The Chronicles of Eberron: Chapter 7

Lia and Durin’s footsteps make a steady pounding against the dirt road in which they walk. Lia’s yellow cloak flows gently against her white mantle bearing the marks of her home monastery, Tashalatora. She reaches down steadily and pats her satchel containing the artifacts and treasures they received from the temple that almost took their lives.

Durin trails a few paces behind Lia. His thoughts are flooded with regret of why he ever decided to take this journey with this blasted monk. “Sul could do it, “he mumbles underneath his breath, just quiet enough not to reach his monk companion’s keen ears. Durin had been a rival of Sul ever since childhood, for Durin rivaled his adept ability with his dragonmark. When he heard word that Sul had fallen in battle, Durin quickly set out to find the cause and place of his death. Then he discovered that Sul had been traveling with Lia. This gave Durin the perfect opportunity to prove himself and complete a journey with the strange psionic character, something his rival could not do, but it has turned out harder than he expected. However, he has noticed that Lia doesn’t seem to struggle in almost any fight, her demeanor seems calm, and her combat is fluid and under control. He thinks that maybe there is more to learn from this journey other than simply being better than Sul.

Durin’s thoughts are interrupted as Lia suddenly stops. “What is it?” Durin asks, with a hint of anxiety.

“We’re not completely alone.” As Lia says this, an illusion before them melts away, revealing a battalion of armed men and a woman with a red symbol representing a drop of blood on her garments. Durin immediately recognizes the soldiers as from the Emerald Claw.

“Find it and leave none alive. No need to be nice” The Emerald claw soldiers raise their crossbows while the female speaker steps back, fumbling for something in her pocket.

The Emerald Claw soldiers release the bolts from their crossbows, all aimed at Lia. However, the monk is not so easily struck down; she concentrates her psionic energies, her manipulation of them perfect in every way. Just before the bolts strike her, a tangible force of invisible armor envelopes her, a power known as inertial armor. Each bolt strike Lia dead on, but each and every one of them also fail the pierce the psionic barrier. The bolts fall to the ground broken. The Emerald Claw soldiers stare at Lia in astonishment, almost like they forgot that they are fighting, but one of them breaks the moment of pause by unsheathing his longsword, each other soldier in turn follows his course of action.

“We don’t ever get a break do we?” says Durin as he takes out a halberd he found while searching the temple.

The soldiers all charge Lia and Durin, brandishing their weapons. Lia responds with a countercharge which she runs directly through the line of men to the women behind them. The guards, other than the one Lia plowed through, ignore the monk and lead their assault on what seems to be the easier target, Durin.

Lia stands before the strange women, her psionic armor radiating with energy. “What do you want from us? We have nothing that concerns you.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You possess the three treasures of the temple. They are crucial in our plan that will unfold, “the woman says with a slight smile.

“We don’t have any thing of the kind! And even if we did, there is no way you or your lackeys could take them from us.”

“Really now? Your partner seems to be having trouble with the eleven soldiers you left him to fight on his own. I better leave you to help him. “The lady pulls a small gem from her pocket, and on activation, it starts to shimmer. “I will be seeing you around. Maybe.” The gem shines even brighter and the lady is consumed in a flash of light before completely disappearing.

Lia growls to herself and circles around to help Durin. Durin seems to be holding his own well. Against the eleven combatants, he keeps his distance with the length of his halberd, and he takes great caution to not let any of his enemies behind him, for fear of being flanked.

“Hey Durin, try and keep your footing,” Lia warns.

“What are you—“Durin is cut short as the earth beneath him starts to shake. Lia has planted her foot solidly against the ground and let out a psionic seismic shock of energy. The purple field travels through the ground and knocks every one of the unaware guards off their feet. Durin is barely able to keep his footing, but he quickly takes advantage of his prone aggressors. He brings his halberd high and plants it into three consecutive guards who are unable to defend themselves. Lia in turn, stomps on a guards head, caving it in, and kicks another one’s in.

The remaining six guards are able to get to their feet before Lia and Durin can get to them. The guards stand trembling and two drop their weapons and flee. The other four guards stand firm, but Lia can see the fear in their faces.

“I would turn around like your friends or you will meet the same fate as your comrades, “she says pointing to a guard with a caved in skull.

The guards, not able to muster the courage to fight, break out into a sprint in the opposite direction of the dangerous duo.

Lia and Durin relax and the monk’s psionic armor dissipates.

“These artifacts are worth more than they seem. That lady said something about three artifacts. Could all three of them together unlock some sort of power?” questions Durin.

“I don’t know, but I doubt that group is the only ones after these treasures. We must keep our guard up”

“Very true. Let’s get these artifacts to Sur’kil for examination as soon as possible.”

The party takes a couple steps forward and a nagging itch underneath their skin suddenly flares up into a dull burning sensation. Lia looks down at her hand and is overwhelmed by a sudden pulse of light that fades away as quickly as it came. On the back of Lia's hand a dragonmark seems to twist and writhe as its colors catch the light. The shape of the mark is unlike an other dragonmark Lia has seen. Durin gances down at his dragonmark and notices that the lines seem to shift and pulse in a way not seen since the mark first manifested. Though his mark is still recognizable, he is sure that he can see sections within it where its lines and colors have twisted and expanded.

The fact that Lia has acquired her mark spontaneously does not worry her as much as having one at all. She is a changeling, a race not part of the dragonmarked races, and this means that she should not be able to bear a dragonmark. She knows that some great power is the cause of this, one that has gone against the very laws of existence.