B.T.V. -- Session 11 Epilogue: A Stroll With a Friendly 'seeming' Jhereg

My dearest Airith


I am happy to report to you that, since my last letter to you, my beloved, I am much recovered from my battle with the Wolf Witch Wraiths. I believe, my darling, that my previous letters have given you some of the atmosphere of the city I currently dwell in, as well as my new companions, so I will be briefer in providing descriptions, and instead attempt to distill the essence of my adventures.


We had returned to the Coal Fires and Red Hot Pokers tavern so that I might recover from my ordeal, as well as from previous injuries sustained in what I have come to call the “Inn Battle” of the night before. I collapsed into my bed and enjoyed a reasonable slumber, awaking to pleasure that my battle wounds were healing well, but displeased by the knowledge that part of my spirit had been stripped from me.

I took Bamboo for a walk, then returned to the inn to break my fast. As I did, I spotted Finndo waving Selador into the coach that is the newest addition to the tavern’s taproom, and which serves as a private booth. I can only imagine that they had words to exchange that they did not wish me to hear, and I respected their privacy, in that I did not intrude upon their conversation, though with my exceptionally keen ears I could not help overhearing.

“I’m been very busy this morning,” Finndo began. He revealed he had somehow managed to rescue the Teckla maid Illa Kaes who had been abducted by Sadderome’s accomplices, and as well had found a necromancer, Graith se’Vanavan, to see to my needs, which I thought was generous.

Finndo had also found the owner of the Coal Fires and Red Hot Pokers who, rather than being pleased by Illa’s rescue, announced he wanted to sell the inn, pretending his reasons were political in nature. Finndo suggested he knew someone who might be a potential buyer.

He then revealed to his cousin that Easterners purchasing such a large piece of real estate in Adrilankha might be problematic (and in that, I can ensure you my beloved, his assumption was correct). He suggested using the Jhereg Feddex as a front. I offer no comment on the concept that a Jhereg might be willing to act the patsy for Easterners. However, Finndo did at least realistically estimate that Feddex’s loyalty would remain true only so long as it remained useful to the Jhereg.

In response to Selador’s questions, Finndo stated that having a place to call home might be useful, and that he could make subtle alterations to the building to make it more secure.

“It would become obvious if you fortify it,” Selador worried.

Selador responded, “Do you have so little faith in your family members?”

“One would leave such things to yourself.”

Selador corrected, “I would need your cooperation if not your actual assistance in some of this.”

He also complimented me in how I had done in battle against the wraiths. Finndo responded, “You don’t think I’d hang around with someone who isn’t useful, do you?”

Selador said he planned to investigate the three Amber-related Splinters, which he repeatedly referred to as Shards for some reason, and Finndo was pleased. He noted as well that Adrilankhans found Splinters to be useful for certain purposes, but were ignorant of their true nature as preservatives of things and people of the past. “But for the those of us who come out of time, it’s different.” A Splinter related to someone named Horace, he said, could power a fiery rod, or it could provide a link to the god. I have never heard of this god, so I imagine he must be a thing out of the past, though I am far from an authority on those who abide in the Halls of Judgement.

“What is a Splinter if not a part of a larger whole?” he asked, rather sagely in my humble opinion, my dearest.

He suggested that, based on his talks with the necromancer Graith, who seemed to have some glimmer of an idea of the nature of the Splinters, that one each related to mind, body and spirit would be needed to retrieve an individual from the past. Finndo revealed that their priority had to be the return of their relatives who had been lost in the past. “We must join our minds on this, so we know where we stand.”

They then discussed various possible family members they could attempt to bring through, including Osric and Benedict, full brothers to Finndo, and a variety of half-siblings, and their potential value to them.

Selador suggested Benedict “would be purer in our cause,” and Finndo agreed would be a sensible choice, though not the only one. He noted that Benedict’s approach would be as a general marshalling his forces, and feared his first comment on being revived would be to suggest calling upon him had been a terrible mistake. They also mentioned a sister named Fiona, seemingly a formidable sorcerer, and one called Dworkin, though their relationship to him was unclear.

Finndo observed Fiona was “the best of our generation,” and that Dworkin had been the mightiest family member. “He would soon have things running our way.”

“Perhaps,” Selador responded, his doubt hidden but yet clear.

Finndo agreed. “We will save Dworkin for a darker night.”

One of them, and I cannot recall which, mentioned something called the Outremere, which seemed to be a group or faction of some kind, and a Great Weapon known as Dantalion that was associated with it. Selador said he had long suspected Mythic was an Outremere. Finndo observed, “It is good you are learning things practically for a change, rather than simply from book learning.” He then resolved to purchase the Coal Fires and Red Hot Pokers through some front. Then they turned their attention, somewhat disturbingly, to how long the Empress Zeritha the Fourth would remain upon her throne. Finndo commented that, if her reign was to continue even decades, they could not wait for the Cycle to turn.

Selador noted, “It would only make sense we have come on the cusp of change.”

Finndo inquired if his cousin was amenable to the Cycle and how it functioned.

“It makes much sense,” Selador observed.

Finndo said the rise and fall of Emperors was not usually so well charted. (They don’t seem to understand how the Empire was established. I could inform them, but I think I will bide my time until the Empire blunts their confidence, at least a little, and they are more receptive.) Finndo, who had made at least some inquiries, said he’d learned from Calcitrant that even revolutions were scheduled as part of the Cycle, when the Teckla Republic rose to power. Returning to their discussion of which family members they should recall first, Finndo said that Caine would be useful in a nautical sense, uniting the other lands of Axildusk. He also worried that summoning someone as powerful as Fiona might attract the attention too soon of the powers of the world.

“You would lean toward Eric?” Selador asked.

“I supported him at one point, but that was difficult at times,” came the answer. “We should not leave it forever.”

Selador observed that one Random had always supported the throne of Amber, and had even held it for a time.

“It might be an effective first choice,” Finndo stated.

Selador replied, “He might bring a subtlety to our intervention.”

They were in the coach some time, and I had finished my breakfast before Selador emerged from the coach and walked over to me, while Finndo appeared to go downstairs into the inn’s cellar. Selador made no mention of what he might have talked about with his cousin, and I informed him I planned to go from the inn with three chores in mind, in order of priority: finding a necromancer or someone similar who could restore my spirit to at least some degree; obtaining ghostlight so that I might recharge my empty cartridges, a situation which left me defenceless should I encounter any more spectres; and to seek order additional pentaglobes from a glassworks I happened to know was near the Nightmarket. Interestingly, Selador, who views a lie of omission as still a lie, made no mention of Selador’s hired necromancer and, unwilling to reveal the keenness of my senses, I made to leave the tavern.

Fortunately, as I do so, I see Finndo walking toward me with what I presume is the necromancer Graith behind him. Finndo introduces him somewhat inelegantly as “Graith-something-Vadavan,” and explains he is there to restore me. Graith and I adjourn to my room, where he chides me for taking on the wraiths.

“These are the creatures of the Shroud, difficult to deal with,” and even then at a cost, he warned.

He lays out a few objects on the khlava table in my room, which seemed in some ways similar to my pentaglobes. “Spirit, eh?” he asks rhetorically after I tell him how the wraith had touched me. “I suppose anything is possible with an Easterner.” He embarks on what I deem to be an interrogation of sorts, and suspect he is trying to hypnotize me in a way. He questions my choices in careers, but in time I feel my spirit has been restored. When I ask him about payment, he tells me to bring him the next Splinter I acquire. I must remember not to mention that to Selador, and offers a long-term relationship as long as I continue to do so, and I agree. While Selador and Finndo are much enamoured of these remnants of the past, I am warier of them. If they were truly worthy, I wonder, would they not have survived as my new friends do? Selador, meanwhile, having finished his breakfast comes upstairs and adjourns to his room to study the Splinters he has received from Finndo, taken from Calcitrant’s prison, three of Amber and one of Law. While I “recover” on my bed, I seem to hear him speaking to someone who, from clues provided by Selador, was someone known as the Guardian of the Hall for Amber, who educated my friend on how to recall his other cousins.

Eventually, I would deduce after returning to the inn from errands of my own, he had summoned the one known as Random, and I will provide some detail on my impressions of him shortly. Meanwhile, I left the inn with Bamboo, who I had restored to lyorn form to his gratitude, and we walked toward the harbour, where I supposed a Leviathan hunting ship might provide me with raw ghost light to charge my cartridges. I am loathe to use this method, certain it will be expensive, but I am desperate to recharge. On the Dalmore Street bridge, I overhear two Jhereg discussing some development that had them considering changing their allegiances, which I assume means their crews. “These are not the nights we trained ourselves for,” one observed.

I came to a house and noticed a ghostlight on its roof, and followed it as it made its way to a window about 15 feet off the ground, where it stuck to a window as if unable to enter, very odd behaviour indeed. I knocked on the door to inform the owner of this, in hopes he might provide me entry to investigate, but the Draegeran who answered had no love for Easterners, and said so explicitly. He also claimed to have had enough to do with Splinters, and would tolerate no more. “I’ve I made my apologies and departed, but engraved that building in my memory.

I reached the harbour and there encountered three jovial Orcas, who took pity on my after I explained my circumstances and, admitting they were sailors on a Leviathan hunter, offered to provide me with some small surplus from their latest harvest. One took me by the elbow and guided me along to the ship.

They loved along the way at my Emitter, describing it as “the world’s smallest harpoon.”

When we arrived, one greeted their ship as, “The ugliest scow ever, but it’s always full.”

One went aboard and returned with a chest, eight by 10 by six inches, and promised me unprocessed ghostlight was inside. They demanded 150 Imperials, which I found agreeable since I had recently come into a similar amount, but before I finished counting a booming voice from behind me announced himself as “the inspector of the ports,” demanding a transaction fee. I turned to see Feddix there, and played along. But then the ship’s Captain arrived, and he was skeptical, especially given his brother was, he pretended, the harbour master.

Feddix stayed with his bluff, promoting himself to “suzerain” of the ports, though he appeared to me to be at least slightly nervous his true identify would be revealed. The Captain had little use for me as an Easterner but, finally, paid 25 Imperials to the “suzerain” before stalking off. I completed my transaction and walked away on good terms with the Orcas, strange as that might seem coming from an Eastern, and soon after Feddix rejoined me, offering me the 25 Imperials as a “rebate,” which I accepted. As we walked along, I pointed out the house with the recalcitrant owner who had had too much to do with Splinters, and I suggested we relieve him of that burden. Feddix readily agreed, saying we should wait until dark.

He also observed, “You seem to me a very resourceful Easterner,” to which I shrug, a habit I have especially observed in Lyorns. I mention to him that, on my way to the port, someone had brushed me in passing, and I had discovered my coat suddenly had acquired an additional stud. I showed it to him, and Feddix believed that Division 6 had taken an interest in tracking my whereabouts. I am mystified by what this military intelligence unit might see in my over my companions, but I decide to leave it in place for now, in that I have nothing to hide, at this moment, and removing it would only excite further attention. We then proceed to the glassworks I mentioned earlier, where I learned the cost of pentaglobes, which they had some experience in manufacturing, was 50 Imperials each or 135 for three, and having sufficient funds, I took the latter deal.

Back at the inn, Selador, having recalled Random, offers the latter aid in reclining upon the former’s bed as he recovers from what appears to be a state of deep cold.

“Where?” Random croaks.

“Axildusk. I am Selador, son of Gerard.”

“Gerard?” Random replies in seeming confusion. “Son of Gerard?”

And the Lady Majiid of Law. I am a Lord of Law by profession.”

“But your mother, she was Prince Gaynor…” Random began, but then seemed to drift away from that thought.

As he recovers, Selador questions Random’s knowledge of the Dragons, which I assume means “Noble Thoughts,” but his cousin pretends ignorance. “Let us say this,” Selador continued. “Existence is now in the Realm of Axildusk.”

The world was populated by its natives, as well as those who had come from outside its time, he explained, adding he had used Splinters to recall Random. “So we are alone in this?” Selador replied they were not, but that others from outside of time were not necessarily fighting for the same cause as the Amberites would. Then he mentioned that Finndo was already extant in Axildusk, shocking Random.

“But he died epochs ago,” Random protested.

“It was a ruse, apparently,” answered Selador.


Feddex and I arrive at the inn and encounter Finndo who mentioned that Selador had been in his room for some time, and seemed to have had some success. I then realize the table we have joined him at was in fact directly underneath his cousin’s room, and I suspect Finndo’s senses are as keen as mine, though perhaps in a different way. Finndo mentions to Feddix that, despite the Enclouding, stars had at one time existed in the sky, each representing a different world.

Feddix, prickly over an ill-advised jest I had made, forgetting my place as an Easterner, commented, “We Draegerans love the world we have.”

Finndo then countered that other worlds were there to be saved, revived once more, but that could only happen as a result of actions on Axildusk. “It is the place where the test has come home.”

“Your speak like a sorcerer,” Feddix observed, helping himself to more drink from a bottle Finndo had retrieved from the nearby bar. “I know what magic is.”

Feddix then mentioned “Black Salt Bombs,” made using Splinters and of great destructive power. The devices used decanting or a mechanism to snap a Splinter in two, creating an explosion.

Finndo adjourns from our presence and, going upstairs, bursts into Selador’s room.

“What? Random! This is a pleasant surpise,” Finndo declared, as if his name had not come up in his earlier conversation with Selador.

The last mentions that Random should be able to bring vast experience in magic and politics to bear on struggle. “Yes, I should be able to help,” Random allows. He then mentions Selador speaking of the “Guardian of the Hall,” knowledge usually reserved to those in power in Amber. Finndo salutes Selador, saying his cousin had accomplished a feat that he could not. Then he draws forth his main gauche and holding it before his face, hearing Feddix and I nearing in the hallway outside, as we made our way to my room.

“Shall we invite our friends in?” Finndo inquires, and then does so.

“Why, it’s an elf,” Random said on seeing Feddex, who appears puzzled by the term.

“It is a very bold brand of Easterner you associate with, Asher,” Feddix commented drily.

Selador comments, “When the Cycle turns, so will the view of Easterners.”

“I imagine you have reasons for believing you are correct,” Feddix responded, much as one might humour a lunatic. “I will have to curtail how much I know of your plans. Selador continues to insist to Feddix that Draegeran society was about to change due to the influence of the newcomer humans, and I’m not sure who believed him less, the Jhereg or me.

Finndo, somewhat obscurely, mentioned that “Shards and Echords” could bring back things of the past. I have heard them refer to Splinters as Shards, but I’ve no idea what Echords are. Sounds vaguely minstrel-ish to me.

Selador then reveals that the Guardian of the Halls in Amber refers to himself as “The Runestaff,” or so it claimed.

Finndo observes they should arrange a meeting between Mythic, who he called “The Dragon King,” and Random. Finndo then also mentions Taiphon, saying that the Dragon of Time had brought more than just them to Axildusk, “Among them Maldon Sax.” The humans, he acknowledged, couldn’t be expected to raise a military or other force greater than that which Draegerans can field, and with that I agree silently. He also spoke of “The Lethal,” an assassin of some kind.

“Do we know where this one is?” Random inquired.

Finndo replied he believed this one had departed Adrilankha to acclimate to Axildusk in Karion, having taken a locacobra to reach that city. His own suggestion, Finndo continued, was to look to the human kingdom of Fenanrio.

“Where we will find the greatest strength?” Random asked, which Finndo agreed to.

The modestly attractive Teckla maid Illa then came to the door, offering to turn down Selador’s bed, noting she had already done so in my chamber. She does so and then departs, but not before Feddix, who had been excused at an earlier point, returned and greeted her. Seeing the easy way the Jhereg had with the woman, Selador retained his services in helping to woo the Dzur Stig Sergeant Lyra.

Feddix pretended Selador would need a ladder or grapple to reach her, being so much taller than him, but my friend was not discouraged. Selador then makes the ill-advised choice to summon his “Entombed Treasure Room” in front of the Jhereg, and fetches a small chest of silver coins he offered to Feddix to cover his expenses. I almost intervened, then decided some lessons must be learned the hard way. And I was hopeful Feddix, seeing that, might share in his bounty. The Jhereg, of course, took the entire chest with him.

“Hopefully, your desire will be achieved,” he wishes Selador.

My sweet one, I must desist now and see to my rest, as I am still recovering from my injuries. I will write again soon, and hope that someday soon, I might hope for a return message from you.



With all fondness, Asher

Asher's words transcribed by R. Perry