The Silver Sphinx

 

“Who is the center of the multiverse? Me. You. Each of us.”

Factol Darius

 

 

Third Lower Day of Mortis, 126 HR

Dilae was on her way to the Hall of Speakers together with Bria, the spokeswoman of the Free League. They wanted to meet with the other factols and the remaining Chosen of their group to decide who should accompany Sarin to the fateful kiss. The kiss that Dilae had been absolutely certain Sarin would never agree to. As a member of the Free League, she had to admit to not having a particularly high opinion of the Hardheads due to their constant friction with the Harmonium. Nevertheless, she shared the view of most of Sigil's inhabitants that Sarin was a man with a certain sense of honor. Even if one did not agree with his philosophy or rejected his convictions, he enjoyed a reputation in the City of Doors for being neither corrupt nor fanatic. Dilae had therefore assumed that Sarin would try to free the prisoners. But kiss the mistress of Broken Reach? Never, she would have said. She would have staked her life on it that the factol of the Harmonium would never agree to such an outrageous demand. But then Mallin and Hashkar had returned from the meeting in the Great Gymnasium and reported that Sarin would do just that. Dilae had been deeply astonished - and, despite her relief, also a little concerned. Sarin was married and had nine children. Not only did this kiss jeopardize his position as factol and his status as a paladin, but his family could also suffer as a result. The factol of the Harmonium had therefore thoroughly risen in her esteem, and Bria had probably felt the same way.

Once it was clear that, besides the other Chosen, Sarin would be taking his wife Faith and the factols Ambar, Terrance and Mallin with him, there was one place left, and it had to be decided who would take it. On their way to the Hall of Speakers, where they planned to discuss it, Dilae and Bria stopped at Yelmalis' apartment and picked up the monodrone F-45. The air genasi had left his familiar in Sigil for good reason. Taking a modron to the Abyss would have been downright irresponsible. But although it always insisted it had no feelings, Dilae was sure that F-45 was worried about its master. So she wanted to take it to the meeting so it could see that everything was being done to free Yelmalis, Garush and Lereia - and also so it wouldn't be alone the whole time with nothing to do but assort all the wizard's books … again. So the spherical monodrone now scurried between the two women as they approached the Hall of Speakers.

Bria was dressed in simple, practical clothes, as usual, and wore her wavy, reddish-brown hair loose over her shoulders. For someone in a leadership role, she was a surprisingly calm and quiet woman. Dilae knew that she preferred to inspire others rather than lead them, and let everyone do their own thing as long as they didn't harm anyone else. She usually only abandoned her reserve when she performed as a bard, mostly at the Red Lion Inn. Then there was a fire in her demeanor that she otherwise only showed in one other situation: when she spoke to her people and explained the injustices of the faction system. Dilae had always admired Bria for her commitment and shared her convictions. The fact that they were now working so closely with the very factions they had so often criticized was not without a certain irony, as both women were aware. But the mysterious Ring Prophecy and the special situation of their friends seemed to leave them little choice at the moment.

After a while, they reached the Hall of Speakers. The faction headquarters of the Signers was an oval, dome-shaped building made of bluish marble. Atop of it, an approximately hundred-foot-high spire of gold and brass clearly indicated where the Council of Factions gathered, where the laws of Sigil were discussed and decided. As a light drizzle began to fall, Dilae, Bria and F-45 made their way to the covered arcade that surrounded the Hall of Speakers. It offered shelter from Sigil's often unpredictable weather and led directly to the entrance of the hall. A colorful crowd bustled beneath the arcades, numerous inhabitants of Sigil who were either on their way to the Hall of Speakers or simply seeking shelter from the rain. Dilae noticed a githzerai standing silently by one of the columns, grimly watching an illithid float past. Here in the City of Doors, they were both allowed to stay and had to accept each other without resorting to violence. But that didn't mean that all hostilities had been resolved. Many conflicts were simply carried out more covertly. A little further on, a tiefling with green hair was trying to sell a book about the joys of chaos to an unsettled quadrone. Dilae smiled, but pulled F-45 protectively behind her, just in case the overzealous tiefling got the idea that Yelmalis' familiar might be a potential customer. The large gate of the faction headquarters, made of ebony and star silver, stood open, as it usually did between the First and Last Light.

When they entered, they found themselves in the spacious entrance hall along with many other residents. It was decorated with statues of former Signer factols, and a huge compass slowly rotated above them on the ceiling. The symbols of all the official factions, some of the more influential sects and the most important guilds of Sigil were depicted on it, and the needle moved steadily from one to the next. Tarik had once explained that this was meant to symbolize that all interests and philosophies were allowed to be heard in the Hall of Speakers. At the time, Dilae had of course been unable to refrain from pointing out that the symbol of the Free League was not depicted on the compass. It would be, if the League could bring itself to appoint a factol, the tiefling had replied with a laugh. Never, Dilae had retorted, laughing just as heartily. She sighed softly. Those had been happier times. In the center of the entrance hall, a kenku was trying to imitate the voice of Factol Darius, but a grumpy dwarf growled at her to give it a miss. In another corner, an argument between two minotaurs over the correct interpretation of a legal text seemed to have escalated, culminating in loud snorting and hoof stomping. Other visitors tried to calm the two wranglers, but the minotaurs were too heated to listen. Dilae exchanged a quick glance with Bria and couldn't help but smile. Same old in the City of Doors.

From the entrance hall, the two women and the monodrone turned into a wide corridor. On the walls hung paintings and tapestries depicting various famous debates and speeches that had taken place in the Signers' headquarters. Bria approached one of the doors leading off the long hallway with determination, knocked and then opened it quietly. As they entered, Dilae recognized their hostess, Factol Darius, who was already present. She had brown skin and gray eyes, but her hair was hidden under a headdress decorated with a fine veil. Dilae could not remember ever seeing the Signer's factol without it. Darius nodded to the three of them in a friendly manner as they entered. She did not have the energetic or attention-grabbing charisma that was characteristic of many other factols, but rather a gentle, less focused demeanor. Nevertheless, she always managed to hold the attention of others. Something in the fleeting moments of steadiness in her gaze and in the deliberate grace of her movements commanded respect. During previous meetings, Dilae had noticed that Darius was less egocentric than many members of her faction. Her main goal seemed to be a noble one: to promote the tolerance of the Sign of One for the greatest possible diversity in Sigil's society while improving the empathic abilities of the faction members. This was probably why Bria, out of all the factols in their small alliance, got along best with Darius.

 

 

The two women greeted each other warmly, and Dilae curtsied politely before nodding to Tarik, who was sitting next to his factol. He was dressed in light, bright robes in the Vedic style of his homeland Tharpura, and his red eyes showed concern and tension. Nevertheless, he smiled happily at Dilae when she entered. Next to Darius sat Rowan Darkwood, the factol of the Fated. He had to be between fifty and sixty years old, but Dilae often found it difficult to estimate the age of humans. In any case, his beard and shoulder-length hair had already grayed. The man who was often referred to as simply the Duke in Sigil was relatively tall and elegantly dressed in a long coat with fur trim on the collar and sleeves. Although the Fated and the Free League were politically close, there was always something about the Duke that made Dilae uncomfortable. He could be charming and charismatic - when he wanted to be. But something warned the dark elf that this man was more dangerous than he appeared. Rowan Darkwood was considered very ambitious and successful, but also brusque and undiplomatic. He had a fiery temper and seemed to care little about who he offended. Dilae had the impression that he was obsessed with success and power, a trait she neither understood nor appreciated. Next to the Duke sat Sekhemkare, not dressed in a waistcoat and frock coat that day, but in a green and red robe embroidered with intricate patterns. He greeted Bria with a bow and then nodded to Dilae. The dark elf had come to recognize the repeated darting of his forked tongue as a sign of tension.

Bria let her gaze wander briefly around the room. “We're still waiting for Mallin and Hashkar, I see?”

“As unusual as it is for the Free League to arrive before the Guvners,” Darkwood remarked amusedly. “But yes, that's how it is.”

However, they did not have to wait long, for soon there was a knock at the door – quite loud and energetic, Dilae thought. She therefore assumed that it was Mallin who had knocked.

“Come in,” Darius said with the slightest hint of amusement. Like everyone else in the room, she knew Mallin's gruff manner all too well, but hardly anyone was as good at bouncing it off as she was.

When the door was opened more vigorously than necessary, the factol of the Mercykillers entered, closely followed by his colleague from the Guvners. Mallin was very tall for an aasimar of human descent. At over six and a half feet, he towered over most humans. He was also very broad-shouldered, which was emphasized by his black armor. This and the scars that ran across his face made him a very impressive - and intimidating - sight. His hair was black with only a few gray strands, although he was certainly over fifty. The golden glow of his eyes was the only sign of his celestial heritage.

In striking contrast to Mallin's appearance was Factol Hashkar, who walked beside him. The scholar was relatively small even for a dwarf, his hair and long beard snow-white. He was dressed in a noble blue robe and seemed a little absent-minded and distracted - perhaps even more so than usual on this day. But Dilae knew that while Hashkar's appearance was rather modest, his intellect was all the more remarkable. He seemed to absorb information like a sponge, and his extraordinary knowledge in a wide variety of disciplines had quickly elevated him in the ranks of his faction over a century ago. Hashkar spent almost all of his time either reading or teaching. He often gave lectures and readings, both for members of the faction and for the general public. After the factols of the Mercykillers and Guvners had arrived, everyone took a seat around the round table in the middle of the room. Only F-45 remained standing – the design of monodrones was not particularly suited for chairs.

“So let's begin,” Darius opened the conversation. “I think everyone here is aware of the most important issues. Our esteemed colleagues Hashkar and Mallin were in the Great Gymnasium, consulting with the other group. And factol Mallin met again with Sarin last night, who informed him of the details of the meeting with Red Shroud. Now we must decide who among us, besides Mallin, should participate in this important and dangerous mission.”

“Right,” agreed Bria. “But first, I have another point to make, if I may.” She turned to Tarik, who was sitting next to Darius. “I wanted to ask if it's possible for you to contact our people in the Abyss by sending them a message through a dream?”

The tiefling nodded gently. “I can indeed reach others in their dreams, but only if they sleep long enough to have a suitable dream. Yes, and that ... seems to have been a problem so far.”

Dilae sighed. “I can well understand that they find little sleep.”

“We all can,” Bria concurred. “Still, we must hope. There are a few things they should know. Could you try to tell them, Tarik?”

“In principle, yes,” the tiefling replied. “But I'm not sure how exactly I can convey it ... if I can. I've never tried it across planes before.”

“We understand,” Darius reassured him in her own encouraging way - and with a reproachful glance at Rowan Darkwood, who had put on a less than enthusiastic expression. “For now, it's important that they know we haven't forgotten them. They should also learn what Red Shroud is up to and what purpose they serve.”

“I could probably convey that through a dream image,” Tarik said.

“Good.” Mallin nodded with satisfaction. “Let them know that they should be well rested and that there may be an attack in which they will need to use their gifts. But under no circumstances should they take any action on their own.”

Tarik looked a little overwhelmed and thought for a while, then nodded slowly. “I ... will try. Unfortunately, it's not as easy as writing a letter. Dreams work through images and metaphors, which makes everything a little more difficult. Besides, it will only work with Yelmalis or Garush. That's because I don't know Lereia well enough. I need either a close connection to a person or a very personal item to make contact through a dream.“

Tarik's explanation was clearly too long to Mallin's taste and he waved it off impatiently. ”They also need the time and place of the meeting.”

The tiefling looked at the factol of the Mercykillers like an ore merchant at the Great Bazaar would look at a customer who ordered black mithral. “Um ... this is getting very specific. Honestly, my lord ... I don't think I can convey all that information via a dream. And even if I could, I don't know whether the dreamer would understand it. I always try to explain that to Yelmalis, too. That this is not some kind of science, but something intuitive.“

Tarik looked a little desperate at the demands being put on him, and Dilae gave him a comforting look.

”Hmm, yes, intuitive ...“ Hashkar slowly stroked his white beard. ”Well, we don't want to ask for the impossible.”

“Right,” Darius agreed, giving their colleague from the Mercykillers a warning look. “Tarik is doing what he can. But some things may be beyond his capabilities.”

“All right,” Mallin grumbled. “I'm just saying what I think is important and hoping that as much as possible will reach our people.”

Tarik nodded cautiously. “As I said, I’ll try, of course. If I can reach Yelmalis or Garush, I can definitely convey something. I hope they will finally sleep down there.” He laughed briefly, but it sounded a little desperate.

“An air genasi can go about 78 hours without sleep before serious impairment sets in,” F-45 explained matter-of-factly. “For half-orcs, the figure is about 84 hours. Since Lereia is a weretigress and tigers need a lot of sleep, we can probably assume she can stay awake only 48 hours. However, master Tarik said that he would not be able to reach Lereia through a dream. The best option is therefore probably Yelmalis, and 89 hours and 32 minutes have now passed since their capture. This suggests that master Yelmalis must and will sleep very soon, or is already doing so.”

While Tarik and Darius smiled at the monodrone's remarks and Hashkar nodded approvingly, Rowan Darkwood raised his eyebrows in slight annoyance. “Why exactly did you bring the modron here?” he asked, looking at Dilae and Bria.

“But I think that was important information, my lord,” Dilae dared to object.

“I agree,” Hashkar supported her. “I'm sure Tarik will be able to reach Yelmalis through a dream and convey at least some of the information we consider important and relevant. However, so that he can concentrate on sending this dream as soon as possible, we should now turn to the second, no less urgent question: Who from this group should accompany our esteemed colleague Sarin on the dangerous mission into the realm of the naga goddess Shekinester?“

”As far as that's concerned, I think our group should be more involved,“ Bria explained. ”Especially since two of the hostages come from our ranks.”

To Dilae's surprise, it was Rowan Darkwood who shook his head defensively. “Under normal circumstances, I would also complain that everyone from the other group is allowed to participate and only two persons from ours. But since it is Factol Sarin who has to kiss the demoness, I think it's only fair. To each their own, as we say in my faction. Sarin has taken the decisional power in this matter and no one has challenged him. So I suppose he deserves it.“

Darius smiled. ”I must admit that I don't always understand your faction's philosophy right away,” she said diplomatically. “But in this case, I agree with you. So there will be one more person from this group to accompany Sarin tomorrow. Since our esteemed colleague Mallin from the circle of factols is coming along, we should also send one of the Chosen. Any objections?”

A general shaking of heads signaled that no one objected.

“Then the next question is who is best suited for the mission,” Mallin explained in his direct manner. “Tarik's psionic abilities are certainly useful, but his gift will be less effective in combat – no offense.”

“None taken,” the tiefling replied. “In fact, the gifts of Garush or Yelmalis would be better suited for combat. I care deeply about both of them, but it's a rather dangerous mission. I'm also unsure whether I would be the best choice.“

Dilae smiled warmly at him. ”Everyone has those doubts, believe me.”

She had to admit to herself that Sekhemkare didn't seem to harbor such doubts, but Mallin turned to her first.

“Dilae, your skills as a cleric and bard are certainly valuable. However, with Terrance and Lady Faith, we already have two extremely powerful priests, and with Sarin, Lady Morânia and myself, we have three paladins. And Ambar is a bard of considerable potential, even if I would never admit it to him. That leaves your gift. How do you assess it yourself? How useful would it be for the mission?“

Dilae swayed her head. ”I must admit, I'm not sure. I perceive the Music of Existence – the special melody of certain places. Through my dance, I can influence these places to a certain extent and also create illusions that become real for a certain time.”

“Hmm.” Rowan Darkwood leaned back in his chair. “That could be helpful in some situations. But can you use it quickly and effectively enough in combat?”

“That is a good and valid question, my lord,” Dilae admitted. “And I must confess, I am not sure.”

Hashkar now turned his gaze to the yuan-ti. “Sekhemkare, you have the ability to make contact with ... soul fragments, if I understand correctly. Fragments that, for whatever reason, wander around and are often old or powerful or both.”

The yuan-ti nodded leisurely, looking a little like a snake hanging from a branch and swaying back and forth. “You have described that correctly, Factol. I have already made contact with a few of these soul shreds, but I cannot say how many more there may be.”

Bria nodded, clearly interested. “And can you talk to them as you would to a living, thinking being? Or are they no longer capable of communicating in this way?”

“I can make contact with these soul shreds and connect with them,” Sekhemkare explained. “Sometimes this gives me abilities, physical or mental. Other times, I gain insights into the knowledge of that soul. But it's always different and difficult to predict and control. For example, being able to walk on water has proven very useful. And I also learned about the sword in Broken Reach from a soul shred.“

”Can you deliberately locate such a soul fragment?” Darius asked.

The yuan-ti nodded. “Among those I know, I can by now do so specifically, yes.”

“I vote for Sekhemkare to accompany me,” Mallin declared without further ado. “He can control his gift well, it is versatile and also useful in combat. Besides, he is a warlock and our arcane potential is less developed than the clerical.”

“I agree with that assessment,” said Rowan Darkwood.

Dilae was not surprised that the Duke was only too happy to send his own Chosen on the mission. But she had to admit that a lot spoke in Sekhemkare's favor. Hashkar and Darius seemed to concur, as they nodded in approval. Bria glanced briefly at Dilae, as if to be sure that she agreed with the decision. The dark elf nodded. She had confidence in Sekhemkare and his abilities.

“Good,” said Bria. “We agree as well. Sekhemkare shall accompany Factol Mallin.”

The yuan-ti's forked tongue darted out between his scaly lips. “Then I will do so. But if I may speak openly, I am not sure that cooperation between so many different factions can be successful in the long run. In this particular situation, though, it probably makes sense.”

Bria sighed. “I'm sorry to say this, but I share Sekhemkare's concerns. Even in a smaller circle, compromises are not always easy to find. But when open hostility between individual factols is added to the mix, it seems almost impossible to work together permanently.”

The bard's statement did not surprise Dilae. The Free League had often struggled to work with the Mercykillers, and now the Harmonium joined in, too. Since Delazar's factolship, tensions between the two factions had grown considerably, and even Juliana and Sarin had not been able to completely smooth the waters.

Rowan Darkwood nodded contentedly. “I am pleased to meet another realistic person. I am even certain that there will be problems in the long run.”

His remark was probably aimed more at the Sensates – his hostility towards Erin Montgomery was well known. But the Fated and the Harmonium were not exactly on friendly terms either. Dilae sighed quietly and said nothing. As much as she disagreed with the Duke in general, in this case she feared he might be right. The Signers, on the other hand, had differences with the Athar, as the splinter group The Will of the One wanted to resurrect the dead god Aoskar. Factol Darius did not support this movement led by the water genasi Prisine, but Factol Terrance was naturally less than enthusiastic about its mere existence. On the other side, Mercykillers and Sensates did not get along very well either. It was a more than difficult constellation, but the Ring Prophecy suggested that cooperation might be necessary in the future. In the present, it was definitely necessary in order to free Red Shroud's prisoners. And fortunately, everyone seemed to agree that this was the priority for now. Everything else would fall into place eventually – for better or for worse.

 

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The realm of Tharpura, where Tarik comes from, is actually based on the German role-playing game setting Das Schwarze Auge (The Dark Eye). I have integrated some of the regions of the continent of Myranor into my campaign, but moved them to the Outlands as independent realms.