Chapter 15 - Part 3

The cottage had no second story, it was a sprawling affair with a small stables, a vegetable garden, some storage sheds, and about eight or nine rooms from what Orphan could see. The warforged found it puzzling. From his experience Dragonmarked Houses all had heavily fortified, multi-story enclaves with dozens of guards. This place was just a cottage, if a large one. An older woman named Mistress Greoche ran it with four other people. Only two seemed to be investigators of any kind, and neither were dragonmarked. Another one was a menial servant, and the fourth one a large hybrid of orc and human parentage like Delegado. The only thing that marked this as different from some dowager’s country estate were stacks of metal boxes, a few open and full of documents, the rest carefully locked and labeled with little signs warning of traps.

Greoche herself seemed to positively glow. The woman was treating Delegado like royalty, waiting on him hand and foot, and slipping in praise whenever possible. Something about it made Orphan wonder, but he supposed that Delegado was simply a House celebrity. For his part Delegado loved it, at least for the first three minutes or so. Another three minutes after that and he bluntly told Greoche to knock it off.

“Ah, well,” she said, clearly not used to being addressed in such a fashion. “I am merely excited about your having brought good news, or at least tempered bad news, from Merylsward.” Delegado’s face clearly said he didn’t buy it, but was letting it slide.

Orphan stood very still as he watched and listened. Greoche wasn’t just embarrassed. She wanted to get Delegado to do something, and was angry at her own clumsiness.

“Well, we have work,” said one of the House investigators, an elf whose name Orphan had forgotten. His partner was a human, a blood member of Tharashk named Quinn.

“Yeah. We’re out and about,” Quinn said. “Work pays the bills. Good to see you again, Delegado, to meet your friends.”

“You’ve grown up fine, Quinn,” Delegado grinned. “Nice sense of professionalism.”

“You’re a year younger than me,” Quinn laughed, draining an ale cup as he stood. “Nice to meet you guys as well, Thomas, Orphan.”

Thomas grunted something, but Orphan told them it was pleasant to meet them as well. As they left, he heard Quinn tell the elf ‘that warforged seemed almost like a person.’

Delegado nodded to the other two, and Greoche dismissed them as well. Once they were gone, Orphan closed the doors, listening at them briefly. “We’re clear,” he told Delegado.

“What’s this about?” Greoche asked, puzzled.

Thomas stood, and undid his hood, then his cape, letting them both fall to the floor. His eyes gave off a soft glow, and the stormstalk whirled around, blinking, finally happy to be free.

Orphan was watching Greoche carefully, recalling her earlier oddness. He expected shock and disgust when she saw Thomas, but instead he saw – rapture.

“One of – them,” she sighed. “Here.”

Delegado misread her. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not like them. And he’s part of this thing.”

“What thing?” she asked.

“Pienna thinks that – well, I also think that – it’s hard to explain,” Delegado said.

“We are on a quest,” Orphan said. “We need to talk to Oalian. Something larger than even the war is afoot.”

“Let’s not go too far,” Delegado muttered.

“I seek peace,” Thomas told her. “Orphan seeks artifacts. Delegado seeks something that he does not fit to share with us, although we must tell him everything, of course.”

The half-orc looked surprised, but Greoche appeared not to have heard. She walked up to Thomas and raised her hand. “Can I touch it?” she asked.

Thomas nodded, unable to speak, and Greoche slowly ran her hand over the stormstalk’s neck. The symbiont seemed to purr.

“I guess you don’t have a problem hiding him for us,” Delegado said.

“The Gatekeepers would kill him on sight,” she said. “They do not see the nobility of the sculpted newflesh, they only see –” She coughed and withdrew her hand. “Well, if Pienna vouches for him, of course he can stay.”

“Good,” Delegado said, standing. “Because we have a shard field hip deep in mud of work to do.” He tossed some of their bags down. “We’ll leave that, go out a bit. Feather will stay in your eaves, he’s killed a rat by now you should know. Gonna find the Wardens first I think.” Delegado eyed Thomas carefully. “Have to explain a few things – a few people.”

“I need to speak with you privately first,” Greoche said. “Thomas, please make yourself comfortable in the room that way, there is a tray of food out for you. Not anything near the bounty that you are due, of course.”

“Whatever,” Thomas growled, turning and walking away. He slammed the door behind him.

“You’ve upset him,” Greoche said to Delegado.

“He’s never been a happy person,” Delegado shrugged. “He’s got issues with his father.”

“Well we can’t all be Bartemain’s son, now can we?” Greoche asked. “Send your thing away too, I need to discuss House business with you.”

“He’s not a thing, his name is Iron Orphan, or just Orphan, and he’s a House hireling,” Delegado said forcefully. “He’s in on the conversation.”

“And I say he’s not,” she said, even more forcefully. “And in you forgot, I am House manager here, and I decide what mercenaries get to know about –”

“I’m sponsoring him for induction,” Delegado said. “Just as soon as I can get to a Sivis agent with the equipment to transmit.”

“You’re what?” Orphan asked.

“You only get one of those,” Greoche pointed out. “And he’s not a person.”

“I say he is,” Delegado insisted.

“I don’t want to be –” Orphan began.

“Shut up,” Delegado told him. “Greoche, give way on this. I’m going to tell him anyway, and besides he has ears that can hear our conversation from the other side of town.”

“Ears?” she asked, looking at the warforged. “Where?”

“Actually,” Orphan began. “They’re more in the nature of –”

“What’s with you?” Delegado asked. “You’re all slobbery over an abomination but you don’t like a golem that can think for itself?”

“I don’t like being ordered around by some I spanked once,” she said.

“Doesn’t count if I was drunk,” he told her.

“I did it because you stole all of my rum and drank it!” she snapped.

“Well, duh,” he told her. “You think you would have caught me if I was sober?”

“How old was he when he did this?” Orphan asked.

“Six,” she told him.

“Nope, two weeks short of it,” Delegado said. “I was still five.”

“You were drinking rum at five years old?” Orphan asked.

“What? You think it stunted my growth?” Delegado said.

“Enough!” Greoche said. “Fine, he stays. Now sit down, this will take a bit.”

Delegado and Orphan sat, and Greoche began to rummage through her files. “Now let’s see here…” she said. “Ah!” She pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed two to Delegado.

“What am I looking at?” the half-orc asked.

“Copies of requisitions,” Greoche told him. “From House Deneith. They’ve been buying Eberron shards for some time now, in great quantities. The shards hold a spell in armor or weapons.”

Delegado stared at the dates. “Five months ago they’re moaning and witching about prices, and two months ago they’re suddenly ordering the same amount but with no complaints. They got of one the governments of Khorvaire to back their bid for something?”

“I wondered the same thing,” she said. She produced another document. Delegado read it and scowled. “Yes,” she said. “Thefts from shipments, small ones, not really on the radar, until the number of the small thefts are added up.” She turned to Orphan. “That’s a notice of increased security.”

“I see,” Orphan said, but he didn’t. She was lying about something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“You’ve got circumstantial stuff here,” Delegado said doubtfully. “We’re in the dragonshard finding business, so we’re the ones targeted by thieves.”

“Vestiol d’Phiarlan came by today,” she said. “Brogan is being coy about where he wants to take his Blademarks. He is here to sign up Children of Winter, however.”

“The vermin-worshippers?” Orphan asked.

“More like death and chaos worshippers,” she said. “They’ve notoriously unreliable, but Brogan spent a lot of time and money coming here to recruit them. He’ll talk to one or two others, perhaps, but he wants the Children of Winter – a group of people whose word is unreliable.”

Orphan smelled truth mixed into a lie, but all he asked her was “Brogan wants their ability to summon swarms of bugs?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyebrows tightening with irritation at Orphan’s interruptions. “This can be confirmed by watching who he meets with. Now he has made noise about attacking Droaam, but he would have to go over the Byeshk Mountains to get to them, and he has no mountain-climbing equipment.”

“Brogan is a jerk, but he’s not stupid,” Delegado said. “He’ll buy tents and crampons somewhere else.”

She went over to another metal box, did something with her fingers to disable some runes, and then produced a key. Unlocking the box she took out a folder paper marked ‘Secret,’ and gave it to Delegado. “An expedition’s report from a potential field some fifty miles north of Yrlag, technically in the Eldeen Reaches, but as they are not a recognized state under Galifar law, we are not obliged to recognize their borders when it comes to unsettled lands. They found a large field of Eberron dragonshards about five months ago. A month after that Lhazaar pirates hit a resupply ship that contained reports of their findings. One month after that the prospectors reported signs that their camp was being watched, tested. But whoever it was did not attack, despite their tight military coordination, judging by the tracks found. Tracks of humans.”

“My eldest brother is running this expedition,” Delegado said, hands tightening on the document as he read it.

“Yes,” she said. “There is no organized, coordinated military or scout group in that part of the world. It’s too far north from the Marches, too far from the concerns of the hags in Droaam, and too far west for most of the Reachers to care. And it’s not a fiend from the Wastes, it’s organized, and man-sized. Further I had an oral report from a messenger from Blood Crescent who says they’ve been watching Crescent Bay since the Lhazaar attack, and they’ve spotted no ships. That leaves cavalry.”

“You think Brogan is planning to hit the expedition and steal the dragonshards,” Delegado said, finally comprehending.

No she doesn’t, Orphan thought. It was only a hunch, but he was sure that Greoche was lying.

“All circumstantial, but yes,” Greoche said. “And enough evidence would be left of vermin attack that would confuse anyone who finds the remnants. Ask yourself just what is Brogan doing here with a force of the size that he has? He could command a great deal of coin on the front with Aundair. Only one explanation seems to fit it all.”

Delegado handed the paper back. “If I kill him, I can’t complete this quest. Oalian will not allow it to go unpunished.”

“You don’t have to kill him, you can just discredit him,” she said. “Or you can kill him once he’s outside of Greenheart, where the peace order does not hold.”

“You are talking about murder,” Orphan said.

“Self-defense,” Delegado retorted.

“Pre-emptive self-defense,” Orphan noted.

“Outside of the civilized world, there is no better kind,” the half-orc insisted.

“I wonder at this thing’s devotion to the House that you want to bring it into,” Greoche scoffed. “I suppose that if it were Cannith that were threatened it would feel differently.”

“Greoche, I don’t talk about things that I don’t know about, you can do the same,” Delegado snapped. Greoche blinked, and Orphan realized that she was realizing that she overplayed her hand.

“I’m sorry, Orphan,” she forced herself to say. “I suppose that I still haven’t accepted you into a discussion of House secrets.”

He gave her a slight bow. “It is understandable,” he said. “I would not want you to step into a discussion of the hidden teachings of the Balanced Palm.” She seemed to relax a bit at that, apparently thinking him a foolish and un-insightful construct. “But I object on both moral grounds and reasons of practicality. One, Delegado will be the first suspect should anything befall Brogan. Two, we do have a quest that must be completed quickly, even if we do not understand why. Three, we do not have the capacity to attack Brogan’s forces. I would suggest that we find another way to defuse Brogan.”

“Now you see why I like him,” Delegado said. “Okay, we’re on the move, keep Thomas hidden, we’ll be back in a few hours.” He adjusted his sword belt and flashed Orphan a humorless grin. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Orphan followed Delegado out, but when he looked back, he saw Greoche’s eyes were triumphant.

They bid Greoche’s nephew Brode goodbye, and Delegado joked with him in the orc tongue. Then they were past the flower-kept edge of the Tharashk cottage, and walking through Greenheart’s streets.

Orphan waited a bit, watching all of the animals play and hunt while their masters shopped, talked, and looked around. Greenheart had wide streets, many of them trails with plenty of grass growing on them, and the streets emptied out into a central space marked by a square of trees so tall that Orphan had to lean his head back to see the tops. Delegado stopped to haggle with a pushcart vendor about the price of roasted meat.

“Feather’s probably missing all this,” Orphan said, trying to find a way to make conversation.

“Eh, he wants some time in a closed-up space, trust me,” Delegado said. “He’ll get over his snit by sunset. I could have forced him to come with us, but a bird has to be free.”

“Right,” Orphan said, watching three owls chase each other. “I need to talk to you, Delegado.”

“You’re doing that already,” the half-orc said. He tossed the vendor some coin and took a stick.

“I need to tell you things that you may not like hearing,” Orphan said.

“Hey, relax,” Delegado said, chewing on the meat. “I shouldn’t have sprung the induction thing on you so fast, but Greoche was pulling rank. I know that you want to run a monastery. It’s fine if you say no and just want to be a hired hand.”

“Thank you,” Orphan said. “But that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What then?” Delegado said, eyeing some jugs of wine that another vendor was pushing. This vendor was a goblin wearing a ragged leather apron that was loudly declaring that his wine had been made naturally, clean of any arcane taint.

“Delegado, I think Greoche lied to us.”

“Impossible,” the half-orc said dismissively. “Hey,” he said to the goblin. “How much for a cup?”

“The great huntsman makes sport with this unworthy,” the goblin said. “He sees that this unworthy is a mere tradesman, for this unworthy has no cups.”

“Not impossible, and I think we had best think about how this impacts our quest.”

“Jugs only?” Delegado said. “I don’t want a whole jug.” To Orphan he said, “Look, you don’t get it, do you? House members do not lie to each other. And what she told me was documented.”

“Oh but that this unworthy could afford a cup, then to the great master he could sell less than a jug! Would that this unworthy could part with these fine, wonderful jugs of wine for less than a mere, single piece of gold!”

“The documents didn’t show what she said the Phiarlan told her,” Orphan pointed out. “They showed all the circumstantial things.”

“A piece of gold, are you out of your green and wrinkly mind?”

“This unworthy has no choice! The Eldeen Reaches is primarily a barter economy, thereby decreasing the buying power of pure coin, as can be expected when assets are not easily liquified!” The goblin thumped a bony hand down on a well-used book next to him. Its title said that it had something to do with economics.

“Then why aren’t you seeking goods in trade then, eh?” Delegado demanded. He turned his head to the warforged again. “I’ll say it again. House members do not lie to each other. Stop worrying.”

“This unworthy suspected that the new arrival to House Tharashk would bear more coin than trade goods,” the goblin said slyly. “Surely a single gold is not beyond a Tharashk agent?”

“I didn’t get to be a Tharashk agent by taking a sh’pash with my purse,” Delegado snorted. “Two silvers. Period.”

“It’s not just a fear,” Orphan said. “But I think we should talk about this in private.”

“Free of arcane taint!” the goblin insisted.

“I look like Ashbound to you?” Delegado said. “Three if you give it to me right now.”

“I cannot afford to sell these for that,” the goblin sighed, wavering as if weak. “The transportation costs, the price of security to fend off the Children of Winter, the tariffs, oh what shall I eat?” The goblin shook his head. “Surely a great member of Tharashk who understands the discrepancies of scale and scope can spare nine silvers?”

“Yeah, let me finish here,” Delegado said. “Look, bozo, I’ve been hunting and dealing with goblins for a while, so don’t try your sob stories with me about –”

“Are you the great Delegado?” the goblin said in a whisper.

“Uh, yes,” the half-orc replied.

“Do not, do not strike this unworthy down,” the wine-seller insisted. “Your mighty arm has reached even here! Please, please I beg of you sir, a mere seven pieces of silver, and I may escape your wrath?” A passing Warden of the Wood looked their way.

“I am not threatening you,” Delegado said. “But I am about to walk away. I want a drink, not a theatrical production. Give me a normal price.”

“He’s willing to settle for five,” Orphan said.

“How did you know that?” the goblin snapped, peering up at Iron Orphan.

“He’s so good with people,” Delegado said, counting out five silver to the goblin. The little humanoid snatched them greedily, and tossed Delegado a jug. Delegado handed it back and took a slightly bigger one that had been sitting more in the shade.

“Yes, I am, thank you,” Orphan said.

Delegado rolled his eyes, and the two of them walked away from the commotion to the edge of the clearing. The half-orc finished his meat and broke the seal on the jug. “Look, you just don’t understand Tharashk – or Brogan for that matter,” he said, starting to drink. “Hm, this stuff is pretty good.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” Orphan said. “I always have been. I think you should trust me.”

“I’ve been pretty good at reading people for some time,” Delegado said. “Especially humans and goblinoids. They’re two types of prey I’ve studied the most.”

“Prey?”

“I hunt things, Orphan. It’s what I do. I’ve spent more time studying some things than others. Most of my contracts have been humans. I can tell when they aren’t being truthful. And this breach of faith with another in the House? It’s a serious thing. Greoche is telling us the truth.” He took another drink. “You want to tell me Phiarlan is lying, maybe, but I doubt it, they get paid to give reliable information.”

“Are there Dragon Below worshippers in Tharashk?” Orphan asked.

“I told you last night that some cultural elements –”

“You evaded the question last night, you didn’t tell me anything.”

Delegado took another swig, and deliberately set the jug down. Orphan could tell the half-orc was getting angry. “Look,” he said. “You’re a warforged, and you’re brand-new to the world. You don’t know how insulting that is. I already told you last night that Dragon Below cultists aren’t – look, she’s not, she’s the administrator here. She holds the rank of Mistress in the Guild.”

“She used the term ‘newflesh.’ The naga described itself the same way.”

“This is the same naga that you had a feeling we should have mercy on? You’re not scoring points for your hunches here, Orphan.”

“She was in adulation over Thomas, didn’t you see that?”

“Half of Morgrave University would go just as goo-goo-eyed,” Delegado said dismissively. “Not everyone in Tharashk is a Gatekeeper. In fact clan Aashta is emphatically not interested in them. So Greoche is probably one of those. I’m sure living in the Reaches made her follow other druidic sects.”

“What if I’m wrong and you are right?” Orphan persisted. “Then we investigate Brogan’s activities and try to stop it without getting you detained, which means we need good intelligence. But what if I’m right and you’re wrong, and she’s trying to get you to attack Brogan? Wouldn’t we still need the same intelligence? Shouldn’t we double-check things with the Phiarlan agent and the Thuranni agent?”

“And why would she want me to attack Brogan?” Delegado demanded. “What’s her motivation?”

“I don’t know,” Orphan admitted. “But I’m being honest with you about my feelings.”

“And I’m being honest with you about my feelings. You don’t know what the galig you’re talking about.”

“I know that Tharashk grew out of the culture of the Shadow Marches, and thus both Gatekeeper and Dragon Below elements affected the House. Are you sure no one in your House is a secret cultist?”

“No, are you sure that there isn’t a secret cultist hiding under your bed?”

“I don’t sleep.”

“You should try. All that free time you have at night seems to be giving you fits.”

“Why won’t you listen to the possibility?”

“Because I know a lot more about Dragon Below cultists than you do!” Delegado said, now raising his voice. People nearby turned to look. “I grew up in the Marches, I’ve seen them. They’re all nuts. You can spot them a mile away. They’re either incredibly savage or incredibly dysfunctional. Greoche is running a major nerve center for a Dragonmarked House. You think she could do that if she’s a few trees short of an orchard?”

“I’ve studied religion,” Orphan explained. “I have long been interested in spirituality. I looked into the Dragon Below cults. While many are mad, and almost all are chaotic, there is no one way to be a cultist, and some cultists appear to be very normal people, while still acting to disrupt order.”

“This is you on your axioms versus anarchy kick again,” Delegado said, picking up his wine jug. “You are way too philosophical. So you read a book. Wonderful. I’ve lived it. I’ll rank my knowledge a little higher than yours.”

“You cannot ascribe knowledge by ranks, one knows a thing or one does not,” Orphan insisted. Behind him he heard a group of footsteps. “And I know this! Why can’t you see what I am talking about?”

“Because I know her and you don’t and if you keep bad-mouthing my House I may haul off and punch you.” He took another drink, then eyed the approaching men. “And how can we help you fine gentlemen?”

Orphan turned to see a half-dozen Wardens of the Wood, all of them with hands on their weapons. “Well,” the leader said. “Since I’m betting you’re Delegado, I need to talk to you. And since you’re disturbing the peace, I figure I’ll talk to you over at our headquarters.”

“F’test,” Delegado said. “Come on, Orphan, let’s get the procedures over and done with.”

Surrounded by Wardens, Orphan followed Delegado. He knew he was right and the half-orc was wrong, but it didn’t seem to be doing him much good.