Chapter II

Chapter II

Sar, Sypheros 21st, 998YK

As the clock chimed midnight, the carriage started to move forward, and Sasolin felt her eyelids begin to get heavy. They’d been up for 18 hours at this point, and her body was crying out for rest.

However, she doubted that she’d be able to sleep easy, sharing a compartment with 4 other people. Rust was winding up Tu, having snatched their notebook where they came up with new personas.

Rust, who towered over almost everyone, was dangling it above Tu’s head. To try and reach, Tu became Douglas again, and when Douglas couldn’t reach, became Lia, an aereni elf well over 6 feet tall. Lia snatched the book from Rust’s three-fingered hands, and she began muttering in elvish and scribbling something down. E.C. was busy haggling with Steohan about the protection fee he was paying the crew (E.C. was always of the attitude that no-one should ever work for free).

Sasolin watched the chaos and settled. She would take a short nap, she thought, even though I probably won’t get any rest. My body just needs to shut off a bit. I’ll just close my eyes, and…

She was drifted off before she finished her thought.

When she dreamed, she dreamed of the sky, endless and blue. She dreamt of flying up among the clouds, circling the ring of dragonshards, flying around the moons and back. As she flew, she twirled, and every time she twirled, she got faster; soon she was circling around Eberron as fast as one of the moons might. She saw all the continents, and she thought she could even make out the cities. She saw the gigantic cloud that covered a portion of Khorviare, and the small holes it had in it betrayed the barren desert that lay beneath it. The volcanos of Xen’drik spewed their terrible smoke into the clouds, swirling as the planet rotated in place. At the pole, the wayfinder tundra, these remarkable lights appeared as night fell, wonderful blues and greens that must only have been the work of magic. And round and round she flew as she slept, unaware that she was drooling ever so slightly.

~

The next thing she knew Sasolin was being shaken awake, three thick fingers forming a strong grip on each arm. As she lazily opened her eyes, she almost screamed. She forgot it most of the time, but warforged faces really do look like skulls.

“Quick!” Rust told her, the shock on her face going over their head. “You need to see this!”

Sasolin got to her feet as quickly as she could, wiping off drool from her shoulder. She was going to have to get E.C. or Tu to prestidigitate the coat later. Sometimes she wished she was as adept at magic as those two, but she never had the time to sit down and properly study it as J.D. did, nor have the innate skill that Tu had. They had talent, she reasoned, and she would never be as able as them.

She glanced out the window. It was still dark, but at least the sun was beginning to rise. That made it, what, 5, 5:30? Something like that. Far to early for it to be humane to wake people up. That should be a war crime, to wake people this early. There was Steohan, sleeping. How peaceful he was like this. She hoped he would never wake up.

She realised that she was distracted. A distracted captain was an ineffective captain, she chided herself. She shook the runaway thoughts from her head, forcing herself to focus, just as she had done in the army, and followed Rust out the room.

A few carriages down, she discovered what had been so important as to wake her. She saw E.C. and Tu, who was wearing their religious persona, an old Vassal priest by the name of Winston. Winston was bent over, and when she reached them, she saw the reason why. A young red-haired woman, a khoravar, lay still on the ground, eyes lying open. She was wearing a deep blue glamerweave dress, the kind that had small clouds float through it, like a fairy tale. As Winston finished a prayer against the Keeper, he closed the young girl’s eyelids, sending her to the endless sleep of Dolurrh. What Sasolin assumed was the train conductor stood over the young girl too. He had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. His mark of passage, on the back of his hand, glowed with an anxious purple.

“This is really bad. This is really, really bad.” The conductor began muttering to himself. He began pacing and chewing his lip. E.C. shot Sasolin a glance, and hiked up the girls’ dress a bit, revealing a mark of storm on her calf. The conductor continued to pace. “This is really, really, really bad.”

Sasolin stepped forward. “Look, whatever’s happened here, I’m sure we can get the appropriate authorities involved at the next stop. These things happen. I’m sure it won’t reflect on you.”

The conductor stopped and slumped against the carriage wall. “No, you don’t get it. That woman is an important Lyrandar heir. She was on this train transporting documents. Airship production trade secrets, and of the like. The authorities can’t do anything now, this is a matter for the 12. And they’d kill me if I stopped in Droaam while those documents were missing. Could you imagine the power the daughters would wield?”

E.C. rolled his eyes. “So, there’s a murderer, and we’re stuck in this train until we reach the Marches? That’s a brilliant way to get the rest of us killed.”

Sasolin considered the situation a second. “However, it’s not like the murderer can just jump off at any point. They need to wait until the carriages stop too.” She turned to Tu, who had reverted to their pale face with their big, round eyes. “This is a great opportunity to find the murderer ourselves. Think of the reward that must be on this guy’s head.”

Tu nodded, their face darkening and elongating, as they pulled a pipe and deerstalker from the bag that hung from their shoulder. They spoke with an Aundarian accent, “Fret not, all, as Sherloque is on the case!”

Sasolin shook her head. “I hope you don’t mind, Tu, but I have something else in mind. Do you think you could disguise yourself as the girl?”

Tu stopped, and began to shapeshift again, this time into the girl that lay on the ground. The girl now wore a disappointed expression, but was otherwise a spitting image.

E.C. walked over to the conductor. “As a greater marked heir of House Sivis,” the gnome began, “I hope I’m not stepping on your toes by getting involved. But as you can see,” he gestured to the rest of the crew, as Rust began poking the deceased, “we have a particular set of skills that may be of use. Rust, knock that off. If you let us investigate, I’m sure we can find the one responsible, and divert any blame that might wrongfully be directed to you.”

The conductor glanced at them all, evidently worried but out of options. “If you’re going to pretend to be her,” he informed, “You should get that dress on as well. See if you can get it off before rigor mortis sets in.”

Sasolin nodded to Tu. “Go into that room there, and be discreet. We don’t want to disrespect the dead.” She then watched a copy of the dead girl drag herself into the compartment and close the blinds. It was never a normal day working with this lot.

E.C. nodded to himself, saying, “If I can get some information on her, then I can probably draw up some papers to get us past the border checks. It won’t be easy, but -”

The conductor began rummaging in his pockets, and promptly presented a set of ruffled, official-looking documents. “I found these on her,” he told E.C. “Will they help?”

“Give those here, you dolt.” E.C had to jump a little bit to reach the conductor’s hand, but was able to snatch them out of his grasp. Flicking through them, he nodded to himself. “Yes, these will work.”

At which point, Tu emerged from the compartment wearing the dress. “You know, it’s not as comfy as it looks.” She pulled at the sides, in a pleading effort to the dress to give her more breathing room.

Tu’s notebook was still in her hand, but she had evidently elected to leave the bag behind with the body.

Sasolin retorted, “You know, you can just make yourself slimmer.” She sometimes envied the changeling skill to, well, change. Sometimes it would be easier if she didn’t leave massive dents every time her horns met with the top of a doorframe.

The changeling gave her an incredulous look. “What, and betray the part I’m playing? I didn’t train for years with House Phiarlan’s Entertainers and Artisans Guild to give up method acting when it gets difficult.” The girl held her nose up high. “I put work into all my characters. It’s a pleasure to encounter a character that needs more work than most.”

Sasolin barely supressed an eyeroll. Rust did not try to supress theirs. “For Sovereign’s sake,” the massive forged exclaimed. “This is already going to be hard enough as it is. You’re not wearing a persona; you’re being a person. A person with memories and a life and connections with people that you have no idea about, let alone if you need to bluff your way out of using that dragonmark on you.” Rust put their face in their three-fingered hand. “Let’s not make it harder than it needs to be.”

Tu, wearing the face of the young woman, looked back and forth between the pair, and relented. Sasolin watched as the changeling exhaled and relaxed her shoulders. E.C. stepped forward, finished examining the papers.

“These papers, and that face, belonged to a Solloene d’Lyrandar, 25 years of age, and a vital part of the Lyrandar enclave from Sharn. Give me your hand.”

Tu held out her left hand, and J.D. pressed it betwixt his own, muttering an incantation in gnomish. When he released her, the House Sivis insignia was left behind. Slowly, it faded back into her skin, becoming unseen.

E.C. shrugged. “That which can be copied, can be copied. If there’s more than one changeling on this rail, we need to make sure you’re you. That arcane mark should be invisible until I touch and will it not to be. Just a precaution.”

Tu read through the documents. “What the conductor said seems to be true, that she was in charge of transporting important documents to the enclave in Zarash’ak. It appears that House Tharashk is looking to build up their dragonshard transportation.”

Sasolin glanced at the conductor. “Which House Orien would like to have a monopoly on.”

The conductor nodded. “Which is why I need you to find whoever did this, to prove that I didn’t do this. This could start a war within the 12. I don’t think any of us want that.”

Sasolin turned to her crew. They had served her well in the few years, always loyal, always steadfast. The most capable that anyone could ask for. “Alright, here’s the gameplan. E.C., you stay with the conductor outside this carriage. Make sure no-one knows what we’re dealing with, until we’ve figured out who we’re dealing with. Tu-”

“Solloene.” The changeling corrected.

“-Solloene, whatever, you stay with the kid. Do your magicy thingy-”

Solloene raised her eyebrow at Sasolin. “Magicy thingy?”

Sasolin reasserted. “Yes, magicy thingy.”

“You mean the arcane energies that I generate with my fine craft?”

Sasolin relented. “Sure, yes, arcane-craft-magicy thingy and make sure he doesn’t wake up for another few hours. When the breakfast cart opens, you are to travel there, and take Rust as a bodyguard. As for me,” she paused, taking a breath, “I’m off to find a killer.”