The Shadow of the Throne

The fourth volume

Dead Rabbits - Bits of Mirror - Large, Well-Framed, Smashed - Monologue - Doubles

The Fourth Volume
It takes time but soon you realize that the doors leading the forge are all locked from the outside, locking behind you as you progress deeper into the keep


A band of orcs guard the doors entryway to the dungeon, each with a crudely skinned rabbit’s pelt hanging from the bolster of their spears. [local knowledge DC 10 informs you that this is the mercenary band ‘the dead rabbits’]

The man you see before you is slight, with thinning ash blonde hair and the asymmetrical arms of a sculptor. He wears a heavy leather apron and gloves, both singed in a dense patina. Over his eyes he wears an odd mask, with a glimmering square of black glass where his pupils should be

He whips off his mask, revealing skin beneath that is two shades whiter, and pale blue eyes.

can I help you?. if faisul wants a report tell him the furnace is still running. I’ll have plates poured next week

He walks over to a table laid with a rack of small dishes and begins rummaging trhough jars, after a moment he jerks his head at Landon and says

‘you my silverer?’

You stare, unsure what to say

He tosses a pinch of powder into the flame of a candle on his bench, and it bursts into a white ject that nearly reaches the ceiling. In the better light you can see a little of Arzst’s habbit of body: his clothes unwashed, his stockings undarned, and no attention paid to his hair. About the room lie plates and cups unwashed and forgotten.

[Perception 20 to notice that your party isn’t reflected in the mirror]
Across the entire back wall of the workshop is a very large mirror, showing the workshop, its tools and candles and Arzst at his table

‘Silverer, yes, Faisul’s working with one at the Miller’s Bridge site and he was supposed to send one here. Obviously you are not he.’

He returns to his work

‘Have you brought me the antimony and Egyptian blue?’

He turns away from his work, with a relaxed slouch onto the his bench he looks each of you up and down

‘you know’ he says ‘I don’t think that Faisul sent you here at all.’

‘Who did? You’re not in the assassin’s guild, they wouldn’t let me prattle on so.’ He sighs.

‘Did he tell you what you’d be destroying? If you were to find yourself at the birth of a litter of foxes, and one of the kits, have you seen kits? they’re not red as they are in adulthood, but grey. What if one kit, instead of grey was pure white, as white as snow, and its eyes the silver of mirrors? Would you kill it, for being different from the others? Would you wait for a moment, wait to see what such a creature could do?’

‘I will transform this world. The guild is a gang of fools and bullies. This glass here: I made it with nothing more than the skills the Guild gave me.’ he holds up a dark square pane just larger than a spread hand ‘and it shows the world faithfully, but it is the world of five minutes ago.’
Perception Check DC 20: His voice is out of sync with his lips, by the barest interval

‘For them I could have made Glass that couldn’t be broken with a hammer, glass through which sunlight streams every day of the year.’
He lifts a frame and sets it on the table.

‘In time all of Canus would have been transformed by glass that shows not a wobbling image of what is, but rather far away places, places lost to history, and a world yet to be.’
Perception check DC 10: His Voice Echoes Oddly
Perception Check DC 20: His voice is out of sync with his lips, by the barest interval
He reaches behind the framed pane of glass, and gazes upon what it reveals: the mans hand, but stripped of skin, flesh, and sinnew, looking like the hand of a skeleton.
‘And now I will play my new part, and change not the city but the world.’

Well I must say that I doubt we will meet again, but if we did, I shall think of you kindly as those who did not kill the silver-eyed kit!

As he raises his voice you realize he is standing a few feet behind you, and that you have been speaking all this time into a mirror, placed on a stand before the bench. Landon The illusion makes no sense as you consider it, There’s no way to sneak up behind someone with a mirror, unless, as you now realize, the standing mirror, and the mirror at the back of the workshop, don’t reflect any of you.



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