The party retreated from the alley into the main room of the Burning Dawn Chapterhouse. Siegfried handed the unconscious form of Warden Jessia over to Varien and approached Lady Harianna’s side. “Are you all right? I apologize for the dangers we found ourselves in this evening.” Lady Harianna’s cheeks went red. She smiled as she cleaned the blood off her greatsword. “Well, it certainly was an exhilarating evening.” “What do you want me to do with her?” Varien asked Siegfried, looking at the Warden closely. He frowned. He recognized her as begin part of the legal team of the Gilded Eye that had sown all sorts of accusations about their activities in and around Neverwinter. Siegfried flashed the mask he had grabbed. “She wore the mask of those assassins who attacked us in House Nidris back in Neverwinter. For all we know, she was part of that infiltration squad.” “That doesn’t answer my question, Siegfried,” Varien said. “Well, Erwen is going to murder her in about ten minutes,” Siegfried said with a sigh of resignation. “And I can’t stop him from doing that.” “And you want me to stop him?” Varien asked, eyes wide. “I give up,” Siegfried said. “I would like nothing more than to bring her to justice, but I can’t deal with Erwen when he gets like this.” “Well, I’m certainly not going to stop him, Siegfried,” Varien said. “As far as I’m concerned, she sealed her fate when she tried to interrupt justice and put us in jail.” Erwen was peeking over the windowsill from outside the chapterhouse, and smiled at Varien’s words. “Why do you want to protect this woman?” Varien asked. “I want her to stand trial at a Temple of Helm,” Siegfried said, “thus exposing the corruption of the Order of the Gilded Eye and remove them from power in Helm’s Hold. That way, Lady Harianna’s brother can be removed from that cult that now has him in their grip, and you would be free to exercise the depths of Helm’s Hold that were denied you by the zealots, and expose the greed and corruption of a city that is keeping suffering refugees outside the city gates, in violation of the decrees of the Lord Protector of Neverwinter.” “Siegfried,” Varien said patiently, “if you want her put on trial, then why are you asking me to take her anywhere? You have ten minutes. I don’t know where the temple is, and you’re running out of time here.” Siegfried sighed in absolute exhaustion. “Fine. Erwen, she’s yours. Have at it.” He expelled a breath sharply as he mentally washed his hands of the entire affair. “I suppose Helm will have to make do with this fine chap,” he said, indicating the trussed-up Gilded Eye agent sprawled on the floor near the stairway to the second floor. Siegfried cast message to Erwen. Take her, she’s yours. The other Gilded Eye agent reacted to Siegfried and Varien’s earlier exchange. “No!” he called out. “Take me instead. Put the Warden’s burdens on me.” “I would like that!” Siegfried said loudly. “I would like that very much, Gary, but the Halfling here is being unreasonable!” he indicated Erwen who was lurking by the window, glaring at Warden Jessia’s unconscious body. “So we’ll have to make do with you!” “Would you accept a martyr in Warden Jessia’s place?” Varien asked Erwen. Erwen blanched. “Erwen, this is not the woman who set your and your wolves on fire, but if you want her, take her anyway,” Siegfried said. “I’ll take that guy instead.” Erwen took a long look at the woman, and then the male Gilded Eye agent. He sighed and conjured a giant eagle. There was a flash of feathers at the window as the creature swooped down to grab Erwen in its talons. The eagle screamed and took to the air over Waterdeep. “And that, Siegfried, is how you handle Erwen,” Varien said. “You give him options until he doesn’t know what to do.” “Whoa, did you just understand me?” Siegfried said to Varien. “Now that this time concern is out of our hair, I’d like you to identify this,” Varien fished around in his pocket and came up with the shard of unholy ice. “First things first,” Siegfried. He turned to his companion. “Lady Harianna, I would like to introduce you to a Chosen Rose of Sune, Varien Aether. He was a friend of mine who was kidnapped by devils and apparently escaped Levistus’s clutches.” Lady Hawkwinter nodded towards Varien with respect. “You acquitted yourself quite well in the alleyway, Varien Aether.” Varien returned the nod. Siegfried turned his attention to the shard of ice that Varien gave him as the paladin explained where he had found it. The shard was frosty to the touch, but was holding its own in the warm temperature of the chapterhouse. “Fascinating,” he said as he cast identify on the object and coaxed forth its magical secrets. “Definitely some eldritch magic involved in this item, and is shot through with a sort of evocation magic. This is Stygian ice, or some variant thereof.” He fixed Varien with a stern look. “But the power used to create this ice is almost too strong to be studied, at least not without some protective safeguards in place. If I had to guess, it’s a variation of a Wall of Ice spell, merely a fragment of something heavy-duty. An unholy relic to be sure.” He frowned. “This is well above my skill to properly interpret, but it certainly proves to me what you were saying about your encounter with Levistus. I do, however, know somebody who is something of an expert on this sort of thing.” “Lead the way,” Varien said. Harianna looked at the shard and said, “this looks like it could have been chipped out of the Elemental Plane of Ice, but I’m not an expert.” “Well, that is an interesting wrinkle to be sure. My expert is positively disposed towards answering my queries, but I must stress that his domain is no place for a Lady,” he said. Lady Harianna snorted and fixed Siegfried with a mocking pout. “Oh dear, well then, it looks like it will be up to me to ensure these heretical zealots are brought to the Halls of Justice to be interrogated by the Order of the Gauntlet.” “Not without an escort, my Lady,” Siegfried replied. “There is a school of thought that asks the question, ‘which is more noble, to be born divine, or to overcome one’s evil nature through great effort and will?’” Lady Harianna laughed. “Philosophy, Siegfried, at three in the morning?” “What better time to talk philosophy?” Varien replied with a smile. “I don’t see any cups of espresso, though this room does look like the place where many such late-night philosophical and theological discussions are had,” Lady Harianna said, looking about at the greatroom and prodding one of the chairs with her metal-shod boot. “Well, who better to answer questions regarding the Hells than someone who escaped from the Hells?” Siegfried said. “Siegfried,” Varien said slowly with a frown. Fiendsbane rattled in its scabbard. “Why was he there in the first place?” “I can look into this and report back to you with some answers,” Siegfried said. “Or, if you think you can control your prejudices, I could introduce somebody who could answer your questions and, more importantly, was willing to save your life earlier today.” “Prejudices, Siegfried? You wound me,” Varien said. Siegfried’s expression took on a look of seriousness. “Varien, I have to ask, and please don’t take offense to this question, but it is important that you answer honestly. When you spoke to Levistus, what exactly did he offer you?” “Why do you want to know?” Varien asked. “I’ll be able to answer your question once I know he thinks you want,” Siegfried explained. “He offered me my father’s blade,” Varien said simply. Siegfried looked confused. “Your father’s blade,” he said flatly. “Yes, Abaddon, holy sword, Fire of the North,” Varien said. “That’s it?” “That’s right.” “Huh,” Siegfried said. “That’s odd. Why would he think that you wanted that?” “He would be right,” Varien said. “No,” Siegfried shook his head. “You don’t want your father’s sword, Varien.” “Go home, Siegfried, you’re drunk,” Varien said. “I wish,” Siegfried said. “Why didn’t he offer you up the necromancer bound in chains? Why would he offer you a sword for you to seek vengeance and not the target of your vengeance?” Varien remembered Levistus offering him the chance to walk the streets of Lorelei again unimpeded, an offer loaded with unspoken implications. Siegfried mulled the archfiend’s offer in his mind. “I don’t think Levistus fears you, Varien. I think he misunderstands you.” “Well, I wouldn’t claim to know the mind of an archfiend,” Varien said. “Right, then let’s find somebody who might,” Siegfried said. He turned to Lady Hawkwinter. “Lady Harianna, may I escort you to the Hall of Justice in the Castle Ward with these two heretics to face justice as well as protection?” “It would be a pleasure,” Lady Hawkwinter said. “Of course, since this was in fact an Order of the Gauntlet investigation, and you cleverly caught these traitors to the Order in an assassination attempt, your superiors will credit you with great success. You don’t even have to name me in your report to your commanders.” “I like that better than the chocolates you brought,” Lady Harianna said with a wink. “This is an evening to remember indeed.” “I think we should find the boys first,” Varien said. “You don’t think they would like to see these people brought to justice?” “I’m sure that justice can wait until the morning, but you are right,” Siegfried said. He cast sending to Bob. Found Varien, we’ll meet you at TOB after a few errands. He’s safe, Erwen is in the wind. Is Abaddon an important relic? Bob’s reply was instantaneous: Understood. Alec, Theryn, and I are at the Temple already. Abaddon is just his dad's sword as far as I know. “I’m still confused,” Siegfried said. “Why would Levistus offer you an item of religious importance rather than fulfil one of your primal, emotional needs, that is to say vengeance?” “Why do you think it has religious significance?” Varien replied. “I only said it was my father’s blade.” “I know, I’m just asking,” Siegfried said. He glanced upward as he heard the floorboards creak above him. “Perhaps we should check up on these Burning Dawn gentlemen upstairs.” Upstairs, the elf was cradling his brutalized arms as he and the Halfling basked in the healing powers of Siegfried’s healing spirit , which took the form of a Burning Dawn banner flapping boldly as if in a stiff wind. “I regret that I am only able to offer you basic first aid,” Siegfried said to the elf, bowing his head slightly. “There are, however, specialists in other forms of healing all over the city.” The elf looked crestfallen as he hugged his wounded arms to his torso. The Halfling was propped up on the bed, rocking back and forth, his eyes wide and blank, fixed on a point in the middle distance. He was muttering a mantra to himself as he rocked. “The eyes…the eyes…” Siegfried walked over to him and cast detect thoughts . “What are you on about, friend?” Siegfried was treated to a funhouse image of Warden Jessia looming over the Halfling in first-person view. Her form was exaggerated into that of a living nightmare, and Siegfried got a sensation of displaced pain wrought through the Halfling’s psyche. Jessia leaned in, asking fragments of questions in a hellishly distorted voice. “Neverember…the stone…the eyes…” Jessia spoke these words over and over, as she lowered a sharp dagger towards her captive, the blade flashing with poison. Siegfried cast encode thoughts to pull out the traumatized Halfling’s scrambled recollections of his torture session with the Warden and placed the shimmering thread of thought in a tiny bottle. “A wizard with skill in detect thoughts can interpret this copy of consciousness for the next eight hours. Might come in handy in the Gauntlet investigation to see what this victim endured at Jessia’s hands.” Lady Harianna nodded. As Siegfried turned to go, the elf cleared his throat and in a strained voice said, “W-who are you?” Siegfried bowed. “Just a concerned citizen poking his nose where it doesn’t belong.” He indicated his companion. “Varien Aether would welcome you to seek shelter at the Temple of Beauty under the protection of the Phoenix.” “What?” Varien said, perplexed. As he looked at the elf for the first time, he felt a twinge of recognition. “Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked. The elf did a double-take at the paladin as he digested Siegfried’s words. “Varien Aether? Is that you?” He squinted at the paladin. “We crossed paths in Luskan. Don’t you remember?” Varien thought for a moment, unlocking some painful memories of his time in Luskan recuperating from his ordeal in Lorelei. He recalled seeking shelter with the Order of the Burning Dawn, who he had first learned about in Ten-Towns. “Is that you, Soronil?” Varien ventured. The elf beamed and clapped his ruined hands together, wincing with the pain. “You do remember!” Varien offered Soronil a boon of healing, placing his hand on the elf’s shoulder. He remembered Soronil Noonshadow as an adventurer who passed through the chapterhouse around the same time that he did during his stay in Luskan. “What brings you to Waterdeep?” Soronil shrugged and indicated his wounds. “Hard times, Varien. Hard times indeed. The Gilded Eye was after us. They had us under surveillance, they persecuted us. It’s all there,” he said, nodding towards a writing desk covered in scraps of paper, open ledgers, and torn parchment – evidence of the Gilded Eye’s interrupted investigation. “Siegfried, check out those papers,” Varien gestured towards the paper trail. “They scattered our company, Varien,” Soronil continued. “We thought we’d be safe in Waterdeep, as word came to us that the other chapters in the Sword Coast had been shut down. But they came, all the same.” Varien knew from the warrants in the party’s possession that the chapterhouses of Neverwinter, Luskan, and Ten-Towns had been liquidated by the Order of the Gilded Eye. Siegfried handed Varien copies of Radegast’s notes appended to the warrants. “This might be helpful.” Varien knew that Soronil had been listed as “marked” by the Gilded Eye. “We’ve had our own run-in with the Order as well.” He showed Soronil the Gilded Eye warrant with his name on it. “Siegfried here is looking to put them to justice, by any means necessary.” “What?” Siegfried’s head snapped up from where he was leaning over the writing desk, taking in the paperwork with a keen investigator’s eye. “You flatter me, Varien. I have no interest in politics,” he deadpanned. “Siegfried here also lies as easily he breathes,” Varien told Soronil. “More easily, actually,” Siegfried said with a smile as he drew in a breath. Varien let Soronil read the warrant. As he read over the list of named Burning Dawn members within the document, his eyes filled with tears. “Does ‘cleansed’ mean what I think it means?” “I think we can both guess what that means,” Varien said, his mouth a grim line. Soronil’s shoulders sagged. “So many good people lost,” he murmured. “I held out as long as I could against the Gilded Eye’s torturers, but I don’t know how well Belamy here managed after I passed out,” He nodded towards the unresponsive Halfling. “He came down here in search of his sister, but I’m afraid she’s fallen into the Gilded Eye’s clutches.” “Why is the Gilded Eye so against your order?” Varien asked. “They think we truck with demons and devils,” Soronil said. “And the sad part of it is, they’re not entirely wrong.” Before Varien could react, he held up a placating forearm. “Don’t misunderstand me, it is not current practice, but our company’s history is sadly interwtined with poor decisions regarding demons. Haven’t you read our histories?” “Your company’s leaders, if I recall, were denounced,” Siegfried said. Soronil nodded. “This goes back a fair way into our organization’s lore, but when our company was still known as the Dawnbringer Company, the brothers who were at the head of our organization, Roth and Gareth Dawntreader, unwittingly entangled themselves with a creature named Belaphoss.” Varien nodded. He knew that name. Fiendsbane rattled in his scabbard. Belaphoss…not a devil but a demon, a Balor. He is part of a twisted, profane entanglement with Vashi and Lorcan, members of the Sinister Seven of Nessus. Varien drew his sword and gazed at Fiendsbane’s blade. Soronil’s eyes widened. “What are you doing, Varien?” Varien concentrated on the sword. Slowly, runes began to appear, stamped in Infernal along Fiendsbane’s blade. Yancazi. Lorcan. Vashi. Azazel. Baazka. Rimmon. Levistus. Siegfried whistled as he saw the glowing runes. “I used to be able to read all forms of writing, but sadly Mother withdrew that particular power from me since I wasn’t using it to be violent enough for her liking.” Varien indicated the rune for Levistus, which was the closest one to the blade’s hilt. “You see this? This is Levistus.” “Well, well, well, aren’t you getting big for your scabbard there, Fiendsbane!” Siegfried said. “Fiendsbane,” Varien asked his sword, “what is the nature of Belaphoss’s relationship with Vashi?” Blasphemous, his sword replied. “If it’s a demon consorting with a devil, that’s less problematic than a devil running off to marry an angel, infernally speaking,” Siegfried said. “So Belaphoss is mates with Vashi?” Varien said. Fiendsbane made a spitting sound. Soronil frowned. “I don’t really know much about that, but we’ve sworn affidavits up and down that decry the influence of Belaphoss on our organization. We’ve made the Dawntreader Brothers anathema to our company, we even changed our name! But it was all because of the search for the Spark of Kossuth that led them to destruction.” “Excuse me?” Varien said. Soronil chuckled. “I guess you didn’t read the initiation materials very closely, did you Varien? After the Dawnbringer Company was forced to disband after their explorations brought a horde of orcs down upon Waterdeep, part of our illustrious history.” “Hey, we saw your note in Tholl Sla-Houk,” Siegfried said. “What can you tell me about the Spark of Kossuth?” Varien asked. Soronil licked his lips. “Yes, Kossuth, the god of elemental fire. The Fire Lord, the Tyrant King. From the Undying Pyre where Kossuth makes his home, as the story goes, the Dawntreaders sought to track down a powerful relic of Kossuth know as his Spark. It was said to possess a shred of his divine, flaming essence, but as it turns out, the demon Belaphoss was after the same thing, and through the Balor’s manipulations, the Order of the Burning Dawn’s original purpose was lost. We flew too close to that burning spark and got burned. Playing with fire, you know. But I don’t know what we’re going to do now. Ideally, I’d like to go back to Luskan and rebuild, but with the Gilded Eye still out there I’m not sure that’s a healthy choice.” Soronil got a faraway look in his eye. “But…it was the strangest thing. The Warden wasn’t even asking us about demons.” “What was she asking about?” Varien asked. “The stone, the eyes, and Neverember,” Siegfried said. Soronil nodded, sagging as if suddenly sapped of strength. “That’s right,” he said. “Out of interest, do you know anything about that?” Siegfried asked. Varien could tell that Soronil was squirming in his seat, disturbed by the question. “Soronil,” he said sharply. Soronil steeled himself and spoke. “There’s something afoot in Waterdeep. Something strange. While we were here, we were approached by members of House Durinbold.” “House Durinbold?” Varien said. Siegfried frowned. He remembered seeing the matriarch of House Durinbold at the Challenge of the Spheres in Neverwinter, trying fruitlessly to get the attention of Mayor Soman Galt and the Lord Protector about some urgent matter. “Yes, the Lady Durinbold was making quite the scene at the Moonstone Mask in Neverwinter recently, Varien, if you remember.” He quickly took on the form of the wizened old crone wearing a threadbare gown, for Varien’s benefit. Siegfried knew that the Durinbolds were new money, one of the fortunate houses able to buy their way into Waterdhavian nobility by purchasing a noble title from a destitute house, one of Open Lord Neverember’s most controversial policies. Siegfried knew the Durinbolds were farmers by trade with delusions of being a mercenary company, horning in on the territory of houses like Hawkwinter. The Durinbolds and a handful of other families were so enobled, but after Dagult Neverember was ousted as Open Lord, his successor, Laeral Silverhand, not only put a stop to the selling of noble titles, but reversed the sale of several titles, using the city’s treasury to bring the destitute houses back to some semblance of stability. The Durinbolds had thus tasted nobility for the briefest of times, and were not a family in good standing in Waterdeep. Siegfried had grown up hearing rumours that members of these controversial houses, including that of one of his adoptive grandparents, had their reputations ruined, their businesses raided, and even on occasion, their lives threatened in a sort of back-alley war between nobles and new money that the city’s government could barely keep in check. The notion of this sort of street justice against those considered “out” left a considerable impression on the young half-orc whose adoptive branch of the Thann family tree was made of several individuals with a checkered past and less-than-pure bloodlines. Soronil continued. “House Durinbold has been hiring spies all over the city, and have made several trips back and forth between Waterdeep and Neverwinter by ship. They came to us and commissioned us to spy on Renaer Neverember, but we turned them down.” “Renny?” Siegfried said. “Well, good on you for turning the commission down. He’s a good friend of mine.” “So, the Gilded Eye came in here asking about Neverember, and what we knew. They kept asking about “Neverember’s Enigma” over and over again. And a stone? An eye? None of it made any sense. Maybe if we’d taken the job, we might know more, but we didn’t want any part of it. It does us no good to spy on the heralded son of the former Open Lord. That’s heat that we did not want to bring down. And of course Lord Neverember has his own spies in Waterdeep. I wish I could tell you more.” “Well, I might be able to pick up this burden that was unfairly laid in your lap,” Siegfried said. Soronil smiled weakly. “Well, you are as you said a concerned citizen who sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong. We stuck our noses out too far enough for my liking. I think we’ll have to go to ground again, but if Waterdeep is no safe harbour, then I don’t…” “The Temple of Beauty is a safe harbour, provided you mention Varien Aether’s name,” Siegfried said. “They will not throw you to the wolves.” Soronil turned to Varien. “Is this true?”