Thorn of Breland

14th Therendor, 999 YK

OPERATION FAR PASSAGE

Agents Deployed: Lharen, Mayne, Thorn

The operation was a success, but at heavy cost. Of those deployed to Passage, only Lantern Thorn has survived, though she remains in a coma for the moment.

Minister Adal was indeed building an eldritch machine in Passage, an arcane weapon of mass destruction. It's unclear what it was intended to be used for, or who it was intended to be used on, though Aundair has been trying to reclaim the Eldeen Reaches ever since their secession. Descriptions from Lantern Mayne before his death, corroborated by Lantern Thorn, indicate that the machine used a great deal of dragonshards.

The agents described an eldritch core surrounded by a cyclone of dragonshards of all three varieties, Eberron, Siberys, and Khyber. Agent Lharen destroyed the device, but it exploded violently and sent the dragonshards hurtling in all directions at great speed. Lantern Lharen was killed immediately, Lantern Thorn was gravely injured and lost consciousness. Lantern Mayne dragged them both out of the facility and to a nearby safe house, from which they were all extracted.

Lantern Mayne later died of his injuries, the shrapnel that had hit him had slowly traveled through his body and pierced his heart. Though his initial injuries were lesser and allowed him to drag the others to safety, this ultimately cost him his life. Lantern Thorn remains in a coma, and healers are doing their utmost to remove the shards from her body. At this time, there are two shards of concern that have fused with her spinal cord, and will not be able to be removed without killing her. It has been deemed that they will not inhibit her ability to perform her duties, and so they shall remain.

The cost of this mission was great, but the cost of failure would've been greater. Our Lanterns defended not only Breland, but the entirety of Khorvaire today. If she awakens, Thorn will need to undergo physiotherapy and is not to return to the field until passing a psychological assessment.

- Zane

Nobody noticed the woman in black as she made her way along the back wall of the Bloody Tooth, everybody's attention was on the fight that was underway between a black-furred minotaur and a tatoo'd ogre. The ogre had fallen against the wall, barring her tusks and clutching her gored shoulder. The minotaur began to close in to finish his opponent, when she surged forward and flicked her own blood into his eyes, and the crowd roared as the two giants clashed once more.

Thorn wasn't the only woman who seemed out of place in the tavern, there were a couple of dwarves betting on the fight, but Thorn had no friends in this place, not even the person she was here to meet. She slipped her dagger fee from its sheath, holding it so the blade was flat against the inside of her forearm. She had to be careful, holding a weapon in her hand, in this place, would undoubtedly be seen as a challenge and a fight was the last thing she needed.

"Who are you rooting for? The ogre or the minotaur?" she murmured quietly.

"You're looking for a goblin." came the voice in her head, as clear as if it was whispering in her ear, though she knew no one else would be able to hear it. "Searching for the amulet now."

"My money's on the ogre, you're just afraid to put your money where your mouth is." she replied.

"I have no money to wager, nor do I have a mouth," came the detached and apathetic reply. "I question your judgement, the ogre has already been injured twice and her opponent possesses superior natural weaponry, the contest will surely end soon."

"I expect it will. Look at the ogre, and her scars, she's seen worse than this. He hasn't, his fur is clean and unmarred."

Almost in response to the comment, the crowd roared as the minotaur charged the ogre. She caught his horns in her gigantic fists and skidded along the dirt floor as she arrested his charge, and turned his own momentum against him as she slammed his head into the ground. The minotaur spat blood as he struggled to free himself from the ogres vice-like grip.

"Where's our man?" Thorn asked.

"The aura is strong, but it's not in this room. There's a crevasse in the left corner, he's about seven feet down the passageway."

Thorn nodded, dodging around the rowdy tavern goers as she made her way to the crevasse that Steel has pointed out. She found it, and paused at the entrance, making sure nobody noted her passing. The tunnel was small, a goblin or kobold would have no trouble moving or fighting in there, but she'd be in trouble.

"Is he alone?" she asked.

"I can sense only magical emenations. There's another aura, some type of container I think, it's difficult. It's an excellent enchantment, some of the most complex artifice I've ever seen, it can't have been made by his own kind." came Steel's response.

"So you don't know?" Thorn asked

"No." Steel responded.

Thorn sighed as she slipped the dagger back into its sheathe and then stepped into the passageway. It was tight, and she had to crouch-walk to make her way down it. As she went, her vision adjusted to the lack of light from the tavern, and the abrupt ending of the passage. A goblin squatted at the far end, a rough burlap bag in his hand. He was dressed as one of the labourers from the Stone Pits, his face and skin covered in grime and dirt from the quarry. He looked up as Thorn made her way down the passage.

Thorn saw no sign of weapons on the goblin, and at this range she could strike before he could get a spell off, but she knew better than to underestimate anyone she met in Droaam. She held out her hands, palms up to show they were empty, and spoke the code. "Silence is sharp as a blade," she said.

"Yes, it is." came the gruff reply from the goblin, who's voice was deeper than Thorn expected. "Thorn of Breland, is it?"

Thorn nodded. "Kalakhesh of Darguun?"

"Yes" said Kalakhesh, speaking slowly and clearly. "Many tales have I heard of you, young one. Much for one so young, though perhaps it is the taarn blood in your veins that keeps your skin so smooth and free of the ravages of time. I felt sorrow when I learned of the death of Magister ir'Torath of Arcanix, all his research lost in that remarkable fire."

"It's always a tragedy when knowledge is lost to us" Thorn said, "I remember hearing about the fire back in Sharn, when I was serving with the King's Shields." Her face gave nothing away, but she was surprised nonetheless. Not even the Royal Eyes of Aundair knew she'd been behind that fire.

"Oh, you were not involved? My pardons, we know so little of your nations. The damage at Passage also, you were surely not a part of this. We know your Citadel was the one that played the cards, but it is said that none survived, and yet here you are."

Thorn stiffened, and immediately chastised herself for responding. She could still hear their screams, and she still carried the crystal shards of the explosion buried in the base of her neck. The shard in her neck pulsed, almost in response, sending a shock of pain through her whole body.

"We have business in the present, Kalakhesh, let us not dwell on events past" she said, gritting her teeth through the pain.

"Yes, we do have that." said the goblin, sliding a hand into the sack and pulling out a large book bound in leather and gilded with strips of gold. The cover showed the image of a gleaming silver sword, held aloft by a man straight out of a story book, familiar but unrecognisable to her.

"I'll need to verify it" she said, reaching out.

"Do as you must, but my hand does not leave the book until I am paid, and it would be unwise to try and remove it otherwise."

Thorn nodded, noting the tension in the goblin's body. He seemed small, but she had no doubt he could kill or seriously injure her if he detected any sign of violence or deceit. Thankfully, Thorn didn't intend on either of those things. She drew her dagger and passed it slowly over the heavy book.

"Tell him to open it" came the voice in her mind, and she did so. Kalakhesh opened the book to a random page, and light spilled from the vellum. The pages held images of a knight in shining armour facing a red-scaled dragon, flame dripping from its maw. The artistry was astonishing, so much so that Thorn expected the page itself to catch fire. The page was also covered in writing in gold ink, but she couldn't understand it. Nevertheless, she recognised the story being told, it was an account of the legendary knight Harryn Stormblade's encounter with Sarmondelaryx, the Bane of Thrane.

"Fascinating, I can't image how this was even made. This is what we're here for, pay him and return to safety." came Steel's voice.

Thorn reached into her gloves and produced the purse containing the goblin's payment.

"Twenty thousand galifars worth of rubies from the Mror Holds. Do you want to inspect them?" she asked.

The goblin shook his head. "Unlike you, I have trust in my allies. I doubt your citadel would risk the wrath of the Shaarat'khesh over such a small amount of money." He released the book as his fingers tightened around the pouch, and then he rose to his feet.

Thorn pressed her palm against the book and concentrated, shunting it into the extradimensional space in her glove. "How did you get it?"

"Luck, more than anything. It's not a risk I would take again, knowing what I would get out of it. I'd hoped to find a treasure belonging to my people, not a curiosity of yours that would drive me from this country. I am glad to be rid of it." Kalakhesh put the gems in his sack and turned to leave.

"Give me a few seconds before you follow."

Thorn nodded and moved out of the way. "Safe travels."

Kalakhesh slipped through and Thorn waited. She was going to give him the count to two hundred, to be sure they weren't seen together. She could still faintly hear the sounds of the fight between the minotaur and the ogre.

Five.

Ten.

Every nerve in Thorn's body suddenly lit up with pain, almost causing her to pass out. She had to steady herself against the wall of the tunnel, and then the pain was gone.

"Kalakhesh of the Shaarat'khesh," hissed an unfamiliar voice in her mind. "You have taken something from the Daughters of Sora Kell, khesh'dar. I will have the book, and your secrets."

"Shit." Thorn whispered.

Whatever had entered the tavern, it wanted the book, and Thorn knew she had to escape before Kalakhesh revealed that he didn't have it anymore, or even gave her away. There was only one way out of here, so she needed to play this smart or she'd be dead, or worse. She fell back on her training, unconsciously moving her fingers to form the somatic components for a spell, as her mouth formed the words she needed to say. She felt the surge of power as her spell took hold, but she didn't have time to stop and examine the enchantment. She then took a moment to rummage in her pouch, producing the potion she was looking for.

Perhaps it was overkill, but Thorn didn't know what was out there and she wasn't taking any risks. She downed the potion, and as she felt it travel down her throat she observed her hands disappear from in front of her eyes, and knew that she was now invisible. Thorn mouthed a silent prayer to Olladra, and then crept along the crevasse. Thoughts of her father came to her then, unbidden, he had raised her as a Vassal, but the gods had abandoned him to die in the war against Cyre. She drew her dagger, trusting in Steel more than she trusted in Olladra, even if the god was listening.

Trusting her invisibility to hold, Thorn stepped out into the tavern. Kalakhesh was stood in front of her, his muscle rigid and his veins bulging out of his skin. The tavern was completely silent, the patrons watching events unfold and hoping that nobody took notice of them, shocked into silence by the creature that stood in the doorway. It was vaguely humanoid, though its limbs and digits were longer than they had any right to be, dressed in a suit and top hat like you might find anywhere in the Five Nations. They were gaunt, too thin, his oily flesh a similar shade of purple to a bruise. Four tentacles swayed from the creatures face, roughly where its mouth should've been, and their eyes were pale and octopus-like. Their appearance was horrifying, but worse than that was the sheer malevolance that Thorn could feel emanating from the creature.

"Mind flayer" whispered Steel.

Droaam was a land ruled by fear, despite the efforts of the Daughters of Sora Kell. Most of its denizens easily terrified humans, weak and lacking natural weaponry that they are, but it took something truly horrifying to shock ogres and minotaurs into silence.

"Xor'chylic, the mayor of Graywall. Any mind flayer would be dangerous, Thorn, but you cannot fight this one. You need to leave, now. Abandon the goblin," Steel advised.

Thorn knew he was right, and even so she hesitated. She had heard the stories, even if she'd never seen one before she vaguely knew what a mind flayer was and what it could do. Xor'chylic was walking slowly into the tavern, drinking in the fear that was thick in the air. Kalakhesh was paralyzed, perhaps held in place by the mind flayer's mind, and could only watch as his death slowly approached. He'd be lucky if death was all Xor'chylic had planned, if the stories had even a grain of truth to them.

It would be an awful way to die for anyone, to have your thoughts stripped bare, but it would be even worse for a spy. If Xor'chylic got to him, he would force Kalakhes to betray his country, to betray his people, and reveal their secrets.

"What are you waiting for? Get out of there!" Steel hissed.

Thorn crept up behind the goblin, carefully eyeing his neck. She would get only one chance at this, and she had to make sure she killed him in a single strike, as the invisibility would fade the moment she attacked and would reveal her to the room. To the mind flayer. It was a risk she shouldn't have taken, but she found that her conscience wouldn't allow her to abandon the goblin to this fate. She grabbed Kalakhesh's head with one hand, and drove her dagger into the base of his skull with the other. He jerked as the dagger severed his spinal column at the base of his head, and jerked, blood blossoming out and coating the stunned onlookers. She then slammed her palm into the back of the goblin's head, violently pushing him to the floor and sliding her dagger free. It was rougher than it needed to be, but she couldn't afford for her weapon to get stuck.

A tingling sizzled across Thorn's skin as her invisibility potion failed. For an instant, she saw her appearance reflected in the bulbous eyes of the mayor of Graywall, saw the snakes curling around her head and the red scales covering her skin. Xor'chylic's head jerked down as their hands rose to cover their eyes, attempting to avoid her deadly gaze. Heads all across the tavern turned away or otherwise averted their eyes to avoid making eye contact with the medusa that had appeared in their midst, with nothing to cover their eyes.

Thorn snatched Kalakhesh's bag from the floor and bolted, pushing Xor'chylic out of her way as she went. She felt a wave of agony course through her as the word Stop! was screamed in her mind, and all around her she noted the patrons of the Bloody Tavern drop to the floor and writhe as they were caught in Xor'chylic's mind blast. Thorn was no stranger to pain, however, and pushed through it as she ran through the door. In their anger and urgency, Xor'chylic had inadvertently stunned anyone that might've gotten in Thorn's way, buying her the time to break out into the street and make her escape. She slipped between the legs of one of the heavily armoured ogres that was blocking the doorway and made a break for the alleyway opposite the tavern.

Thorn ducked into the alleyway. She knew where she was going, she had scouted ahead before going in and worked out her escape route. She followed the alleyway, which was too narrow for the ogres or trolls to follow her. She took a moment to collect herself, and allow the adrenaline flooding her system to flush, doubling over slightly and looking down into a puddle of some unidentifiable liquid. The face that looked back up at her via the reflection wasn't her own, but the face of a medusa. The spell she'd cast in the Bloody Tooth, merely an illusion, but nobody would take the chance of looking a medusa in the eye. Her reflection blurred as she dropped the illusion, and her own face stared back up at her from the water. She drew her dagger, absent-mindedly twirling her thumb on the pommel.

"We're safe." she whispered.

"I doubt it. Disguised or not, you revealed yourself to Xor'chyclic. He'll be able to track your thoughts." Steel warned.

"Please," Thorn said. "I know we haven't worked together before, but I am a Dark Lantern. I learned counter-divination in my first year of training." she replied.

"And Xor'chyclic is a mind flayer, and if our intelligence is to be believed, a greatly powerful one. Your technique is impressive, but we can only guess at their capabilities. They're an unknown quantity."

"You didn't see his eyes. Whatever powers he has, he was too surprised to get a lock on me." Thorn replied.

"He will find a way. The Znir Pact could track your scent, it's all over the tavern." Steel chastised.

"I have a plan, and I don't need to explain myself to my dagger." Thorn responded, slipping Steel back into his sheathe before he could respond.

Thorn was an accomplished spellcaster, though she wouldn't describe herself as a wizard. She could cast a handful of spells, ones that were useful in her line of work. In particular, a spell she had learned from a druid that allowed one to mask any evidence of their passing, including their scent. She tried to cast it then, but her reservoir of magical energy was exhausted and the magic wouldn't come to her. She cursed under her breath, glad that Steel couldn't taunt her, and proceeded down the alleyways until she arrived at a small courtyard behind the Grist Mills, where several alleyways converged.

The smell was enough to turn Thorn's stomach, the mix of rotting meat and tanning leather, but it was more than just the smell from the Grist Mill that was making her eyes water. There was a pile of gore on the ground, some unfortunate animal, most likely, and it was the likely source of much of the pungent odor. Thorn could use it to mask her own scent, if not for the monster that was lounging next to the offal, lazily chewing on what seemed to be the leg of a horse.

Her first thought upon seeing the creature was that it had the face of King Boranel, or something very similar. The strong brow, prominent nose, wide cheekbones. It even had his beard, styled exactly the same way that the king did his. The creature's head was roughly twice the size of the real King Boranel's head, though, and its mouth was lined with two rows of vicious looking teeth. Red leathery wings spread out as the creature met Thorn's gaze, revealing that it had the body of a lion, and a spined tail lazily rose up behind it.

Thorn had seen manticores before, during a mission in the Mror Holds. This was the largest one she had ever seen, however, and their features were less wild than the ones she'd encountered before. Certainly, none of the others had looked like King Boranel, something that Thorn still wasn't quite sure she was really seeing. A remnant of the mind flayer's mind blast, perhaps?

"Are you hungry, little one?" the manticore rumbled, blood dripping from its mouth as it spoke. "You're welcome to a leg. I assume you don't want an arm."

The manticore leaned down, and Thorn heard the sickening crack of bone snapping. When his head rose again, a human arm was dangling from his jaws. Thorn took a good look at the gore, saw the human torso, and struggled to keep her gorge from rising. The manticore raised his head and swallowed the arm whole, and Thorn was both horrified and fascinated to see his neck bulge as the arm traveled down his gullet.

Thorn's first instinct was to flee, and she could feel the terror rising in her stomach (or was vomit?), but she held her ground. A manticore was downright mundane compared to the mayor of Graywall, and she'd faced them down already tonight. The manticore seemed more curious than aggressive, this was an opportunity.

"I've had my fill of horse for one evening, thank you. How's your appetite for flesh?" she asked

"My hunger is all-consuming, but you have chosen your shape well. I have no taste for elf, and I can see the taint of the old ones in your features." The manticore sank his teeth into the humanoid torso, breaking the ribs and tearing out the heart, which he then swallowed. "What brings you to this place?"

"I wanted to take in the air," Thorn replied, taking a deep breath and trying not to choke. "I've heard so much about the night breezes in Droaam."

The manticore laughed, a thundering sound that echoed off the walls of the courtyard. "I see there is strength within your fragile frame, but it's not safe to be walking the back alleys at night, not with the moons on the rise. Even the Daughters of Sora Kell and their orders cannot hold back nature."

"I've heard similar, but I've never been one to take advice from strangers." Thorn replied.

"And are we? Strangers?" the manticore asked, smiling at Thorn and revealing his blood soaked teeth. Thorn was bewildered at the jovial manner of the manticore, and wondered if this was just a game preceeding her joining the unfortunate individual in the pile of gore. She was committed now, however.

"Stranger than most" came the response, and the manticore chuckled again. "I suppose that's true."

"Of course, the best place to take in the air is...in the air," Thorn said, her plan coming together. "Could you help me with that?"

Masking her scent with the offal would work, but flying away from the crime scene would be better. The manticore considered this as he chewed on the corpse's other arm.

"You would sit on my back? Hold fast to my mane?"

"That's what I had in mind."

"And you have no fear of my venom?" he asked, as the stinger that tipped his tail shuddered, a drop of venom glistening on the tip. "My spite has laid dragons low."

"Give me your word that you'll give me safe passage, and I'll trust you." Thorn responded, hoping her courage held.

"And why would you say such a thing, child of elves?"

"You have an honest face," she responded. She wasn't sure why, herself, for some reason she just believed it. She felt as if she'd seen this creature before, perhaps in a dream, or a memory?

The manticore licked his paw, and then dabbed the blood from his chin. "And the payment? What do you offer for the might of my wings on this night?"

"What do you want?" Thorn asked. She'd been expecting it, but she didn't know exactly what to expect. The creature had no hands, would it have need of gold? Would it want the rubies she had reclaimed from Kalakhesh?

"A story."

The others were trying to get the giant to come out of his shell, though he remained sullen. Eventually, they did manage to get him to speak.

"My tale begins on Xen'drik..."

Thorn was sure that the tale was fascinating, but more importantly it was an opportunity. Whilst everyone else was focused on the giant and his tale, Thorn slipped her hand beneath the table and gently touched the hilt of her dagger.

"Confirm: the envelope at your seat is addressed to Thorn?"

Thorn tapped the blade once with her forefinger, the code for "Yes".

"We're in luck then."

Gorodan was explaining how he had grown too ambitious, and had been exiled from his people. Thorn took the opportunity.

"I'm not sure I understand, could you elaborate?"

"Sora Teraza is an oracle. It's difficult to determine exactly what's capable of, just like with all of the Daughters of Sora Kell, the truth is hopelessly entangled with centuries of legends. We've lost agents in Droaam before due to Teraza's prescience. It's not surprising she'd know your identity. This is good because they know who you are, and they haven't had you killed."

What? There was a chance they'd have her killed? There was no way for Thorn to ask this question subtly, so she waited for an appropriate moment in Gorodan's story.

"That is very interesting."

"The Daughters had to know the nations would send spies, they're probably counting on it. They want to make sure that whatever happens here is heard about all over Khorvaire, so of course they know who and what you are. We can assume they don't know about your secondary mission, though, as they likely would've taken more direct action to stop you by now. Dax'Athla and the Cyrans have messages in their envelopes, have you looked inside yours?"

Thorn tapped the blade twice, the code for "No".

"Obviously you shouldn't open it now, it's not addressed to you, but you'd best take it with you. In any case, about your companions-"

Steel's speech and Gorodan's story were both cut short as the floatng lights flared and then dimmed, drawing together to create a single pool of light between the tables. A single figure silhouetted by the spotlight.

Sora Katra.

Thorn had remained at the feast long enough to identify all of the remaining warlords, and then complained of a sore stomach and asked a guard to escort her back to her quarters. Thorn's room, though it was more of a cell really, was sparesely furnished. There was a bed, which was an improvement over sleeping in her tent, and a small table with a single candle on it. She sat on the bed, running her thumb along the hilt of her dagger and studying the envelope left for her at the dinner  table.

"I'll bet I missed a beautiful sunset." Thorn said. It was a code phrase, a way to communicate to other Lanterns that she was concerned about magical surveillance.

"We are not being observed." Steel whispered.

"You're certain?" Thorn asked.

"One of my primary functions is to sense the use of scrying or other active divination magic. I've served with thrity-two Dark Lanterns in my time with the King's Citadel, and I have never been mistaken." said Steel, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"At least, you've never had a diviner drop by to tell you that you were mistaken." Thorn corrected. This did not help.

"I've never had a mission be compromised by magical surveillance whilst the Dark Lantern has listened to my recommendations."

"So, no eyes or ears?" Thorn asked.

"None. What are your conclusions so far, Lantern Thorn?"

"Let's see. I've just seen a childhood nightmare threaten to trap the soul of anyone who tries to steal from her, and I've also been told that she knows who I am and possibly why I'm here. So, I'm not sure that I have a conclusion exactly, but I've been wondering whether Sora Maenya will keep my skull on the mantleplace or whether she might use it as a paperweight. Maybe she'll even stick it to her fridge!" 

"Thorn..."

"Don't worry, I've been through worse." Thorn said as she flipped the dagger into the air and caught it. As dangerous as the situation was, she was just glad to be back in the field. The months that she was relegated to office work had eaten away at her, and she was willing to accept the danger if it meant getting back out again. "So, let's look at what we know. Sora Katra's position is that Droaam is stronger than ever, and that it isn't a threat to the Five Nations unless we turn down their request for sovereignty, in which case they'll tear the heads off of our children."

"More or less."

"However, we've seen signs that Droaam isn't quite as unified as Sora Katra would have us believe. She didn't explain the Harpy attack, but from what we heard in the Duurwood it was the work of a harpy chieftain in league with one of the other warlords. We spoke to many of the warlords today and it seems that quite a few of them are only here because they've been ordered to be here, and what about the warlords who aren't here? We know there is at least Rhesh Turakbar on the border with Breland, and what of this Callain? Of the warlords here, Zaeurl seems to be in favour, but Gorodan, Sheshka and Tzaryan were all mentioned as possible traitors by the elf in the Duurwood. If one of the warlords is still working with the harpies, they may still plan to murder the delegates. Sheshka has asked for a private audience with Lord Beren tomorrow, which would be a conventiant opportunity to add another statue to her collection."

"Your escorts brought a harpy prisoner with them, I'd assume the Daughters now know which of their warlords has betrayed them. Regardless, protecting the delegates is the bodyguard's job, you have another mission."

"Ah, yes, the mission that's likely to end in a shiny new Thorn fridge magnet. There's also this." Thorn said as she tapped the envelope she had received.

"I assume it's a threat, they know who you are and want to warn you not to engage in anything beyond basic espionage."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not planning anything beyond basic espionage"

Thorn pried open the envelope with her fingernail and pulled out the note.

"Well, this is an interesting way to send a warning. I can't read it." Thorn said. Of course she couldn't read it, all the other notes had been written in Draconic.

"Let me see it" said Steel.

Thorn laid the note on the bed and passed the knife over the top of it.

"Confirmed, it is draconic. I don't know why they'd expect you to be able to read it, but it's not a warning. Well, it's not an obvious warning if it is one. It says 'Nothing lost remains lost forever, not even a bone in an ossuary.'"

"Ossuary?"

"A receptacle for bones. Often an urn, though we can discern from context clues that it's referring to something larger. A pit, perhaps."

"Of course, that explains everything! Why didn't we see it sooner, they're trying to confuse us to death!" Thorn stood up, flipping the dagger to set the blade against her wrist. "I think the tales of Sora Teraza's madness might be more accurate than the stories of her foresight. Shall we put it to the test?"

"Such talk is not befitting your station, Lantern Thorn. Are you planning to change your clothing?"

Thorn was still wearing the gown she'd worn for the feast, a lovely deep blue dress with silver trim, complete with jewelerry and a short train. A ridiculous thing to wear whilst committing basic espionage.

"You may have centuries of experience with scrying, Steel, but I'm not letting a dagger make decisions about my wardrobe."

"but..."

"The feast is still ongoing, and should be for hours. I'd rather be poor Nyrielle Tam, lost in the dark whilst trying to find her way back to the party, than Dark Lantern Thorn skulking about and waiting to get her soul ripped out and put into her skull." Thorn replied.

"Surprisingly wise, but what about your guardian ogre?" Steel asked.

"Surprisingly wise? Fuck off." Nyrielle said as she slipped out of her room.

Thorn stepped out into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind her. Her ogre guardian had his back to her, waiting diligently to escort her to wherever she might want to go. The corridor went in two directions, but ended abruptly in the one direction with a latrine for the larger denizens of the Crag. Her guard was watching the other direction, the only direction anybody would approach from. She was still wearing the dress and heels she had worn to the party, which would normally have gotte in the way of moving silently, but the enchantment on her outfits silenced her footsteps despite the heels.

Thorn had spent much of her time on the journey to the Crag reading, specifically the notes that were in Kalakhesh's bag. The goblin had spent months in the Great Crag, working as a servant, and he had thoroughly mapped the layout of the tunnels and, crucially, the sewers. He had written his notes with a cypher, and in goblin, but Thorn had managed to crack it on the journey and had a rough idea of how to get around via the sewer system and the ogre latrines. She made her way silently down the corridor to the ogre's latrine, shutting the door behind her.

"Ah, the privy. I suppose it's wise to empty your bowels before engaging in a dangerous task, but you appear to have entered the wrong one, you'll have a job balancing over that toilet."

Thorn ignored him, changing her dress into her sneaking leathers with a thought. She'd want the dress back on the other side, but it wasn't an ideal garment for climbing and she didn't want the stench of the sewers to cling to it at any rate. Reaching into her pockets, she produced a ring that she had always recovered from Kalakhesh's sack, and placed it on her right ring finger. She felt a sensation like spider webs spread across her hands and feet, and fought to suppress a shudder, but she knew she'd now be able to climb effortlessly.

Taking a deep breath, Thorn lowered herself into the ogre-sized hole, and set her hands and feet against the opposite walls of the waste shaft, and tried her best not to think about what she was touching. She''d be able to prestidigitate herself when she was out of the sewers, but for the moment she had to live with the unbearable filth, and the insects were seriously making Thorn rethink her choice of profession. A centipede fell into her hair and she nearly slipped as she tried to shake it off.

Thorn wanted to find the room of the warlord Sheshka, but Sheshka hadn't been at the Crag when Kalakhesh was, and his notes didn't include her quarters. It did have the location of another warlord's room, however, which had given her an idea. She made her way to her destination, and awfully ascended the shaft to another ogre privy, and she prayed to all of the Sovereigns, Olladra most of all, that there wouldn't be an ogre using it. She was in luck, and exited the toilet into another over-sized privy with goblin graffiti scribbled onto the walls. Guun was here, good for them. It was ridiculous, but the fact that the Droaamites were leaving graffiti in the bathrooms made Thorn smile, something else that they had in common.

She removed the ring from her finger, feeling the spider climb enchantment fade, and shifted her clothing back to her dress. She drew Steel from his sheathe and held him with the blade against her forearm.

"No magical auras, and no one watching you through magical means." Steel whispered in her mind.

Thorn nodded her acknowledgement, and stepped out into the corridor. "You've wandered away from the party," she thought to herself, "and you've accidentally bypassed dozens of guards without being seen and found your way into the latrine. Perfectly logical, everyone needs to use the toilet sometimes."

The corridor beyond was taller and wider than those in the guest quarters, she could easily see multiple ogres walking side by side. Or a giant, perhaps. She silently made her way down the corridor and froze as a troll walked passed the intersection, looking like it had come straight from Sora Katra's illusions, it even had a skull embedded into its breastplate. Thankfully, the troll didn't even look in her direction and Thorn didn't have to seriously consider how dead she would be if she got into a fight with such a creature.

The dragonshard embedded at the base of her neck throbbed, causing Thorn's jaw to involuntarily clench and grind her teeth together. She placed her hand on the wall to steady herself and wait for it to pass, and within moments the pain dulled into a faint ache. She continued on her way until she saw light, which was a good sign, it indicated that Kalakhesh's notes had been correct. Thorn slipped into the quarters of the Children of Zaeurl, intending to steal one of their uniforms to allow her to travel unbothered through the Crag, when she heard a familiar voice choking through words. She followed the sound, finding a pool of blood next to an open doorway, with a single sharp tooth sitting in the middle of the puddle.

Thorn slid closer to the door and heard a thud, the dull sound of flesh striking flesh, and then a body rebounding off of a stone wall. Someone was being beaten, and the sound was followed closely by cruel laughter and the voice of a young man.

"I told you that we'd be watching" came the voice, which was familiar to Thorn but she couldn't place where she'd heard it. The voice that responded was one she was well acquianted with, however.

"I would rather die than receive your 'blessing'" came Ghyrryn's gruff voice, his speech slurred from pain. The man laughed in response and it all snapped into place, the elven man from the Duurwood.

"Fortunate for us both, then, because your death is exactly what I had in mind. I'm just not sure what I want to eat first, your arms of your legs."

Thorn clicked together the mithral bracelets she wore under the sleeves of her gown, and they extended along her forearms, becoming armoured bracers.

"Thorn, what are you doing?" came Steel's voice, ignored as Thorn stepped into the room.

Ghyrryn had been beaten within an inch of his life. His fur was matted with blood, and he'd lost more than just the tooth on the ground behind Thorn. He was being held up against the wall by an ogre, their forearm pressed into Ghyrryn's throat, holding him at least a foot off the ground. Ghyrryn was gasping for breath, blood frothing from his working mouth as it seeped from the wounds left behind by his missing teeth, and his right eye was swollen shut. The young elven man that Thorn had seen in the Duurwood stood between her and the ogre, holding a hatchet in one hand and a blood stained knife in the other, the only other creature in the room was a grey furred wolf, which turned to look at Thorn before the others noticed her.

Thorn gasped in horror, raising her hand to cover her mouth and bringing her other arm up to her chest as if she was about to faint. "What is going on here!?" she gasped.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, and the silence stretched on for far longer than was comfortable. The ogre snarled, dropping Ghyrryn and beginning to make his way over to her, but he was stopped by the raised arm of the elf. "Don't, you have your orders." the elf snapped.

"Who are you!?" Thorn yelled, filling her voice with as much shock and terror as she could muster.

"That's not your concern," the elf said as he took a step towards her, the wolf padding over to stand next to him. "How did you get here?"

A second voice spoke at the same time as the elf, this one in her mind.

"What are you doing? Thorn, get out of there! Now!" came Steel's voice, tinged with urgency.

Thorn stood frozen, her eyes wide, every bit the waifish aide to the ambassador of Breland who had just wandered off the path. A chill began at the base of her spine, ebbing from the dragonshard embedded there, the same sensation that Thorn had experienced in the Duurwood when she witnessed the meeting, and again when she'd met Zaeurl at the feast. Thorn knew next to nothing about the elf, but from his bearing she could surmise that he was used to getting his way. She was trusting that he wouldn't kill her immediately, she was a diplomat and as he'd said to the ogre, they had orders, and as long as she remained silent she couldn't say anything that would compromise that image.

"Speak, woman!" he snapped as he took another step towards her and entered her reach. Steel flashed in the light of the torches as Thorn lunged forward. The elf's eyes widened as he realised what was happening, and though he was quick, Thorn was quicker, and he'd come far too close. Steel went straight into the elf's left eye, and then Thorn struck the pommel with the heel of her hand and drove it deep into his brain. His eyes widened in shock as he spasmed, his nervous system carrying the message of his death to his extremities. Thorn kicked him in the chest in an effort to dislodge her dagger from his skull, but it refused to budge.

Her time was up, and the wolf was upon her. She got her armoured bracer between them, and felt the pressure of the wolf's bite force onto her arm even though its teeth didn't penetrate her flesh. Thorn pushed into the wolf, pressing her armoured bracer even further into its throat and it let go, sputtering as it back away, but this gave the ogre space to charge her. All she saw was the massive fist coming towards her face, prepared to crush her with his bare hands, and she had no time to avoid it.

What happened next made no sense to Thorn, and she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. She caught the ogre's fist in her own comparatively tiny hand, and she'd hardly felt it. The ogre looked just as surprised as she was, considering his right arm had more muscle in it than she had in her entire body. She didn't have time think about it, couldn't allow herself time to doubt what was happening, and she grabbed onto the ogres arm with both of hers and twisted, throwing the ogre over her shoulder, directly into the leaping wolf who yelped as it was crushed under the weight of its companion. 

Thorn dropped into a crouch and opened her hand. Steel wiggled as he dislodged himself from the elf's skull, and flew into Thorn's waiting hand. The ogre got to its feet, cursing in goblin, and drew an enormous cleaver from its belt.

"Unwise, delegate. I don't cares for orders, you becomes meat tonight." the ogre said, and Thorn felt a shiver pass through her spine. At least Steel kept quiet.

The wolf moved first, it had circled behind her whilst she was focused on the ogre, and went for her tendons. She hadn't lost track of it, however, and as it lunged she twisted and gave it a mouthful of her dress, and then drove her dagger into its spine, rolling over it and away just in time as the ogres cleaver came down and almost split the wolf in two. By all accounts, the wolf should've been out of the fight, but it wasn't and it almost managed to get her in her surprise. She jumped back and away from its snapping jaws, wondering if she'd imagined the ogres blow. She had no time to examine what was happening, a second impossible thing in one fight, and she tried to reposition but failed as the ogre's cleaver smashed into her chest.

Thorn smashed off of the stone floor, her head bouncing off of the ground and filling her with nausea. She was lucky, as crazy as that sounded in the moment, as the ogre had hit her with the flat of his blade, and so she was thankfully still in one piece. Thorn began to struggle to her feet, fighting down the nausea and trying to gather her wits, and then the wolf was on her again. She felt certain she would die this time, but there was a flash of silver and a splash of blood, hot on her face, but it wasn't hers. Ghyrryn stoop over him, having driven the silvered spear of his myrnaxe into the wolf's throat.

He'd saved her life, but in doing so had opened himself to the ogre. Thankfully, he was still wearing his armour and it took the brunt of the blow, but he was already injured and the cleaver dented his armour, driving it into his torso. He gasped and yelped in pain, falling back and blocking the next blow with his myrnaxe.

The situation was hopeless, Ghyrryn was seriously wounded, blood streaming down his body from his injuries, and his enemy seemed to be an unstoppable wall of muscle and malicious intent. Ghyrryn wasn't trying to fight though, just create space, and he managed to move the ogre away from Thorn, turning his back to her. Thorn was still on the ground, pinned beneath the wolf, but she pushed it aside and slowly got to her feet, struggling to remain standing as the wave of disorientation hit her. Ghyrryn fell, the ogre smashing the myrnaxe from his grasp, and Thorn was out of time. She pushed through the pain and threw Steel, lodging the dagger into the base of the ogre's skull as he raised his arm to finish Ghyrryn off. The ogre twitched, his cleaver falling from his grasp, and at the same time Ghyrryn reclaimed his fallen myrnaxe and plunged the silvered spear into the ogres torso as it fell, pushing it away so that the falling bulk didn't crush him.

Thorn collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as she fought back the nausea and waited for the room to stop spinning. Gnolls were tough as nails, and Ghyrryn got back to his feet. He looked at the fallen ogre, stabbing it again to be sure it was dead, and then looked at Steel embedded in the ogres neck. Thorn raised her hand, and Steel pulled himself free of the corpse and flew back into her hand. Ghyrryn raised an eyebrow at Thorn, who laughed despite the situation.

"Smaller than a crossbow, and easier to conceal in my dress" she explained, giggling to herself as the adrenaline flooded her body. Ghyrryn crouched over the ogre for a moment, working its jaw, and when he stood back up he was holding one of its tusks in his hand, which he held up to Thorn.

"Take it. He waits for you in the world to come, and you must honour him." Ghyrryn said. Thorn held out her hands, respecting the gnoll's culture, and Ghyrryn dropped the tusk into them.

"You fought for me." Ghyrryn stated, blood dripping from his mouth as he removed his ruined armour.

"You saved our lives at Korlaak Pass." Thorn replied.

"True. Explain your purpose."

Thorn studied Ghyrryn carefully as she rose unsteadily to her feet. "I'm searching for a statue, and I want to know where Queen Sheshka resides."

"Describe the statue."

Thorn drew the tome from her glove, showing Ghyrryn the image on its cover. Ghyrryn studied it for a few moments, and then he looked at her in silence for several moments.

"The statue was on display in the Great Hall, it was moved in preperation for the feast. Where, I do not know. We will pass Sheshka's quarters on the way back to your own, Nyrielle Tam."

Thorn gestured at the corpses. "What...what will you do? About this?"

"I will speak to the Pact. The children of Zaeurl do not sleep when the moons are full, and this will not be known. The Pact must be informed."

Thorn nodded. "I thank you for my life, Ghyrryn."

"We have shared blood. You need new clothing, take what you will from this place."

Thorn was surprised but she wasn't going to argue, that was why she'd come here in the first place after all. She quickly searched the room, finding a uniform that would fit her, and shoved it into a sack.

"A final gift," Ghyrryn said, holding his myrnaxe towards her. "We have shared blood, but you placed yourself in danger when you had taken no vow. You are of the Pact."

"That's alright, I don't really need it." Thorn replied, but Ghyrryn shook his head.

"You will."

Thorn remembered how the wolf just shrugged off a blow that should have split it in two, and nodded, taking the myrnaxe from Ghyrryn and storing it in her glove. 

Thorn and Ghyrryn made their way through the Crag, Thorn just following, trusting that Ghyrryn knew where he was going. They soon came across a squad of gnolls, who rapidly communicated in their whines and yips, and the gnolls went in the direction that Thorn and Ghyrryn had come from. The two then made their way to the Znir Pact barracks, a large room that was absolutely filled with gnolls, all tending to their armour and weapons. The pairs arrival caused a stir in the dorm, and the pack crowded around Ghyrryn, hooting and hollering in their own language.

Fharg pushed her way through the throng, and forced Ghyrryn to sit on a nearby bed while she tended to his wounds. Thorn collapsed onto the bed next to him, the pain in the dragonshards fading to the usual ache, but still suffering from waves of nausea from her head. Fharg examined her, sniffing at her wounds and confirming that they weren't infected. Fharg rubbed the numbing ointment into Thorn's bruised torso, taking pains to rub it into her wounds and the pain was replaced with a faint buzzing tingle. Fharg was quick and efficient, and paused when she discovered the dragonshards embedded in Thorn's back. Fharg ran a clawed finger around the scarred flesh surrounding them.

"Hurt?" Fharg asked, and the stone throbbed painfully as the gnoll's hand passed over it.

"It's fine." she said.

Ghyrryn seemed more concerned with Thorn's health than his own, and he was still bruised and battered when she rose to her feet. "You will go now. We return you to your place." he said

A familiar figure emerged from the pack, Jharl. The archer stepped forward, placing his fur cloak around Thorn's shoulders. "Ghyrryn has explained. Follow."

Thorn took the cloak, and followed Jharl into the hallway, the hem of the cloak dragging along the ground behind her much as it had for Dax'Athla. Nobody noted the passing of the gnoll or their hooded companion.

"Ghyrryn said you are looking for a statue." Jharl stated matter of factly.

"Yes, the statue of a warrior."

"I do not know where it has been moved, but the Queen of Stone spends much time with it. It has meaning for her. Perhaps it is her trophy, as we keep memories of the fallen. She has spent time with it, watching it."

"I see. Thank you for telling me. What about Ghyrryn? Why did Zaeurl's children attack him? and the ogre-"

Jharl stopped abruptly and made a hand gesture at her. "It is not our place to speak of this. This is a time of change, we will remain. You do not fight the storm, you wait for it to pass."

"What are you saying?"

"Droaam is change. There is opportunity, but also danger."

Thorn tried to question him more, but Jharl gestured to the passage to his left. "This tunnel leads to the abode of Sheshka. She sets guardians, we cannot go closer."

Thorn nodded, and Jharl led her back to the guest quarters. Thorn glanced into the cells, but Beren and Toli's beds were still empty. Quite the party they must be having.

Thorn sat down on her bed and contemplated sleep, but there was too much swirling around in her head. She summoned the myrnaxe from her glove and considered it, how best to use it. She wasn't trained to fight with a myrnaxe, it's exceedingly difficult to get one, but she had received basic weapons training during her time in the Brelish army. She would need to practice with it before she used it in an actual fight, unfamiliarity with one's weapon could get one killed.

The axe-head of the Myrnaxe was steel, and surprisingly high quality for what Thorn knew of Droaam. Metal was supposed to be hard to come by, yet the guards at the Crag were exceedingly well equipped, with ogres wearing full suits of plate armour, though much of it was in less than stellar condition. The myrnaxe wasn't like that, it was high quality steel and it was clearly well maintained, Thorn would need to take care to preserve its condition. The spearhead on the opposite end of the shaft was made of a different metal, one that Thorn knew was silver from her previous conversation with the Mist Walkers.

She lay the myrnaxe down on the bed and took a deep breath, and then drew Steel form his sheathe and sighed.

"Explain your actions."

"Why?"

"You endangered this mission, and I would like to know your reasoning."

"I endangered the mission? Steel, without me there isn't a mission to endanger. Perhaps you'd like to accomplish it on your own?" Thorn snapped as she set the dagger down on the bed, next to the Myrnaxe. She waited a full sixty seconds before she picked it back up. She heard Steel's voice the moment she touched it.

"I have worked with thirty two Lan-"

Thorn dropped the dagger again and folded her arms. "Yes, thirty-two Lanterns, and I'm just the latest of them. Zane told me that you would advise me, and you have been very helpful, but I don't answer to you. I'm going to follow my own instincts, and do what I think is the right thing to do, and I believe in this case that I did so."

She waited a few minutes more, and then picked the dagger up again. A few seconds passed before Steel spoke this time, and his voice was softer when he did.

"Please explain your decision, Lantern Thorn."

"I spent six days with Ghyrryn on our journey to the Crag. I watched him fight, I watched him dealing with Zaeurl's children in the Duurwood, and I believe that he's a gnoll of his word. We need allies, and I am confident that Ghyrryn will stand by someone who saved his life. He wasn't willing to spill Droaam's secrets, but I don't think he'll tell any of the warlords about me."

"Our reports suggest that the Znir Pact is a neutral force within Droaam, and they have a reputation for sticking to their word." Steel conceded.

"Thanks to my actions, I've learned where Sheshka's quarters are, and that she has guards that frighten the gnolls. I also now know that Harryn's statue used to be in the Great Hall but has been relocated, and that the statue has meaning to Sheshka, that she's fascinated by it."

"You think she had the statue moved to her quarters?"

"I think that's a reasonable assumption. Sheshka arrives at the Great Crag for the summit, gets her room set up, and then asks to borrow her favourite toy to add a little colour."

A few moments passed in silence, and then Steel spoke again.

"I apologise. I have known you for less than a month, and I was told that you might be...unstable, as a result of your last mission. I should not have questioned your judgment."

"You can question it all you want, I never said that I was stable, but I don't take orders from you. If you want to be partners, that's different, I'll consider your advice but ultimately I am the Dark Lantern here, and I will act on my judgment."

Perhaps you won't die on me, Thorn thought to herself.

"Very well."

"Now that that's settled, what happened back there?"

"I don't know what you mean, I couldn't see much more than the inside of that elf's eye socket."

"With the Ogre, I blocked his punch with my hand, and then threw him over my shoulder. That shouldn't have been possible, did you do that?"

"I did not, that is not one of my abilities. I can do nothing to enhance your combat ability, other than being a sharp object"

"So you don't know what happened?"

"No, it's difficult to study magical auras when you're being thrust into someone's eye socket. Could you have imagined it?"

"Steel, I threw the ogre across the room, and what about the wolf? I stabbed it right in the spine with you, it was a perfect blow, and it didn't even slow it down. Even the ogres cleaver smashing it didn't stop it."

"The wolf stayed down after Ghyrryn stabbed it with the myrnaxe. Did anything happen to its body afterwards?"

"I don't know what you mean, it was...dead. Just a dead wolf."

"Hmm. Most shapechangers revert to their true form upon death, it's supposed to be true of werewolves. Regardless, the silvered spearhead put it down."

Thorn mulled this over for a moment.

"What will you do now?" Steel asked.

"I know you hate it when I do these reckless and crazy things, but I was thinking I might get some sleep." Thorn answered.