In which we find the elf and the wizard discussing the Sibyris shard's fate.

The old elf leapt down from the rigging, moving to the centre of the boat, limiting the view of the crowd to him. Auron recognised the moment: Rute doting over Loram and the others revelling in victory - the elf was alone.

“We should speak. I must know of your plans should we retrieve the shard, and though I fear I already know the answer, I wish to hear it from you.”

The old elf turned to him, looking Auron up and down, “The common people would be killed in droves by a war over the shard, I will not allow that to happen.  It is unlikely we will find a place or person who can be trusted to keep the shard safe, and in that case I intend to destroy it”

With his suspicions confirmed the wizard stared, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “How can you destroy something of such power? Not only is it of such power and likely well protected, but how could you rid the world of something that could do such good? Not to mention what we could learn from it’s study.”

“Power corrupts, I have seen enough to know this, and my dream and Cordric’s research confirm just how dangerous the shard is. I have travelled the length and breadth of this land and have yet to find somewhere the shard can be safe and protected by someone who wouldn’t abuse it power.  I will destroy the crystal by my own craft,” said the elf, his hand playing along the handle of his blade “The risk of entrusting this to another is too great”

Auron looked on, disbelief playing the edges of his face. “You realise what the shard is? This is a shard of the Dragon Above, Siberys. What makes you think you can destroy it so easily?”

Cal’s face remained emotionless as if the information held no bearing on his decision “Faith. Dol Arrah provides. She will see me through this task as well, even if I have to carry it to the edge of the world and give my life’s dying spark I will destroy it before I see it fall into the wrong hands. One life for thousands is more than fair.”

“Imagine what could be achieved with it’s study: perfect weather as needed, the lands could be rejuvenated and we might finally see an end to the warring between the nations”

The elf’s attention returning to the man showed a sadness, as if this were a discussion he had engaged in before. "To study the shard and turn it to good is a noble end, but where would the shard be stored during its study? Sharn? Aerenal? Karnath? And will the other nations stand by while it happens? The shard is the spark that will drive the world to war once more and no-one can afford to risk their rival’s possessing it"

Auron seemed to pause for a moment, as if considering and weighing options, before suggesting, “Take it to the centre of Khorvaire, to the Mournland. The land is virtually impassible, it could be safe there”

“A powerful enough group could still pass into there and come back with the shard with enough will, assuming it didn’t fall into the hands of the Lord of Blades.  You would simply shift the focus of the war from open battle so small groups who could survive there long enough." 

The old Elf seeming intractable in his stance yet not judgemental, perhaps even saddened by his own answer. “In the case of the shard even the great houses are bit players.  This land would be torn asunder in a war the likes of which it has never seen.  The Last War will be nothing in comparison, almost any cost would be worth possessing the shard”

Anger flared in Auron. How could this elf be so blind? “The Houses? Bit players? You do not know your history nor your politics. The Twelve would sooner the nations burned than let their own fall. There may not be much love lost between them, but they are bound together by their marks, fools that they are.”

A flash of steel crossed Cal’s eyes. “The war for the shard will call down powers beyond the houses, this will be a world at war, to lose the shard to a rival will make nations burn,
“And do you think that the nations and Houses have an appetite for war so soon after the last? They know the price of such a thing themselves very well.”

“For this prize? In a heartbeat,” the elf exclaimed. “And with the Jade Dragon lands could easily be replenished, renewed as you suggest, almost any devastation could be undone, only this will not be for all, but for those who finally possess the shard” The steel was gone now, once again replaced with tiredness and resignation at perhaps even his own words.

It was no small wonder that the elf’s stubbornness had not already got him killed. “But who knows of the Shard? It seems a precious few at this time and they aren't going to make the competition harder. Your pessimism condemns the shard and the people Khorvaire, it doesn't save it.”

“This knowledge is more widely known than you think youngling. If word spreads the shard is claimed, this world will burn - torn apart in a pre-emptive strike to ensure it is not used”

Auron sighed. How could Cal be willing to risk so much for people he has so little faith in? “Again this pessimism. Then do not let it be known the shard is claimed. Or indeed, let it be known it has been destroyed.” Auron lowered his voice, “And do not call me youngling again elf.”

Again he spoke and again with that tone, like a lecturer repeating the same lessons he has taught before, bordering condescending even if that were not his intention. Cal retorted, “Your academic mind blinds you to the realities of the world. This shard when harnessed will be capable of shattering nations in a day, blasting civilisations from the face of the world leaving no trace they ever existed and you would trust this power to a single group? With this power even a good man with good intention could deliver this world a blow it would never recover from, imagine the devastation it would cause in the hands of someone with a true lust for power. Your misplaced faith would doom us all”

“Your elven insight fails you if you think I am a mere academic. I have seen and experienced more than you know.You can’t fix this world one small problem at a time. If you truly wanted to help people you wouldn't destroy the shard so casually. Anyway, when you finally pass from this world, who will take up your blade? The shard would help ensure that no-one need to.  You are blind to the possibilities because of your fear!”

Why couldn’t he even show some passion in this, simply stating his opinion as if facts he knew were true, as if he had simply accepted them and moved on. “In an ideal world perhaps, and maybe one day I will find one. The shard however, will cause nothing but war - Eberron’s people are not ready. There is too much strife, too much hatred, the shard will throw fuel into the firestorm and consume this world. It takes a watchful eternity to use the shard well, a spiteful moment to destroy everything. In all your high hopes I have yet to hear the name of anyone who could be trusted to use the shard for the good of all, and certainly no-one with the power to keep it from those who would not.” With that the elf sat, rigging supporting his weight. Seeing him like that finally showed just how many years he was carrying.

Auron, face turning impassive, said simply, “Who? You, perhaps. If only you were not so blind.” With that Auron turned away, a deep silence pressing upon his back as he walked up the deck and toward the cheering crowd.

The Blade Unbound

"Your making my friends uncomfortable, I don't like it when people make my friends uncomfortable..."

Drayth was still talking, the smell of him oppressive at this close range, steel and oil, he made sure he was ready for us, fear, he knows what we are capable of, Cal blinked and the scene changed...

****

The Warforged Murderer lay at their feet, he could feel the blade tight in his hands, the rage at this man subsiding as he bled out into the street. He had hunted innocent Warforged, slaughtered them and people concerned themselves with loss of property, as if them being made of steel and wood made them less real, less alive. This city was full of such darkness, such hatred, it was too much for one man, even in his prime with 'Lyssa's song in the air and blade by his side perhaps, now the task was far beyond him. So much suffering and he cannot stop it, the city needs more than I can be, it needs a Legend...

A spark of recognition, no-one could truely be enough to fight this battle alone, but the darkness works by making the people afraid, prisoners of their own fear, if they could find a simple flicker of hope. Perhaps there was a way, perhaps as Eruleon was right and words could best the sword, something to summon fear in the darkness. Not a foe they could buy off, poison or defeat, one that would haunt them in their safest places, a storybook hero...

The Lightning Pilot aided him in pinning the man to the wall and from his backpack Cal produced scroll and ink and began to write:

"The man who would murder Warforged has been brought to justice, those who would stand by and treat them like property have their champion no longer. Sharn has been ruled by darkness too long both in the shadow of the criminals who stand untouched and the indifference of those unwilling to make a stand for what is right.

Those who would harm the innocent will face judgement.

The Blade of Dawn"

The young man watched reading the script as it was written and as Cal signed touched his arm "and House Lyrandar"
Cal was puzzled "I'm sorry, I don't understand"
"House Lyrandar stands by your proclamation"

He added the houses seal after the signature and stood back, allowing Cal to pin the note on the dead man, clear for any walking by to see.

The old Elf smiled, sure for it not to be seen, perhaps after all these years he could still be surprised, these four could easily have been considered part of the problem in Sharn and he had doubted them but for this young man to want Lyrandar included here…

The Blade moniker was an old story, no link to him, over dramatic and exaggerated stories of a simple man, for the Pilot to place Lyrandar’s seal with it made them a target, made him a target, and yet there it was…

It was the perfect story, the seal grounded the myth in reality, An immortal Elf who walks the world righting wrongs is just a story, to have a noble house throw it’s name behind it however changed the story. Perhaps the Blade has come to Sharn and is being sheltered by Lyrandar!

****

Cal’s eyes opened again and once more his senses were filled with oil and steel the girl was being carried below decks by a hulking orc on the other ship, now he knew where she was. Drayth was still posturing, he clearly would rather we left without a fight, but clearly it did not occur to him that he had placed a serious player in the cancer eating at Sharn right in front of their blades and while the others may negotiate Cal had no intention of letting Drayth leave alive.

First things first however Lauram was still prisoner aboard the other ship, an innocent dragged into all this and as his fingers danced along the blade handle under his cloak:

“The Avenger is sworn to valour, his heart knows only virtue, his blade defends the helpless, his might upholds the weak, his word speaks only truth, his wrath undoes the wicked”

“5, kill them all!”

But the Elf was already in motion…

The Priest of Justice

Left cut, step, parry, sweep, spin…

Cal’edor stopped mid strike, was Eruleon giving another of his sermons? The old priest was way inside the temple but he must be talking to the woman who went in earlier. He sheathed his blade and tied up his long golden hair and quietly moved to the entrance to the shrine from his hidden practice area to better hear the priest speak. The temple was only small but beautifully ornate, the arches and detail all carved by Eruleon himself, the old man had poured so much of himself into the shrine and given most of his life tending to it and the needs of the town. Inside on one of the simple wooden pews Eruleon sat with the woman Cal had seen enter earlier, she was weeping and visibly shaken.

“Father, they have taken my daughter, as payment for failure to pay so called protection taxes, these brigands and murderers have taken my daughter. What can we do against trained and armed men? Have we done something to anger the gods?

When Eruleon spoke it was always with a measured calm, comforting and strong, he had seen people through the darkest of their lives times and been an unshakable font of strength to them in those times.

“My child, there is nothing that you can do, chasing these men would simply lead to pain and suffering for you and your husband. Return to your home, stay safe pray to the Goddess Dol Arrah”

The priest spared a look, catching sight of Cal peeking around the frame of the door, how did he always know he was there? And he smiled.

“I have a feeling her agents are already moving regarding the matter”

“But Father Eruleon, surely the gods themselves do not interfere in the matters of simple folk, I had hoped… hoped you might be able to gather the villagers, perhaps we could muster enough of us to drive them off?”

Eruleon gripped the hands of the woman tightly and looked into her eyes.

“Normally I would agree child, the gods must work on a grander stage but in this particular case I feel a greater power at work much closer to our hearts”

The priest and woman exchanged a few more hushed words before he took her leave and Cal made sure to allow her to be clear away before he slipped into the temple where he found the old priest waiting.

“You were listening I take it?”

“Perhaps I can do something to help her, the town has no real guards to speak of, no-one who could stand up to these men but she is in desperate need and you always say it is the responsibility to those with power to defend those without and I have trained myself in the art of the blade longer than most in town have been alive, I can at least try”

The old man smiled “It pleases me to know it was not just this morning you were listening, the Goddess truly blessed this town the day you strolled into it. I was worried the day you arrived and cut down those troublemakers that you would be just another sellsword, a man who would kill whomever for the right price, but you keep surprising me boy. What I said about the gods was true, Dol Arrah herself can’t swoop down on every crook and brigand and cut them down like Arawai can’t bless every child, so they each have their priests, those of us who give our lives to the cause.”

“Now a wise man knows that not every problem can be resolved with talking and the gods know this too. Look at me, people like having a kindly old man giving their services, blessing their children, they see age as a source of wisdom, but whats gonna happen you think if I go out and find these bandits and try to given them a lecture in sacrifice and justice?”

The old priest ran his thumb across his neck making a cutting noise.

“Schuckt, that’s right, so sometimes the gods look to warriors, now it’s rarer to find because those that wield the blade often see might is right and they have the might, but now and again someone comes along who truly believes in the principles of the gods and who has the will and the skill to fight for em, and that’s where you come in lad. You need to watch yourself out there the gods don’t have time to reach down and pluck away every little arrow some idiot aims at you, but your faith is your shield, if you do right by the Gods they they’ll do right by you where they can”

“I won’t fail you Father, I will bring the girl home” And he ran toward the door drawing his cloak about his body as he ran.

“It’s just Eruleon lad, your one of us now…”

*****

It had taken over 2 hours to track them, he only hoped that had not been too long, he’d seen another man hunting the woods following the tracks with much less success, the woman’s husband perhaps? Had he chosen to come looking even knowing he had no chance? Cal knew he couldn’t afford to let the man find these brigands first, they’d slaughter him and that little club of his.

These men in the clearing were far more than even Cal had expected, 10 possibly 11, night had fallen and lit only by the fire it was impossible to be sure. The group were all human and half elves, men and women, they drank and rolled around with each other in plain sight of they comrades, even cheered on by them, Cal had stalked the bushes trying to evaluate the situation makes sure he knew where the girl was before he struck, they were being so loud though if the husband was still looking he would surely find them and that couldn’t be allowed to happen.

Then he saw her, bound and gagged at the base of a tree, she seemed otherwise unhurt. She was in her early teens perhaps and so had escaped the groups predations so far but he could tell a few of the group eyed her hungrily, time was of the essence, he had to act now.

Cal burst from the bush drawing his blade “Relinquish your weapons, release the girl and submit to the authorities now and you have my word you will live”

The bandits looked alarmed at first stopping whatever they were doing then they caught a glimpse of him, at 46 he must look like a mere slip of a man to them and they laughed, several getting to their feet collecting weapons

“What are you, her brother? Think you’re a bit handy with a blade? Let’s kill this dumb little kid and then get acquainted with his sister!” He grinned at Cal.

Your first then he thought, and in the blink of an eye Cal was amongst them.

Left cut, step, parry, sweep, spin…

*****

The man broke into the clearing, drawn by the earlier sounds of violence and nearly dropped his club. Men and women were strewn around the clearing, each slain by a single slash or swipe then he nearly lost his balance as something slammed into his side and arms latched around him.

“Father!”

Cal watched from the treeline, the bloody wounds in his shoulder and thigh burned fiercely but he watched the father and daughter hurry away in one another’s arms from the site of his carnage and he smiled…