Occurs on the evening of 16th day of Jasil'a'mazi 373yp

The evening begins with a meeting. But the night would turn out to be very long indeed.

At the Drunken Camel, a tavern just outside the new market, two parties come together. I am Sjer Mihan, notorious trouble maker among the established underworld of Lie'lm, and I enter the Camel to find the newly reorganized Water Blades. The Blades were hard hit by the recent activities of the Shadow Water Circle, but some of the old leaders remain. In fact, I am looking at a very familiar face, yet not one I have ever spoken to before now. Hara'eem, otherwise known as 'The Braid'. The name is one of those obvious monikers. His waist length blond braid hung down his back. Braids are often the luxury of women who keep their hair long to grace their swaying walk, or the necessity of sailors who must keep their eyes clear when the gales are blowing them around the rigging like kraken bait. The lack of a barber on board is due to the need to keep as much space available for cargo; and the lack of trust on a pitching ship for the niceties of a shave and a trim are equally obvious. No, braids are not often seen among the fighting class. The Braid, however, was every inch a warrior. His hard scarred face and easy gait marked him as dangerous. That is why we followed him instead of trying a more direct approach those many months ago when we first came to this viperous city. Perhaps 'viperous' is too harsh. 'Political' may be the word I am searching for. We tried hard to choose the path of stealth and diplomacy while carrying out L'talus's assignments. We were given the task of finding out about the Braid's activities with regards an alm's son who was getting ill. We set off TailingTheBraid to achieve our end. We botched that job as well as all the rest that followed. We were young and inexperienced and somehow the blood just splashed higher with every task. My enemies have grown in number, and my friends have not. If I am to be anything more than L'talus's summer pawn, something to be used up and sacrificed, I must turn some of these enemies into allies.

I walk over to TheBraid? and greet him formally for the first time. He doesn't return my greeting, but by the slight twinkle in his eye I can tell he is enjoying this moment. He too has been keeping score.

In the back room of the Drunken Camel, He introduces me to a scarred ex-pit fighter by the name of Saraji. They serve me a 9-year-old bottle of my own family's wine. It was a respectable year, but not a vintage one.

They look at me expectantly, as I was the one who had asked for a meeting. I begin with an apology. "Gentlemen, my youth has been a curse to us all. I apologize for the blunders and crassness that were my own attempts at delicacy and professionalism." That brought a few laughs from the room. "I am here to ask for a chance to work with you. I want to live and work in this city. It is obvious to me that I cannot continue as I have been doing.

"It took a lot of balls to set up shop in the New Market without our permission," stated Saraji.

"Yes," I replied, "action has not been my failing, communcation has. Still, you can see that I am more than just talk. I wish to open a wine shop here. I believe the new market can compete with the White Market in some of the higher end goods. I am asking you what I need to do, what amends I need to make to allow a working relationship between us to begin."

My earnestness and their own weakened position within the city convince them to give me a chance. They have their conditions, of course, two of which I expected, but one I did not.

I must get rid of Jerezal. That one was next on my list already.

I must make amends with Sira Talivar. It is interesting that she means so much to the Water Blades. But as she is one my three main antagonists in the city, it is in my interest to do so.

They wish to be the sole distributer of my families wines. I am very surprised by this demand. They are really looking at this as a business opportunity, and not just a godfather type of arrangement to the new kid. Well, we haggle for a bit, we can keep distributing where their network does not reach, and they will give us a shipping discount when they can pick up the wine by caravan and use their resources to deliver it around the Empire. In return, they will keep 50% of the profits. I think quickly and see that our profit margin is cut into, but with shipping reduced and distribution increased, our family's annual revenue stands to increase by three- to four-fold. I will make this bargain. My father may have some reservations, but I believe he will be amenable. If not, well it is only my own neck. And that is something that has been overextended for quite some time now. I need to make this work so that my neck can once more be safely withdrawn back into my jerkin. The Water Blades have been working hard to have connections to and ownership of many taverns and I believe this exposure will only increase the value of the vintage Mihan bottles. The finest bottles are only sold at the estate, and wouldn't come into the network of the Water Blades. But some things aren't worth mentioning at this juncture.

I shake hands with my new business partners and set out to fulfill my end of the bargain.

Outside, Tameer, myself, and Volorn set out for the Island where Mar'orar awaits his execution. The man, like myself, is a Chosen. He is a MysticGuide? whose companion is an owl. He came to the city asking for me. Why, I do not know. But the Silimiri have him, and anything that brings me to the attention of the Silimiri is bad.

We arrive on the island where they are holding him. It is directly across from the Island of the Shadow Mages. I guess that makes it easier for the Silimiri to keep tabs on their ancient enemies. As we approach the church building, Tameer sees a figure beckoning from an alleyway. He calls it to our attention and lets me know that this man has been noticed several times over the last two days. This is somewhat alarming considering we are about to break into a stronghold of the church. But, seeing little choice, we go to him.

We approach the cloaked figure. He is medium height and slim. Yet, I sense a wiry strength underneath his robes, perhaps from the speed of his motions, or his stance. This is no soft scribe before us. He is a serious looking man. He quickly confirms his knowledge of our intent and a willingness to participate. I sense the bitterness in him. He seems more keen on damaging the church than in our rescue attempt. I am not happy with this development, but I would rather have him beside me than loose on the streets while we go inside. The man's name is Kazan al Aza and he definitely has some unfinished business with at least one member of the Silimiri.

I look from Kazan to Tameer and sense a benefit. I am going into a volatile situation. I would rather not sacrifice Tameer, especially when he can be of better use tonight.

"Tameer," I said. "I'm going to take Kazan in your place. You go on ahead and find out what you can at the estate we learned of."

Tameer looked askance at Kazan and then back to me. It was plain he thought I either knew the man already or was suicidal. He gave me the benefit of the doubt and headed off.

I did not know Kazan al Aza, but I could sense his hatred of the Church. And I believed he did not mean me harm. I was trusting to Volorn as well. His nose told him that this was a straight forward man. I would find out soon enough how direct he could be.

As we approached the only door of the building, I asked Volorn to keep watch from across the street. I felt open to all prying eyes as we climbed the ten steps to the open doors of the only entrance. Inside there was a man kneeling in prayer before a sword. The sword was laid out in front of him pointing due South. He appeared to be holding a vigil of sorts. Around the walls where the seven alcoves, one for each of the seven paths of Chal.

Kazan moved behind the man, but I chose to visit the seventh alcove. The path of proclamation. I had many reservations about my next course of action. I didn't mind aggravating the Church. Chal was another matter.

"Chal, you came to the Milar those many years ago, and we began with great promise to gring your message to the world. But we have fallen these past years and the Empire has fallen with us. I strive to bring it back and put us once more on the path of your message. I strive to bring TheMilar back at the helm of the Empire."

I stand from my prayer and turn to view the man still at his vigil. Behind him is Kazan. There are two staircases curving down into the belly of the temple. I move around one of them heading for the door, but Kazan has a look of hatred in his eyes. Volorn believed him to be straight forward. Well, now his sword was moving straight forward toward the man's back.

The man on the floor smoothly reached out, grabbed his sword, turned, and parried. I feel we are now fully committed. It was sooner than I wanted, but perhaps that is just as well. I call Volorn to come and call upon spirit of the Milar to give myself strength and speed. Then I move toward the stuggling pair.

The Silimari warrior, for he could be nothing else, cuts once more at Kazan and then turns and gestures at me. I feel the enhanced strength flow from me.

I stand there in shock as I realize he has reached out and cancelled what I had put into being. Volorn too feels a stab of fear. But the cornered hound is for more aggressive than the threatened man. I move to flank the warrior and help out Kazan. Volorn enters the front door and I swear we are making enough noise to be heard across the water in the Shadow Assembly. My extra speed is taken from me, Kazan bleeds from 4 cuts, and Volorn's muzzle is dripping blood before the warrior finally falls. The urge to panic and run for it is great within me, but Kazan's eyes show great satisfaction. Whatever the Silimiri have done to him, it has left him with a thirst for indiscriminate revenge. I am sure he has never seen this particular individual before now. We search his body and find a brooch with the sigil of the Silimiri on it. It may be some sort of warding talisman or key so we bring it with us.

We move down the staircase and into a single large circular chamber. It looks as though the light from the upper room's crystal spires is somehow shone down here and into a large see-through floorpiece. At the four cardinal directions there are indentations in the floor. There are other wall decorations and carvings that would seem to catch the larger moon's light at various times.

From this main room there was a single corridor that lead to a door. The door had a warning on it. We were definately not welcome, but we had to press on.

A few feet past past the door we found a staircase heading down. The lack of guards was somewhat alarming. These Silimiri have proven to have ways of combating my gifts. The dead man upstairs was able to reach out somehow and remove the enhancements that I had put in place.

I decided to use the gifts of the chosen again. With Volorn, I reached in and then poured protections and enhanced speed upon most of the party. Then we tackled the staircase.

We moved down, Volorn and myself clinging to the ceiling of the spiral stonework. Then, just as we were all past the runes written on the entrance, the world turned stark white. The pain hit my eyes and heart at the same time and I fell of the ceiling and tumbled down a few steps. Volorn faired little better than myself. The crisp smell of ozone clung to the inside of my nostrils. My hands and feet were cringing in expectation of more pain. The silence was surprising, considering what had just hit us. Just one tentative step had set it off. Yet, there was no trigger, and that was no mechanical trap. The spiral staircase had lit up with lightning that crackled and burned us.

We moved down and off the stairs. Once again the gifts I had tapped were no longer in place. I decided to forego further protections as I might need to heal some of us later on.

We were left with only one direction to go. A hallway moved off into the distance. As we followed it we came directly below the chamber where the first staircase lead us. We could see up through that see-through floorpiece. This was a small circular area that at its center had a prism set into a stone. It had a multifaceted surface. Around this room there are 14 alcoves, 7 on each side and the corridor continues on the far side. It seems that light is beamed down from above through and shines into each of the 14 alcoves. Each of the alcoves had a life-sized figure carved in relief into the back of it. I could almost see the ritual as 14 people would stand, one in each alcove, and receive the blessing of the light.

About 10 feet further on we came to another small circular room that looked like the Silimiri hall of heroes. There are about 50 to 70 names inscribed here with urns holding their ashes. Here we stayed confused for a time as there was no other exit visible. After much searching and sniffing we found a trap door that lead down to a 4th level. We descended to another corridor that ran 35 feet out before us.

We went slowly, trying to ferret out the traps and pitfalls laid before us. Twice more I felt a draining like that done by the fallen Silimiri warrior. Once we came to a section of hallway where the stone was slightly darker than that before or after it. We were wary, we were careful, we were horribly cut by the whirling mass of sharp blades that whistled and cut at us as we pushed past. We were near death by the time we came out the other side. I healed us as best as I was able, but I knew we could not survive a return trip, nor even another trap. Fortunately we came to the end.

A door was facing us, a wooden door with a small iron grill set at face level. There was no longer any benefit to caution, so we went in at a run. I have never seen a more defensible church. From the entrance hall at street level to the very last cell door, this place was laid out by someone expecting a siege. There was a small space inside enclosed by ceiling to floor iron bars. Straight ahead was a large man wielding an axe. His armour looked very thick and his arms and hands had no trouble twirling the two-handed axe as if it were a small dagger. Beyond him behind the bars was a man with a crossbow. The pain of its message went right through my arm. To the right was another sectioned off part of the room with another man. Volorn's yelp told the story of another bolt. The situation felt impossible, yet we had arrived at our destination. The room was lined with cell doors and there was no other exit.

After the men were dead we found that two of the cells were occupied. In one was Maroraj, in the other a tongueless girl who looked familiar to me. She had a great resemblance to the girl who came to kill us at the Sru'haro's estate and succeeded in killing Zali'haro and Afalar.

...

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