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"No one really knows for sure. You go there now, it's nought but mist, ruin, and 'orrid monsters. Some people think it was the planar alignment. Others say that Cyre did it to themselves, testing some kind of mass destruction magic." He shook his head. "But I'd best be off. Ship's sailing today. Good luck."

---

Hours later, Detlas found himself talking to a Warforged. He learned that after the war, they'd all been freed. What few creation forges existed outside Cyre were shuttered, and manufacturing warforged was banned in the Treaty of Thronehold. The others were all freed, and allowed to find work and pursue their lives.

"I imagine that must be something we have in common." The Warforged said in an erudite accent. "Both of us have been forged by war, with little plan for what comes next. I've chosen to apply myself to the study and construction of airships. I worked on the design for the Astral Kraken, and in that sense, I was one of the architects of your rescue, and in that sense, of a new purpose for myself."

"What do you envision for your future, Mr. Jundar?" He asked, metal face unmoving as he tilted his head inquisitively.

[Atil Intelligence 19]

Cyre and Breland had been allies, towards the end of the war. Atil had known a Captain tir'Dain. A brave soldier and clever arcaneer, one of the heroes of the Western Front. The two of them had fought a valiant defense once, holding a hill fort against a much larger enemy force. Captain tir'Dain had conjured up mists to cover a series of guerilla sorties that crippled the attacking force.

That had been some years before the end of the war, and you don't know what happened to him next. Only that he was likely stationed in Cyre at the time. But, who knows. If Detlas Jundar made it back, maybe others would, someday. If anyone could, it'd be Captain tir'Dain.

Atil sat on a comfortable leather stool at the Orien Express taphouse. It was quiet this afternoon, with only a couple of customers.

An old spinster dressed something like a train conductor sat at the bar, as well. Thalia tir'Dain. Atil learned that her husband was with the Brelish Army, and was supposed to come home by rail. She'd booked in to wait for him, but he never came. He's still listed as missing in action, and she's never been willing to leave, sliding into alcohol and dementia. In her time here, she's learned everything there is to know about the lightning rail.

A beggar came in, partway into their conversation. He managed to lay out enough copper and silver to afford a meal - a greasy hamburger topped with a thickly sliced Blackpit Sausage and a whole breaded and fried onion. It was served with about six potatoes worth of fries, and a pint of stout. The beggar quickly went to cleanse himself in the washroom and returned, looking excited for his meal. As they spoke, Atil learned that he'd been a craftsman, but his tools were stolen. He hasn't had a proper meal in weeks.

The two became fast friends. Atil had been drinking all morning, and was moved by this hunter who lacked only for a weapon, this craftsman without tools. He agreed to part with fifty galifars to get his new friend back on his feet. Choose any tool proficiency. You will have free access to tools and training for this tool in Lower Northedge, into perpetuity.

Thalia tir'Dain raised her glass, in a toast to Atil, the savior of Lower Tavick's Landing, with a joking round of applauds, but the craftsman seemed genuinely moved. Does Atil let him hug him?

Arawai is a harvest goddess, associated with fertility, plants, abundance, and the wild lands. The Sovereign of Life and Love is revered by rangers, druids, farmers, and sailors. Her brother is one of the Dark Six, the Devourer, who represents the raw destructive power of nature - hurricanes, famines, pestilence, and so on. According to legend, she was forcibly taken by her brother and made to spawn the Fury, a dreadful monster and another of the dark six, who is herself the mother of madness, extremes, vengeance, and impassioned anger. This act, known as the Schism, began the war among the sovereigns. In that context, the painting's meaning is somber: that war and suffering are inseparable from life.

Aureon is the pantheon head of the Sovereign Host. He is a god of knowledge, and writing, including both the laws of magic and the laws of society. He represents the transmission of knowledge and reason. Neither good nor evil, Aureon empowers any who would take the time to learn. The Esoteric Order of Aureon is a prominent adventuring society within the city. This painting seems to be abstract, a likely reference to a prayer to Aureon: 'As above, so below', meaning that society should seek to mimic the perfect celestial order of magic.

Olladra is the Sovereign of Feast and Fortune. She's associated with healing, luck, pride, plenty, and feasting, as well as hedonism and hedonists in general. This piece is beautiful for it's cultural authenticity, representing a little known vision of hedonism and plenty from the most barren place on Eberron.

The subject of tonight's show was religious art, celebrating the Sovereign Host. Shredder and Sormias were offered champagne on a silver platter as they considered a few paintings.

The first was a colorful expressionist piece titled 'Arawai's Fate'. It depicted a beautiful, kind, but deeply sad looking woman made from a sea of wheat.

Another, titled 'As Above', was a brightly colored piece made with magical paints in honor of Aureon, the Sovereign of Law and Lore. Light streamed from it as though a stained glass window had been hung on the wall, in a brilliant mix of colors, which seemed to flow out into the world. The imagery was arcane and abstract, but left you thoughtful, as if peace and order were a kind of knowledge you could study and learn by staring into this painting.

A third, 'Hlied', is a tribal art piece from the Uldra, a group of nomads that wander the icy pole in the far north of Eberron. Scholars believe that their goddess Hlied is an aspect of Olladra, the Sovereign of Feast and Fortune. The piece depicts a stylized whirlpool, with three stained pink watercolor triangles surrounding it, making an image like a surreal flower.

Dullahan arrived back at the Red Woman's home, a flying palace in the sky. The trio stepped from the airskiff and went inside. A great adamantium portcullis closed behind them. Walking up a long hall, they entered a vaulted chamber. A portcullis slammed behind that too. The blue woman held Dullahan's shoulders as the red woman sashayed towards a mounded hill of gold and jewels.

She turned, her dress spun, and she grew. Before Dullahan was a Red Dragon. She towered up into the room, and leaned in towards him, her head easily as large as an airskiff. The blue woman giggled, and the dragon took his head between her scaly lips, lifting it from his shoulders...

Unspeakable things were done that evening, but none brought Dullahan to any permanent harm. By morning, the dragon was done with him, but Dullahan had definitely made a friend of the blue woman, who introduced herself as Zowo Majesty. She said that she found him very entertaining, and offers him a wish.. if she can engage him for thirty days, and make him tell people what he and the Dragon did. Possibly show.

"It's a secret." The blue woman giggled back to Dullahan with sadistic warmth. "But you'll be safe. More or less."

They seemed to be leading him towards the door. He floated through the air towards it, powerless over his flight spell now. He had the genuine sense that if he squirmed to resist they'd only enjoy it more.

He could of course insist, and return his pay. He will have had a tremendous evening but he is not likely to keep his new friends, however, if he does.

Dullahan was brought up to an elaborate party. A flight spell was cast on each of the guests, including Dullahan, as he entered an airy ballroom built entirely of Irian Rosewood. A Syberis Dragonshard chandelier lit the room, it's manifold crystals floating and moving elegantly. Guests waltzed in the air, ate strange and exotic hors d'oevres, and a full orchestra played. Most of the guests here wore elaborate glammerweave costumes - some hovered in clouds, others were surrounded by an array of butterflies, others appeared to defy their own builds, seeming slimmer and more perfect than physically possible.

The Red Woman keeps him on a tight leash, though he has a chance to acquaint himself with some of them before the night is done. Roll persuasion.