Act I: The Beauty...

[Ghal Marak]

Gonk

Spoiler

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Will -(1d20+2)[17] I'm not even going to attempt the knowledge checks.

[Miraqariftsky]

Thirteenth hour of the First of Barrakas, 999 YK.
A sunny day at the Airship Docks on Overlook...

Captain Dira d'Lyrandar's emerald eyes twitch at the seemingly utter shock of her assigned clients. Her breathing comes in slow, shallow rasps as she turns about and drags her feet through across the shard-strewn deck.

Broken bits of glass grind into the deck's timber's as she stomps through to the Goshawk's railing. Letting loose a wild, bereaved scream, she kicks at one of the masts that holds the ring of bound fire to the airship, making the very vessel groan in response.

Turning on her heel and locking her dread gaze with that of Saera, the captain's right hand reaches out toward her, twitches into a claw and then curls into a fist. Shaking with rage and grief, she draws a breath for yet another blast of ranting when suddenly Pawn's loud and deliberate strides towards Travis' remains disrupts her.

An otherworldly music of tinkling and of shrieking tones slowly arises from thin air. Those on that tower's top feel it in their bones, in the very depths of their souls, like the caress of clammy fingers on a frigid night or the feel of frost in a breaking blizzard for those not forged of flesh...

The Cyran warforged's heavy feet of stone and steel thud heavily on the timbers of the deck as he walks towards the ruins of the How Bad Can It Get?. His three-fingered hand reaches down and plucks the black gem that is all that remains of the once valiant Travis and then puts it into his essence node...

Meanwhile, jarred by the footfalls, the sane sister of Shivakri pokes her head out of the cabin and then climbs out, bowing to everybody over folded hands. Speaking in a measured voice, she says, "I give you all my utmost gratitude. May Il-Yannah ever shine upon you. Your losses are unfortunate and tragic but as you have clearly seen, my sister's affliction is a locus for the energies of agents of the Dreaming Dark. Time runs..."

WHAP!

Suddenly, the grieving captain's fist lashes out and connects with the raven-haired kalashtar's jaw, sending her sprawling. "Yeah?! Well why don't we just kill her and save the world some trouble?"

Her mask of calm remaining unbroken despite the broken and bleeding lip, she replies as she stands and dusts herself off, "Would you do the daemons of dreams a favour by making solid their pathway into the waking world? It said that death is but a beginning... if Shivakri dies, she may very well become a bridge for the Quori onto Eberron, merging this world with the very embodiment of nightmare. As it is, the manifestations are as yet limited..."

And then, her eyes flash a brilliant green and her hands begin to glow with a radiant power. Coldly, she states, "Your warforged has become... infected by the shard now in its chest. It must be purified..."

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Gonk, Aeril, and Saera passed their Will saves and... ahem.
PMs have been sent to The Snark and kamikasei.

[Ghal Marak]

Gonk

Gonk wearily stood up, his plating creaking. "Humph." He walked over to stand next to the captain, and glared at Shivakri's sister*. "Huh? NO, no kill 'forge."



((*For the life of me I cannot remember her name.))