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Authors: Marsheila Rockwell
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and patted the bed beside him. It was then that Sabira noticed there were no chairs in the room.
“Sit, Marshal. It’s rude to make an old halfling crane his neck looking up at you.”
Though Sabira didn’t relish being that close to either the halfling or his pipe, she once again complied. Breven had told her to humor the head of the Wayfinder Foundation, and though she wasn’t normally the humoring type, she had a feeling honey would work better with this particular fly than bile.
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to crush the maps and letters acting as a second blanket for ir’Dayne. She saw a map of the western half of the Menechtarun Desert, bounded on the north by the mountain chain known as the Skyraker Claws. A town was marked in red at the southern base of the mountains, the name “Trent’s Well” written beside it in small, precise letters. There were also manifests for an airship called the
Seeker
, a bill of goods from Riak’s, a Silver Flame prayer book and several old, yellowed parchments covered with strange writing that Sabira thought might be Draconic.
“Now, I’m sure Hendra told you I’ve been easily fatiguedof late—aptly named, that one—so I’m going to try to keep this as brief and to-the-point as possible.” Sabira bit her cheek at that; considering that two halflings could take an hour just to say, “Hello, hot enough for you?” on a warm spring day, succinctness wasn’t something she’d come to expect from the small but fierce race.
“I’m assuming Breven gave you the pertinent facts?”
Sabira nodded, listing off what the Baron had told her.
“Brannan ir’Kethras discovered the caverns of Tarath Marad near an abandoned settlement on the edge of the Menechtarun—Trent’s Well, I’m guessing?” she asked, gesturing to the map. At ir’Dayne’s nod, she continued. “He was led there by a bit of Prophecy he’d unearthed on an expedition to the ancient giantish city of Tharkgun Dhak. The same Prophecy that indicated that a Deneith woman was needed to unlock a powerful treasure … though what exactly that ‘treasure’ might be is still a little unclear to me.”
The halfling puffed on his pipe for a moment before answering, his eyes having taken on a far-away expression. Sabira wondered if he was thinking of his own ill-fated expedition in the jungles of Xen’drik—maybe in Tharkgun Dhak itself. Ir’Dayne shook himself, his thin, wispy hair floating about his head in response. Sabira noticed the halfling wore a stud in his right ear, a dark bluish black gem that could have been a sapphire, but was more likely a Khyber dragonshard. Her distaste for the Wayfinder grew. While she understood their value, after her experiences with the murdering Nightshard in the Mror Holds, she tended to distrust anyone who would actually choose to wear the dark stones on their person.
“Not just any Deneith woman, as I’m sure you know.But, yes, a great treasure, one that could change the balance of power both under the surface and above it.”
He rummaged around for a moment on the bed, then found a stone tablet with more strange writing on it.
“Soon after Brannan made contact with the Umbragen—drow who fled into the depths of Khyber to escape slavery, though we still know very little about them—he discovered more of the Prophecy, which he and I both believe is related to this same treasure.” The halfling’s voice had taken on a lecturing tone, and she and Greddark exchanged longsuffering looks.
“Bound by eight locks
Her Heart breaks free
And bathes both worlds
In tyranny
“ ‘Heart’ is often another word for treasure, and the likelihood of there being more than one treasure with eight locks is very slim, so I think you’ll agree that our conclusion is the correct one.” As the Wayfinder continued, his voice grew stronger and a bit of color returned to his cheeks. He really was in his element playing the role of professor of
“Sit, Marshal. It’s rude to make an old halfling crane his neck looking up at you.”
Though Sabira didn’t relish being that close to either the halfling or his pipe, she once again complied. Breven had told her to humor the head of the Wayfinder Foundation, and though she wasn’t normally the humoring type, she had a feeling honey would work better with this particular fly than bile.
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to crush the maps and letters acting as a second blanket for ir’Dayne. She saw a map of the western half of the Menechtarun Desert, bounded on the north by the mountain chain known as the Skyraker Claws. A town was marked in red at the southern base of the mountains, the name “Trent’s Well” written beside it in small, precise letters. There were also manifests for an airship called the
Seeker
, a bill of goods from Riak’s, a Silver Flame prayer book and several old, yellowed parchments covered with strange writing that Sabira thought might be Draconic.
“Now, I’m sure Hendra told you I’ve been easily fatiguedof late—aptly named, that one—so I’m going to try to keep this as brief and to-the-point as possible.” Sabira bit her cheek at that; considering that two halflings could take an hour just to say, “Hello, hot enough for you?” on a warm spring day, succinctness wasn’t something she’d come to expect from the small but fierce race.
“I’m assuming Breven gave you the pertinent facts?”
Sabira nodded, listing off what the Baron had told her.
“Brannan ir’Kethras discovered the caverns of Tarath Marad near an abandoned settlement on the edge of the Menechtarun—Trent’s Well, I’m guessing?” she asked, gesturing to the map. At ir’Dayne’s nod, she continued. “He was led there by a bit of Prophecy he’d unearthed on an expedition to the ancient giantish city of Tharkgun Dhak. The same Prophecy that indicated that a Deneith woman was needed to unlock a powerful treasure … though what exactly that ‘treasure’ might be is still a little unclear to me.”
The halfling puffed on his pipe for a moment before answering, his eyes having taken on a far-away expression. Sabira wondered if he was thinking of his own ill-fated expedition in the jungles of Xen’drik—maybe in Tharkgun Dhak itself. Ir’Dayne shook himself, his thin, wispy hair floating about his head in response. Sabira noticed the halfling wore a stud in his right ear, a dark bluish black gem that could have been a sapphire, but was more likely a Khyber dragonshard. Her distaste for the Wayfinder grew. While she understood their value, after her experiences with the murdering Nightshard in the Mror Holds, she tended to distrust anyone who would actually choose to wear the dark stones on their person.
“Not just any Deneith woman, as I’m sure you know.But, yes, a great treasure, one that could change the balance of power both under the surface and above it.”
He rummaged around for a moment on the bed, then found a stone tablet with more strange writing on it.
“Soon after Brannan made contact with the Umbragen—drow who fled into the depths of Khyber to escape slavery, though we still know very little about them—he discovered more of the Prophecy, which he and I both believe is related to this same treasure.” The halfling’s voice had taken on a lecturing tone, and she and Greddark exchanged longsuffering looks.
“Bound by eight locks
Her Heart breaks free
And bathes both worlds
In tyranny
“ ‘Heart’ is often another word for treasure, and the likelihood of there being more than one treasure with eight locks is very slim, so I think you’ll agree that our conclusion is the correct one.” As the Wayfinder continued, his voice grew stronger and a bit of color returned to his cheeks. He really was in his element playing the role of professor of
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