties that draw you away from your true calling. You should not have to constantly be on the defensive, but be those that sweep across the Stonelands and proudly further the cause of Cormyr! The Crown wanted the Stonelands tamed, and you shall tame it; without distraction. You shall have the finest home base that can be provided—weapons, healers, and recreation. You shall always go to battle fresh and with vigor. That is what will change this land—Men, Warriors, with the resources to sweep all that oppose you aside! Look around at your fellow Knights. Look at their faces and remember. Remember because this is the time to remember. This is what you will tell your children, and your children’s children. You will say ‘I was there, I was there when the Stonelands were wild and without order. I brought order there. I was the Sword of Justice, of the Crown!’

Atlantean looked around at the stunned faces of the soldiers around him. Atlantean felt,, despite knowing better, the admiration and loyalty swell in his heart. Atlantean watched as Aeryn lifted his sword above his head into a ray of sunlight which wasn’t there a moment before and shouted, “The glory of Cormyr!!” Many of the soldiers began a chant reciting “Cormyr! Cormyr!” Atlantean waited the appropriate amount of time and leapt onto the back of a wagon and held his own axe aloft. The ray of sun shifted and splintered into a hundred sparks of light as it played across the axe.

Atlantean suppressed a smile as Daekyn’s voice whispered into his ear. “Make it good.”

Atlantean began chanting “Firehaven! Firehaven!” A few men copied him, but soon petered out until Captain Aeryn also leapt onto the wagon and joined in the chant. The men turned and looked while the wagon shifted again and they Sgt. Stoan and the platoon lieutenants get on the wagon. The men joined unanimously as they chanted “Firehaven! Firehaven!”

Across the night sky and across the brown-yellow wastes of the Stonelands the voices of the united forces of Firehaven echoed.

16th of Marpenol, 1372

Daekyn sat at his solid oak desk, brought all the way from Waterdeep. The grooves and lines were worn deep with use. Reports and supply order forms were piled neatly in three stacks. Daekyn's quill twirled and danced in front of him while he sat back in the leather chair and drank coffee. The quill dipped in the inkwell again just as a knock came at the door. Daekyn leaned forward and grabbed the quill.

"Enter."

Captain Aeryn Dauntinghorn stepped in. He closed the wooden door behind him and approached the desk. Daekyn waved a hand at a plate of Vendarian sweet bread that Dulcia baked this evening. Aeryn shook his head.

“Baron Firehand I have strange news. A dozen men of repugnant nature have requested entrance at the gates. They are apparently drunk and banging on the gates with empty pewter mugs.”

Daekyn didn’t blink an eye. “Excellent. Send word to Dulcia to raise the prices by 30% and then give a 30% military discount on all drinks of course.” Daekyn chuckles in fond memory of running the tavern in Waterdeep. Daekyn looks back down at the papers in front of him.

Aeryn clears his throat. “Your pardon sir, but I don’t believe it will be that easy. One man, the evident leader of the rag-tag group, is demanding his money that you owe him and his men. It seems they have come from Cormyr for an expected bounty.”

Daekyn raises an eyebrow. “What is the name of this man?”

“Dadger Brent, sir.”

“Hmm. Doesn't ring any bells. And I don't remember sending for him.” Daekyn steeples his fingers in front of his face. “Hmm, strange indeed Captain. Has Master Kel-Righ returned yet from seeking the Druid Rhaebben?”

Aeryn blinks and smiles. “Of course sir, did no one come to tell you the news?” Daekyn shook his head. "Yes of course. He came in this afternoon. Went straight to his yurt. Seemed very tired. It’s not like him to not send word he's back is it?"

Daekyn shakes his head in consternation. “Have him report here immediately, then send this Dadger Brent to me ten minutes after Curren reports. Tell him I will speak with him concerning this payment. The rest of the people need to wait outside the main gates until I discuss this matter with him.” Aeryn snaps a smart salute and starts to exit the building. “Oh Captain?” Aeryn stops and turns to see Daekyn holding a report up. “I would like to know before you send men to man any posts beside those at Firehaven. I did not forget the matter at the Eastern Garrison, nor our discussion. In fact J’Zan was investigating the matter. Please do not assume the worst of me.”

Aeryn gulps and salutes. “Um, Yes sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Dismissed Captain.”

A moment later Atlantean steps in. “A little light on him weren’t you?” asks Atlantean as he lowers himself into a seat across from Daekyn.

“Perhaps, ‘Sheriff’ but I do not want to create an issue that would encourage resentment.”

Atlantean grimaces and nods. "You’ve seen the men outside our gates?" Daekyn stands up and walks over to a tray of coffee and meats. He pours himself a cup and hands a piece of meat to his hawk, Syd, who squawks happily. “I haven't seen them no, but that is what the young Captain was here to tell me about. I have sent for Curren to monitor our negotiations. Do you know anything about them?”

"Trouble. A bunch of roughnecks, and already piss drunk by the looks of them." Atlantean leans back in his chair tilting it on two legs and grabs a slice of meat off of the tray from behind him. "They are banging on the gates with empty tankards and demanding money."

“Wonderful. I need more workers for the keep. Post a notice that Firehaven is a dry post for all civilians except for between the hours of six bell and twelve bell.”

Atlantean smiles between bites and says. "Yes sir, but even so, I am not sure these are the types we want to let in our gates. They look to be drudged from the bottom of the most despicable places imaginable. Remember Davram “rat-face” Basheer in Waterdeep and his filthy brother Turk?" Daekyn nods. "These men look twice as bad."

“Hmm, in that case, I shall talk with this leader they seem to have. If they don't want to work, then they can tent up outside the main walls. A few Goblin attacks shall make things a little clearer to their position.” Daekyn looks up at a knock at the door. “I have a feeling that what is happening my dear friend, is that someone, someone who obviously doesn't want me to succeed here, is telling people that I will pay for people to come here, in hopes of depleting my funds. ENTER!”

Curren steps in. His eyes are sunken and blackened. He has a large red swollen welt across the right side of face. His clothes are tattered and dirty and he seems to limp. He coughs wetly and says. "Reporting as ordered, Baron."

“Good Gods man, What in the hells happened to you? and why didn't you report when you arrived?”

Curren cowers at the sound of Daekyn's voice. A shudder runs up his spine. "Sorry sir. Completely an oversight sir. I have no excuse to explain my disorderly conduct sir. My apologies." Curren coughs again. “But what HAPPENED Curren? You look like you have been drug around the camp by a duegar.”

Curren smiles weakly. "I might have preferred that sir. Instead I got involved in politics sir. Of the worst kind." Curren winces and lowers his eyes in shame. After a moment Curren looks up and continues. "Rhaebben was recently ousted of some inner druidic circle by another Druid known as Naebrylla Daey. Rhaebben said he would be unable to help you, despite the favor he owes you in his current state of affairs." Curren looks at one torn fingernail. A black scab covers most of the finger. "That was almost a month and a half ago. Already a tenday after you sent me to make contact. I spent some time, traveling by horse and portal to find this Naebrylla Daey person, I was forced to take part in some sort of druidic ritual." Curren shudders again. "It seems that a battle was in order. I was appointed as Rhaebben's personal champion and forced to fight then and there this Naebrylla Daey."

Atlantean chuckles as Daekyn gets up and goes over to a tall cupboard and opens it. Inside are a number of potion vials, jars, mortars and pestles and containers marked in various languages. He takes down a glass vial and closes the door.

“Here, drink this, it should help. So what was the result of this battle between a Druid and a Psion? Not exactly what I would call an equal combat.”

Curren smiles and takes the vial greedily. He drinks and the effect is noticed almost immediately. "Actually the fight went easily enough. I whipped through her EGO-ID like a hot knife to butter. I had her crying about her inferiority complex and a yearning to be accepted in a matter of seconds. After removing her from the circle I was declared the winner." Curren smiles faintly. "But on the ride home I made a fatal mistake. Two of the portals I had used were one way only. And so I tried cutting between the Snakewood and the Troll Mountains in Amn. And let me just say that those names are given for a reason." Curren stares off distantly. "One of those damned irritable snakes had bitten me, and poisoned me. This," Curren points to the fading welt. "was a rock across the head at the edge of the Stonelands by a giant. I let my horse wander as I clung to its saddle, dazed, and nearly delirious by the sun and poison."

Atlantean chuckles again. Daekyn sits down, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “I see. Well. Certainly sounds like things were interesting, to say the least. However, I am unclear as to how successful a trip this was. Can I presume that none of the Druids will be coming?”

Curren smiles and says. "Rhaebben will be here tomorrow. He says he has a 30 year analysis of the Stonelands eco-system or something like that that he wants to show you. Something he wants to implement right away since he is now the authoritative druid in this region again.”

Daekyn smiles and says. “Wonderful, that's the best news I have heard in days. I AM sorry you had to go through that though Curren. There is a commoner coming here in a few minutes to negotiate some business, do you think you will be able to monitor things? I have a suspicion that someone has told him that I would pay for people to come here. I was hoping that you would be able to get an image of this person, since I know he would not give this commoner his real name.”

Curren nods. “Of course. Let me find a comfortable spot to sit. I think Aeryn is approaching with him now."

“Wonderful, and Curren, you REALLY need to learn how to Teleport.” Curren chuckles and nods. "Yes I do. Maybe something I can learn soon." He looks to the door as a knock sounds. Daekyn looks about. “Alright, everyone take their positions. Enter!” Aeryn steps in the door with a strange look on his face. Behind him a giant of a man steps through the door. After entering the man straightens up. The giant of a man, in bad need of a shave looks at Daekyn. His scowl pronounces a scar that runs across his cheek. His arms are thick stalks that end in chubby fists. His broad chest is barely hidden by his dirty linen shirt and strange tattoos can be seen peeking out from underneath the shirt.

Daekyn nods. “Greetings, I presume you are Mr. Brent. I am Baron Firehand of the Stonelands. This is My Sheriff, Atlantean, and one of my advisors, Master Kel-Righ. Please be seated.” The man looks down at a seat and then looks back up at Daekyn.

"Im 'ere to cawllect my sovereign platinny." He drawls. "You can talk all ye want, but I aint for werkin' with faggotty wizards. Now the others can do what 'ey want, but no' me. Now give me and me mens the money yous promised." The man holds out a giant hand obviously expecting Daekyn to give him the coins now.

Curren scowls in concentration his brows knotting above his half closed eyes. “And what money was promised to you, and under what conditions Sir?” Daekyn asks. Atlantean watches the man closely, a hand hovering near his axe.

"A sovereign platinny for me and me men. jus' fer showin' up and lisseniin' to yous talk about hirin' us fer some law enforss....enfarss.....a break downing of humoon law here in the Stonelands."

“Ah, excellent. I am glad to see that you understand the conditions of the contract. As you stated, you will be paid for arriving here in the Stonelands, AND listening to the Law Enforcement Orientation that is to be given. Once that is accomplished, then you shall receive your due.”

"That mans there." Pointing at Atlantean. "and the weasely one there." Shoving another meaty digit at Curren. "Theys already given uses two crowns to buys supp's and drink. Now pays up befo' I bash yous. I even brought mys papers" the man starts patting his overcoat and pants before finding a greasy stained parchment.

“Excuse me, I am not quite clear on this, Are you saying that unless I pay you NOW, you are going to start bashing me?”

"Yes." The man glowers. "I gots me papers says yous owe me one soveriegn platinny."

Daekyn leans forward imperceptibly. “But unless I do not pay you now, you will bash me?”

"Um..." the man looks at his paper, obviously confused. Then points back at Curren. "he says shows up here and baron man will pays me a platinny. I not one fer lissenin' to no faggotty mage about nuthin'." He looks around for assistance, obviously used to being the bar tough and having a crowd of supporters, when he notices he is alone he begins to look a little nervous. Daekyn notices Curren frowning. “I see,” Daekyn leans back and grins ever so slightly, “then of course, let us go and see to your men, so that I may pay you exactly what was promised you.” Another knock sounds at the door. Daekyn looks up. “Enter!”

Enellar Wyvernspur, lieutenant of platoon Sincian steps in. She salutes Daekyn and the Captain Aeryn. She addresses Aeryn. "I have a report sir, although I think it should be addressed to the Baron." Aeryn looks over at Daekyn.

“Atlantean, Take our guest out, I shall be along in a moment to give them their payment. Do understand Mr. Brent, that I cannot allow a civilian to be present during official briefings. I will bring you and your men the money promised shortly. Now go with the Sheriff.” The man bristles up. “"Hey sees here I gots you deady to rights. Yous owe me." Atlantean steps towards the man, his axe already drawn. The man looks at his axe and then looks slowly around then stomps out the door, followed closely by Atlantean.

Under his breath Daekyn says. “Oh yes Mr. Brent, I shall make sure you get what is coming to you.” After the man leaves, Daekyn looks at Aeryn. “Captain, what is the punishment for threatening a noble with assault in Cormyr?

Aeryn quickly responds. "Stocks and then imprisonment for a month. If actual assault takes place then death."

“Excellent. That shall work perfectly. Now, Lt. What is your report?”

Enellar turns and addresses Daekyn. "My Baron, reports are filtering in from the patrols. It seems that more people are arriving, all set on getting this promised platinum from you."

“I see. This is exactly the tactic I should have expected. Curren, what did you get off Mr. Brent?”

Curren shakes his head. "I read the carps mind as easily as a child's. It seems sir that, despite my knowledge otherwise, I hired these men from a seedy tavern called the Triple-Breasted Mermaid in Marsember...the worst tavern in the town."

Daekyn steeples his fingers against his chin. “And I take it that, you did not hire them?”

“No sir...however I felt my own psi-fingerprint in his mind. Even stranger is the fact that I have no recollection of ever meeting this man...or being in that tavern in Marsember. The man also has a clear recollection of Atlantean and his axe as well. He is just the forefront of a larger group of people coming to Firehaven. He wanted to 'muscle' you out of the money first. He and his men rode 2 sets of horses to death to get here first.”

“I see.” Daekyn stands and walks around the room and ponders this dilemma. “Lieutenant how many people have been spotted approaching Firehaven?”

The lieutenant gulps and responds. “Over 300 men and women. Some have brought their entire families. Plus wagons and goods. Although motley it looks like an invasion,” Enellar pauses. “Or a colonization attempt.”

Daekyn stops pacing and looks up at Curren. “Excellent.” Daekyn smiles wolfishly. “Ever feel like being a banker Curren?”

Curren knits his brows in confusion. Daekyn laughs and clasps Curren on the shoulder. “Come, Curren. Tonight we introduce economy to the Stonelands.”

Daekyn sweeps out the door followed by Curren, Aeryn and Enellar. Syd squawks in the silence following their departure.

16th of Marpenol, 1372

Miyae Kaede sat on the rough hewn stone wall looking out into the barren land to the north and west of Firehaven. The night breeze ruffled her short black hair playfully. Her almond eyes watched the gibbous moon hang low across the mesas and ridges of the skyline. Shioun stood below the wall on the inside, guarding her.

Miyae sighed. She felt the movement of the world beneath her, but seemed disconnected somehow. Always looking for the next undertaking she searched for adventures to earn a reputation. A mark in the annals of Faerun, even a footnote in the history books would appease her desire. She snorted. She has dredged an ancient canals in the jungles of Chult searching for a long lost idol to a forgotten religion. She spent a year in Halruaa’s largest library reading about ancient peoples and artifacts. Battled white worms in Vaasa in a castle carved from a glacier probing for the runes of a dead language. Fought the Yellow cough in Turmish while researching the 2,000 pages of the ‘Chronicled History of the Republic’. Dove to the depths of the Sea of Fallen Stars to combat an extra dimensional invasion and most recently began mapping the ruined portals of the Realms. Four portals she has mapped. The Assam portal, the Longsaddle portal, the Isle of Prespur portal and lastly the Farsea Marshes. It was there that she was summoned by Waylon Eriss the merchant who hired her to come to Firehaven to build a portal unlike any other.

Miyae shook her head. The meeting had been strange, quick and quiet in a warehouse on the Docks in Westgate. Still confused by what actually happened she only remembered the Waylon had promised a compilation of the knowledge of the portals and their construction if she would come to the Stonelands and build a very special portal for Baron Firehand. A portal unlike any other in Faerun. A portable portal.

Miyae had been waiting for the promised materials for two weeks. Miyae had very little patience and tonight she sighed heavily at the moon in frustration.

“She sighs back at you.” A voice speaks softly from below Miyae. Miyae looks below to see a man wrapped in a deep cloak the color of deep gold. Although his face is hidden in shadows, Miyae feels his gaze upon her. The man’s head nods at the moon then faces it. “She is frustrated by our efforts as well. Ever watching our labors. While we watch her hanging above us.” Miyae opens her mouth to speak, but the man launches into a recitation. “I instantly see the turning of Fate's wheel/dangling above nature's receding floor/the fearless light where the angels fly/makes my forsaken heart race/then rolling clouds circle in a concluding dance/my love swirls around/around the pearlescent moon which hangs on a silver thread/in a dream that never was/the bleached skyfire from the night/sears my aching heart/alone on this moonlit shore/forever changed, I slowly awake/leaving the skyfire's dance.”

Miyae looks down at the man in amazement. The stranger had recited, correctly, the poem ‘Moonlit Dream’ by Mayunk an ancient cleric whose works were over 500 years old.

Miyae shook her head to clear the whirlwind of questions. “Who….who are you?” The man looked up at Miyae his face hidden in shadows.

“A reveler of literary fancies and a hidden poet, my lady.”

“Yes, but a name? What’s your name.”

“A rose by any other, my lady? There is nothing in my name. Yours is sweeter than the rain to the desert.” The man stands and begins walking to the north.

Miyae reaches out as if to catch him. “WAIT!!! I don’t know your name!” Miyae looks quickly around but decides to drop down the wall on the desert side and scurries to where she last saw the man. A loud crack and explosion of gravel showers Miyae as Shioun blows apart the wall. Shioun stomps over to Miyae who grimaces at the destruction. Seconds later Miyae and Shioun are surrounded by soldiers as they swarm the area of the disturbance.

Miyae mortified, raises a hand at the Patrol Sergeant, who glares back at her in annoyance. Miyae walks over to the break and the sergeant and begins explaining. Soon an irritated Vecktyr comes to the wall and repairs it.

Eyes from the desert look on while the moon shines down.