Dramatis Personae

Thyra Entarro: Student (female human)

Valyria Entarro: Inquisitor of the Silver Flame (female human)

Yhani Eshenhali: Priestess of the Undying Court and Wandering Blades medic and second-in-command (female elf)

Ghazaan: Fighter, Wandering Blades (male hobgoblin)

Harsk: Scout, Wandering Blades (male shifter)

Havaktri: Battle psion, Wandering Blades (female kalashtar)

Irinali: Emerald Claw necromancer (female elf)

Len: Captain, Wandering Blades (female human)

Kharvin ir'Sarrin: Karrnathi Warlord and Emerald Claw operative (male human)

Rinnean: Stealth expert, Wandering Blades (male elf)

Pitar Tallano: Paladin of the Silver Flame (male half-elf)

Taras Zanthan: Professor of Mythology, Morgrave University (male human)

Prologue: In Darkness

Red-tinged sunlight streamed through the window of the tower chamber, casting its sullen glow on the opulent furnishings within. The walls were hung with tapestries and paintings, some modern, others stretching back to the days of Dhakaan or far beyond. All were sterling examples of the craftsmanship of humans and elves, orcs and goblinoids and dozens of other mortal races, and all depicted scenes of war and strife from across the millennia. They were here as proof of the influence of the room's owner, that he might acquire such things, and as constant reminders to him of the ultimate fruits of his long labors.

That owner stood in the center of the room, head bowed and hands folded before him. He was all and powerfully built, clad in rich robes of violet and gold, and he bore a more-than-passing resemblance to a human in many respects – many, but not all. His hands were attached differently to his wrists, facing opposite of how a true human's would and his head… his head was not the head of a man, but the head of a tiger.

The figure that stood in the center of the tower room was not human, nor was he of any other mortal breed. He was a demon, an ancient fiend of that kindred known as the rakshasas, and here at the heart of his stronghold in what the mortals called the Demon Wastes, not far from the ancient city of Ashtakala, he prepared the next moves in a game which had been in progress since the world was young.

The demon began to stroll languidly across the chamber, his gaze fixed on the floor beneath his feet, which was patterned with an exquisitely detailed map of the continent of Khorvaire. It was yet another example of the sterling craftsmanship that characterized the room's contents- save, that is, for a magically-blackened scar at its heart that symbolized what had once been a great nation- and small figurines were placed at various locations across it. These were the symbols of the many, many individuals who crawled across the continent like ants, who were born, lived, and died in an eyeblink while imagining themselves the center of the universe. Certain of those ants, however, were useful indeed to those who might care to make use of them. The demon who stood alone in the high chamber was one, as were his allies and rivals among the Lords of Dust. Around the edges of the map stood statues of other such forces- a regal human figure with a formless shadow hovering behind it, a cadaverous elf woman with dragon wings sprouting from her back, a warforged bedecked with jagged blades, and an androgynous humanoid too graceful to be truly of this world, wearing a smile that even the demon found disquieting. These, however, were not the chief foes. A dragon coiled in a pose of watchful relaxation, an ancient elf who was mummified and yet deathless, a formless fire- the Chamber, the Undying Court, the Silver Flame. These were the ones the demon hated, feared, and respected the most of all his enemies, and he kept their statues especially pristine, as a reminder that he must never let himself forget or underestimate such persistent foes.

His robe rustling, the demon reached the map's depiction of the land that was now called Thrane. A great work had been done their once, and would be done again. Bending down, he lifted one small figure from that land and held it in his hand for a moment, regarding it carefully before placing it down again near the city of Sharn. A small piece to be sure, yet unnoticed in the grand scheme of the world, but if events proceeded as the demon intended, it would be the falling pebble that would start an avalanche. Already orders had been given, words whispered in the right ears. It had begun.

The demon stood and straightened his robes as he faced the image of the deathless elf who stood in here for the entire might of Aerenal's undying, one of the only powers in the world whose insight into the Prophecy rivaled the demons' own. Baring his fangs in a smile, he gave a mocking bow to the statue. "Well, old friends," he said in his smooth voice that was devoid of warmth or affection, "it is your move."

I've long had a certain fondness for the Eberron DnD setting; though I've never managed to join an Eberron campaign, I followed the novel line from its first release in early '05 (almost twelve years ago now!) until a few years ago when the last novel was published, and I still follow Keith Baker's online articles about the setting and his thoughts on it. Part of what attracts me to Eberron, I think, is the fact that it is clearly evocative of the classic fantasy setting while also having its own striking identity deriving in many (though not all) aspects from the thesis of "the industrial revolution, except with magic"; too, the setting supports such a wide variety of types of stories- action or intrigue, good and evil, moral ambiguity, or a combination thereof, all have room here. Of course, I seem to be drawn to elements of the setting that are different from those that a lot of people often talk about (just looking at the setting's original races, for example, I'm much more fond of kalashtar and changelings than the seemingly more popular warforged and shifters- I'm particularly dissatisfied that the novel line petered out before it produced a kalashtar character I really liked).

About five years ago, I started an Eberron fanfic, and ended up scrapping it after two chapters or so- I simply ended up not liking where it was going, and the main character fell flat, especially since I ultimately decided her backstory was too contrived. This fic is something entirely different, drawing a variety of character concepts I'd been toying around with into a single ensemble with dynamics that I really liked. Ideally, this fic will be the first of a series, taking the characters across the world of Eberron and running afoul of the plots of various powerful groups, with the shadowy threat of the Lords of Dust hanging behind everything. I might also end up doing a smaller, Khorvaire-focused fic to contrast this globe-trotting one. But for the moment, I'd be happy to just finish this first story.

Note: I have rough game stats for my main characters (and significant supporting characters)- I'm not locking myself down terribly as to what they can do, but I did want to give myself a good grounding in their abilities (one of the other problems with my first attempt at a fic was that it suffered from a bad case of "making stuff up" in terms of character abilities). Also note that I'm using Pathfinder rules rather than a D and D edition largely because I like the degree of options it gives me for both power level and story purposes (especially for this fic, that would be the magus class and the concept of sorcerer bloodlines). It should be fairly obvious what classes my characters are intended to belong to in game terms, though I'll usually indicate it in an AN for anyone important enough for me to have actually statted them.

Thank you for reading, and wish me luck!

-MasterGhandalf