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🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Cargo Hold
Interactions: Liana @Oso, Scratch & Val @Apex Sunburn
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 71
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“I’m about to admit something to you that’s never happened to me before. Not once, in all my years of doing this, have I ever felt bad for being good at my job.”

Ezekiel sighed. A soft and tired sound as he simply accepted that his day was only about to get more complicated. The light from the portal faded and vanished.

“Not until today. Not until you.”

His focus shifted to Liana. Watchful, silent, and heavy with disappointment, he kept his gaze locked on her. It would’ve been nice to simply help a woman with sad eyes save her family. To lift a curse and watch three people find the hope they’d thought they’d lost.

But fate had other plans, and he was here, in this spot, with someone who had led him astray because he was meant to be here.

“I’m sorry.”

Her remorse sounded genuine, but then again, so had the story she’d told him.

He said nothing as she pulled away a blanket and revealed the two beaten people who were certainly not her sickly parents. A pair bound by chains who struggled to keep up their shallow breathing. A bomb hovered between them, and dark magic pulsed between the device and the chains.

“You can probably save one of them. If you’re lucky.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked, voice barely audible and not expecting an answer. Was this merely a game of test the Aasimar for her? Force him to choose between two lives, who to save and who should perish?

“But try to free them both, and all three of you die.”

Did she expect him to believe her? She’d certainly lost all credibility now. There likely was a way to save both people chained to that bomb, but Ezekiel was not the man to solve that dilemma. He knew little about bombs, even less about the type of magic, one far different from his own, that powered the device, and one wrong move would likely end the lives of everyone on the airship.

Preventing the bomb from detonating had to be the top priority. And that thought hurt worse than the betrayal of a stranger ever could.

“I’m sorry it had to be a good man. You truly are a dying breed. But this is about something more important than good or evil. Goodbye, Ezekiel.”

“There is nothing more important. Until we meet again, Liara.” He answered as dark smoke engulfed her. There was no doubt in his statement, nor was it a threat; just a fact that he knew to be true. Ezekiel knew their paths would cross again, just as he knew there was a reason he was in the cargo hold facing a situation he had no idea how to handle. He simply felt the hands of fate directing him, and he accepted that this all meant something.

Liana vanished and left him to deal with the problem she had created.

Ezekiel reached out his hand, hovering near the device but never making contact. His eye closed as he tried to focus and get a read on the magic that powered it.

He asked the Silver Flame to protect the airship, to keep safe the lives aboard the vessel.

He asked for clarity, to better understand why he was here, what he could do.

He asked for the strength to make the right choice.

He asked for mercy, for the remorse he thought he saw in Liana to be genuine, and for her to find a better path to walk.

“Oh, hello again, mister Eyepatch!”

A familiar voice rang out, Val, the young assistant to the surgeon from earlier.

…Mister Eyepatch?

His jaw tightened, and his focus broke. His prayer was left unfinished.

The child screamed for Scratch, and perhaps the dark elf was a partial answer to his prayer. Someone who could help the situation at the very least.

“What’re you doing, Eyepatch? What happened to them? What’s going–”

The very understandable string of questions was interrupted by the man quieting the frightened child. Ezekiel realized exactly how the situation must look and slowly lowered his hand.

“You, the one Val calls Eyepatch. Listen very, very closely. I honestly don’t know what you’re doing, or what’s going on, but unless you really, really want to meet whichever Gods you believe in today, don’t touch anything. Touch those chains, or just make them twitch, and we’re all going to have a very, very bad time.”

“I am trying to determine what sort of magic powers this bomb. And praying it does not go off.” He answered while slowly turning around to face them.

“I need you to stay calm. Go up to the bridge, find the Captain. Tell him not to worry, but we have a bomb aboard.”

“I think the Captain has reason to worry.” Ezekiel added to the crew member with the pair.

“A woman asked me for help. She told me her parents were hidden here and needed a deadly curse lifted, so I followed her down her. She led me to this: a pair who certainly do not appear to be her parents, chained to a bomb. Before she vanished, she said if I were lucky, I might be able to save one of them. But that could be another lie.” He looked Scratch in the eye as he explained the situation, and admittedly, it sounded less convincing than the tale Liana had constructed.

“Not easy to say no to a pretty face with a sad story.” He admitted.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Cargo Hold
Interactions: Liana @PapaOso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 68
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

He had not expected satisfactory answers, but Liana had delivered them. A hazy picture was painted: the location of her parents, the state they were in, and the nature of the curse. Curiosity tugged at parts of her story: what had led to them crossing paths with the fortune teller, why the curse had been placed, and the circumstances revolving around the death of the fortune teller. But life rarely supplied one with every answer, and there was no need to trouble Liana further for the unabridged version of the story. It seemed she struggled to share what details she had told him.

Entirely understandable, trust was hard to offer strangers even under the best of circumstances, and requests for help were rarely unflawed. There was little surprise in hearing her and her parents had been betrayed by some fortune teller. Con artists who deal in false prophecy and leech off the desperate - they were an unsavory lot. What had transpired was a dark act, a malevolent curse that needed to be corrected.

His faith demanded action.

His oath demanded action.

His blood demanded action.

The soft glow of the portal illuminated Liana’s features. Tears lingered in the corners of her eyes, her plea lingered in his ears. It must be a terrible thing to witness, watching people you love slowly deteriorate.

Ezekiel had watched his entire nation vanish in an instant, almost certainly the result of some dark curse. It was not the slow, drawn-out wasting that Liana’s parents suffered from, but the end result was not too different - a helpless and devastating loss.

“I lost my family in The Mourning. I do not wish to see another lose theirs.“ He said with a solemn nod of his head.

There was no other choice.

Ezekiel ducked his head and stepped through the portal into the cargo hold without a second thought. What more was there to think about, besides the fragile lives of two people, whose blood had been cursed by a spiteful grifter, that teetered near death? And the chance to spare another an immeasurable amount of pain.

His footsteps echoed in the cargo hold as he walked with the confidence of a man on righteous footing. The area was off limits to passengers, but he had a purpose for being here, and that trumped any ship rules. Without delay or distraction, he headed toward the back of the room, looking only for the ventilation shaft Liana had mentioned.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Edin, Stratya, Mina, Wulfric

---

“Is that my little lamb finally growing fangs?”

Clarence smiled, speared a chunk of meat and raised his fork to Edin, then viciously bit the meat from his fork. His teeth made a snap.

“About damn time one of my sons showed some spine at the table. Public shaming? A touch dramatic—but gods, I like it.”

“Public shaming is a light punishment for such blatant disrespect.” He answered softly, almost uninterested. When the offending Duchess finally curtsied, he flashed only a satisfied smile.

Then, Clarence watched.

He ate from his plate, unbothered, each morsel savored and appreciated with a palette that found flavors that lingered beyond his grasp when not in mortal form. Taste came only from his tongue, and only the scents of food engaged his mind. Gone were the smells and flavors of emotions and magicae that constantly grabbed at his attention.

This was almost quiet. Just a fork bringing fresh experience to his tongue. Just his nose inhaling auromas that did not need analyized. Just his eyes watching the unimportant in their most decorative wears moving about as if they mattered.

But his ears. They were not at peace. The masses constantly chattered and danced around the table, vying for attention. Noise streaming from their mouths.

Wulfric corrected Alexander, a wolf snapping at a lesser who dared to step out of line. He should’ve gone for the throat; his bite wasn’t vicious enough, and the lesser still held his head up high and would later dare to snap at others at the table.

He watched Mina approach and quickly look away from him. She addressed Wulfric but not him. Clarence tilted his head. None of Callum’s memories indicated they’d had any disagreements, any reason for her to snub him. “Am I not even worth a ‘good evening,’ Lady Blackwood?” He asked, but his tone lacked the teeth he’d shown the Duchess.

Then, the knight approached. Statya. Immediately, Clarence decided he did not like her. He couldn’t pinpoint why, nor did he care to; his instincts never failed him.

“Prrince Callum, I donnae think I’ve seen yerr crrown ‘til now…looks good on you, Yerr ‘ighness.”

“Of course it does. It was made for me.” Came his polite but uninterested reply. “Some of us decided to look our best tonight. But not everyone.” He added, eyes focused on the pristine uniform for a moment before returning to his plate.

“Poor form to tend to one's stomach and neglect to thank their host first.” He commented quietly as the knight began to leave, just loud enough that she might still hear him.

Alexander, Mina, Roman, and Violet chattered, a conversation revolving around some bit of drama he was not privy to and cared little about. Until Alexander spoke, raising the tension between the group just enough that it edged on interesting.

He glanced at Wulfric. “Seems that since Alexander can’t bite back at you, he’s taken to snapping at our guests,” he commented. “Rather weak attempt at establishing dominance. Who do you think he’s trying to impress? You or one of the ladies?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Hala, Farim, Ana, Kira
Attire: Red like the other cool kids

---

“Mind numbingly. I was hoping we’d get attacked by pirates on the way just to spice things up. Alas.”

Rohit nodded his agreement; days spent on a ship were excuriatingly dull. Almost torture, really, though he’d prefer encounters with rare and deadly sea monsters and maybe a few breathtaking merefolk over pirates. Pirates had notoriously poor hygiene.

“You’ll have to make up for your absence.”

“You have my word on that.” He agreed. Now that Hala was here, things were only looking up! Then his friend left the table to introduce themselves to Milo, a wise choice as the captivating artist was easily one of the most interesting people he’d met in a long while. Rohit was sure Hala would agree, and he briefly daydreamed of them all hanging out at Milo’s gallery, discussing art and indulging in life’s pleasures.

He snapped out of it when Nahir spoke his name.

“Always an honor to be in your radiant presence.” He said, both to her and to Farim.

“To poor impulse control and pretty people.”

“My two favorite things!” He matched Ana’s enthusiasm as he raised his glass to her toast. “Given that this is the Alidasht side, the most fun is a guarantee.”

He watched the flirtatious exchange between Ana and Farim. The feast had barely begun, and already the table was sweetened with a taste of summer love. As the conversation turned to discussing some charity event, he merely nodded his head despite having no idea what they were talking about.

“A wonderful idea.” He chimed in as Ana brought up bringing some of them along to pass out food to the needy. “Why not make it a big celebration? A party for the poor! A feast, maybe not as grand as this, but a touch above modest! Outdoors, with live music, dancing, and ending with a feast, all to celebrate the people.” Rohit suggested, adding just enough to make it sound exciting, just simply handing out food had no spark to it.

“And the papers will love it.” He added, nothing wrong with a little good publicity.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

---

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Thea, Drake, Gideon, Charlotte
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”


“Lost little leprechaun?” Leo scoffed, every word of it ridiculous. “I am never lost. And, if anything, I’m the top leprechaun. Certainly the tallest leprechaun.” He grinned and straightened the collar of his jacket. If his outfit was giving leprechaun, that was a good thing at least; a creature that exuded wealth and abundance was a favorable comparison.

His attention shifted to the woman Thea pointed out. “That is not a puppy.” Leo added, then he looked at Drake. “Lord Drake, time to prove your worth. Protect my sister from her urge to pet a large wolf.” He jokingly assigned the task to Drake.

“Who thought letting a wolf into a banquet was a good idea?” The comment was mostly muttered to himself. Sure, the Alidasht royals were allowed to bring their pets around; they were royalty, after all. The woman with the wolf, however, wasn’t someone Leo recognized as important nobility, but clearly, she was worth paying attention to.

He rose from his seat when the Edwards joined the table and did the same when Ariella joined them moments later. The Duke and Duchess of Sorian, although they kept their voices low as Victoria pecked at everything their children did, it was not entirely unheard by those closest to them at the table.

“And Lord Leo, I’ve heard great things about you. What an honor to sit with you tonight.” Duke Gideon, as expected, was a shining example of poise and charm.

“The honor is entirely mine, Duke Gideon.” Leo replied with a respectful nod. Then, with his head turned so that neither the Duke nor the Duchess could see his face, Leo shot an amused look at Thea. ‘She’s worse than mother.’ He mouthed silently. His eyebrows lifted; at least Thea had extensive practice with difficult Duchesses. Seemed like she was going to need it.

He stood up again, this time as Charlotte approached the table to offer Thea a birthday gift. “It’s been a good day so far.” Leo answered, patting Lottie’s shoulder as his natural enthusiasm returned as if it had never vanished. As if he hadn’t spent the past couple of days moping around her estate.

“How are you?” He asked. “Coming to Thea’s party tonight? Guaranteed to be a great time, perfect way to end the night.” Leo watched as Thea tore through the wrapping paper.

“The very peak of fashion.” Leo said with an approving smile.

The night got even better. A new pair entered the hall, the bickering couple - or was it a truple?- from the cheese brunch. Sjan-dehk, dressed more for a military affair than a royal banquet, was a bold statement. Beside the Captain, once more was Iyen, and Leo was still unsure if the woman was a lover or a bodyguard, but both seemed possible. And Kalliope the Unhinged Hater of Cheese was carried in the sailor’s arms.

Or she had been carried until the clumsy man dropped her.

Leo chuckled. “Oh no, someone hide the cheese before that one has another tantrum.” He whispered to Lottie.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck - Sick Bay
Interactions: Liana @PapaOso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 63
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“Of course,”

Ezekiel waited. He assumed her response was her agreement to his terms: the full story. What exactly was going on with her parents and their curse. He watched with the expectation that more words would follow.

They did not. Just as she had when he’d asked for her name, the woman did not even acknowledge that a question had even been asked.

Instead, from her lips came what might’ve been a soft chant or a whispered prayer. Arcane words were sung so softly they did not echo down the empty corridor but were carried by a voice enchanting enough that they commanded his full attention.

A soft glow illuminated from her fingertip, and she traced a shape against the wall. Instead of an answer, he got a door—a door where previously there had been only a wall. It glowed as her finger had, and he wondered if the inconvenience of the golden doorway was intentional. It was too short; he’d have to duck his head. A touch too narrow for his shoulders for him to walk straight through it without pivoting to the side.

“Ma’am, before I walk through that door, I need a few answers.” His tone remained soft and calm, less of a demand and more an appeal to reason. Knowledge fosters success, and taking her distress into account, he asked the most important questions.

“Where in the cargo hold are your parents?” There was no reason to waste time looking around the cargo hold, even if she was purposefully avoiding answering his question; this was the least intrusive. He held up a gloved finger, indicating there were a couple more questions to follow.

“What sort of state are they in that keeps them oblivious to their status as stowaways?” He held up a second finger. He needed to know if her parents were perhaps unconscious and hidden in a crate. Maybe placed in some sort of state of stasis to avoid further progression of the curse. It was the most logical answer he could come up with, and something like that, any mystical interference, would need to be taken into account.

“How did they end up cursed? Do you know who placed the curse or what curse it is?” He held up a third finger and then lowered and relaxed his hand. Any details involving the curse were imperative if he were to be successful in breaking it.

“Please, any information you can share will help. If you are honest with me, I will keep anything you share between us.” Ezekiel’s words stayed gentle, an attempt to soothe and prevent the fall of tears that lingered around her eyes. “I will do all I can, but I need your help to ensure we do this right.” He added. He wished he could’ve said that he wouldn’t let them die, but it wasn’t something he could guarantee. It was cruel to hand out false hope.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck - Sick Bay
Interactions: Liana @PapaOso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 58
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

As expected, she did not like his advice.

“...Without worrying about whether the bitch who broke his arm would be punished…”

“That is an unkind word.” It was a quiet interruption. A knee-jerk reaction to language he was not fond of hearing. It was also an unnecessary interruption, words that should’ve stayed a thought, for they did not help the situation.

He did not see the similarities between the two situations. Helping a boy with a broken arm put no other passengers at risk. Ignoring protocols around potentially dangerous diseases could put others at risk. But maybe it was only the cloaked woman’s tone that was calm and practical, and beneath her demeanor was a mix of distressing emotions that prevented her from looking at her scenario rationally. It seemed the most likely explanation.

His focus lingered on her unwelcomed hand as it briefly rested against his chest.

Her hollow compliments became accusations. Words likely meant to wound or spark some type of argument. Ezekiel paid them no mind. His conscience was a matter between him, the holy Flame, and the gods.

The woman removed her hand from him as he took a small step away from her, out of her reach.

“The arm-breaker offered a full and honest account of what happened. Gave her word that she would cause no further harm on this ship. No escalation was needed.” He addressed her earlier statement and offered his view on the situation. The issue had been resolved without a need for punishment. If anything needed to be reported, then Scratch could make that call, and Ezekiel would leave the matter to the surgeon’s discretion.

“In your case, I gave you the best solution I could offer based on the sparse details you gave. I cannot take information you did not share into consideration. If this is a curse and not a disease, and your parents put no other passengers at risk, I need not report this either.” He wondered how two people could remain unaware that they were stowaways while hiding in a cargo hull. If he were to help, he would need more details than this.

“A curse is the work of evil forces. My faith demands I help with that, but I will need the full truth of what is going on. Not just the convenient parts.” He added. There was little he could do for a mysterious illness that was near the end of its course, but a curse was something he might be able to help with.

“Or you can shop around for healers.” He made no move to stop her if she chose to continue on her way.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck - Sick Bay
Interactions: Liana @PapaOso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 53
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

She did not acknowledge his question.

She neither gave a name nor offered a reason for withholding her name. There was only silence, and Ezekiel followed her anyway.

She moved like a ghost. Her feet barely touched the ground, her hand barely touched the banister, and she carried herself with a certainty beyond confidence. Her eyes held the weight that her movements did not: piercing, detached, and watchful. A gaze that lingered too long.

A collection of traits that were strange but not concerning.

His footsteps echoed down a quiet corridor. Hers made no sound. They ended up in a secluded part of the ship. Quiet enough thet you couldn’t hear the noise of other passengers. Enough mechanical sounds in the background that the stillness was comfortable and isolating.

“There are two people in the cargo hold. A man and a woman.”

She spoke so softly he had to lean in to hear. The cargo hold was off limits. The heavy security there made that very clear. The closeness was uncomfortable.

“They’re very sick. Fevers. Coughing blood. Too weak to move.”

A vague collection of concerning symptoms that was probably beyond what he could heal. Coughing blood wasn’t good. Very possibly contagious. He thought of numerous plagues that had popped up during the war. Disease that consumed a person inside and out. Fevers that burned too hot and caused blood to flee from the body. The faded and ill who spent their last moments hollow-eyed and gasping.

“They’re not on the manifest. Stowaways.”

Ezekiel’s expression shifted into disappointment but didn’t fall enough to become a frown. Stowaways. Just another type of theft. Less forgivable than what a bored child does. Not even understandable, like stealing food to survive. This airship was a luxury. There were cheaper ways to travel. He could guess what she wanted his help with.

“That’s why I haven’t gone to the ship’s medics. I’m afraid if I report them, they’ll be thrown off at the next port or left to die in a locked room. But if someone like you… someone with healing hands and no need to judge… were to help them quietly…covertly”

Her eyes found his again, she wore a look so certain that she was about to hear something he wasn’t going to say. She and her parents are criminals. Their crime was not severe enough to deserve death, but being dropped off at the next port was not so bad. Ports had medics and facilities better equipped to handle contagions. The cargo hold was going to need to be thoroughly cleaned. The crew had to know.

"Please...they are my parents.

It stung, knowing he was probably about to disappoint her.

“That is likely beyond what I can heal. It would be best to allow the ship’s medics to handle this. The consequences for stealing passage on this vessel is preferable to…allowing this illness to go untreated.” Ezekiel picked his words carefully, said them with enough weight that it was clear he thought this could be fatal if allowed to fester. From what Scratch had said earlier, he was certain they weren’t going to be tossed off ship or left to die out of spite.

“And it could be contagious. Could put other passengers at risk if this stays hidden. What I can offer is to make sure the crew treats your parent compassionately.”

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck - Sick Bay
Interactions: Liana @PapaOso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 48
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“And here they say the age of good men has come and gone...”

Although Ezekiel had not heard her approach, he was neither surprised nor unsettled by the cloaked woman’s sudden appearance. “Then they are incorrect.” His response was soft but spoken in a tone that matched hers - a statement of fact. He had met many good men, they simply did not clamor for notoriety the way evil men did. Acts of goodness required no audience, did not need to be made a spectacle, and were not done for fanfare. Instead, they were often quiet, rarely noticed, and the only reward required was the warmth they gave to the recipient.

A simple dip of his head acknowledged her words, ones that might have sounded like a compliment from another’s lips but from her sounded as dry as data that had been observed. Ezekiel returned the amulet to its proper poctet, one near his chest that buttoned closed. Too close to him for anyone to steal it without his notice. He then slid his hand back into his glove; the familiar leather was far more comfortable than the open air.

“I watched you. Not just now.”

Even as he kept his gaze fixed on the space around her, avoiding the discomfort of direct eye contact, her eyes still met his. She did flinch from it like those seduced by wickedness so often did. This earned a bit of trust, despite her admittance that she had been watching him. A weird thing to tell a stranger, but he wasn’t unaccustomed to being watched. An Aasimar was a rare encounter in any part of the world, and most beings were naturally curious.

He, too, occasionally liked to people-watch, but he doubted she was here to tell him about a rather dull hobby. Entirely comfortable with silence, he simply waited for her to speak whatever it was that was on her mind. Her words were carefully chosen - she spoke with purpose.

“I have a task. A sensitive one. And I find myself in need of someone… like you.”

“And I find myself with time to spare.” He answered in a warm tone. Being asked to help brought him comfort and made him feel useful. It was the next best thing to feeling at home. “Lead the way.” He added, and followed the woman without hesitation.

“I am Ezekiel. And you are?” He asked as they walked.