Aeroneth (NPC)

[kore]

Aeroneth seemed an atypical recruit for the vanguard known as the Spectre Blades. He lacked the usual physical prowess exhibited by its members. He suspected that his mentor at the arcane university's observatory, with whom he began studying the more unorthodox methods of accessing arcane power, had something to do with his placement in the elite front-line unit. This made little sense to him since his role as a covert agent of Shaelas Tirleth would be best served if he were to carry out his tasks autonomously.

However, these eladrin soldiers relied heavily on coordinated formations, specializing in shock tactics through teleportation maneuvers; Aeroneth was showing much promise in these techniques. Despite his reservations, his consolation was that the Spectre Blades had been charged as first responders for countering the activities of an entity of Khyber, known by few as Lolth; the nemesis of the Azure Star, Corellon. Knowing this intimate relationship, Aeroneth was eager to demonstrate his worth to his patron, for it was Corellon with whom he had made a pact, thus gaining access to the raw power that could be drawn from the Sea of Siberys. It wasn't long before he found himself with the opportunity to spill the blood of Corellon's enemies.

On the Day of Remembrance, as Aeroneth now calls it, he went to battle with his eladrin brethren against an onslaught of drow warriors loyal to Lolth. Eager to prove himself, he leapt into battle with zeal as they and their spider hordes attacked the feyspire of Shaelas Tiraleth. However, his recklessness had clouded his mind, and though he valiantly slew many in the name of Corellon he soon found himself separated from the formation and was eventually overcome, mortally wounded.

The killing blow sent Aeroneth reeling to the earth, violently whipping his head into the bloodsoaked mud. The pulse of pain was only momentary, but the disorienting sensation from being thrust to the ground was continuous as he perceived to fall out of Thelanis and into the vast Sea of Siberys. He hurtled passed moons and planets and through clouds of celestial dust toward a prominent star, the Azure Star, whose size increased at an accelerated rate. Aeroneth futily attempted to resist the force flinging him through space as it appeared as if the immense star would consume him. But then came a sudden stillness and eerie silence, the only sound being that of his racing heart and the blood being pumped through his veins.

Aeroneth stood, in the emptiness, two meters over a sphere one-hundred meters in diameter, that of the Azure Star, whose flares licked up and over him. Two meters above him now loomed a second sphere of lesser diameter, Eberron, whose moons steadily processed in their orbits. And sharing the space between the the two colossal orbs was a featureless humanoid, wreathed in shimmering platinum-silver light and the sound of its voice began to resonate from within Aeroneth, as if orginating from his bones and echoing through his veins:

"Aeroneth, you have fought the enemy of your patron with fervor and loyalty. But your lack of discipline has led you down a path of ruin. Consider yourself blessed that Corellon has seen fit to spare you from that destiny. It is within his power to give to you a new destiny. The being of which you were is no more and that which you are has been given a gift, the memory of the death of another. Remember it well."

"You have been entrusted with a great secret of which you have no knowledge now. Be patient, honor Corellon through discipline and it will be revealed to you in time. Know that isolation will lead you to desolation and thus it is through mortals that Corellon may provide revelation. Go now to the land of Khorvaire, where you are needed at the end. A messenger has infiltrated a nation called Cyre to bring you to the camp of their enemies in Breland. Bring forth your new destiny."

At that moment, Aeroneth was hurled up to the planet towards one of its continents before being swallowed by a flash of light. He emerged from his homespire in the nation of Cyre; a cloaked human approached him, the messenger of whom the herald spoke. To this end, Aeroneth had no memory of his life before the day of his death except for his passion for the place he called home. Little did he know that he would soon be cut off from all that he knew and become a vagabond, with only the promise of an unknown purpose and a drive to seek his destiny.

[kore]

Following the events of the Day of Mourning, trusting Corellon to reveal the secrets of his purpose in due time, Aeroneth had no immediate directive. His homespire was consumed by the mist that dominates the Mournland. Thus, he set out into the unknown with the bugbear, Brinjin, who fought at his side atop the hill overlooking the Mournland. As a mercenary, Aeroneth was sure he would not linger long in one place. However, where Brinjin sought wealth, Aeroneth sought information regarding the mysteries surrounding the feyspires in Eberron and the mist that swallowed his own.

Guided by the unseen influence of Corellon, Aeroneth traveled Khorvaire with his brash companion, whose recklessness outmatched Aeroneth and whose ventures were often more costly than profitable, treasuring what little details he could gather. Their travels eventually led them to Sharn, where a chance encounter with some familiar faces would thrust Aeroneth into the treacherous affairs of the natives of Khorvaire.

Aeroneth and his companions found themselves commissioned by Edwin d'Cannith and his investigator, Caldur d'Medani, to investigate a wayward merchant and to track down an elusive courier, leading them into the sewers and caves beneath Sharn. With the help of Valna ir'Tasrin, a messenger of Bren ir'Gadden, they discovered Ashurta's Tomb and recovered the enchanted blade of the legendary hobgoblin. Entrusted with the powerful artifact, Aeroneth pondered whether his possession of Ashurta's Blade served the purpose for which he was destined by Corellon. However, acquisition of the blade soon brought much attention to the fellowship and an uneasiness washed over Aeroneth, as if being watched from the shadows.

From Morgrave University came an invitation to meet with one of its professors, Gydd Nephret, who showed interest in the relic of the lost Dhakaani Empire...and in Aeroneth. A charming and intelligent half-elf, she affected Aeroneth and he oft found himself distracted with thoughts and concern for her. She eagerly shared information with the fellowship and Aeroneth found her to be the most interesting scholar he had encountered since being brought to Eberron.

The search for the courier, Kara d'Orien, lead to a House Ghallanda enclave where they were able to parley with the nervous messenger. Aeroneth convinced her that she should surrender her parcel to them after revealing that her patron, Holma, had been murdered and replaced by the doppleganger Mercus Rye, now captured. Not trusting any of the Houses or the King's Sword, they arranged a private rendezvous, away from prying eyes, for the exchange. As the fellowship approached the meeting location, Sir Ramus of the King's Sword made his ill intentions known while two House Denieth Blademarks proved more trustworthy. In the midst of the conflict, a squad of non-sentient warforged attacked all parties before the fellowship, Kara, and the Blademarks were able to retreat to the estate of Bren, where he had been hosting them since their arrivals in Sharn.

[kore]

After the rescue of Kara, Aeroneth retreated to his quarters at Bren's estate to meditate. His vision narrowed and the air around him seemed to freeze until there was nothing, a void. He then found himself in Thelanis, on the Day of Rememberance, though the details of the memory seemed peculiar.

His meditations often brought him back to that forsaken day and for years he used that memory as a lesson of the consequences of blind rage, impatience, foolishness, and recklessness. He learned to practice discipline, wisdom, patience, discernment, and determination. Perhaps it was easier in this plane, than in another, since Aeroneth had no encounters with any of the servants of Lolth in Eberron, but that didn't matter anymore; Aeroneth had learned that foolishness was a poison of the mind, clouding one's judgement and deadlier than a sword.

However, the vision seemed strange because his enemy was no longer the followers of Lolth. Instead, he and his allies fought formless clouds of mist with prismatic eyes. The sequence of events, however, remained unchanged and Aeroneth fell once more and was again jetisoned into space and into the presence of the herald, between the Azure Star and Eberron. He retold this new version of his vision and expressed curiousity regarding its alteration, how he now seems to battle a new enemy.

The herald knowingly elaborated, "You must understand, Aeroneth, that your enemy can be anyone. Regardless, you must not allow folly to influence your actions. The enemies of Corellon are many and Lolth and her children may be the greatest. Your devotion to Corellon made them easy lures with which to draw out your weakness and Corellon saw fit to use his greatest enemies to obscure the true foes, through your life now passed, to teach you."

"It should matter not who your enemy is as along as you honor Corellon in all that you do. You have learned not to allow your mind to be clouded by those that would kill you and destroy that which you love. Your death and the fall of your homespire have served a purpose in edifying you now. You have chosen to serve Corellon and he has rewarded you with life and wisdom."

"You have honored Corellon not only through your discipline but also your trust in your companions, having learned to rely on others so that they may rely on you. Continue to honor Corellon as the balance of civilation in Khorvaire is ever changing. But should this civilization disrupt the boundaries between planes, the consequences are untold. Understand that each decision you make may have far reaching effects and you are responsible for the outcome of each. You and your companions have the power to shape Khorvaire, beware not to affect this balance in a way that would bring corruption to the world of Eberron."

As the herald concluded its cryptic warning, Aeroneth's consciousness returned to his mortal body at Bren's estate, seemingly at the same moment he blacked out.

The following day, the fellowship soon found themselves with a new patron, Captain Kaleas of the King's Citadel. Their new commission was to meet with a Brelish spy, who infiltrated the Wordbearer goblins, and assist in retrieving the missing artifacts of the Ashen Crown, of which Ashurta's Blade is one. More honorable than their cousins, the Bladebearers, the Brelish crown hoped to assist the Wordbearers achieve power in Darguun in order to stabilize their border with these more reasonable goblins. They travelled by lightning rail to Wroat where an airship awaited to take them to the Kech Volaar; the journey provided much time to meditate.

[kore]

A knot begins to form in my gut as I and my companions prepare for this martial contest these Wordbearers have designed. The source of my anxiety, though, is not the duels before us but something distant, something elusive; the truth. Within this tapestry of political maneuverings, plays for power, and secret plots I find myself a subject in a veil of subterfuge. I wish to unravel it, my mind searching for any frayed thread with which to undo its deceit.

And in my possession, an artifact that could change the face of Khorvaire with factions untold vying to possess it for themselves. Already too many hands have embraced it and I have been derelict in my duty, careless with what Corellon has seen fit to put in my charge; that ends now. However, I have lead Ashurta's Blade into the wilderness and potentially into the hands of those who wish to disrupt the relative peace with which Khorvaire has been blessed. I fear I've been a willing participant a moment too many, but I will die before I hand it over to anyone who seeks its power for corrupt purposes.

My hope now is that my companions are similarly suspicious. Mummy-John is strong willed, bold, and seems confident in his world view. He may require some definite proof to be persuaded if my suspicions are correct. Does he feel any loyalty to House Cannith, bearing their Dragonmark? Lord-Marshal Bren seems an honorable man, but would he hesitate if he knew his actions could bring new glory to Breland, even if the cost is a new war in Khorvaire? Likewise, Watcher is a machine of war, made by House Cannith for Breland. He exhibits a remarkable individuality compared to other warforged, almost as if he had a soul. But could unknown powers strip him of his person and turn him against the only people he might consider friends? Such thoughts are troubling...and tragic.

Perhaps Brinjin has some insight to this mystery. The consequences for Darguun would seem dire regardless of who was to obtain the Ashen Crown, the Kech Volaar or the Kech Sharaat. If anyone were to share my suspicions surely the person I consider a brother and friend would. I wish I recognized the danger we're in when Kara expressed consternation over the contents of her parcel. She seems to respect the powers of this world without the need to exploit that which she has nor obtain greater power, a virtue I'm beginning to identify with more with each passing moment.

[kore]

Beyond each mystery lies a new challenge; for me it is both cosmic and personal. The one I consider a brother has found kinship with the Wordbearers and I selfishly cannot avoid a feeling of abandonment, but who am I to rob him of happiness. As long as I've known Brinjin his joy came only from the acquisition of gold, but now he seems to have found a new joy. With the loss of a friend we gain a new companion, a crystaline, byeshk being called Chessmaster. Its power over the Mournland mist is a good omen.

And lying before us, those still willing to recover the Ashen Crown, are the corrupt remains of Yeraa. I believe, now, that her intentions were noble, but she has been betrayed and at this critical moment we have been dealt a devastating blow. The artifacts of Murkoorak, Karruuk, and Lurtaan are now in the possession of some unknown force within the tunnels below us; Tikulti's absence is suspicious at the least. Zaarani's Solitaire and the Dragonmark map have been lost in our conflict with Dennae and the presence of the undead all around us reeks of the Emerald Claw. Yeraa's warning is still fresh on my ears, but I fear we must descend into the ground and chase down whoever, or whatever, defiled these noble Wordbearers.

All the while, we have had numerous encounters with mechanical agents that were, no doubt, constructs of House Cannith. This 'presence' seems to make Watcher uneasy, we may be able to use this to our advantage. Then there are the changlings, a race I lose trust in each passing moment: Lan, Mercus Rye, Tikulti, and now Dennae. What do they and the Emerald Claw of Karrnath have planned? Perhaps Gydd will have some insight, we should find her quickly, if we ever see the light of day again. It's as if an abyss has opened beneath me, but I do not fear or fight the descent. Instead, I race with hope, headlong into the darkness with Corellon as my light.

[kore]

We've emerged from beneath the market in Greywall empty-handed, but I do not feel defeated. Corellon has bestowed a curious gift on me, perhaps in concert with the powers of this world. However, I fear it may bring more attention to me than I would prefer. I have spoken with Kara and she has been very helpful, but her words do not ease the burden I bear.

The escape of Tikulti, the betrayer, with the artifacts Yeraa sought to retrieve furthers my suspicion of the one who sent us, Captain Kalaes. Is he a pawn or is he something more sinister? Perhaps he is truely noble and I have simply become cynical. Regardless, it is better that we avoid him for the moment until we can find Gydd. I have seen what the enemy does to the once living, to Yeraa most recently, and I pray to Corellon that we find fair Gydd unharmed.

[kore]

Our return to Sharn provided no reprieve from the urgency of our mission. Upon our arrival to Gydd's home it was obvious that the enemy had already struck as they laid in wait. Our foe defied us to return to Ashurta's Tomb to confront her and there was no doubt of the trap she intended to spring. She needed to acquire the final piece to the Ashen Crown, Ashurta's Blade, and notes found in Gydd's home confirmed that Ashurta's Tomb was the location to be used to perform the ritual to combine the artifacts.

Whilst in the tomb I lost Ashurta's Blade for just a moment and though the artifact is bonded to me and was quickly recovered, the shame is difficult to bear, the responsibility is mine. And if it were not for the valiant efforts of Watcher and Mummy-John, we may all be dead now. But there are more pressing matters before us.

The beautiful Gydd has been corrupted, like Yeraa and those other cursed dead. With an expression of love I slew her mercifully. It's somewhat curious that I loosed those words, 'my love', at such a hopeless moment for one I've known for only a short time. But I cannot deny that I spoke them, that some truth within me has made itself know. Hope is not lost completely, though. The corruption that has taken her could not stop her from revealing that which I believe we must do: bind the fragments of the Ashen Crown and resurrect her.

[kore]

With much debate we joined the fragments of the Ashen Crown and I used its power to resurrect Gydd before disembling it. We lingered no longer than it took to bring her back and retreated to the surface, to Sharn. But upon our return to Bren's estate it had been interdicted by all manner of agents. Thus we took refuge in the House Ghallanda enclave used by Kara.

Representatives from the King's Citadel and certain Houses stocked us at the gate. We eventually parleyed with Captain Kaleas and reported the outcome of our mission. Curiously, the captain was no longer concerned with the Ashen Crown as a politcal tool but was distracted with other matters directly related to Breland. It wasn't long before the captain revealed his new motive, to enlist us in a search and rescue mission involving a Brelish archeologist, Jelia.

We reached terms with Captain Kaleas, not the least of which was to resolve whatever grievances the offended Houses had with our fellowship. Free to roam Sharn without interference from the Houses, we rested and resupplied before leaving via a Lyrandar airship, we were headed east, to the edge of the Mournland.

[kore]

Our airship was attacked by dragon-like constructs and our best efforts to save the vessel became increasingly futile in the face of each wave of the onslaught. With the help of the surviving crew members, we were able to navigate the heavily damaged ship to a small clearing in the Faded Forest. Even as we made our escape through the cargo hold the contructs continued to rip the ship asunder. They sorted the enchanted portions of the ship, those that gave it flight, from the hull. Once dismantled, we observed as the collected remains were loaded into carts drawn by horse-like constructs and taken east.

We retreated to the nearby village of Mistmarch and then moved on to Sterngate, on the western side of the Seawall Mountains. We were able to rest and discovered, while speaking with the locals, that caravans of construct-drawn carts have been regularly coming and going through the nearby Marguul Pass. We reported the status of our mission to Captain Kaleas, back in Sharn, and were then issued a new directive: to determine where the caravans are going and for what purpose the salvage from the Lyrandar airships is being used. It seems to me that Captain Kalaes either knows what is transpiring or lacks focus and direction; perhaps he is receiving pressure from the Houses.

The prospect of returning to the Mournland, as dangerous as it might have been, seemed like a great opportunity for learning more of the mysteries of the mist that destroyed Shaelas Tiraleth. But I believe my fate is sealed and that, with Corellon's guidance, this new path will simply bring me closer to my destiny.

We have taken shelter within a cave in the Marguul Pass, fighting off all manner of foe, their bodies piled out of sight, while we wait for the next caravan. A chance encounter with a task force representing House Lyrandar's interests passed through but did not accept our offer of aid; the surviving crew must have reported back to their masters. Regardless, when our quarry arrives, it will surely lead us to our next destination. While we laid in wait, one of the members of the House Lyrandar task force named Gwen secretly returned to us. She explained her dissatisfaction with their decision to ignore or groups offer and her suspicion of their own quest.

[kore]

Though our original intent was to follow the caravan, we chose to ambush the single cart and its cadre hoping that the horse-like construct possessed only enough sentience to continue to its destination. The gamble succeeded and we soon found ourselves transported out of the pass, turning to the northeast along the mountains. Our journey led us through some caves in the mountains that terminated at a large cavern. The cavern was a bay from which dragon-shaped airships, laden with stolen Lyrandar airship parts, departed further to the east toward the Mournland; we had observed such craft coming and going as we traveled the foothills.

Our infiltration of this lair did not go unnoticed and we soon found ourselves under attack. After the chaotic melee that ensued, we quickly boarded the airship before its departure, intent on finding the cargo's final destination. While in flight we once again found ourselves assailed and before we could fend off our attackers the airship was damaged. Even as we approached the wall of mist and the Mournland's border, my only concern was to safely reach solid ground again.

We succeeded in landing the craft without injury to our party and as only fate would have, we now find ourselves at the Field of Ruins at the same razed tower where I first encountered Bren and Aric Blacktree. A survey of the interior has revealed that where the prophetic sigil once laid is now a hole in the stone and a ladder dropping into the darkness. Something draws Watcher and for his own reasons he wishes to descend. It is not coincidence that we are here and despite Josan's protests, we once again go into the darkness.

[kore]

Beneath the ruins we found a cave that led into a Cannith creation forge, but we were not the first to arrive; we were met by goblins of the Kech Sharaat. Within the forge was a lab of active, non-sentient warforged prototypes. Further in we encountered another construct lab, attended by a goblin artificer named Dakai, where metal and flesh were being combined to create new monstrosities. We then came to a large corridor that led deeper underground and walked into an array of traps. Though each turn revealed new mysteries, below we would soon find answers.

The end of the corridor gave way to a steel, mesh catwalk hanging over a pool of molten metal thirty feet below. There we were greeted by Haestus d'Cannith, an undead human turned forge wraith. He gushed arrogance and pride and took ownership of the forge and its creations, the variety of warforged we had previously encountered as well as the mysterious Calmachia. The undead artificer had languished in the forge since the Day of Mourning and we saw fit to put an end to him once and for all. We recovered his signet ring and I believe House Cannith would be interested to know the fate of one of their own, though they may not be as pleased when they learn of the destruction of their forge.

Beyond the catwalk was a workshop with labyrinthine conveyors, actively sorting the stolen airship parts to be stripped of their arcane essence. In an adjacent room we found a foreman's office that overlooked both the workshop and a separate room used for quality control. Within these two rooms we found two apparent prisoners: Marus, an assistant of Jelia, and Zero, an old war companion from Watcher's company.

Marus revealed that Jelia hired the Swordbearer goblins, believing they were merely mercenaries, as a protection detail in order to expedite exploration of the forge instead of waiting for orders from Breland. The mistake in doing so was self-evident: their leader, Valsath, recognized the power such a forge bestowed upon whomever controlled it and coerced Jelia into helping her operate it, at least as long as Jelia was still an asset.

The pacified warforged, Zero, revealed that Watcher's company had been used, by Calmachia, in unsuccessful experiments to create new sentient forged beings; Zero was relegated to perform quality control duties in the production facility. The remains of Watcher's Captain, One, was equipped with a final messenger which corroborated Zero's tale. Watcher seemed dismayed by the broken spirit of his otherwise outgoing companion and the destruction of the others.

Our objectives were clear: stop Valsath and Calmachia and rescue Jelia. After gathering our strength, we planned our assault and breached the workshop. We dispatched Valsath and her warriors and found Jelia in an adjacent room. She required some argument to accept our aid but we were able to convince her that we would do everything in our power to return her safely to Breland without revealing her blunder regarding the Swordbearers.

From Jelia we learned that Calmachia, a sentient forge drake, held true control over the forge and its operation. It was Jelia who activated the forge and Calmachia, unintentionally setting in motion its plans of conquest. Until we had arrived, she was the reluctant servant of the forge, trading her services for her life. She agreed to help us shut down the forge in order to weaken Calmachia, then fled with Zero and Marus; tampering with the forge quickly drew Calmachia's attention.

[kore]

The source of the 'presence' has been found...and undone. The forge drake, Calmachia, proved to be the true archon of the forge and the constructs it manufactured. The self-proclaimed queen claimed all she created as her children and planned to help the Bladebearers only so far as to rule over all goblin-kind as the supreme leader of a Dhakaani Empire; Haestus was no more in control than Valsath.

Upon vanquishing the draconic construct the unimaginable occurred. The foundation beneath Calmachia's lifeless body crumbled away to a lake of fire and her body became possessed by one claiming to be Khyber. He apologized for his 'daughter' and briefly lamented her schemes. He then spoke of the Draconic Prophesy and its members, to our bemusement, believing our fellowship to be subjects of its mysteries, save myself for whom he expressed discontentment. As the embodiment of Khyber, the Dragon Below displayed an uneasy confusion regarding the prophesy, of which he claims to be an author.

Khyber's final musings expressed more immediacy as he spoke of Xoriat and madness of which he claims to keep bound. The whole of the forge began to tremble as he charged us with the task of stopping a ritual that threatened to weaken the boundaries between Eberron and absolute madness. We hastened to an unexplored hall of the forge where we found Marus, performing the ritual that was tearing rifts in the fabric of reality and letting lose elemental, arcane power. At his feet was the still body of Gwen whom, before our battle with Calmachia, abandoned the group with only a half spoken exclamation; her motive was clear, albeit foolish.

Before we could dispatch Marus he vanished into a rift as they were sealing themselves, his ritual thwarted. Gwen was alive, but unresponsive, and in an adjacent room we found a battered Zero and the body of Jelia. We escaped to the surface before the forge caved in on itself. Josan preserved the body of Jelia in hopes that we might later revive her before our battle weary fellowship made for the nearest civilized settlement. I ponder the prophesy of which I've heard and read many versions now and it seems we have shared more than one scenario of which it might reference. Alas, with a prophesy that seems as changing as the wind I do not tire myself too much in such matters for they often play themselves out according to the will of those far greater than myself. I am contented with the recovery of the Dragonmark map and the large Siberys shard used as the forge's focusing core.

[kore]

The fellowship eventually happened upon a town, Mount Crow, and at the main path leading in was a young woman tending to her horse. We approached cautiously so as not to alarm her and she greeted us in kind, though a bit awkward. Her name was Elyza and it happened that her father, Thelonius Finch, was a leader in the town. With his wife and son, Lucretia and Julius, they ran an inn and it was there that we sought rest and remedy for our companions; we placed them in one of the upper rooms, the fallen Jelia on a table and unconscious Gwen on a couch.

The town itself seemed a bit unkempt and very under populated, a query we posed to our host over dinner. Proximity to the ominous mist wall of the Mournland saw to a dwindling population and an erosion of trade opportunities. We began to explain our needs to Thelonius and he seemed interested in finding us the help we needed. Elyza seemed a bit excitable and whispered to her father some notion of a "man from the garden", in reference to myself. Overhearing her curious statement, I inquired about this person of whom she spoke and the mood of the moment quickly changed. But by this time, the poison in our meals had already begun to act.

We thwarted the ambush, killing all the members of the Finch family save Elyza, with the help of a stranger named Elfstar (in the common tongue). A strange power seemed to possess them and upon each of their deaths threads of mist could be scene rising like the strings of a marionette from their arms and legs. We attempted to extract information from the resisting Elyza by holding her over a pit in the middle of the in floor. But insanity seemed to grip her and she only gave us the briefest of details about the garden before writhing lose from Watcher's grip, throwing herself into the pit.

The cowering barkeep explained the strange sway the family Finch had in Mount Crow and he directed us to a curiosity in the basement of the inn. Within were the heaving, purple tendrils of some aberrant entity to which, we learned, the Finch family fed wayward travelers; we set the inn ablaze and burned it to the ground on top the tendrils. We found a new place for our companions before proceeding to the garden with our new ally, an eladrin claiming Shaelas Tiraleth as his home, who had curiously left on an unexplained mission; I have no memory of this individual before today, though that is not out of the ordinary given my circumstances.

The garden was occupied by harpies and dryads, strangely, and had two peculiar features: a statue of a male eladrin and a portal formed from two bowed trees, curved and bound at their tops by purple tendrils similar to those in the inn. Before we would embark on this new curiosity we decided to rest thoroughly, the first we have had for some time.

[kore]

Upon entering the portal we found ourselves in Thelanis and hope washed over me, hope that I would find my home. To my dismay it was evident that Thelanis was not out of the reach of the Mournland mist. Some members of the fellowship wished to leave but I urged them to push forward, if for nothing else but my sake. We followed a path through the mist toward a cave on a knoll poking above the mist; the path was lined with cairns, like a garden of graves, and chiseled upon them were verses to an ominous poem. We soon found that the verses were clues and riddles to puzzles and traps devised to ensnare and kill the unwary.

As we pressed on through the lush gardens along a nearby cliff we came to a ledge overlooking a swampy plain blanketed in the mist. I was overwhelmed with joy as the majesty of Shaelas Tiraleth shown in the distance across the foreboding expanse; we sought the higher ground of the cliff to better determine our position. Upon reaching the top of the cliff our new companion remarked that nothing was as he left, which was merely weeks prior to his first encounter with our fellowship. Where there should have been an eladrin burial ground of cairn slabs was a strange complex built from the absent graves.

[kore]

A great, distressing mystery has beset me; an unusual portal has revealed a portion of that which was once me. However, two dramatizations of this past have presented themselves, both depicting my collaboration with disguised rakshasa. In one instance, I walk at the side of a drow, betraying the secrets of Shaelas Tiraleth's defenses. For reasons that actually seem less perplexing than this betrayal, Elfstar walked into the menacing portal and evaporated into mist. However, upon doing so, the second dramatization presented itself and in it I walk with a human, secretly securing the survival of Shaelas Tiraleth against the oncoming mist some time prior to the Day of Mourning.

Guilt and self-loathing wash over me as the first weighs on me like a moon upon my shoulders. My redemption comes, though, from the second, evidence of my initiative to save my beloved city at any cost. However, the dichotomy of these dramas bring about many questions: are both true? The time of day is different in each as is the form used by the rakshasa. If so, what end were the rakshasa trying to achieve? Were they working together or against each other? Was I aware of the true nature of these individuals, as I am now, with whom I was plotting?

Furthermore, the substance of these conversations both presented a curious notion: "time and prophesy are malleable in the mist". This might suggest that they are representations of events that are not simply seperated by time but have no relation to each other relative to their realities. Do they represent two seperate destinies? Did I choose exile to Eberron, and perhaps the loss of my memory, as some form of payment for securing the survival of Shaelas Tiraleth? Is my presence in Thelanis, now, a threat to that security? Nevertheless, I must be mindful because there is no indication who, beyond those in my company, may have seen this portal; my kin may view my actions as defiant at best and treasonous at worst.